Same warnings as always ;). Re-posted May 15/2015 (tried to fix some rather crappy tense issues. hope I caught them all!)

Chapter 3: Ferdinand the Fierce

-00-

The sharpest sword is a word spoken in wrath. - Gautama Buddha

-00-

Guinevere was having a rough day.

Oh, she knew that she should feel honored and delighted over the fact that the Prince of Camelot had chosen her, a mere serving girl, to trust with this ridiculous brave scheme of his. And she was….truly she was; it was just that she was also a tad….well, frustrated.

She understood that Prince Arthur was just that, a prince; and as such, could not be expected to act like most people (with any sense of decency or consideration) might act in his given situation—regardless of the fact that he was the one to place himself in said situation to start with. No! she was not going down that path again…it would just make her lost her temper and cause her to say something to the prince that she would end up regretting later.

Of course, a night spent sleeping on the floor had done little to ease her annoyance at her lord and leader. But that was life….he was royalty; born to a life of luxury and comfort, while she was a servant; born to serve and keep her lord in said comfort. It still rankled somewhat however.

Hence the reason why she was now wandering the bustling midday market—she was trying to delay her inevitable return to her house and her current secret house guest; Arthur. Honestly, sometimes she had to wonder about his and Merlin's sense, because she knew that, even though this was largely thought up by Arthur, Merlin had some part to play in this fiasco. Sure, it might have been just trying to act as a restraining hand or guide for Arthur's more extravagant schemes, but she knew that it was likely Merlin she had to thank (blame) for her own part in this idiocy.

At first she had somewhat admired the prince's sentiments about wanting to see if he could win as an unknown participant instead of everyone just handing him the victory because he was who he was. Of course that admiration towards him and his nobleness had been somewhat tarnished when his actions did not match his words. Yes, he was competing as just another unknown knight to test his skills, but the fact that he was pretending to be just another subject in the kingdom had done little to change his expectations on his accommodations and day to day life.

And since he could not pretend to be someone else while staying at the castle, these expectations had fallen to her to maintain….something she truly did not appreciate, no matter how handsome the arrogant 'dollophead' (Merlin's choice of insult, not her's) was.

She sighed and resolutely pushed the last of her annoyance away, instead focusing on the mound of potatoes and leeks in front of her. Both of which she would need if she wanted to finish the soup she had started, in time for dinner tonight. That was when she first caught sight of him.

Later on, after all came to pass, she would look back on this moment and realize that she wasn't even sure what it was about him that had made her take notice of him in the first place. Sure, he was rather attractive—in an odd, sort of mysterious way, and she had no doubt that he was not from these parts (given how he was staring around him with something akin to awe and wonderment) but there was nothing particularly special about him.

There were plenty of attractive men roaming around (it was a tournament for knights after all), many of them foreigners—so both of those reasons did not necessarily excuse the way her eyes were drawn to his slight frame. Though maybe that was the reason; he did not look old enough to be competing in the tourney—perhaps fifteen or sixteen summers at most…and from what she could tell, he was most definitely alone.

While his clothes were that of a journeyman's or perhaps a merchant's*, he held a wariness in his frame that spoke of a much more violent and dangerous life. And for reasons Gwen had no knowledge of, she found herself approaching the stranger.

"Excuse me" she said, offering a warm, disarming smile (she knew it was both because it worked on everyone—even the crabby old cook down in the kitchens), "are you looking for someone?" she added; because it was obvious that he was. Behind the apparent fascination he had for everything around him, his eyes were scanning the area far too often for him to be simply taking in everything. Plus given how he was dressed, it did not make sense that he was staring around the market like a common peasant who had never seen anything outside their own small village.

The boy startled slightly but was quick to cover his surprise and sent her a charming smile in return. And no, her heart rate did not pick up in the least—plus she already had enough 'boy' problems to last her a life time; what with Lancelot, and now a completely irrational and impossible crush on the prince of all people (she might be annoyed as hell at him currently, but that did not stop her traitorous mind from recalling just how his unfairly golden hair reflected the afternoon's light). "Er…yes and no?" he answered sheepishly.

