Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin
Author's note: Let me know if you think Merlin's too cocky
"Merlin..."
The warlock was jolted to consciousness by the disembodied voice. He looked around. Of course he would be in the dungeons.
"Merlin..."
"Shut up," Merlin grumbled. He had another headache and his right eye was throbbing painfully. In fact – he tried blinking – it was swollen shut. Did Arthur really have to hit so hard? He hoped that someone, maybe Leon, would lecture the prince on hitting unarmed peasants (even if they were annoyingly clever).
"Merlin," another voice said. It was Gaius. There was a jangling of the keys as a guard unlocked the cell door.
"You never cease to amaze me!" the old man declared, his lecturing mode switched to 'on'. "The one thing that someone like you should do is keep your head down, but what do you do? You behave like an idiot."
Merlin moaned.
"Believe me," he said miserably, sitting up in the hay, "I'm not happy about it either."
Gaius tried to hide his sympathy when he saw the boy's state. "You're lucky. I managed to pull a few strings to get you released," he said, helping Merlin to his feet.
Merlin grinned weakly. "Thank you," he said, poking at his injured eye.
Gaius slapped his hand. "Don't touch that!" he ordered. Merlin's hand dropped to his side.
The physician sighed, "Now, let's take you home and get that treated."
"Thanks," Merlin said again.
Gaius raised his head. "Don't count your blessings just yet. After I fix you up, there is a small price to pay."
Merlin's eye widened. "Oh no, don't tell me..."
O o O
SPLAT!
A rotten fruit hit the board next to his face. Joy of joys. Merlin let out an exasperated sigh, trying to ignore the throbbing in his eye, along with an added aching back, and a still existent headache.
There was a mumble of disappointment when the small crowd realized they'd run out of rotten produce to throw.
He was awarded the temporary break almost the exact same time he caught sight of Gwen, who was approaching him now that the Merlin-pelters were out of ammunition.
"Hello," she said, bobbing. "I'm Guinevere, but most people call me Gwen. I'm Lady Morgana's maid."
"And I'm Merlin," he introduced, awkwardly shaking hands with her. "Though, I suppose most people are calling me 'idiot'."
"No! No, no, I saw what you did. So brave… I mean, I could tell you bumped into him on purpose."
"Really?" Merlin asked.
"You sound disappointed," Gwen noted, eyebrows raised.
Merlin sighed, "If you could tell it wasn't on accident, that means I'm a horrible actor."
Gwen laughed, "And that's a bad thing?"
"Believe me," Merlin said, "sometimes it's useful to be a good actor."
"If you say so," Gwen marveled.
"I do. So the prince is a bit of a bully, huh?" Merlin asked.
Gwen snorted, "Anyone who works around the castle is well aware of the fact. He hangs around a nasty bunch – I don't think they're a very good influence on him."
Merlin clicked his tongue.
"Well, give me a couple months," he asserted. "I'll have him all understanding and kingly by then."
Guinevere laughed. Merlin laughed along with her, even though he had been perfectly serious.
"Yes, just keep bumping into him, and he's sure to come around," Gwen chuckled.
"Maybe all he needs is a good punching bag," Merlin mused.
Gwen winced as her attention was brought to his swollen eye. Gaius had done as much as he could for the injury, but in reality, time would be the only remedy. (This frustrated Merlin more than it did when he was younger. Waiting for an injury to heal on its own was something he hadn't had to deal with in a long while).
"I'm sorry about your eye," Gwen said.
"I was being stupid," Merlin said.
"I suppose it was kind of rash," Gwen admitted. "I mean, Arthur's one of those big, muscly kind of fellows."
"So?"
"So, you don't look like that," Gwen said. Then, realizing what she'd said, began to look sheepish.
"No, and I never intend to," Merlin said firmly.
Gwen laughed.
Behind her, Merlin saw a herd of kids lugging a basket full of ripened fruits and vegetables towards the stocks. He sighed loudly. "Well it was good to meet you, Gwen," he said. "But as you can see, my fans await."
Gwen turned and caught sight of the gathering crowd.
"Yes, well... see you later then?"
"Of course," Merlin said. As soon as she walked away, he was forced to put his head down to avoid a mouthful of tomato. Stupid, magic-imported tomatoes. Uther would probably have them banned if he found that the only reason Albion had tomatoes was because some idiotic sorcerer had been experimenting forty years ago and the spell had gone wrong. Instead of discovering a cure for the common cold, he'd teleported some strange plants into his garden. Oh well, they tasted good with potatoes.
…Hopefully no one would throw any of those.
O o O
Stupid tomatoes...
Merlin cursed the curious sorcerer for the hundredth time that day. Tomato seeds were a horror to wash out of his hair. After peeling what felt like the hundredth seed out of his hair, he cheated and used magic.
