A Day of Tears and Truths

At the Tavern...

Gwaine was a great friend. The best. He was the bestest friend anyone, especially a magical misfit could ever have. And wouldn't you know how lucky anyone could be to even know Gwaine? Gwaine's such a wonderfully loyal friend. No one deserves Gwaine. Gwaine's so good. About the magic though, he didn't know it. He knew about the friend part, because Merlin had been telling him that over and over while hugging his dear friend and rubbing a wet cheek into a well trimmed and handsome beard. Words of friendship and regret bubbled out of the secret Warlock last hour or so as Gwaine tried to drown the warlock's sorrows. He didn't know about the magical part and that was why he was so confused because Merlin kept saying, "I'm sorry I'm such a lousy friend to you, Gwaine. I'm...I'm not worthy of such a great friend. I'm awful. I'm … I'm so sorry."

The knights were used to Gwaine buying drinks. He always tried his best to liquidize both happiness and sorrow. He'd been trying for years to get Merlin to have more than just a responsible amount of alcoholic fortification, but the boy always had work to do for somebody. Merlin never seemed to stop working and the knight's joked that he was probably saving all his money to buy his own kingdom some day – since he never seemed to spend very much at all.

It was an unspoken rule that Gwaine was there for anyone who needed him, but to any one who might be watching - he always displayed a soft spot for the Prince's manservant.

It was surprising to see Merlin at the tavern tonight. There was no way that his normal amount of duties hadn't doubled. With the King ill, Uther still had visitors and it was up to Arthur to manage everything. Lord Aggravaine had come to assist Arthur, but from a knight's point of view – the man just wasn't that helpful. The kingdom was in a constant buzz of political movement and reassurances that Camelot was doing well. Arthur was handling the pressure. Uther might recover. Camelot was well defended. Arther had been well prepared for this. Camelot was still financially stable. Arthur knew what he was doing and he did have his uncle there to help juggle who to smile at and who to ignore and for how long.

Uther requested Arthur's presence like a child would demand it's parent. He wanted hugs and to hear his son say words of devotion. He wanted to hear that Arthur was still his son and that he hadn't decided to join the magical community and start living in a hovel with some druid.

The knights knew that Arthur had been placing more and more pressure on Merlin, and while the skinny servant was good-natured and pleasant – they thought that it was a bit much for one person to handle. Merlin didn't do any extra complaining. That doesn't mean he did not do his usual amount of moaning, but he wasn't showing signs of – well having a nervous break down. Therefore, no one said anything about it. There wasn't a reason to say anything. Camelot was functioning and even if it was running a little bumpy at least they weren't going on sorcerer head hunts every other day.

The angelic looking, Leon at first had been amused as a depressed and red-eyed Merlin had been dragged into the tavern by Gwaine. The tall skinny young man looked a little lost and as if he should be holding Gwaine's hand in a "my big brother brought me in here don't hurt me" kind of way. Leon had never seen Merlin look timid before and had just written it off as someone is having a very bad day and Gwaine has once again come to the rescue. It wasn't the first time Gwaine had drug someone to the tavern and it wouldn't be the last.

It wasn't until later on when Percival, the giant of a man that he was, had nudged him not-so-gently in the ribs to point to the corner of the tavern where Gwaine and Merlin were drinking alone that Leon had begun to sincerely worry about Merlin. From the way Merlin was behaving, he hadn't accidentally rubbed a hole in a boot or spilled ink on a speech. No, the boy looked defeated. Gwaine's had moved his chair over so that Merlin could cry on his shoulder. The fun loving knight was patting the servant on the shoulder and the both of them, if possible, were wearing matching unhappy faces. Merlin was scrubbing at his eyes with dirty hands, whimpering - when Gwaine pulled him to his feet.

