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!

27. Chapter 27

Arthur was glaring daggers at Merlin, resisting the urge to drag his consort back up to the castle, preferably by his stupidly large ears. From there, he would leave Merlin guarded by armed knights, locked away in his room until the tournament was over. After Merlin took his armor out for a joyride, why should he get to enjoy the tournament?

He watched the flush creeping up Merlin's face, but he didn't jerk away when faced with his consort's clear attraction to him. Instead, probably for the first and only time, he pushed closer. He practically had the other boy laid out on the table, with how far his consort was trying to lean away from him.

Watching the redness darkening across Merlin's face, Arthur gave a dark looking smirk. Good, let the boy get flustered, he thought viciously. His consort would know full well, after all was said and down, that playing with Arthur's armor was unacceptable behavior.

Merlin tried to protest, saying, "I wasn't using it as a plaything!" And he tried to sit back up. But Arthur's body was like a steel cage around him, not allowing him to move an inch. In fact, when he tried to sit up, Arthur placed a steely hand around his thin hip and jerked him back down into his half-laying position.

Merlin let out an undignified squeak when Arthur did it. But just as fast as it had happened, Arthur's hand was gone, moving away from his hip and back onto the table beside it. The blonde was making sure Merlin had absolutely no opportunity to escape, keeping each hand on either side of his hips to cage him in.

"Well, if you weren't playing with it, you were definitely doing something with it." Arthur said dryly, not acknowledging that he'd basically just manhandled Merlin into a more preferred position. "Otherwise, you wouldn't have had to keep readjusting it to refit me."

Swallowing hard, Merlin plastered on his signature cheeky grin, but it was much weaker than usual. "Have you ever considered you just gained a few pounds? So I had to make it bigger to fit you."

The dark haired boy didn't like the dark way that Arthur was analyzing him. Or maybe he did, because his heart was threatening to beat straight out of his chest.

For the first time since he'd approached Arthur with his armor in half, Merlin glanced around, feeling strangely self-conscious. Even though they were dead center in the crowd, nobody seemed to be looking their way. And those whose eyes he actually met with, looked away faster than he could blink.

Merlin's attention was dragged back into focus, as Arthur exclaimed loudly, "I am not fat!" And then the prince was pushing harder against his mouthy consort, leaving virtually no space between the two of them.

Merlin winced, feeling the sharp edge of the table cutting into his lower back. It would probably leave marks in its wake, but that was the least of his concerns. It wasn't like it would be the first time, in his very clumsy lifestyle, that he'd had bruises.

Arthur had to take in a large breath to calm himself, but all it did was agitate him more. Because he definitely hadn't just breathed in the fresh air he'd been going for. It was undeniably Merlin, and vaguely resembled the smell of a freshly burned and crackling fire. Or maybe it was the fresh smell that permeated the air straight after a roaring thunder storm.

Either way, it didn't matter what the smell reminded him of. All it did was exasperate everything that he was already feeling. Arthur had to clench his fists around the edges of the table to stop himself from spreading Merlin out on top of it. He would love to tie his mouthy consort to it, leaving him there as punishment for what he'd done to his armor, while Arthur rode off to have his victory.

Merlin pressed his hands against the top of the table, trying to hold himself up despite his very awkward, half-laying position. He gave Arthur a considering look before he said, "I really hope your helmet doesn't need the same help that your shoulder piece did."

Arthur narrowed his eyes, looking contemplative at the bratty consort giving him lip again. "And why would you have to fix my helmet?" He asked, the threatening undertone in his voice doing something to Merlin's insides. It was almost as if his insides were...quivering? Was that that right word for it? It didn't hurt, but it felt strange and new, combined with the strange warmth that flooded his body.

Merlin wasn't sure if he liked it or not.

Merlin licked at his abnormally dry lips, before he started talking, "Your helmet, it doesn't have a strap. It'll be harder to get your head in it if it grows any bigger than it already is."

Arthur supposed he should have expected that, with Merlin's mouthy attitude, but he somehow never did. It left him not knowing if he should just start laughing or if he should cry with frustration. His shoulders were shaking from the effort of stopping him from doing either. And with a low growl, he let his head drop. He was almost surprised when his head landed on something surprisingly soft, albeit very slim and thin.

