Arthur just could not get through to Merlin.
He had been trying for weeks, but all his snarky comments just seemed to bound off the manservant as if they had never exchanged insults before. Sure there were times when Merlin would actually voice an opinion, but it was generally criticism of his uncle. It wasn't normal to be jealous of being scrutinized by Merlin – and Arthur hated feeling like he wasn't the center of attention.
He tried everything he knew and he invented new things – just to keep Merlin busy. He wanted to make him angry, but instead he just made him quieter and more efficient.
Merlin didn't even have the decency to question him!
The world was ending. No. That wasn't it. His world was ending. Guinevere was exiled and he missed her. His father was loopy in grief over that traitorous bitch, Morganna. All he had around him were "Yes" men and his uncle who lavished attention on him, but was a bit heavy handed in the justice department. It was nice having Aggravaine around, Arthur really needed family right now. He also needed Merlin, but the twitchy boy just seemed to grow more distant every day.
It was starting to bother Arthur just how quiet Merlin was becoming and worse, he was developing the habit of being exceedingly polite. Every "Sire" and "My Lord" felt like a knife twisting in his gut. Each one was a betrayal to all that they'd been through together.
Arthur was starting to wonder if Merlin was enchanted.
The signs were there. First there was the personality change. It wasn't a complete transformation but it was enough of a difference. This Merlin was not his Merlin. Merlin was paler than normal. Yes, sure the boy was always pale, but now his skin was almost colorless. Translucent. Dark shadows were forming under his eyes. His frame had always been lean, but even though Arthur saw him snacking and eating more – Merlin was actually slimmer than he had been. He was speaking in softer tones. He smiled less and when he did smile – it wasn't the same. He did still joke with Gwaine sometimes after practice, but he rushed off even when Arthur hadn't given him a load of work. Merlin just wasn't Merlin anymore.
Arthur wanted to talk to Gaius about it, but … well... he couldn't. After the night Gaius had told him off about his family accusing him of sorcery, ruining his supplies, and disrupting his life – Arthur barely brought up magic threats anymore unless he could name the threat. The only threat he had a name for was Morganna and he really doubted that Morganna would bother to enchant Merlin.
The knights were all excellent hunters. Squires and servants scrambled back with the slaughtered and salted carcasses to the castle's kitchens, leaving the main hunting party just enough meat for supper. The area between Merlin's eyebrows was crinkled into a "v" and his nose was scrunched. Arthur thought Merlin's nose was long, but not big. It certainly suited the boy's face. Out in the forest, Merlin looked more youthful than he did at the castle. Fresh air seemed to do him good...
The royal frowned as he watched Merlin open a container of oil and another of mixed herbs and salt. He mixed them in a small shallow metal bowl and then started rubbing the prepared pheasants so that they would taste better roasted over the open pit. The distaste for what Merlin was doing was nakedly displayed. The boy looked like he was fighting being overcome with revulsion. Arthur knew he didn't like hunting, but there were no coughs or sneezes to scare prey away. Merlin hadn't tripped over any roots. He hadn't said much of anything all day. He just … did his job.
Being with a Merlin like this – was lonely. Arthur hoped it was an enchantment. He was counting on it, because if it wasn't magic. If it wasn't a spell. If Merlin was himself... he just didn't know what he was supposed to do to fix him.
"Merlin!" the swaggering knight who lately had become a great pain in the ass settled down by the manservant's side. He gently patted a fragile looking shoulder and grinned happily, but Merlin didn't even greet Gwaine warmly. Instead he... he just grinned wanly as he finished seasoning the pheasants.
Gwaine. Arthur pretended to be checking over his crossbow as he considered Gwaine. Gwaine. That one who led Merlin to the tavern when he was to hungry to think. Arthur's lips pursed. All the knights were mad at him not Gwaine for weeks. It took a lot of chat ups and a lot of attempts at bonding to rekindle some of the warmth back from his men. Gwaine still resolutely remained indifferent.
Gwaine poured his water skin over Merlin's hands as the boy rubbed his hands clean with salt from the pack. Arthur was tempted to say something about the waste, but knowing Merlin it was probably sea salt and he probably bought it or gathered it himself. Together they rose and headed into the forest. Arthur didn't ask why. He didn't want to know why. It wasn't his business if Merlin preferred to talk and spend time with the knight than him.
Leon sank into a seated squatting position near his left shoulder and asked, "Sire, are you alright? Can I get you anything?"