Leon wanted to say, "Gaius is going to kill you." He wanted to tease Gwaine. He wanted to pull Merlin to his table and pinch his thin face til he smiled, but those usually bright eyes were dull. There was something terribly wrong that a joke could not chase away and as much as he wanted to step in and help – he'd leave it to Gwaine to be the shining one tonight. He'd get Gwaine to tell him tomorrow what had happened to the manservant. Leon held his breath as the two brushed by his table. Gwaine purposefully did not meet his eyes, instead he kept telling Merlin that he would be fine, everything would be okay, and that Merlin was his best mate.

They staggered out together. Merlin apologizing all the while. He kept declaring Gwaine's greatness, but denounced himself, and his own stupidity. His thin frame swaying dangerously under the influence of drink, he clung to the knight and mashed his face against a sturdy shoulder. He carried a very heavy cloth bag that he had slung over his shoulder and kept patting the bag over and over again.

Leon felt a cold lump forming in his stomach. There was something about seeing Merlin so out of character, so depressed, and vulnerable – it felt like an omen.

Earlier that day...

Gwaine was very handsome when the sun was shining. He was handsome when the sun wasn't shining but the light helped people get a better look at him. He was also extremely handsome when he was happy. So that meant that he was at his most handsome on his days off when the sun was out, because he was happy and so very viewable.

It was very hard to look so good and leave the looking glass, but he had to spread his beauty around.

As Camelot's most handsomest knight, it was part of his duty to stroll through Camelot before going to the tavern. He liked looking through the stalls and flirting with the women. He liked seeing the children running around with flowers threaded through their braids and buttons. He enjoyed being able to show off his athletic frame when it wasn't encased in cumbersome armor.

Sure, Camelot had its problems and most of them stemmed from Uther, but quite honestly all places were imperfect, but here he had made friends. He had made himself friends with the greatest person he'd ever had the pleasure of knowing. Merlin. That kid was amazing and he had a way of making Gwaine want to fight for something and someone. He had such a great "can do" attitude as well

He had been thinking of his favorite person in all of Camelot when he came across him and his heart dropped because his reality began to waver. Gwaine had found Merlin sitting dejectedly with his back to the palace walls. He was fumbling with the strap of his cloth bag that was full of herbs, bottled goods, grease, waxes, and other goodies. The only part of the boy's face that was clean were two tracks where tears had washed away some grit.

"Merlin!" greeted Gwaine his eyes dancing in delight as he looked at his favorite person in Camelot even though the boy was a mess. He was the prince's manservant after all and probably went through more than anyone else on a daily basis. The smile on his face faltered a bit when Merlin raised red rimmed eyes and sniffled. A smile flashed and he croaked out, "G-Gwaine!" There had never been a more anemic attempt at "gee, it's good to see you" in the history of mankind.

Gwaine squatted down in front of Merlin. who once again had decided that his worn cloth bag was the most fascinating thing in the world. and tried to get his friend to open up to him. Merlin's fingers were dancing over the fabric in a haphazard pattern. His hands were dirty, his nails were broken, and there was a dustiness to his overall appearance.

"You okay, Merlin? Has anyone hurt you?" Gwaine asked softly as his eyes looked over the thin body looking for scratches or bruising. Finding nothing obviously wrong other than clear signs of distress, did nothing to ease his mind for his friend's state of well being.

Merlin just shook his head and mouthed the word no. His eyes a little wild. A tear escaped and he began to pant.

Gwaine hooked his friend under his elbow and hauled him to his feet. He brushed his clothing down as gently as he could. He didn't scold Merlin for being dirty or comment about it. He just did what he thought he should do. Merlin had an odd sense of pride and decorum. In many ways, he acted more regal than the Pendragons. He had a sense of honor that would rival most blue bloods.

"Tavern. Medicinal reasons," Gwaine explained as his friend stood with hunched shoulders and a guarded expression.

"Gwaine, I-I-I-can't," stuttered the trembling warlock in servant's clothing.

