Hi all! so here is the next chapter...and it wasn't even that long of a wait (yay me!) Thank to everyone who took the time to review, every word is very much appreciated! Things continue to unravel. Let me know what you think!

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Chapter 13: One for Sorrow: Part 2

And above all, watch with glittering eyes the whole world around you because the greatest secrets are always hidden in the most unlikely places. Those who don't believe in magic will never find it."
― Roald Dahl

Merlin allowed the noise and revelry surrounding him to swell past untouched as he nursed the same drink he had been sipping all evening. He was content for the time to sit back and observe the chaos taking place—it allowed him time to try and make sense of what he had been, and still was for that matter, witnessing.

For once he wasn't pulled reluctantly into a drinking game with Gwaine, or forced to deal with Arthur's poor judgment and rather lame jokes at his expense, because, for once, their attention was completely focused on someone else. And even more surprisingly, Merlin couldn't find it in himself to resent that fact; or even the person at the center of it all.

When Arthur had cornered him (ok, not really cornered since he had been basically following the prince around—not by choice mind you, it was sort of part of his job description) and basically ordered him to come with; insisting that a night of drinking and fun was what everyone needed, he had gone without too much of a fight.

He hadn't missed the not so subtle hints that he should invite some of his own friends-or rather his brother either. Though he had pretended not to pick up on them (partially because he wasn't sure what he was suppose to say or acknowledge in regards to his brother and Arthur's strange and not completely understood relationship and partially because it amused him to watch Arthur's irritation grow with his feigned obliviousness—he could be petty like that).

Despite not acknowledging Arthur's odd hints (because as he had mentioned before, he did not understand what was going on between the prince and his half brother. Oh, he knew that Henry had a crush on the prince… at least he was pretty sure he did, but he hadn't quite figured out where Arthur's interests lay with regards to his brother. At times he could swear that they were the same as Henry's, yet that idea seemed far too ludicrous. Plus last he had understood Arthur was still pining for Gwen….so yes, still a little confused in truth), Henry had shown up at the tavern.

Of course it appeared that he was there under duress if the manner in which Gwaine pulled, pushed and basically shoved the smaller man towards their table was anything to go by. Merlin knew that no one, especially not Henry had bought the surprised, "oh! Look there's Arthur and the rest of the guys! We should go and join them" line that had spilled out of Gwaine's oh-so- innocent eyes (if there was something that Gwaine was definitely not, it was innocent).

Unfortunately for his brother, by the time that he had gotten his brain working enough to make a renewed attempt at escape, it had been far too late and he had forced into a seat between Gwaine and Orvelle, with no room to move. Merlin had actually pitted the man, considering how very uncomfortable he appeared at being there. And he was pretty sure that it wasn't due to the knights' presence.

"Meeeerlin fetch some more drinks would you?" Arthur slurred/ordered hoisting his still full mug up.

Merlin sent the sloshed prince an annoyed glare and was just about to refute his order when another voice interrupted.

"I'll help!" and just like that Merlin was being dragged away from the rowdy table of knights and towards the bar by his fairly drunk half brother. Who despite being sloshed, looked far to relieved to have escaped the intense staring contest he had previously been having with said prince—even if only momentarily.

As they stood side by side waiting for the barman to free up, silence stretching between them, Merlin debated on what he should say. He knew that the best choice would be to remain silent—he might not be tipsy but his brother certainly was and it was never the best idea to try holding a meaningful conversation when one half was having trouble standing without swaying—but when had Merlin ever listened to common sense?

Plus over the last few weeks, with the increased time he had been spending with his brother, (something that he was feeling increasingly guilty over—mainly because of why he had started to do so) he had (reluctantly) come to admire and even respect the younger man. He had never thought when he had started his scheme that he would actually come to not only tolerate Henry but actually like him.

But he had; and now he wasn't sure what he should do about it.