Another "Sire," once it was alright, but now that Merlin started treating him like a human being – it wasn't. Arthur snapped out of the study of the killing instrument in his hands, "No, Thank you Leon. I was thinking and besides that – getting me things – is Merlin's job."
Gwaine was such a big help. Merlin unrolled small burlap bags that he had secreted in one of his jacket's inside pockets and Merlin was quickly filling his with blackberries. The knight on the other hand had much loftier ambitions. He had sworn he had seen trees laden with walnuts and had gone off to terrorize some branches in hopes of filling his bag with something more substantial.
Merlin did have some pinenuts stashed, but he was running low on them. He'd been munching on them all day in hope to boost up some energy. Half the berries he picked where placed in his mouth and half in the sack, he knew from experience just how greedy Arthur could be and he wasn't going to take the chance that his dinner would be distributed as a dessert.
When the bag was nearly full, Gwaine came triumphantly bursting through the underbrush as if he just had an encounter with a very brassy buxom tavern maid.
"I was wrong," Gwaine admitted as he shook a full sack at Merlin, "It was chestnuts!"
Merlin smiled. He really liked chestnuts.
Gwaine picked a few berries and shoved them in his mouth, "These are sweet!"
"I have enough for everyone," the secret warlock stated proudly, but his words made his friend frown.
"Merlin, don't be giving away your supper. I know you have no intention of eating those birds."
Merlin turned his head and stripped a few more berries into his bag before a very quiet, "That obvious, huh?" was asked.
"Merlin. You don't have to answer, but what do you have against hunting?"
The boy's head tilted downwards just a fraction. He took an experimental breath and then another to carry the shame filled words, "I – I just don't like killing. They are innocent. They run. They can't even fight back."
Gwaine grabbed Merlin by the bottom of his elbow and swung him in the direction of the camp, "As I thought. You're a good man, Merlin. You're better than any of us. We better get back soon or Princess is bound to invent ways to keep you extra occupied."
Once again, Gwaine gave him hope. He wasn't that strange or girlish as Arthur claimed. Gwaine understood, why couldn't Arthur?
A lighthearted mood enveloped the camp as the knights settled down and teased one another. They joked, laughed, and punched each other's arms. Merlin rolled his eyes, an action that Arthur did not miss. "That was very Merlin-like," he admitted to himself and a flood of doubt about an enchantment mixed with grief.
Merlin was dividing the pheasants onto plates. He added a pickled egg, some cheese, and bread that he had brought. The smells from the food that he intended to serve his friends were overwhelming him. He never thought cheese smelled like vomit or that eggs could reek clouds of noxious gas.
These camping trips were supposed to be Arthur's way of getting away from ceremony and Camlot's pressures, but Merlin discovered long ago if he wasn't fed properly Arthur could be an awful human being. A little addition from the kitchen's pantries was not going to hurt the situation.
The men all "oohed" and "ahhed" as they gratefully grabbed their share of the meal. There was enough pheasant for seconds if they wished – and they would go for it. Merlin hadn't plated himself anything yet, he still had to tend to the horses.
"Merlin," called Arthur, "What are you doing? You Idiot. Sit down and eat. Pheasant tastes gamey if it's cold."
Arthur's calling Merlin over for food earned him warm looks from his men, well most of them. Gwaine didn't even acknowledge that Arthur spoke. He just shoved steaming meat onto a hunk of bread and wolfed it down.
"I'm fine," the secret warlock said warmly, as he dragged a dainty looking hand through his short raven hair, "I'm going to tend the horses first. Besides, I don't want any pheasant. That's all for you guys."
Everyone stopped chewing, well everyone who wasn't Gwaine. He was still plowing through his food happily.
"Eat Arthur," pleaded Merlin softly. "It's going to get cold."
Arthur leapt to his feet. He was prepared to make Merlin eat. Sure maybe they had denied him food before, but Gaius said he needed to eat! Gwaine blocked his way, faster than Arthur expected, "Whoa, wait a minute, Princess. Calm down. Eat your food while it's hot. It's good. Merlin worked very hard to make this – for you. And you don't want to put Merlin off his food as his reward for his consideration."
Gwaine wasn't puffing out his nose like a bull about to charge – yet. Light from the fire glinted off his armor, but the steely glint in the knight's eyes was far more intense.
Arthur didn't want to be shown up in front of his men. He was in charge. Gaius said Merlin needed to eat regularly, "Gaius said that he," he stabbed a finger towards where Merlin was, "needs to eat. He's not allowed to skip meals."