Merlin sat down to supper wondering where exactly the tomatoes had been teleported from, when Gaius interrupted his musings with, "Do you want some vegetables with that?"
Merlin chuckled. "Really, Gaius, no need to rub it in," he said, taking a bite of the soup.
"You need to be more careful, Merlin," the old man said, sitting down.
"Believe me, I've learned my lesson," Merlin assured.
Gaius raised an eyebrow.
Merlin tilted his head. "Okay then, probably not. But I'm not used to being so careful," he said honestly. "This could take a while."
"Well don't take too long," Gaius said, concerned. "Your mother asked me to look after you."
Merlin smiled softly. It was strange to think that she was no longer living Camelot, that she was back in Ealdor, working among the fields.
"So what did she say about your gifts?" Gaius asked.
Merlin rested his elbows on the table. "She didn't know much about them to be honest," he said. "Magic doesn't come her way very often. Most of the things I've learned have been self-taught."
"Do you know any spells then?" Gaius asked.
Merlin decided it would be easiest if he just shook his head. "No."
Gaius straightened. He always did that whenever he'd make an important decision. Merlin guessed this one had to do with his magic book. He hoped so. While he didn't really need it anymore, the familiarity of simply having it under his bed would probably comfort him on bad days.
Gaius cocked his head. "You know, Merlin, you're special. The likes of which I've never seen before."
Merlin smiled at his mentor fondly.
"Don't blow up my head too much," he warned. "I'm already having to resist using magic on about a thousand different things."
"Did you really use magic so much in Ealdor?" Gaius asked in disbelief.
"It was easy enough to avoid people," Merlin lied.
Gaius sighed, "No wonder your mother sent you here. You're going to have to learn to control yourself, young man."
"I will," Merlin said. "Even I'm pretty sure that I'm better off alive than dead."
Gaius snorted.
The physician helped himself to his own portion of soup and they talked about random things. Merlin asked about the castle and possible jobs he might try for – hinting that he would probably make a good manservant for a certain prince. In turn, Gaius asked him how his day in the stocks had gone and notified Merlin that he had known Guinevere for quite a while and that she was 'indeed, a nice girl'.
As soon as Merlin put down his spoon, Gaius stood up and grabbed a bottle from off of a shelf.
"Oh, Merlin. Before wander off, would you mind taking a preparation down to Lady Helen? She needs it for her voice."
"Of course," Merlin replied with a grin. It would be good to check up on the lady (whose name had been confirmed), see how she was doing after her upsetting night in the woods. He had already heard the rumors about the 'ghosts' that had come haunting her and her escorts in the middle of the night.
O o O
Merlin knocked lightly on the door.
"Come in!" a muffled voice called out.
Merlin grinned and stepped into the room.
"Lady Helen?" he asked.
The lady was sitting in front of the mirror... and what do you know – she was doing her hair. And her reflection still reflected herself.
"Hello. Well come in then," she said. "What is it that you have for me? A message?"
Merlin held out the bottle full of yellow liquid. She recognized it instantly and took it from him. With a smile she said, "I see Uther remembered. Thank the court physician for me, won't you?"
"It would be my pleasure," he professed, bowing. The real Lady Helen was obviously a decent noble – she had actual manners. He exited the room, feeling more accomplished than he had all day. Finally something was going right.
In his elation, he missed the shadow that crossed the pillar.
O o O
Down in the market-place, Merlin spent his time bartering with the various salesmen for random items. He didn't have much money, but a quill and some parchment would probably come in handy if he was going to forge a recommendation letter for himself. Only the best servants would ever be considered for the honored position of being a prince's personal manservant.
Then he caught sight of Arthur's blonde hair. He smacked himself mentally. This was the last place Merlin should have come – at least not until later.
Before he could duck behind a stall, Arthur cat-called, "So how was your day in the stocks?"
Great. Just great.
"Fabulous," he said blandly.
Arthur snickered.
"Got your daily serving of vegetables I suppose," the prince joked. The young men around him laughed.
Oh, the wit.
When Merlin didn't say anything the prince asked, swinging his mace in slow circles, "So then, peasant, do you know how to walk on your knees?"
Merlin sighed inwardly. Not this again.
"I'd hope so," he called. "It's not exactly hard, is it?"
Arthur took a few steps closer, swinging his mace and was doing his absolute best to be intimidating. Merlin felt about as frightened of Arthur as he was of a squirrel, and probably less so. At least squirrels were fast.
"Then do it," the prince said. "Come on!" He pushed Merlin's shoulder. "Show us how easy it is!"
Merlin shook his head. "Sorry, no thanks."
"What was that?" Arthur asked, laughing incredulously.
"These are my only clean pair of trousers," Merlin explained. "The other ones are covered in vegetables."
