Chapter Summary: The Plan™ implemented.
Warning/s: Slight reference to homophobia
Recap of Named Original Characters:
~ Lady Jayden: Edwin Muirden's mother. Implied second-in-rank in the sorcerers' court
~ Lord Dalion: Implied best shieldmaker in court. Implied third-in-rank in the sorcerers' court.
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Chapter XXIII: Presentation!
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Everyone notes the moment the queen's blue eyes narrow onto the crowned prince lounging by the window. Disapproval twists the moue of her mouth. Prince Arthur stares straight back at her, arms folded on his back and his expression a portrait of nonchalance.
Queen Ygraine chooses not to address him. Instead, she draws closer to Merlin's bed. Mordred and Morgana step out of the way to make room for the councillors half a step behind her.
An inexplicably pleased expression paints Agravaine's expression while a barely stifled scowl mars Tristan's.
"Nephew," Queen Ygraine begins with a hard glint in her eyes, making Merlin feel like an ant under a boot. "I am glad to see you well."
"I-I am recovering quite well, Your Majesty." Gods, he feels like he's facing Uther all over again. Merlin reminds himself that at least this monarch didn't massacre people of his kind. Besides, Merlin has faced the queen's scrutiny before and has survived it. "I am grateful you have taken the time to visit me." Merlin wets his lips and figures it's as good an opening as any. "But I am not your nephew, Your Majesty. Nor am I Lord Agravaine's son."
Queen Ygraine stills. "Oh?" Her tone indicates that he should be very careful of his next words.
Behind the queen, Agravaine's eyes widen. The lord likely never thought Merlin would directly go against his word in front of the queen. While Merlin is viciously happy to witness his bewilderment, he focuses his gaze back on Queen Ygraine.
"I-I was merely going along with Lord Agravaine's prank." He lifts his head, daring to meet the queen's eyes to show his sincerity. "I just didn't want to bring trouble to the person who bestowed the sigil upon me. I had no idea the prank would go this far and that it would bring trouble to my friend nonetheless."
In a calculated move, his eyes flick to the figure by the window.
Queen Ygraine's sharp gaze snaps to her son. Soft murmurs ripple from the councillors. Tristan and Agravaine stare at their nephew, interests thoroughly piqued.
Unhidden astonishment colors Morgana's and Mordred's features, and they clearly desire to hear more of the story.
Balinor closes his eyes, lowers his head, and pinches the bridge of his nose.
Prince Arthur takes the sudden attention with poise, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the windowsill. Merlin uselessly fusses with his blanket, nervous enough for both of them.
When Merlin initially thought of this plan, doubts filled him. Even now, he's wondering if it's a good idea at all. However, no one else in this realm could have possibly given him the brooch. As long as Prince Arthur agrees to pose as the bestower, Merlin can cut off Agravaine's scheme.
"You gave him the sigil?" Reasonable doubt drips in Queen Ygraine's voice.
"Am I not a De Bois too, Your Majesty?" is Prince Arthur's cool response. "If I wish to give a De Bois sigil to someone, am I not allowed to?"
"I never told you the specifications," the queen says, head tilting to the side. The gesture reminds Merlin of a predator slowly prowling towards prey.
"You didn't have to tell me, Mother." The title sounds more like a challenge than an endearment. "I figured it out for myself."
Merlin glances between them with furrowed brows, unable to believe this is an interaction between mother and son.
Prince Arthur drops his hands to his sides and approaches the queen. Queen Ygraine lets him whisper the secret specifications of De Bois sigils.
Merlin is lucky Prince Arthur already knows of it. If not, they would have claimed that Merlin's sigil is an exact imitation of Queen Ygraine's, done so by the warlock's magic.
The queen's eyes widen a fraction as Prince Arthur steps back, the reaction confirming the authenticity of the information.
Her gaze sweeps over to Merlin once more before returning to the prince. "When and where exactly did you meet Merlin?" Her eyes narrow. "You've never once indicated you knew each other before."
"When we went on a campaign in the villages near the borders a couple of years back." Prince Arthur strides back to his spot by the windowsill as he speaks. "Merlin was travelling between those villages too."
Queen Ygraine arches a blonde brow. "You barely left my side. And I believe I would have noticed someone often accompanying my son." Here, the queen sends Merlin a cool look. Merlin does not shrink under her gaze, having been the recipient of much more intimidating ones, but it is a near thing.
"You were, of course, quite busy at those times, Your Majesty," Prince Arthur reasons. "And as you already know, I had an impersonation totem to disguise myself." His voice holds a note of contrition that Merlin doesn't think is genuine. "That is why we pretended not to know each other; you'll ask how and where. At those campaigns, I snuck away sometimes. To mingle with the commoners and see the people I will someday rule over." Prince Arthur arches a brow, and there's a challenge in the gesture. "I never wanted you to find out, Mother. You worry far too much."
