Sorry for the delay on getting this chapter out, Hester's been writing something else and it just took forever for us to beta this.
Disclaimer: We do not own or are in any way affiliated with the producers or cast of Merlin.
Chapter Two
Merlin didn't think he'd ever worked so much in his life, and really, with Arthur as his master, that was saying something. In the weeks following his untimely discovery of the servant's magic, Arthur had barely let the boy out of his sight. He'd made Merlin move his meager things almost immediately into his new room and for the first few nights insisted the servant leave his door open while they slept, even though the prince was a terrible snorer. In addition, Arthur seemed to have spontaneously developed a knack for popping up in very unexpected places. Merlin and Leon had been accosted while in the armory discussing whether or not Arthur was going to grant any of the Knights leave to see their families. Said Prince had stepped out from behind a shield that had been propped innocently enough against the wall and demanded to know why Sir Leon didn't ask him instead of his servant, who had no business knowing the ins and outs of the court. The Knight had replied, faintly and with a touch of wariness in his voice, that if his highness had simply announced his presence to the room, the conversation would have been much more easily had.
Even Gaius (who had yelled at Merlin for nearly an hour after he'd informed the physician of Arthur's new-found knowledge) had noticed a change in the Prince's behavior.
"I knew when you moved your things into the antechamber that I wouldn't see you as often, Merlin," the physician said. "But this is ridiculous."
"You're telling me," muttered Merlin, hefting Arthur's polished armor against his chest. "He watches me all the time. He still makes me keep my door open at night just so he can hear if I get up." Gaius' eyebrows flew toward his hairline.
"Well, Merlin," he said. "Whatever I thought would come of your carelessness, I must say, I certainly never expected this."
"Expected what?" Arthur's voice rose up behind them. Gaius turned, and Merlin craned his neck.
"Oh, nothing, sire," said the aged man smoothly. "I was just telling Merlin how proud I am that he hasn't been shirking his duties." Merlin glared and Arthur nodded gravely.
"I've been keeping him busy," he informed helpfully. Merlin glared harder.
"Yes, sire," said Gaius. "I've hardly seen hide nor hair of him for weeks. You've kept him close."
"Yes, well, you can't be too careful," said Arthur. Merlin was taken aback by the seriousness in the Prince's voice. Gaius' eyebrows rose impossibly higher.
"Of course, sire," he said slowly. "Well, Merlin. I must be off. Good day to you both." He gave the Prince a slight bow. Arthur acknowledged him with a nod and placed a hand on Merlin's shoulder.
"And the same to you, Gaius." They watched the elderly man amble down the corridor for a moment, and Arthur sighed.
"Alright, Merlin," he said. "Give me some of that." The warlock blinked.
"I'm sorry-what?"
"The armor, Merlin," said the Prince. "Hand me some." Merlin passed Arthur his helmet and scabbard as though in a trance, his mouth slightly agape and his brow raised. Arthur caught sight of the boy's face and flushed.
"Oh, shut up, Merlin," he snapped. "I'm giving you a hand. It can't be that surprising." Merlin shook his head and started walking.
"Of course not, sire," he said, politely. "Your generosity knows no bounds." Arthur cuffed him.
"Quiet," he said good naturedly. Merlin glared and rubbed sullenly at the back of his head. "Come on then. We need to get ready for the banquet this evening."
"But sire," said Merlin, failing to keep a whine out of his voice. "We've got all evening to get you dressed. Do we really need to start looking at tunics now? They're tunics, they're red. That's all you wear. Sometimes I think you just go behind the screen and shuffle about for a bit..."
"Of course we do, Merlin," said Arthur, ignoring him deftly. "How else are we going to plan our outfits?" The warlock paled dramatically.
"Wait, 'our outfits'?"
"Arthur." The King's voice boomed from the top of the stairs. "I've been looking for you."
"Good evening, Father," said Arthur. "What did you need me for?"
"I need to borrow your servant," said Uther. "It seems Richard has taken ill, and it won't do for the King of Camelot to be seen at negotiations bereft a server."
"You'd want him for the whole evening?" Arthur had a funny look on his face, and Merlin was concerned the Prince might be sick. Uther nodded his assent.
