This got away from me a bit. Sorry for the length.
THE WATER WITCH AND THE BLACK DOGS
By TIPPER
CHAPTER THIRTEEN: JESTERS IN ARMS
Merlin woke up first, so he was told, before Gwaine. He didn't remember it all that well, nor the second or third time that he woke up, but he had it on good authority that each time, he was awake for longer. A few images were imprinted, though. He remembered seeing Arthur sitting by his bed, the king, his friend, asleep in an uncomfortable looking chair, head at an odd angle. He remembered it partly because it was strange, but also because he'd imagined the amount of complaining he'd hear the next day when he brought him his breakfast. It hadn't occurred to him that he wasn't in his bed at Camelot, or that he wouldn't be bringing Arthur anything. He also remembered a conversation, hushed and worried, between Arthur and someone he didn't know. It had sounded important, and might mean Arthur was in danger, so he'd tried hard not to fall asleep again. He obviously had. And he remembered someone singing near his bed, a soft, almost mournful tune. He hadn't recognized it, or the singer, just that she'd sounded sad. The person had brushed the hair off his forehead, and he'd hoped it was his mother. It wasn't.
But, for all that, it wasn't until today, the third day (apparently), that he could actually sit up in bed and stay awake long enough to be bear hugged by Percival, arm slapped by Arthur and grinned at by Elyan (who still had his arm in a sling).
He also saw where he was for the first time (again, that he could remember), and it most definitely wasn't Camelot. Or in a servants' quarters. The room was almost as big as Arthur's back home, and he was lying in a massive four post bed, covered in silken quilts. He couldn't help it—he felt uncomfortable, like someone was going to come in any moment and arrest him for impertinence.
"Lady Clarissant insisted," Arthur explained, clearly reading the obvious question on Merlin's face. "She wasn't going to have either you or Gwaine kept anywhere but in the best quarters while staying in her home."
Merlin's eyebrows lifted, and, though he still felt a little like an imposter, he couldn't deny that the sheets were really very soft.
"I really slept for three days?" he asked, still trying to wrap his head around it, and wondering if it wasn't some sort of jest.
"Yeah. Hildy was getting worried, and I almost sent for Gaius. But, apparently, you really just needed the rest."
"It's mostly because, even though you woke up first, Gwaine's recovering faster," Elyan said, sitting on the end of the bed, bouncing slightly. "He actually managed to get out of bed a couple of times yesterday, but he tires easily. It's not too different from how he was after the time Morgana—" He stopped talking abruptly, and glanced at Arthur. "I mean, when he was last…you know…um…."
"I know," Merlin said, smiling indulgently at his friend. "What about the others?"
"Everyone is on the mend, including your new best friend, Prince Pieter," Arthur said, scowling slightly. "Despite still looking like a scarecrow, he's also been up and about since yesterday, and he's nearly as annoying as he used to be. He's also been trying to get in here to see you, claiming that he's going to steal you away from Camelot. You'll make sure to tell him where your loyalties lie, right? I mean, you may have helped save Mercia, but Camelot's still your home."
Merlin grinned. "I don't know. What's he offering? I mean, if it's better hours, better pay, fewer beat downs in the practice yard…."
"Yeah," Arthur said slowly, arching an eyebrow. "Don't even think about it. Now, come on." He plucked at his sleeve. "On your feet. You've been lying around for long enough. Hildy says we need to get you to walk today."
Merlin nodded, and drew his legs up to extricate them from the quilts. He was already missing the bed—it was something sleeping on a real mattress like this. The three of them moved a little closer when he got his feet over the side and stood up…and almost fell on his face. Arthur caught him and steadied him.
"Alright?" the king said as Merlin got his feet under him. Merlin nodded. After a moment, he felt strong enough to let go of Arthur's arm.
"Just needed to get my equilibrium back," he said, taking a couple of steps. He felt normal again fairly quickly, though he was already tired.
"You know," he said, taking a few more steps. "I was wondering…." He looked at Arthur. "How were you still in the vicinity when Pieter found you? I would have thought you would have already reached Bayard."
"Oh. You can thank Prince Renaud for that," Arthur said. "Apparently, border scouts had informed him that I was heading to Mercia, so he came to intercept us. He'd guessed why we'd come—to help with the search—and he wanted to greet us. Or, more likely, size us up—man's got the air of a seasoned general. Either way, he managed to stop us only a day from here. We were meeting to discuss a strategy to help find Thiernan and Pieter when Pieter arrived, looking like something the cat dragged in. He was barely coherent, but we figured out enough to know that we needed to get back here and help you."
"Lucky for us," Merlin said. He walked back to the bed and sat down, rubbing at his shaking legs.
"I don't know—looked like you and Gwaine pretty much had everything sorted before we ever arrived," Percival offered.
