Prince Arthur tried to be a functioning member of the castle for the rest of the day. He went to his knights' training sessions, attempted to read some documents his father had given him, and went out to the training grounds on his own time to release some of his pent-up energy. Nothing helped, and when he was disarmed by the newest knight in front of the entire company, he retired to his bedchambers to sulk, humiliated and ashamed. Beaten by a green boy. He had to get himself together, and quickly before his father noticed, but every time he thought he might be back to normal, his hands would tingle again, and Gaius' words would echo in the deepest recesses of his mind.

"Protecting me? My ass," Arthur grumbled, pacing around his room. "Only person he's been protecting is himself."

But…

Merlin had always been the first to say that magic may be involved when things went awry in Camelot, and what sorcerer would admit that his own people were in the wrong? He readily accepted the use of magic, and he always seemed to know exactly what to do and where to go in order to fix the problem. Arthur had chalked up his knowledge of the evil arts to Gaius' wisdom, but now he understood that Merlin could sense the magic, and he already had a grasp on what measures needed to be taken in order to counteract it. He'd always known what to do, and it was true that a series of lucky accidents had begun forming around Arthur whenever Merlin was nearby; men fighting him would trip suddenly, or lose their grips on their swords and send them flying. Fortuitous rustling would occur in bushes far off when they were being tracked by unwanted company, and poisons meant for Arthur's lips instead found Merlin's.

A door flew open, slamming into the wall and causing Arthur to leap a good several feet into the air. If he had been a cat, his hair would have stood on end. However, he was not a feline, and he whipped around, scowling every bit like the aggravated human prince he was. Guinevere was in his doorway again, panting like she had been earlier, but wearing an almost panicked expression.

"Arthur," she said, holding a stitch in her side. "The King-he wants-to see you."

"Now?" Arthur griped.

"Now," she confirmed. "Something-something about Merlin."

A lead weight dropped in Arthur's stomach, but he found his feet moving after Guinevere automatically. She gave him a puzzled look, but turned and began striding briskly down the corridor toward the Great Hall.

Arthur's mind was reeling. What was he going to do? His servant was a sorcerer. Sorcery was outlawed. He was bound by law and by status to report Merlin to the king. But could he do that? Why did the very thought make him ill? He was furious with the boy for lying to him, furious that he had magic, but did he want his servant to die for that lie? Gaius had spoken truly: Merlin bore nothing but goodwill toward him, though how that was possible was anybody's guess, and he had been an awfully huge help to Arthur many times before.

This brought up another question: Did Uther already know? Guinevere had said that his father wanted to see him, and it had something to do with Merlin. Did that mean that the king already knew the serving boy's true identity? Or was it something entirely different?

Arthur's palms were sweating profusely by the time they reached the doors to the Great Hall, and he found that the lump from the previous night had returned to his throat, making it impossible to swallow. Guinevere cast him a sympathetic look, then opened the doors for him.

The congregation in the hall was small, at least. A handful of knights stood to one side, and to the other...Arthur looked away. To the other, Merlin was standing, leaning heavily on Gaius' old shoulder, his skin the color of old ash. Uther was sitting imperiously on his throne, looking at his son with the detached gaze that came so easily to him. His face seemed to be made of stone.

"You wanted to see me, Father?" said Arthur as he came forward, taking pride in the fact that his voice did not waver.

Uther straightened up and gestured to his servant.

"Is there anything you wish to tell me, Arthur?" he said coldly. "Regarding your servant, I mean."

Arthur clasped his hands behind his back to hide their trembling as he glanced over at Merlin. He wished he hadn't. The boy's brilliant eyes were glazed over from the pain of his wounds, but they still communicated a clear message, one that Arthur could not pretend to misunderstand. Please, don't tell them. The crown prince looked back at his father, swallowed past that lump of ice, and shook his head.

"I don't think so, Sire," he said cooly. He couldn't do it. He couldn't turn Merlin in, he just couldn't. He owed a great deal to the young man, and he paid his debts.

Uther raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure?" he checked.

"I am," Arthur confirmed.

Uther sat back in his chair morosely.

"Ser Leon has informed me that your servant boy went missing two days ago," Uther said curtly. "And that you went looking for him."

Arthur blinked.

"I did," he said, standing up a little straighter.

"And you could not find him."

"That is true."

"And that you sent a party of knights out to search for him after your failure. Is that true?"

"It is."

Uther scowled. "You would weaken the forces of Camelot to search for a lowly servant? Don't you understand yet that Camelot must be at full strength? We are teetering on the brink of war with the sorcerers, Arthur!"

The prince did not flinch, even when his father's voice rose to a roar.

"Every life that lives within these walls has equal worth, Father," he said calmly. "I would not let Merlin die out there, no matter what."

"He is a servant, Arthur, easily replaced," Uther snapped.

"Yet if he was a knight, you would have sent a search party out yourself," Arthur noted. "Every man, woman, and child in Camelot is valuable, and I would not let a single one die just because they do not wear a knight's armor or carry a knight's sword."

"You are a fool, Prince Arthur," the king growled. "When will you learn that your beliefs cannot come before the safety of the kingdom? Whatever you feel for servants like him, you cannot let them interfere with the protection of Camelot!"

"The people of Camelot are my friends," said Arthur strongly. "And the servants like him are as well. I will never let a man die if I know I can save him. Every man deserves to be protected."

