Author's Note: This little scene takes place in Season 4 right before Uther's death. This will be a fun little one shot. I'll have some more angsty ones in the future, but I'm in a good mood so I'll be nice to our boys. Please review with your thoughts! They are greatly appreciated!

Merlin.

It was just a name. A fairly strange one, in Arthur's opinion. Yet, the emotional response it evoked in him was startling. Sometimes it was fury. After all, his servant was the most clumsy, irritating and worrisome creature he had ever met. Other times, the sound of the boy's name brought a small, exasperated smile to his lips because, despite everything he was and would one day be, he was incredibly fond of the idiot.

Their friendship was never something he would admit to, not in words anyways. It was an unspoken agreement. A shared knowledge of sorts. Merlin was always there, servant or not. Always supportive, always ready to have his back. It was nice, he supposed. He'd never had a true friend before. Merlin didn't care that he was heir to the throne of Camelot, didn't care that he was Prince Arthur. Arthur could just be Arthur and that, more than anything, made Merlin worth keeping around.

He had never shared a relationship with a servant before. At least, not one he was proud of. It had always been a game, a sort of grotesque activity that he'd amused himself with in his spare time. He'd treated them unfairly. All of them. There had been many before Merlin. Arthur had never kept a servant for long. He'd always assumed them weak, unworthy of his attention. Until, one very strange and bold boy stood up to him. Until he'd been proven wrong.

Wrong. It was a word Arthur Pendragon did not like. Being wrong was not something he was used to. He hated being wrong. As a royal, he was very rarely wrong. Not because he was any smarter or logical due to his bloodline, but because most people were too afraid to tell him so. Merlin was never afraid. If anything, the boy seemed to enjoy it. As if seeing how far he could push Arthur was a favorite game, something to amuse himself with. It was another reason Arthur liked him. Their back and forth banter gave the prince something to look forward to each day. Something to count on.

He had never shared his feelings with Merlin. He didn't need to. They weren't much for feelings, really. Well, that wasn't entirely true. Merlin loved feelings. It was Arthur that was more reserved, keeping the man at a distance he felt was respectable for a prince and his servant. Not that it mattered. Merlin could read his moods like a book and usually managed to get to the bottom of whatever was bothering him. It was another quality Arthur appreciated in the man.

There was only one problem. Merlin was always there for Arthur. The prince knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that the man would stay by his side until his dying breath. But, Arthur? Arthur was not there for Merlin. Not like he should be, not as a friend, which he would never admit that they were.

Of course, it wasn't entirely his fault. He was a prince and since his sister's betrayal and his father's subsequent fall into depression, he was practically king. There wasn't always time for moments between them. Not like there had been in the beginning, when they had just been testing the waters that would become their relationship. Besides, as progressive as Arthur was, as open to change as he wanted to be, having sappy moments with servants was not the way royalty conducted themselves. It just wasn't done. There would always be an image to uphold because as strong as a king was, he was nothing without his supporters. Supporters who had a very old-world view of where servants belonged on the hierarchy of life. He'd already pushed the envelope enough with Guinevere and that was a daily struggle in and of itself.

Still, Arthur tried. They had few moments alone together, but when they did the prince tried to get his servant to open up to him. To talk to him like Merlin had in the years before responsibility and duty overruled Arthur's life. Arthur tried, but Merlin seemed unresponsive. Uninterested in having meaningful conversations or sharing much of anything with him. It worried Arthur. It worried him a lot.

Arthur knew that the man had been hit hard by Morgana's betrayal. They all had. Arthur had nearly come undone when he discovered that she had been lying to him, lying to all of them from the moment she had returned to Camelot. He knew Merlin was upset. They had been friends once. Morgana had been Merlin's strongest advocate in the beginning, constantly defending him and scolding Arthur for any mistreatment the servant suffered at his hands. Yet, Arthur couldn't help but feel that there was more to Merlin's silence than Morgana and her plot against Camelot.

The young man had been keeping secrets from Arthur for a long time. Arthur knew this. Accepted this. He had no clue what Merlin was hiding, wasn't sure he even wanted to know, but he wasn't stupid. The other servants in the castle talked about him all the time, walking past the prince as if he couldn't hear what they were saying. Servants loved rumors like a bar wench loved tips. And Merlin? He was a juicy rumor. Always up to something, although if questioned they could never tell you with any certainty what that something was. He was simply being Merlin. A mystery.