The prince has admitted the truth of his sneaking around to Merlin himself the night before, adding a grain of truth to their lies. Merlin's not too surprised by it; he knows royalty sometimes has the tendency to skulk around and pretend to have peasant lives. Merlin already knows those of royal birth sometimes have very odd ideas.
Furthermore, Prince Arthur himself has recently snuck out of the castle twice. Although, the revelation visibly impresses the councillors and Tristan. Agravaine's brows have practically glued themselves to his hairline.
Queen Ygraine, however, looks thoroughly unconvinced. "Those campaigns lasted two weeks at most. Do you mean to tell me you had a sigil made for this boy after knowing him for such a short period of time?"
Merlin decides to insert himself once more into the conversation. "We met at a rundown tavern, Your Majesty." Everyone's gazes whip to him but he keeps his eyes on the imperious form of the queen. "There was a bar fight. He, uh, got involved in it."
"I got a little injured," Prince Arthur adds. Concern touches Queen Ygraine's features. "Merlin saved me from further maiming and tended to my wounds. He tended to them so well that no one in our entourage even noticed I was injured in the first place."
Merlin has adopted the memory of how he met Gwaine when he suggested this scenario to the prince. Back then, Arthur had pretended to be a commoner as well, so the story fit right in with their storytelling needs.
"I didn't even know he was a prince because of the disguise, Your Majesty," Merlin says. Just like how Merlin didn't know Gwaine was of nobility until after the man woke up. "I just wanted to help, and the prince rewarded my efforts."
"Then why not give him coin?" Queen Ygraine asks of the prince, still as dubious.
Drat, why is she difficult to convince? The councillors behind her seem to be taking in the story completely. A poignant expression even paints itself across Lady Jayden's face, showing clear amazement at the whole thing.
Agravaine, however, appears dangerously thoughtful.
The queen turns to Merlin, her gaze is less wintery this time. "Make no mistake, Merlin. I am very thankful that you have saved my son not only recently but even back then." Her astute eyes return to Prince Arthur. "But people have saved your life before. Not just knights — there were a commoner or two. We poured coins into their hands and never called for them again. Why take the effort to have a sigil made and give it to Merlin?"
And that's a very good point. Additionally, it's a point that never crossed Merlin's mind. Of course, saving Prince Arthur's life isn't enough to earn a family crest. Panic swiftly swirls in Merlin's chest.
Prince Arthur steadily meets his mother's eyes, quiet and still.
Merlin scrambles to fill in the damning silence. "W-We became good friends, Your Majesty. The prince gave me the sigil not only because I saved his life —"
"Merlin." An unvoiced command hints at Prince Arthur's tone. By instinct, the warlock ceases speaking, instantly heeding it.
Anticipation rises in the air, bubbling and readying to burst. With bated breath, all attention is turned to the prince and queen locked in a tense standoff.
Then, the prince lets a sigh so heavy and dramatic that Merlin worries he may have collapsed his lungs. The action pops the tension in the atmosphere.
"Merlin, I think it's time to spill the complete truth," Prince Arthur says, sending the warlock a pitying and helpless glance.
Merlin's heart drops to his stomach. No, no, no. Why is Prince Arthur giving up? They should keep pushing, keep insisting on their story! "Y-Your Highness, w-wait . . ."
Has this been the prince's plan after all — to lure Merlin into thinking he has agreed to the plan and then let the warlock shatter against the consequences of their lies? Inexplicable betrayal stabs Merlin at the base of his spine. Perhaps he has no right to feel it, but he thought —
"Merlin and I were lovers," Prince Arthur proclaims without an ounce of hesitation or shame.
What.
What?
Merlin stares at the prince with unbridled horror.
Queen Ygraine breathes out, vindication rippling through her demeanor. "As I thought."
Merlin's head snaps to her, his eyes as wide as saucers. As you thought!? What on earth!?
Two of the councillors and Tristan gasp in shock. Lady Jayden covers a gigantic and open-mouthed grin behind a delicate hand. Lord Dalion smirks.
Mordred and Morgana exchange wide-eyed looks before utmost delight color their features. Balinor has taken to massaging his temples and keeping his gaze away from the chaos whipping across the whole quarters.
And Agravaine —
Agravaine looks positively gleeful. Not furious that his plan has been foiled. Not frightened by the turn of events. He looks utterly overjoyed by everything.
The lord's dark eyes swivel to meet Prince Arthur's. Shock numbs Merlin's whole body at what he witnesses next.
Prince Arthur sends his uncle a meaningful but subtle wink. Agravaine almost cackles in response but successfully stifles it with his hand.
