The next morning, Arthur was awake and dressed before Merlin arrived. When the servant entered Arthur's chambers, his arms filled with a stack of laundry, his eyes went wide when he saw Arthur sitting at his desk, ready for the day.
"Gods, am I that late?" Merlin asked with a quick look out of the window.
"You're fine," said Arthur, then gestured at the chair at the other side of the desk. "Why don't you have a seat, Merlin."
Merlin came to an abrupt halt half-way across the room. "Is something the matter?" he asked, apprehension plastered all over his face.
Arthur fixed him with a hard look. "You and I need to have a talk."
Merlin's eyes went wide. For a moment, he simply stared at Arthur. To the servant's credit, though, he didn't stall any further than that. Instead, he went to set down the laundry on Arthur's bed, then bravely approached the desk and sat down on the chair. Arthur watched him for a moment longer until Merlin began to fidget, plucking at his sleeve as he lowered his eyes to stare at the top of the desk.
If Arthur hadn't already known something was going on with Merlin, this would have been a dead give-away. Merlin wasn't nervous around Arthur. Under normal circumstances, he would have given a snappy remark by now, about how Arthur was wasting his time and should get a move on, or some such thing. But no cheeky comment was coming.
"Sire?" Merlin asked instead, his voice anxious. It was Gareth all over again.
Arthur decided that a direct approach was probably best. "Why don't you tell me about Sir Lucan?" he asked and watched Merlin go very, very still.
"Sir Lucan?" he said, voice just a bit faint. He still wasn't looking at Arthur. "What do you mean?"
"Don't bother pretending you've got no idea what I'm referring to," said Arthur firmly, aiming for his best I-am-the-Prince-and-you-will-obey-me-in-this tone.
Merlin seemed intimidated enough by it at first. He curled in on himself, ducking his head and hunching his shoulders. But when he started to speak, it was a denial, "Arthur, I really don't—"
Arthur cut him right off. "Stop! Look at me!"
Very slowly, Merlin raised his head. Arthur was taken aback. Merlin didn't just look nervous, he looked positively terrified. Nearly all colour had drained from his face and his lower lip was trembling. For the dozenth time in the past days, Arthur wondered what on Earth Merlin might be hiding, what terrible secret Lucan could be threatening him with that warranted this kind of reaction. Judging from Merlin's expression, a serious crime was looking more and more likely.
A spiral of cold dread wormed its way up Arthur's spine. He promptly crushed the feeling. This was not the time for panic.
"I won't have you lying to me, is that understood?" he said, aiming for authority and confidence in the face of the unknown. He would find out the truth in just a moment.
Merlin only nodded, wide-eyed and still impossibly pale.
"No more secrets," Arthur continued, in a voice that bore no argument. "Now talk!"
For a long moment, they both simply looked at each other, heavy silence filling the room.
"I don't know where to begin," Merlin finally admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. His eyes were suddenly glistening with unshed tears and Arthur, gods help him, couldn't help but immediately soften at that. A crying Merlin always got under his skin.
"Look, Merlin, don't be such an idiot," he said gruffly. "You can trust me. I only want to help you. You know that, right?"
Merlin gave another jerky nod, though his face seemed to tell a different tale, filled with fear as it was.
"I'm aware Lucan has been threatening you," Arthur continued, trying to offer Merlin an opening. "I want to know why."
This seemed to give Merlin pause. He worried at his lower lip for a second, bravely blinking away the sheen in his eyes. Then he asked, slightly less shaky than before, "He hasn't talked to you yet?"
"No," Arthur admitted. "I'd rather hear it from you, anyway."
Merlin let out a long, shaky exhale. "Right," he said, though perhaps more to himself than Arthur. He rubbed a trembling hand over his face. When he looked up again, he seemed more collected than before and some colour had returned to his cheeks.
"Lucan has been threatening me," he admitted.
"Threatening you how?" Arthur prodded. Gods, would he have to draw every little detail out of Merlin?
"Blackmail. Wants me to pay him in return for him keeping my secret."
Arthur's eyes narrowed. "And what secret might that be?"
Merlin opened his mouth, then closed it again.
"Merlin," Arthur growled.
"He thinks—" Merlin cut himself off. "He's got—" Again he stopped, then pressed his lips together.
"Out with it this instance!" Arthur ordered, now at the edge of his seat and running out of patience.
"He says he has proof that I'm a sorcerer," Merlin blurted, then snapped his mouth shut again.
Arthur stared at him, momentarily struck speechless. Had he heard right? That was the reason? That was why Arthur had been going to all these lengths to investigate? Lucan was threatening Merlin with exposing his secret of magic?
Arthur couldn't help himself: He sagged in his chair and let out a barking laugh, fuelled by a sudden wave of sweet, sweet relief.