With every trip around Camelot, every potion helped brewed, every awkward but familial meal shared he found the resentment he had harbored because of the past had lessoned and the fondness because of who Henry was had increased. It was to the point where Merlin caught himself thinking of Henry as a friend, one who he hadn't just befriended to manipulate and use.

And it was eating him up inside.

He had even considered just telling Henry everything—just pulling him aside and admitting his less than stellar intentions, confessing and bearing his soul. It had to be better than letting the guilt continue to fester. But then common sense would kick in again and he would remember all the reasons why he couldn't tell Henry the truth (him not knowing about magic, completely ruining the shaky friendship they had managed to build so far, and having to admit to consorting with the illegal dragon beneath Camelot, were just a few of those reasons).

So he swallowed down his doubts and continued on. But that didn't mean that he couldn't look at his brother in true friendship now. He knew that he may have started the whole 'get to know you better' thing because the dragon insisted, but that didn't necessarily mean that he couldn't continue it because he actually liked spending time with his brother. How or why it started shouldn't matter in the end, should it?

Merlin didn't know and that bothered him.

Regardless of why he continued to get closer to his brother he felt that he owed him, at the very least, a bit of frank honesty (not about him of course…but about Arthur). If he could help protect his sibling from even a little bit of heartbreak down the road, well then, it was sort of making amends…wasn't it? At least it would be a start.

Which was exactly why he decided to ignore the little voice telling him to keep his mouth shut and turned to Henry instead.

"Hey Henry….can I ask you something?" he found himself blurting out—thankfully fairly quietly.

Henry's slightly bleary green eyes swung towards him, blinking a few times as though he was trying to make sense of what Merlin was asking him. After a moment and several more slow motion blinks he nodded his head, the motion overdone and causing him to stumble slowly before regaining his balance, "shoot"

Okay, maybe the man was more far gone then he had previously thought if he was answering in words that made absolutely no sense in the given context. Why would he shoot? Bizarre…. Merlin shook off his momentary pause and decided to wager forth, taking the way that Henry was staring at him expectantly as permission in itself.

"I…um….ok, so I'm not really sure how to ask this so I will just come out and say it…..I know"

Merlin wanted to hit himself in the head. He had no idea why it had come out like that….what he had wanted to ask was what was going between Arthur and Henry, he had wanted to help ease the way by letting Henry know that he already suspected his crush on the prince and that he wouldn't judge him on it (well too harshly…it was Arthur after all. He may have only recently started to like his brother but he had hoped that Henry would have had better taste then Arthur. The man could be an utter prat; and yes he was ignoring the hypocrisy of him saying that about anyone else). Sadly his mind-mouth filter had not improved any since arriving in Camelot.

He forced himself to turn his attention back to the man in front of him who was staring at him with far more lucid eyes, his face an ash grey. "KK-know what?" he asked-or rather squeaked out, turning his entire body back towards the bar searching for the barkeep. If he thought he was going to get out of this long coming conversation through interruption well, he had another thing coming.

"I know about you and Arthur" Merlin stated a tad more forcefully as he placed one hand on Henry's shoulder to keep him from turning away completely. And again—that did not come out how he wanted it to….oh well; too late for regrets.

"I-I don't know what you are talking about" Henry managed to wrench his shoulder from Merlin's grip, looking equal parts embarrassed, scared and angry.

The emotions playing across his face gave Merlin pause but he once again shrugged mentally, contributing them to the fact that Henry was ashamed of having his crush recognized for what it was. He hadn't meant to turn this into something nasty….no, he had just wanted to let Henry know that he didn't have to be completely alone with this.

Sure, his past behavior wasn't exactly paving the way for his brother to confide his deepest darkest secrets in him, but Merlin was determined to change that. At that exact moment he came to the decision that he was going to ignore how their relationship first started and work towards being a real friend to his brother—that included becoming someone he could confide in. It wasn't healthy to keep such unrequited feelings buried.