A chilling and impossible thought occurs to Merlin then.
Prince Arthur is in on Agravaine's prank.
But no, that doesn't make sense. Prince Arthur is the target of Agravaine's scheme. Besides, the solemn and uptight Prince Arthur involving himself in a prank is too far-fetched to consider.
Yet why does it feel like the two of them are conspiring right now?
Prince Arthur continues with a note of nostalgia in his plummy little voice. "I was very young. We both were." Here, the prince adopts a helpless smile barely visible to anyone looking. "After he saved my life, I was already half-in-love, I think."
Oh gods, stop talking. It would have been better if the prince had actually stabbed him in the back.
Merlin attempts to cease the farce. "That's not—"
"Merlin, there's no use denying it," the prince interrupts with a sigh. "My mother already suspects it."
Merlin swallows the scream threatening to erupt from his throat. He is torn between his desire to stop this terrible nonsense and his wish to keep his head between his shoulders. Judging by the way the queen is nodding along to Prince Arthur's words, she may actually behead Merlin should he begin denying all of this.
Prince Arthur glances Merlin's way. The warlock can do little but stare back with a gaping mouth and aghast eyes. The fake fondness the prince directs at him causes actual gooseflesh to pepper the warlock's skin.
"I commissioned the sigil just a week after we met." A tint of abashment paints Prince Arthur's cheeks, even as his expression remains mostly blank. Prince Arthur can blush at will. "Impulsive of me, I know. But with Merlin, that week felt like the best week of my life."
"How romantic," Morgana murmurs, jade eyes sparkling with an emotion Merlin cares not to interpret.
Oh, that's it. Merlin nods to himself, disassociating from the situation. He must have fallen asleep at some point. Heavens above, please let it all be a dream. A nightmare that Merlin will wake up from.
Prince Arthur sighs once more, tearing his gaze away from his alleged former lover. "I came to my senses shortly after. I was betrothed to Princess Clarisse. Even if I wasn't, I will never be allowed to marry a commoner."
Merlin splutters. Marry!?
"So, I left and tried to forget about him." Prince Arthur locks gazes with the queen once more, trying and failing to hide fake guilt. "Merlin lied. He didn't know I was a prince back then. I left the sigil and a note that explained nothing. When he came here, he recognized my voice and realized the actual value of the sigil. And still, I pushed him away, pretending I had no idea who he was. He lied again, going along with Uncle's prank to protect my secrets."
Prince Arthur leans further into the windowsill, shoulders straightening as if preparing for battle. "But the truth of our romance cannot forever be kept a secret. We'll hide it no longer, Mother. From you and from the court. Isn't that right, Merlin?"
With gritted teeth and a subtle glare, the warlock says, "Your Highness, I don't think the queen wishes to hear any of this."
Confusion flickers through Prince Arthur's eyes, a break in the awful character he's playing. But the prince rallies and adds with a solemn nod, "Perhaps. But she needs to hear it all the same."
Merlin resists the urge to bury his face into a pillow and scream into it.
"Your Highness." One of the councillors, a graying middle-aged woman with a hook nose and sharp chin, clears her throat. Uncertainty colors her countenance. "While this is all very reasonable, Lord Agravaine has given us blood-proof that Pr — Merlin is his son."
To that, Prince Arthur's gaze meaningfully turns to Agravaine himself. He arches a brow at the lord.
Agravaine chuckles. "I stole hairs from Arthur and dyed it black. I gave that and my own locks for the mages to test."
The councillors shake their heads at the revealed antics of their resident prankster.
Tristan shoots his brother a scowl. "I knew he looked nothing like you."
"Ah, ah." Agravaine points at Tristan with a grin, unrepentant. "But you still fell for it."
Merlin numbly watches it all unfold, not sure of anything anymore.
"Leave the three of us." Queen Ygraine's command pierces through the humor building up in the room.
After a beat, the councillors, Tristan, and Agravaine head out of the chambers. Agravaine winks at Merlin, and the glare he receives in response could curdle milk. Morgana and Mordred follow a mere step behind. Before going out of sight, however, the two of them send Merlin encouraging smiles tinted with an unnecessary amount of glee. Merlin winces back at them.
When the Court Sorcerer remains rooted at his spot, Queen Ygraine shifts to him and arches an imperious brow. Balinor returns her stare a moment longer, his actions almost bordering on treason. Then, he lets out a breath and leaves the room with the others.
He bestows Merlin and Prince Arthur a look filled with exasperation before exiting.
Merlin wishes he had the choice to leave too.
Queen Ygraine, Prince Arthur, and Merlin bask in awkward silence for a long minute.
"Is it true?" The queen is the first to speak, and her question is for the apprentice lying on the bed. "Did my son truly give you that crest?"