"And I didn't even get to help," Elyan said, pouting slightly. "Hurt arm or not, Merlin, you could have asked—"
"It all happened too quickly," Merlin said, not meeting his gaze. "Sorry." Elyan's pout just deepened, and Percival smiled at him.
"Buck up, Elyan. I'm sure you'll be able to kill some mercenaries next time."
Elyan threw him a glare, and Arthur smiled, sitting down next to Merlin on the bed.
"So," Percival said, clapping his hands together. "We've heard a lot of the story about Thiernan and Peg Powler from Pieter, but one thing none of us know is how you defeated Peg. Elyan's thinking Gwaine talker her to death, and Arthur thinks you nagged her to death. So, what's the story?"
Merlin gave Arthur a sullen look at the "nagged to death" comment. "Actually, we didn't do it alone. We had help. You remember the black dogs?"
Instantly, all three of them paled, and Percival asked, "They helped you?"
"Peg made it clear that she was going to poison all the rivers in Mercia, starting with the one in that valley. The black dogs didn't want to move."
"They took her down?" Arthur asked, frowning now.
"Well, Gwaine had already taken a few pieces out of her. They just finished the job."
"Huh," Arthur said, eyebrows lifting. "Don't take this the wrong way but, why didn't the dogs kill you afterwards?"
Merlin looked down at his bare feet. "I think…." He shrugged. "I think they let us go because we understood each other. All they were trying to do was protect their family and their home. So were we." He shook his head and looked at Arthur. "All they want is to be left alone."
Arthur stared at him for a long moment. Finally, he flashed a rueful smile.
"Well, I have no plans to hunt them anymore," he said softly. "And, apparently, I owe them for saving you and Gwaine. And probably a lot of other people."
"Yeah, you do."
Arthur patted a hand to Merlin's arm. "Just do me a favor and don't bring one home as a pet."
Percival and Elyan both burst into laughter, and Merlin grinned.
Arthur stood up and held out a hand. "Want to go see Gwaine? He was still sleeping when I checked in on him earlier, but he should be waking soon. And there's a nice big chair in his room near the fireplace that's screaming your name."
…
…
Someone was giggling. That was the first thing Gwaine really understood. A child was giggling, almost laughing, not far from where he was sleeping.
Reluctantly, he opened his eyes to find his sister sitting on a chair next to his bed with Anne on her lap. Anne wasn't the one giggling, though. She was playing with a doll. Clara smiled at him, and Gwaine returned the favor.
"How are you feeling?" she asked. "Better?"
"Yeah," he admitted, pushing himself up into a sitting position. The hammering in his head had finally faded, and he no longer felt like all his limbs were made of jelly. He also felt, blessedly, awake. To be honest, he couldn't remember the last time he had slept this long or this hard. It probably had something to do with the fact that no one was trying to kill him at the moment.
Clara popped Anne off her knee and bent over to speak to her. "Anne, go tell your uncles and King Arthur that Sir Gwaine has awoken."
The little girl's expression brightened, and she ran off to do as she was told, her blond curls bouncing behind her. Gwaine followed her with his eyes, but stopped when he spotted Merlin sitting in a chair next to the fireplace, talking to his nephew. His face split into a grin at the sight of them—Merlin looked almost healthy again. It was obviously Gregory who had been (and was still) giggling, and Merlin was trying to shush him.
"He's awake, see?" Merlin was mock whispering. "Why don't you go say hello?"
Gregory, still smiling brightly, nodded and bounded over to Gwaine's side.
"Hi!" he said.
"Hi!" Gwaine replied. He noticed the boy's fingers were covered in what looked like ink, and there was some on his clothes as well. "What's on your hands?"
Instantly, the boy's eyes widened, and then he all but ran back to Merlin's side, hiding behind the chair and giggling even more insanely, if that was possible. Gwaine lifted his eyebrows towards Merlin.
"He was painting you," Merlin explained, lifting his hands up in a shrug. "I can't say it's flattering."
Ah. Gwaine offered a crooked smile. "I'm sure it's a great picture. I'd love to see it."
Gregory howled with laughter, and Merlin shook his head. "Maybe later."
Gwaine's eyes narrowed as a thought struck him, but before he could voice it, the door opened and Anne stomped inside pulling Arthur by hand, the king looking somewhat bemused by the four-year-old's actions. On their heels were Princes Renaud and Pieter. Arthur and Renaud both paused upon seeing Gwaine (despite Anne still tugging insistently on Arthur's hand), but when Pieter looked at him, he just grinned. He looked far better than when Gwaine had last seen him, though he was obviously still pale and shaky from weeks of abuse, and though he was only a year or two older than Renaud, he looked far older than him now, his face aged with lines that would take a long time to fade.
"Anne," Clara called. "Come back over here." The little girl let go of Arthur and ran to her mom, jumping onto her lap again.
