Author's Notes: I'm back! So sorry it took me such a long time, but I did warn you it would take a while longer. To appease you I could give you all Dutch cookies, but I decided to award you with a longer chapter instead. Now, I would like to thank those of you who pm'd me over the passed few weeks. You know who you are. I'd make a list but I'm afraid I'll forget one. Thank you! With ALL my heart! You're the reason I keep writing! Then there's my beta. Thank you, for making me laugh!

Onto the story: I've changed Elliot's age to him being more of Mordred's age. No whump, just lots of bromance in this one folks!

Enjoy.

Chapter 9

"Arthur, wake up."

Arthur opened his eyes to find Merlin standing by the window. His servant turned away before he could catch his eye. Looking around, the prince noticed the room was clean, smelled freshly scrubbed, and breakfast was waiting. "Merlin, what are you doing?"

"My duty. Isn't that what you wanted?" He moved through the room.

Arthur grinned. "Aha! Mathylda's methods are rubbing off on you." He fell back into his pillows. "Finally, some decent service for a change."

"Will you be wearing your armour today? Merlin snapped, as if his servant hadn't heard him. "After all, you need to spend some time on the practice field."

"You do remember who you're talking to, right? Hang on. Are you saying I need practice?"

"No, no," Merlin lifted his hands. "Well, maybe. You used to train every day. So any time you feel the need to beat me up." He opened the wardrobe doors. "Just say so and I'll be at your back and call."

"All right." Arthur swung out of bed and rubbed his neck. He frowned when Merlin disregarded several shirts by throwing vehemently over his shoulder. "Who are you, and what have you done with my servant?"

"What?" Merlin turned toward him, shirt in hand.

"Do I need to spell it out? What is wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing. O-kay." He paused to stand up. "Yes, I'll be wearing my armour, and yes, I expect you to accompany me to the field later." Then he noticed something, which honest to God he'd never see him do before without sufficient reason. Like when Aredian had accused Gaius of sorcery. Or when that dragonlord had died. But in those instances, it had always been about other people. The man was just too sensitive for his own good. "Merlin," he furrowed his brow again. "Why are you trembling?"

He yanked his hands behind his back, shirt and all. "Oh, that. It's nothing."

Arthur couldn't help but laugh, throwing him an opening. "Practice can't be that bad."

"You try seeing it from my end of things," he said, dropped the shirt and closed the wardrobe doors. "Armour it is then."

"Mathylda didn't hit you again, did she?" He thought that sounded casual enough.

"What? No, no. I told you. It's noth-"

Arthur lowered his voice. "If you're going to tell me 'it's nothing' one more time, I'll have you run ten laps around the training field with a shield on your back." So he'd promised himself to keep his distance. But he hadn't liked the submissive look on his servant's face yesterday, and he didn't like his startled look now. "Honestly, Mathylda's only the head of household. She can't make you that scared."

"No! Of course not." Merlin gave a lopsided grin. "Sorry, I just haven't slept well, I guess."

He could relate to that. He'd also been restless in his sleep, had woken up a lot. "She must have given you some lecture, then."

"She made her point," he sounded, obviously not wanting to go into detail.

Arthur refused to feel guilty and moved on. "Good, now, help me get dressed." He pondered on how best to break the news that Tagan wanted to see him. He'd planned to be straight forward from the get go, but Merlin, and his disconcertingly out-of-character-bad-mood, deserved perhaps a bit more diplomacy. His servant helped him in his breaches, padded shirt, chainmail and armour. Half dressed, Arthur waited for the rest of his outfit but none was coming. "Merlin."

His servant stood by the table, deep in thought. "What?"

"What is wrong with you today! My boots, my sword belt?"

"Oh yes, sorry."

Merlin handed him his belt, but Arthur crossed his arms.

"Do you want your belt or not?"

"I want to know what it is that you're not telling me."

"It's noth-" He clamped his mouth shut at Arthur's glare, then cocked his head. "You're not usually this persistent. There's something you're not telling me. Isn't there?"

"No." Which was a stupid thing to say. Irritated at Merlin having turned the tables on him, Arthur released a breath. "All right. Yes. Tagan wants to see you."

"Tagan? What does he want with me? You know everything I do."

"You're not under suspicion or anything. He just wants to question you, seeing how as my servant you have the run of the castle. You might have noticed something we missed."