"Lords above, Merlin, are you serious?" Arthur asked, not bothering to hide his incredulity. "You're letting yourself get blackmailed over such a ridiculous claim?" He wiped a hand over his face as another chuckle escaped him. "Gods, Merlin, I almost had myself convinced you murdered somebody."
Merlin didn't look like it was a laughing matter to him. "It's a dangerous claim, Arthur," he hissed. "A claim that, in Camelot, could get me beheaded!" He had started to sound just a bit indignant there and was glaring rather than staring.
It was an improvement where Arthur was concerned. Seeing Merlin so scared had been horrifying. At least, the servant had some of his old spirit back.
"If it were true, yes," replied Arthur. Gods, this was such a relief! Just a baseless accusation that Merlin was a sorcerer. Nothing to worry about. "Really, Merlin! I think we've all been thoroughly cured of the idea that you, of all people, could be a sorcerer. Don't you remember the witchfinder?"
"Yes, I remember Aredian," Merlin replied, voice tight. "I remember Gaius nearly dying on the pyre because of him."
That had Arthur sober a little. Of course, Merlin had reason to be scared. It was only that, after spending so much time figuring this out, Arthur had expected the worst! Merlin, a sorcerer? Laughable! Merlin wasn't corrupted like that!
"Did Lucan show you this proof of sorcery he supposedly holds?" asked Arthur.
Merlin ducked his head. "Does it really matter? Aredian had false proof that Gaius was a sorcerer, did he not? It was enough to condemn him."
Arthur had to admit Merlin had a point there. "So instead of coming to me to get this sorted, you went out of your way to work extra jobs and forage the forest to pay Lucan off, like a complete and utter buffoon."
Merlin's head snapped up again. "You know about that?" he exclaimed.
"Do you really think of me as so unobservant?" Arthur retorted and narrowed his eyes when he realised that, judging from Merlin's stunned expression, his servant really did think him just that oblivious. The thought made a rush of anger bubble up. "Yes, I've put two and two together. Selling the cloak I gifted you?" he added harshly. "Really? That's how you show your gratitude?"
At least, Merlin had the decency to blush at that. "Sorry," he said, eyes on his lap again.
"Oh, you better be," Arthur growled, but took a moment to reign himself in when Merlin cringed back in his chair. Arthur shouldn't let his anger get the better of him. He let out a long breath of air that turned into a sigh half-way through. Eventually, he continued, "I must say, I never thought I could find myself so disappointed in you."
Merlin hung his head.
"I saw you with my coffer that day," Arthur added and watched Merlin flinch. "It's what started my investigation into all of this, seeing you with your fingers half-way into my money."
Merlin was curled up tightly now, looking small and pathetic in the chair. He had started worrying away at his wrist in a way that left angry, red marks. "Arthur," he said, sounding about ready to choke on guilt. "I'm so sorry. You know I'd never—"
"I know," Arthur intercepted. "You didn't steal that day. You wouldn't be sitting here if you had. I hope you realise how much trust I have in you to let even an aborted attempt like that slide. Trying to steal from the Prince is a serious crime, do you understand that?"
Merlin looked up at Arthur with sorrowful eyes. "Yes, my lord."
"I could have had you flogged," Arthur continued. "Hells, I could have had your fingers cut right off your hand just for taking the key out of the desk!"
Merlin's voice was filled with nothing but genuine remorse. "I know. I'm so very sorry, sire. I shouldn't even have thought about it. There's no excuse."
"You're right, there isn't. And if you ever put me in a position like that again…" Arthur trailed off, unsure what threat he was trying to make here. It wasn't like he actually thought himself capable of punishing Merlin with anything worse than a couple of days in the dungeons or a round of the stocks.
Merlin seemed to understand all the same. He nodded mutely, eyes serious, then ducked his head again, appearing well and truly contrite.
Arthur let Merlin squirm for a bit before he continued, "What you should have done, is come to me. You know I would have never believed Lucan's laughable claims. I wish you'd shown the same trust in me as I've shown you."
"Sorry," Merlin repeated miserably.
"Yes, I know you are," Arthur sighed. Lords, this entire conversation was exhausting! Should have ordered some liquor to go with this, he thought, rubbing two fingers over the bridge of his nose.
He leaned back in his chair and tipped his head to look at the ceiling. He needed to take his eyes off his servant for a moment. A timid Merlin, Arthur found, was not something he wished to be confronted with very often in his life. He preferred his manservant cheeky and unimpressed in the face of royalty. Their entire relationship was based on Merlin recklessly challenging a prince. Damn Lucan for scaring him into submission!
"What now?" Merlin ventured in that moment.
Arthur glanced at him and was gratified to see Merlin had collected himself enough to sit straight again and meet his eyes. That was more like it!