"Well, you finally look better," Pieter said, striding over to standing behind Clara's chair. "Clarissant here was beginning to worry, and my brother Renaud was a basket-case." That earned him a pained look from his brother; Gwaine had a feeling their relationship was an interesting one.
"It is good to see you well," Arthur said, standing now next to the bed. "Think you'll be able to get on your feet this afternoon?"
Gwaine's eyebrows lifted and he sat up, ready to throw back the quilts on his legs. "Of course. Whatever you need. Just tell me—"
"No, no," Arthur laughed. "Not right now. My lady," Arthur bowed to Clara, "will you make sure your brother is prepared for this afternoon?"
"Of course," she said, smiling at him as Gwaine frowned at her. "And Merlin as well."
"Wait, what?" Merlin called from where he was still talking quietly with Gregory. Gregory went quiet, and took a step away from Merlin's chair. "What's happening?"
"Lord Bayard arrived this morning," Arthur explained. "He wishes to speak with you both in the Great Hall this afternoon."
"He's here?" Gwaine asked.
"He is," Arthur affirmed. "He came to see me. I did not want to leave while you were laid up, and since his sons were already here with me, Bayard decided to come here in order to meet me and—" He stopped, pressing his lips together, and looked across to Pieter and Renaud. It was Renaud who stepped forward.
"He has come to speak with our brother Thiernan, and to pass sentence," the prince said, standing stiffly. "They're meeting this morning."
"Speaking of, that should be happening about now," Pieter said, solemn now. "We should go."
"My lady," Renaud said, bowing to Clara. "Will you be present?"
She stared at him, and then lowered her head. Anne had buried her head in her mother's shoulder when Renaud had mentioned her father, and Clara was holding her tightly.
"I will be present if the King wishes it so, your highness," she said, her voice tentative. Gwaine frowned slightly, wishing he knew what to say, how to protect her and them. He noticed Gregory had disappeared behind Merlin's chair, as if hiding.
Renaud gave a nod of understanding. "We will only summon you if we need you."
She relaxed slightly in the chair, and kissed the top of her daughter's head. "Thank you, Renaud," she whispered. Pieter gripped her shoulder briefly, and the two princes turned to leave. Pieter flashed Gwaine one more smile before disappearing out of the door after his brother.
A terrible thought came to Gwaine then, in thinking about how Thiernan's trial might go. He looked at Clara, and saw that she was still keeping her head down.
"Arthur," he said, looking at his king. "Could you give us a few minutes?"
Arthur had clearly been expecting this, his face hard as he nodded.
Merlin stood. "Would you like me to take the children as well?"
Gwaine gave him a grateful smile. "Thanks."
Merlin looked behind his chair, and drew out Gregory by his hand.
"Go with Merlin, Anne," Clara said, popping Anne off her lap. But, rather than Merlin, Anne ran around the bed and stood in front of Arthur, raising her arms towards him. Arthur sighed heavily, but bent down and lifted her up, depositing the little girl on his hip. She giggled and rested her head on his shoulder, little arms around his neck.
"We'll be in Merlin's suite," Arthur said to Gwaine.
Once the door shut behind the four of them, Clara sighed heavily.
"I have to thank your friends," she said. "They have kept the children distracted these past few days. Gregory didn't even speak to anyone for the first two, but your friends got him to laugh yesterday, and today, to hear him giggle…. I owe your Merlin a debt." She smiled softly. "And, of course, Anne has a huge crush on Arthur, so has been flirting horribly. I can't blame her." She huffed a laugh. "But the fact that the king indulges a four-year-old girl so sweetly…." She looked at Gwaine. "I see what you mean about him. He is different. The way he cares about all of you…."
Gwaine nodded. "I told you."
"You did." She lowered her gaze to her lap. "I am happy you found someone worthy of your respect, Gwaine."
Gwaine studied her a moment. "What do you think Bayard's going to do to Thiernan?"
Her brow furrowed. "I expect that he will be stripped of his titles and locked away for a very long time. But…" She frowned. "If you're asking if the king will execute him…? No. I doubt it. It's not done."
Gwaine understood that. Bayard couldn't execute his own son—but sticking a mad son in some desolate keep somewhere, probably somewhere up north where it was colder and darker, that was something he could do. But in sending Thiernan away…
"Clara," he asked, "what will happen to you?" Women could not hold land, and with Thiernan jailed and his titles stripped…
She shook her head. "I don't know," she admitted. But then she smiled and looked up. "Strange thing is, it doesn't bother me as much as it should. Well, I mean, it bothers me, even terrifies me a little that I don't know where we're going to end up, but I've been so relieved these past three days, it's sort of overridden everything else. We're finally free of him. It's…" Her gaze drifted away. "I don't think I can express what it's like, having him gone, knowing that I won't ever be terrified if he'll drink too much, or have a bad day on a hunt, or just have a headache. Just not having his eyes on me or the children anymore, it's like…" She gave a shaky laugh, opening her arms wide. "For the first time since I married him, I can choose how I want to spend my day. More still, I realize I can choose how I want to live my life."
