Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.


The journey back to the castle was one long trudge. At least it wasn't raining.

"You didn't read about Arthur's birth in the library," Gaius said suddenly, his voice tired.

Merlin took a sideways glance at the old physician. He should have guessed that Gaius would call him out on the lie.

"No," the warlock agreed. "I didn't."

Gaius waited for further elaboration, but none came. He sighed. Apparently Merlin was more secretive than he'd believed him to be. For some reason, this made his heart rise to his throat.

"How, then?" he asked, wondering if he'd get a proper answer.

"The dragon," Merlin lied simply. The warlock was, in all honesty, very grateful that he hadn't heard the tale from Kilgharrah. The dragon probably would have been breathing flames and curses at Uther, and Merlin never would have gotten the story straight. "He was a little prejudiced – well, more than a little – but I got the gist of it," Merlin elaborated.

Gaius had to remind himself to keep walking.

"The dragon?" he croaked, shuffling at a quicker pace to catch up.

Merlin snorted. "Yes, the dragon. Blasted lizard has been railing about my destiny since the day I got here," he whined. Then he softened. "But he has helped me in several tight spots, I'll give him that."

Merlin looked over at his mentor. The physician seemed older than he'd ever been, as if the weight of a mountain had been added onto his shoulders. Merlin shifted his eyes away guiltily. That was partly his fault after all.

"Sorry for not telling you," Merlin said. "I didn't want you to worry more than I already do."

Gaius snorted. "If this is your idea of 'not worrying me,' then I think I have to inform you that I nearly had a heart attack tonight!"

"I told you I could take care of myself," Merlin complained. "You just never believed me."

Gaius patted Merlin's shoulder. "With your recklessness, I'm still fairly sure that you can't take care of yourself."

Merlin raised his eyebrows. "But...?" he inquired, hearing the defeat of one who has lost an argument with their growing child.

Gaius removed his hand from Merlin's shoulder. "But I must admit that you are far more advanced in magic than I thought you to be," he said slowly.

Merlin grinned. "You better believe it."

"Where did you learn all of that, Merlin?" Gaius asked. "Were you lying when you told me you had never seen the druids?"

Merlin ignored the druid question. "I learned most of it on my own," he said honestly. "My magic doesn't work like most people's. Books help, that's all."

"Do they?" Gaius asked flatly.

"Yes, they do," Merlin said honestly. "Just because I'm all-powerful doesn't mean I'm all knowledgeable."

Gaius snorted. "My boy, you couldn't be more right."

Merlin was too tired to be offended.

O o O

"Good moooorning, Arthur!" Merlin sang at the top of his lungs, pushing the door open with his tray.

Instead of the usual, "Merlin!" the warlock only got a groan in reply.

Merlin smirked.

He set the breakfast tray on the table and walked over to the bed. The lump that was Arthur appeared to be curled under the sheets, trying his best to shield himself from the light.

"You're lucky the Mercians got as drunk as you did last night, otherwise you'd have been up hours ago," Merlin chattered as he flung open the canopy so the afternoon sun could reach the hungover prince. "Actually, I think the only nobles who are awake are your father and sis- er, Morgana. Although, I'm not complaining either. I got to sleep in past dawn for the first time in ages. I swear, Arthur, I never get a moment's..."

A candlestick flung at his head silenced his monologue.

"Shut. Up," Arthur's chilly voice came from under the blankets, dripping with icicles.

Merlin cocked his head in amusement. "Gaius sent up a hangover remedy. Looks disgusting, by the way..."

"Hand it over," Arthur snapped, sticking a hand out from under the blankets.

"Only if you get up," Merlin said, grinning wickedly.

Arthur's head popped out, his mouth formed into a scowl. "Merlin..." he warned.

Merlin picked up the little glass bottle and shook its contents. "I could toss it out the window," he said, grinning and miming a small toss toward the opening.

Arthur seemed to loose all sense after that. Merlin was just glad he made it out alive.

O o O

"What are you doing?" Gaius asked curiously, poking his head into Merlin's room. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "You aren't napping are you?"

Merlin opened one eye.

"I wish," he said honestly.