Merlin's jaw dropped a little, feeling Arthur's blonde hair tickling at his cheek. If he had thought that Arthur was close before, it was nothing compared to right now. The prat was stupidly close, probably closer to Merlin than anybody had been his whole life. He could literally feel the hard lines of Arthur's upper body pressed against his own. Although that might just be the armor because Merlin refused to believe that Arthur could be that trim and fit.

Trying to look down, all he could see was the back of Arthur's thick blonde hair. And he nearly choked on the hair itself when he took in a large gasp of air.

Merlin should probably push him off right now, shouldn't he? He should bring his hands up between them, plant them on his chest and just shove. But he didn't. His fingers were twitching helplessly, curling around the edge of the table.

Arthur was just so warm, the way he was pressed up against him, like nothing more than a giant blanket of warmth. The quivering in his stomach had returned, and it made him even hotter than he already was.

"...Arthur..." Merlin said quietly, his voice shaking more than he would have liked. His voice had been so soft that it had barely reached Arthur's ears.

"Hmmm?" Arthur asked, finally raising his head away from Merlin's shoulder, with an almost dazed expression on his face, as if he hadn't registered the same things that Merlin had. Their faces now, were abnormally close again, maybe a little to close. Because probably for the first time in his life, Merlin actually found himself a bit speechless.

Merlin was supposed to say something right now, wasn't he? Even if it was something stupid, he should still say something! But his brain was strangely blank right now, unusually so. And it left him with his jaw moving up and down, without any words actually coming out.

His throat was feeling dry again, and it was an odd feeling that he was becoming strangely accustomed to. He had to shoot his tongue out to wet at his lips although really, it wasn't much help in the long run. As fast as he had wet them, they were already starting to dry again.

"...What's your favorite color...?"

Those were the first words that Merlin managed to spit out. But as soon as they were out of his mouth, Merlin felt his heart start to stutter. Maybe he should regret them, the simple question that had came out of his mouth, but he didn't.

He wanted to know Arthur's favorite color, as stupid and as silly as it sounded, the burning desire to know what it was started to form under his skin. And it wasn't the only thing he wanted to know. He wanted to know Arthur's favorite animal, and his favorite food, and if he had anymore friends than just that creep Markus.

But he also wanted to know the bigger things as well.

Like if Arthur really was good with his sword, or if that was just something that everybody said because heaven forbid their prince be less than perfect. He wanted to know if Arthur was looking forward to being king when his father stepped down, or if he had his own dreams that he'd pushed aside because of his duty to the crown.

And more importantly, even if he didn't like men, would he be open to trying it? Would he be hostile if Merlin just leaned over and tried to kiss his stupidly looking lips right now.

Some awareness seemed to return to Arthur's face, but he still didn't move away. "...My favorite color?" He asked, his eyes turning suspicious in less time than it took Merlin's stuttering heart to beat.

Merlin nodded, looking more eager to know than he wanted to, leaning up some off of the table. Arthur didn't stop him this time, he didn't manhandle him back into position, so at least Merlin was able to get into a more standing position. Although the base of his back was still pressed up harshly against the table, the wood cutting into his spine.

Arthur had moved back, giving Merlin the room he needed to straighten out some. But at the same time, he'd barely moved back an inch, and his hands themselves hadn't budged from the spot he had them on the table.

Merlin was still caged in between Arthur and the table, the blonde's arms acting almost like steel bars. The sorcerer was probably starting to like it, maybe more than he should. But he'd be damned if he ever told anyone that Arthur holding him in place like this, made him feel strangely dizzy. It was an experience that he'd never felt before, and it so new and strange, that it left Merlin unsure if he wanted something like this to happen again.

Arthur had to clear his voice to get Merlin's attention, and then he was saying, "My favorite color is irrelevant." And then Arthur was lowering his voice, making Merlin involuntarily shiver at the husky tone he started talking in. "What you are going to do, is tell me what you were thinking just taking my armor, and what you were doing with it."

