Chapter 3
Merlin leaned against the balcony and stared out over the top of the castle. The sun was shining, the skies were blue and birds twittered in the distance. It was generally completely opposite to his own mood. Sort of like pathetic fallacy in reverse. Melancholy would be an apt word to describe him right now.
It was foolish, he knew. So what if Arthur was snogging someone else. Arthur didn't belong to him; he had no right to be upset over this. But he still couldn't help it. It was irrational yet he could help but feel angry every time he thought about Arthur and Lady Avilia, together.
In a fit of anger he kicked the stone pillar furiously and swore when he felt the stinging pain shooting up from his toe. He hated feeling this way, like he had some teenage crush on Arthur. More than anything, he hated Lady Avilia. But no, that wasn't right; he knew he didn't hate her, not really. He envied her even more, was jealous that she got to kiss Arthur when he wished more than anything that he could be in her place. And once he'd come to that conclusion, he was crushed by the intense sadness and disappointment that came with it.
He was Arthur's manservant, he was a warlock, and he was a man. Full stop.
He had no chance with Arthur, it was never going to happen and that hurt more than anything else. To know that he didn't even have a chance; that nothing could happen of this, it made his entire being hurt.
He blinked furiously and rubbed his eyes before anyone else came across him. He wheeled around when he heard footsteps from the other side. Another manservant was walking his way, Subian he thought it was. Merlin had gotten on relatively well with the laid-back but clumsy servant before.
Belatedly Merlin noticed that he was carrying Arthur's stuff. He must be the one replacing me, he thought. Merlin nodded at the boy as he walked past, but instead of smiling or nodding back as one would have expected, the servant stared at him, a mixture of puzzlement and confusion in his expression. Merlin watched him go, his eyebrows furrowed.
What had he done to warrant such a look? Actually, what had Arthur done? Merlin shook his head and wandered off. He didn't know where he was going, he just needed to walk.
Merlin stared at his feet as he walked, his hands thrust deep into his pocket. He let his mind wallow in his thoughts and allowed his feet to take him where they would. After what seemed like hours, but what was probably a lot less than that, he stopped walking and looked up. He groaned internally when he saw where he stood.
The door to Arthur's room was slightly ajar, candlelight streaming out through the gap. Merlin stepped closer and through the crack he could see Arthur, his back turned to him, looking out of the window with a goblet in his hand. There was a tenseness in his shoulders that showed he was nervous. Merlin hesitated outside the door, debating whether or not he should go in.
His mind was telling him that as Arthur's manservant and friend it was his duty to make sure that he was ready and prepared for the coronation. But his heart was telling him that he should be angry and upset, that he wanted…that he wanted to be more than just a friend.
Stepping back from the door, Merlin turned and left quickly, leaving Arthur to his thoughts.