"He'll attend me during-"
"I'd rather he didn't, my lord," said Arthur curtly. "I'll be needing him to help prepare me for the banquet tonight. I'm sure I'd be able to find you a suitable replacement for your manservant."
"And I'm sure that the Crown Prince is perfectly capable of dressing himself," Uther snapped. Arthur flushed angrily and Merlin did his best to shrink behind the Prince.
"But father-"
"This is ridiculous, Arthur," Uther said sharply. "You will send the boy down as soon as he's finished your armor. I don't know what's gotten into you, but if you continue to display this sort of unseemly behaviour, I will be forced to reconsider the boy's placement as your manservant." Arthur opened his mouth to argue, but Uther was already half way down the hall, his back stiff with irritation. Merlin shuffled forward.
"Come on, Arthur," he murmured. "Let's just go."
The Prince didn't reply but followed his servant. He opened the door for Merlin first and closed it behind them, the sound loud and echoing in the quiet of his chambers. The boy looked up from setting Arthur's armor down and saw the Prince turn, his eyes fixed on Merlin. The warlock swallowed tightly and shifted his weight, debating furiously between dodging past Arthur or spending a day in the stocks. Merlin sighed and moved resignedly toward the doors.
"Alright, then," he said in his most infuriatingly optimistic voice. "I suppose I'll see you at the banquet, then." He'd gotten almost entirely across the room when Arthur's hand shot out and caught his wrist, gripping it tightly. The servant paused.
"Arthur, look-"
The taller man tugged, and suddenly Arthur's lips were pressed against Merlin's, their teeth clacking harshly. The boy winced, but then his mouth was filled with Arthur's taste and Arthur's breath and his knees gave a little. But then arms moved to wrap around his waist and he didn't have to worry, because Arthur could hold him up. Merlin tangled his fingers in the Prince's hair and decided he didn't wantto go, Uther be damned, the stocks would be worth it just as long as he could keep kissing Arthur. Arthur, who hadn't done anything since his awkward confession and had Merlin feeling as though his head would explode if he had to keep waiting.
The boy sighed and pushed at Arthur's chest, parting from him gently. The Prince was panting and Merlin felt him tense. He could already hear the insecurities and apologies about to spill from Arthur's lips, so he held on when the Prince moved back, his arms locked firmly about Arthur's neck.
"I need to go," he whispered. "Uther will have us both flogged if I don't show up for that meeting."
"Nonsense, Merlin," murmured the blond. He trailed a hand through the smaller man's hair and kissed him again, lightly, just because he could. "You're far too simple to be held accountable for something like that."
"Oh, well, if it'd just be you then." Merlin grinned when the Prince untangled them to get a good shot at his head and took the opportunity to duck toward the door.
"I'll see you later, alright?" He undid the latch. "Don't worry, Arthur. I'll be fine." Merlin heard the blond sigh, but he ignored it and went reluctantly down to find the council room for what he was sure was going to be a much less entertaining meeting than anything he and Arthur could've done instead.
By the time the feast had rolled around, Merlin had thought through almost every single way he might've been able to magic himself back to Arthur's chambers. He concluded that bringing all the gargoyles in the courtyard to life would be a bit extreme for just a distraction, but filed the idea away for later use. Uther hadn't let the council leave the chambers until music was already starting in the banquet hall and more than one of the visiting delegation had been caught staring longingly toward the doors. All of the Knights and nobles stood respectfully as the King swept into the room, Merlin at his side. He spotted Arthur immediately at his seat at the long table, his blond head held high. The warlock shot him his best conspiratorial grin, but the Prince pointedly avoided his gaze, his eyes trained on Uther instead. Feeling rather disgruntled, Merlin looked around for Gwen, making a beeline for the girl as he noticed her standing dutifully behind Morgana. The sharp clearing of a throat made Merlin pause, and he turned to find Uther nodding for him to follow. Merlin trailed after the man reluctantly.
"I trust," said the King as they approached his seat, "that you will speak nothing of the negotiations you over heard this evening."