Normally, he didn't mind. Merlin was his own man, after all. He could keep whatever secrets he wanted to. It was never a question of loyalty. Arthur knew Merlin would always remain steadfast to the end. The young man loved Camelot, love her people and loved everything she stood for. No, it was not a question of loyalty at all. Let Merlin keep his secrets. Gods knew he had plenty. It did not bother him.

Except today. Merlin was keeping something from him. Something big. And Arthur wanted in. Wanted to be let in. It was clear to him that servant was distracted by something. Arthur had his suspicions on what it was. After all, the other servants loved to talk. He just had to get the man to admit it.

"Merlin," Arthur said lazily, as if he had no ulterior motive for their conversation at all. "What are you doing?"

Merlin jerked in surprise at being addressed, clearly lost in thought, and spilled numerous grapes on the floor. Arthur rolled his eyes.

"What?" the servant barked, looking at the grapes as if they had offended him in some way.

"I said, what are you doing?" Arthur drawled again.

"I would think that was obvious," Merlin replied as he bent down to pick up the grapes. His tone was surly. "I'm fixing you dinner."

"I'm not eating those," Arthur said pointedly, looking at the grapes in Merlin's hands. "And watch your tone. You can't just speak to me any way you want to, Merlin."

Merlin frowned and set the grapes aside before returning to the arduous task of herding the peas on Arthur's plate into a manageable pile. He clearly was not feeling very...Merlinish. Arthur sighed. This was going to be harder than he thought.

"Alright," Arthur said loudly. "What is it? Clearly something is on your mind."

"Nothing is on my mind," Merlin answered immediately, refusing to look at the prince as he gently placed a roll beside the peas.

"Normally, I'd agree with you, Merlin. You are a complete idiot, after all. But something is going on between those ears of yours. Tell me."

Merlin merely stared at him. Arthur drummed his fingers against the wooden table, attempting to appear completely at ease. Why was the man making this so difficult? Just tell him already!

"Look," Arthur sighed, when it became apparent that Merlin was not going to share. "I heard something today."

"Oh?" Merlin asked innocently. Too innocently. "What was that, sire?"

"The festival was today," Arthur said knowingly. "The May festival."

"Yes," Merlin frowned. "I'm aware of that, Arthur. I was there. Remember? Are you sure you're not the one with the addled brain?"

"I never said your brains were addled," Arthur scolded. "Merely that you didn't have one." He shook his head to remind them they were getting off topic. "What did you do at the festival today, Merlin? You weren't with me."

"I don't have to spend every waking moment with you," Merlin said elusively, turning back to Arthur's dinner. "In fact, if I had the choice I wouldn't spend any moments with you. You're awfully boring these days, sire."

"You didn't answer the question, Merlin."

"I called you boring. That should be answer enough."

"Merlin."

"What?" Merlin snapped, exasperated.

"The festival," Arthur repeated, smirking. "What did you do?"

Merlin shrugged and awkwardly handed Arthur his plate. The prince looked at it and rolled his eyes again.

"May I go?" Merlin asked quickly, staring desperately at the door.

"No," Arthur said, taking a bite of his peas. "You certainly may not. Sit."

"What?" Merlin said again, staring at him as if he'd gone mad.

"Is there an echo in here?" Arthur asked impatiently, gesturing at the empty chair beside him with his fork. "I said sit."

Merlin slowly sat, peering apprehensively at Arthur, then the door and back again. It was clear that he did not want to play twenty questions with the prince, but that was exactly what was going to happen until Arthur had what he wanted.

"We never do this anymore," Arthur said conversationally. "Sit and eat together."

"We've never eaten together," Merlin replied blandly. "I serve, you eat. Remember?"

"We eat together when we go hunting," Arthur reminded him. "Plenty of times. If I recall, the last time you called me fat."

"I did not call you fat," Merlin sighed. "I simply said that-"

"You said that the way my chainmail bunched up when I sat made me look pregnant," Arthur argued, blushing slightly at the memory.

"Well," Merlin said testily. "If the armor fits, sire."

"It does fit," Arthur sniffed. "It fits perfectly. I do not look pregnant. I look dashing in my armor, Merlin. Women fall at my feet."