Merlin stared at him. "And you believe him?"

"I have no reason not to."

"If he wants to see me, than he suspects me."

"Don't be ridiculous. He's only doing what the King has asked them to do. If it's any consolation, I won't let him carry his interrogation too far."

In a perfect mimic of Arthur's exasperation, Merlin rolled his eyes. "Oh, that's okay, then. He'll just stick to thumb screws and other unmentionables in order to drag out what he wants to hear."

Arthur couldn't help but laugh. "Will you stop exaggerating? It'll only take half an hour at most, after that, I promise, I'll take you out onto the practice field."

Merlin groaned.

Arthur didn't feel one bit of remorse at his servant's dismay. He couldn't afford to. So him forgoing breakfast didn't have anything to do with a nagging doubt that maybe Merlin was right. All he knew was that he wanted to get this over with quickly, so Tagan would see reason and they could all get on with their lives.

Falling in step behind Arthur, Merlin thought of Tagan. The man wasn't a witch finder, but he'd learned to be more careful since then. One little mistake -conjuring a horse from the smoke because he'd felt tired of hauling firewood, of being just a shadow- had ended in near disaster. The last thing he wanted was for anyone to get into trouble because of him. In a way he felt relieved that Gaius wasn't here. At least now his mentor couldn't be questioned by Tagan. But that also meant he needed to keep his wits about him.

If he told Arthur about the night he'd had, his friend might try to put a stop to it, but Mathylda would then go over his head to Uther. And Arthur would be in trouble. Also, another confrontation between the prince and the head of household could cause Tagan to grow more suspicious of the influence Merlin seemed to have over the prince. Not that he thought he had any. Sometimes, he felt his friend saw him for who he really was. Other times it was like he ran into a wall, and was slowly becoming the shadow he pretended to be. Battling a headache from stiff muscles and lack of sleep, he wasn't registering where they were going, until Arthur descended down toward the lower levels. "This isn't the way to Tagan's quarters," he hissed.

"He's not in his quarters."

Merlin halted in his tracks.

Arthur kept moving. "He's in the dungeons."

"Oh, this just gets better and better."

"Will you stop worrying!" Arthur swivelled on his heels. "And for God's sake, stop shaking. Quivering like a little girl will not get you into his good books!"

That did it. "I can't help it! I haven't had breakfast yet!"

"Neither have I. You don't see me nearly fainting from lack of sustenance. Buck up!"

Merlin bit his lip, but in the end kept his mouth shut. Lack of sleep couldn't be the only reason why he felt this awful. Both Gaius and the dragon had told him he was a creature of magic. So dousing his powers couldn't do him much good. He hoped he was wrong, but feared that eventually, he would start to get sick. They reached the lower levels just in time to hear running footsteps coming towards them. Rounding a corner, Elliot swerved to avoid them. Red rimmed eyes set in a tear streaked face glanced up at them. Noticing it was Arthur he'd bumped into, the boy stammered an apology, but before any of them could say anything, he was gone again.

Gwen came running around the corner, her face a mask of concern.

"Guinevere?" Arthur stopped her.

"My Lord," she curtsied. Then her eyes darted from one to the other. "Did you see where he went?"

"What? You mean the larder boy?" Arthur looked confused.

Merlin stepped in. "Gwen, what's wrong?"

"I just came from the kitchens and was about to go upstairs when I heard crying. I found Elliot just up the corridor. He told me Tagan had a talk with him. He was so upset."

"Did he hurt him?" Merlin pressed, her concern echoing inside him.

"No," she took a deep breath. "No, I don't think so. It's more shock than anything else. Tagan pushed him a little too hard. Elliot's probably heading for the kitchens. I need to find him."

Merlin shook his head. Not only was he worried, he also needed to be sure that the boy was out of Tagan's line of fire. "Don't worry." With disregard to the consequences, he ran after Elliot. "He trusts me. I'll find him."

"Merlin!" Arthur threw his hands in the air, muttered a colourful insult under his breath and, seeing as he didn't have a choice, looked around. "Guards!"

"What are you doing?"

"I know you mean well, Gwen." He shot her a sideway glance. Where were those guards when you needed them? "But I'm under orders to bring him in."

"Then you should go after him yourself." She shot him a reprimanding glare. "He's having a rough enough time as it is!"