Merlin, who had been lost as soon as Uther had said "Welcome," nodded demurely.
"Of course not, my lord." Uther gave him a curt nod.
"Good. Because if you did, you would lose more than just your position in this household."
"Yes, my lord."
"Good. You may attend to the Prince."
"Of course, my lord." Uther eyed him suspiciously and Merlin shuffled quickly back towards the King's son.
Arthur's shoulders relaxed as the servant stepped up behind him, smiling kindly at his temporary replacement and taking the wine jug from the maidservant's hands. She gave him a light kiss on the cheek and moved quietly away to the other girls roaming behind the Knights' tables. She whispered something to her friends and gestured in Merlin's direction. The warlock caught her eye and grinned, sending the group into a fit of giggles. In front of him, Arthur was tense again.
"How was the meeting," he grit out, as quietly as he could. Merlin moved to refill his goblet and stayed close when he was done, his elbow touching the Prince's shoulder.
"Boring," Merlin told him. "I could barely stay awake. My legs certainly didn't manage it." As he spoke, he stole food from the Prince's plate and the blond seemed to deflate with every brush of Merlin's arm against his. He leaned back in his chair and sighed.
"You'd think a coronation was boring, Merlin," he said, sounding happier. Merlin rolled his eyes and smiled.
"Because you would've been enraptured," he retorted. Arthur scoffed. "Anyway, did you need anything else, sire?" Arthur waved him away.
"I'll call if I need you."
Merlin straightened and sidled up to Gwen, smiling and bumping the girl's shoulder. Guinevere gave him a bright smile and nudged him back before stepping forward to fill Morgana's cup. She laughed at something her Lady said and turned back to Merlin with a knowing glint in her eye. Merlin shifted nervously.
"So Arthur's finally let you loose, Merlin?" she asked cheekily. Merlin blushed.
"Not willingly," he admitted. "Uther borrowed me today because Richard is sick. I feel like I'm about ready to burst, though."
"Mmm," said Gwen. "He really has been keeping you to himself, then?" Merlin nodded emphatically.
"It's not even for my duties, Gwen," he whined. "I'm just with him all the time. He's started to discuss grain counts with me." Merlin gripped her shoulders. "Grain counts." The serving girl giggled and patted his arm sympathetically.
"Don't worry so much about it, Merlin," she said. "Maybe he's just finally noticed." The boy looked at her oddly.
"Wait, noticed what?"
"How much he wants you."
Merlin spluttered so loudly that the Prince in question turned to glare at him over his shoulder. Gwen waited until Arthur returned his attention to his food before continuing.
"Come on, Merlin," she whispered. "You can't tell me we're wrong."
"We're?"
"Merlin," she grinned. "That's it, isn't it?" Merlin's cheeks went red and he glared furiously at his friend.
"Gwen," he hissed. "We haven't—I don't—he just won't tell me anything!" Merlin threw up his hands. "He keeps me around all the time but he won't talk about why, and I don't want to ask because he's got a habit of throwing things at me and his aim is," Merlin rubbed at his head reflexively, "really good."
"Maybe he's jealous," said Gwen. Merlin blushed harder and scoffed.
"Jealous of what?" Gwen shrugged.
"I don't know, Merlin," she said. "But he has to have some reason to start keeping you close to him now." She nudged his arm. "Maybe he's just afraid of someone stealing you away."
Merlin's breath caught and he stared at the back of the Prince's chair. Arthur's hand moved and he waved Merlin lazily over. The warlock stepped forward, the wine jug suddenly heavy in his hands. He leaned close to fill the Prince's goblet and Arthur shouldered him, grinning.
"What's wrong, Merlin?" he asked. "You look about as red as that ridiculous neckerchief of yours." Merlin growled and willed his blush away. He had to try something.
"Will you be requiring my services tonight, sire?" he asked carefully. "I was hoping I could eat dinner with Gwen." He glanced at Arthur out of the corner of his eye. "I haven't been able to catch up with her in a while." Arthur's expression was closely guarded as he leaned back in his chair.
"You—you're friends," he said. Merlin fought desperately not to roll his eyes. He failed.
"Yes, sire." Arthur's frown deepened.