She was caught up in his accent for a moment (her proof that she had been correct in the assumption that he was not from around here…in fact, she had never heard that kind of an accent before) before she processed his words, causing her to quirk an eyebrow in question.

The boy sent her another smile, and she was struck by the fact that it seemed incredibly familiar—not that she was able to place it just now…but she could have sworn she had seen it or something resembling it recently….

"Well, I am rather new to the area. I am looking to find my estranged brother but given I have no idea as to where to find him, or even begin looking for him, and because I heard about the tournament, I decided Camelot was as good of place to start as any" the green eyed boy explained before offering a hand, "I'm Henry by the way, Henry Emrys."

Again Gwen was hit by the feeling that she should know that name….shaking her head at her own distraction, she shook his hand and introduced herself back, "I'm Guinevere, but most call me Gwen"—she held off on her last name because after all, Henry was still a stranger, regardless of how friendly and harmless he seemed.

"Pleasure to meet you Gwen" again with the familiar grin. Gwen shifted her half filled basket wondering what she should do next. After all, she still wasn't even sure why she had stopped and introduced herself in the first place….she definitely did not have a plan for this.

"Do you have somewhere to stay?" she finally settled on, and again wasn't quite sure why she asked. It wasn't as though she could offer her own house—considering she was currently harboring the prince there.

"Er….not really, I just got here. I figured that I would find the local tavern or church and see if they had a spare room, though I suppose with the tourney….." he trailed off as though the thought that all the available beds might already be booked had just occurred to him before shrugging and continuing, "Well, worse comes to worse, I can always just find a clearing outside of town and pitch my tent."

Gwen felt rather horrible at the thought—from the looks of him, Henry could use a decent night's sleep and a few good meals—he was nearly as thin as Merlin! Speaking of which, she spotted a familiar mop of dark hair and a flash of red (which she had learned to associate with her friend and his handkerchiefs) bobbing through the crowd.

"Merlin!" she shouted out, waving a hand to grab the clumsy servant's attention, not noticing the start that Henry gave at the name.

The gawky manservant made his way towards them, just barely managing to avoid knocking into an overburdened woman carrying several dozen eggs on his way. He had that look on his face that Gwen had learned to dread—the one that said the news he was bearing was anything but good.

"What?" she asked a tad loudly—temporarily forgetting that Henry was still present and watching them (well watching Merlin; but being distracted she didn't see this), "What is it? Is Arthur okay? Did something happen?"

Merlin shook his head, wringing his hands in agitation as he stopped before her completely disregarding the third person present given his current agitation, "er….no, not exactly…well not yet" he stumbled in a typical Merlinesque way over his words.

Gwen found herself once again quirking her eyebrow in question, the action done only minutes prior reminding her that she was not alone—but she pushed it aside for the moment; it was obvious something had gotten her friend worked up, and generally the only things to get Merlin worked up concerned Arthur: Arthur, who was currently hiding in her house.

"….um well….it seems as though things might be a bit more complicated than we originally thought…." Merlin trailed off shifting again nervously.

At the look Gwen shot him he hastily continued, "well…it would seem that there is an assassin coming here to er….kill Arthur….or at least that is what one of King Odin's men told Uther."

Again neither of them noticed the slight widening, and panicked look on Henry's face—which was gone within the flash of a second. Gwen scrunched her eyebrows up in concern, of course there was an assassin out to get Arthur—the prince could not avoid trouble for anything.

"Is….is he a sorcerer?" Gwen asked in a hushed voice. To anyone who had not lived in Camelot, this might seem like an odd question to ask, but given the last few months and the number of magic wielders who had attempted to assassinate the prince; it was actually a rather logical jump.