Gaius didn't blame him. Even if he had got to sleep in later than usual, Merlin probably hadn't gotten more than three hours of sleep. As soon as they'd gotten back to Camelot, the boy had gone to see the dragon about something. When Gaius had demanded to know what for, Merlin had answered with an insufferable, "I'll tell you later."

"I'm meditating," he finally admitted. "Or at least – trying too. Not easy when I've got about a million things on my to-do list."

"Meditation?" Gaius raised an eyebrow. "Where did you learn that?"

"Er... mother," Merlin said, shifting uncomfortably in his sitting position against the wall. "She thought it might help me control my magic."

Gaius nodded slightly at that. Hunith wasn't completely ignorant when it came to such things. "Has your magic been acting up?" he asked, concerned.

"Not since the last thunderstorm," Merlin allowed with a small smile.

Gaius nodded, then he froze, and his eyes widened as comprehension dawned.

"I'm actually working to set up a teleportation spell for myself," Merlin continued, not allowing the physician to voice his incredulous realizations. "I can't be around Arthur all the time, but if he's ever in any mortal danger, I want to be able to reach him quickly."

Gaius frowned. "Now, how exactly do you expect to manage that? Teleportation necklaces are very rare – only very advanced magic users can make them," Gaius said skeptically.

Merlin grinned. "I figured out how to do it without a physical anchor a long time ago," he said. "I simply tie it down to my magical signature instead. Takes about thirty minutes."

Gaius spluttered. Thirty minutes? That sort of spell usually took thirty days to complete. He told Merlin so.

Merlin grinned smugly. "Most people don't have direct access to the magic; they have to manipulate it with a mixture of land magic and and their own – very tedious, if you ask me. The hard part's going to be setting it up to alert me when the prat's in danger."

The physician gave Merlin an incredulous look.

"I can see magic," Merlin told him point blank.

"Like the dragons?" Gaius asked, trying to process this new information.

"More or less," Merlin agreed. "I've got a theory as to why I'm so powerful, but I'd like to do more research before I run it by Kilgharrah. That dragon loves to laugh at me."

"The dragon told you his name," Gaius noted blandly, deciding to not let anything take him by surprise anymore.

"Yup," he decided to lie. His knowledge of Balinor was a bit too hard to explain away. That reminded Merlin that he'd better pay his father a visit soon.

Gaius stared at Merlin, then supposed that it made sense. This remarkable boy was the son of a dragonlord after all, whether he knew it or not. He wondered if the dragon would tell him. But after a moment considering Kilgharrah's prideful nature, he thought not. The dragon probably somewhat resented the fact that there were mere humans who could control his every action. He probably would keep the knowledge from Merlin until it was absolutely necessary.

"Please don't tell Mother," Merlin asked him calmly. "I know you've been using merchants to send letters back and forth."

Gaius frowned. "And just why shouldn't I?" he asked, crossing his arms.

Merlin sighed. "Well, at least leave out the part where I battle evil on a daily basis," he conceded.

Gaius pursed his lips. "I don't like deceiving her, Merlin. She's you mother," he said. "She'd probably like to know that you've got at least a decent handle on your magic."

Merlin threw his hands in the air. "Fine! I'll tell her when I visit!"

"You're visiting her?" Gaius asked.

Merlin shrugged. "If Arthur ever gives me enough time off," he said. "I'm setting up another tunnel that I can move around at will."

"Tunnel?" Gaius questioned.

"Er... that's what a teleportation spell looks like," Merlin explained hastily.

"Really."

"Yup."

Gaius sighed. "Sometimes I think I'm getting a bit old for this," he said.

"You'd better not be," Merlin said. "We've got a long road ahead of us."

Gaius looked at him strangely. "I certainly hope not," he snapped, but without much conviction.

Merlin raised his eyebrows. "I wasn't lying when I told Nimueh I was going to create an underground escape route for captured magic users."

Gaius narrowed his eyes. "Merlin, I want you to talk to me before you do anything stupid."

"Fine, then. I'm going to see the druids first," Merlin said. "That's part of the reason I need a quick method of transportation."

"They're a pacifist group of people," Gaius said. "What makes you think they'll help you?"