Merlin gulps audibly under her scrutiny, fingers coming up to trace the embossment of the sigil beneath his tunic. They have come this far, even though Merlin has no idea how. The tale Prince Arthur spun is mind-numbingly ridiculous, and Merlin knows not why everyone seems to believe it.
For the first time in this confrontation, he utters nothing but the truth. "Yes, Your Majesty. Arthur Pendragon gave me this sigil."
Hysterical laughter bubbles in his throat. Thankfully, the queen's narrow-eyed perusal disperses it.
From the corner of his eye, Merlin sees Prince Arthur's eyes widening a fraction in astonishment. Astonishment at what, Merlin knows not.
"I see." Queen Ygraine nods.
Then, to Merlin's bemusement and slight horror, her entire demeanor softens.
She turns to her son with lips upturned in a small smile. "So, he is why you've never shown interest to anyone before."
Prince Arthur shrugs and doesn't verbally deny it. A part of Merlin has been hoping he does deny it, even if it would render their efforts void.
"You're right; I would have never allowed you to marry a commoner." Something in the prince's eyes hardened at the words. The queen's gaze flicks to Merlin, thoughtful. "But I've told you before, a magic-user of high caliber is a different matter entirely."
Merlin's jaw drops to the floor. It sounds a lot like Queen Ygraine is giving her approval. But that can't be. Merlin must be hearing things wrong.
Prince Arthur crosses his arms over his chest and lifts a brow. "And I've told you, Mother, there was nothing romantic between Lily and I."
Merlin turns to the prince with wide eyes, unable to wrap his head around the possibility of that romance even existing. At the very least, however, that assumption has grounds; Lily was a woman.
Merlin is decidedly not. Apparently, that isn't even the slightest concern for Queen Ygraine, Prince Arthur, or any of the councillors. Merlin is still reeling from that, amongst other things.
"I believe that now," Queen Ygraine replies, sounding less and less like a queen and more of a mother doting on her son.
Prince Arthur sends her a wry look.
Out of the councillors' eyes, their interactions appear less like battles to be won.
The queen draws closer to the bed, to Merlin, the glint in her eyes now that of casual curiosity instead of harsh scrutiny. Merlin's back straightens in trepidation of her approach, nonetheless.
"You are an interesting man indeed, Merlin," the queen says. "I thought you dangerous when an enemy of Camelot targeted you. I see now that they perhaps knew something I didn't. That perhaps they knew how important you were to my son."
"P-Perhaps, Your Majesty." What is Merlin supposed to say at this point?
Behind the queen, Prince Arthur bristles, and his jaw clenches tight. Merlin, despite the awful story the prince has told in the past few minutes, sends him a concerned glance.
Suddenly, delicate fingers grasp Merlin's chin and force him to look up into Queen Ygraine's too-close face.
"You don't look anything like Agravaine at all, but I had assumed you inherited your appearance from your mother," the queen muses out loud.
Then, a tiny furrow pinches her brow, and she moves Merlin's head from one side to another. Merlin dares not protest.
"At a certain angle, however . . . You resemble your mentor greatly."
Prince Arthur and Merlin tense.
"One would mistake you for his . . ." An unidentifiable glimmer flashes behind the queen's gaze and her eyes widen a fraction. The warlock holds his breath, heartbeat stuttering. Then, she subtly shakes her head, face slipping on a nonchalant mask so reminiscent of Prince Arthur's. "If Balinor didn't prefer the company of men, that is."
Shock electrifies Merlin's whole being. After a glance at Prince Arthur, Merlin sees the prince just as stupefied as he is.
Is Merlin's assumption wrong? Is Lily not Balinor's daughter? Has a counterpart of him in this realm never existed after all?
Can he actually tell his mentor the truth?
Merlin feels lightheaded, experiencing enough surprise in the past half an hour to last two full lifetimes.
Queen Ygraine withdraws her fingers from Merlin's chin and steps back. "Well, I am truly glad you are well, Merlin." She glances between him and the prince. "Do either of you wish to rekindle your relations?"
Merlin splutters. "R-Rest assured, Your Majesty, that part of our lives is well and truly over with."
The queen's gaze rests on her son. Prince Arthur does nothing to confirm Merlin's words, and Merlin wants to kick him a little bit.
"I have no qualms either way," Queen Ygraine informs them. She gives Prince Arthur a pointed look. "Provided a formal and public offer of courtship is given and accepted this time."
Prince Arthur smiles like an obedient little son, guileless and disarming. "Of course, Mother."
Queen Ygraine nods at them both, giving Merlin one last lingering glance. Merlin attempts a smile that hopefully doesn't look like a grimace. Then, the queen strides out of the room and takes her leave. Before the door closes behind her, Merlin sees her councillors, including Balinor, approaching to speak with her.
