Then

Em slumped in the stocks, his back aching from being hunched over the past two hours. Bandit paced around the stocks angrily, baring his teeth at anyone who even looked at Em wrong. Em knew he should call off his dog, but it was nice to not get pelted with rotten fruit by bored peasant children. Sionnach actually was playing with several small children about a hundred yards away, yapping happily. Em was glad people in Camelot enjoyed playing with puppies more than they enjoyed publically humiliating someone. He had almost dozed off in the mid-afternoon heat when he heard a voice say, "What you did was awfully brave, you know."

Em started. He turned his head and saw Gwen standing to his right. Bandit, who recognized her, let her pass. "What did I do?" he said with a slight grin.

"You stood up to Sir Magnus! He's a bully. Prince Arthur is one, too, but Magnus is worse," Gwen said with disgust. "It's the talk of the servants' hall. We are all looking forward to hearing your side of the story after the banquet. Gaius said you are serving tonight. I'll be there to serve Lady Morgana and the other members of the royal family."

"Just the lesser nobles. I'm too inexperienced for them to let me near the big dogs," Em chuckled. "So all the servants are talking about me?"

"Not in a bad way!" Gwen assured him. "I guess I—um, I mean we—find you admirable. Um, as in you I meant your actions. Not to say that you aren't admirable of course, it takes an admirable person to perform admirable actions—"

"I think I understand," Em said with good humor.

"So how much longer are you in here for?"

Em looked up and squinted. "About another hour, I think. It was around eleven when they put me in here, and the guard said it was a three hour sentence, and now it's one, so…"

"How can you tell the time?"

"I'm looking at the position of the sun in the sky. My brother taught me to do that when I was small," Em explained.

"Would you mind showing me one time? That seems really useful," Gwen said.

"Of course." Em watched in amusement as a teenage boy with a rotten tomato in hand crept forward. Bandit bared his teeth, and the kid dropped the tomato. He practically fled. "You better get going. Don't want to associate yourself with the town ruffian, now."

Gwen grinned. "I suppose not. I'll see you tonight, Merlin."

"See you tonight, Gwen!" Em called after her.

After a guard released him from the stocks, Em went back to Gaius's chambers. Gaius quizzed him on his knowledge of the healing arts and was quite impressed. After Em had rested for a bit, Gaius set him off to make several deliveries. When he got back, he had to mop the floor and prepare some herbs for drying. Soon, it came time to prepare for the banquet. Em polished his boots, changed in a clean shirt, dusted off his trousers, and washed his face. He donned a clean neckerchief. He ate a quick supper Gaius prepared and rushed off to the kitchens. The cook lectured him for about ten minutes, telling him not to spill any wine on the nobles and to be respectful. His job was to pour wine for a table of barons and ladies with modest land holdings in outlying parts of the kingdom. They weren't terribly important, but still had enough influence that Em had to be careful around them.

Finally, the time for the banquet came. Em was given a jug of wine and tucked away in a doorway with Morris, who was pouring wine for another table of nobles. They were near the raised dais where the royal family sat. The next few hours were tedious for Em; he constantly had to be alert, as he needed to be at the nobles' beck and call. The food the other servers smelled delicious. He had never seen so much food in his life—quail, rich soups, delicate pastries, venison, and various other delicacies. His rebellious stomach rumbled in envy. Em tried not to dwell on the thin vegetable soup that had been his own supper.

Finally, King Uther announced, "It is time for our guest of honor to sing. I welcome Lady Helen, the greatest performer in all the land."

The woman from earlier—the one with the strange doll in her chambers—stepped onto the raised dais. With her arms outstretched, she began to sing. The melody was haunting, and the words were of a language Em did not recognize. Em frowned as he noticed the guests begin to grown drowsy. Gaius, who sat with other higher-ranking palace staff, slumped over into his plate. Cobwebs as white as his hair began to creep over him. People began dropping all around the room. At first, Em thought they were all dead, until Morris collapsed. Em saw the other servant's chest slowly rising and falling. They were only sleeping.

Lady Helen kept singing. Em sent out his magic; clearly, a spell was causing this. His magic was powerful enough to shield him from it, thank Nature. His magic sensed a dark, ancient power and recoiled immediately. Em watched in horror as Lady Helen drew a dagger from her sleeve and drew her arm back, preparing to throw it. She was aiming it towards Prince Arthur…

You will share my tears… A son for a son…

Em did not have time to utter a spell he knew. He simply reacted.

