(A/N)

as promised, here is chapter two! i had to write something with knights being cruel to merlin, it's just one of my favorite tropes. hope you enjoy!

The next time he heard it had been a few years later.

"Do you honestly believe this was necessary, sire?" Merlin's horse, Aurelia, trotted up beside Arthur's, struggling under the weight of her burden. They had spent the previous day hunting and were halfway back before stopping for the night, choosing to continue their journey back to Camelot in the early morning. Of course, their group had been relentless in their pursuit of animals given Arthur's presence, and Merlin's horse was suffering for it. Did horses of royals really need special status over the manservant's horse?

"Quit your complaining Merlin, that horse is only carrying skin and bones. Oh, and all the game." Arthur shrugged, fighting the appearance of an upturned lip. This commentary aligned with much of the prince's routine teasing of his servant, although he still tried to explain himself. A few new knights followed behind him, and, unlike Merlin, he was attempting to make a good impression. "Winter is approaching, we need food."

"But you're the prince!" Merlin huffed. He rolled his eyes and then focused on Arthur's stomach. Arthur followed his gaze warily. "You know as well as I do the only place this meat will go is into your kitchens, and I don't think that's going to help me when I have to put your belt on."

"Merlin!" Arthur's eyes bugged out. Merlin winced at the hint of seriousness in Arthur's tone. His master was used to these kinds of comments from his so-called insufferable manservant, but these new knights were the sons of Uther's close friends. Merlin couldn't let Uther discover how they talked to one another, or he might be sacked.

"Oi!" one of the knights, Sir Rodrick, called out. The group followed a bit more closely on their horses, but remained behind Arthur, probably out of respect to his royal status. Such suck-ups. "Show some respect to your prince, boy!"

Merlin, as idiotic as he could be, turned to Arthur, perhaps for some sort of defense. The two of them had grown closer lately. Yet Arthur merely glanced back at Sirs Rodrick, Lucian, and Marcus. The grimaces that graced each of their faces made Arthur's decision.

"Just be quiet for once, Merlin," Arthur hissed to his manservant, glancing back once again. He fixed his gaze ahead, slightly picking up his horse's pace. The rest of the group followed suit.

"Of course, sire," Merlin said softly, his shoulders dropping and head bending down. He nodded first to Arthur and then to Sir Rodrick, saying in a louder voice, "I apologize, my lords."

Merlin kept his head down for the rest of the journey. After all, Arthur hadn't seemed to notice the whispers between the knights after the incident. Best to keep the situation from him lest it actually turn into a disagreement which Merlin would inherently lose from his status.

By midday, they had reached the courtyard, and a flurry of stableboys awaited their dismounting. Well, awaited Arthur's and the knights' dismounting. Merlin was already off of his horse, hurrying to walk behind Arthur after rushing to tie Aurelia to a post. The knights forced him to trail behind, and they had made it all the way to the main entrance before Arthur turned around to address them.

"Sirs Lucian, Rodrick, Marcus, thank you for joining me for the past day." Arthur gave them a smile. He turned to Sir Rodrick and nodded at him respectfully. "That family of rabbits was a most admirable catch, Rodrick."

"Thank you, my lord," Sir Rodrick replied. He bowed slightly, and, when he came out of it, stood just a bit taller among the other knights. "But I believe we can all agree on your deer being the most skilled encounter yesterday."

"I certainly don't agree," Merlin muttered, glancing worriedly at Aurelia. The mare was getting old, and he didn't like to see the stress the weight put on the poor horse's legs. Arthur's deer weighed as much as nearly half the rest of the game. The weight of all of the game was rather ridiculous for one horse, and Merlin was beginning to think Arthur had placed the entire burden on Merlin's horse as some show of dominance for Uther's men to see.

This time it was Sir Lucian who turned and glared at Merlin. He apparently deemed Merlin unworthy of being berated by speaking directly to him, however, as he turned to Arthur and said distastefully, "Your servant is incorrect, my lord. The prince's personal manservant should be more than a complete fool. Maybe he requires some discipline."

Merlin's mouth dropped open when Arthur merely chuckled. "Yes, perhaps. Merlin, I believe you need to go back and deliver the game to the kitchens, then sharpen my sword, polish my armor, draw up my bath, and fetch some lunch."

"But sire, you must attend your father's counsel in three hours!" Merlin gaped, frowning at the business of his day. Arthur would most certainly be resting from the trip while he had to work harder than normal to finish on time. "I would be lucky to finish half the jobs on that list in time!"