As soon as the door fully shuts, Merlin turns to Prince Arthur with a smile so saccharine it's almost poisonous. "It's a good thing the assassin didn't manage to off you." His smile drops, replaced by an outraged glower. "Because now I have the chance to do it myself. Come here and let me strangle you."
"Such violence towards your former lover. Is this why we parted ways?" Instead of complying, Prince Arthur heads for the dining table and pours himself a goblet of water.
"I'm going to learn a spell on how to make you bald, and you'll never grow hair again," Merlin seethes.
"Do you reckon a prince's fallen golden locks will fetch a hefty price?" Prince Arthur muses before taking a sip of water.
"I'm going to make your eyebrows fall off, you bloody dollophead!"
"Why are you angry at me?" Prince Arthur asks, raising the aforementioned brows. He finishes his water and sets the goblet down. "It was a brilliant improvisation. The queen is thoroughly convinced by our act." Prince Arthur grabs one of the leftover sliced bread from lunch and takes a bite out of it. "You even went along with it, acting horrified that our secret forbidden relationship was being revealed."
"Brilliant?" Merlin points an accusing finger at the prince. "I did all this so Agravaine's schemes would cease tarnishing your name. And then you did all the tarnishing yourself! And I wasn't acting— I was really horrified at the things you were implying!"
Prince Arthur pauses. His blue eyes flick down to Merlin's chest and then glide slowly up to the warlock's face. He swallows his food before saying with a frown, "Merlin, you're not bad-looking enough to tarnish my reputation."
Merlin has never understood Arthur's penchant to throw things whenever the king's temper rises. Now, however, the warlock understands it completely.
"Were you in on Agravaine's prank?" Merlin demands, valiantly fighting down the violent urge. "I saw you wink at him!"
"No," Prince Arthur answers. Contemplation briefly gleams in the prince's gaze. After a moment of dithering, he says, "Not exactly."
Merlin allows his puzzlement and disbelief to show. "What does that mean?"
Prince Arthur swallows another bite of his bread. His voice, when he speaks, holds a note of hardness. "Some people in court hide their agendas and beliefs a little too well. Sometimes, whenever a new individual is added to the council, I need a way to ascertain their true motivations. Will they turn on me once they find out another possible heir exists? What will they say behind my back? My limp and the queen's overly cautious methods tend to attract certain ideas."
Prince Arthur tilts his head to the side, nonchalant as if he's not speaking of possible malicious schemes against him. "I tell my Uncle what I need and he plans it however he wishes. I've no clue who he'll involve or how he'll go about it, only that it'll allow me to test the councillors' loyalties."
The remarks hit Merlin like a fallen brick. "He's your spy."
Prince Arthur shrugs. "Of a sort. Uncle Agravaine does it mostly because he loves to needle his siblings. He told me he never expected them to grow into such uptight individuals." The prince steadily meets the warlock's eyes, a sober glint present in his gaze. "I ask you to keep this information a secret, even from your mentor."
Merlin startles. "Even Lord Balinor doesn't know? Why?" Then, the answer to that question slams into him. "You're testing him too."
"Balinor will never betray me," Prince Arthur says with unbreakable conviction. "But he cares for me. Sometimes, such sentiment is enough for someone to, unintentionally or not, undermine me in court. I need to know how he will defend me against potential political adversaries."
Merlin absorbs the information with disbelief. "And how are you sure Agravaine's actions truly won't hurt your standing in court?"
Prince Arthur cocks a brow. "My power in court is not so weak as to crumble against baseless rumors, Merlin."
"Then what did I do all this for!?" the warlock cries out and flops flat on the bed.
Prince Arthur polishes off the last bit of his bread, unmoved by Merlin's hysterics. "I told you my Uncle's only pranking the court. He even went to visit you last night to tell you he's planning the most hilarious revelation of the truth soon. But he told me Balinor kicked him out." He releases a huff that hints at amusement. "It's too bad we won't get to see it now."
"I bloody hate you," Merlin tells him. He lifts his head so he can scowl at the prince. "Why are you telling me all this now when you didn't before?"
A solemn expression grips Prince Arthur's features. "I wonder," he replies in an all too casual tone. "Perhaps I'm hoping for some honesty in return. Perhaps I'm hoping I won't be told some invented story once more."
Immediately, Merlin feels like an absolute villain. Then, another moment later, he feels absolutely manipulated.
"You're a complete prat, did you know that?" the warlock says monotonously.
Before the prince can reply, the door opens, and Balinor storms in. His mentor promptly throws out a spell that engulfs the whole room. An anti-eavesdropping spell, Merlin would later identify.
