A Marriage that Started a Legend

by IJustShowedUp

Follows canon but with my own arranged marriage spin on it. What happens when Hunith makes a mistake and is forced on the run with her infant son? What happens when Camelot knights find her twenty years later? What happens when Arthur learns he's betrothed to a peasant boy? Will Merlin be able to stand among royalty? Will these two different boys survive each other? Review!

13. Chapter 13

Merlin was sitting in the chair at his desk. His leg was going up and down, jittering with his nerves. He was rapping his fingers against his knee, trying to get his anxious energy out somehow. Nothing he did though made any of his anxiousness lesson. He doubted that anything would. He felt awkward and uncomfortable in his new clothes, they were nothing like his normal clothes.

He winced, not for the first time in the last several minutes. Rebecca stood behind him, running a brush through his hair, trying to force it into submission. But Rebecca didn't know his hair like he did. Nothing he'd ever done had made it lay completely flat. He'd always had that one piece that would stick up. And the weird thing was that it was never the same piece. It was always a different one which had always been a mystery to Merlin.

"It's hopeless trying." Merlin stated, trying to make conversation. He winced again at another harsh tug to his hair.

"I'll get it one way or the other." Rebecca grunted, her frustration growing. The one thing she'd always prided herself on was her ability to fix hair. Many of the other girls would come to ask for her advice if they were having a bad hair day. So why was the peasant boy's hair giving her so much trouble? She'd never encountered somebody with such thick and unruly hair.

Merlin's eyes were trained in front of him, trying not to wince at the brush. But of course he couldn't help himself. He wondered briefly if Arthur ever had this problem with his hair. Probably not, the jerk thought that he was so perfect, his hair was probably as perfect as he thought he was.

Why did everything have to be so complicated? First the marriage arrangement, then that awful prince, and now even his own hair was turning against him. What else was life going to throw at him before the night was over?

While he was sitting there, his mind swirling with unwanted thoughts, his eyes caught on to the door that was almost hidden beside his wardrobe. That weird mystery door he'd discovered when he'd been exploring his room that first hour he was here. The one he'd tried to walk through only to crash into because it was locked.

Sitting there with his thoughts wondering, his curiosity started to grow again. What was behind it? Why was it locked? Why was it in his room if he wasn't allowed to go into it? It seemed kind of weird to have a door connected to his room that he wasn't allowed to enter.

"Do you need help, Rebecca?" Rachael asked the other girl, walking up beside her. She had her lips quirked up into an amused grin. She knew how strongly the other girl felt about her ability towards hair. It was almost amusing to find someone whose hair actually stumped her.

"I can do it!" Rebecca protested even as she gave another sharp yank to his hair.

Rachael opened her mouth to say something back when Merlin interrupted them. "Hey, what's that door?"

Both girls stopped their arguing to follow his gaze with equal frowns of confusion. Neither girl had acknowledge the door before, to busy with preparing Merlin for what was coming in just over an hour now.

"It's the door that leads to the prince's bed chambers." Madame Teresa said from behind them. She was sitting on the edge of Merlin's window sill, filing her nails it looked like. But even with her apparent disinterest in what was going on, her eyes never actually left what her two assistants were doing to Merlin. She had to make sure everything was going right or her reputation was on the line if he went out in anything that was less than perfect.

Merlin felt his eyes almost bug out, "W-what?" He croaked out. He almost felt the color draining from his face, his thoughts swirling in confusion. Why did he have a door that led to Arthur's room? It was bad enough that the prat, forgive him, 'prince', was next door. But now he had an actual door that led straight into his chambers? What was the point in that? Whose great idea was it to add a door between the bedrooms?

"Don't worry about it so much." Madame Teresa said dismissively. "I'm sure the prince has more honor than to come barging in while you're changing or sleeping."

Merlin actually hadn't thought about those points. He just didn't like being so close to Arthur. But now that he was, he could feel the paleness his face had gone heating up into a flush. He really was gonna kill that prat if he walked in while Merlin was changing.

But then another thought struck him. Oh god, what if Arthur walked in while he was using magic? His hut back home had always been a sort of safe haven. A place where he could do small things without fear of being caught. He'd just kind of assumed his new room would be similar to that as well. But it wasn't, was it?

Was there really nowhere safe in Camelot where he could practice magic without getting caught? Probably nowhere actually but what else should he expect from a kingdom that persecuted his kind.

Merlin swallowed hard past the lump growing in his throat. He could almost feel the phantom touch of an executor placing an ax to line up on his neck.

Rebecca had frozen during this conversation, not moving the brush still pressed against the top of Merlin's head.

Rachael stood on the other side of Merlin, bursting into giggles with a strangely suggestive grin on her face. "Hey, I know I wouldn't mind a mid-night wake up call. The prince is really cute."

Merlin screwed his face up in disgust. Okay, even he could admit that Arthur had some strangely compelling features. But the whole 'I'm better than you' attitude the prat had ruined whatever effect he would have had on Merlin otherwise. "He better not be waking me up in the middle of the night." Merlin huffed. He would have to shove his desk in front of the door or his wardrobe. Anything to stop Arthur from just walking in whenever.

Rebecca reached over Merlin to swat at Rachael. "Don't be talking like that." She hissed. "Merlin's marrying him, you can't just go around telling him you wouldn't mind his husband going to your room."

"Why would he go to her room?" Merlin asked dumbly. Rachael looked strangely offended but Merlin didn't know why.

Rebecca giggled though, "Exactly. There's no reason for the prince to be in her room. Especially so late at night." She finished her sentence by enunciating each word, sending a glare towards the other girl.

Rachael shrugged it off, pouting. "Yeah, well a girl can dream, right? Just because the prince is off the market doesn't mean I can't still look. Besides, I'm just a serving girl. No noblemen is going to look twice at us."

"Don't lump me in with you." Rebecca protested, starting to run the brush through Merlin's hair again.

"Hey, if one of you wanna marry him, you can take my place." Merlin said hopefully. Rebecca and Rachael looked at each other over the top of his head before bursting into giggles as if they thought he was just joking. Merlin slumped a little in his chair. Yeah, he should have known that wouldn't work.

"Girls, do not go around frightening him." Madame Teresa said calmly. "Besides, you both know as well as I do that the rumors say Prince Arthur not only keeps the door locked but has it blocked off with something on his side. So there will be no midnight visits going on through that doorway."

Merlin let out a sigh of relief, hoping that that was true. He really hoped he didn't have to worry about the prat coming into his room in the middle of the night. He couldn't play with his magic if he was constantly worried about somebody barging in on him.

Rebecca and Rachael were both pouting though, as if they were wishing there were some kind of midnight visits. Although really, if the girls wanted the prince to disturb their sleep then he would be more than happy to trade rooms with them.

That was when Rebecca's brush caught on another snag in his hair, making him yelp.

"Okay!" Rebecca finally tossed the brush onto his desk. "I admit it, I give up! I have finally met the one person whose hair I cannot tame." Merlin could feel his scalp burning from the harsh treatment it had undergone. He reached up to rub at it before Rachael swatted his hand away.

"Don't mess up what little she did manage to do." Rachael protested. "Now lean forward and let me put this on you."

Merlin went to lean forward while Rachael crouched down in front of him to reach him better. But Merlin stopped when he saw Rachael uncapping a black stick. "Wait, what's that?" He exclaimed. "Isn't that makeup?"

"Just a little." Rachael urged him, moving her hand up to his eye. But Merlin leaned back, eyes narrowing on the small tube of black liquid clinging to the little makeup brush.

"You do realize that I'm not a girl, right?" Merlin protested. "I am not wearing makeup." He had to draw a line somewhere.

"Trust me, nobody with a chest as flat as yours could claim to be a girl." Rebecca retorted from behind him.

"It's supposed to be flat!" Merlin exclaimed, his voice cracking in a way that it hadn't since he'd first entered puberty all those years ago. Rebecca was standing behind him, firmly planting her hands on his shoulders as if she was going to hold him still. Rachael was perched on her hunches, still trying to get him to hold still so that she could put the black liquid on him. His eyes flicked over to Madame Teresa who was now watching their interaction with focused eyes. "Madame Teresa!" Merlin exclaimed. "A little help here."

But Madame Teresa just waved him off, looking entirely unconcerned. "It's just a little bit of dark color around the eyes. It'll make the color of your eyes pop, lots of nobles wear this."