"If you're talking about Mathylda, I'm doing everything I can to keep her of his back."

"I just came from the kitchens. Bertha told me that aside from getting you your breakfast, Merlin hasn't been in the there for days."

He shrugged. "There was no need. I ate with my father. Guards!"

"Did Merlin?"

"How am I suppose to know? He eats with Gaius most of the time."

She crossed her arms. "Gaius is away."

"Yes, well, I suppose he's man enough to eat on his own."

"He hasn't."

He blinked, really looking at her now. "Are you sure?"

"He hasn't taken food from the kitchens."

It all fell in place. The tremors, the surly attitude. He tensed, trying to think of the last time he'd seen Merlin eat something. Certainly not yesterday when he had dragged his servant out of bed himself. The day before, maybe. But he couldn't have eaten much. Which meant it had been at least two days. He clenched his jaw.

"Unless he's taken food from your plate? But Merlin isn't like that."

He shook his head. Judging by the full plate this morning, Merlin hadn't. "He could have snatched something from home. I'm sure Gaius didn't leave his cupboards empty."

"Arthur, Mathylda hasn't let him."

He threw his head back in exasperation. "Why didn't he said something?" Annoyance turned into anger, simmering just below the surface. "He told me, he skipped breakfast this morning. Not two days worth of meals."

"You know he's not going to complain to you about it."

No, especially not after he'd shouted at him to get his act together. And for all his loyalty, Merlin was also as stubborn as his father's old warhorse. He suddenly felt exactly like he did years ago as a kid, on the brink of a massive temper tantrum. He'd learned to channel his anger since then, albeit mostly on practice dummies and, though he loathed to admit it, sometimes on Merlin. But he would never take that too far.

"There's more."

Dumbfounded, all he could do was repeat the word. "More."

"One of the maids spotted Merlin coming out of Mathylda's rooms this morning. I don't think she let him sleep."

He stared at her. "Right." No wonder Merlin snapped at him this morning. A small voice told him that he should feel honoured that his servant felt safe enough with him to be like that, instead of becoming totally submissive after Mathylda's treatment, but all he saw was the injustice of it all. His muscles tightened as anger filled him, drowning out what sure as hell couldn't be guilt. He shouldn't care, but he did. He could never allow himself to show his concern though, so he focussed his rage on Mathylda and the methods she used. He paced off.

"Where are you going?"

"I guess I'm going after him." He stopped, then traced back his steps. "Guinevere." His worry for her took the sting out of his voice. "If Mathylda tries anything like that on you, don't hesitate to tell me."

"She hasn't. She hasn't even introduced herself to the maids yet, let alone to me."

"Good." He felt something inside harden. "I'll make sure it stays that way."

Busy with their day to day chores, the kitchen staff pain no attention to him. "Elliot?" Merlin inquired.

Bertha, the small but feisty woman in charge, pointed at the supply room. She looked annoyed. "In there."

Sure enough he found Elliot sitting in a corner, hidden behind half a dozen fruit-filled baskets. He didn't say much it first. It was only after he offered the boy an apple that Elliot looked up at him. Hesitant to eat, because Bertha didn't allow theft from her kitchens, Elliot held the fruit to his chest.

"Don't worry," Merlin sat back on his haunches. "I'll just tell Bertha that Arthur got hungry. He gets really cranky when he hasn't had his breakfast yet."

That drew a smile on Elliot's face and he started to talk. Gwen was right. Tagan hadn't hurt him, but had pushed hard to get him to admit he was the sorcerer they were looking for. Elliot snivelled. "I'm not a sorcerer."

His small voice tugged at Merlin's heart. No, Elliot wasn't. But he was. "I'm sure Tagan knows now that you are not." He couldn't let Elliot suffer because of him. "You are very brave."

He got a fierce not in return.

Merlin left him munching on the apple, then walked outside the kitchen and leaned back against the wall. It felt like Gaius and Aredian all over again. He needed to find out more about the scribe and Mathylda, about their motives, before he could risk using magic. Something about them felt off. For all he knew they might want to use his magic for their own ends. So confessing might endanger his friends, might put Arthur's life in danger. He prided himself for not losing control last night, but it had been hard. He closed his eyes, trying to think through his headache. He couldn't postpone his session with Tagan much longer. Something clattered on the small table against the wall to his left. Jerked from his thoughts, he found Arthur standing in front of him, and he didn't look happy.

