I know that this is a horrible excuse for my lack of updates, but I moved ten hours away from my old home. Time to adjust and all that jazz. If anyone is still here, have a new chappie. For disclaimers sake, I do not own Merlin.

Arthur woke the next morning to a blindingly brilliant shower of sunlight. With a growl of discontent, the king rolled over on his side.

"I swear that your only goal in life is to torture me, Merlin." He sighed into his pillow. A few moments passed with no witty retort, serving to spark some suspicion in Arthur's mind. Moaning, he sat up. "Did you bring breakfast then?" He asked, turning his torso towards his manservant. Merlin merely gave a reluctant nod. Arthur raised his eyebrows, a glimmer of challenge in his eyes.

"What's the matter, Merlin? Not enough sleep? I'm sure some practice on the field could-" Arthur's eyes flickered downwards and he paused. Were those bracelets on Merlin's wrist? What were they doing there? Suddenly, it all came flowing back to him. Right. Merlin, magic, evil. Or so he would be inclined to think. Arthur cleared his throat and stood up.

"I'll be dressed before I eat." He announced.

"I'll get your clothes then." Merlin answered in a near whisper. Arthur shook his head.

"Don't bother, I can do it myself. It doesn't take magic to put a shirt on." His words caused Merlin to flinch, and the young man's eyes flickered away from the king. Arthur swallowed nervously. His insult brought him no satisfaction or anything of the sort. Only a hollow feeling in his stomach- but perhaps that could be blamed on hunger. Pursing his lips, Arthur marched towards his wardrobe and yanked a shirt out from inside. Merlin stood straight, hands folded in front of him. He didn't move. Arthur fiddled with the shirt in his hands for a moment before clearing his throat.

"Why don't you go polish some of the swords in the armory? We'll need them for practice. I'll have another servant take my dishes when I am through with breakfast." Without making a single sound, Merlin moved towards the door. Arthur made a point not to watch him go, but he felt his heart quicken for a moment as the door slammed. Again he felt the resounding emptiness within his stomach. The king turned to the table and sat down, alone, to eat. He consumed every morsel on his plate, but it made no difference.

He still felt hollow.

"Alright men!" Arthur called out as he entered the training field. He felt the eyes of all the knights upon him, and a part of him wanted to shy away. No- that wasn't right. If there was anyone he should feel at ease around, it should be his men. His loyal knights, his best friends. The man struggled to keep his royal composure as he spoke.

"What will it be today?" He asked. Gwaine smiled. Arthur didn't like that smile.

"I say one on one sparring sounds nice right about now. What do you say, you against me?" Arthur forced himself to laugh.

"Are you sure about that? I have a pretty good track record when it comes to swordplay." Oh lords. He was sounding like a cocky prat- no, not a prat. That was a stupid word. Gwaine stared at Arthur, his eyes smoldering. This was going to be no friendly training session.

"If you are so good," Gwaine hissed through his teeth, "then you'll be glad to fight me. Come on princess, let's go." Arthur turned to his other men, seeking a touch of friendliness from any of them. Percival had the same flame in his eyes that Gwaine did. Always friendly Elyan was staring at the ground as if his life depended on it. Even Leon, mentor Leon, loyal Leon, avoided Arthur's gaze. So that's how it must have been for Uther, then. Looking out for the greater good of your kingdom meant sacrifice. Sometimes, that sacrifice was the trust of your friends- or perhaps your friends in general. Fine then. Arthur would do what he had to. What his father would have had him do. He reached into his scabbard and pulled out his sword.

"Alright, Gwaine. Are you ready?" The words had hardly escaped his mouth before the knight was barreling towards him, sword held up high. For a moment, Arthur was scared that Gwaine would kill him. For a split second he hesitated, before raising his sword up in defence. Metal made contact with metal and sparks flew. The two men pulled their swords away only to have them meet again. Never had the sound of swords in the training area sounded so loud and so furious.

Gwaine made no attempt at technique as he fought. He was led only by blind fury as he swung at Arthur again and again. Anger boiled up inside of Arthur and the two men became nothing but two enemies on a field. With each swing the fury inside the king grew greater. He had no time to think, no time to wonder whether he was angry at Gwaine or at himself. He was just angry. Angry, and with a sword.

A sudden, barbaric cry ripped from Gwaine and Arthur found his sword flying out of his hands. In a flash, the knight was on him and the two men were rolling through the grass.

"You're a bloody excuse for a king!" Gwaine cried out. "You know nothing. Where is your loyalty? Do you know nothing of the word?"

"I know what loyalty is." Arthur answered, struggling to get the knight off of him. Gwaine scoffed.

"Oh, I'm sure you do. You expect everyone to be loyal to you, don't you? But heaven forbid Mighty Arthur Pendragon should show an ounce of it. No, you take those who care about you and chain them up!"

"I didn't chain him up. They are only bands Gwaine, they do no harm." Arthur attempted to wriggle away, but Gwaine had him pinned. Adrenaline had made the stronger man at the moment. Gwaine leaned in close so that his face was mere inches away from Arthur's.

"You may have no physical chains, but you have trapped him inside himself. You said you didn't kill Merlin, but in a way you did. Don't make the same mistakes your father did, Arthur." He spat. Arthur grunted.

"Perhaps in some cases my father was correct. Sorcerer's cannot be trusted. If they could be, Mer-" Arthur cleared his throat. "He would have told me years ago."

"That would have been asking for death."

"Aren't you asking for death when you break the law?" Gwaine drew his arm back, and before Arthur had time to realize what was happening, the knight's fist made contact with the king's face. Arthur let out a cry of pain as Gwaine drew back his arm again. This time, however, he did swing. Arthur noted the man's focus draw away from him, and he twisted his body as well as he could to see what had caught Gwaine's attention. Merlin stood before them, a pained expression upon his features.

"Gwaine." The warlock whispered. "Stop."

Welcome to today's edition of Arthur is a Prat. I did not orignally intend to make it this bad…. Well, that just makes us look forward to the good, right? … Maybe? … I'm a horrible person.