"How many of those nobles are women?" Merlin grumbled under his breath, clutching at the bottom of his chair in a death grip. He was liking this less and less.

"Don't be such a baby." Rachael said cheekily. "A little eye color is hardly the end of the world. Now hold still or I'll end up popping out your eye."

"Popping out my eye!" Merlin echoed loudly. He couldn't help but notice how Madame Teresa never answered his question on the nobles that wore this being mainly women. "No, no, no. I draw the line at this one."

And no matter how hard Rebecca tried to hold him still, Rachael wasn't able to put it on him. He was wiggling so much that she had no choice but to step back. He almost wished that he was back in the stocks instead of wrestling two girls barely younger than him.

"Ugh, fine!" Rachael exclaimed after several minutes of struggling later. "I give up! You will just have to go on without but I'm telling you, it would have been a hit!"

"I'm sure they'll survive without seeing me in makeup." Merlin said dryly, face screwed up in disgust.

Rachael pouted before finally standing up. "Well if we can't put this on you then what else is there to do?"

"I think that was everything!" Rebecca exclaimed from behind him. "He's all done!"

He was done? He'd finally finished getting dressed? God, if it was this painful just getting dressed, he couldn't even begin to imagine the pain he'd be going through in the next hour or so.

At the girl's announcement, Madame Teresa finally stood to her feet. Her eyes were suddenly a lot more focused then they had been the entire time she'd left her girl's to work. She walked over, straight backed and chin held high with pride as she looked over Merlin. Merlin almost slunk back in his chair under her surprisingly stern look.

After several long moments where Madame Teresa stared him down in silence, she finally said, "Stand, child! Let me get a good look at you!"

Merlin jumped, startled by the sudden loudness in her voice. He jolted to his feet, Rebecca pulling the chair away from him as she pushed it back under his desk. Rebecca and Rachael then stepped back, looking solemn as they waited for Madame Teresa to give her final assessment.

Merlin stood stock still, practically feeling his anxiety start to rise when Madame Teresa started looking him up and down. And then she was walking around him, circling around him for several long rounds without a word. It was very strange and made Merlin feel more self-conscious than he otherwise would have. But then again, that just might be the odd clothing. The rich fabric that practically seemed to burn his skin where it touched since he was used to the much more worn out hand me downs that he'd always worn.

It was several more spins around him before Madame Teresa stopped from pretty much analyzing him. The three teenagers were almost overcome by the serious look on the matron's face.

"Well, did we do a good job?" Rachael suddenly blurted out. Only to scream 'ow!' A moment later when Rebecca hit her on the back of the head.

When Madame Teresa still didn't say anything, Merlin gave a surprisingly bitter smile, "So? Am I acceptable to be married off to a prince?" He almost felt as if he was a prisoner of war. He'd heard of stories where a kingdom was overtaken by another's armies and the children of the royal family were taken if they weren't outright killed. If they were old enough, they to would be forced into an arranged marriage with their conquerer.

Only he wasn't a prisoner of war. Knights may have stormed his home, if you could call it that, to bring him here but they hadn't taken control of their village. And he was no prince. Even if for whatever reason, Camelot decided to expand their territory and start by taking the outer laying villages of Cenred's kingdom, Ealdor being one of them, he wouldn't have been a priority. He'd probably be the last one that they would have taken prisoner, let along be the one they decide to marry off to their prince.

They probably would have gone with Cynthia if they had a choice. She was known as the prettiest girl in the village, within their age group at least. She would have probably made herself right at home here in Camelot. Hell, she'd probably make a better-whatever Merlin was supposed to be. Did marrying Arthur make him a prince to? God, he hoped not. That would just be one more thing about him that he didn't want to add on.

Madame Teresa ignored the outburst from her assistant, her only focus being on Merlin. "Do you have a mirror?" She asked the young boy. All nobles had some kind of mirror in their bedroom. It was a pretty standard item. Even peasants who couldn't afford a fancy mirror like the ones in the castle would have some kind of reflective surface to check their appearance.

Merlin glanced around because he didn't have a mirror. At least not one just sitting out. But didn't he have a mirror? He could have sworn he'd seen one when he was exploring his room...and that was when he remembered exactly where the mirror he was thinking about was. "Yeah, it's in the wardrobe." He said, nodding to the large wardrobe situated against the wall. The wardrobe that was completely bare except for the large mirror taking over the inside of the door.

Madame Teresa strode over to the wardrobe doors with long strides. She grabbed the handles and practically threw his doors open. "Come Merlin, come." She gestured to the boy. "Come and see how handsome my girls have made you."

Rebecca and Rachael standing somewhere behind him let out shaky sighs of relief. But Merlin stood stock still, frozen where he stood. He didn't want to see how he looked. Not in these weird clothes, his scalp still burning from where Rebecca had tried to tame it. And thank God he'd managed to evade what Rachael was trying to do to his eyes. He'd probably would have looked like a raccoon if she succeeded.

If he didn't look, he would at least be able to pretend for just a bit longer that this wasn't actually happening. That this wasn't happening to him out of the other millions of people that this could have happened to instead of him. But it wasn't happening to someone else. It was happening to him and there was no denying it. Not when he was standing there, looking so much like himself but at the same time, probably looking nothing like he usually did.

But Madame Teresa was waving him on again, looking more frantic than she had before. What little time they had left to prepare him was dwindling down to nothing. There was probably less than an hour left before they would come for him. Before they would come and lead him downstairs to where his life would end.

Maybe he was being over dramatic but at this moment, it felt like anything but. How else was he supposed to feel? Because all he felt was this hopeless and crushing weight on his chest that just got heavier and heavier with every breath he took. Because every breath he took was another step closer to saying 'I Do'.

There was no getting out of this. There was no stalling or killing for a little extra time. It was just him and his mirror. Each step he took towards it felt like a mile instead, each exhale he took felt like he was one step away from having a complete meltdown. Digging his nails into the palm of his hands, feeling the sting of his nails as they pressed dangerously tight against his pale flesh was the only thing keeping him rooted down to his reality. The only thing keeping him from going off the deep end.

He finally reached Madame Teresa, eyes focused on hers and avoiding the mirror beside them. Madame Teresa grabbed him by his shoulders though and turned him to face the reflection. She stood right behind him, hands on his shoulders as to keep him there, stopping him from looking away from the mirror.

As if he could.

Not when he saw what he did.

The rich fabric clung to him oddly, he wasn't used to clothes that fit. And tailored clothes that were measured just for him? It was even stranger. His cobalt blue shirt, his dark pants and sturdy brown boots. It seemed simple but the way it was made, it was obvious that it should have been worn by somebody who wasn't just a simple peasant boy. His hair had been somewhat smoothed from the frantic brushing but it was already starting to bounce back, sticking out in places. And his eyes were slightly rimmed in red from how many times Rebecca had tried to touch him with her makeup stick but he kept jerking away. He hoped the redness would go away before he went out there. The last thing he wanted was people thinking he'd been up here crying or something.

Even with the fancy clothes, he still recognized himself easily. Because the fancy clothes or the redness of his eyes hadn't changed a damn thing. He was still a peasant boy, still a sorcerer, still a klutz. He was still just Merlin.

Which was strange because shouldn't he feel different? Shouldn't he feel something?

Maybe it was the way he was standing, in a slighty casual slouch that he normally walked around in. He tried to straighten himself up but all that did was make him feel stupid. Like he was trying to impress somebody. Only there was nobody he wanted to impress, lest of all Arthur.

His eyes were looking dim now as a sense of numbness washed over him. He didn't feel any different. This was his wedding day and he wasn't even going to pretend it was a happy occasion. All he could do was stare at himself in the mirror, waiting for something to happen. Waiting for some sense of self to return to him.

But it didn't.

It was like he was looking at himself but at the same time, he wasn't looking at himself at all.

It was sudden when he felt the bile rise up in his throat. He had to swallow hard to force it back down before he threw up all over his new clothes. Although really, that probably would have been an improvement. He'd never worn clothes that didn't have something wrong with it. The ones he wore now didn't have anything wrong with them. They were pristine and perfect, lined up perfectly with what little curve or muscle that he had.

He hated it.

He didn't feel like he was about to start walking to his wedding. He felt as he did when he was little, playing with the chest that held his mother's clothes. As if she had found him playing dress up.

