Heyo! I'm gonna keep this short since nobody ever really reads the author's notes (including me ha), but I just wanted you all to know that this is my first time writing a fanfiction so bear with me here. XD I'll try to get into a schedule of updating, but don't expect anything yet haha!

Also, a few things about the story:

Main pairing is Merlin/Arthur, and since I'm not that good at writing slash, I'm gonna keep it as non-slash and MAYBE some UST depending on what happens as I write.

This takes place somewhere between 4x03 and 4x09, so Gwen is still a servant and not exiled, Arthur was just recently crowned king, and Agravaine is still there (as well as Gaius and Merlin's suspicions/awareness of him).

There will probably be some warnings of attempted non-con (NOT Merlin/Arthur), claustrophobic situations, hurt/comfort, violence, and all that jazz later on, but not for a while.

I think that's it. So without further ado, ONWARD AND ENJOY! Please review and thank you so much!

Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin and, sadly, never will. (If I did though, Merlin and Arthur would have already kissed by season 1!)

Chapter 1: A Beautiful King and Queen

"So are you going to tell me what's wrong with you or not?"

Merlin watches as Arthur puts down his fork and hums a noncommittal sound, staring off into space once more.

It's been quite a strange morning despite it barely just beginning. Merlin had thrown open the curtains with his usual, "Rise and shine!" while expecting a launched object hitting his head or an angry jumble of sleepy grumbling from the bed, but Arthur only sat up and rubbed his eyes, staying silent. Then Merlin had attempted to make an excuse for the cold and late breakfast on the table ("I had herbs to pick for Gaius again!") as Arthur sat down, but he only waved a hand in dismissal. Merlin hasn't been able to coax a proper word out of Arthur ever since rousing him, which worries him. When Arthur is quiet, he's thinking, and when he's thinking…

But all Merlin knows is that today is an important day that would consist of King Lewis Pierce of Elaendra and his Queen Rosabella arriving and staying at the castle for at least a week. Rumors flying around with the servants say that the young king, once a prince fifteen years ago, apparently comes every few years just for the sake of friendship between Elaendra and Camelot. The older servants in the kitchen tell him that Lewis' father had been absolutely loyal to Uther ever since the Great Purge, when Lewis had been attacked by sorcerers in the forest and almost died. Elaendra, a kingdom on Ascetir's southeast side, could almost be considered as another Camelot with the amount of persecution it gives their sorcerers—a fact that still causes Merlin's stomach to twist into knots.

But then the younger ones had interrupted and gushed about Lewis' breathtakingly good looks and kind personality and Rosabella's beauty. It's a bit of a wonder how Merlin hasn't ever heard about Lewis, Rosabella, or even Elaendra in all the years he's been at Camelot until now, really.

And if Merlin didn't know any better, he would think they worshipped the young royals and the ground they walk on more than their own king. But then again, Merlin wouldn't know since he had come to Camelot only a few months after Lewis had last visited.

"This is actually the longest since Lewis has been away," Gwen had told him the day before, having grown up in Camelot and witnessing his visits herself as Morgana's maid. "You haven't ever met him before, have you?"

"No, but from what I hear, he's almost more admired than Arthur," he replied, his lips turned up with a slight smirk.

Gwen laughed. "He doesn't throw goblets at his servants, for one."

"Then I think I had better quit and work for Lewis," he said, a smile lighting his face, though they both knew Merlin would never walk away from Arthur even if his life was on the line.

Thinking about that conversation now as he tidies up Arthur's bed, Merlin frowns, still trying to figure out Arthur's grim mood. "Is this about me quitting? Did Gwen tell you what I said?"

Finally, Arthur snaps out of it to glance at Merlin over his shoulder with a cross between confusion and annoyance. "What?"

Merlin sighs. "I swear, I was only joking and I wouldn't ever leave you to dress yourself. That would be a nightmare, not just for you but for the whole kingdom because your state of dress when left to your own devices is somewhat appalling. We both know you're a bit needy without me but—"

Arthur cuts him off, the prattish look back on his face. "Merlin, what are you talking about? You sound like a blabbering fool."

"Ah, there you are," Merlin says, grinning widely as he smooths down Arthur's sheets and straightens with hands on his hips. "You haven't said a word all morning. I'm almost glad to hear your supercilious tone again."

Arthur grunts, once more picking up his fork and digging into his sausages. "But I'm not glad to hear you and your idiocy."

Merlin picks up some dirty clothes off the floor and laughs. "Arthur, you can't insult your servant after he says he's going to quit or else he really will quit."

Arthur doesn't reply, his dark mood seemingly seeping back.

"What is it?" Merlin asks, trying to keep him talking. A bit of concern crawls into his throat. "You've never acted like this before when someone was visiting Camelot. Why now?"

"I don't trust Lewis," Arthur says bluntly, his voice strangely bitter. He doesn't look up from his food. "There's something about him that feels…odd. Like he's too good to be true. He's always looked up to my father and been completely polite and kind, but…" He trails off.

"—he doesn't seem to be who he really is," Merlin finishes quietly. He knows that feeling much too well.

Arthur nods in agreement before shooting him a surprised look that silently demands how would you know?