"I'm not putting them in any danger," Merlin defended. "Well... not much danger, anyways. Besides, they'll probably listen to me just because I'm, well, me."

Gaius snorted. "Just because you're a powerful warlock, doesn't mean..."

"It would if I were Emrys," Merlin interrupted. "Now, I only have another hour before Arthur gets out of entertaining the Mercian knights, so I hope you don't mind if I get on with what I was doing?"

Gaius's jaw was dropped open. "Emrys," he mouthed.

Merlin made a face. "Oh, come on. Surely that's not that big of a surprise – I mean, look at what I can do!" He snapped his fingers and turned everything in the room green, including himself. He snapped his fingers again and turned everything back to normal. Merlin giggled to himself – one of the best spells he'd ever invented, in his personal opinion.

Although, Arthur hadn't been pleased with the pink castle.

"Come on! It's almost red!" Merlin had complained, while he'd been frantically (or at least appearing to be frantic) trying to change the stonework back to gray before the foreign dignitaries arrived. It had been fun watching Arthur greet them with a straight face – with a glowing, pink castle in the background.

"Who told you?" Gaius finally asked, bringing Merlin out of his memories.

"Hm? Oh, Kilgharrah," Merlin lied easily, dismissing the question.

That made Gaius remember... "What did you talk to the dragon about last night," he questioned. "Was that when he told you?"

"What?" Merlin asked. "Pfft, no. I asked him how to cure seizures."

Gaius's eyes widened. "You didn't..."

Merlin raised his eyebrows. "Of course I did. I'll be very surprised if that merchant boy ever suffers from them again," he said firmly. "And no, no one saw me. I put the entire inn to sleep."

Gaius gave his ward a gratified smile. "My boy, I don't what I'll do with you. That was very good of you, Merlin."

Merlin smiled back. "Thanks," he said gratefully, glad that Gaius was beginning to accept the fact that Merlin could get on by himself. "May I go back to meditating now?" he asked dully.

Gaius chuckled.

"Very well, but we're talking later," he said, shaking a finger at the boy.

"Don't count on it. Arthur's in a 'go muck out the stables' mood," Merlin sniffed. "And he says it's my fault! Sure, I may have been holding the hangover cure before it flew out the window. But he tackled me!"

Gaius snorted and backed out of Merlin's room, leaving the warlock to concentrate in peace.

O o O

"You're late, Merlin," Arthur drawled as Merlin pushed open the door, squeezing to fit both himself and Arthur's wooden tub through the slim opening.

"You're lucky I came at all," Merlin answered with a tired retort, lugging the tub near the fireplace.

Arthur gave Merlin a look. He realized that his manservant had a scrunched look on his face, as though he was fighting off immense bouts of pain. Arthur had seen the same look before many times on stubborn knights during tournaments.

But to see Merlin wearing that expression? Arthur frowned.

"Merlin?" he asked cautiously.

"What?" Merlin asked pointedly.

"You don't look well," Arthur said finally.

"Ah, well, I do have a splitting headache," Merlin said, almost sarcastically. He placed several logs in the fireplace.

Arthur leaned back against his bed-post. "Only a headache?" he asked, somewhat annoyed. He wasn't used to this whole, 'showing concern' stuff, and here he was, doing it for a mere headache. "But you look terrible."

"My head feels like it's about to explode," Merlin snorted. "Of course it hurts."

Merlin stopped trying to create a log pyramid and turned to look at Arthur. The prince was eying him as casually as he could, but Merlin could see the nervousness in his eyes. So he smiled slightly.

"Worried for me, are you, Sire?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

Arthur coughed. "Of course not. Whatever gave you that idea?" he snapped.

Merlin shrugged, then decided not to tease the prince any further. He was trying after all, in his own way.

"Don't worry about it, Arthur," he said casually, going back to setting up the fire. "I get headaches like these often enough. I'm used to it."

Arthur froze. Merlin got headaches like this all the time?

"How often?" he questioned hoarsely, although he desperately wanted to keep this conversation casual. Merlin didn't answer quickly enough, going along with his chore as though nothing were wrong. So Arthur demanded, "Merlin, how often?"

Merlin turned around again, holding up the tinder he'd been about to light. Arthur was no longer leaning casually against the bedpost; his posture had been replaced by a stiff, upright position.