"You two are absolutely mad," Balinor says. Then, a begrudgingly impressed expression flits by his face. "And utterly clever, I admit."
Merlin blinks rapidly. "Clever? Arth — This clodpole just admitted he had relations with a man in front of his own mother and the councillors." For no reason whatsoever, Merlin would like to add.
Prince Arthur could have waited for Agravaine's promised revelation. He could have agreed not to proceed with the warlock's plan. The prince could have done a myriad of other things and yet, here they are — the court spreading rumors about Prince Arthur's questionable relations.
Although, if Agravaine really planned to reveal the truth, Merlin would have been scrambling to provide another source of the crest. The queen would have asked where he truly got the sigil, and he could have provided no viable answer.
The twin looks of astonishment Merlin received pull him out of his thoughts.
"Ah." Realization alights in Prince Arthur's eyes. "I did wonder why you insisted on the 'friendship' plan instead of a 'lovers' one when the latter is more effective and believable." With that, he fetches another slice from the plate.
Balinor slaps his hand and makes him drop the bread. "You haven't eaten a proper lunch."
"You haven't either," Prince Arthur shoots back. He does, however, grab a plate and load it up with meaty dishes instead of bread.
"How is being lovers more believable?" Merlin asks, trying not to scowl at them both for taking this so lightly.
"Merlin," Balinor speaks his name slowly, his tone careful. "Perhaps there are different beliefs in the village you grew up in. But here in Camelot, especially in the citadel, relations between the same genders are not generally discouraged. I know that not all places are as understanding." His face is blank, belying no emotions at all. "Whatever judgments you have on the matter will be best kept to yourself."
Of course, Merlin has concluded that for himself. Princess Clarisse loudly and proudly declaring her engagement with Princess Vivien has clued him in. This realm clearly views such relationships differently. Witnessing Prince Arthur declares it himself, however, without a bit of trepidation for the consequences, has still been quite a shock.
"I—I have no judgments on that," the warlock stutters out, afraid that Balinor may think Merlin is judging him, given what the queen said about Balinor's preferences. "Only, I thought many in the court would."
Now that Merlin thinks back on it, none of the councillors have reacted with disgust. They seem surprised and intrigued, but not revolted at the fact that their prince admitted to being with a man. Merlin has been too frenzied to take note of it.
"Still . . . is there really no other way?" Merlin would prefer people not link him and a counterpart of his best friend in a romantic manner. "And how could the court believe this cold dollophead has a single romantic bone in his body?"
"You are surprisingly free with your insults nowadays, Merlin." Prince Arthur doesn't appear irritated by it, but he does look unamused.
"I saved your life. I think that gives me the right to insult you once in a while," the warlock replies without missing a beat.
"A family crest is sacred and rarely given out to those not of the same blood," Balinor interjects before the bickering could devolve. "Yes, they can be given to trusted friends but only after years of said friends proving their loyalty. How do you expect the queen and her councillors to believe that Arthur would give it to just any friend after days of knowing them?"
Especially since earning Prince Arthur's trust is no small feat, Merlin adds in his head.
The prince points out, "The passionate impulsive infatuation for a lover, however, is another matter entirely." His lips quirk in a small smile. "My mother, especially, will be taken in by it. She's been keen to see me enter a happy courtship."
Merlin narrows his eyes at the prince. "And why didn't you bring this up last night when we were discussing the plan?"
Prince Arthur seats himself and begins his lunch. "I mentioned your plan was possibly ineffective," the prince says. "But you insisted on going through with it anyway."
Merlin throws his hands up, giving up. Insufferable prat.
"Don't move around too much," Balinor scolds lightly.
Merlin runs a hand through his hair and sighs. "And you're sure this fake past romance between us isn't going to damage your reputation in court in any way?"
Prince Arthur hums before replying, "Truthfully, I went through with it for my own sake."
The Court Sorcerer gives the prince a knowing look. "With your engagement with Princess Clarisse broken off, you'll be flocked with offers of marriage."
A smirk hints at the prince's lips. "But with confirmation of me being in a relationship with a powerful magic-user and an apprentice of the Court Sorcerer himself, such offers will decrease drastically. Very few people could offer better."
"Should I be thanking you for the compliment?" Merlin asks with a flat tone.
"If you'd like," Prince Arthur quips. "I need not remind you that this improvised plan of mine veered off suspicion from the real giver of your sigil. This alleged relationship benefits us both."
Merlin can say nothing in protest to the truth of that. That doesn't mean he's at all pleased by it.
"I'd rather keep this 'relationship' firmly in the past," the warlock insists.
"We'll keep it ambiguous," is the prince's compromise.
Before Merlin can negotiate further, Morgana and Mordred enter the chamber after a knock. Between, they carry a total of four tomes, having been sent on a quick errand by their mentor.