"Merlin, I'm buying. We're going. You're having a drink. You don't have to tell me what's wrong, but I would like it if you would," said Gwaine with a voice that teetered between pleading and commanding. Merlin trembled as if he were a deer faced with a crossbow, but Gwaine wasn't just going to let him go when he looked like that. He wasn't going to let Merlin go knowing that Merlin would never go home to Gaius looking like that. He would have stayed out all night until he could fake happiness or slip in while his mentor was asleep.

Taking a Drunk Merlin Home...

It wasn't difficult to get Merlin to his Mentor's door. In fact, Gwaine had never met a more polite and cooperative drunk. Merlin was an absolute sweetheart. He knew that his friend had a heart of gold, but he never realized that the wise cracking Merlin was actually painfully polite, contrite, and a hugger. He even stopped to hug some of the other servants that they ran into along the way and apologize for being clumsy or dimwitted. Most of the people he hugged had giggled and pushed him back into Gwaine.

Gwaine liked getting people hammered so that he could see their true natures. Some people were violent, others were disgusting, some silly, and many were just scumbags. Very few were laid back like him, but hardly anyone was like Merlin. Sure, there were some who were polite. Some who were huggers. Some who declared their love for humanity. But Merlin, Merlin hated himself and loved everyone else – and that worried Gwaine. Merlin spoke about how much he respected Gaius. How everyone should respect Gaius. How Arthur should get on his knees and thank Gaius for breathing! Merlin snuffled and rattled on to Gwaine that no one would ever be as good as Gwaine at being a friend. That Gwaine would never be so stupid, like Lancelot. That Merlin would never let Gwaine be stupid like Lancelot.

Gwaine knocked on the physician's door and opened it slowly to find Merlin's personal hero and savior reading some large dusty book at the far table. Gwaine started to explain while half carrying, half walking Merlin into the room, but something inside Merlin activated. He straightened and flew at the elderly man with wide arms. Gaius caught him in an embrace.

"Merlin! What is.."

"I couldn't believe it, Gaius. I did everything on the list. The list for us, not for him. And I ran into that girl who smells nice and we were talking after I bought the vinegar. And she brought up how much things cost in Camelot. I was trying to decide what to buy my mom this month. And she said I shouldn't have trouble since I do so much. I didn't know what she meant. I thought maybe Mom would like dried apples, yknow for winter. For porridge? Apples in porridge is nice. Right? Mom would like apples, but they can be expensive. Verrry expensive. And the girl said again, that I should have enough since she's seen me. I didn't get it. So we went to the stall together and they really are asking to much. Do you think we could try to dry apples? Is it that hard? I mean, can we? I-I can't afford that." Merlin was speaking quickly and it was difficult to understand him. It was like he was letting out a poison.

Gaius looked at Gwaine. Merlin didn't notice. He just kept talking as it seemed to be in his nature to just talk and talk. He was like a small child who had been lost who had just been delivered to his parent and now he was in confession mode.

"I found him in a state very close to this. He only had two drinks and it took two hours," explained the good hearted knight speaking over Merlin's explanations.

"Pads His Ass and Pads His Shoulders pay their servants better," sniffed Merlin as he wrung his hands and stood still for a moment to rock back and forth onto his heels before once again launching himself into a pattern around the room.

"Merlin that's nothing to be upset about."

The warlock shot across the room and dumped his cloth bag on a table as if he just remembered he had been wearing it. He spoke as clearly as he could, "Actually Gaius, it is. I went and spoke to Uther's man. He doesn't have to do hardly any of the chores that I do, nor has he ever had to do them. I'm the joke. I'm doing several people's job, but I only get paid for one. That's the difference Gaius. That's the difference." Merlin now fueled by alcohol and rage, the depression burned off, jabbed one finger into the air, "I have been – getting less than everyone else while trying harder than everyone else - for YEARS."