The warlock narrowed his eyes. "Why?" he asked, and then Arthur realized that Merlin had picked up on his anxiety. How could he tell? It drove Arthur insane. For some strange, untouchable reason, Merlin could always tell.

Arthur cursed inwardly but didn't react, instead, he waved an arm dismissively. "No real reason. I just think you should... take it easier, okay?" he said, staring at Merlin.

Merlin frowned, suspicious.

Arthur – Prince Arthur at least – was never this concerned about his well-being. What had he done to change that?

It didn't seem as though he was going to get an answer from Arthur, though, because the prince was bolting for the door. "Just have my bath drawn by the time I get back," he said loftily, before quickly exiting. Merlin didn't even get a chance to protest/

He supposed he should be grateful.

Now he wouldn't have to haul twenty buckets of water up the stairs simply for the sake of appearances. Relaxing against the stone wall, Merlin's eyes glowed.

O o O

Gaius was pounding at some dried herbs when he heard his door squeak open. He turned, prepared to greet Lady Annabeth, the potion for her son ready, but was startled to see Prince Arthur standing in the doorway instead.

"Arthur?" he asked. "Is there something I can do for you?"

Arthur took a hesitant step into the physician's chambers. As a boy, he used to come down to see Gaius almost every day, but as he got older, the visits became far and in between, and only to dress wounds (or to yell at Merlin). Arthur felt slightly guilty about stopping. After all, Gaius had always been there for him, even when his own father had been unavailable.

"Arthur?"

Arthur blinked and realized that he'd been staring into space. He looked over at Gaius, who looked so unconcerned that he almost wondered if his worries were unfounded.

But he had to know. He had to be absolutely certain.

"Merlin gets headaches," he blurted out quickly, finding that the best way to deal with awkward situations was usually head-on.

Gaius raised his eyebrow. "Come again, Sire?" he asked.

Arthur took a deep breath. "Merlin just told me that he gets bad headaches... all the time," he drifted off, hoping Gaius would understand the implications. He didn't really feel like elaborating.

Gaius's eyebrow raised even further. Then he frowned.

"This is the first I've heard of it," he said.

For a second, Arthur was almost hopeful that Merlin had lied – just to make Arthur feel bad.

But then Gaius added, almost sounding annoyed, "But then again, that boy certainly likes to keep things to himself." He looked Arthur in the eye. "It's possible he's been hiding them from me."

Arthur felt his heart rise into his throat.

"Gaius?" he pleaded.

Gaius looked solemn. "Are you thinking of Fredrick?" he asked knowingly,

Arthur wilted.

Gaius sighed. "Somehow I doubt that Merlin has the same illness that Fredrick did," he said.

"Merlin looks dead on his feet, Gaius," Arthur argued, although not entirely certain why he was arguing. "It looks like his headache was really bad."

Gaius frowned. Why did Merlin never tell him about these things? The boy should know that he'd be happy enough to help.

"I asked him if he was alright," Arthur said, and missed the raised eyebrow Gaius sent in his direction, "and he shrugged it off and said he got headaches like that often."

Gaius's frown deepened. "Did he really," he muttered.

"If he's like Fredrick..." Arthur trailed off, his voice ending in a whisper.

Gaius was somewhat surprised. He knew how Merlin felt about Arthur, but this was the first he'd seen of those deep feelings being reciprocated.

"My boy," he put a comforting hand on Arthur's shoulder, "Merlin is a soul who doesn't get nearly enough sleep, plus he's constantly working – for either you or me. I wouldn't be surprised if the stress of it all gives him headaches every now and again."

Arthur didn't look particularly reassured. At the same time, the prince realized that he now had new things to think about. He hadn't known that Merlin worked for Gaius as well, though he supposed it should have been obvious.

Gaius, sensing Arthur's dissatisfaction with his answer, reassured, "Just to make sure, I'll ask him about it after the feast, and see if he has any more symptoms."

Arthur nodded slowly. He could deal with that.

O o O

Merlin closed the door behind them with a bang, not even caring. With his massive headache amplified by the rowdy feast, he felt utterly drained.