True, his brother would likely have to learn to live with them until they passed—but he didn't have to be alone over it. He could tell Merlin….talking helped. At least that was Gaius and his mother always told him.

"Henry" he said pointedly, hoping that the boy would drop the façade and just admit the truth-the liquid courage Henry had been drinking all night had to cut in at some point….right?

Henry looked towards the exit of the tavern as though he was contemplating on whether or not he would be able to escape before Merlin or worse one of the others caught up with him. After a long moment the fight seemed to drain from him and his shoulders slumped. He turned his body completely away from Merlin giving the barkeep (who had finally noticed them) a gesture indicating what they wanted before he answered his voice quiet enough that Merlin almost missed it.

"Who else knows?"

Merlin blinked at this slightly surprised by the question but answered it none the less, doing his best to reassure the obviously embarrassed teen, "no one…at least I'm pretty sure it was just me….I saw you…" he was going to continue on. State that he saw Henry staring at Arthur at the banquet but was interrupted by the thud of several flagons being set heavily on the bar in front of him. Neither of the boys made any move to grab them.

"Please don't tell anyone" was the next request—no plea, the fell from his brother's lips.

Again he was surprised by the wording that Henry used. He would have thought that he would have asked that he specifically didn't tell Arthur—the subject of his crush, but once again he shrugged it off. He was thrilled that his brother had finally told him (and alright, he had basically forced him too but still….it was progress…wasn't it?) and he readily agreed, placing what he hoped was a comforting (and understanding) hand on his brother's shoulder.

Henry tensed at the contact but didn't try to move away. Yes progress, definitely.

He was about to say something else-what, he wasn't sure…just something—but he was once again interrupted though this time not by the barkeep but by Gwaine, who had apparently gotten tired of waiting for the drink refills and had decided to come investigate what was taking them so long.

Merlin wanted to glare at his friend but resisted the urge—perhaps trying to hold a serious and heartfelt conversation with his brother while at the local tavern hadn't been the best thought out plan. Though the loud atmosphere and constant interruptions were tempered by the fact that the tavern was the only place where his brother would be drunk enough to even consider letting down those walls….even if just a little.

"Hey! There you guys are! What happened, did you get lost?" he asked his voice loud enough to cause Merlin to cringe though his brother smiled at the interloper easily enough. He once again seemed relieved to have an exit from his current conversation. Merlin was starting to get the feeling that Henry was a bit of an avoider.

Merlin decided to give up for the time being and quickly picked up the tray of drinks following the other two carefully back towards the table, all while doing his best to avoid dumping any. He sent Gwaine a brief dirty look at having come all the way over but not offering to help carry any (Merlin was the clumsiest out of everyone here…how it was a good idea that he be the one to carry the drinks back, he didn't know) but the look went entirely unnoticed by his friend.

His friend who seemed to be just as drunk as everyone else here-and apparently rather affectionate. It was something that he had long known about Gwaine; that mixing him with alcohol always resulted in a overly friendly knight….it was a bit of a running joke that the man would hit on anything with two legs when he was drunk (and some swore that four legs was not entirely out of the picture). So he really wasn't that surprised to see the man practically draping himself over Henry in a way too intimate to be just friends kind of way.

He wasn't surprised, so he hadn't expected for anyone else to be either. At most he had expected a few lewd comments and sniggers before some poor knight (whoever had been placed on Gwaine babysitting duties for the night) came over and untangled him from Merlin's perplexed looking brother.

He was surprised however, when instead of a friendly well meaning shove Arthur himself, was pushing Gwaine roughly off of Henry and delivering a sucker punch to the drunk knight's face.

-o—

He wasn't drunk…

Okay, so that was a lie….he was a drunk, at least a little, but he was not so far gone as too not see what was going down in front of him. Not that he was sober enough to understand it completely; then again, even if he hadn't been drinking that night he was pretty sure he would have no idea what the hell was up with Arthur.