Balinor promptly dispels the anti-eavesdropping spell. "Thank you for fetching the books."
After their arrival, no more talk of the fake relationship ensues.
Balinor begins the afternoon lessons before Morgana and Mordred can even catch their breaths. He discusses the contents of their previous readings and outlines the contents of their next ones.
Prince Arthur departs from the chamber after he finishes his lunch, throwing a meaningful look at Merlin on his way out. The look sends an anxious twang across Merlin's limbs. He sets it aside, knowing that is a problem for another time. He wishes to focus on the first apprentice lesson he has had for quite a while.
Although Balinor has demoted him to a mere listener, he enjoys it all the same. While Morgana and Mordred try out the enchantments depicted in the books, Merlin can only watch them perform complex spells with envy.
Hours later, when the lesson comes to a close and their mentor is called away by a harried servant, Mordred and Morgana pounce.
"I knew it." Glee paints every inch of Morgana's demeanor, her eyes bright and lips pulled into a wide grin.
Merlin shows his annoyance with a scowl. "No, you didn't." Because there's nothing to know.
"You recognized the prince's disguise at a glance." Morgana lifts an index finger, beginning a list with a playful smirk. "You dared him to muck the stables. You speak to him without titles."
"You banter with him so familiarly," Mordred adds with a mock guileless smile.
A groan escapes from Merlin's lips. "You both read too much into my actions." Now, Merlin is afraid they're not the only ones who will do so.
After a thoughtful pause, Morgana bestows the warlock an uncharacteristically serious look. "Merlin, know that while Arthur is almost a cousin to me, if he breaks your heart again, I have a couple of spells at my disposal that will make him regret it."
Mordred's responding chortle is mirthful and unrestrained. "I'm quite sure Merlin can make the prince regret it himself."
Morgana smiles. "True enough." To Merlin, she remarks lightly. "It appears that the Prince Merlin title will be accurate soon enough."
Merlin rubs his face and sighs. Can he never know peace in this realm?
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A figure cloaked in earth-colored robes glides through the dimly lit hallways of the castle, footfalls indubitably swift and impossibly quiet. Topaz eyes gleam in the darkness, darting left and right, as a pale hand pulls the hood tighter over a mop of crimson hair.
The night is deep and dark, the waning moon shifting overlapping shadows. The castle bathes in silence, only a rare servant or a guard loitering its crevasses.
The figure halts in front of an ornate door. The guards have long been dismissed by the occupant of the room, solely for this covert meeting. A pale hand knocks.
The chamber's owner bids him to enter. He does so without hesitation.
Queen Ygraine Pendragon, seated on a well-crafted desk and surrounded by piles of parchments, glances up. "Spymaster."
The Spymaster bows shallowly. "My queen. You called for me?"
The queen's eyes slide back down to her documents. She jots down a few notes and approves an increase in tariff for Tir Mor merchants.
The Spymaster patiently waits, knowing the queen is gathering her thoughts. The nervousness eating away at him also forestalls any prompting. This is the first meeting he has had with Queen Ygraine after the assassination attempt on her son. While the Spymaster has pinpointed Jaren as Tir Mor's spy all along, he has failed to suss out that a dagger bespelled with Forrotian Cwealm is in the spy's possession. Some blame may yet lie on him, and he's not looking forward to the potential punishment.
He couldn't even enjoy a tankard of ale, too anxious for this meeting.
Queen Ygraine sets down her quill and turns to the Spymaster once more. The Spymaster forces himself not to tense. Steepling her fingers together, she asks with a curious lilt, "How old is Merlin of Ealdor?"
The question astonishes the Spymaster, but he does not show it, nor does he display his relief. "Twenty-four winters, Your Majesty."
"Twenty-four . . ." The queen's eyes glaze over, drifting in contemplation. After a moment, she visibly brings herself back to the present. "I've a task for you, Spymaster. Not too urgent but one that must be done in utmost secrecy. You will do it yourself and will not delegate it to any of your men."
"I am at your service, my queen," the Spymaster recites.
Her gaze hardens, darkened blue eyes piercing through the Spymaster. "Whatever information you gather about it must go straight to me. No one but me shall know of it. Not my First Advisor, not the Court Sorcerer, not the Crowned Prince."
In the three years of being Spymaster, it is the first time he has received such a command. Queen Ygraine doesn't wish to monopolize information. Even the Spymaster's predecessor has told him of the queen's predilection to share knowledge freely among her trusted and consider their opinions.
The Spymaster again hides his surprise and declares, "As you wish, Your Majesty."
Queen Ygraine gauges the sincerity of his words, her stare sharp and unforgiving. After several tense seconds, she gives a curt nod. The Spymaster releases a breath.