She chalked up the slightly pinched expression on Merlin's face to the fact that he had, had several bad encounters with sorcerers since his arrival in Camelot. It was only to be expected that he wasn't the most fond of them….of course no matter how much Merlin disliked the sorcerer's, there was no comparing to Uther's hatred of 'the unnatural'- as the king called them.

What she hadn't been expecting was for Henry to insert himself into the conversation, "er….sorcerers?" he asked somewhat hesitantly.

Both Gwen and Merlin's focus zeroed in on him, where he stood looking slightly confused (although he was still glancing at Merlin frequently). Gwen started, before she remembered that he wasn't from around here and would likely not know about Camelot and its relationship (and history) with magic.

"Yes….given the King's strict and unwavering laws against magic and magic wielders, his son and heir, Prince Arthur has been the target to several attacks and assassination attempts by sorcerers in revenge for the wrongs they perceive Uther has done them" Gwen answered doing her best to answer any questions he might have, while not showing her own distaste for Uther and his ways.

"Ban on magic?" Henry asked again looking a little concerned. Gwen, for her part, brushed it off as the surprise she had often witnessed from foreigners over such things. Apparently magic was actually rather wide spread outside Avalon.

"Yes, anyone with magic or caught practicing it is to be executed" Merlin explained in an uncharacteristically monotone voice.

Henry seemed to pale slightly at this, but that fact went unnoticed as Gwen turned her attention back to Merlin, "so?" she asked to her unanswered question.

"No….well at least they don't think so….it shouldn't matter since the prince is gone on his hunting trip…." Merlin stressed the word gone, making Gwen want to roll her eyes. Subtly was not one of Merlin's strong traits. "You'll just have to take a few extra precautions with your house guest is all…." Merlin added sending Gwen one of his quirky grins.

It was then and there that Gwen made the connection—that she realized just why Henry's grin seemed so familiar….like she had seen it before.

"Merlin…." she said swinging her stare back and forth between where he and Henry stood—yes, there was some resemblance now that she was looking for it….the dark hair, the slim frames, the rather vibrant eyes….

"Yeah?" Merlin replied waiting for her query.

"What's your last name again?" Gwen asked, noting the way that Henry had his entire focus on the manservant and seemed to be holding his breath as he waited for Merlin to answer Gwen's question.

Merlin looked at her in confusion, "Emrys….why?"

Gwen heard a whoosh of breath leave Henry at the answer, she turned to face the boy she had met only half an hour ago, "Well, Henry it looks like you've found your brother."

-oo—

Harry wasn't exactly sure which of the two conflicting emotions he was currently feeling should take priority. He had hoped that once his soul piece was joined with its missing half, that he would actually understand things like emotions and feelings. Apparently, his Myror half, hadn't been any more emotionally intelligent then his Harry half had been, because once again, he was left confused and conflicted.

Part of him was dancing for joy over having actually found his half-brother (and really what was the chance of that happening? Apparently some of his old Potter luck had stuck with him), while the other part was a mix of terrified and annoyed. Annoyed; because said brother had all but up and vanished after Gwen made her not so tactful announcement, shooting Harry a hard to decipher look, before making some terrible, mumbled excuse and running away.

Harry, having still been in mild shock had just watched him go….not quite believing that his only living link to family was running as fast as he could in the opposite direction of him; typical. Finally, he was feeling a tad terrified, because he wanted this so badly that he wasn't sure what he would do if it did not turn out in the end.

Once his brain had restarted, he had wanted to go after Merlin to…..well, he wasn't really sure, but probably to at least explain why he had suddenly shown up out of the blue looking for the future all powerful wizard. As far as he could tell, Myror had never once looked into where his half brother and his half-brother's mother had gotten to….while Harry was a little abhorred by this fact, in the end it did work in his favor (he wouldn't have to worry about Merlin having met him when he had just been Myror, the psycho killer).