Gwaine frowned. Her life? "But—"
"Oh, I know. You think Bayard will still expect to dictate our lives. And you're not wrong. He will want us to stay in Mercia, to live with some relatives, to be some great family's wards. After all, Anne and Gregory are still his grandchildren—that still makes them royalty. And being wards would mean we still live like nobles, with servants and a grand house, everything I thought I wanted even a week ago." She shrugged, and looked at Gwaine again. "But now that Thiernan's gone, I find I like this feeling of freedom too much, far more than I need that grand house or those servants. I don't want to lose it." She shook her head. "I want to be my own master. I want my own home, Gwaine, and since I can't have this one anymore, I want to find a new one on my own."
"On your own," he repeated, his frown deepening. "Then…then you don't want me to—"
"No." Her smile broadened. "I won't take you from your family. And I want to do this. When I find my home, it will be mine to run. No more living under anyone else's roof, beholden to Bayard or his relatives, afraid of being thrown out or tossed aside. I don't want to be kept anymore. My home will be mine and my children's, whether it be stone or thatched. Although…" She winked at him. "I do have enough money set aside for a nice cottage, and a housekeeper and maid. I just have to figure out where."
Gwaine gave her a crooked smile, and reached over to grab her hand. "You are a remarkable woman, sister mine."
"And you are a remarkable man, brother mine. And, as it turns out? You really are phenomenal with a sword. Who knew?"
He gave her a stupid grin, and she leaned in to kiss his face. When she leaned back, he noticed she had black on her upper lip and his face fell.
"Hey," he said, touching his face only to find charcoal stuck to his hands. "He didn't. Merlin! Oy, Merlin! Get back in here!"
Merlin had apparently not gone far. He popped his head back inside the door, eyebrows raised. Gregory was still with him, peeking out around Merlin's waist. When Gwaine thrust his hands at him, to show the charcoal on them, the servant grinned.
"I told you it wasn't flattering," he said. At that, little Gregory fell to the flagstone floor, rolling around in laughter.
…
…
Thiernan was to be imprisoned in a keep on the northern edges of the kingdom, a hairsbreadth away from the lands ruled by the Vikings. The castles up there were dark and imposing, with walls the width of ten men and almost no windows. No one survived them for long.
Gwaine was told this as he and Merlin were led to the Great Hall by a subdued Pieter. Arthur walked by their side, his head down. Clara also walked with them, touching the hands of the servants as they walked by them, the servants all looking genuinely sad that she would soon be leaving them. Hildy even gave her a tearful hug, and Clara held her tight briefly, before thanking her and insisting that they had to keep moving. The king was waiting.
"You know," Merlin whispered to Arthur as they walked, "he doesn't really need to see me. I could just slip out and—"
"Shut up, Merlin."
"No, really, I—"
Arthur gave him a silencing look, and Merlin sighed heavily. Gwaine wished he could comfort his friend, but he didn't feel much better. For all that he'd saved Pieter, he had also almost beheaded Thiernan. Evil son or not, what father could take such an action well?
Upon reaching the Great Hall, it took Gwaine a moment to recognize it. The cauldrons of boiling oil were long gone, and the windows along the upper wall were all wide open, letting in the cool gray day. The tapestries with Thiernan on them were also gone, leaving bare walls. Only the Mercian knights along the walls, in their bright blue capes, added any color to the room.
Gwaine swallowed nervously upon seeing Bayard standing at the far end of the hall, the king of Mercia looking worn down already by the day. When they walked in, he'd been speaking softly to Renaud, who was standing at attention like any good soldier.
Arthur swept in front of them, walking up to Bayard and giving a slight bow. Bayard matched it, identical in every way—two equals meeting. Renaud bowed a little more deeply, and stepped away.
"Your majesty," Arthur said, gesturing behind him to where Gwaine and Merlin were standing behind him. "May I present Sir Gwaine."
Bayard had a rather inscrutable look on his face as he studied the knight, but it soon passed and the king inclined his head. "Sir Gwaine."
"Your majesty," Gwaine said, bowing low. Next to him, he noticed Merlin was trying to sidle sideways to hide behind Arthur, his head down so that his hair hid his face. Camelot's king simply stepped out of the way and gestured towards Merlin.
"And," Arthur said. "May I present my manservant—"
"Merlin," Bayard finished. Merlin paled to near white, but Bayard didn't seem to notice. Instead, he strode over to the young man and….held out a hand. Merlin, if possibly, paled even further, not taking it. Bayard chuckled, and Arthur cleared his throat. Merlin blushed and took Bayard's arm, which Bayard proceeded to grip tightly, based on how tense Merlin's arm and shoulder went.