Because this was exactly what it felt like. As if he were playing dress up with somebody else's clothes. It made him feel ill all over again.

"Don't you look handsome?" Madame Teresa asked brightly, lightly squeezing his shoulders.

"Yeah, handsome." Merlin repeated quietly, his eyes never leaving his own in his reflection. But his voice sounded strange to his ears. It sounded muffled, like he had cotton in his ears or something.

"I still think we should do the makeup." Rachael tried again, hand itching towards her black makeup stick.

"No!" Merlin said quickly, eyes shooting over to her. He cleared his throat and looked back towards his mirror, forcing back his look of disgust. "No," he said more quietly. "I think I'm fine just like this." Well he wasn't fine but he doubted the makeup stick would have made him feel any better, if not worst about himself.

Rebecca and Rachael started moving in the background behind him. They were packing their supplies back into their satchels. Not that he was paying them to much attention. He was to busy wishing that he could burn these clothes. How easy it would be to just light them on fire without lifting a finger.

He almost didn't care about the fact that he would still be wearing them.

At that moment, there was a quiet knock on the door. Merlin didn't even move to acknowledge it when the sound rung out through the room.

"Rebecca, make sure that's not the prince." Madame Teresa hissed, ready to shove the boy behind the privacy screen if she needed. She refused to allow their hard work to be for nothing by allowing the prince to see the final product before it was time.

Rachael started buckling up the satchel with their supplies while Rebecca hiked up her dress and hurried to the door. She opened it a crack, just far enough for her to peek out. After a moment, Rebecca tugged the door opened and allowed the man to enter.

"Uncle Gaius!" Merlin exclaimed when he saw the man enter through the reflection in the mirror. He turned, feeling himself relax just a bit. Uncle Gaius was a familiar face that he was relieved to see during this troubling day.

"Merlin." Gaius said simply, readjusting the satchel he had slung over his shoulder. Neither man said a word as the three women started to file out the room, giving Merlin a moment of privacy with Gaius before the wedding started.

"We'll see you at the wedding, honey. Now don't do anything to ruin our hard work." Lady Teresa said as they headed to the door.

"Oh, and don't forget about that!" Rebecca called over her shoulder, waving her hand over to a piece of red cloth spread out on the far corner of his bed. Merlin gave it a disgruntled look.

It was only after the three women left completely did Merlin feel himself relax some. "Uncle Gaius, what are you doing here?" He asked quietly, tugging on the sleeve of his shirt self-consciously.

"What, I can't visit my favorite nephew on his wedding day?" Gaius scoffed, setting his bag on the edge of Merlin's bed.

Merlin scoffed, rolling his eyes a little, "I'm your only nephew." He pointed out dryly. Unless his mom had another sibling running around that he didn't know about that had kids as well.

Gaius looked affronted, "Well I can still have a favorite, can't I? Now, let's see you all dressed up." His uncle looked him over, making his self-consciousness come back full force. He was already an awkward person, he felt even worst dressed as he was now. "Well, don't you look nice."

And Merlin really did. It was clear from how he was standing how awkward he felt. But with the way the clothes were tailored to fit his exact measurements, he did look nice. He just needed a little more confidence in his new appearance.

Merlin's shoulders just seemed to slump down, a scowl on his face as his eyes flicked down to his feet. "I look awful," he grumbled just loud enough for the older man to hear. "Like some rich prat." Like Arthur, he thought to himself. As if he wanted to be anything similar to what Arthur was.

Even Gaius had to admit to himself that Merlin didn't look the least bit comfortable. In the short time he'd known him, Gaius hadn't seen him look so uncertain, so small. It was an unsettling sight for a boy like Merlin. A boy that never seemed to stop talking or getting himself into more trouble than he needed. Gaius almost wished the boy had done something to get himself in trouble again. At least he wouldn't be just standing there with that desolated look on his face.

Gaius sighed, feeling weary in a way that he hadn't since the Great Purge had started. The older man took a seat next to his bag on the edge of the bed. He patted the bed beside him, gesturing for Merlin to come sit beside him.

Merlin gave a heavy sigh before making his way over. But every step he took felt as if he had a weight attached to his foot. His steps were heavy and he practically drug his feet until he reached his uncle. He practically flopped down onto the bed beside him, making it bounce for a second.

"I hate this bed." Merlin grumbled under his breath, picking at the blanket under him with his nail.

"Merlin, you're going to have bigger problems than just a bed." Gaius said quietly. He wished that all his nephew had to worry about was an oversized bed. But that wasn't how life worked, especially not Merlin's life. Not with everything that was happening to the boy in just this week along.

"I know," Merlin said. He lifted his eyes away from where he was staring at his knees. "Like Arthur, he's going to be a thorn in my side for the rest of our lives, isn't he?" It was one thing if Merlin could avoid him. With such a huge city, there was so many more places he could go where Arthur most definitely wasn't.

But Gaius had other things on his mind. "It's a lot more than just being with Arthur."

Merlin's brows furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean?" What else could be worst than being bound in 'holy matrimony' to Arthur Pendragon?

"Well," Gaius started, turning sideways on the bed as to face him better. "First off, it's going to be a rough transition. Especially these next few weeks where you're getting used to how things are."

Merlin scoffed, "Tell me something I don't know. But I've been here for almost a week. Surely it can't get any worst than what's already happened." He couldn't think of anything worst that could happen. He'd done been in the stocks, had two encounters with Arthur that had ended terribly, and had the most humiliating moments in these last few days than he'd ever had in Ealdor in his life. And that was saying something since he could think of several embarrassing things that had happened back home off the top of his head.

But Gaius was completely serious when he caught Merlin's eye, a concerned frown to his lips. "But Merlin, it will be serious. Really serious."

Merlin frowned, feeling the gravity of their conversation weighing on him. Especially when his uncle reached out and clamped a firm hand onto his shoulder. "What do you mean?" He asked, finally looking solemn.

"It means-" Gaius started, his eyes never leaving Merlin's, "Is that you're going to have a tough road ahead of you. The people, they aren't going to respect you. They aren't going to treat you like royalty just because of your marriage to Arthur."

"But I don't want them to treat me like royalty!" Merlin exclaimed, throwing out his hands. "I mean, I'm one of them!" He gestured towards his windows to indicate the city below. "I'm a commoner! I belong in the city finding work or something. Not here in a castle."

"But they aren't going to see just a peasant." Gaius explained urgently. "The people will see a peasant who was married into the royal family. They don't know about the contract that brought you here. They will expect something from you, they will expect you to be something that was special enough to catch the prince's eye."

Merlin shivered in disgust at catching Arthur's eye. The only thing that he'd caught of Arthur's was a fight. "But I'm not special." He admitted. "I mean, other than my magic. But they can't know about that, can they?"

"No." Gaius agreed sadly. "Merlin, when the people see you marry Arthur, all they will see is a peasant boy. They need to see that you're more than that and not just because of your magic. The peasants aren't going to respect you if they think you can't lead this kingdom beside Arthur when he is king. The knights aren't going to stand behind you if they think you're incapable of standing beside Arthur. If you can't earn the respect of the people, then things will be all that much harder for you then it should be."

Merlin felt the lump growing in his throat and he jolted to his feet, jerking away from his uncle. He started to pace the room in wide and frantic steps, "But Uncle Gaius, I am not going to rule with Arthur when he is king." He said panicked. "I mean, they can't seriously be expecting that, can they? Because they are just going to be disappointed. I know absolutely nothing about Camelot. I know even less about how to run a kingdom!" He started throwing his hands out with every word he spoke, twisting his hands together. Pretty much anything he could to get his anxiousness out. "All I know anything about is-is..." his mind went blank for a minute before he spit out the first word he thought of. "Farming!" It's the one thing he'd done most of his life. The one thing he knew how to do was to make something grow. He had learned pretty much all the tricks of the trade from an early age. What did he know about politics or fancy parties or...what else was there that royalty did?

See, he didn't even know that! The people of Camelot couldn't really be dumb enough to think that he could help Arthur rule a kingdom.

"Then start there." Gaius said, standing up to comfort his nephew. "Who knows, maybe if a report comes in about there being something wrong with the fields, you could offer some insight."