X

If Merlin wanted to play this game, then Arthur would be more than happy to go along with it. If the blonde had to all but seduce the answers out of him, than he would. It was the only reason he hadn't moved away, when he realized just how close he was pressed up against Merlin's strangely slim body.

Or at least that was what he was telling himself. It was something that he had convinced himself of so throughly, that he didn't even question as to why he hadn't moved away yet.

But finding himself like this, in this position, nothing could have stopped him from categorizing the differences in his head. Everything that vividly reminded Arthur that Merlin was, in no way, a girl.

Merlin didn't have that long hair that most of the girl's Arthur went out with, the kind of hair that Arthur could get his hand tangled up in as they made out. But there was still enough length to it that Arthur could have probably used it, instead of his stupidly large ears, to drag him up to the castle to be watched by those armed guards like he had wanted.

Merlin's eyes weren't the same round and doe eyed, like most of the girl's that had caught the prince's eye over the years, but damn. Those eyelashes of his were probably just as long and as thick as any girl could hope to have, and matched with the darkness of the blue color he had, it brought a surprisingly amount of attention to just his eyes.

Merlin's lips also wasn't covered in whatever sticky concoction that girl's seemed to favor and smother their own in. Arthur had never been a big fan towards it anyway, having never liked the sticky residue that seemed to stick to him whenever he was done kissing a girl. So Merlin's probably didn't taste like cherries, or strawberries, or whatever the most popular flavor among the ladies were this week. Arthur hadn't exactly gotten much of a taste at their wedding, having gone so fast as to get it over with. And as soon as Arthur realized that he was staring at Merlin's lips, his eyes darted away before he could really register than he had been staring a surprisingly long time at another boy's lips.

But he didn't think nothing of it. He was just studying the man he was married to, just trying to find out all of his flaws. All Arthur was doing was memorizing all of the weaknesses that Merlin had...or at least the was what he convinced himself as doing.

It didn't stop him from taking in the rest of Merlin.

Merlin's chest was pressed up against his armored chest plate, so Arthur couldn't really feel much through it. But it wasn't to hard to tell the difference between Merlin and a girl's. The other boy's chest was completely straight and flat, leaving absolutely nothing to grab for leverage. Unlike a girl, where Arthur could grasp onto the engorged breasts to play with and hold onto as he thrusted inside of her.

Maybe, despite all of the trouble it had caused him today, it really had been a good thing that Arthur had sent Merlin away the night of their supposed consummation. If only because Arthur would have had nothing to grab up on top, leaving him flustered and thrown off his game, with no idea what he was supposed to do next. But he was pretty creative, if he did say so himself. If given time, he probably could have figured something else out, if only because his pride as a good love maker would have been on the line.

Boy or not, and as furious as he had been that night with all of the horrid thoughts that he'd had, things seemed a little different in the light of a new day. Arthur wouldn't have been able to throw the boy out of his room after they were done, looking disappointed and miserable, it would have completely ruined Arthur's reputation if his own husband wasn't impressed with his lovemaking skills. He probably wouldn't have sent him away until the boy was singing his praises...maybe...probably...if Arthur had been able to force himself to go through with it.

If the thought didn't make his skin crawl with uncertainty, and if Merlin wasn't such a hapless and obvious virgin.

And speaking of his skin crawling, well...there was a reason that Arthur was keeping his hips angled away from Merlin. Thank god he wasn't feeling any stirrings in his neither regions, he didn't think he would have been able to comprehend it if something like that happened. He was just happy that he didn't feel queasy, for the first time, being this close with another boy.

Maybe he wasn't queasy because he knew that he wasn't doing this because he wanted to. He was doing this because he wanted his answers, and he didn't care if he had to drag them out of Merlin's lips himself.

X

Merlin frowned, turning defensive upon Arthur's inquiries. "I was doing anything with it! It's fine, brought back and returned and everything." He said, almost surprisingly disappointed because he still didn't know what Arthur's favorite fucking color was.

All Arthur needed to do was give Merlin a little more of a push, and then he could back away as if none of this had happened. "Then what were you doing?" he asked, forcing his voice to go deeper, and more huskier. It almost sounded like it did when he tried to talk after an intense round of lovemaking.