Merlin shrugs, laying out Arthur's clothes and armor. Maybe one day he'll tell him the how and why. But for now…

"Well, I haven't ever met him, so I'll just have to see for myself, won't I?" he quips while Arthur stands and strides over to be dressed. They don't say anything more, silence only being filled by rustling of clothing and clinking of chain mail.

Finally, Arthur speaks. "But Merlin, believe me when I say you shouldn't be cheeky in front of him. I've known him since we were children—although he may be kind now, he wasn't when he was younger, and I don't know how he treats his servants now. When I first met him, he—" Arthur stops, his wide blue eyes lifting to meet Merlin's in an undeniably frightened look, like a deer in the moment before it's shot with an arrow.

"What?"

He shakes his head, tearing his gaze away and swallowing so that Merlin can see his Adam's apple move up and down. "Nothing. Just—be careful around him, all right?"

Merlin scoffs as his pale, slender fingers tighten Arthur's breastplate. "You almost sound worried for me. But all right, I'll be a perfectly obedient servant." At Arthur's wary look, as if unsure about whether or not he's being sincere, Merlin continues, "Honestly, maybe there's nothing to worry about. You're probably just jealous that somebody else can overshadow the King of Camelot."

Now it's Arthur's turn to scoff. "Nobody overshadows the King of Camelot."

Merlin tuts. "Is it too late to quit yet?"

A couple knights passing by the king's chambers shake their head knowingly when they hear a smack and a yelp of pain coming from inside.

*M*

"Hey, Merlin, you up for a drink with me at the tavern tonight?" Gwaine calls out from behind as Arthur and Merlin round a corner.

"Why, so you could drown out your sorrows of losing the women of Camelot to Lewis?" Merlin calls back, beaming. He ignores Arthur's glare from beside him.

Gwaine catches up to them and flicks his hair away from his face. "Oh come on, Merlin, nobody can take the women away from me, you know that."

"Why do you sound so much like this prat from just a few minutes ago?"

Gwaine makes a mock disgusted look. "I am nothing like this princess."

Arthur rolls his eyes. "I appreciate the very clever nicknames, but unfortunately, we have guests to welcome."

They settle in place on the stone stairs leading into the castle with the other knights and council members. If any of them want to comment on Gwaine's usual antics, they keep their mouths shut.

"Oh, I think the princess is just angry that no one will be lookin' at him for the next week, isn't he, Merlin?"

"Right! Though not that many look at him anyway."

Arthur is opening his mouth to snap a reply when a gallop of hooves on the cobblestones approach the citadel. Merlin watches as his king immediately smooths into the regal, calm monarch and arranges himself into a stiff stance, hands behind his back. His crown glistens in the sunlight, strengthening the warmth Merlin feels in his chest whenever he sees hints of Arthur, the Once and Future King, gain more of the ability to unite all of Albion. Merlin himself stands a respectful distance behind him to his right while everyone positions themselves in a line on Arthur's same stair step. Agravaine, Merlin notices, takes his place at Arthur's right side.

Before long, a parade of decorated horses, a jeweled carriage, and embellished servants and knights dressed in Pierce black and purple appear in the courtyard with heads held high. The Pierce family crest is painted on almost every available surface—a ceremonial sword literally piercing a shield with the tip jutting out the other side. The whole sight is so damn predictable that Merlin can't help chuckling.

But Arthur's shoulders tense up as soon as he does. He stifles himself and clears his throat.

Once the carriage finally stops, servants rush to open the door before a young man steps out, a grin that reveals all his straight white teeth already on his face.

Merlin raises his eyebrows. For all that he's gossiped to be, for all his extravagant processions, King Lewis Pierce doesn't live up to much expectation. He looks quite simple, actually. With the exception of his hair, a chestnut brown color that swoops over his forehead stylishly, and his elegant crown, his sweet caramel eyes and freckles aren't that legendary.

Then Merlin looks down.

Okay, now he understands just a bit more. Lewis' tall, lean physique resembles Arthur's in a way that screams I've spent my whole life sword fighting and knight training. That, plus one of his charming smiles, increases Merlin's awareness of the maids hovering in the castle doors behind him, whispering excitedly and giggling.

"Arthur," Lewis exclaims, opening an arm to pull Arthur in for a hug, "so good to see you."

Arthur smiles, the smile which Merlin notices is reserved for looking perfectly charismatic and kingly, and gives Lewis a quick hug back. "Lewis. Always a pleasure to see you as well."

"What, is it not a pleasure to see me?" a feminine voice speaks out from behind Lewis, and Merlin cranes his head around to see Queen Rosabella pouting as she steps around Lewis to face Arthur. Merlin's jaw drops—at first all he sees is a long, curly mane of red hair before his gaze catches onto sharp, electric blue eyes that seem to crackle in the sunlight. Her beauty is strikingly intimidating, reminding Merlin of Morgana—except where Morgana would project an air of confidence, Rosabella seems to rein in her admirers just from her gaze. It's like a spell, seizing the awed looker's mind and forcing their attention towards her.

"Rosabella, Camelot never tires of your beauty," Arthur replies smoothly as he kisses her hand.