Merlin snorted at that and a small grin appeared on his face. Arthur was glad to see it. He'd missed it these past few months.

"You gave me spiced wine," Merlin reminded him, taking the roll from Arthur's plate and tearing off a chunk. "I'm brutally honest when I drink. You know that."

"Such a lightweight," Arthur teased. "Considering you spend every free moment in the tavern you'd think you would have built up more of a tolerance."

Merlin was silent at that. Chewing the roll without meeting Arthur's eyes. The prince sensed weakness and he was going to pounce on it like a wildcat on its prey.

"You know," he said softly. "They call the May festival the Lusty Month of May, don't you?"

"I've heard," Merlin said, his voice taking on a strange pitch. "It's certainly...fitting."

Merlin blushed and Arthur smiled. Yes, he was getting exactly where he needed to.

"What did you at the festival today, Merlin?" Arthur asked again, grinning widely.

"I did -I," Merlin stuttered, refusing to look at him. "Things."

"Things?" Arthur inquired mildly. "What sort of things, Merlin?"

"Festival things, Arthur. You know...things one does at a festival."

"Eat? Drink? Be merry?" Arthur said with a wicked grin. "Those sorts of things?"

"Yes," Merlin cried, exasperation and embarrassment fighting for dominance in his voice. "Can I go now?"

"No," Arthur said evenly. "What sort of 'merry' things did you get up to, Merlin?"

Arthur watched in mild alarm as a vibrant hue of red creeped up Merlin's throat and into his cheeks. He did not think he had ever seen his servant so mortified before. And that was saying something. He'd been in more than a few compromising situations. Then again, so had Arthur.

"Who told you?" Merlin finally blurted out, looking like a tomato.

"Told me what?" Arthur asked innocently, putting a hand to his chest like he had no clue what Merlin was going to say.

"About Victoria?" Merlin muttered, growing even redder. "About the...about what we...what she…"

"Victoria?" Arthur repeated, still playing oblivious. "Who is-"

"Oh drop the act," Merlin snapped. "I know you know. A girl kissed me, alright? It isn't like I've never been kissed before."

"Have you?" Arthur wondered. "You're practically maroon, Merlin. If kissing girls is something you have such practice at then surely you wouldn't be so embarrassed."

"I've had practice," Merlin muttered. "Lots and lots of practice."

Arthur raised his eyebrows and smirked. Merlin glowered at him.

"So," Arthur said, after a moment. "How was it?"

"How-how was it?" Merlin spluttered. "The kiss?"

"Yes," Arthur said enthusiastically. "The kiss, Merlin! How was the kiss?"

"It was...good," Merlin said quietly. "Nice. I guess."

"You guess?"

"Yes, Arthur. I guess."

"Was she pretty?"

"Yes. Very."

"And she chose to kiss you? It wasn't forced or anything?"

Merlin gave him a look and Arthur shrugged.

"There are kissing booths in the Lower Town," Arthur said in way of explanation. "I thought that maybe…"

"You thought I would have to pay to get a girl to kiss me?" Merlin said testily. "Gee, thanks, Arthur."

"I didn't mean that," Arthur rebuked, rolling his eyes. "I just meant that if a pretty girl kissed me out of the blue I would have more to say about it than 'it was nice.'"

"I'm not you," Merlin retorted. "Thank gods for small mercies."

"Merlin."

"Sire," Merlin hissed, breathing in deep and closing his eyes. "It was a kiss, alright? It wasn't a marriage proposal. There is no need to go on and on about it. I don't know who told you in the first place, but...wait, it was Gwain, wasn't it?" Arthur started to answer, but Merlin held up his hand to stop him. For once, Arthur listened. "It doesn't matter. You want to know why it doesn't matter, Arthur? Because it was just a bloody kiss. We were in the market and she caught my eye and then she kissed me. I dropped my drink and she-"

"Wait," Arthur said, shaking his head. "She kissed you and you dropped your drink? Please tell you aren't that big of a spaz, Merlin."

"What was I supposed to do?" Merlin asked, throwing his hands up. "She just sort of grabbed me and I had no place to put my hands so I-I dropped my drink." He frowned and looked away from him. "I just-my hands-and she-she just-I wasn't expecting anything and-"

Arthur began to laugh. He laughed so hard he had to put his own drink down lest it spill down his front. Merlin was not amused and glared at him from across the table.