Merlin rolled his eyes, but it was in an almost playful manner. It nearly threw Arthur off his game, making him frown baffled, because playful had not been the reaction he was going for. He had been thinking more of a blushing bride on her wedding night, kind of reaction.

"It's your custom, genius." Merlin said, with a teasing lilt to his voice that made Arthur think that the other boy wasn't really calling him a genius at all. "I was having Gwen show me how to put it on the right way. Just so I knew what I was doing."

Their faces had drifted closer together, and Merlin could feel Arthur's breath fan across his face. If he didn't know any better, he could have sworn that Arthur was doing it on purpose.

All Merlin would have to do was jolt up, and then he'd be kissing Arthur before the prat knew what hit him. But he didn't, and that was only because Arthur was jolting away from him before he could attempt it.

Maybe it was for the best...maybe.

As soon as Arthur was stepping back, putting some much needed space between him and his consort, Merlin nearly sagged against the table in relief, and also strangely, there was a pang of disappointment in his chest.

There had been some kind of heat between Arthur and him, something that Merlin was sure he hadn't been just imagining. And now that Arthur was no longer in his space, he could finally feel the fresh air hitting his heated skin. His breathing was labored, harsh and hard. He needed more air than his lungs were providing him with, and his heart was going faster than a horse could gallop.

X

Off to the sidelines, George's professional smile never waved, even as he held back a furious Morris. "You're supposed to be doing better." The manservant said calmly, as if he wasn't all but holding back a raging bull.

"Forget about being better! They looked like they were about to kiss!" Morris hissed, trying to drag George with him to where he would, hopefully, be able to strangle Merlin with his bare hands.

"I'm sorry if you don't approve of boy's being with other boy's, but they are married now." George said calmly, holding Morris back with surprising strength. "It would be perfectly acceptable for the two of them to kiss."

Morris felt his eye twitching, and he scoffed. Guy on guy action wasn't exactly a problem for him. He'd never had a problem with getting with either gender, as long as he got his itch scratched whenever the urge struck.

Morris swiveled his eyes to glare over his shoulder at George. "They didn't just look like they were about to kiss." The manservant said, as if his next word would make George let him go. "They were practically eye fucking on the table."

George just kept smiling at him, "Which is also perfectly acceptable among a newly married couple."

Morris almost wanted to punch George more than he wanted to punch Merlin. Almost.

X

"Wait, wait, wait! You gave my armor to a handmaiden?" Arthur demanded harshly, clenching his fists at his sides as he glared down at Merlin sagged against the table. He'd gotten his answers, and he didn't like them one bit. "You gave my armor to a peasant girl?! To do with what she wanted!"

And just like that, whatever spell that Merlin had fallen under, whatever heat that had his pulse racing, evaporated. And for a second, he could have sworn that the entire world around him completely shattered, as if it were made from glass as he remembered exactly how much of a prat Arthur was.

"She's not just a peasant girl!" Merlin defended, pushing himself away from the table. "She's the daughter of a blacksmith so it's not like she was clueless!" Although Merlin wouldn't admit that he hadn't known that before he had brought it to her. "And she's my friend!" As if that would make a difference to Arthur.

"Your friend?" Arthur scoffed. "She's only talking to you because she has to! She's a peasant and you're a consort! She'd probably be thrown in the stocks if she talked to you with anything less than respect."

Merlin felt his heart freeze up before he got his bearings back around him. "That is not true! She was my friend before she even knew that I was marrying a prat!" And he had to remind himself of that little fact, before he went down the rabbit hole of questioning every interaction he'd ever had with the handmaiden.

"I am not a prat!" Arthur snarled, glaring down his nose at the slimmer boy.

Merlin scoffed, giving Arthur an obvious look up and down. "If the armor fits." He said bluntly, rolling his eyes a little.

"It doesn't fit!" Arthur exclaimed loudly, throwing out his hands. The blonde would never admit this, but it actually did fit, quite well in fact. Merlin had done a decent enough job getting all of the straps back in just the right place.