Agravaine steps up to kiss Rosabella's hand as well. "Rosabella. I trust you had a pleasant journey?"

She wrinkles her nose. "A bit too bumpy, a bit too cold, a bit too hot—but as pleasant as it can be, I suppose."

Agravaine laughs. "Well, I'm glad to know I will always have your honesty to rely on." He turns to Lewis, giving him a firm nod. "Your Majesty."

Lewis inclines his head, but a smile still graces his features. "Agravaine. I haven't seen you since I was a boy. A mere princeling. Where have you been all these years?"

The man in question chuckles, but Merlin notices it as a source of nervousness. "Here and there," he replies. "But now that Arthur has become king, I felt it was my duty to come back to Camelot and aid him into becoming a king as great as his father." His voice is too smooth for Merlin's liking, and he suppresses an urge to roll his eyes.

Arthur's tense shoulders stiffen even more, and he looks down briefly before clearing his throat. "Yes. This is indeed your first visit without my father, isn't it?"

"I still send my regards. I'm sure he is in a better place now, Arthur." Lewis places his hand on Arthur's shoulder and squeezes. Arthur nods in gratitude.

Movement from the corner of his eye causes Merlin to notice as Gwaine subtly but frantically runs a hand through his hair and adjusts his cloak in an attempt to make himself look more presentable. Stepping forward, Gwaine offers, "My Lady, if you would allow me to escort you to your chambers?"

Rosabella blinks before her mouth quirks into a smirk, and she giggles a bit as Gwaine takes her hand and leads her up the stairs. This time, Merlin can't help but roll his eyes.

All around them, the council members have dispersed, and Camelot's servants help Elaendra's servants haul trunks and bags up the stairs. Merlin spots Gaius in discussion with a dark skinned, middle aged woman, presumably the physician judging by her circular medical bag.

Arthur nudges him with an elbow, and he refocuses on him and Lewis. Arthur gestures to Merlin with an arm. "Lewis, this is my manservant, Merlin. Should you ever need anything when I'm busy, he is always available."

Lewis nods, his gaze sliding up and down Merlin's body as if memorizing every feature thoroughly. He wears a different kind of smile now, one that lifts the corner of his lips rather than showing his teeth. Merlin doesn't know what to make of it.

"I'm at your service at any time, Your Majesty," he manages to say instead as he bows respectfully. He can only blush a bit as Lewis bends down to bow back, his caramel eyes never leaving his.

"I'm happy to hear that," Lewis murmurs, his voice noticeably lower and softer.

Arthur, clearly unsettled by the amount of attention Lewis has given Merlin, starts up the stairs before motioning for Lewis to follow him. "You can rest in your chambers for a few hours. I'm sure you're tired after the journey. I'll send a servant to pick you up for dinner…"

Merlin tries to trail after them, but his arm is grabbed as there is a thump behind him. He whirls around, his magic instinctively bubbling to the surface, but it's only an Elaendra servant.

"Wait. Help me with this chest, will you?" he pants, hands on his knees to catch his breath. A large silver chest stands on the stair.

Merlin steps over to grab one side while the servant grabs the other, and they both lift it with a slight grunt. Indeed, the chest is quite heavy, as if there are bars of gold filled to the brim. They struggle to the top of the stairs before putting it down again.

"What is in here?" Merlin asks incredulously, a bit breathlessly. "I can only remember having to carry a chest this heavy once before, but even then I could carry it myself." Flashes of the melee tournament a couple years back pass through his head, with a Sir Oswald, Sir Ethan, and an exiled but noble Gwaine.

The Elaendra servant scratches his head of short blond hair. "I've always had the job of carrying this, but it seems I'm coming down with a fever, so I'm a little weaker than usual."

Merlin looks at him sharply. "Then you should be resting, not hauling around chests filled with gold! I'll get Gaius to give you something."

The servant tilts his head in confusion. "Gold? No, no. This chest isn't filled with gold." Once again, their gazes drift to the silver chest. "It's uh…" He pauses hesitantly for but a moment. "It's empty."

Merlin narrows his eyes. "It's empty," he repeats, disbelieving. The servant nods, his gaze darting quickly around the courtyard. "Then why is it so heavy? And why did you need to bring it?"

The servant sighs, a resigning tone to the exhalation of breath. "Hell if I know. I've always just been told to bring it wherever the king visits, no matter what, and not to ask any questions."

"Do you ever even use it?"

He doesn't answer. Rather, he sticks out his hand towards Merlin. "I'm Elliot. King Lewis' manservant."

Merlin takes his hand with a smile. "I'm Merlin, King Arthur's manservant. I think we're going to get along well." He leans in to whisper. "Is King Lewis secretly a prat too?"

Elliot gasps, looking around alarmingly. "Are you always this rude toward royals?"

Merlin throws back his head to laugh. "If only you can hear the story when Arthur and I first met." They both pick up the chest again to haul into Lewis' chambers. Merlin ignores the tingle of suspicion in his gut about the chest. "He was being a complete clotpole towards another servant…"

Merlin manages to make Elliot laugh at least five times before they get to their destination.