Gwaine smiled. Arthur's words had moved the knight's mood from aggressive to brotherly! Arthur was confused as Gwaine repeatedly slapped his hand down, good naturedly, againgst the precious royal shoulder. The one that had been once ravaged by the Great Dragon. Arthur held back a wince.
"No need to worry!" Gwaine assured him, steering him back towards his spot at the fire and back towards his plate. Percival stared at him with a drumstick hovering over an almost empty plate. "Merlin and I got his supper earlier. He's got enough for tonight and tomorrow!"
By the time Merlin came back, the bones of the birds were fuel for the fire. He scooted away from the fire and the smoke and sat down with his dinner. If he noticed the tension, he didn't remark on it. Instead he popped berry after berry into his mouth, greedily.
Arthur sat down next to Merlin and his manservant merely smiled at him, but he kept eating. He was quietly crushing the nut shells between two large rocks by leaning until the shell gave. Arthur watched as nimble fingers plucked up berries and broken nuts – swiftly despositing them into his mouth.
"That's not enough food Merlin," reprimanded Arthur. "There's no meat."
Merlin's cheeks were practically stuffed like a squirrels and even though his frenetic chewing had ceased, there was no way he could speak with a mouth full. Merlin covered his mouth with one hand, like a girl, and reached for his water skin with the other. He turned his back towards Arthur, made a horrid choking sound, drank half his water and turned back to the mouthy monarch.
"Sire," said Merlin straining through a held back cough. He took another draw off his water skin before he found his voice properly, "This is what I wanted to eat."
His blue eyes, so open, were shadowed and not from the lack of light. Arthur did not like how Merlin seemed to be wasting away. He did not like him not eating properly. He did not like him quiet or polite. He did not like that Sire word. He did not like Merlin's berry stained fingers. He did not like Gwaine leading him around like a kid brother who needed protecting.
Just who the hell did they think HE was? He was going to be the King and he knew best!
"Gaius said!" Arthur could feel his anger building and he knew it wasn't good, "that..."
"I know." Merlin's voice was soft, apologetic, and so damn timid!
Arthur puffed a little, "If you know then why didn't yo..."
"I-didn't-want-to-eat-anything-that I ..that I.. I watched being killed," Merlin explained moodily.
A bark of laughter erupted before Arthur could stop it. It was so Merlin-like! And then his mood fell as fast as it had lifted. It was so Merlin-like. Merlin's eyes narrowed and his mouth thinned a little as he pushed down on his lips as if to stop his words. That's not Merlin-like!
Arthur didn't want Merlin to be enchanted, but it would make him feel better or would it?
Merlin stood up and brushed the crumbs from the nuts off his long legs before collecting up the used dishes and discarded water skins. He grabbed a bucket off of his horse, the supply horse., and stalked off in the direction of a murmuring stream.
Gwaine sighed.
Arthur swallowed.
The usually ale soaked knight had seen the whole thing.
Merlin was the first to fall asleep. He withered as his friends looked on. His unfocusing eyes blinking faster as his body succumbed to gravity in slow motion. Leaning on his palm turned into leaning on his elbow and then he was resting his head on his arm, it wasn't soon after – Merlin was asleep.
Elyan chucked and swiftly moved to cover the thin man from the chill of the night air. He draped Merlin's coarse blanket over the sleeping warlock. The blanket wasn't quite long enough and his feet stuck out from the bottom.
"He's probably had that thing from when he was a kid," muttered Percival.
Gwaine chuckled, "How would you know? Were you ever small?"
Percival rewarded his friend with a gentle but firm tap on his arm that was sure to leave a bruise.
"Shhh," admonished Leon as the two giggled as softly as they could.
Merlin moved onto his side cocooning himself as he curled into his blanket much to the amusement of his audience.
"He sleeps like a kid," whispered Arthur. He had tried for judgmental but a fond tone betrayed him. All he could do to save the situation was to sit with a sour expression.
"In many ways, Merlin is a kid," Leon said through a mighty yawn as he claimed ground near the fire to sleep. "In other ways, Merlin is older than all of us. He's definitely a mystery. He's loyal and kind. He's stubborn and argumentative. He's wise and patient. Normally he's a ball of energy, but lately he's been more sedate. He's foolish and clumsy. He's naive but he's educated and yet, he can lack common sense. Gaius says he's a great student. He's a hard worker but I think it's more in his nature to be lazy and stare at clouds. He is so many things and yet, he's just a manservant. A great friend. Selfless. He's a good kid and he's also a great man. Well he will be."
Arthur couldn't argue, but he also couldn't agree. What if Merlin heard?