He shaped his magic into a double-edged sword. Frantically, he looked around the room and his eyes landed on the chandelier Lady Helen stood under. He thrust his sword out and sliced through the rope securing the chandelier to the ceiling. With a sickening thud, it landed squarely on Helen. She shrieked, a haunting sound that made Em flinch.

Everyone began to stir immediately. Morris sat up, tearing the cobwebs that had covered him. Prince Arthur, King Uther, and Lady Morgana rose shakily. Many gasped in horror when they saw the chandelier and the dying woman trapped under it. For Helen was still moving, her cries growing weaker and weaker—

Yet when Em looked, he did not see Helen anymore. He now saw an old woman—the mother of the executed sorcerer. She still clutched the dagger in her hands. Before she took her last breath, she drew her trembling hand back…

Em sprinted to the high dais. Prince Arthur stood at the left side of the table, on the outside. Em tackled him to the ground seconds before the dagger whizzed over their heads and embedded itself into a wall tapestry. Em rolled away from the prince, his chest heaving with exhaustion and anxiety. He screwed his eyes shut; using his raw power to defeat the sorceress had drained him.

He felt a hand cup his face. "Are you alright?" Blue eyes bore into his. The prince stood over him.

"I'm fine," Em managed. He almost gasped in horror when the king joined his son and offered Em a hand up. Em accepted, and Uther pulled him to his feet. "Thank you, milord."

"It is I who should be thanking you. You saved my boy's life," Uther said. "Name any reward, and it shall be granted. You have performed a selfless act this night."

Em sputtered, protesting the need for an award. He did not need to attract the king's attention in such a way. He wanted to turn tail and flee.

"No need to be so modest," Uther said. "You shall be rewarded a position in the royal household as the personal manservant to the prince."

Em grabbed the back of one of the chairs at the royals' table for support while Arthur cried, "Father, you can't—"

"What is your name, my boy?" Uther asked.

"Merlin," Em stuttered.

"Merlin, serve my son dutifully and faithfully. Arthur, be a fair and just master to your servant." With that, Uther turned away to go check on Lady Morgana and to examine the sorceress's body.

Em and Arthur just stared at each other in complete horror.

Em fidgeted. "Sire, may I?"

Arthur waved a hand. "Speak," he mumbled around his mouthful of bread and cheese. Em tried not to wrinkle his nose at the haughty prince's manners. This was going to be the worst job ever. He had gotten up before dawn to get the prince's breakfast. He wanted to make a good impression on his first day. He now stood before the prince as Arthur sat at his table, eating.

"There's a few things you should know about me before you hire me."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "I hardly need to know your backstory, Merlin. We aren't going to be friends. And my father already hired you. There's not much I can do to change that."

"I know, sire," Em tried to say as evenly as possible. He lowered his eyes, trying to act ashamed. Nature, he was a bad actor and an even worse liar. But this was necessary. Iseldir had insisted he craft a believable backstory if he was to be employed to the prince. "My mother had me out of wedlock. Back home, it wasn't a big deal, it happens all the time in the villages, but Gaius told me such things matter in Camelot. I figured, as my master, you should probably know that." He finally looked up. Be convincing, he heard a voice that sounded annoyingly like Ruadan say.

Arthur raised his eyebrows. "So you're a bastard, then, Merlin?"

"Yes, sire."

"It matters little to me, you're only a servant. If you were a noble, now that would be a completely different story."

Em wanted to ask why, but kept his mouth shut. He did say, "My hand will not affect my duties, either, sire."

"What about it?"

Em held up his right hand, with its missing pinky. "How did that even happen? Surely not in a battle." Arthur chuckled a bit, and Em's blood practically boiled.

"It was an accident. Um, I cut it chopping wood, my lord."

"Chopping wood?" Arthur repeated. "Too bad."

Em nodded, reddening slightly.

Arthur waved a hand. "Well, that's enough chatter. I had the steward draw up a list of your daily duties, along with weekly tasks you will be expected to complete. It's on the desk over there. Are you literate?"

Em had to stop himself from scowling. "Yes, sire," Em walked over to the desk and picked up the list. It was a list of chores he had expected to do as a prince's manservant—polishing armor, keeping the chambers tidy, laundry, et cetera. Some of the tasks seemed unpleasant, like mucking out the stalls of the prince's personal mounts. One job in particular actually sounded exciting…

"You have dogs, sire?" Walking the prince's dogs morning and night, the list read. Em figured Sionnach and Bandit would enjoy the company on their strolls around the city. Then he realized the prince's dogs would not be permitted to leave the castle grounds. They were probably too valuable.