"It isn't funny, Arthur."

"It is," Arthur gasped, doubling over as mirth overtook him. "I just get this-this mental image of you-of your face-"

Merlin chucked his roll at him and it only made Arthur laugh even harder. Gods, it felt good to laugh like this. It had been so long. Too long. Even if it was at Merlin's expense. It felt damn good.

"So-so what happened next?" Arthur said, finally gaining control over himself. "After you dropped your drink."

"I'm not telling you anything else," Merlin sniffed, still glaring at him.

"Come on," Arthur said, hitting him on the shoulder. "You can tell me."

"Arthur," Merlin began. "I don't-"

"Come on! Stop pretending to be interesting and tell me!"

Merlin stared at him, most likely remembering all the times Arthur had said that to him. It was the prince's way of telling Merlin he was listening. Without judgement. Well, without too much judgement.

"There isn't really more to the story," Merlin said after a moment. "She kissed me. I dropped my drink. We danced. And then I came here...to you and your prat face."

"Do you like her?" Arthur asked. "Would you be willing to-"

"No," Merlin said quickly. "I mean, she's nice and pretty and-"

"A good kisser?" Arthur asked, grinning.

"That too," Merlin flushed. "But she and I. It was just a moment in the festival, Arthur. Nothing serious."

"It could be," Arthur told him seriously. "If you wanted it to be. You can have a life outside of your duties here, Merlin."

"I know that," Merlin said awkwardly.

"It's just," Arthur began, but stopped, biting his lip.

"Just what?"

"I never see you with anyone, Merlin. Ever. You are either with me or Gaius or the knights. If you wanted to find someone. A girl. I would be okay with that."

"There isn't time," Merlin said immediately, waving off the prince's sincerity with an awkward hand. "I wouldn't have time to-"

"Make time," Arthur interrupted. "You don't have time because you never ask, Merlin."

"You would never grant me a day off," Merlin scoffed.

"Try me," Arthur smirked.

"Alright," Merlin said boldly. "May I have a day off?"

"Are you going to see Victoria?"

"No."

"Then no, you may not have a day off."

"What?" Merlin spluttered. "You just said!"

"I know what I said," Arthur said evenly. "And when you have a reason...an actual reason...you can have a day off. You don't get a day off to just mope by yourself."

"I don't mope."

"You mope. All the time. It's irritating."

"You're a prat."

"Sticks and stones, Merlin. Besides, you need to come up with new material. Prat is getting old."

"Why do you care so much?" Merlin asked him. "What does it matter to you if I have a girl to spend time with or not?"

"I want you to be happy," Arthur said simply, surprised by his words even as they slipped from his mouth. Not by the truth of them, of course. He did want Merlin to be happy. But he'd never expected to say them out loud.

By the look on Merlin's face, it hadn't been the answer he was expecting either. His eyes were wide and his expression looked far mushier than Arthur was comfortable with. Arthur started to open his mouth, to take the whole thing back, but was stopped by Merlin's whisper of, "I am happy."

"Merlin," Arthur said. "You don't have to say that."

"I know I don't," Merlin told him. "I appreciate your concern, but I really am happy. And girls...well, they aren't really in the cards for me right now."

"Why? Before Gwen, I always had time for girls."

"I'm not you," Merlin said simply. "I don't need that much attention."

"I do not need attention, Merlin."

"Sire, you kid yourself. You wouldn't even be able to button up your shirt without me. You need constant supervision." Merlin pursed his lips and shook his head sadly. "And all that posturing you do out on the training field? Clearly a cry for help."

"I don't posture," Arthur told him haughtily. "I swagger. There is a difference. You would know it if you had any charisma."

"Charisma," Merlin snorted. "Isn't that another word for delusions of grandeur?"

Arthur laughed, but he wasn't done with his servant yet. Not by a long shot.

"So," he said slowly. "Why aren't girls in the cards for you, Merlin? I mean, you're not scared of them, are you? Even you might snag one if you tried hard enough."

"I'm not scared," Merlin replied. "Just not interested."

"Ah," Arthur said knowingly. "I see. So, you want a Victor and not a-"

"What?" Merlin said, surprised. "That is not what I meant, Arthur."

"It's okay if that's the case," Arthur told him. "There is nothing wrong with-"

"I know there is nothing wrong with it," Merlin snapped. "But that isn't what I meant. I like girls...just not right now."