Merlin scoffed, letting himself drop back down to sit on the edge of his bed. "But Camelot is a prosperous kingdom. How often do reports like that come in?" He hung his head, feeling the misery around him like a shroud.

"It does happen." Gaius said, standing at the foot of the bed. "Even a kingdom like Camelot has its problems."

Merlin sighed, waving a dismissive hand, "Well hopefully not for a while. The people shouldn't suffer just because farming is all I really know how to do."

Gaius grinned pleased, "Now see, that is exactly the kind of person that Camelot needs in power!"

Merlin jolted his head up, startled by Gaius' sudden exclamation. "What are you talking about?" He asked baffled.

"You." Gaius said like it was obvious, taking a seat beside his nephew. "You are already caring for the people instead of wishing ill-intent so that you can show off some."

Merlin snorted, "Seriously? Who would wish something so horrible on people." Who would be cruel enough that they would want people starving just so they could, what? Show off? Seriously, who does that?

But Gaius seemed pretty serious when he said, "You'd be surprised." His nephew absolutely confounded him. Gaius could think of at least a dozen people off the top of his head that wouldn't mind something horrible happening to someone else so that they could get the attention or play the hero.

Merlin took a heavy breath, eyes focused on staring at the wall in front of him solemnly. "How am I going to do this?" He asked quietly. Almost so quietly that Gaius had to strain to hear him for a minute there.

Gaius reached out and put a hand on his shoulder again, "We'll figure this out, together." He said firmly. He definitely wasn't going to be leaving his nephew alone for the foreseeable future, not with all of these changes going on in his life.

Merlin still didn't look entirely convinced, "But Uncle Gaius," he started, looking nervous again. "The people, they can't really be expecting something from me, right?" If they only knew who he was, he doubted they would have any confidence in him. How could they? This last week, he'd barely had any confidence in himself.

If only Will could see him now. His friend would probably kick his arse into shape if he saw him hiding out in his room. He definitely felt as if he was hiding out in his room right now even though this was exactly where he was supposed to be. He was dreading the minute that someone would arrive and tell him to come downstairs and get married.

Seriously, how did people do this? He knew arranged marriages were a thing but he'd never thought of them when it came pertaining to his own life. But this was his own life now. It definitely wasn't going the way he'd thought it would. If his magic could somehow send him back in time, he would probably go back just to tell his mom that she would probably need to run further than Cenred's kingdom to escape Camelot.

If Merlin had any sort of power after this wedding, arranged marriages would be the first thing to go.

Gaius gave his nephew a sad expression, "Merlin, I know things will be different. The people will expect more than you can actually give." As much as he hated to think it, Merlin's humble upbringing wouldn't be doing him any favors. Not in the world in which the Pendragon's belonged to. "You are a peasant among the royals of Camelot. You are a sorcerer in a family that oppresses them." His voice was hushed, as if to keep anyone else from listening even if they were the only ones in the room. "To keep your secret, to earn the people's respect, I'm afraid it will probably be harder than any of us realizes yet."

Merlin finally looked away from his uncle, "Uncle Gaius, I have no idea what I'm doing." He admitted out loud.

"I know." Gaius said simply. He doubted that anybody knew what they were doing. Hell, maybe even Uther was fumbling through this. It wasn't everyday that a peasant married a royal. It wasn't everyday, unknown to the Pendragon's, that a sorcerer married into a family of magic haters. "But we will figure this out together."

Merlin doubted it. He was full of doubts lately. He doubted there would come a day where he knew exactly what he was doing in this kingdom. Not when it came to the day to day things in the castle that a member of the royal family had to see to personally.

"Merlin." Gaius suddenly said, bringing the sorcerer out of his musings. "I think I have something that might perk you up some."

Merlin raised his eyebrow at his uncle, "Like what?" He asked bluntly. He was getting married in like an hour. He doubted that there was anything that his uncle could give him that would make him feel any better.

"It's my wedding gift to you." Gaius said, picking up his bag that was sitting on the bed behind them and handed it over.

Merlin took the bag, feelings his eyebrows furrow together. He hadn't been expecting to get anything more than a husband. He's barely wrapped his head around the fact that his marriage also meant he was gaining a kingdom.

After a minute of Merlin staring down at the bag in his hand, he hurried to undo the latch, feeling his excitement building. He rarely got presents. Even on his birthday, all his mother had been able to do for him growing up was cook his favorite dinner. And even she hadn't always been able to do that some years. Some times, you just had to make due with what you had.

Merlin flipped the opening up and reached inside, pulling something out. In his hands was a thick book, thicker than any he'd ever had before. Some of the pages were sticking out and it looked old, ancient. The pages were held together by a thick leather bound cover. There was a strange writing on the front that he'd never seen before in a shade of faded gold. His eyes brightened up upon seeing the book in his grasp. It was something he'd never thought that he would see before in his lifetime. Something he'd thought was all but extinct.

"This...this can't be what I think it is." Merlin choked out, staring at the hard leather bound book in his lap. "But how? I thought..." he thought that Uther had all of the books in the kingdom on magic burned over a decade ago.

"He did," Gaius agreed. "This was one of the few things I managed to hide away during the beginnings of the Great Purge." He cast an almost fond look towards the book. He had many memories of using it himself as a young lad. He had been no older than Merlin when he'd received it from his own mentor.

"But I can't, Uncle Gaius." Merlin protested, looking like it pained him to say this. "Knowing my luck, somebody will find it or I'll ruin it or...I really shouldn't have this." But still, he couldn't stop his fingers from trailing over the cover, tracing the gold lettering. It was taking everything he had not to pry open the cover and start reading his new book.

Gaius scoffed. He'd had this book carefully hidden away for almost twenty years. Merlin was the first person that he'd even considered passing it on to. He was getting up there in age. It was only right for a new generation to learn the art that was dying out, if Uther had his way.

"You will have much more of a use for this book then I will hiding it away." Gaius said firmly, refusing to take it back. Gaius had long since stopped practicing magic. It had been a difficult road, like trying to stop an addiction. Magic was power and power in the hands of the wrong people could be a dangerous thing.

Gaius doubted that Merlin would be one of these 'wrong hands'.

"But this is magic!" Merlin exclaimed, as if Gaius didn't already know that. "What could I even use these spells for while I'm in Camelot? Wouldn't I be caught eventually?" He still didn't allow his hands to leave the book. Even with the possibility of being caught, he was refusing to let the book go. He had an almost desperate urge to start going through it right now. To barricade himself in his room where he couldn't be dragged off to his wedding and just study all of the incantations that he could before they busted down his door.

"Which is why it must be kept hidden." Gaius said firmly, enunciating each word carefully so that Merlin realized just how serious it would be if he got caught with this book. Gaius couldn't even begin to imagine the guilt he would feel if the boy got caught because of something he'd given him.

Merlin nodded, a strangely serious look on his face as he rose his gaze from the book to lock eyes with his uncle. "I will keep it hidden, I promise." Then he brought his eyes back down to the book in his hands. To his very own magic book. It felt almost to good to say that. Maybe he could finally learn something about his magic. Maybe he could learn to get a better handle on his abilities. Maybe he could actually find out a way to use his gifts.

It was a lot of hope to put on one book but that still didn't stop Merlin from hoping that this book could actually help him somehow.

At that moment, there was a firm knock on the door. Both Merlin and Gaius froze, casting startled looks towards his door. His unlocked door that could swing open at any minute. They both looked down at the book in Merlin's hands. The book that was out and in full view of the door. And obviously not an ordinary book.

"Merlin?" the voice of Leon called from the other side of the door. "Are you ready? The ceremony is about to take place." He sounded strangely serious.

Merlin and Gaius shared a panicked look. "Hide it." Gaius hissed under his breath, hurrying to his feet. Merlin did the same, grasping the book so tight that you would have thought somebody was trying to pry it out of his hands.

Merlin hurried a few steps across the room only to stop and hurry another few steps in the other direction. He was panicked, unable to think of where a good hiding spot would be.

While he was running around his room trying to find somewhere to put the book, Gaius hurried across the room to the door. He pulled it open just far enough for him to stick his head out. "Sir Leon." He said conversationally, keeping the door closed as much as he could to hide Merlin from view.

"Gaius." Leon said, surprised to see the physician. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, I just thought I would check on Merlin before tonight's events." He said dismissively. "You know, giving him something to help him relax for tonight. Calm his nerves." He lied easily.