"I'm going straight to bed," he announced. "Arthur's armor can wait."

"Just a moment, Merlin," Gaius ordered sternly.

Merlin sighed, and twisted to face his guardian. "What?" he asked drowsily.

"Why didn't you tell me about your headaches?" Gaius demanded.

Merlin blinked, surprised. "How did you figure it out?" he asked, genuinely curious.

"Besides the fact that you look awful? Arthur told me," Gaius said.

"Arthur told you?" Merlin asked, incredulous. At least now he knew where Arthur had rushed off to while he prepared the prat's bath.

Gaius nodded stiffly.

"Why?" Merlin asked. "I knew he was bothered by something when I told him, but... why?"

Gaius sighed. "When he was about ten, his best friend died a rather horrible death – one of the beginning symptoms of his illness were bouts of headaches that would turn on and off rather frequently. Then one day, he keeled over in the middle of sparring practice... it all went downhill from there. He lasted about two weeks." Gaius sighed again sadly, remembering those weeks with a painful grimace.

Merlin frowned. He knew for a fact that Arthur hardly had any real friends at all during his childhood. Most of them had been friendly simply for the honor of claiming the prince as a playmate. In fact, in all his time with Arthur, there was only one who he'd ever... Merlin's eyes widened. Oh.

"Fredrick..." he whispered.

Gaius raised his eyebrows. "That was his name, yes," he said, looking at Merlin incredulously.

Merlin quickly searched for an explanation. "I- I heard Arthur mention him once, I think," he said, trying to look genuine.

Gaius stared at Merlin. Arthur never talked about Fredrick – not to anyone. There was no way he'd ever talk about his departed friend so casually, especially to his manservant, even if it was Merlin. Now that Gaius thought of it, this was not the first time his ward had known random information that he shouldn't have.

He wondered if it was a magical ability that Merlin hadn't told him of.

Perhaps.

But as far as Gaius could tell, Merlin was no seer.

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

"You can tell Arthur not to worry," Merlin said, either unaware of or ignoring Gaius's look. "My headaches aren't the cause of any horrible illnesses, it's simply a result of manipulating magic at such a large scale directly."

"That causes headaches?" Gaius asked, annoyed that Merlin had left out that particular detail from their earlier conversation.

Merlin grimaced, touching his forehead. "Unfortunately. Incurable too – has to go away naturally," he lamented. "I think it has to do with the fact that my magical threads are bonding with the foreign threads I've manipulated and are causing ripple distortions in the surrounding magic."

Gaius wasn't sure he'd entirely followed that. He knew about magic, but mostly for practical use and not so much of the theoretical mumbo-jumbo.

"How exactly am I supposed to reassure Arthur, then?" he snapped, more annoyed that Merlin was keeping things from him than the problem of Arthur's worries.

Merlin grinned slightly. "You can tell him that all the chores he's giving me are causing excessive amounts of stress," he said with a laugh. And with a glint in his eye he added, "Please specify mucking out the stables – that's not even really my job, anyways. We've got a legion of stableboys for that!"

The with a satisfied sniff he proclaimed, "Right then, I'm off. Good night, Gaius!"

His door shut with a click.

Gaius sighed. That boy was going to be the death of him

O o O

The next day, as Merlin prepared Arthur for the archery tournament, he noticed with fond exasperation that the prince was quieter and less insulting than usual.

"I'm not sick you know," he said finally, firmly, as he handed Arthur his belt.

Arthur took the belt before his servant's statement registered. He nearly dropped the belt. "What?" the prince asked, feeling mortified. Gaius had told him? He almost groaned; Merlin wasn't supposed to know that he'd been worried about him.

"It's just because I don't get enough sleep," Merlin said casually – that was the story he and Gaius had decided upon. "Besides, I've been getting them for years. If it was something bad, don't you think I'd know by now?"

Arthur clenched his teeth and nodded wordlessly.

Then he froze when he felt Merlin's hand on his shoulder.

"Thanks for noticing," his manservant said in a low voice, a surprising amount of gratitude filling his voice. Then of course he had to ruin it by laughing, " There's hope for you yet!"

Arthur shrugged Merlin's hand off his shoulder. He turned and demanded, "And what exactly that supposed to mean?"