And with that, Merlin crumpled. Half laying on a table he began to sob again declaring that even though he knew he was worth nothing to Arthur, it hurt to know it. It hurt to have it confirmed. Gaius rubbed his back and tried to soothe him, as Merlin promised that he had tried his best – every day. He really thought that his work and effort was on some level appreciated in some way and how very much he either really is hated or he really is totally worthless. He'd never be able to afford to move his mother to Camelot. There was more whimpering. More self hatred. Merlin declared that he would never be able to get married and after what happened the last time he looked at a girl for more than a day- he would never dare to think about it anyway! Who was he kidding!? He'd never be able to become a full physician's apprentice. He'd never be good enough... and he can't study... and the hic cups started. Words started disappearing. His knees started to buckle.

Gwaine helped Merlin up his ladder and to his bed. Gaius gave him a pot to put near on the nightstand in case Merlin's almost empty stomach decided to rebel.

"Thank you for making sure he got home, Gwaine," began the elderly physician awkwardly as he settled himself back down into a worn chair, his white hair straggly and face sagging with emotion.

Gwaine expected a don't get him drunk again, but it never came. Bravely the knight ventured into conversation with a man who he wasn't sure was angry with him, but sometime in the near future might have to stitch him back together, "At first I thought someone had beaten him up."

Gaius's only reply was the eyebrow.

Grinning sheepishly, "Yeah well, he was sitting against a wall. Looking like he'd been crying. He was all dusty. I tried to get him to talk, but he looked like he was going to cry again. I figured he wasn't going to come back here until either you were asleep or he could fake a grin. So... so I medicated him my own way to give him a little liquid backbone so he could make the journey home with eyes like that."

The floor had never looked so good. There was all sorts of things down there. Mainly dried leaves and flower petals. It smelled nice in here as well. Earthy. Spicy. The knight looked up as Gaius enveloped him in a fatherly hug.

"Merlin's right, you know. You are a good boy," said Gaius softly before he pulled away and ruffled the shocked knight's luxurious locks.

Tearfully touched, Gwaine went to bed that night with all sorts of new emotions. He was happy. He was sad. He was very angry. He just didn't know how to feel and wished he could feel just one thign at a time. One thing was for sure, Gwaine lost respect for Prince Arthur that night. He would no longer looked at the pale pink-cheeked blonde with respect – even though he was different than his father.

After Gwaine left...

A very angry, Arthur banged his way into the physician's quarters looking extremely put out and angry. Arthur was so put out from the walk, that he did not notice the expression on the old man's face. Later he would blame it on the fact that he was so hell bent on telling off Merlin, that he didn't notice. He wasn't so self absorbed that he wouldn't notice, was he? One thing was for sure, he wish he had noticed.

"Gaius, where is he?" demanded the Prince.

Gaius answered quietly, "Sire, I have no idea where Merlin is."

"He is supposed to be helping me arrange something nice for our guests for tomorrow evening," explained a very frustrated Arthur, "and he wasn't there to serve or pour drinks tonight. Our guests weren't impressed when I had to summon a replacement. It looked like we don't know who's working what shift!"

Arthur was very angry and Gaius did not look like he cared at all however he moved out of his comfortable chair to face his prince. There was something about Gaius's body language that betrayed his words. Arthur was sure that Merlin was in his room and he wasn't very happy that the physician was covering for him.

"Gaius! You must have some idea!" Arthur lunged forward as if he were about to dash forward towards Merlin's room, but Gaius held up an arm.

Gaius narrowed his eyes, "Arthur, I have cared for you since you were a babe. I have cared for you all throughout your childhood and for most of your adult life. I will no longer submit to being interrogated by you - not at my age. You are my Prince and my future King, but I am your physician. I am sick and tired of you and your father treating me like I am hiding things from you."

When Arthur did nothing except for gape like a fish abandoned on the seashore, Gaius continued, "I'm sick of my chambers being searched as if I'm a back stabbing traitor. If I were out for your lives, believe me as a physician, would I really have to resort to magic or some involved plot? Do you people ever think or use the heads you were born with? I'm sick of my precious materials being broken and smashed and then I'm told to find cures NOW with insufficient supplies. You don't even allow Merlin time to help me replace anything!"