But just as he was about to race after the vanished teen, Gwen had stopped him…and looking back on it, probably wisely so. At the time he had been rather irritated with her for having 'outed' him in such a manner but the sheepish, guilty expression she had worn, had helped thaw his anger.

"Oh, Henry! I'm so sorry…I didn't mean to say that out loud, I'm always running off my mouth…." She had started to ramble, looking so contrite that Harry couldn't help but comfort her.

"Gwen….GWEN!" he had shouted, when the first time failed to catch her attention, "Guinevere….it's okay, really. It's fine. I would have told him anyway…um do you know where he might have gone? I should go talk to him, explain…." Harry had trailed off looking worriedly in the direction that Merlin had gone off in.

Gwen shuffled awkwardly, looking rather conflicted, "listen Henry….I'm not sure if you should…." She trailed off, but continued rather hurriedly at the face Harry gave her, "…I mean not now. I think that maybe you should wait a bit, give him some time to process it and come to you?" she suggested timidly, her eyes begging him to listen.

Every fiber of his being had wanted to disregard her words and go after Merlin in a Gryffindor-like manner, and he likely would have, had he still just consisted of his Harry half, but as he had said before he had changed. Changed enough to know that what Gwen was saying was probably smart, that he did not know 'Henry's' and Merlin's entire history, and that maybe-just maybe, he should go about this is a rational, rather than a rushed manner.

He wasn't about to let it go entirely however, and he had extracted a (rather reluctant) promise from Gwen that she would track down Merlin and have him come and meet Henry properly after the tournament was finished. Harry had wanted to meet him sooner but Gwen had convinced him that is would be wiser to wait until after all the hubris and stress associated with such a big event was over.

Hence, why he was now pacing restlessly in the tiny boarding room that he had managed to procure (by some odd miracle, he had found out that Myror had booked a room in Camelot just before he had been joined with Harry's half; while Harry hated knowing just why Myror had booked the room, he was not above using it for his own purpose).

He tried to feel some of the initial interest and excitement over getting to witness the jousting event in said tournament, but mainly he just wanted it to be over. Over, so that he would finally get to meet his brother for real….to get a chance to know Merlin, and for Merlin to get to know him; as he was now- not as Myror, or The boy who lived….just as himself: as Henry he suppose.

While at first, he had been a little worried over Merlin's quick departure, enough time had passed for him to talk himself out of his concerns. It only made sense that his brother might be a little shocked after meeting him in such a manner, anyone would need a little while to come to terms with the fact that their long lost (he assumed) brother had shown up on their doorstep. So, he could be patient.

He would go to watch the event and to see what Camelot had to offer. He needed to discover just what was up with this magical ban, and how it was possible that his brother- who in his past world had ended up being one of the most famous and revered wizards of all time- was living here, pretending not to be a sorcerer (and why). That, and he needed to find this prince, just to make sure that the man was still alive and breathing—if only for his own peace of mind.

So, yes he had things that he could do to keep himself occupied, (at least for a bit) until Merlin was ready to see him….

He just hoped that he wouldn't be waiting in vain.

-oo—

The most prominent feeling that Arthur was currently experiencing was relief….well that, and perhaps a small (ok, so large) amount of pride.

It was one thing to win fight after fight, challenge after challenge, as Crowned Prince Arthur, and quite another thing to win as 'unknown-unimportant fake knight'—not that anyone who had watched the jousting tournament was aware that the man who won, was anyone but the 'Sir William' he claimed to be. It was a rather nice (and as he mentioned before, appeasing) feeling to know that he had not just been getting by on the obligation of others, but that he actually had some skill to back up his position as Camelot's most 'fierce fighter.'

And yes, way back in the tiny part of his mind that he generally did his best to pretend did not exist, he recognized the fact that even a year ago he would likely not have cared either way. He refused however, to acknowledge the fact that his 'friendship'—again not a word that he would admit to using—with Merlin, maybe, just maybe, had humbled him somewhat. And that that was perhaps not an entirely bad thing. But once again, these were things he did his best to ignore.