"You're not planning on telling her anything, are you?" he asked, his voice low and secretive so that only Merlin could hear. The brunet narrowed his eyes.
"I knew it," he hissed. "You're afraid that just because youknow I'm going to start telling everyone." Arthur looked so frightened at the notion that Merlin had to take a deep breath and remind himself that keeping his secret was new to the Prince.
"Look," he said, "I'm not going to stay with you every minute, Arthur. I'm going to go and spend the evening with my friends. Don't wait up."
But of course, he did.
Merlin returned from eating with Gwen and the kitchen staff well after the rest of the castle had gone to sleep. He was carrying a plate full of fruit, bread and sweetmeats, hoping they would serve as a piece offering to Arthur. Merlin opened the Prince's chambers as quietly as he could, but there was Arthur, seated at his table, glaring at the door. Merlin jumped when the doors swung shut behind him.
"Oh," he said. "Sire. You're still up." Merlin shuffled forward. "I brought some leftovers from dessert. I'm uh, sorry I snapped."
He put the plate carefully down in front of the Prince. Arthur simply looked at him. Merlin resisted the urge to roll his eyes. The Prince would throw his little fit and then be fine. They had a hunting trip planned for the next morning (that Merlin was going on. Again. For some reason), and the servant was rest assured that Arthur would force himself to go to bed soon enough to be well rested for the outing. Merlin swiped one of the sweets from the plate before moving to tidy up the blonde's room. He managed to throw the dirty clothes in a basket, turn down the bed and steal another bite of food before Arthur finally spoke.
"I'm cold, Merlin." The warlock jumped and guiltily swallowed the food in his mouth.
"Oh," he said. "Right. Well, just let me—"
"Light the fire, Merlin." The boy stared.
"Yes, thank you, sire," he said. "I had thought of doing that."
"No, Merlin." The servant paused on his way to the hearth, looking back at the Prince bemusedly. Arthur leaned forward.
"Light the fire."
There was something not unlike fear hidden in Arthur's eyes, and Merlin swallowed.
"Arthur—"
"Merlin—"
"Fine," Merlin snapped, and the fire was lit.
Arthur jumped a mile and Merlin rolled his eyes and resisted the urge to ask if the Prince had expected a blood sacrifice.
"What—how—you—Merlin," Arthur spluttered. "You didn't even lookat it!" Merlin couldn't help his snort.
"It's magic, Arthur," he said. "There's not much I can't do."
"There isn't?" His friend sounded anxious and afraid and Merlin thought a little before he answered.
"Not for me so much," he said, finally. "I'm sure there are rules I can't break, but to be honest, I won't know until I try." Merlin smiled sheepishly. "I'm not exactly…normal."
"Of course you're not," Arthur muttered. "Of course I'd find the only servant who's an abnormal sorcerer…"
"Anyway," Merlin continued, loudly. "I lit the fire. So, bed now?" He motioned toward the bed. "We do have that hunting trip tomorrow." Arthur nodded absently, watching the fire burn.
"Why don't you just use magic for everything?" he asked, rising to his feet. Merlin put out the candle on the side table.
"Besides the fact that the King would have my head?" said Merlin. "Just because I can do something with magic doesn't mean it's easier."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, like taking a trip." Merlin moved some stray scrolls from Arthur's bedside. "I'm sure I could find a spell that would let me just pop up anywhere I wanted, but it would take a lot of time and probably be really dangerous." The boy shrugged as Arthur slipped beneath the covers. "So instead of that, I just ride a horse."
Arthur nodded like he understood, but Merlin could still see the tension in his shoulders and the way he was determinedly avoiding the servant's eyes.
"Yes, well," he said. "Goodnight Merlin. Don't forget to wake me early for the trip."
"Yes, sire." Arthur rolled onto his side and Merlin shuffled quietly to the antechamber. "Goodnight."
He made to pull the door shut and paused, gripping the handle tightly.
"You can always ask, Arthur," he said quietly. "About anything. I'd never lie if you asked."
Merlin waited for a reply, but across the wide expanse of his room, the Prince simply shifted toward the still-glowing hearth.