Merlin couldn't have gone far. For all of Mathylda's accusations about his serving skills, or lack there of, he was always there when Arthur needed him. Sure enough he found his servant leaning against a wall a few feet away from the kitchens. He refused to acknowledge how worn out Merlin looked. Having closed his eyes, Merlin hadn't noticed him. Arthur grabbed a plate of food from the hands of a passing chambermaid, and with a loud clang dropped it on the table next to them. "Why didn't you tell me you haven't eaten for days!"

Merlin jumped, but then seemed to get a grip on himself quickly enough. He looked away. "There was no point."

"No point!" After all they'd been through, the siege, the dragon, Morgause's attack, Merlin still didn't think he could trust him? He saw red. Fear of how powerless he felt crept into his voice. Or perhaps it was the recent loss of his step sister that caused him to lose control, for he was shaking as hard as Merlin was. "What good are you to me half dead!"

All kind of emotions fluttered across his servant's face. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry? I'm having enough troubles to deal with, without you starving yourself into a stupor out of some twisted sense of loyalty!"

That got him a reaction all right. Blue eyes deepened with a pain, telling him he'd actually struck an unfair blow.

He didn't apologize, he had every right to be angry. Camelot was known for treating its servants well. So he had a reputation to uphold. This didn't have anything to do with worry, or loss, or the fact that there were but a few people in this household he could call a friend. He stepped back, because if he didn't, he would have smashed his fist into the wall. He hadn't even mentioned his servants apparent lack of sleep yet. That would have sent his rage over the edge, and… that wasn't Merlin's fault. It was his.

Merlin sighed. "It wasn't … something to concern you with."

"What if Guinevere hadn't told me?" He kept his voice as calm as he could muster. "You would have just what? Drop dead in front of me at some point?"

"I wouldn't have let it go that far. I'm not an idiot," Merlin smirked. "I'd have eaten something sooner or later."

Arthur shook his head, then caught his friend's gaze. There was a strength there that told him Merlin was telling the truth. He stepped back as the rage drained out of him. What was wrong with him of late? He shouldn't have blown up in his servant's face, shouldn't have lowered his guard like that. So then why had he bothered to bring Merlin a plate of food? He pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers. "I was suppose to bring you in half an hour ago."

"Ah right, the torture session. How could I forget."

"For the last time, Tagan just wants to ask you a bunch of questions. Now eat up." He pointed at the plate with some cheese and bread on the side table with a dismissive wave, hoping Merlin didn't read too much into it. He was out of luck, off course.

"What, you're serving me?" Merlin stared at the plate, then back at him. He cocked his head. "You were really worried about me."

"Don't be preposterous. All I'm doing is disapproving of Mathylda's methods. You're just a pawn in my game to head her off. Now hurry up. If I'm gone for much longer my father will have the guards start a search."

"If he thinks I'm a sorcerer than maybe he assumes I've kidnapped you," Merlin mumbled standing there, begrudgingly eating small bits at a time. He looked tired, but rather smug.

Arthur harrumphed. "As if you could ever get the drop on me!"

"Gwen's okay, right?"

"Don't worry. I won't allow any harm to come to her."

"But with me, it's fine." It wasn't a question.

"You're not a girl, Merlin. You act like you've got something to hide!"

"I don't trust Tagan!"

Arthur fell quiet, after what Mathylda did to him, his servant had a point. "If I don't bring you in, he'll grow suspicious."

"I know."

Merlin's firm resignation not sitting well with him, Arthur drew out the word. "R-right, are you finished?"

"Yes, let's go," he snapped.

Arthur stared at him, then pushed his apprehension aside and led Merlin back to the dungeons.

Tbc

A/N: So, Merlin is holding his own right now, you're entitled to disagree of course, but to me that shows he's showing plenty of strength. Next chapter will be even more challenging for him, so angst ahead. Also, more of Arthur (him finding out about the deprivation like this to me was the only way to go) and a bit of the plot will start to unravel. Hope you enjoyed this! If not, tough, this is the way it's going to be.

Now for the bad news, posting time, will be more wide spread from now on (As opposed to what I told some of you in a pm. Which is a good thing.) I'm non native English people. I need the time. Plus the plot is getting complicated so I need to write ahead. But on the upside. It means you'll be getting longer chapters! Hope to see you then!