"How am I going to prove myself if my opponents aren't trying their hardest?"

"I'm sure it's not happening all the time," Merlin said, barely ducking a blow to his head. He swiped at Arthur, but the prince easily diverted it.

"So it's happening some of the time?"

"No, I'm certain it isn't."

"Now you're doing it!" he growled, hitting Merlin in the leg hard enough to send him to the ground. "You're telling me exactly what you think I want to hear!"

"Yes. Er… no," Merlin groaned. "Uh… What was the question?"

"I know you're doing that on purpose," the prince growled, kicking at his side.

Merlin rolled away from the hit with a smile. "I thought you liked bootlickers. Why the sudden change?"

Arthur stabbed the training sword into the ground and pulled off his helmet. He stared down at it and sighed, "All my life I've been treated as if I'm special. I just want to be treated just like everyone else."

"Really?" Merlin asked, sounding unconvinced as he pushed himself into a sitting position.

"You have no idea how lucky you are."

"Well, anytime you want to swap places, just let me know."

"That's not a totally stupid idea."

"You're Prince Arthur. You can't change who you are."

"Yes I can," Arthur said, grabbing Merlin's arm to pull him to his feet.

The warlock narrowed his eyes. "What are you plotting?"

"I have an idea."

"Oh no. Whatever it is, don't do it."

Arthur shot him a glare and put his helmet back on. "You can't tell me what to do.

"I thought you wanted me to talk back to you?"

In a move too fast for Merlin to block without magic, Arthur grabbed his sword and smacked his helmet hard enough that Merlin felt his brain shake.

"You're really sending mixed signals," he groaned, doubling over.

"Prepare yourself!"

"Of course, Sire. Whatever you say, Sire!"

Merlin was knocked to the ground again.

"Thank you for this, Guinevere," Arthur said as he looked around her home.

He hadn't expected it to be so… small.

"Of course, My Lord."

"Please, just Arthur."

She smiled and nodded. "I'll prepare some dinner for us."

When she was distracted, he whispered to Merlin, "I expected a bit more."

"We can't all be prince's," he whispered back. "Or live in the castle. Gwen's is still nicer than most."

"Sure, but…"

"You really can't go without your big bed and your soft pillows?" Merlin teased.

Arthur glared. "This will be fine." Louder, he said, "How are the preparations coming along? Have you found someone to play our knight in the tournament?"

"I do all the work, someone else gets all the praise."

"I know the feeling," Merlin muttered.

"When I win this tournament, I'll reveal my true identity, get the credit I deserve."

"Of course you will," Merlin hummed and Arthur looked at him.

"Something to say?"

"Of course not, Sire."

Arthur glared and shoved him. "Well don't just stand there. Help me off with my armor. And remember to polish it before tomorrow. The horse needs grooming. And don't forget to repair the broken lances."

"Why are you doing this?" Guinevere asked, coming to the table.

"I fear that people respect me just because of my title."

"I don't believe that's true of everyone."

"Would you tell me if it were?"

"No."

He looked up at her to see her smiling.

She sat in front of him, shaking her head. "I cannot speak for everyone, but I know I do not, and I think everyone knows Merlin doesn't."

"Merlin doesn't respect me at all. He just acts like it when he's trying to get under my skin."

"He respects you, just as you respect him. You both just have your own ways of showing it."

He rolled his eyes, but the humor faded quickly. He looked down at his cup and said, "That may be true for you two, but everyone else? When I'm competing as William, my title doesn't matter, nobody gives me any special treatment. So when I win this tournament - If I win this tournament - it will be because I deserve it and not because I am Prince Arthur."

He looked up to see her giving him a sad smile.

He stood up. "I think I'll take a bath."

"That might be difficult seeing as I don't have a bathtub."

"Really? Er… perhaps you could prepare me a bowl of hot water. I take it you have a bowl."

"I think I can manage a bowl," she said and he looked up at her angry tone to see her marching over to the door. "I'll just walk all the way down to the well and fetch some water then, shall I?"

"I -"

She stormed out of the house.

"Do you think I sit around doing nothing?! I haven't had a chance to sit around and do nothing since the day I arrived in Camelot! I'm too busy running around after Arthur! Do this, Merlin! Do that, Merlin! And when I'm not running around after Arthur, I'm doing chores for you! And if I'm not doing that, I'm reading book after book about tinctures and extracts and bruises and infections! Do you know how many times I've sav-been in danger by following Arthur around? I've lost count! Do I get any thanks? No. I have fought griffins, witches, uh… bandits! I have been punched, poisoned, pelted with fruit, and all the while I have to clean his socks and study medicine and slog through bogs for thorny plants and things I can't even talk about! Sometimes I feel like I'm being pulled in so many directions, I don't know which way to turn!"