And thankfully, he was ignoring them because of personal choice, rather than having no choice- like the feelings and thoughts he was pretending were nonexistent in regards to Gwen. Because despite how much he wanted to think, experience, and act on the small but growing attraction he felt towards Morgana's maid, he knew that it was an impossibility.

Oh sure, he could do what many nobles, kings and princes who found themselves in his position might do, (aka: sleep with said indentured servant and then get on with things…like finding an appropriate spouse to serve as his betrothed) but unlike them, (well, he was unlike them now) Arthur liked to think he was a man of honor. And as such, his conscience demanded that if he could not properly court and woe Guinevere, that he had no business lusting after her like a common scoundrel. Hence being forced to banish any feelings he had towards her-not that he was particularly successful in this endeavor but he was stubborn if nothing else. He would not let these horribly, inappropriate, feelings get the best of him; he was prince of Camelot after all (and okay, he may not have quite gotten over the pride thing just yet….).

But ignoring his confusing emotions in regards to those of much lower social status then he, he was at this point in a rather good mood…one that could only be made better by poking fun at Merlin (his servant was ever so amusing when he was irritated). Which was why he was currently trying to locate his absentee man servant (something that was sadly not all that unusual, Merlin had an astonishing talent for vanishing just when Arthur was in need of him).

Now, he had known Merlin for the better part of a year, and he had been fairly certain that he had a good grasp on his manservant's character and traits. The Merlin he knew was; kind, clumsy, often idiotic and foolish, but in his own way brave. Not on that list, were hotheaded, wrathful or cruel-which was why, seeing his servant act in such a manner, brought Arthur's purposeful strides towards him to a grinding halt.

So shocked was he at seeing Merlin's face flushed red in anger and his normally guileless blue eyes narrowed in a hateful glare, that Arthur more or less dismissed the person who was eliciting such a reaction from him, (or the fact that Guinevere appeared to be hovering anxiously only a few feet away from the pair) far to shocked to turn away from the display of rage in front of him. He absently registered the fact that the boy in front of Merlin looked vaguely familiar….with a shock of dark, black messy hair, a slim-almost-petite figure and uncommonly green eyes. Green eyes which were turned pleadingly towards his angry servant.

"….please I just wanted to meet you" the boy pleaded, his green eyes desperate for Merlin's….what? approval? Okay? Arthur wasn't sure, but he felt a little uncomfortable over the desperation he saw in them….and not the usual type of discomfort that he felt when he witnessed a peasant or accused sorcerer pleading with Uther for leniency. No, it was all together different, and he quickly placed it in the "not to think about or acknowledge' category.

Merlin didn't seem swayed in the slightest by the boy's words—which was rather odd if Arthur thought about it, Merlin was ALWAYS swayed by other's need; even the ones who are obviously just trying to garner his sympathy so that they could use Arthur's foolish servant's compassion against him. So, to see Merlin so cold and glacial….well, obviously the boy had done something truly terrible…. really, it was the only explanation. And again there was an odd twinge in Arthur's chest, if he didn't know better, he would say that it resembled grief…..but no, that made zero sense. Hmmm….apparently posing as a commoner had messed with his mind more than he had thought….maybe Gaius had a remedy?

His attention was once again drawn back to his manservant, who by now, was sporting a sneer—a sneer! An honest to god sneer! He didn't even know that Merlin was capable of that expression—"Yes, well I did not want to meet you. I haven't seen or heard anything about or from you in the last seventeen years…it hasn't bothered me so far, and that is not about to change"

Arthur registered a gasp, though he's not sure if it came from the boy or Gwen, though he does see the teen flinch as though slapped- an expression resembling if not a kicked, then a thoroughly flogged puppy on his face.

"But…" the boy begins, his voice faltering at the glare Merlin sends him before starting up again, "but…we are brothers….family" Arthur thought he heard him say. But no, that can't be! Arthur would have known if his manservant had family outside of Hunith….sure, he might not have exactly spent a great deal of time talking to Merlin about well, Merlin, but surely he would have known something like that….right?