"Oh," Leon said but then dismissed it. This was Gaius after all. He doubted the man had any dark purposes for being in the room of the prince's intended. "Is Merlin ready? The guests are here and everybody is waiting for him to arrive."

Gaius glanced over his shoulder to see Merlin hovering around the headboard of his bed. There was no book in his hand. Gaius still turned back to Leon with a smile, unsure if he should allow the knight to enter yet. What, with Merlin still kneeling at the head of the bed playing with the headboard.

"He will be just another few moments." Gaius answered the knight. "You know, pre-wedding jitters. He just needs a minute. You know how it is, getting married."

"Right." Leon said but it was clear that he was uncertain. Because no, he didn't know how it felt to marry. He rarely dated, yet along actually marry somebody. "Well," Leon gestured towards the stairs. "I just passed a handful of serving girls at the bottom of the stairs. They seemed a little...disgruntled. Said they were waiting for Madame Teresa to call them up so that they could prepare Merlin but she never did."

"Because I told her not to." Merlin said, popping up over Gaius' shoulder, breathing just the slightest bit harder than he should have been from his quick dash around the room. He made the other two men jump violently, startled by his sudden appearance.

"You didn't want them to?" Leon said confused. He would have thought that would have been the best thing about the wedding. Didn't people like being pampered? Wouldn't a peasant like being pampered, having surely never experienced it before.

But Merlin just wrinkled his nose in distaste. "No." He said with a snort, as if that was ridiculous. "I've gotten myself clean all these years. I don't need people coming in and doing it for me!" He really hoped Arthur didn't have baths like this. He already thought the man was a toddler because he apparently needed a manservant to help dress himself.

"Alright then." Leon said, still baffled by it. But he brushed it off as a Merlin quirk, the boy seemed to have a lot of those. "So, are you ready?" He gave the boy a once over. He didn't look half bad in clothes that actually fit although Leon had to admit that he did look odd in them. Uncomfortable might be the better word to use.

Leon's question brought Merlin up short as all the thoughts of hiding his book fled his mind at his sudden realization. He was getting married. Fuck, he was getting married right now. There was no more time, no just one more day before it happened. It was happening here and now.

Merlin forced himself to swallow hard, feeling a cold sweat break out over his skin. "Just one more minute." He croaked out, slamming the door in Leon's face.

Leon opened his mouth to protest but the door was already closed in his face. Leon glanced around the hallway, uncomfortable at the thought of being seen hanging outside the door of Arthur's fiancé. Anybody could come up and think he was doing something uncouth. But then he shook that thought away and stepped back from the door to stand against the wall across from it. He would give the boy an extra minute before knocking again. They really were running out of time, the guests downstairs getting anxious. But with the circumstances, surely they could give the boy a minute to recuperate himself.

Inside the room, Merlin had started pacing from one end of the room to the next. Gaius watched the boy walk, he was muttering under his breath but just loud enough that he could hear. "I can do this. It's not that hard. Just go and say 'I do' then I'm married. It can't be that hard...god, this is going to be a nightmare!" He finally exclaimed loudly, stopping in mid-step in the middle of the room.

"Merlin," Gaius said in a surprisingly calm tone. "You're getting married. It's probably best to not keep all those stuffy noblemen waiting."

"Oh, let them wait." Merlin grumbled, even as he snatched up the red fabric off of the other side of his bed. He scrunched his face up in disgust even as he swung it over his shoulders. He wrapped the collar around his neck, fingers fumbling while he tried to buckle it into place on his collarbone. The long pendragon red cloak trailed down to just above the floor. All it did was irritate him.

"Here, let me get that for you." Gaius said. Merlin scowled, annoyed mainly with himself because he wasn't able to get it. It's not his fault he never wore a cloak before.

Gaius took the edges of the cloak in his hands and easily clasp it together into place. The buckle looked like a broach, resting on his collarbone. It was red just like the cloak, the pendragon crest embedded on it.

Merlin looked down at it in disgust, pulling the cloth away so he could get a better look at it. "I really do look like a prat." He said disgruntled, dropping the cloth back into place on his body.

"You'll be fine." Gaius said calmly, fidgeting with Merlin's clothes, brushing invisible dirt off his shoulders just to have something to do with his hands. "Now, did you hide the book?" He asked, not looking up from where he was straightening out the wrinkles Merlin had made in his shirt from climbing over the bed.

"Yeah." Merlin said, still looking annoyed. "Nobody should find it till I can find a better spot for it." He said, casting a look towards the headboard where the book was tucked behind it. Nobody should be able to reach back there and pull it out. It was to far down. He'd have to use his magic to lift it out.

"Now," Gaius said, finally stepping back. "Leon is wai-"

"I'm not ready!" Merlin blurted out, cutting him off. He thought that maybe he could be ready. Maybe by the time the wedding was ready, he'd be able to go through with it. Maybe he'd be used to the idea. But now that it was here, now that he'd met Arthur, well it turned out that his initial response was the right one.

There was no way he was going to be ready for this. Not if he'd had a million years to prepare. What did he know about being a husband? What did he know about this kingdom? Hell, he'd grown up in Cenred's kingdom and wouldn't be able to tell you the first thing about actually running it. What did he know about the foreign kingdom of Camelot? What if he screwed it all up? What if he'd said something to someone important and it was looked at like an insult? What if he did something wrong and Camelot as a whole paid the price. What if...

He was cut out of his increasingly anxious thoughts when Gaius spoke, calm and firm. "You will do fine." He said, planting a hand on Merlin's shoulder, giving himself something to focus on. "If you're anything like you're mother, you'll make it through this."

Merlin met Gaius' eyes before swallowing hard. Then he nodded. Gaius was right, he could do this. He just needed to take it one step at a time, he just needed to figure things out as they came. He could do this. He had no doubt that his mother would have done just fine if it was her in this position. She was a stronger woman than he'd ever thought.

He only hoped that he inherited even a fraction of her strength.

Gaius gave his nephew an almost sad look before heading towards the door. He knew that this wouldn't be easy. And things were only going to get rougher from this point on.

Merlin made to follow but he stopped when his eye caught something. His wardrobe door was still wide open, his mirror reflecting his image in the glass. He...didn't look like himself. It was still obviously him but these clothes, this dumb cloak...it wasn't him at all. And it wasn't just because he was a peasant and wasn't used to this kind of treatment. He had a feeling that if things had been different and he'd been born the prince and Arthur the peasant, he still would have preferred his simple clothes compared to this rich fabric.

He really did look like a rich prat. He hated it, wanted to burn these clothes so bad in that moment that it hurt. And he couldn't wait to return to his rooms after every thing just so he could tear this crap off and put on his ordinary clothes.

He was done being sad, done feeling sorry for himself. What he wanted to feel was mad, to feel pissed. To just let his anger out instead of pretending that everything was fine, that this wasn't really happening. It was happening and for the first time since he'd heard the news, he felt as if he deserved to feel angry. This was his life that they were talking about. He had every right to be angry with what was happening.

He felt the rush of anger course through his veins for a moment. It felt hot and something he'd never felt before...rage.

"Are you coming?" Gaius asked from the doorway.

Merlin dragged his eyes away from the mirror. He felt his anger wash out of him at the inevitable of what was about to happen. He could still feel the anger in his bones but now it was like a deep shimmer brimming just under the surface. Like there was a lid put over it to stop it from boiling over.

Merlin walked away from his reflection and followed Gaius out of his room, softly closing the door behind him.

Leon straightened up when he saw the two men exiting. "Are you ready?" He asked. Leon had been the knight that was assigned to make sure that Merlin made it to his wedding without delay. And they were already wasting more time than Leon wanted.

Merlin met his eyes to Leon's before dragging his eyes away, looking off in the direction of the stairs. "Not even close." He said simply, straightening his back. He wasn't going to duck his head and watch his feet as he was forced into this. If he was going to do this, then he wasn't going to cower. Not before Arthur, Uther, or anybody else that had shown up because they had nothing better to do then to watch this farce of a marriage happen.

"Let's do this." And then Merlin was off, walking down the hall to head downstairs where his wedding would take place. The red cloak fanned out behind him as he picked up the slightest bit of speed.

Gaius and Leon standing behind him exchanged worried looks before following the boy down the stairs.