And no, Arthur definitely wasn't flattered that Merlin had stolen his armor, and learned how to put it on just so he could learn how to put it on himself. As soon as he recognized that feeling, Arthur squashed it down, focusing instead on his fury over the audacity of this boy. Who thought it was okay to take his armor to a serving girl, her being the daughter of a blacksmith notwithstanding, and then mess around with who knows what.

Arthur was going to have to have Morris give his armor a good scrub down after this first round to get the stench of peasant hands off of it.

"It looks like it fits to me!" Merlin snarled, putting his hands on his hips and glaring down at his nose at the prince. And as much as he hated to admit it, especially during yet another fight with the blonde, the armor really did fit him quite well.

Arthur let out a low growl from somewhere deep in his throat. Scowling, Merlin narrowed his eyes, and raised his chin a little higher in defiance. Arthur took a step closer, getting impossibly close again. Only this time, Merlin didn't lean back against the table in an effort to create some space between them. He didn't budge an inch actually, even when Arthur's chest bumped against his own.

"I swear," Arthur said in his dark undertone. Only this time, it didn't give Merlin that strange and odd quivering warmth in the pit of his stomach. It actually made Merlin want to throw something at him, preferably his fist. But nobody could say that Merlin didn't learn from his mistakes. He'd seen how well him punching Arthur had gone every time he tried to hit him. "If I lose this competition because of what you did to my armor," Arthur's breath fanned out against Merlin's face because he was that close. "Then there will be hell to pay."

Scowling, Merlin rested his hand on the table behind him, wondering if there was anything on the table he could use to knock Arthur upside the head with. Surely he'd never see him own equipment coming after him...but inside of something strong and hard, Merlin's hand landed on something surprisingly soft.

His eyes glanced away from Arthur just long enough to land on the table before he brought them back up to Arthur's. The cape, the pendragon red cape that Merlin was supposed to be putting on Arthur before the prince had all but attacked him over a stupid piece of armor.

Well it wasn't what he was going for, but he could work with this. "Arthur," Merlin said slowly, his tone surprisingly soft.

But still, there was something off about his voice, there was something there that Arthur could just barely detect. It sent his nerve endings off in every direction, and he could literally feel the hair on his arms start to stand up. And before Arthur could back away from Merlin, before he could get away from the strange feeling that captured him, Merlin was swinging his arms over Arthur's head. Something heavy and familiar fell down the length of his back, and then Arthur was being dragged forward by a pressure on the back of his neck.

Merlin had swung his cape over his head and had the two strings he was supposed to tie around his neck, clasped firmly in his hands. He was using the strings to drag Arthur closer, so that their faces were far to close, just like they had been before. Only this time, Arthur wasn't in control, and his eyes widened with panic, because this was probably it. This was the moment where Merlin lost control and tried to kiss him.

But when it never happened, and Arthur and left frowning, confused as to why Merlin had dragged him so close if he wasn't trying to kiss him.

"I think," Merlin started, wrapping the strings of Arthur's cape around his fingers, just toying with the strings. "If you lose because of something like this, then maybe you're not this great swordsman that everyone keeps telling me you are."

Arthur felt himself stiffen up, "I am a great swordsman!" He exclaimed. But there was a slight waver to his voice, because now it was his turn to be completely thrown off by Merlin instead of the other way away like it was supposed to be.

Merlin dropped his eyes away from Arthur's, watching the prince's thick and very tan neck bob as the blonde swallowed hard. Merlin swallowed hard himself, feeling as if his fingers were numb as he slowly started to tie the cape properly.

"Well then," Merlin spoke, not looking up from where he was working on the strings. "I expect you to go out there today, and you are going to prove that to me." He slowly drew his eyes away from the knot he was working on to meet with Arthur's eyes. "I expect for you to impress me." And then he jerked the strings, tightening the knot.

Arthur spluttered, feeling the strings contract tighter around his neck, threatening to choke him. But then the strings started to relax as Merlin drew his hands away.

"Now," Merlin said in a more chipper tone. He smoothed his hands down over the front of Arthur's cape, smoothing out the non-existent wrinkles, mainly just so he had something to do with his hands. "Are you going to tell me your favorite color? Or am I going to have to guess?"