Because the angry, yelling idiot who had just punched Gwaine right in the bloody nose was not the Arthur he had come to know over the past few months. Then again, hadn't he already established that maybe he didn't know Arthur as well as he thought he did? –guess this was sort of proving that point for him.

Harry shook his head trying to rid himself of the confused stupor he had fallen into whilst staring at the fighting buffoons in front of him completely gobsmacked, he did so just in time to catch the tail end of Arthur's angry statement.

"….hands off!"

And WTF? Honestly was this really happening right now?! Because if Arthur thought Harry was just going to sit back meekly and let the man act like a complete jackass, not only to his mates, but to Harry himself, well he obviously didn't know him as well as he thought he did!

It sounded (and rightly so) like the idiot was trying to stake a claim—a claim that as of this moment he had absolutely no right to stake (not to mention hadn't Arthur just recently broken up with him because it was not safe for him to be seen with Harry? What happened to that overwhelming need of his to 'protect' him?—and no, that last bit was not thought with any bitterness…).

And maybe Harry's infamous temper, mixed with righteous indignation, coupled with a few pitchers of whatever was in those rather deep bottomed jugs led him to doing what he did next.

Which would be marching up to the crowned prince of Camelot and punching him in the nose.

Promptly followed by him spinning around on his heels and stumble/weaving himself out of the bar. He thought that it had all been deliciously dramatic—a real cinematic moment to say the least. Of course, once he and everyone else were sober he might not reach the same conclusion (Especially since Arthur had only added to the moment by doing the cliché 'Henry! Wait!' thing—which Harry had completely ignored).

Then again, maybe he would, after all it had felt pretty awesome to hit Arthur. The man more than deserved it.

He had mental ground on about Arthur's nerve, trying to shred any and all longing in himself to go back and see what the man had to say for himself, the entire march back to his living quarters. Though his anger was not even starting to abate by the time he slammed his door shut. He knew that he should have ignored Gwaine's instance that he come tonight.

He knew that nothing good would come from sticking him and Arthur in a room together. How could it? What with Harry's resentful longing and Arthur's guilt ridden glances…..and he had been right.

And no, he didn't blame Gwaine for what happened….at least not really. He knew as well as anyone (as well as Arthur should have known) that the knight hadn't meant anything by his over friendliness. It was just who drunk Gwaine was-and even if he had, what business was it of Arthurs?

The prince was the one that had broken up with him after all, not the other way around! Not to mention he hadn't wasted anytime in getting his own hands all over Princess Vivian (and ok, maybe the last was a little unfair considering the curse and everything but still! It wasn't as though anything was going to happen between him and Gwaine. Arthur should have been smart enough to recognize that!)

So yes, he was pretty pissed off at the moment….but mostly, mostly, he was confused. Oh so very confused.

Slumping down onto his hard pallet, Harry tried to focus his thoughts enough to decide what he should do. He spent just as long trying to pull off his boots.

In the end he gave up on doing either and allowed himself to fall back, darkness descending even before his head hit the pitiful thing he called a pillow.

He certainly wasn't aware of the sound of his door creaking open not only five minutes later, nor was he aware of the soft sound of leaving footsteps which followed.

-oo—

Finally! Finally he was back in control!….well at least for the moment.

It had been far too long since the last time, and while these brief moments of lucidity were coming more and more often as time passed, they were still far to spread out in his opinion. There were so many things he wanted to do, things that needed stealing…..throats he that needed slitting….. But all that would have to wait.

He had more important priorities at the moment. And he needed to get them taken care of while he was still at the reigns.

It was a good thing that Harry had let down his guard enough to drink—Myror had found that it definitely made pushing his other halves conscience to the back far easier….plus it also helped misplace blame after when Harry couldn't remember anything. Those black spots in his memory were much easier to self justify when there was alcohol to take the fall.

Perfect for Myror.