It was only far to soon that Merlin found himself in front of the grand doors that led into the throne room. It was being guarded by two knights who stepped aside as he walked up to it. Gaius bid him farewell before sneaking through the door to take a seat in the back. Leon stood behind Merlin, prepared to walk him inside.

Inside the throne room, the people were whispering among themselves. Every seat they had was crammed full of any noble that didn't dare miss such an event. They were all dressed in their greatest finery, refusing to show up to the prince's party without being in the best clothes they owned.

All of the men were in cloaks and cufflinks. Many were decked out in the finest jewels they owned, trying to one up the other men. They were mainly there with the hopes of gaining the king's favor or to make acquaintances with the prince in hopes that he may remember them fondly when he became king.

The women were wearing their finest dresses in a variety of color, most of them being made with pure silk. Most had their hair pulled up in updo's, a few had their hair down but no less styled to perfection. Not a single neck didn't have a stone the size of a small fist and not one hand didn't have at least one dainty looking ring on it.

Everybody was gossiping, whispering to each other as they waited for the 'bride' to arrive. There was an air in the room that was filled with nothing but anticipation. Not one person wasn't eager to find out just who it was that would become their 'queen.'

Geoffrey was standing in the front of the room, watching the crowd as they mingled among themselves. The wedding was preparing to begin. All they were really waiting for was the arrival of the prince's fiancé.

Just to the side where the king's throne sat, half hidden behind the dark black alter set up beside Geoffrey was a door. It led to a side room where the servants usually waited out of sight until the king had need for them. Only it wasn't made up for the servants today. The maids had brought in a round table with a white tablecloth with a good variety of bowls of fruit set out on it.

Morgana was the only one sitting at the table, casually pushing a grape into her mouth with a dainty finger. She had her dark and thick hair pulled up, strands of hair falling out to frame around her face. Her red glittered eye makeup contrasted nicely with her light skin. The red jeweled piece just above her brow that Merlin had picked out contrasted nicely with her dark hair. She wore her slinky red dress but the top half was covered up with a sheer wine colored wrap. She supposed she should keep up some modesty during the wedding. She'd be ditching it afterwards. She only wore the wrap now as to not upstage Arthur or Merlin during their wedding. Not that she cared about upstaging Arthur but she could hold back for an hour since Merlin had been so nice.

Morgana picked up another grape and slid it into her mouth, carefully chewing the round fruit.

"Can you not eat?" Arthur hissed over his shoulder. Arthur was standing by the door, he'd pushed it open just a crack for him to see out. He was used to crowds, to all of the attention being on him. But this was to much even for him. He could literally feel a cold sweat on his skin and his hands felt clammy to the touch. He'd never been nervous before, not like this at least. Nervousness for him was a rare feeling and something he could usually push aside. But not this time, it felt as if it was here to stay.

"I don't know why you're so nervous." Morgana said dismissively. "You're fiancé is quite a nice boy. Kinda funny to."

That comment made Arthur stiffen. It took a moment for him to get a hold of himself and when he did, his head whipped around to glare at her. "What do you mean he's 'nice?'" Arthur sneered the last word. "You talk as if you've met him."

Morgana took her time answering, sliding another grape into her mouth. Arthur narrowed his eyes on her, watching with growing impatience. She took much longer than she needed to, enjoying the idea that she was riling him up. Finally, she swallowed and delicately dabbed at her lips with a folded cloth napkin as to not mess up her lipstick even though she had nothing she needed to wipe clean. Arthur could feel his irritation rising up inside of him, wishing in this moment that he could just throttle her.

His father would probably disapprove of him doing that though.

Finally, Morgana opened her painted lips and spoke, "Oh, it's because I have, Arthur dear." She drawled out, smiling as if she knew something that he didn't.

Arthur crossed the room and planted his hands firmly on the table across from where she was sitting. "So pray tell me, Morgana dear," he said in the same tone that she had used with him. "How is it that you met my fiancé before I did?"

Morgana took her time with answering, picking up another grape to eat. Arthur almost wanted to take that stupid bowl of grapes and smash it on to the ground. He watched in disgust as Morgana took her time chewing and swallowing before she finally answered him. "I actually met him just an hour or two ago. Before I came down here." She explained calmly.

Fuck, Arthur thought, it was like pulling teeth with her.

"...Well?" Arthur said forcefully.

Morgana gave him an innocent look, as if she didn't know exactly what he was getting at. "Well, what?" She asked, lips barely turned up into the barest hint of a grin.

"You know what." Arthur hissed, wanting to wipe that grin off her face. It was looking way to smug for his taste. "Aren't you going to tell me what I'm walking in to before I have to go out there. Who. Is. He?" He said each word with growing force.

"Well he'll definitely be entertaining, that's for sure." She said bluntly, remembering her interaction with him in her room. It was almost amusing how Arthur's face was when she didn't give him anymore than that.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Arthur demanded, almost to afraid to find out. He was entertaining? So what, did that mean he acted like a fool would? Things just seemed to get worse and worse with every little tibet he managed to find out from other people. He was tired of getting second hand information that made no sense. He wanted to see his fiancé for himself. Look into the face of the man he blamed for this happening. That way he'd at least know the face of the man he'd come to hate within days without actually meeting him.

"It means," Morgana drawled out. She rose delicately to her feet, putting her hands firmly on the table herself so that she matched Arthur eye to eye. "That you are going to have your hands full, I could see that much from the brief and short meeting I had with him."

"Morgana! Start making sense and actually tell me something substantial!" Arthur hissed, his frustration and irritation starting to hit an almost high record for him.

But Morgana just gave him a very familiar and smug smile. She loved to rile him up more than anything. So Morgana casually sat back in her seat as if she had nothing better to do and leaned back, looking as relaxed as possible. As if this wasn't the worst day of Arthur's life. "It means," Morgana finally spoke. "That I almost called the guards on him. Lucky for him, they were all down here when he startled me."

Arthur felt himself stiffen, eyes flashing. "Scared you?" He demanded. "What do you mean, scared you?" He didn't care what kind of contract they had with this boy's family. He'd have the boy rot in the dungeons if he'd done something uncouth to a Lady of Morgana's statue. Especially a Lady who was under the known protection of the Pendragon family.

"I said startled, not scared!" Morgana snapped. As if she would ever admit to Arthur when she was scared of something. She hadn't even admitted it when she was twelve and found a spider in her room and forced ten year old Arthur to get rid of it without killing it. Scared as she was, she didn't want the creature hurt. He'd managed to trap it under a cup and carried it outside to release it among the grass of the training grounds.

She has long since outgrown her fear of spiders but she still refused to admit that she had been scared in that moment.

Morgana casually picked up her red fan sitting on the edge of the table, flipping it open with the practice ease that only a woman could do. She waved it in front of her face, trying to get a small breeze going, the position of the fan left only her eyes to be seen.

"And," Morgana continued. "I was only startled by the fact that a boy was roaming the halls of our wing. He definitely wasn't one of the servants allowed on that floor but he was also most definitely a peasant."

Arthur felt his irritation spike for the umpteenth time since he'd hidden away in this back room when he'd arrived. Not that he would call it hiding but he would still have anyone who suggested he was hiding put in the stocks for slander.

What he was irritated about was this boy wondering the castle, their quarters, like it was his. Arthur pushed away the painful reminder that after tonight, it would be his just as it was Arthur's. What he was pissed about was the boy making himself comfortable. Arthur guessed he was getting ready for a life of comfort and ease, the life that the one married to a prince could easily afford to have.

Arthur felt the bitterness and disgust, he could practically taste it on his tongue. What he would love to do was show the boy that just because he was married to Arthur, it made no difference. He was still just a peasant, still below Arthur. Just because he now had access to the comforts of Arthur's life didn't mean a damn thing. He was no different than the millions of peasants that ran amok the kingdom.

Morgana saw the disgust on Arthur's face and rolled her eyes. She had always thought the boy was a little more on the dramatic side, a little more on the side of letting his emotions dictate his actions. He'd gotten better in the last year or two as he matured a bit but still, It wasn't a good look for a prince to have.

Morgana started picking at her finely shaped fingernails, putting on a good show of looking disinterested. "You know, you shouldn't be so angry. He seems like a funny fella, you two might have something in common." She doubted it. The two boys were as different as the sun and the moon, like water and fire, maybe even like, her gaze drifted to the nearby bowl of fruit and finished her thought with amusement to herself, like a banana and an apple.