The queen rises from her seat, her movements graceful and careful. Soft moonlight paints her features in cold tones as she faces the window and sets her gaze on the night sky.
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Ygraine's gaze then drifts to the bustling activities in the markets below. Her attention, however, is stolen by the memories in her mind's eye.
— Eyes the color of stormy skies, belying the steel beneath her soft demeanor. Those same eyes look up at the queen with unrestrained bewilderment and a spark of fury that has yet to ignite —
— That same shade of blue stares up at the queen from the guileless face of Merlin of Ealdor —
She is overthinking things, she hopes.
As the queen of an enormous kingdom, Ygraine has made plenty of blunders over the years. Some lapses were minor while others nearly plunged them into ruin. A couple of errors lost her allies while other missteps fortuitously gained her some.
This one particular mistake, however, cannot be dragged into the light of day. Her court may just crumble before her very eyes if that happens.
Especially if her mistake has caused a child to grow up fatherless.
When she speaks, her voice is as cool as ice. "Find out the current whereabouts of Hunith of Camelot, unofficially banished from the kingdom approximately twenty-five years ago."
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Unofficial banishment.
A type of banishment meant to be unrecorded in the kingdom's books. It is a covert punishment, induced only by the current monarch and witnessed by very few. Even the culprit cannot speak of their banished status to anyone lest they face immediate death. Given such, the banishment has a lax implementation. The punished may opt to stay in the kingdom without consequence, if they're capable enough to hide from the eyes of those who know they are banished. Furthermore, once no witnesses remain in the kingdom and no one can testify to the punishment, the banishment is as good as lifted.
Unofficial banishment is, more often than not, used against maidens bearing bastard children of nobles and royals. No ruler desires to parade scandals by pushing for official banishment. It's better to quietly sweep away such loose ends.
Of course, more permanent solutions are used more prominently across the Five Kingdoms — accidental deaths, inexplicable miscarriages, unexplained disappearances. The infliction of unofficial banishment is seen as a rare form of mercy.
The Spymaster gathers all this information within a split-second and maps out potential locations for this Hunith of Camelot. This woman cannot have borne King Uther's child, the Spymaster thinks. The time period doesn't line up. The Spymaster, however, doesn't completely discard the possibility.
The Spymaster also doesn't overlook the fact that the queen has inquired about Merlin of Ealdor's age.
"Who are the witnesses to this banishment, Your Majesty?" Unofficial banishments require the reigning monarch and at least two other people to affirm the penalty.
When displeasure thins the queen's lips, the Spymaster hurriedly adds, "It will make my search easier and quicker to know, my queen. But if you think it unnecessary, I shall ask no longer."
Queen Ygraine taps her index finger on the windowsill. After a moment of pondering, she says, "Tristan De Bois and Gaius Blaise. She was Gaius' apprentice before her banishment."
The Spymaster mentally notes down the names. Sometimes, the banished secretly seek help from the witnesses, the only knowers of their plight.
"Very well, Your Majesty." The Spymaster regrets not taking at least two gulps of ale before this meeting. This task has added too much to his already existing work, especially since he'll be overseeing this personally. He wisely keeps his complaints behind closed lips. "I shall update you of my findings as soon as I can."
"No one but me shall hear of this," Queen Ygraine repeats, a chilling undercurrent of unmistakable threat in her voice. "Take special care not to let the Court Sorcerer get wind of this."
Lord Balinor especially must not know? Another portrait paints itself in his mind's eye.
The Spymaster's loyalty must always be with the currently reigning monarch, no matter what. His predecessor has repeatedly hammered that lesson into him. A divided loyalty is a crack in their defense that enemies can and will take advantage of.
Lord Balinor, however, is sort of a friend. Before now, the Spymaster never had to choose between his duty and his friends.
But choose he must.
"Of course, Your Majesty," the Spymaster vows, bowing his head.
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A/N:
"You're a villain all right, just not a super one / Oh yeah, what's the difference? / Presentation!" – Megamind / Tighten, Megamind (2010)
Thank you so much RainandBlankets and Rubi for the kofis and for your kind words! You guys are too generous!
Hehe, see what I did there. Uther drove Balinor away in OG!Camelot and now . . . Is this a plot twist? Not really enough foreshadowing for that lmao.
I know, I know, Gaius' actor said, in an interview, that Hunith was Gaius' sister. But that wasn't said in canon so I'll disregard it lol. This story is one whole disregard of canon anyway. What's one more? ;)
I have not written a single word of the next chapter. Y'all know what that means T^T.
Next up: "Asking to meet in the middle of the night? How very forward of you, Merlin." "I might actually kill you one of these days."
I hope everyone is staying safe and eating greens occasionally!
~ Vividpast