"A couple of hounds. The best huntsman in the realm bred them," Arthur said after a moment. "So you really can read. Many peasants cannot."

Not rising to the bait, Em simply nodded. He folded the list and slipped it into his jacket pocket to memorize later. When the prince returned to his food, Em opened the narrow doorway that he assumed was a closet to look for cleaning supplies. To his surprise, he found a little room with a narrow cot and a small wardrobe. He did not realize the prince had a room for a manservant off his chambers. Thank Nature Gaius had offered him free lodging. Em found what he was looking for; the cleaning supplies were strewn across the cot, along with several boxes. The room was probably only used for storage now.

Em grabbed a feather duster, a broom, and a dustpan. He dusted all the surfaces that needed it—the desk, bedframe, wardrobe. After that, he swept the entire room. He felt Arthur's eyes on him, but refused to acknowledge the prince's staring. By Nature, he would not lose this job. He was the most powerful sorcerer in the realm—he could deal with this pompous ass. He was here to free his people. He would not let Prince Arthur get the chance to sack him.

As he dumped the contents of the dustpan into the ash bucket, Em heard Arthur put his fork down and stand up. Em glanced over his shoulder to see the prince staring expectantly at him. "Yes, sire?"

"I have weapons training from ten o' clock to noon every day."

"Very well, sire, I'll use the time to get your chambers in order, and get acquainted with where things go—"

"You're to accompany me."

Em paused, and just nodded.

"Now, you put on the g—"

"The gorgets," Em finished, before he realized he had just interrupted the prince. Instead of looking angry, Arthur almost seemed impressed.

"How'd you know that?"

"I know how to dress someone in armor, and myself," Em said.

"You do?"

"Yes, sire." Em had to stop himself from sighing.

"Well, finish strapping it on, we have a long training session today to prepare for the tournament."

"We? What tournament?"

"Knights from all over the kingdom are traveling to Camelot to determine the best swordsman in the land0. I need a sparring partner. All the knights I usually train with will be fighting in the tournament, so they are all training on their own. That leaves me with you."

"What about one of the palace guards?" Em finished putting Arthur's armor on. He grabbed the prince's sword and helm. He offered it to the prince, who grabbed it without so much as a word of thanks.

"They have their own duties. Don't be such a girl, Merlin." The prince clapped him on the back and chortled when Em grimaced.

Em grabbed a dulled practice sword off the rack, testing its weight. It was a bit too heavy for him. He moved on to the next one, and the next, and the next—

"Hurry up, Merlin!" the prince yelled.

Em rolled his eyes and grabbed the lightest of the four swords he had picked up. It still felt too heavy to him, though. Was it just him, or did all the swordsmen in Camelot have ridiculously strong arms? He jogged to the prince's side. Em wore light padded armor, a helm, and thick leather gauntlets. He backed a few paces away from the prince and levelled his sword. His lips curled into a small smile when he remembered the countless sparring sessions with Alvarr—

"You're just mad someone three years younger than you managed to disarm you, Al!"

"I am not," the older boy growled. He snatched up his sword and slashed it through the air. "Shall we go again, Em?"

Em shrugged, smirking. "I mean, if you in that big of a hurry to lose again…"

Alvarr charged him, roaring, and Em assumed a defensive position—

He pushed the memory away. This was no casual practice with one of his brothers or sisters, which always entailed plenty of laughter and good fun. He was training with a man who would kill Em without a second thought if he knew Em's true identity.

With that sobering thought, Em went several rounds with the prince. He won two, and the prince won three. He even offered tips to Em a couple times. Em dared not voice his own tips; many of his moves were ones Ruadan had based on an ancient Dragonlord fighting style, anyway. Arthur would not be familiar with them.

After Arthur knocked Em to the ground after a particularly intense round, he pulled the boy to his feet.

"Explain." The prince's blue eyes bore into his.

Em looked at his new master suspiciously. He was confused by Arthur's behavior. For someone who had been pretty awful to him since he arrived in Camelot, the prince now treated Em with an almost begrudged respect. Sure, he made a few jibes here and there, but that was it. Why was the prince acting completely different when it was just them on the training ground? "Explain what?" Em asked.