"Now, Merlin," he said with a smile that was all teeth, "we're going to take Lucan down."
Merlin quietly listened to Arthur's information about Gareth and the plan he had come up with. Perhaps it was the lingering remorse over keeping secrets and nearly stealing from Arthur, but Merlin didn't offer a single comment. Instead, he quietly nodded along until finally agreeing to do his part.
"Are you sure you're up for this?" Arthur asked.
"Yes, sire, anything you ask," Merlin replied, without the slightest trace of sarcasm or hesitation.
"Good. I'll have everything arranged."
Likely sensing they had reached the end of this dreadful conversation, Merlin started to get up from the chair.
"Oh, and by the way, Merlin?" Arthur spoke up. Merlin halted. "I'm sure it goes without saying that you'll be on stable mucking duty for the next two months. I want Llamrei's box to be spotless. Hengroen's, too. No asking the stableboys for help, either. I'll let the stablemaster know."
Merlin sighed another, "Yes, sire," though they both knew he was getting off far, far too lightly. Arthur didn't have it in him to dole out some other punishment, though. Really, weeks of getting blackmailed probably was punishment enough.
When Arthur left for training after breakfast, he felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders, and that was despite wearing pounds of heavy armour. Merlin hadn't done anything truly disastrous or unforgiving. A simple claim of sorcery, Arthur could handle.
At the training fields, he paired up with Leon, updating him on recent developments between the sparring. All the while, Arthur kept watching Merlin at the side lines. When the last of the drills were coming to an end, Lucan approached Merlin to grab one of the prepared waterskins. Tall, bearded, and sharp-nosed – Arthur supposed the knight cut an imposing figure, especially to servants and squires.
Now that Arthur knew what to look for, it was impossible to mistake the gleam in Lucan's eyes for anything other than malice. The man was good, Arthur had to admit, keeping up a friendly demeanour in public, but the way he leaned into Merlin, the way he was smirking rather than smiling screamed I'm threatening you. Merlin, in turn, was ducking his head and hunching his shoulders, clearly intimidated even now, in spite of knowing he had Arthur's support.
How had Arthur missed this for a month? Perhaps Merlin hadn't been too far off thinking Arthur unobservant.
But then, what reason would Arthur have had to mistrust a fellow knight? The idea of superiority of those born of noble blood had been ingrained in Arthur from birth. Questioning a knight's honour based on a servant's strange behaviour? Unthinkable! And that was precisely what Lucan had been betting on all along – his rank and reputation.
Well, not for much longer, Arthur thought and made sure not to stare any more, lest he drew Lucan's attention.
That afternoon, Arthur approached his father.
Uther had just finished up yet another meeting and was still pouring over some documents in the council chambers when Arthur walked up to him. The King glanced up and Arthur stiffened a bit when his father immediately frowned in disapproval. Uther had become even harsher ever since Morgana's disappearance. He was almost unreasonably stern, with days of quiet despair sprinkled in between.
"Ah, Arthur," he said, his voice not boding well. "Good. I would have had you summoned momentarily."
"Sire?"
Uther straightened up, sending Arthur a damning look. "I've been hearing reports. What have you been doing prowling the lower town? Sneaking out of the citadel late at night, too, I'm told?"
Of course, word had finally made it to the King. Arthur had sought out Harlan again just the day before.
Luckily, Arthur was not unprepared for this particular rebuke. He laced his fingers behind his back, aiming for an air of confidence. "Actually, that is what I came to talk to you about, Father."
Arthur was pleased to see the surprise in Uther's face. It was nice to be one step ahead of his father for once. After a moment of silence, Uther made a beckoning motion at him and Arthur continued, "It has come to my attention that there have been some problems with an illegal gambling den in Camelot."
Uther raised an eyebrow. "Continue."
"I know a certain laissez-faire approach to these kinds of establishments can be useful to maintain morale amongst the people," Arthur continued. "Still, this particular location has started to become rather disruptive."
"Disruptive how?" Uther asked.
"Involving the nobility."
Uther frowned. "You're being rather vague."
"Because I have no concrete proof, only talk," Arthur admitted, then bowed his head. "With your permission, sire, I would like to gather evidence and see this gambling den closed if it proves to be as much of a problem as I believe it to be."
Uther tilted his head in thought. "What do you need?"
"Some funds from the royal treasury. A troop of guardsmen, to raid the den. Permission to incarcerate any noblemen I might find there until they can be brought before Your Majesty for judgment."
Uther studied him. Arthur tried not to fidget, meeting his father's steely gaze as evenly as he could. Finally, the King said, "I commend you for showing initiative on this, as the Crown Prince should. Very well. Take what you need, you have my blessing."
Arthur suppressed a triumphant grin, hiding the remaining smirk with another bow of the head. "Thank you, Father. I won't disappoint you."