Uther scowled. "Perhaps I should find you a new servant, then," he said angrily. "One that you would not risk the kingdom for."

"I just told you," sighed Arthur. "It does not matter what man or woman you give me. I will protect them all. The people of Camelot deserve that much."

Uther ran a hand over his lined face, and then waved his son away.

"There is no getting through to you," he groaned. "Leave me, and know that if you ever do something so foolish again, there will be serious repercussions."

Arthur bowed deeply. "Yes, my king."

"This council is dismissed."

Leon and the other knights-all of whom Arthur recognized as belonging to Merlin's search party-left first, Arthur walking closely behind them. He could feel Merlin's eyes boring holes into the back of his head, but this was not the place nor was it the time to talk about his foolish act of selflessness.

Arthur was sitting on a stool in Gaius' study when the old man returned, nearly dragging Merlin behind him. That short little trip had clearly put too much strain on the young man, who was white as a sheet and only half conscious. However tired he was, though, when he saw Arthur his face split into a wide grin.

"Thank you, Arthur," he said, voice tremulous. Arthur gave him an empty look, and Merlin's face fell.

"I just lied to my father's face to protect a sorcerer," Arthur said bluntly. "Don't thank me for that."

"Sire, you did not lie," said Gaius gently.

"I didn't tell him the truth. It's all the same," the prince snapped.

The room was silent. Then-

"I haven't changed, Arthur."

The prince looked around. Merlin had fixed him with an earnest stare, his brilliant eyes shining fiercely. It was true that he certainly looked no different. Same dark hair, same large ears, same goofy smile. But now Arthur saw something else, something like a shadow sitting in the same place as Merlin, like a transparent ghost, and it wore a cruel smile, and its eyes glowed a poisonous yellow. He looked away.

"I'm still the same person," Merlin stressed when Arthur appeared not to be listening. "I'm still me."

"And who is that, exactly?" Arthur wondered. "Who are you, Merlin? Because clearly I don't know."

Merlin frowned, but the prince still wasn't looking at him. He was looking down at his hands, fingers clasped tightly together.

"I'm your servant," Merlin said simply. "And you're an idiot."

Arthur looked around at that, his eyes sparking with a hint of fire. Merlin smirked, and Arthur realized that the boy had been looking for such a reaction. His lips twitched before he could stop them.

"I polish your armor and take care of your horses and carry all of your junk because you don't want to," Merlin continued, looking Arthur full in the face. "I sharpen your sword and clean your chambers. I cook for you, mend your clothes for you, and start a fire in the hearth when you whine about your room being cold.

"I treat your wounds, nearly die looking for answers when you piss off someone else with magic, and never leave your side. I say what no one else does, I challenge you, I tell you that you're wrong. I do the things you need, I tell you the things you need to hear, even though you throw things at me when I do."

Arthur's smile grew a little in spite of himself, and so did Merlin's.

"I'm your friend, Arthur," said the boy softly. "Just your friend. That is all I have ever been, and that isn't going to change anytime soon."

The prince glanced at Gaius, his smile lingering. The old man smiled himself, and then discreetly left them alone, saying something about taking Uther a potion for an old injury. When he was gone, Arthur turned to Merlin, solemn once more.

"So…" he said hesitantly.

"So?"

"Will."

Merlin blanched and said nothing.

"He wasn't a sorcerer." Not a question. Merlin shook his head anyway. "He didn't use magic. You did." Merlin nodded.

Arthur sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He rose to his feet, and Merlin did the same automatically, but he rose too quickly, and all blood rushed from his face. Arthur caught him as he swayed, chuckling a little, then hoisted him over his shoulder.

"H-hey!" Merlin protested, thumping Arthur on the back. "Put me down!"

"Can't have you falling over and cracking your skull now, can we?" Arthur snorted, and took him to his room.

"Ouch!" Merlin hissed when his head hit the doorframe.

"Oops. Sorry," said the prince, not sounding it in the least. Merlin scowled grumpily, but Arthur ignored his attitude, setting him very carefully on his bed. When he pulled back, the dark haired boy was pouting like a child, but Arthur ignored that.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Arthur sighed, sitting in the wicker chair at his bedside. Merlin raised an eyebrow at Arthur in silence, and the blonde young man felt his ears burn as he realized the stupidity of the question. "Never mind."

Merlin watched him anxiously while Arthur tried to think of something else to say.

"Gaius."

"What about him?"

"He said he gave you that book. How long has he known?"

Merlin's mouth curled, amused. "Since I got here. I saved his life with it before we'd even met each other."

Arthur sighed. "Of course you did. Dare I ask how many times you've apparently saved me?"

Merlin grinned. "For the sake of your pride, probably not the best idea."

The prince groaned, and they lapsed back into silence. Merlin fiddled absent-mindedly with his neckerchief, and Arthur made due with looking down at his hands again.

"So what now?" asked Merlin.

Arthur glanced up. "Hm?"

"What now?" he repeated.

The prince blinked, and cast his gaze to Merlin's bedroom door. What now? Wasn't that the million-dragon question? Without really thinking about the answer, Arthur opened his lips, and for what felt like the hundredth time in the past few days, spoke first and agreed with his decision after.

"Now, you'll have to hide that book someplace safer than my chambers."