Arthur's brain was completely dead at this point, unable to understand what had just happened. And now Merlin was raising an eyebrow at him, looking as if he thought Arthur was particularly dim.

It took Arthur a minute to understand the question. After a moment of hesitation, "Blue," he said, practically forcing out the first color that came to mind. "My favorite color is blue."

Instantly, Merlin's cheeky smile spread across his face. "Blue, I'll remember that." And Arthur could have sworn that the other boy's eyes had seemed to brighten up at his answer.

And then Merlin was turning away, looking back over the table at what little they had left.

Only after Merlin had turned away, did Arthur allow himself to breathe. It was a very large and shaky breath, and he struggled to calm his nerves down. But now that he was staring at Merlin's back, a frown of confusion drifted onto the prince's face.

His favorite color wasn't blue, it never had been. He'd actually had a phase when he was a small child where he had absolutely detested the color. He had even asked his father if he could use royal decree to make the sky change its color, but clearly that hadn't worked out. So why had he told Merlin his favorite color was blue, when it had always been red?

"Now, for the belt." Merlin said brightly, turning back to Arthur. He was holding the belt that was supposed to keep Arthur's sword strapped to his side.

Arthur cleared his throat, "Just get on with it." He grunted, keeping his face angled straight ahead, his eyes watching two knights talking to each other as they waited for the announcer to call for them. But he could stop himself from getting one last dig in. "But just so you know, the belt goes on before the cape."

Merlin rolled his eyes, clearly not taking Arthur that serious. And that was proven even more true when he said a dismissive, "Yeah, yeah." And then Merlin was dropping to his knees in front of Arthur, his knees meeting harshly on the soft grass under him.

Arthur startled, taking half a step back, and his eyes went as wide as dinner plates as he looked down at Merlin. "W-what are you doing?" He demanded, his voice cracking as he paled, seeing Merlin on his knees before him.

Merlin looked at him as if he thought he was a dumbarse, "Putting your belt on." He said in a tone that said he thought Arthur was being dumb on purpose. "Now come here," he said, reaching to grab onto the edge of Arthur's cape, tugging him back so that he could reach easier.

Arthur swallowed hard, and quickly averted his eyes away from Merlin on his knees and back to those two talking knights. Anything was better than seeing Merlin on his knees, because of course the boy was just trying to put on his belt. He wasn't attempting something...highly inappropriate.

X

"I have to be better, I have to be better, I have to be better-" Morris kept chanting under his breath. Although, maybe Morris should be taking some pointers from Merlin. He'd been dressing the prince for so long, that it had never occurred to him to just boldly drop to his knees like that.

X

"Just so you know, Morris never had to get on his knees before to do this." Arthur grunted, feeling his adam apple bob as he swallowed hard. He never took his eyes away from those two knights a few table's over.

"Maybe you should just get him over here then, if you're just going to complain about my methods." Merlin grumbled, rolling his eyes again as he leaned up so that he was in a more half crouched position, instead of just on his knees.

Arthur pretended he didn't hear him, for whatever godforsaken reason he couldn't even begin to understand.

Merlin leaned forward, sliding his arm under Arthur's cape so that he could get the belt around the the blonde's back. He was so concentrated on trying to get the belt around him, leaning closer and and closer so that he could reach better, that he didn't realize how much more awkward his position was becoming.

Arthur sure did though, especially when he felt the side of Merlin's cheek just barely brush against a certain part of him that he definitely didn't want his consort to be touching.

Arthur nearly threw himself back from Merlin, nearly tripping over his own cape in his haste to get away.

Merlin wobbled, his arms going in large circles to keep himself balanced. "Arthur!" The boy shouted, his head snapping up to glare at the blonde prince. "What on earth are you doing?!"

Arthur froze mid-step when he realized how he'd just reacted. About how he'd just overreacted, would be a better word for it. Because of course Merlin wasn't trying to-what had his first thought been again?-mouth at his cock?

"Are you always this jumpy? Because you've done nothing but fidget since I started." Merlin complained, glaring up at Arthur from his half crouching position on the grass.