That stalled Arthur for a moment, enough for Merlin to back up out of range. The prince was probably processing the idea that Merlin only had two pairs of trousers. He quickly got over it though, and shook away his unwanted thoughts.
"Do I look like I care? Kneel," Arthur ordered, gripping his weapon threateningly.
"Seriously?" Merlin asked.
"Do it or I'll give you shiner to match your other one," Arthur threatened, gesturing at Merlin's face. His cronies laughed evilly. By that point half the market was watching.
"This really isn't all that fair," Merlin pointed out. "You've been trained to kill since... when? Birth? And look at me, just a simple peasant. I've probably never held a sword in my life!"
"Get. Down."
All right. So apparently it was only dishonorable to bully an unarmed, unskilled opponent when you didn't think your opponent was annoying. And since Arthur clearly saw him as annoying, Merlin knew he probably didn't have much of a chance. Shame, because he really didn't want to get whacked by that broom again.
"Fine then! But you'll have to catch me, first!" Merlin yelled. He laughed, then bolted.
It probably wasn't the wisest thing to do, but as he ran he shouted, "Make way for the Royal PRAT! Make way! The prat's trying to catch me!"
Arthur and his friends chased after Merlin, growling loudly and shouting their own insults as they went. Several of the knights joined the chase as well after Merlin shouted something particularly insulting. There was no way someone should be able to get away with calling the prince a name like that.
After a while, Merlin realized he'd taken the indignence too far. It would be easy enough to get away from his pursuers. He knew Camelot's escape-routes better than his magic book, which was saying something. But unfortunately, now that there were at least ten knights and five nobles chasing after him, he would probably be in more trouble if he wasn't caught than if he just let Arthur have his way with him.
With a bout of frustration, Merlin pretended to trip over a pile of baskets.
A couple of Arthur's knights caught up and hauled him to his feet.
"The dungeons, sire?" they asked, breathing heavily.
Arthur considered the dark-haired boy in front of him. "Dungeons! Dungeons!" one of his friends began to chant, but he was stopped by Arthur's upraised hand.
"He may be an idiot," he said finally, "but he's a brave one. Let him go."
The soldiers released him.
Merlin stumbled away from them, relieved. Hooray for Arthur and his non-prattish instincts (the 'destiny' instincts, Merlin decided to dub them).
Arthur stared at him for a couple of seconds.
Then he said the same thing he'd said the last time: "There's something about you. I can't quite put my finger on it."
"My name is Merlin," Merlin introduced himself, giving Arthur a proper bow. Then he sent Arthur a small smile. "Pleased to meet you, sire."
Arthur nodded his head in return.
In his head, Merlin whooped for joy.
O o O
That night, Merlin sat through another lecture, but he barely heard any of it. Things were finally looking up. First Lady Helen and now no back injury to deal with – plus, Arthur had given him a bow. (All right, maybe he was fooling himself with that one, but still – it felt good.)
The dragon also tried to contact him again.
Merlin scoffed, and blocked his thoughts. Not tonight. He was exhausted.
O o O
"Oi!"
Merlin awoke with a start. Was it morning already?
"Have you seen the state of this room?" Gaius demanded, holding up various articles of clothing.
"I do live here," Merlin yawned.
"Well you'd better have it cleaned up before I get back!" the physician huffed, throwing a pair of trousers onto Merlin's bed. "And while I'm gone, I want you to get me some herbs: hennaing, wormwood and sorrel. And deliver this to Morgana. Poor girl's suffering from nightmares."
Merlin barely caught the cordial Gaius threw at him.
Morgana. He'd have to check his magic to keep himself from blowing her into oblivion on the spot.
A shirt hit him in the face.
O o O
The door to Morgana's room was open. He peered in cautiously, and there she was, standing with her back to him. Not wearing black, not smirking, and not trying to kill anyone.
"You know, I've been thinking about Arthur," she said, playing with her hair, then walking towards the screen.
"So have I," he answered.
She turned around, startled.
"Oh," she said, righting herself. "I thought you were Gwen."
"A common mistake I'm sure," he said with a grin. He held out the cordial. "Gaius told me to bring you this."
Morgana smiled at him uncertainly before reaching out and taking the pouch.
"Who are you?" she asked.
"Merlin," he said. "I'm Gaius's new ward."
"And how's Camelot treating you?" Morgana asked politely.
Merlin considered the most diplomatic answer to her question. He finally settled for, "It keeps me on my toes."
"Good... I think," Morgana said, eyebrows raised.
Merlin smiled lightly.
"Well, better go – more errands to run."
Morgana nodded and watched him as he skirted around the door and out of her chambers.