"You have no need for concern, son." Bayard promised. "I may not have known your name for a while, but I know who you are. It's not every day I am accused of being a poisoner by a servant." He smirked, and let go of Merlin's arm. Rubbing it a little, Merlin's brow furrowed slightly as Bayard's smile deepened into something akin to respect. "Truth is, while I did not appreciate the accusation, I did admire what you did afterwards. The fact that you willingly drank from the poisoned goblet to save your master was an extraordinary act of bravery and devotion. Believe me, I hold no ill will towards anyone who would do that."
Merlin's brow furrowed slightly, and he looked at Arthur, who simply gave a tiny shrug and a smile. Bayard, meanwhile, turned away and indicated to several servants standing by a set of chairs. The servants quickly brought them forward and set them down, forming almost a semi-circle.
"I know that you are also both not fully recovered. Please, sit."
After looking to Arthur for permission, Merlin sat down with Arthur sitting to his left. Gwaine followed his lead, and he felt Clara stand behind him, her hand on his shoulder.
Bayard sat in the largest chair—the one obviously meant for the lord of the castle—and studied them for a long moment, as if sizing them up. Renaud stood behind his father's chair, back stiff with his hands behind his back and his gaze impassive. Pieter sat next to his father and smiled brightly at them both. Finally, Bayard reached over and took Pieter's hand, giving it a squeeze before letting go.
"I wanted to come in and thank you in person for bringing my son Pieter back to me," Bayard said. "From what he tells me, we owe you a debt."
"We were, uh…" Gwaine glanced at Merlin before returning his gaze to the king. "We were honored to aid your son, Sire. And to be of use to Mercia."
"Saved her, more like," Pieter said, grinning.
"Yes," Bayard agreed. "You did. And, as your king knows, it is customary to reward such actions." He looked to Gwaine. "I am told by your king," Bayard glanced at Arthur, "that I cannot make you a knight of Mercia, Sir Gwaine, as Camelot already holds your allegiance. Is that true?"
Gwaine had to nod. "Yes, your majesty, it is."
"Then you may ask a boon. If I can grant it, I will."
Gwaine huffed a breath, but he didn't have to think for very long. What he wanted was obvious.
"Anything?" he asked.
"If it is within my power, yes."
Gwaine licked his lips. "Then, I request an income."
Bayard's eyebrows lifted. "An income?"
"For my sister. Enough for her to own her own land and live comfortably, as her own mistress."
Bayard's eyes widened slightly, and lifted over Gwaine's shoulder to where Clara was now standing very still. Her hand on Gwaine's shoulder had tightened as soon as he made the request. He wasn't sure she was even breathing.
"I assume," Gwaine said, "that, because of what may have happened this morning, that Lady Clarissant will no longer be able to live here. If that's the case, then, she would prefer—"
Bayard held up a hand, his brow furrowed, and Gwaine swallowed nervously. Had he crossed a line asking something for his sister?
"You wish to stay here, is that what he's saying?" Bayard asked, obviously directing the question at Clara. "Even after everything that has happened under this roof?" Gwaine twisted to look over his shoulder at her. She blinked once, slowly, but then nodded.
"I would," she said quietly.
"Then you shall," Bayard said. "I will grant this castle and these lands in the name of your son, my grandson, Lord Gregory. Until he comes of age, you shall manage this castle as its mistress." He tilted his head. "Is that acceptable?"
Her grip on Gwaine's shoulder was so tight now, it was actually beginning to hurt. He held back the wince, and realized that she was pressing so hard because she was trying not to react too broadly…either with happiness or tears or both. The tiniest smile lit at her lips as she stepped forward and curtsied deeply.
"That is acceptable," she said, her voice a little rough. "My deepest gratitude, your majesty."
"And you, Gwaine?" Bayard asked. "Does that satisfy your request?"
Gwaine had no compunction, he grinned happily. "It does. Thank you, your majesty."
Bayard flashed a half-smile, and Gwaine realized that this was likely something Bayard had either planned or wanted to do all along. But this way, he got to seem magnanimous in the gesture.
Bayard's eyes now turned to Merlin. Merlin had gripped his hands into fists, and, for some reason, he seemed to become almost small under the king's gaze. Gwaine's happiness faded somewhat, wishing he knew what was about to happen.
"As for you, Merlin," Bayard began, "I have a little story to tell you. It's one I don't believe Arthur here knows."
Merlin frowned, glancing briefly at Arthur.
"After I learned that you'd survived being poisoned," Bayard began, "I was impressed enough by your actions that I offered to buy you from Uther. Unfortunately, once Uther knew I wanted something of his, he suddenly found you invaluable. Initially, he told me that he could not take you away from Arthur, as Arthur was too fond of you. Then, when I visited, or he visited me, he would tell me stories of what he called your 'uncompromising loyalty' to Arthur, since he knew it would rankle me. I did, of course, take many of these stories with a grain of salt, assuming most were fabrications, since I figured he was telling me them so that he could eventually throw you into some negotiation."