"I'm not jumpy! I'm just-" Arthur's protest died in his throat. Because really, what was he suppose to say? That he'd jumped away because he thought his virginal consort was getting inappropriately naughty with his neither regions, outside and in the middle of a crowd. "...Let's just finish this." He grunted, reaching up hand up to brush roughly through his thick blonde hair. Only to pull away immediately because he could feel the droplets of sweat starting to bead on his forehead.

Was he seriously already starting to work up a sweat? Before he had even had his first match? Because of Merlin? Crap, he was going to kill Merlin for doing this to him.

"Yes, let's. Now if only we can get you to stop moving." Merlin said, giving Arthur a suspicious look. Almost as if he expected Arthur to jump away from him again, and Arthur couldn't even blame him for it either.

"I'll stop if you just go faster." Arthur grumbled, purposely looking away from Merlin before he really did kill the boy.

"I'll go faster when you stop causing me problems!" Merlin exclaimed, his fingers tightening and un-tightening around the belt still clenched in his hand.

"Causing you problems!" Arthur exclaimed, his head whipping around to glare at the boy. He was causing 'Merlin' problems? Who was getting all up close and personal with his neither regions?!

"Yes, causing me problems." Merlin repeated, rising up just a little higher on his knees, glaring at Arthur.

"You littl-" Arthur froze, because for the first time, he was just now realizing that they were drawing the attention of the people at the table's closest to them. Arthur forced back his sharp reply, literally having to swallow them down before the rumor mill started to spin. Clenching his jaw, Arthur said in a forceful tone, "I'll be still. Just get on with this."

Merlin gave him another suspicious look, looking as if he would jump Arthur is the prince jerked away again.

But when Arthur didn't move again, Merlin went back to work. Merlin leaned forward, sliding his arm back under Arthur's cape with the belt. Arthur squeezed his eyes shut, and it took everything he had to really keep himself still. He could feel Merlin's other arm coming up around his other side, trying to het a hold of the other end of the belt. And it was all so innocent and casual, that Arthur felt ridiculous for feeling so panicky.

His only saving grace was that the side of Merlin's face was now pressed against his lower stomach. It could have been just a little further south, and in a much more worse position.

"So, you must be really nervous, huh." Merlin said casually, his hand fishing for the other end of the belt.

Arthur had been so focused, with his eyes squeezed tightly shut, on trying to feel when Merlin would finally find the other end of that stupid belt. That the sound of Merlin's voice nearly made him flinch.

"What are you taking about?" Arthur grunted, not knowing what he was going on about. He peeked through his eyelashes, down at Merlin, but all he could see was a head of thick dark hair.

"You must be nervous, with your fight coming up and all. That's why you keep being all fidgety." Merlin grunted, his eyes squinted as he tried to feel for the belt among the small of Arthur's back.

"I'm not being fidgety! And I don't get nervous." Arthur grumbled, scowling down at the dark head of hair below him, as if getting nervous was somehow below him.

"Really?" Merlin asked, glancing up. And neither boy were really sure who was more relieved when he finally got a hold of the other side of the belt. Arthur could finally breathe as Merlin drew back, holding each end of the belt with each hand. "But I thought that everyone got nervous." He commented as he started working the belt into it's buckle.

Arthur couldn't have stopped himself if he tried. "Will you shut up!" He exclaimed, feeling his temples start to throb with the forming headache that he was getting.

He hadn't even been thinking about the tournament before Merlin had mentioned it. For the first time in his life, he'd actually found something that distracted him from an upcoming fight, and of course it would be fucking Merlin. But now he was thinking about his fight, and he could feel the cold sweat break out on his skin.

He would never be able to admit this to anybody, not even to his own father who would be so disappointed in him if he knew. But Arthur always got nervous just before a fight, even one that he knew was coming up long in advance. No matter how many fights he'd been in, or how many fights that he won, he still felt this cold sweat breaking out all over his skin.

And then he was being distracted again, forced out of his thoughts and grunting when Merlin tugged on the belt to tighten it. The belt squeezed around his middle tightly, uncomfortably so, before Merlin adjusted it to a more comfortable setting, snapping the buckle close.