Arthur didn't notice her wondering thoughts. Instead, he snorted, almost amused by the idea that he could have anything in common with some common peasant. The boy could have literally been anybody on the street, it made no difference to him to which unfortunate peasant he was being forced to wed. A peasant was a peasant after all. He'd found that peasants weren't that interesting. Other than some mild amusement, they'd never really held his attention for long.

Morgana rolled her eyes at his dismissive snort. She should have known that Arthur would blow her off. He never did have a high opinion for the poorer people of their fair country. "You know," she started. "You really shouldn't think so poorly of them. The peasants are your people just as the nobles are."

"Of course they are." Arthur brushed her off. "And they will remain safe in my kingdom when I am king."

But not safe from you, Morgana thought, remembering the few times that Arthur had gotten carried away in his 'teasing'. Although she had to admit, Merlin's incident with Arthur was the first time she'd ever heard of the prince attacking an unarmed and untrained peasant.

It had worried her when she'd first heard of it, wanting to know what the hell Arthur had been thinking. As if he needed another reason for the people to be questioning if he was capable of ruling them someday. Not that Arthur knew of the people's doubts. He was to busy living in his glided castle to hear about the people's opinion.

Arthur was wholly out of touch with his people. It was almost embarrassing to have a prince whose head was so up his own arse that he didn't even notice his own people's doubts.

Morgana took a heavy breath, leaning back in her seat as she folded up her fan and set it on her lap. "You know, you really should give your people more credit than you do. You shouldn't be so rude to them, especially considering your fiancé is one of them." She went back to looking at her nails. "And after tonight, he'll be one of us as well."

Arthur felt the flush of anger go through his veins, "He is not one of us." He hissed, eyes flashing dangerously as he glared down at the girl. Even though it would have made a lesser woman nervous, Morgana wasn't the least bit affected by it. She was far to used to the boy's 'mood swings' as she called them. Especially in the last few days.

"As much as you hate to admit it," Morgana drawled out. "In less then an hour, he will be one of us."

Arthur felt his heart skip a beat and a cold sweat break about his hairline. He usually carried himself with pride but at this moment, he felt anything but proud.

"Morgana." A stern voice suddenly said from the door. Both Morgana and Arthur looked towards the doorway to see that Uther was closing the door behind him. He had been outside, conversing with Geoffrey and the Steward to make sure that any last minute details were taken care of and everything would go as smooth, fast, and painless, as possible.

Arthur straightened up from where he was leaning over the table, talking to Morgana. Uther watched them both as Morgana rose from the table, looking every bit like the lady she was.

"Morgana," Uther said, opening the door again. "If you don't mind, I would like a moment alone with my son."

Morgana glanced towards Arthur, the prince wasn't looking so hot right now, before looking back to her king. "Of course, sire." She finally said. Morgana quietly left the room and took her place standing just to the side of the platform set up for the 'lucky' couple. It was where she and Uther would stand as Arthur's family. She couldn't help but think about the other side of the platform where Merlin's family normally would have gone.

It would be empty and bare. Morgana for the first time wondered how lonely Merlin must be, being here without anyone he really knew. She remembered when she'd first arrived in Camelot. She'd met Uther once or twice by that point when her father had dragged her along to visit the castle but she still hadn't known anybody when she'd moved in permanently after her parent's tragic deaths. She'd only been a little girl then and it had been a very traumatic experience for her.

Despite the difference in their circumstances that brought them there, Morgana wondered if Merlin was feeling a similar loneliness that she had once experienced before she started looking at this castle as her home.

He probably was.

At the back of the room, Gaius had taken a seat on an empty spot in the back. He sat right next to the door where Merlin would enter. He'd probably be the first person that Merlin saw when he walked through those doors in just a few minutes.

Good.

Gaius may not be able to stop this wedding but he may be able to offer some comfort as a familiar face. It may not be much but hopefully it could at least be something small to give the boy.

Back inside the small room, Arthur stood stock still as his father approached him. "Arthur." Uther said simply, giving his son a once over. He looked at Arthur's dark pants, brown boots, his white silk top, the red cape with the pendragon crest on it, and the golden crown that rested on his forehead. "You look acceptable."

Arthur bowed his head, "Thank you, father." It was just like Uther to say something like that. It sounded cold and indifferent to anybody else who had a family that wasn't so dysfunctional. But Arthur knew that it was just his father's way of saying he looked nice. Or he'd at least decided that was what it meant many years ago when he was a small child. He'd gotten tired of hearing other families praise their own children and trying to please his own father hadn't always worked out so he'd had to decide his father meant other things then just what he was saying. If only to stop the crushing blow of disappointment when his own father praising him meant saying, 'good, it would be humiliating if you lost in the sword fighting competition to that other child twice your size'."

"So," Uther cleared his throat. "The final preparations are complete. I hear from the guards that your fiancé is prepared to enter the hall." Uther reached out and put his hand on his son's shoulder. "This is it Arthur, are you ready to be a married man?"

Arthur felt his stomach churn uncomfortably, felt a cold sweat breaking out on his skin. He'd never felt like this before. Not this cold case of panic where he just wanted to run. To run and never come back, not if it meant he had to marry.

Uther didn't seem to notice. He had a firm hand on his son's shoulder and started leading him towards the door.

Arthur walked with him, feeling like his head was in a daze. His heart was picking up speed against his rib cage and his fingers clenched and unclenched themselves without his noticing. He had no doubt that if his crown wasn't pushing his bangs off of his forehead, the small bit of sweat accumulating on his brow would have had his blond bangs plastered to his forehead already. And was it him or did this room get really hot all of a sudden? Like an uncomfortable and stuffy hotness even though it had been a comfortable temperature just moments ago.

But moments ago, he still had a few minutes before he was forced out there. Moments ago, he still had a few minutes before he had to stand before his people. A few minutes ago, he still had just that smallest bit of time before he had to face his fiancé.

Before he had to say 'I do' and pledge their marriage before his kingdom.

Before he had to spend an entire lifetime with a stranger.

Before he had to take a man to his bedchambers and hope that he didn't get sick in the process.

He probably would though. Just the thought alone made his stomach roar and bile raise up, burning his throat. He wasn't sure what was worst. Him pledging his so call 'love' in front of the most important people of his kingdom or what would happen afterwards when he was forced to take this boy up to his rooms when the 'celebration' was over.

They were almost to the door when Arthur jolted back, almost wrenching his arm out of his father's grasp. Uther's head shot around to shoot his son a look. "Arthur, what is it?" He demanded in his grumbly voice, as if he didn't know what could possibly be wrong on his son's wedding day.

But right now, Arthur wasn't a prince. Or at least he didn't feel like one. He almost felt like a scared little boy instead. Not one that should mingle with the nobles of the prosperous kingdom that Camelot was. "Father, I don't know if I can do this." He admitted, sounding choked up. If Morgana had been in here and heard him, he would deny it for the rest of his days that he'd ever sounded as scared as he was right now.

Arthur could have sworn he saw his father's eyes soften but it was gone as soon as he thought he had. "Arthur," Uther said, replacing his hand on his son's shoulder so that they could have a man to man talk. Because that was exactly what his son was now. He wasn't a boy, not any longer. How could he be, going through what he had to today. A boy wouldn't have the guts to go up there, not like his son would. He met his son's blue eyes with his own steel grey ones. "I know that this must be scary. Marriage is a scary thing, especially under these circumstances. But you also know that it must be done." They had already had a lengthy discussion when Uther had first told Arthur what was going to happen today. Well Uther call it a discussion but it was mostly Arthur getting more agitated than the king had ever seen him before.

Arthur swallowed passed the heavy lump growing in his throat. "And there's no way to call it off?" He asked again, having already asked this back when he'd first heard the news. The only thing he'd been thinking back then was how to get out of it, how to back out of the contract without repercussions.

Uther shook his head, once again cursing the folly his youth had brought him. "No, son. You know as well as I do that if you do not commit to becoming his husband, that you could lose everything. You may even be forced to forfeit your claim to the kingdom." His only saving grace was that the boy didn't know the contents of what he could gain if Arthur did anything to disgrace their marriage. It was a way for both couples to try and make sure that the boys had a decent marriage, or at least one where they were both treated fairly. Of course, the boy could also be a known disgrace and shunned if he dishonored Arthur, meaning if he cheated. But all of those were put into the contract before everything happened. Before Balinor had disappeared, Hunith had taken her son and prevented Merlin from growing up as a noble like his own son, before Uther had tried to destroy the magic in his kingdom.