"Now, Merlin!" Arthur said, already walking away. Merlin sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. He wanted nothing more than to rest, and now he had to do hours of work. Alright, he may have exaggerated when he implied that he could not finish the work in that time, but that didn't mean it wouldn't be grueling work on a deadline. He was just walking down the steps when a hand on his left shoulder startled him. His eyes flew open.

"He said now, boy!" Sir Lucian growled. His fingers gripped Merlin's shoulder even tighter, and Merlin saw the knight's eyes narrow. "Maybe you just need a push to go faster."

"Wha—" Merlin gasped as the wind was knocked out of him and he tumbled down the last ten steps. He lay there for a few moments trying to regain his breath. When he finally felt he could open his eyes again, the young knights had already turned away as if nothing had happened, or perhaps as if nothing that mattered had happened.

Merlin slowly stood and brushed off his jacket, turning to the courtyard. There was nothing he would like to do more than remark on the knights' behavior, but he didn't think Arthur would approve (now that he thought about it, however, since when had that stopped him?) and Arthur's work would not do itself. Merlin instead walked toward Aurelia, ignoring the men above him in rank. While the other horses had been led away by stableboys, Merlin was left to take care of Aurelia since he wasn't nobility. This was the one difference caused by class that he didn't mind - Aurelia had been his for the past few months and he enjoyed the time he got to spend with her.

As he lifted the rabbits and deer, he grunted at the sudden weight on his shoulder. He must have bruised it when Sir Lucian pushed him. He could barely carry the dead animals to the kitchen normally, let alone with hindered breathing. This amount of meat really should require two people to carry it at minimum. Knowing he was alone and had a mountain of work ahead of him, however, he struggled to straighten his back and set off toward the kitchens.

Making his way through the halls, he noticed a multitude of servants looking at him in a manner of annoyance. Merlin, the scrawny boy he was, usually darted and dashed on his travels throughout the corridors, quickly avoiding any potential mishaps. Today, however, the heavy load in his arms slowed him considerably more than even Arthur's armor. The majority of the servants were thus forced to wait for him to pass or linger behind as he blocked their path. The only person who looked at him with any other expression was Gwen, patiently waiting with her laundry basket for Merlin to pass. She shot him a sympathetic look, but could do no more save carry on without garnering some miffed glances herself.

After a few more minutes, he reached the kitchens and handed off the meat to a cooking girl near the back. His stomach growled; between the hunting and camp setup yesterday, he hadn't had time to eat, regardless of the fact that the new knights seemed to be pigs and ate all of the stew. Still, he knew better than to try and nick food from the Chef on days such as this one. The Chef was like a hawk on days of the king's counsel with the people, wary of any peasants who might sneak in and tamper with the meals. Gazing longingly at a plate of chicken, he made his way to the armory for Arthur's sword and armor.

Two hours later, Merlin sighed for what felt like the hundredth time, another scrape sounding from the sword in his hands. His arms ached after polishing the armor, a chore which hadn't even seemed necessary. He had just cleaned it a few days before and Arthur had barely worn it since. If you were to ask anyone in the kingdom, however, they would prattle on about how everything had to be kept in perfect condition, how that sparring match two days before had involved a tumble into the dirt, hadn't it? A speck of dirt is unacceptable for royalty. All would discuss what an honor it was to serve the king-to-be. Surely Sir Rodrick and the other knights would have liked to remind Merlin of that fact. Arthur too, for that matter.

Merlin paused mid-scrape as he came to the realization. Was he really that much of an idiot? He scoffed at the idea of him and the prince ever actually being friends. A friend wouldn't turn on him at even a hint of consequences from his father, right? It had been a couple of years, however, and Arthur could usually tolerate his remarks, if not only amusedly berate him for them. He had toed the line with Uther before. That hadn't been the case today.

Uther's men, he desperately claimed on behalf of his doubtful mind, they had been why Arthur had shut him out. But they had gone hunting with knights before, Arthur's and Uther's alike. There was nothing different this time. And that was when he realized it had always been like this, hadn't it? Merlin was the servant. Perhaps his quips slid in situations that would get anyone else flogged, but Arthur had this air with other people. Not of shame of Merlin himself, but more shame of the idea of a relationship of any kind with a servant. Especially around nobles, Arthur slipped easily into the master and servant routine. And today, when he had agreed with Sir Lucian's suggestions involving discipline, that had really topped everything. Had it really all been an unattainable mirage?