Merlin seemed frozen, as if he wasn't sure what was happening, but, for Gwaine, it was Arthur who was the most interesting to watch. He'd started out confused, but as Bayard continued, a dark scowl had formed that, by this point, could only be termed thunderous.
"Until these events, however, I don't think I truly understood how exceptional you truly are. I no longer believe that Uther was making up his stories about you, not after what Pieter has told me. As a result, I would like to offer you a place in my court, as my own personal servant. The position would entitle you—"
Arthur suddenly stood up. "Bayard!"
Bayard clearly decided to ignore him, still speaking to Merlin. "I would be willing to provide you with an income above whatever you may be getting now, in addition to my personal promise of a small estate when you retire, for your family. Obviously, having those lands would make you, in the august of your life, a Gentleman of Mer—"
"This is out of order!" Arthur snapped.
Bayard held up a hand. "You gave me your word, Arthur." He looked to the King of Camelot. "You told me yourself that you would allow me to offer any gift I chose to your men."
"Not this! It's inappropriate! You cannot—"
"Would you deny him the choice? You told me-"
"I will not let you steal Merlin! My father may have been willing to barter him, but I will not!"
"This isn't a barter," Bayard challenged, eyes narrowed. "It's an offer. To him. If you truly care for your servant, then you will let him decide for himself. Have you given him any promises for his future like I have? Allow him the opportunity to consider—"
"I don't need to consider," Merlin said, his voice soft. Oddly, despite the quiet delivery, it instantly shut up both kings, and Gwaine had to hide a smile. Merlin's hands were gripped so tightly into fists on his lap, that they were almost white. He drew in a steadying breath before speaking again. "While I genuinely appreciate the offer, your majesty, I cannot take it."
Bayard's eyes narrowed. "What if I offer to double your current income?"
"Oh, for God's sake," Arthur muttered.
Merlin, though, just shook his head. "I'm sorry, your majesty, but I promised Arthur that I would remain his servant until I die. I will not go back on that promise."
Bayard stared at him, lips slightly parted. Finally, he huffed. "Uncompromising loyalty," he repeated softly. He shook his head. "You truly are one of a kind, Merlin."
Merlin smiled weakly. "No. There are others like me. I'm just…more well known, apparently."
"I'm not certain that is true," Bayard replied to Merlin. "But I hope it is."
Arthur had sat back down by now, but he was staring unblinkingly at his hands, as if he didn't quite know what had just occurred. Gwaine glanced at Renaud and Pieter, to find Renaud looking vaguely displeased, and Pieter clearly disappointed. Gwaine realized that Bayard had probably made the offer in large part for his son—and probably to test Arthur's loyalty as much as Merlin's. A great deal had just been revealed about how Arthur felt about Merlin, and Gwaine wondered if it had been a good thing.
Bayard sighed and tilted his head. "Well, as I cannot convince you to enter my service, Merlin, then I too offer you a boon. If it is in my power to grant it, I will."
Merlin's brow furrowed slightly, as he looked down at his now unfisted hands. Eventually, he shook his head. "I embarrassed to say that cannot think one right now, Sire. But, again, I appreciate the offer."
"Then," Bayard shrugged. "I suppose I shall simply owe you a favor."
Merlin's head lifted, surprised. Arthur's did as well, but this time, he almost smiled.
"In the meantime," Bayard said, standing up. "I can show my gratitude in one other way." He waved a hand at another servant, who quickly bustled forward with a box in his hands. "I want to let you both know that you are always welcome in Mercia and in my home. As proof, I hereby bequeath my seal to each of you…" The servant opened the box, revealing two small gold seals, and Bayard lifted them out. With a solemn air, he deposited one in each of Merlin's and Gwaine's hands. "This seal will not only grant you passage throughout my kingdom unmolested, but they declare you as heroes of the kingdom, so wherever you go, you will be treated with respect."
"Huzzah!" Pieter called out, jumping out of his chair and bounding over to grasp Merlin's hand to shake it. "That means you have to come and visit! No excuses!" Bayard's entire expression morphed into happiness at his son's obvious exuberance. Arthur stood then, stepped forward and started speaking quickly to Bayard and Renaud, the conversation looking a little tense and obviously not for Gwaine or Merlin's ears. Pieter started talking Merlin's ear off about coming to visit, so Gwaine felt free to turn around and speak to his sister.
She was staring at him, and there were clear tears in her eyes.
"Thank you," she whispered.
He shrugged. "I wasn't sure you would accept. What about not being beholden to anyone? About owning your own roof?"
"That was before you managed to find a way to let me keep my home," she said. "Pretty hard to turn down the chance to stay here, in my own castle. The servants will be very happy as well."
"Well," he shrugged, "I think being a princess looks good on you."
Her smile fell slightly at that. She took his hand.