"We offered to replace..."

"No Arthur you will not interrupt me."

"We offered to pay."

"Arthur, you..."

"We apologized."

"Shut! Up! Arthur! You will listen! For once, you will listen. You don't follow medical advice. You don't listen to me. You don't trust me. You took Aggravaine's word over my own and now you are interrogating me about the whereabouts of Merlin. My Merlin, who is like a son to me. My assistant, who helps me patch up your knights. A boy who never gets to go see his mother, who never puts his needs first, and who does try his best every day."

Arthur was pale. Gaius had never spoken to anyone like this, ever. Arthur never knew he even had a temper. Gaius might have started out speaking sternly, but towards the end of his speech he was practically yelling at the Prince and the look on his face was daring – as if he was hoping Arthur would react.

"You will arrange your own breakfast tomorrow, because when Merlin gets back – I have things, yes I have important things I need him to do for me. Where do you think remedies come from? Where do the materials we use to prevent infection, stop bleeding, help ease the nightmares, and soothe all matters of aches and pains come from? They aren't from magic. Even magic cannot replace the vast amount of medical supplies you use, break, waste, and squander. It has to be gathered, ground, boiled, and made into medicine. Do you understand what I am explaining to you, Arthur? Do you have any idea at all where all of this comes from?! I'll tell you Arthur. From Merlin's. Girly. Habit. Of. Flower. Picking. And guess what, Princess," Gaius added huffing and puffing as if he had just walked up a very long flight of stairs - feeling bold he had decided that taking a page from Gwaine's book of insults had been the right thing to do, "I do it too, Arthur. Medicine requires me to also have the girly habit of picking flowers."

Arthur's eyes were as wide as saucers.

What had happened:

After, Wynne, the maid who smelled so nice and looked so pretty had left him in front of a cart that was laden with dried nuts and fruits for winter. Merlin felt his heart sink, but it wasn't until he had run through the castle to find Uther's man was it confirmed: Merlin was severely underpaid and overworked.

Because of Uther had hired Merlin, the stable boys were no longer required to muck out the stables. The servants who were in charge of the hunting dogs were told not to walk them and that Merlin would do that – everyday. A laundry girl had been fired, because Merlin would do Arthur's laundry. The truth of the matter was that before Merlin, there had been several servants attending Arthur. He had kept firing them or they had quit – and there had been a gap in the staff. However once he got Merlin, they gave him the work of several servants for the pay of one.

Merlin had gone back out into the woods and had a bit of a magical hissy fit. He felt so stupid! Money really hadn't been important to him at all as long as he had a roof over his head, but to be taken advantage of – well that THAT just wasn't allowed. That felt worse than having a destiny. That felt worse than only being able to send his mother a dozen candles – that he had to make himself. That felt worse than being called a fool, because now...he felt like a fool!

When the winds had died down and the dust had settled, Merlin felt totally drained and weak. It was good to burn off the frenetic magic that had begun to threaten to release itself due to his mind racing in every direction. It had been a long time since he released his magical energy without focus, but he would need time to think – he needed to really think. Merlin blinked and looked around at was once a just a wooded area. Now it was teeming with plant life and mosses, tendrils of flower vines threaded up oaks, and there was a carpet of moss all around him.

Spent and soul-sick, Merlin staggered back into Camelot. A patch of shade looked inviting and his head was buzzing with complaints. He didn't care. He couldn't go home yet and upset Gaius in the middle of the day because he would have to explain. He had to calm down first so that he wouldn't get dosed with something vile so that he could control his magic. He didn't want to say he had already discharged a large amount of power off because he knew what that would get him as well. Sitting down in the shade and having a bit of a cry seemed like a good idea, after all it wasn't unmanly to cry, was it? He was just a commoner anyway, no one cared if he cried. It was safe now, perfectly safe, right?