A loud bang came from the entrance as the door opened and Merlin jumped, so startled that he dropped the sword. Hurrying to pick it up, he bowed his head to whoever had entered. After he set the sword back on the bench, he didn't even get the chance to glance up before he felt himself being slammed against the wall behind him.

Merlin groaned in pain, his vision turning white for a moment as he moved his arm that had been jammed behind him into the stone. He lifted his hand to his head and ran it through his hair. He gasped slightly as it returned with a sticky substance between red fingers. A possible head injury and sore fingers did not bode well for him, especially since he hadn't even had time to address whoever was in front of him.

Lifting his head, he immediately straightened his posture as Sirs Rodrick, Marcus, and Lucian surrounded him. Bowing his head, he inched slowly into the corner, hoping that perhaps it was just a bout of pent-up anger and Sir Rodrick merely wished to have the bench. As Sir Rodrick began to open his mouth, however, Merlin began to think that the knight's pent-up anger was not something to hope for.

Merlin quickly scurried through the door. The sword was sharpened enough anyways. There were bound to be repercussions for running away from a knight the way he did, but the expression on Sir Rodrick's face and hate in Sir Lucian's eyes struck a nerve in him that was worth any amount of time in the stocks to avoid.

A sigh of relief escaped Merlin's lips as the last bucket was added to the bath. The water was now steaming hot, ready for Arthur in the next few minutes, and he would only have to get Arthur's lunch and help him dress in the hour that preceded the counsel session. As Gwen had gotten a young servant boy, David, to assist with the bath, a great load of his work had been lessened. Perhaps Merlin could even catch a bite to eat.

"Are you ready for your bath, my lord?" Merlin poked his head around the column that hid the prince from view. Arthur seemed tense, on edge. The servant knew he shouldn't press any buttons — Athur absolutely despised counsel sessions with his father, seeing as they only served as a demonstration of his deference to Uther.

"Just a moment," Arthur replied, slipping his shirt off. He waved Merlin away and turned to the younger servant. "David can assist me. Merlin, go fetch my lunch, will you? I'm starving. Hurry up, you've been slow today."

Merlin resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he darted past David, turning to head to the kitchens. Of course everything would be completed more quickly since he didn't have to give Arthur his bath before getting his food, but was the comment about Merlin being slow really necessary? Though he supposed he should learn not to expect much from Arthur, obviously he would always have his air of superiority.

As he descended the last few steps in the servant's stairway by the kitchens, Merlin heard familiar voices down the hall. As he leaned his head out, he saw that, sure enough, Sirs Rodrick, Lucian, and Marcus were walking towards him with angry expressions on their faces. They must still be on the hunt for Merlin. He pulled his head back quickly, holding his breath as they approached the doorway, and, without thinking, reached for a nearby vase for balance.

A step, a touch, a quiver.

It all came crashing down just as the knights began to pass. In hindsight, perhaps the vase was not Merlin's best choice for balance. But that wasn't important right now. What was important was the three menacing knights standing before him.

"Oh, look, it's the prince's manservant." Sir Rodrick let out a humorless laugh. The anger burned in his eyes. Merlin could tell that the knight had a very strong opinion on servants getting things done quickly and perfectly. "You know, we thought that maybe you ran from us earlier to go do your chores. But it looks like you're just here lazing about."

"I'm not lazing about!" Merlin exclaimed before suddenly lowering his head. He couldn't explain why, but Sir Marcus's reaction was especially frightening. It seemed to combine Sir Rodrick's anger and Sir Lucian's superiority complex into something deeper and much worse.

"You don't think you are, then?" Sir Lucian said. He tutted at the boy and scrunched up his nose in disgust, probably thinking something about how much more intelligent knights were than servants.

Merlin slowly shook his head. Even if they were stronger than him, he wouldn't accept their comments about his job or loyalty to Arthur. He knew that he always did the best he could to accomplish his duties as manservant, but he also tried to be an even better friend and voice of guidance because he took the prophecy seriously. His dedication could not be questioned.

"Then maybe we need to teach you a lesson." It was the first time Sir Marcus had spoken, and the first time Merlin heard his anger. He had an epiphany in that moment — not only was Marcus one of Uther's knights, but his sister had been saved from bandits by Arthur himself. Sir Marcus seemed to be the most dangerous of the three, one of the most stereotypically proper knights.

Merlin forgot all of his realizations after the first punch flew at his head. He ducked and dodged, but there were three of them surrounding him in a small corner.