"How you got to be so good at sword fighting. I don't understand."

Em took a deep breath. "I'm from Essetir, y'know, and old Cenred's always getting into a bunch of wars—"

"King Cenred."

"Yeah, that's right, sire, he's the King of Essetir, and anyway—"

"Of course I know who the King of Essetir is! He's an ally and friend of Camelot."

Em blanched. "Why? He's an awful bloke, honestly—"

"MERLIN!"

"Oh yeah, so y'see, my brothers' da died in one of the King's wars. His sword was always lying around, and one day I picked it up and starting swinging it around. A couple of the men knew how to fight, and they gave me lessons in exchange for work."

"Your brothers have a different father than you?"

"I was born out of wedlock, sire, remember? Their da was around when William, my oldest brother, was born. He got Ma pregnant before he went to war and died. Then Gilanders—we call him Gilli—was born. Some trader came through and left, and I was born."

"Either way, you are uncommonly good for a peasant. Of course, you would be unremarkable if you were a nobleman," Arthur said. "And your style looks ridiculous, even if it is effective. Now go get your sword."

Em inclined his head a bit and went to go grab the sword.

"Oh, and Merlin?"

"Sire?"

"If you tell anyone I said you were a half-decent fighter, I will feed you to the dogs."

"Yes, sire!"

Muscles aching after sparring with Arthur and doing chores all day, Em looked forward to a nap. Instead, he was greeted by an insane Sionnach and an annoyed Bandit and Gaius. "Take that dog out for at least an hour, and don't come back until she is exhausted," his uncle snapped from his worktable as he crushed herbs with a mortar and pestle. Em immediately whistled to his dogs and left.

They strode down the castle hallways, Sionnach trailing behind him and Bandit walking by his side. Em kept looking over his shoulder at his little scrappy pup. How could she be as good as gold when he was around, but turn into a little terror as soon as he was gone?

His eyes widened when he remembered he still needed to exercise the prince's dogs. He hoped they were nice hounds.

After asking a serving girl for directions, Em made it to the royal kennels. He told Sionnach and Bandit to heel. He heard dogs barking and saw sleek, sharp hounds prancing around in fenced-in yards connected to a building similar to a horse stable. He asked a barefooted servant boy carrying a bucket where the head hounds-man was.

"Mr. Beckett's inside," the boy said. "What d'ya wan' wi' him?"

"Oh, y'know, I gotta talk to him about walking the Prince's dogs."

The boy's eyes widened. "You was the one who brawled wi' His Highness in the Lower Town Marketplace! I was there, runnin' an errand for Mr. Beckett."

Em grinned a bit. He held out his hand. "I'm Merlin," he said. "Who're you?"

The boy shook his hand. "Holt."

"Good meeting you, Holt."

Holt reached down to pet Bandit. "This is one good-lookin' shepherd. That pup'll be a pretty girl, too. They yours?"

"Yeah. The shepherd's Bandit, and the puppy's Sionnach." Sionnach shoved her nose into Holt's other hand, demanding to be pet. Holt obliged with a laugh.

He looked up at Em. "Mr. Beckett, sometimes he don't like mutt dogs bein' brung into his kennels. 'Fraid they'll get the royal bitches knocked up."

"I'll leave Bandit out here, then," Em sighed. He ordered the shepherd to stay, and Sionnach to heel. He strode into the dog stable, or whatever they called it. On the inside, on either wall, were kennels that connected to the outside yards. The dogs all immediately started barking.

A man was training a hound pup at the other end of the kennel. He was well-dressed and in his mid-twenties. He yelled, "Quiet!" The dogs immediately shut up. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Em. "Who're you, boy?"

"I'm Merlin, Prince Arthur's servant," Em called.

Beckett—that's who Em assumed he was—strode down to shake his hand. Sefa would find his thick brown hair and dancing brown eyes handsome. Em shook it. "I am Beckett, the head hounds-man. You must be here to walk the prince's hounds. I have to tell you, they're a difficult pair."

Em laughed, and gestured to Sionnach. "If I can get this little lassie to heel, I can get them to mind me," he said. "What're their names?"

"The prince never named them. My assistant calls them Pike and Trout. His Highness would probably have him thrown in the stocks for it—imagine naming royal hounds after fish!" Beckett laughed.

"Holt, right? I just met him a moment ago."