They had been friends when the contract was made. None of them had thought that something like this would have happened to their friendship. Now it wasn't just uniting their families. Now, they were playing a very dangerous game if the boy ever found out what he could gain through this union. But then again, he could only take control if he could prove to the council that Arthur had cheated or dishonored him in some other way.

Arthur felt his jaw clenching at the painful reminder. The only reason he was still going through with this instead of just accepting whatever other repercussions there were by not marrying the boy. It would be a cold, cold day in hell before he allowed his kingdom to be taken right out from under him by a peasant boy. The boy would probably run his kingdom straight to the ground within his first week as a ruler. It would probably be nothing but ash, his kingdom going up in flames right before his eyes.

Arthur would probably kill the boy himself if he tried to take any control over the kingdom. Arthur didn't care if the boy had some kind of hand in the kingdom through their marriage, the boy would have something coming to him if he tried to get involved in anything going on with the day to days of the castle.

Jaw still clenched, and his fingers tightening so hard that his knuckles turned white, Arthur forcibly said, "I know, father." He was grinding his teeth as well, so hard he could have sworn they were cracking.

Uther opened his mouth to say something more but never got the chance. At that moment, they could hear music start playing outside of the side room. It was faint, barely heard through the heavy door, but obviously still there. The sound of trumpets, the sound of their wedding starting, the sound of what Arthur felt like was his ending.

"That's our cue, Arthur." Uther said solemnly. Arthur felt a new round of cold sweat break out over his skin and now Arthur wasn't clenching his fists because he was angry. No, now he was doing it to stop them from shaking. It was like the rage washed out of him only to be replaced with a cold fear. As if he'd just left the warmth of his room and stepped outside only to be met with the icy chill of a fresh rain storming down.

Uther actually stopped when he saw the look of pure panic on his son's face. He hadn't seen that look on his face since he was a small child. He'd always gotten that look on his face whenever there was a particularly bad thunder storm. He'd long since grown out of that but still, this look of pure panic was a sudden reminded of those more innocent times. Only now, it was so much worst. Because now his son wasn't a scared little boy who just needed to be told everything would be okay. His son was a grown man and neither Arthur nor Uther knew if everything would be okay.

Uther sighed, "You can have one minute Arthur. And then you need to come outside and start the ceremony." Arthur nodded, feeling weak as his father stepped outside to take his place beside Morgana.

As soon as he was gone, Arthur reached into the inner pocket of his cloak and drew something out. He refused to get married without bringing this with him, if only for it to offer the smallest bit of comfort. It was a metal piece about the size of his palm, shaped like a circle. In the middle was the engraved figure of what looked like a swan. Staring down at the piece in his hand, Arthur carefully ran his thumb over the swan.

This piece was his mother's sigil. It was the crest of her family, something she'd brought with her as a token and reminder of where she came from when she'd married his father and left her home behind. Now, twenty years after her death, it was the only thing that Arthur had that had once belonged to her. He used to sleep with it tucked under his pillow as a bit of comfort when he was a small child but he didn't do that any longer. Now it usually stayed in his bedside table. Close enough for him to pull it out if he needed to but not somewhere that he'd probably be constantly bumping into.

He hadn't needed to use it as a bit of comfort in many years. Now it was just a good reminder of his mother, of the parent he never knew, a way for him to feel as if she was with him even when he'd never met her. And today of all days, he needed what little comfort the piece could give him. He didn't think he could get through this without feeling the metal piece resting against his leg throughout the ceremony.

When Arthur was eighteen, he'd been given his own signet ring. It was similar to his father's but with enough differences to make it his own. People would know it was by his orders if he used that ring on a document he was sending off somewhere although he rarely had to do that as prince and his father as king took care of most things like that. This metal piece pretty much meant more to him than that ring did even though this piece was nothing more than a decorative jewelry with his mother's family crest embedded on it. He never let anyone touch it. Even Morris knew not to clean in the specific drawer he kept it in because of it. He'd have the head of anybody if they tried to touch something that was so important to him.

Arthur heard the trumpets raise up in pitch, starting a new tempo. He realized that he couldn't stall anything. This was it, it was time for him to marry a complete stranger in front of his people. Swallowing hard, Arthur brought his mother's sigil to his mouth and brushed his lips against the tip of it. "Be with me, mother." He whispered against the metal. Then he put his hand down and let the metal piece drop back inside the inner pocket of his cloak where it would remain until he put it back in the drawer of his bedside table later.

When Arthur raised his head again, his face was as hard as stone. His eyes were strangely blank, showing not a hint of the anguish that he was feeling. His back was so straight that even his etiquette teacher as a child would have been impressed. Arthur walked over to the door and brought his hand up to the handle, not in the least ready to go out and meet his future.

On the other side of the hall, Merlin was still standing just outside the closed doors. He was staring at the mahogany wood with a scowl firmly in place. The two knights that guarded the doors stood on either side of it. They were allowing him to enter but Merlin didn't make a single move to do so. Not yet at least.

Leon was standing right behind him, probably to prevent him from running if he tried. But no, Merlin wasn't going to run. He had a marriage to see through rather he liked it or not. Besides, where would running get him? The three knights surrounding him would have caught him before he even made it to the main doors of the castle. And while he could have used his magic to help him escape, he wouldn't have to worry about getting married. He'll be to busy being dragged onto the executioner's platform.

So clearly running wasn't a choice. But then again, was running ever actually an option. If he was going to run, he should have done it in the woods on his way to Camelot, before they'd made it to Camelot's boarders. He knew the woods around Ealdor like the back of his hand, he probably could have evaded the knights for some time.

But he hadn't. He had stayed and come to Camelot. There was no point in running now that it was time for him to do exactly what he knew he was coming here to do.

"Well," Leon said quietly from behind him. "This is it." His eyes were soft when they rested on him, they almost looked at him as if he were pitiful. Merlin hated that, he didn't want to be pitied. He didn't want to be looked at as if he was something to feel sorry for.

But still, Merlin's skin felt chilled, the slight breeze in the air irritating his skin. He could hear the slightest bit of conversation from inside through the thick doors. He could hear that conversation dying out as the trumpets started to play louder. Did they really have to announce his presence like that? He would have been more happy just sneaking in through a side door and by the time anybody realized who he was, he was already standing where he was supposed to be.

With Arthur.

Arthur who didn't know who he was but was about to be in for a rude awakening if he was expecting anything more than what Merlin actually was.

Merlin let his eyes fall down to the floor in front of him before swallowing hard. Well, the moment had finally arrived. These few days in Camelot had been a whirlwind, filled with emotions and sights that he'd never felt or saw before. But now it all seemed as if it was coming to an end, as if he was walking towards his own funeral instead of towards what should have been the happiest day of his life.

But how could it be when Arthur was the guy waiting for him. How could it be the happiest day of his life when he was marrying a man he didn't really know? A man who his meetings with hadn't exactly ended on a good note.

But Merlin pushed those thoughts vehemently to the side. In the last few days, he'd done enough thinking to last a lifetime. What else was there to think about? All there really was left was to get up there and just...do it.

Merlin felt Leon nudge him on the small of his back, giving him a small push towards the doors. Merlin went to reach for one of the handles but before he could, the two guards on either side of the door reached out to grasp the handles for him.

Merlin swallowed hard one more time, forcing passed the lump in his throat. His eyes were trained on the mahogany wood of the doors in front of him, having to force his magic back so that he wouldn't throw the doors open himself in his anxiousness to get this over and done with.

"This is it." Merlin whispered to himself, so softly that not one of the knights heard him. Then he raised his head, his chin tilted just the slightest bit up. He didn't care who these people thought they were, Merlin wasn't going to act as if he was someone to cower beneath them. He'd felt sorry for himself for far to long and enough was enough. He may have to do this but he was damned if he was going to show any weakness or such in front of Arthur bloody Pendragon.

Merlin watched the two knights pulling the doors open. A bright white light erupting from inside the room, casting away the shadows of the hallway he stood in and nearly burning his eyes in the process.