Merlin just smiled and turned around, humming to himself as he gathered up the clothes Arthur had strewn across the floor.

Arthur scowled. Idiot, he thought to himself, trying not to be affected by Merlin's praise (if that's what it could be called).

"Oh, Merlin," he said, changing the subject, and thus, the awkward atmosphere, "you'll have to start packing for a week's journey."

He heard Merlin sigh.

"Why?"

"Because we're going to make a visit to Lord Reynard," he said. "He gave up part of his land for the treaty with Mercia, it's only proper to thank him personally."

Merlin did his best to keeping from laughing at the irony. Baron Reynard was exactly the person he wanted to see.

O o O

The patrol of Camelot's knights reigned in their horses when the forest suddenly thinned, revealing long, open fields.

"That wasn't so bad, now was it, Merlin?" Arthur laughed, slapping his manservant on the back Merlin winced, trying not to fall off his horse. He really needed at least twelve hours of sleep if he ever wanted to function normally again.

"Says the man who slept in while I did all the chores," Merlin retorted with a sniff, grateful to finally see signs of civilization ahead. He had originally thought that he'd have at least a week to prepare for this trip, but no... hours after Bayard's party had left, Uther had sent them on their way.

Merlin was just glad that he'd had the foresight to pack everything the night before.

"Come on, Merlin, lighten up," Arthur said, still looking annoyingly chipper. He tapped the sides of his horse and started the group up again. "Come on, you lot! We only have a couple miles left!"

The knights all cheered and brought their horses to a canter behind Arthur.

Merlin snorted and told his horse – Reginald – that they were going to stay at a trot in order to keep Haven company. The poor gelding was carrying the majority their supplies after all. Merlin was determined not to torture the tired animal further than Arthur already had by making him run. Maybe it was pure empathy – he related with the animal rather well.

Reginald seemed rather fine with this. He liked Merlin. The human was more interesting and less stupid than the other humans. He didn't even use the reigns.

"Would you like me to get off?" Merlin asked, leaning forward to pat the side of Reginald's head.

Reginald snorted. He was a warhorse, not a weakling.

Merlin laughed.

"Just like Arthur then, huh? Well thanks – I don't particularly feel like walking," he told the horse amiably. Reginald didn't react. The warlock wasn't sure how much horses understood him when he talked to them, but whenever he said something, they at least seemed to get the gist of it.

He smiled contentedly, and wondered how long it would take Arthur to realize that Merlin wasn't directly behind him.

O o O

Once Merlin reached the drawbridge (he was going have to tease Arthur later about his castle not having a proper moat) a familiar face walked between him and the entrance.

He almost called out, before remembering with some frustration that they'd technically never met before.

Miles looked really young. Well, not as young as Merlin, but he had hardly any wrinkles at all. In Merlin's time, the soldier had retired from fighting to being Lord Reynard's chief advisor. The man was brilliant, if his history was anything to go by – not that most of it had happened yet.

"Are you Prince Arthur's servant?" the man asked, somewhat rhetorically.

"More or less," Merlin answered.

Miles raised his eyebrows but didn't comment. "The rest of your party is inside. I've been given instructions to take you to the stables then direct you to Patrick, who will take you to your master's quarters."

Merlin dismounted his horse, figuring it would be polite to walk from there on out.

"How late am I?" he asked.

"Thirty minutes," Miles answered. "Not to worry – you missed nothing that concerns you."

Merlin snorted and allowed Miles to lead him on.

"So who are you?" he asked Miles.

Miles turned around, about to answer, but was surprised into silence. "Those horses must like you," he commented with amusement, noticing that they followed the servant without any prodding or tugging. He wasn't even holding onto the reigns.

Merlin smiled and glanced back at Haven and Reginald. "Animals like me," he commented, smiling at them fondly.

"Apparently," Miles said with a half-smile. "The name is Miles, captain of the guard."

"Merlin," the warlock introduced himself. "And I'm nobody and everybody all at the same time."

Miles raised his eyebrows.

"Sometimes Arthur can't make up is mind," Merlin explained in a conspiratorial voice.

Miles chuckled slightly.