The look that his manservant sends the boy—no his brother (?), was one of utter contempt and loathing, "I have never had a brother nor do I need one. Is that all you wanted?"

The green eyed boy stood there, looking so utterly lost, that Arthur almost went over to him, (to do what he was not really sure- not hug him surely, that was far to womanly for a manly man like Arthur-but to, to do something) but he stops himself at the last second. If what the boy said was true, and he was indeed Merlin's brother, then this was a family matter. Arthur did not know the history between them, or what had happened to make his servant so hostile, but he does know that Merlin is one of the kindest people he knew, and he would not act so cruelly without a good reason. No, he may be the Prince of Camelot but some things were not his business—plus, if he waited a bit, he might be able to wheedle the information out of Merlin later…patience was a virtue after all.

"I-I…" Merlin's brother stammered slightly, before it seemed that he accepted his defeat, his shoulders slumping, "…yeah, that was it" he said, so quietly that Arthur wasn't sure they were meant to hear him.

"Fine. You can find the way out" Merlin stated shortly, before spinning on his heels and marching resolutely back towards the town center, (completely ignoring the fact that his master was standing barely a foot away—the nerve!) leaving his brother staring after him dejectedly.

Arthur turns back to look at the boy, not really sure what he should do. He was assuming, that when Merlin told the boy he could show himself the way out, that he was talking about Camelot as a whole, and not just this particular street….he still felt as though he should say some words of comfort, something to make that utterly heartbroken look on the teens face less intense, but he has never really been good with emotions or comforting people. Thankfully, it seemed as though Gwen was going to step up to the challenge.

"Oh, Henry! I'm sorry….I don't understand why he's being like that…. he's usually such a sweetheart…" the maid said, looking partly puzzled but another, almost larger part; suspicious.

The boy—or Henry as Gwen called him, seemed to shake himself from his daze enough to offer Gwen a slightly watery looking smile, "it's fine Gwen…I-I'm fine" he coughed slightly, opening up his side satchel and starting to dig through it, "thank-you though…it—it was a long shot to begin with, but I had to try…." He looked again in the direction that Merlin had left in and sighed.

"Listen, I know he's not likely to change his mind…but…well, if he does, could you give him this?" Henry asked, handing Gwen something that Arthur couldn't quite see—though he could have sworn it looked like a deerskin pouch.

"um.." Gwen seemed hesitant to take it, "I don't know…"

"Please" Henry pleaded, grasping one of her hands, "please…I-I just, please. It's nothing harmful or anything it-well… it's a way he can get a-hold of me if he ever changes his mind. Please he's the only family I have left" he added the last bit softly, staring off into the distance instead of meeting her eyes, as though ashamed of his neediness.

"I—okay" Gwen agreed, still a tad wary but a look of understanding shining in her brown eyes. "I will give it to him…but Henry" she paused a moment until he looked up at her, "Don't—don't get your hopes up okay? He can be very stubborn"

Henry shot her something closer to a genuine smile and nodded, "thank-you…really, for everything. It was a pleasure meeting you Guinevere" he gave her a crooked half grin before bowing to kiss her knuckles eliciting a giggle and a blush from Gwen.

Arthur was surprised to find himself turning away from the display with another strange twinge in his gut: one that he knew all too well; jealousy. Which shouldn't have been all that surprising, considering his unacknowledged feelings over Gwen—the troubling part however, was that he wasn't so sure that he was feeling it over Gwen.

Yes, he needed to see Gaius straight away….there was definitely something wrong with him.

Notes:

*If you are interested in the social rankings and statuses in the middle ages I recommend checking out this website as it has an excellent explanation regarding titles and there meanings! portals/0/medieval%

Chapter title: taken from the children's story titled, "The story of Ferdinand'. A story of a bull that does not want to fight.