"Yeah, that's him. A lad from the Lower Town. He's great with the dogs." Beckett walked off. "I'll go get the hounds."

He returned with two gorgeous brown-and-white male dogs. They had actual leashes and collars. They were pure muscle. Beckett said the larger one was Pike, and the smaller one Trout. Sionnach sniffed the dogs curiously, wagging her tail. They growled a bit at her, but once they were acquainted they calmed down.

"They'll get along famously," Em said. He grabbed the leashes and whistled to them. They followed obediently.

The hounds went nuts when they saw Holt outside. Their tails wagged furiously and they kept licking his hands. Holt laughed a bit. "They're nice dogs."

After introducing the hounds to Bandit, Em got the walk started. He really wanted to go home and eat supper. He figured a forty-minute walk would suffice. He took his small pack to the courtyard behind the palace, where he heard servants and other palace staff congregated after work to hang out. He wanted to scout it to see if it was worth going there tomorrow evening. After spending the last week few days with just Gaius and the prince, he was ready to finally try and make friends in Camelot.

Sure enough, a group of lads were kicked a leather ball. They had two barrels placed on either end of the courtyard to serve as goals. Em wished he could join in; he missed playing games with his siblings and friends back in Sábháilte. Bandit whined a bit, wanting to chase the ball. He quieted down when Em shot him a look.

The men smoked pipes and played cards. Women did needlework, sitting on the stairs, gossiping.

Em just planned on taking a quick stroll through the courtyard. He did not count on Gwen waving to him from across the courtyard. She stood with Morris. He took his small pack over to them. "Greetings!" he called. "Have you two finished your duties for the day?"

Gwen's eyes twinkled. "Yes, we have. Seems like the prince is working you hard." She nodded towards the dogs.

"I don't envy you the job," Morris said wryly.

"It's alright, I guess. He's not too bad," Em said in a low voice, glancing around to make sure the other servants weren't in earshot. "He's all amped up about some tournament."

"A Pendragon is always expected to win the tournament. Part of its purpose is to prove to the people that Arthur is worthy of succeeding his father one day. It would send a really bad message if he were to lose," Gwen explained.

"I hope, for your sake, that he wins. It would be unbearable to work for him if he lost, he'd become so ill-tempered," Morris said.

"It sounds as if you know him fairly well," Em observed.

Morris shrugged. "I've served in the royal household since I was a small boy. I basically grew up with Arthur. Not that we're friends, of course. I just know his personality pretty well."

"I heard there may be a knight who can measure up to Arthur's skill. He is called Knight Valiant, I believe. He arrived here this afternoon," Gwen said. "He hails from Bard's kingdom."

"Let's pray Arthur can beat him, so Merlin's life can be a bit easier," Morris said with a laugh.

Valiant sat in the guest chambers he had been offered, drinking a tankard of strong mead. He watched his shield, transfixed by the image of the entwining snakes. He muttered a few words in the language of magic, and three adders slithered out of it, hissing and writhing.

"You'll do very nicely, very nicely indeed," Valiant muttered to himself.

He would beat the Pendragon bastard. How could a weakling-a powerless prince-beat a powerful sorcerer, after all?

Gaius stared at the body of the sorceress. Uther had ordered him to perform an autopsy on her. He had removed her clothes, and now he saw a strange symbol tattooed onto the corpse's right hip. He traced it. He had never seen the like of it. A series of intricate triskels formed the shape of a wolf. A Saxon phrase read, "The Lupus Order." He just stared and stared at it. Finally, at a loss, he whispered, "What the hell?"

A/N: I'M BACK! I didn't include a "Now" section because a lot of stuff happened in this chapter and I need to set up some more backstory before I can continue with the "Now" part of the storyline. Sorry it took me so long to post a new chapter, I lost about 25k words for this story when my laptop updated and it was really discouraging. I'm back though! A huge thanks to every followed, reviewed, and favored this story. It means the world to me that you read my trashy fic.

Some people said that this story is moving too slowly for their tastes, while others seem to enjoy the pace I have set. I spent a long time world-building and establishing the backstory for Merlin in this AU because the Druids will play a HUGE role at the end of the story. However, I also am trying to make this fic more exciting for people who are starting to find it tedious; I tried to include some exciting action in this chapter and A LOT is going to happen in future update. Chapter 18 is going to be a freaking rollercoaster! I am always open to criticism, as I want to become a better author and to make my readers happy. Any further suggestions for this story are always welcome.