"You are an odd one," Miles said conversationally. "I would have expected that the prince's manservant would be much more... subordinate." He frowned suddenly. "Or are you only like this when you aren't around Arthur?"

Merlin laughed outright. "He wishes," he supplied with a smirk.

Miles laughed appreciatively. This was a young man he could relate to, more or less.

Merlin grinned inwardly, pleased that Miles had been so receptive to him, even without knowing who he really was.

Unfortunately, their time together didn't last very long. The captain helped Merlin unpack the horses and called in a stableboy to take care of them, but after that, Merlin was handed over to Patrick. As the servant gave him the short castle tour, Merlin wondered briefly if the man was a cousin of George.

O o O

At supper, the table Reynard had graciously set places for all of Camelot's knights, even for those who weren't senior officers.

Goodness knows Reynard wasn't a friend to Uther – not that anyone would ever know until after years after the king was dead – but still, the man was unfailingly courteous and ever loyal to his country (even if he disagreed with many of his sovereign's policies). Merlin had liked the man as soon as he'd set eyes on him all those years ago. Reynard had been a bit cold towards Arthur at first, but as soon as he'd assured himself of the young king's sincerity, he'd opened up.

When Merlin thought of this, he wondered suddenly if any of that coldness would show up tonight. Probably not. Reynard could be an amazing actor when he needed to.

"Prince Arthur," the baron greeted with a formal bow, then rose with a smile.

Arthur stepped forwards and clasped arms with the man. "On behalf of my father, and of all Camelot, we thank you," he said sincerely. "Mercia would have been difficult to reconcile with if you had not been so willing to donate a portion of your land."

"The negotiations went well, I trust?" Reynard asked, leading Arthur to his chair.

"Very smoothly," Arthur said with a nod. Merlin let out a small cough.

"I hear you were part of it all," Reynard said with a slight smile. "Your father must think highly of you."

Merlin, standing in the background with the other servants, could almost see Arthur's head swelling with the praise. Still, Arthur was modest as he said, "I do the best I can."

Reynard nodded at sat down at the head of the table. Everyone else followed suit, looking rather starved.

"I apologize that my wife is unable to attend," Reynard said. "She was not feeling well this morning."

Merlin's eyes flickered knowingly.

Arthur's look was sympathetic. "I hope she has a speedy recovery."

"So do I," Reynard agreed lightly.

There was a slight pause.

"My father has sent some gifts for you," Arthur said, deciding that now would be a good time to give them. He motioned to Merlin. Some of the younger knights looked slightly annoyeds knowing that their meal was going to be delayed.

Merlin stepped out of the shadows, bearing several of the bulky objects Haven had carried for over fifty miles. In his opinion, they were rather boring: a really nice sword (Arthur had attempted to explain why it was a nice sword, but Merlin refused to hear it), some dusty family records, a tome dealing in herb-lore and healing, and a seal of honor.

Reynard looked at the wrapped gifts with interest.

"It was the least we could do," Arthur said.

Technically, Reynard was already exempt from paying taxes for seven years, but the lord knew better than to refuse an offered gift, so he nodded his head in thanks.

"Bring them here, Merlin," Arthur instructed.

Merlin brought them forward and placed them on the table in front of Reynard. Just as he lifted his head, their eyes met.

"My lord," Merlin said with a bow, breaking eye contact. He took in a deep breath, hoping that what he was planning later that night wouldn't backfire.

O o O

Baron Reyard sat at his desk, staring at the candle's glow. With a strip of his land gone, there were at least three-hundred people who were now homeless. Even with Uther's generous gifts, it was going to be difficult to keep them all alive.

There was a slight gust of wind and the sound of boots thudding against the floor in front of him. The candle flickered until it went out.

Immediately alert, Reyard rose up and held his sword in front of him defensively. He growled in anticipation as his eyes adjusted to the shadows, only to meet the gaze of Arthur's manservant.

He blinked and nearly dropped his sword arm.

The young man's eyes were glowing.


A/N: Perhaps you noticed that Gaius is getting suspicious. I just wanted to say that I was inspired by Americanathogwarts to do that. We'll see how it goes. I haven't decided whether or not he'll actually figure it out.