Merlin was watering Passelande when a man approached. The horse eyed him, but thankfully was calmer around strangers than his brother or even Llamrei and only pulled away when the man reached out as opposed to kicking him or biting at the approaching fingers.

"He's a fine horse," the man said, not seeming to notice the horse's nerves, or the way Merlin was responding to his nerves.

Passelande was pretty intuitive when it came to danger.

"I see your master has advanced to the final. He's extremely skilled with a lance."

"He's doing well. Just one more match to go," he answered, stroking the gelding's neck.

"Tell me, what is he like to work for?"

Merlin felt a weight on his shoulder and a hiss in his ear and sighed. "Between you and me? He can be a bit of a prat," he joked, setting his hand over Cavall's head before the cat could do something stupid.

He bit him.

"Are you alright?"

"Fine. He's the prince's cat so he seems to think he's a prince as well." Merlin shook out his hand and grabbed the cat off him with the other. "Go beg for food somewhere else. I know the kitchen maids all dote on you."

"You still work for Prince Arthur then?" the man asked, eyeing the cat as it eyed him right back.

"No. Yes, yes. Not right now. Arthur's away. I'm just… helping out."

"Well, I, erm, I wish your master luck in the final."

"Thanks."

He watched the man leave then turned back to the horse. "So neither of you liked him then?"

Cavall hissed and Passelande snorted.

"Great, as if I don't have enough to worry about."

"About how rude and arrogant you can be!" Guinevere exploded. "This is my home and you are my guest in it! I know you are used to more luxurious quarters, but that is not an excuse to be so rude! You claim titles don't matter to you, but you behave like a prince and expect me to wait on you like a servant! Saying it means nothing if your actions betray you! Would it kill you to say please and thank you once in a while?"

She stared into Arthur's eyes before looking away.

"My Lord," she tacked on.

"Is there anything else you'd like to add?" he asked after a moment.

"No, I think that's it," she said, not looking at him but for the slightest second.

He waited until she looked back up at him before saying, "You're right. You have invited me into your home and I have behaved appallingly."

"I didn't mean to make you feel bad."

"Oh, really?"

"Well, perhaps a little," she chuckled and he smiled.

"There's no excuse. I'll make it up to you. Tonight, I will make dinner for you."

"You're going to cook me dinner?" she asked as he pushed her out of the house.

"I most certainly am. Now go for a walk or do whatever it is that girls do at this time of the evening."

"A walk would be nice."

"Your dinner will be ready when you return."

He shut the door then turned to look at her kitchen. He clapped his hands together and approached the raw chicken, then frowned down at it. The door opened and he turned to see her peeking back in.

"Guinevere -"

"You have no idea how to cook, do you?"

"I…" He glanced down at the meat, then back up at her. "I can kill a chicken from a thousand paces, just don't ask me to cook it. But -"

She came in and hung up her scarf. "How about we make dinner together? I can show you how."

"That would be wonderful," he said coming closer to her.

That was, of course, when Merlin barged in to ruin the moment.

"Arthur -"

The prince marched over and grabbed him by the scarf. He dragged him out of the house saying, "Leave, Merlin."

"But don't you want me to -"

"No, you have the night off. Leave."

Merlin frowned and glanced between Arthur and the door. His eyes widened. "Wait, are you and -"

Arthur slammed the door in his face and turned to Guinevere.

Merlin looked up when Gaius came in. He gestured to the dinner he'd prepared, including some pork he'd picked up from the market to apologize. "Dinner's ready… What I said this morning -"

His uncle cut him off with a raised hand. "It is I who should be apologizing to you. I have failed to appreciate just how heavy your burden must be, acting as both servant and apprentice."

"I shouldn't have lost my temper with you."

"It's no wonder you're upset. There's so much resting on your young shoulders. Now that Arthur's away, you must take time to enjoy yourself."

"What about the leech tank?"

"Don't even think about the leech tank."

"Really?" Merlin asked, relieved.

"All this talk of leeches will put us off our dinner."

"I think I better stop talking," Gwen giggled, getting up.

"I'll do that," Arthur said, taking the plate from her and bringing his own.

"Thank you, for dinner," she said, turning as he went.

"I didn't do much. Honestly, I likely would have given us food poisoning if you hadn't been watching over me."

"I don't know about that. It certainly would have tasted awful though, with how much spice you were trying to use." They both laughed and she stood up to take his hand. "A good king should respect his people, no matter who they are. Helping me, offering to make me dinner, you've done something kind for me even though I'm just a servant."

"I…" He took her other hand and their eyes met. "Guinevere, I know I have much to learn. There are some things that I am terrible at - cooking being one of them - but also, knowing what to say to someone I care about."

Gwen felt a tightness in her chest and she moved closer to him.

"Arthur, there's an assassin in Camelot! He's here to kill you!"

"No one but us knows where you are. If the assassin can't find you, he can't kill you. That said…"

"What?" Arthur asked when Merlin trailed off.