He ducked quietly into an alcove at the sound of approaching steps—not willing to get caught up or out at this time of night. The fewer people who saw him, the less questions Harry would be faced with in the morning; thus the less suspicion and worry he would garner from his other half. Harry was not really aware of just how present Myror was these days, and he wanted to keep it that way. For now at least.

Myror felt his lips pull down at the thought of the half soul he was sharing this body with….well he suppose (if he were to believe Harry's thoughts) not the, but his half soul. Since apparently Harry was simply the other half of a broken whole. At wasn't that a bit shocking?

Myror had at first refused to believe it….but with time, and a cooling of temper he had to admit that it was a plausible explanation. Despite how much he resented his other half he couldn't deny that he did feel more 'complete' now that Harry was present. It didn't mean that Myror liked him any better though.

Okay, don't get him wrong; while it was true that he wasn't exactly a fan of 'Harry,' it was more the fact that Harry was the one with the majority of control day to day. If it had been he who was aware and present nearly 24/7, he would likely have no problem with the other half. Harry did, after all, help stabilize his moods and clear his thinking.

It didn't make everything okay….but Myror would. He had been plotting and planning during his moments of lucidity over the past few months. He had an idea of how to reverse the tables, to swipe Harry's mental feet out from under him and give him the advantage.

Plus it would be better for both of them this way. Harry was far too soft to be allowed to remain in control. Admittedly the other half had brought a score of amazing skills and power to the table but the man was far to 'nice' to truly use any of it. Harry had proven time and again that he would allow himself to be used and abused by those weaker and far less deserving then he.

Once Myror had his say that was going to change.

Starting with that asshole of a prince. Myror had spent the countless hours fuming over how Arthur treated Harry (and thus by association him!) and he was not going to allow for it to continue. He would get his revenge…not only on Arthur but on all those who had dared underestimate them.

And he had the perfect plan on how to do so; he just needed a bit of outside help was all. Thankfully there was a person posed perfectly to be able to provide such help. It was that person whom he was currently hunting for as a matter of fact. Mordred would make the perfect ally.

The teen should be easy enough to convince. The allure of shared power and added strength would be more than enough to ensure that the ex-druid held his tongue and provided the potion that Myror needed.

It was a little annoying in truth…having to rely on another. Myror had the knowledge to make it himself after all, sadly he didn't have the time. For he never knew when Harry was going to retake control and he couldn't risk tipping off his other half on his plan should Harry wake up to find a half finished brew.

The man just might recognize the potion for what it was….and that would never do.

So no, he would have to rely on Mordred's help for the time being.

But soon…..soon he wouldn't need to hide: least of all from his other half. Soon, he would be the one with all the control.

-o—

He was late. Of course he was late; Morgana couldn't help but think bitterly as she basically wore a path in the forest floor with her restless pacing.

He could probably sense her burning desire to grill him for answers (not to mention the equally combustible anger that had been building in her since her last conversation with her sister) and was doing the cowardly thing and avoiding her. She wouldn't put it past him.

She hadn't realized until she listened to Morgause's words- doubts and questions springing to life-just how much she had come to depend on her 'friend.' To find out that he had been lying to her from the start hurt far more then she thought it would—definitely more than it should.

Still, she would hold off assuming anything just yet, she would wait to get answers from the boy himself. If nothing else, she owed him that—he had helped her greatly with her magic and control after all.

And finally she heard the sound of her friend approaching, it was a good thing too, because she was literally seconds away from losing it and tracking him down herself. That would not have ended well, especially since in her rage and betrayal, who knows what secrets she might have let slip?

"Morgana! Sorry I'm late…..I don't know what happened—I never oversleep! Anyway…sorry…" Henry panted out between gasping breaths as he hunched over, using a nearby tree for support. She almost smiled at the endearing sight he made; key word: Almost.

"Henry…." She returned his greeting carefully keeping her face blank of emotion, "Or should I say Myror?"