"About that," she said. "About my wanting to be a princess when I was younger..."
He shook his head. "You don't have to say anything."
"Of course I do," she said. "Because I should have apologized at the same time that you did." She lowered her gaze. "I was a fool to want this more than my family back then, Gwaine. And more the fool that I didn't run away when I could have once it all went wrong." She gripped his hand tightly. "I need you to know how truly sorry I am for what happened between us. I know full well that I was as much in the wrong as you, and that I shouldn't have left you, Gaheris and mother. I paid for that choice. But I can make up for it now. Please know that this castle is as much your home as ours, should you ever need someplace to go. And, even if you don't…" She tilted her head. "Promise me you'll come and visit from time to time anyway."
Gwaine leaned in and gave her a hug. "As often as I can, you old toad."
"I'm keeping you to that, lizard breath," she replied, hugging him just as tightly.
…
…
Early the next morning, Merlin was packing his (freshly cleaned and mended) clothes into his bag (he was going to miss having a servant of his own), when there came a knock on the door. He didn't even look up as he called "come in!", assuming that it was the young man that had been serving him.
"Hey," Arthur called, and Merlin turned, not hiding his surprise. Arthur knocked? Arthur never knocked.
"Are you well, Sire?" Perhaps he was ill? Some malady of politeness?
"Am I well, he asks," Arthur muttered, shaking his head. He walked across the room to where Merlin was standing by the bed, only to come to a stop a few feet away, his head down. Merlin frowned.
"Um, perhaps you should sit down. I could get some water—"
"I'm fine," Arthur snapped, his jaw hardening. He glanced up at Merlin, then huffed a sigh, his entire expression falling. Head down, he walked over to sit on the bed next to where Merlin was standing. "I just…I wanted to speak to you about yesterday. I meant to find you last night, but Bayard—"
"I know. He seemed intent to talk your ear off last night." Merlin shrugged. "Me, I was too busy enjoying being served instead of being the one serving, and thinking about how much I was going to miss sleeping on silk." He sighed with yearning, patting the silken quilts. "I have to say, Mercia hasn't been all bad."
Arthur flashed a crooked smile, and finally looked up. "Actually, that's what I wanted to talk to you about. About Bayard's offer, which you rejected…."
"Of course, I did." Merlin frowned again, this time in annoyance. Seriously? This is what he was worried about?
"Thing is, I don't want you to feel beholden to me because of that promise you made." Arthur looked down. "I want you to know that I don't hold you to it. If a better opportunity arises, you should properly consider it. I would understand."
Merlin snorted and returned to packing, stuffing the last of the clothes with probably a little too much force. "Oh, please. This conversation is stupid. Let's stop it."
Arthur frowned, and he looked up again. "No, it's not. Bayard was right about one thing—you should be thinking about your future. Bayard offered you land and—"
Merlin shrugged. "That? Come on, that's nothing. You'll give me land someday."
That earned a confused look. "I will? Why would I—?"
"Because I know you. You'll give me land and a title, and you won't give it to me just because I'm your servant." Merlin finished packing by stuffing in the gold Mercian seal and pulling the leather drawstrings tightly closed.
Arthur frowned, eyes narrowing suspiciously. "I won't?"
Merlin rolled his eyes, tying the drawstrings together. "No, you'll give me land for the same reason that I didn't take Bayard's job offer." He tossed the bag aside and looked at Arthur. "Because you know damn well that this isn't just a position to me. This?" He pointed between them. "This isn't a job, it's a friendship. You're my best friend, even though you're a complete prat, and I'm yours. I'm not going to leave you for some thankless job with a jerk like Bayard."
Arthur blinked. "Jerk?"
"Oh please. You think I don't know what that was about yesterday? That whole fiction he created about wanting me in his household and your father talking about me? I know you loved your father, Arthur, but honestly, he had as much time for servants as you have for cowards. I can never imagine him talking about a servant to another king. Uther didn't even know my name for a whole year, remember?"
When Arthur frowned, Merlin almost laughed. "Arthur, come on. You told me yourself not a week ago that Bayard wouldn't remember me. And when he took my arm in that throne, and said all those pretty things about how he admired what I did? I knew for a fact you were right. He had that searching look in his eyes that people get when they have no memory of your face." He affected a vague expression and a slight squint in demonstration, and Arthur's expression morphed with recognition.
Merlin nodded. "So while I'm sure he recalls vividly being accused of poison, you were right—he didn't recall me at all. Pieter probably had to remind him who I was, because Pieter knows who everyone is. He's that kind of a person, but Bayard? He's exactly like your father, just like you said he was." He shook his head. "No. Bayard made up that story and offered me that job for only two reasons. The lesser reason is probably that Pieter might have asked him to, because Pieter genuinely does think I'm worth something. But the more important reason was to get under your skin—he was hoping to show you up. He wanted to see just how riled you would get and…well, you pretty much fell for it. He was hoping to make you look like a fool." He smiled ruefully then. "Not that I didn't appreciate how angry you got."