"There was a man at the tournament earlier today. Asking after you."

"You think he could be the assassin?" Gwen asked.

"Cavall and Passelande both didn't like him."

"Well if that's all it takes," Arthur snorted.

"Animals are intuitive."

"Cavall hates you, what's that say?"

"That he treats me the same way his prat of an owner does?"

"What did he want to know?" Gwen said, cutting between them.

"He asked if I was still working for Arthur. I told him I was just working for William while Arthur was away, but I don't know how much of that he believed."

"Given your ability to lie, none of it," the prince snorted. "We'll need to be on guard tomorrow. Do you think you can track him down?"

Merlin considered it, but couldn't think of a tracking spell that would work without more knowledge of the assassin or something of his. "No, but Cavall might. He can be pretty good at tracking when he actually wants to. Maybe I can bribe him with some fish from the kitchens."

Arthur rolled his eyes and turned to Gwen. "May I continue to stay here? I don't want to put you in danger."

"You're welcome to stay for as long as you need. He might not know you're here, but he'll certainly notice if you return to the castle."

"Thank you. I'll sleep on the floor tonight."

"No, have my bed. You need to be well-rested for the tournament tomorrow."

"I'll not hear of it. Goodnight, Guinevere."

"Goodnight."

As Arthur went over to the corner, Merlin followed. Out of Gwen's earshot, he whispered, "So how was your da-"

"Shut up, Merlin, and make me a bed."

The warlock blinked. "How am I supposed to do that?"

"With magic, you idiot."

"I don't know how to conjure a bed."

"Then fetch the mattress from my quarters and bring it up here."

"How am I supposed to carry a mattress on my own? I'm pretty sure someone would notice a floating bed."

"I don't know, strap it to your back."

Merlin glared at him and turned to leave. "I'm going to bed."

"Merlin," Arthur hissed.

"You've slept on the ground hundreds of times for patrol. I think you'll live."

"They're nearly ready for you, Sire," Alex said, holding out William's helmet as Gwen finished tightening the last of Arthur's armor.

"One moment," Arthur said, sending the fake knight back out of the tent. He stood up and turned to Gwen.

"One more match. The tournament will be over."

"You can go back to being Prince Arthur." She grabbed the scrap of cloth she'd brought with her and held it out. "Um… I thought you might wear it… for luck."

"Thank you."

She smiled, then looked away. She tied it around his arm with shaking hands. Once done, she looked up again.

Arthur leaned down and kissed her.

When he pulled away, she felt a mountain of unsaid things crash down on her, and she could see the same happen to him.

"I must go."

"I'll go get him," she said, leaving the tent. She sent Alex in then walked towards the stands.

"Arthur all ready?" Merlin asked, appearing at her side with a grumpy-looking cat in his arms.

"Uh-huh."

"I took care of the assassin."

"Uh-huh."

Merlin cocked his head. "Are you okay?"

"Uh-huh."

"Did he kiss you?"

"Uh-huh."

Merlin laughed and she blinked. "What?"

"So you and William, huh?" he chuckled and she blushed.

"Oh, I don't know. I mean, I'm just a serving girl. Nothing can really happen."

"But something did happen?"

She went to swat his arm, but stopped when she remembered Cavall. She frowned when she realized he was clawing up Merlin's jacket. "Uh."

"He's mad because he wants more fish. If I let him go, he'll head to the kitchens and the cook only agreed to let me have the fish she gave me if I keep him from the kitchens for the rest of the day. So I get clawed and he gets carried. Lose-lose for us both."

"But you found the assassin."

He nodded. "He must have realized William was you-know-who. I found him just as he was about to sneak into Sir Alynor's tent with a lance that had a dagger hidden in its point. I took care of it."

She sighed with relief and turned to watch the joust.

"So…"

"Shush, Merlin."

"The assassin was found dead, his own dagger in his heart. He must have angered the wrong person during his hunt."

"It seems we both have good news. The creature is dead," Arthur said, keeping his face blank.

"Excellent, but now we have Odin to consider. He must be made to pay for his actions. We must strike back at him."

"Surely you understand the grief he feels for the loss of his son? We should try to make peace with him. There's been enough bloodshed."

"Perhaps you're right," Uther allowed. "You must be wondering about the tournament. We have a new champion, Sir William of Daira."

"I'm sorry I missed all the excitement," he said, glancing between Arthur and Guinevere and barely keeping his smile neutral.

Once the meeting was over, Arthur followed his father out, but paused when he saw Guinevere. He stayed back and called her. "What happened while I was staying with you… I'm afraid my father would never understand."

She smiled and shook her head. "You don't have to explain. Perhaps when you are King, more things will be different then we'd thought."

He couldn't respond, just met her sad smile with his own.

"Arthur?" Uther called and Arthur turned away.