A/N: Thank you for your wonderful reviews! You've been a big help and very supportive! I've made a minor change to the previous chapter concerning the amulet on Alia Inverse's remark. Thank you AI! Okay, enough talk. On with it. I rewrote this a gazillion times. I had it written from Arthur's POV at first but that made Merlin look far too much a victim. So this is how it turned out in the end. I'm pretty happy with it. Hope you are too! Enjoy.

Chapter 6

Having spent part of his morning running back and forth between the battlements and the citadel on Arthur's command -in order to get these bodies properly taken care of- meant Merlin hadn't been able to do any of his usual chores. So before going to Gaius, first thing to do was clean up the prince's chambers. At least that would keep his mind from his churning stomach. From what Tagan told him, he figured his nausea was a result of the crystal reflecting his own magic back to him. clenching the amulet between his fingers, he fought the urge to rip the thing from his neck. After all, who was going to notice while he was in Arthur's rooms? He shook his head and let go. Gaius would have his head. He couldn't risk exposure like that. For now, the only relief he was going to get from feeling sick was in the safety of his own room.

Another thought occurred to him. He had enough control to not let his magic fly during the night, which is why he felt perfectly safe sleeping in the company of others, but that didn't mean his powers didn't stir while he slept. His heart sank. Even if he could find a way to keep his own amulet from detecting his powers, found a shielded hiding place, all it took was one servant to burst into Gaius' chambers. One moment of carelessness, and this servant's amulet would start to glow. He couldn't keep track of every servant in the castle. Nor did he know the range of these crystals. All he could really do was tighten his control. If he quelled his powers, the nausea should dissipate. So for now, he focussed on the tasks at hand. Despite his current predicament, he actually looked forward to do some empty minded cleaning, away from Uther, Mathylda or Tagan tightening the net around him. But when he entered Arthur's room, it wasn't the mess he found that drew his attention.

"Merlin." Standing in the middle of the chamber, Mathylda spoke deceptively calm. "So glad you could join me."

Reluctantly, he closed the door behind him.

"Come forward."

He stopped a few paces away from her, noticing the spindle in her hand. She really didn't go anywhere without, did she? It didn't take a genius to guess what she was so upset about. No use in antagonizing her even further, so he lowered his head and braced himself.

"Tell me." She started circling him as if waiting for her prey to make a wrong move. She motioned around the room. "What is this?"

He couldn't help but shoot her a half-hearted smile. "It's… Arthur's chambers?"

Her face reddened. "These are the rooms of your royal highness, Prince Arthur."

Ready to dodge another whip from the spindle, no matter that this would probably enrage her more, he still flinched when she lifted her hand. Instead of lashing out, she pressed the thing's sharp tip against the gash on his cheek, drawing fresh blood.

"You will address him as such."

He winced at the pain enflaming his skin but kept a tight control on his magic, because she was clearly testing his reactions.

"The bed's unkempt, clothes have not been laundered, and the floor has not been scrubbed."

She moved a few paces away from him.

A sound drew his attention to the door. Arthur walked in. Not wanting the prince to get in trouble with the head of household and therefore the king, Merlin reluctantly gave in to Mathylda's demands and kept his eyes on the floor.

Arthur stopped, looking from one to the other. "What's going on here?"

"Sire," Mathylda bowed her head in deference. "As you can see, your servant has not performed his job this morning. I was merely disciplining him."

Merlin bit his lip, unsure how Arthur would react.

"With all due respect," The prince looked around. "I needed him somewhere else this morning."

"Than he was suppose to do his chores before waking you up, Sire."

"You hear that, Merlin?" His friend rounded on him, sounding teasing. "Before waking me up."

Merlin was about to nod when a wave of nausea hit him. Confused, because he wasn't using magic, at least not consciously, he willed down his powers. It helped, he didn't feel as sick anymore. "Yes, Sire."

Obviously disappointed that his attempt at banter didn't even get a look of resentment in return, Arthur sighed. "Can you at least look at me when I'm talking to you?"

Lifting his head, he caught Arthur's triumphant look, a split second before the man's expression changed into something Merlin had only seen a few times on the prince's face, and most of those times had him really worried. "It's not as bad as it looks, Ar-" He caught Mathylda's glare. "Your highness."

"What is this?" Arthur sounded so polite that Merlin thought he'd imagined the brief flash of concern tightening his features.

"He's addressing you with your proper title, Sire," Mathylda answered.

Without warning, Arthur grabbed his chin with both fingers. Far more gentle than Merlin had anticipated, the prince studied the left side of his face and frowned. "Did you have another run in with the floor this morning?"

Merlin gave a thin smile. "You know me."

"So, what you said this morning on our way over to the battlements-"

"You were right, I'm clumsy."