O o O
Nearing the time of the feast, Merlin was passing through a hallway when he caught sight of... blast. He couldn't remember her name. All he knew was that the she was the temporary maid of Lady Helen. She'd been another one of Mary Collins' victims. And if he was right, she appeared to be heading there now.
Better do one last check, just in case.
Merlin caught up with the girl.
"Uh, hello," he said.
"Hello," the girl said without pausing in her step.
"Are you taking those to Lady Helen?" Merlin asked, gesturing at the fruit.
"Yes," the girl said, suddenly suspicious.
"Would you like me to take them? I've got to give Lady Helen her tonic anyway, it wouldn't be any trouble," Merlin said, holding up a random bottle that he'd gotten from the market.
The girl looked surprised. "Well, if you're sure..." she said, hesitating.
"Oh, it'd be no problem," Merlin assured, taking the bowl of fruit. "You can go see Evan now."
Evan, on the other hand, was someone he did know. The man had been melancholy for months after the death of his fiance. Merlin had trouble remembering him ever wearing a smile.
"Thank you!" she gushed, cheering at the thought of her fiance, and skipped off in the opposite direction.
Merlin breathed deeply and took the route to Lady Helen's room.
He knocked on the door.
He heard footsteps, then the door opened slightly. Upon seeing her, Merlin nearly cried out. He could instantly tell that something was off about noblewoman. Dark magic radiated off her, centering mainly on the necklace she was wearing. Then there was the overall aura of unkindness that she seemed to emit.
"Yes?" she asked.
Merlin shook his head and bowed properly. "You've been sent some fruit," he said, holding out the bowl.
She opened the door a little wider and stepped into the hallway. "Give them here," she demanded.
Before shutting the door on him she said, "And inform my maid that I will no longer require her services."
Merlin felt sick. That probably meant that somewhere in her room, Lady Helen's corpse was lying across the floor. "Of course," he said hoarsely. He didn't even wait for her to dismiss him before hurrying away from the scene.
What was wrong with him?
How could he have let Camelot's walls lull him into such a false sense of security? And now, because of his stupidity, a friendly woman was now dead. Ended. Nonexistent. No more.
Merlin hid himself in one of the unused guest rooms for the remainder of the afternoon.
O o O
He arrived at the feast later than he would've liked. Most of the guests had already entered and Gaius was sending him a glare that could curdle milk.
"Merlin!" he scolded. "Where have you been all day? You're here to work, not laze around like a buffoon."
"I'm sorry, Gaius," Merlin apologized. "Something came up. But I did get the herbs from the market you asked. They're on the floor of my room somewhere."
Gaius lips set themselves in a thin line.
"I've been feeling a little homesick, I guess," Merlin finally confessed, which was partially true.
This had the desired effect. Gaius's expression immediately softened and he gave his new ward a comforting pat on the shoulder. "Don't worry, Merlin," he reassured. "You'll grow used to Camelot eventually."
Merlin nodded.
Soon afterward, the king entered the room. Merlin regretted that he hadn't gotten the chance to speak with Guinevere.
"We have enjoyed twenty years of peace and prosperity," Uther began, once the room had quieted. "It has brought the kingdom and myself many pleasures." His voice grew louder as he announced, "But few could compare with the honor of introducing Lady Helen – of Morra!"
The audience clapped and Merlin watched with narrowed eyes as the disguised Mary Collins took the stand.
Her voice was absolutely beautiful. This only made Merlin wish even more fervently that he could have saved the true Lady Helen. It would have been lovely to hear a real song pouring from her lips, instead of a foul enchantment.
Cobwebs.
Overdoing it, a bit, aren't we? Merlin thought at the woman while he glared.
The chandelier had been a good idea, so he used it again. A flash of gold and down it came, impaling her body on several of the spikes. His eyes focused on her her ruined body with a coldness that was unlike him – revenge was not worth the suffering it caused.
Merlin waited for everyone to wake up, and for the moment when Mary Collins gathered the last of her strength and magic, and threw the knife at Arthur.
Time slowed.
Merlin and Arthur landed on the floor with a thud, just as the knife imbedded itself into the chair.
Everyone gasped.
Uther stood up and approached Merlin with a look that resembled gratitude.
"You saved my boy's life," he said breathlessly. "A debt must be repaid."
"I do need a job," Merlin pitched in quickly.
Uther looked triumphant. Merlin hadn't known until Arthur had told him years later, but earlier that morning, Arthur had been complaining to Uther of the incompetence of his current manservant. Apparently he used to bother his father at least once a month about his servants before Merlin had come along. Obviously the king had grown tired of his son's whining.
"Then it is settled!" he declared. "You shall be awarded a position in the royal household. You shall be prince Arthur's manservant."
"Father!" Arthur exclaimed, sounding outraged.
Merlin did his best to look miserable.