Arthur's brow was still furrowed, but he smiled a tiny bit at that. "I did kind of blow up."
"And that's why you're not going to lose me to someone like that." He shrugged. "Because you didn't get angry just because he was trying to steal me." You got angry because you were afraid to lose me.
Arthur gave a small laugh. "I suppose that's true." He rubbed at his head. "And I probably did look like a fool, and maybe even revealed a weakness."
"Not to anyone who mattered," Merlin replied. "And caring from your friends is never a weakness. Which brings us back to the beginning, wherein I was right, as usual. This conversation is stupid."
Arthur shook his head. "God, you're obnoxious when you're right about something."
"Yeah…that's not the pot calling the kettle black, or anything."
The king laughed, and stood up. "Touché."
Merlin picked up his bag and swung it over his shoulder. "Oh, but you are going to give serious thought to raising my pay. And granting me land at some point in the future."
Arthur's smile widened. "Look who's gotten greedy. I thought you were never going to leave me?"
"Not for Bayard, but I can't promise for anyone else….Doubling my pay wouldn't hurt, for a start." Merlin grinned at Arthur's glare, and patted his bag. "So, are you packed?"
"Uh…"
"Right. Where are you quarters? I'll take care of it."
Arthur stared at him a moment, the affection clear in his eyes, and then he shook his head. "No, I'll get someone else to do it. You're off duty until we get back to Camelot. How about you and I go find the others and see how they're getting on with their packing?"
Merlin tilted his head. "Really?"
"Really," Arthur said, already walking to the door. "Coming?"
Merlin grinned, and, after casting one last longing look around the plush room, followed him.
"Can I ask you one thing?" he asked as he closed the door behind him. When Arthur raised his eyebrows, Merlin frowned. "Why exactly is it that, when I save a prince's life, and, by the way, a whole kingdom at the same time, my reward is always to be offered the position of a servant? Is there something written on my shirt that say, 'My greatest goal in life is to be a menial laborer?'"
"Nah," Arthur replied, walking away. "It's written on your forehead."
Merlin mocked a gasp, and punched Arthur in the arm, which only hurt his wrist and caused Arthur to burst out laughing.
…
…
A little over an hour later, they were all gathered in the lower bailey to leave, with Bayard, Pieter, Renaud and Lady Clarissant seeing them off. Merlin realized, as Pieter gave him a hug, that he was going to miss the Mercian prince.
"I'll make sure to come and see you both," Pieter promised. "But only if you two promise to show me around the best taverns in town."
"Oh," Gwaine said, grinning by Merlin's side. "That won't be hard. There's only three."
"Only three?" Pieter looked aghast. "Well then, both of you must also come visit me! Mercia has more taverns than you can spit on!"
"We'll do what we can, your highness," Merlin said, grinning as well.
"What?" Pieter said, looking at him sternly. "Now with the titles? You called me Pieter while we were on the road."
Merlin blushed. "I'm…" He licked his lips. "I'm sorry, your highness, you're right, that was inappropriate behavior, and—"
"No," Pieter said, shaking his head. "That's not what I meant. I want you to call me Pieter. It seems…right, somehow. We're friends now. Besides, I get the feeling you're not much one for calling people by their titles unless you're not happy with them."
Merlin flashed a tiny smile. "Maybe."
Pieter laughed. "And King Arthur must love that."
Merlin smiled more. "He's used to my insubordination."
"Gives him an excuse to throw things at him," Gwaine said.
Pieter laughed brightly, and he reached out to hug them again.
"Until we meet again," Pieter said after letting them go. "Which I am determined will only by under better circumstances."
"Sounds like a plan," Gwaine said, bowing slightly. Pieter bowed back and then bowed to Merlin.
"He doesn't deserve you," Pieter said then, in a mock whisper, jerking a thumb at Arthur who was walking over and was clearly in hearing range. "If you ever need me to remind him of that, just send me a letter."
Merlin blushed, and Arthur arched an eyebrow at Pieter. The prince gave the king a bow, a grin, and then strode over to stand with Renaud and Bayard.
"Ready?" Arthur asked. Merlin nodded. Gwaine glanced at his sister, Gregory and Anne, and all three waved. He grinned, and nodded to Arthur.
"Ready."
"Then let's go home."
Merlin sighed—best words he'd heard in a long, long time. Gwaine smiled at him and clapped him on the arm.
"It's going to be a long trip. Still jesters in arms?"
"Jesters in arms," Merlin agreed with a bright smile. "Always."
The End...mostly.
There's a short epilogue after this, but it's sort of dark…It's a mirror of the prologue, so, if you remember that, you'll know what I mean. You don't have to read it if you don't want to.
Thank you everyone so, so much for reading and reviewing!