Arthur looked suspicious but seemed to buy his light hearted answer, until the prince turned around and caught sight of the spindle. "Wait," he sounded bewildered. Even from here, Merlin noticed traces of blood on the spools sharp tip. "You hit him?"

He had been hit by Arthur plenty of times, but half of those hits were dealt on the training field, and the other half were the prince's convoluted way of communicating with him. In his heart, Merlin knew his friend would never hurt him, least of all with the sheer malice Mathylda had done.

"He's not a very good servant, my Lord." Mathylda stood her ground. "He needed to be disciplined."

Merlin felt a pang of hurt as Arthur seemed to contemplate the situation. He shouldn't have been surprised though. Friend or not, he was still just a servant, and Mathylda was a guest of Camelot. The prince couldn't afford to make a point out of this.

As Arthur walked up to her, Merlin suddenly felt sick again. As if something inside snapped back to its natural state the moment he lowered his guard. Focusing inward, he pushed his powers down to where he barely registered them himself. He didn't like it. His magic was part of him, part of his soul. He'd always known that. Which meant his attempts to quell his powers needed to be continuous. He could not keep that up forever. A loud snap -the sound of wood breaking apart- tore him from his thoughts. He stared at Arthur in astonishment, at the spindle he'd yanked out of Mathylda's hands. Now broken in two.

Obviously, the prince was far from calm.

Mathylda's eyes had gone wide, shock riddling her features as Arthur shoved the two halves in her face. "If you ever hit him again," Arthur said in a cold voice, emphasizing every word with a move of the broken spindle. "I. Will. Make. Your. Life. A. Living. Hell. Is that understood?"

Worry for the prince replaced concern for his own safety. Knowing Arthur, Merlin had figured that sooner or later his friend needed to rip into something or someone. Probably on the practice field. But in the end, he had expected Arthur to vent his grief and tension on him. Gods knew he deserved it. Never in a million years had he expected Arthur to lose his temper over him. Least of all to someone like Mathylda. Which spoke volumes of how tired his friend must feel.

Mathylda lifted her chin. "Your father granted me authority over all the staff," she glanced at Merlin. "That includes your manservant. He answers to me. If his incompetence continues, and I'm not allowed to discipline him, then I'll be forced to replace him." She straightened, looking brave enough. "Your father-"

"Merlin is my responsibility. Not my father's, and not yours." Arthur retorted. "You want to discipline him? You'll find another way," he hissed, throwing the two halves down between them on the floor.

Another way? "What?" For a second he couldn't keep the hurt from surfacing. As Arthur faced away from him, the prince didn't notice.

"Merlin," Mathylda intervened. "After you've finished tonight in these chambers, I want you to report to me. Without delay."

Having dreaded something like this, Merlin nodded.

She frowned at his lack of deference to her title but didn't say anything else, gave one last curtsy to Arthur and left the room.

"You shouldn't have done that," Merlin said staring after her.

"If I hadn't agreed to some of her methods she would have replaced you."

"That is not what I meant. She seemed awfully fond of that spindle." He gave a thin smile.

Arthur turned, surprise gracing tired features. "Didn't you hear what I just said. She would have replaced you. I wouldn't have been able to stop her."

"You mean, you'd miss me?" Merlin threw his friend a lopsided grin.

"Or maybe," Arthur said, breezing passed him. He sat down behind his desk. "I just don't feel like breaking in another servant right now."

"Like Cedric?"

Arthur winced. "You just had to bring him up, hadn't you?" He sighed. "Look, I'm pretty sure all you'll be getting tonight is a tongue lashing of some sort. Or she may let you do some chores for her. Just let her. Keep your head down, will you?" He frowned as if noticing the amulet for the first time. "What is that."

"Oh, it's nothing. One of Tagan's methods to find this sorcerer. All servants are suppose to wear them."

"Ah yes. My father told me Tagan had resorted to using jewellery. Well, as long as it isn't magic…"

"Repels it, I think. It's supposed to glow when magic is used."

"Really?" Judging by the way Arthur stared at the amulet, his respect for Tagan seemed to rise a notch. "That's a very handy piece of crystal." The prince tore his gaze away, picked up his quill and pointed the feather in his direction. "Go see Gaius. Get yourself treated, then finish your chores." He surveyed the room, drawing a disgusted face. "Mathylda was right. This place is a mess."

"Yes, Sire." Merlin turned short of the door. "Arthur."

His friend looked up.

"Thank you."

Arthur waved him away.

Merlin left the room. Maybe his mentor could help him come up with a solution concerning the amulet around his neck. He only hoped he wouldn't run into Tagan or Mathylda on his way over.

TBC

A/N: I hope Arthur isn't too OOC. I figured he was tired and grieving, and therefore had a moment where he drops his princely demeanour. Also, I just couldn't resist the opportunity! : - ) And it created this marvellous friction between him and Mathylda. Please let me know your thoughts! Thank you for reading!