Fists pummeled, first aimed at his head, then his chest and his stomach. Merlin gasped after a particularly nasty blow to his ribs. He had already been dizzy before, but now half of his vision was black. Suddenly he crumpled to the ground, too woozy to attempt to stand or flee.

The knights began to kick him, Sir Marcus hitting the hardest. Merlin knew that he spoke out of turn sometimes, but did he deserve this? He flinched as he entertained one single thought: Arthur would answer with a yes.

Merlin went limp. Arthur never cared, did he? No, he had shown that today, in the presence of Uther's knights and out of it. Maybe Merlin really was in the wrong, maybe he should be punished, maybe he deserved this...

Merlin froze for a moment and then shot up with his throbbing hand clutching his head, the other around his ribs. He knew he didn't deserve this beating, Arthur wouldn't allow it on any servant. He couldn't let the knights get into his head.

The knights, shocked by their prisoner's sudden resistance, let him escape. Merlin sprinted as fast as he could, nearly making it to the counsel chambers. He knew Arthur was due there soon, if he was fast enough the knights wouldn't be able to do anything.

It was right outside the door where Sir Marcus tripped Merlin and began to pull out his sword.

"This will teach you to stay where you're told," Sir Marcus growled, moving the blade down to Merlin's ankles. Some kind of sadistic glee flashed in his eyes. "Maybe without your feet you'll learn to not run."

Merlin sucked in a deep breath and yelled as Sir Marcus began to slice through his pants into the skin. At this point, Sirs Rodrick and Lucian had caught up, but stopped, simply watching their comrade. They looked nervous, but not for Merlin — perhaps they thought Sir Marcus was going too far, but they only worried about what would happen to themselves if anyone found out they were involved. They stood silently as Merlin began to scream in pain, sobbing.

Sir Marcus covered his mouth, but it was too late.

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS GOING ON HERE?" Arthur's voice rang out with anger and Merlin sighed in relief as Sir Marcus retracted his sword. The prince had arrived, leading a small bunch of peasants to the counsel chambers for the sessions. "Get off of that man, Sir Marcus, what are you doing to — Merlin!"

Arthur rushed forward and disarmed Sir Marcus before pushing him away, leaning over his servant. His expression instantly filled with worry which Merlin could barely see as his eyes glazed over in shock. He found it difficult to keep his eyes open.

"Merlin, are you alright?" Arthur's tone held concern as he brushed his fingers lightly on Merlin's injured legs. Merlin hissed at the contact, forcing Arthur to withdraw his hands lest he cause him any more pain. "What happened?"

"We were simply teaching him some discipline for you, my lord." Sir Marcus smirked, back on his feet next to Sirs Rodrick and Lucian. The knight stood tall with pride while his peers swayed unsurely beside him. "Of course, he tried to run, so I was ensuring that he wouldn't be able to do that again."

"You were teaching him discipline for me, were you?" Arthur slowly stood up and tilted his head. He crossed his arms and began walking slowly toward Sir Marcus. "Did you think that I, the crowned prince, could not handle the discipline of my own manservant?"

"Why, no, I just..." Sir Marcus trailed, his eyes wide. He stumbled back for a moment, but Arthur reached out and grabbed his arms, holding him in place. Merlin grinned. He knew Arthur had only been acting and in a bad mood. Too bad Sir Marcus couldn't tell the difference.

"Quite frankly, I'm insulted that you think I would ever want any servant treated in this manner," Arthur continued, his voice hard. He squeezed Sir Marcus's arms even tighter and Merlin could have sworn he heard the knight give a small squeak of pain. "Is this what represents the house of Pendragon? Would you like to come with me to my father? He simply loves his image, as I'm sure you know. Of course, since you are most certainly knights based on your honor, he could see what you mean. Although I would think that your fathers would disapprove of their legitimately honorable legacies being tarnished. Guards, one of you, fetch Gaius. The others, take these men to my father. Counsel is postponed for today."

The guards rushed to complete their respective tasks, and Arthur soon disappeared into the counsel chambers. Merlin heard a fair bit of yelling. Uther was most likely more lenient with this type of behavior than Arthur let on in his speech, but he knew that the king wouldn't want people thinking he had rewarded someone insubordinate the job of the prince's personal manservant, or that this was how they were treated. It wouldn't be the most severe punishment, but Merlin knew he could trust Arthur to take care of it.

As Gauis and the guard lifted Merlin onto a makeshift stretcher, carrying him away, one of the peasants said it.

(A/N)

thanks for reading! i have the rest of this fic finished, so i'll be putting chapters out every day or every other day. let me know what you think of it so far!