"Why?"

"Why are you so interested in this?" Merlin growled. "It's my personal life, Arthur. Butt out."

"Nah," Arthur said, spearing a bit of cold turkey on his fork and throwing it in his mouth. "I don't feel like it. Why don't you just go out with Victoria and see if you like her?"

"Because I like someone else," Merlin finally sighed. "Will you shut up about it now?"

"Who?" Arthur asked eagerly. "Do I know her?"

"You've met," Merlin said cryptically.

"Is it another servant in the court?" Arthur asked. "Maybe Gwen could put in a good word for you and-"

"Arthur," Merlin said softly. "Please. Don't."

Arthur stopped at the sound of Merlin's voice. It was filled with pain and when he looked at the servant's expression it was melancholy. Arthur wasn't sure what to think. He'd never seen Merlin like this before. There was that one time, with the Dragonlord, that Merlin had cried, but that was so long ago. And this...Merlin was hurting, but Arthur didn't know why.

"Merlin," Arthur said. "It can't be that bad. I mean, you have a chance with her, right? We can make you look good. I'll help and Gwen-"

"Arthur," Merlin said again. "It won't matter. Nothing you do will matter. Alright?"

"Why wouldn't it-"

"Because she's dead," Merlin finally whispered. His voice was tired. "She's dead, Arthur."

Arthur stared at his friend, at a loss for words. How could he have not known about this? How could Merlin have kept this from him? Was he so engrossed in his own life that he didn't even notice that Merlin had been in love? That his love had been taken from him? No, he had not been a good friend at all.

"When did this happen?" Arthur asked quietly. "Merlin, why wouldn't you have said something?"

"Because it was easier not to," Merlin told him. "It was easier to pretend that everything was perfectly fine because that is what you expect of me, Arthur. Perfectly fine."

"No," Arthur started, but stopped when Merlin looked at him.

"Alright," Arthur said slowly. "Perhaps you're right. Perhaps I expect you to be 'fine' because I need you to be. I need you to be Merlin. Without that I'm…" He shook his head at the emotional words and looked back at his friend. "How did it happen?"

"Fever," Merlin said, sucking in a breath. Arthur could instantly tell that the servant was lying to him, but he decided not to push it. He'd certainly pushed enough that night. "One night she was fine and then...she was gone."

"You said we've met," Arthur said gently. "Who was she?"

"Just a girl," Merlin said, evasive again. "A visitor from a village by a lake. You met her in passing. You wouldn't remember her."

"Her name?"

Merlin shook his head once and would not answer. He couldn't even look Arthur in the eye. The prince instantly regrette bringing the topic up. He should have left well enough alone. But, if it brought them closer, if it made Merlin open up to him then maybe it would be worth it.

"Alright," Arthur said slowly. "You don't have to tell me, Merlin. Just...just know that I'm here. For you, I mean. You don't have to be fine for me. That was an unfair expectation. I'm...I'm sorry."

Merlin was silent for a long time. Finally, he stood up and met Arthur's eyes.

"May I go?" he asked again.

Arthur relented.

"Yes, you may go, Merlin."

The servant nodded once and turned to file out the door. He pulled it open, perhaps harder than he meant to in his emotion, but stopped, one hand gripping the door as if it was the only thing keeping him upright.

"Thank you," Merlin said quietly.

"For what?" Arthur asked, watching him closely.

"For listening," Merlin replied, not turning to look at him. "For caring."

"Of course," Arthur said gruffly, blushing with his own emotions.

"And Arthur?" Merlin said, finally turning to look at him. "I want you to know that I am happy. Here. With you. With the knights."

"I know," Arthur told him. "I know you are, Merlin. And I'm...I'm glad. But, you should know. When the time comes, when it's the right moment, you'll meet someone and this pain you are feeling...it won't hurt as much anymore. When you're ready to move on...from me...from Camelot, to start your own life...I'll understand."

"Already counting down the days, sire. Already counting down the days."

Arthur threw peas at him as he ducked out the door, laughing. He was secretly glad that Merlin answered his show emotion with sarcasm. It made things easier. Then again, he suspected Merlin knew this and did it for his benefit. After all, Arthur would never admit they were friends, but they were. And Arthur wouldn't have it any other way.