"You're so testy." Merlin grumbled, half under his breath as he finally pulled his hands away from Arthur's waist.

Arthur glowered down at the other boy, his glower never wavering as Merlin finally climbed to his feet. The blonde rolled his eyes when he saw the dark haired boy stumble over his own feet in the process.

Merlin turned back to the table, glancing over what little they still had to do. It was pretty much just the gloves, his helmet, and the sword.

"Okay," Merlin said, starting up a new conversation as he snatched up the gloves. "I think I can finally understand why you need help with the armor."

It was definitely more work that he thought it would take, whoever designed these armors just had to make things so much more complicated than it had to be. It hadn't looked nearly as hard when Gwen had been showing him, and he knew he'd already messed up several times already. He was more than surprised that Arthur hadn't already shoved him aside and instructed Morris to take over.

Arthur watched Merlin suspiciously, sure that there had to be something more to that statement.

"But," Merlin kept talking, turning away from the table with the gloves in hand. "Do you really need help getting dressed in your regular clothes?" That was the weirdest thing he thought about this whole manservant thing.

He could understand the armor now, and he could even understand a manservant bringing Arthur meals if he was actually working to much to remember getting himself food . Getting Arthur dressed in his everyday clothes, that was a whole different story.

X

"Is he trying to get me fired?" Morris hissed. His head whipped around to look at George with wide and frantic eyes.

The professional smile that George always wore never wavered as he said, "I'm sure my master is doing nothing of the sort."

Morris shot him a glare, cursing at George for making him see that he had to do better if he wanted to find a way to get Merlin to leave without anyone suspecting him of being involved. If George hadn't brought it to his attention, Morris could have busted up Arthur and Merlin by now.

X

"What are you blabbering about?" Arthur demanded, giving Merlin a suspicious stink eye. What was Merlin going on about, of course Arthur needed the assistant getting prepared in the morning. He needed Morris to pick out his clothes, and then get him dressed properly so that he had the extra time to think about other things. Usually like what he was going to do with the day ahead of him.

Merlin shrugged, scowling at Arthur's stink eye focused on him, "Just trying to make conversation." He grumbled.

"Well don't." Arthur snapped. "I do have a tournament to win and I can't do that with your voice chirping away in my eardrums." Merlin's voice was just so irritating right now, with the way he just kept on talking and talking and talking and god, did he ever shut up?

Merlin just smirked at him and Arthur's suspicious look returned. His consort reached forward and snatched up his right hand. "You can be mad at me all you want." Merlin said casually, tugging Arthur's glove onto his hand. "But I know you're only being this way because you're nervous about your fight."

"I thought I told you I wasn't nervous!" Arthur exclaimed, the frustration literally leaking out of his voice. Arthur found himself getting more and more frustrated the more Merlin talked.

"Sure, sure." Merlin said, a teasing lilt in his voice. Arthur nearly blew a gasket, letting out a frustrated huff of breath while glaring at his frustrating little consort.

Merlin just grinned cheekily, snatching up Arthur's left hand. He started pushing the glove onto the blonde's fingers, but had only made it over the fingertips when he stopped. Merlin's eye had been drawn straight to Arthur's wedding ring, glinting under the sunlight from his fourth finger.

Merlin was pretty sure that this was the first time he was seeing Arthur's ring since their wedding. It was strange to see it now, especially on the hand of someone else when he had gotten used to seeing it on his own hand.

Even though the ring was identical to the one Merlin wore in every way, it looked different as well. But that was probably just because the silver ring contrasted against Arthur's sun kissed skin in a way that it just...didn't, with Merlin's paler flesh.

"What are you doing?" Arthur suddenly asked. Merlin flinched at the sudden sound of his voice, his eyes shooting up to look at the blonde.

The prince had his eyes narrowed in suspicion, giving Merlin the side eye when he noticed that the other boy had stopped working.

Merlin felt himself flush, feeling as if he'd just been caught doing something that he definitely shouldn't be caught doing. "Nothing!" He exclaimed, almost squawking the word out as he quickly pushed Arthur's glove all the way on.

Arthur was still giving him the side eye as Merlin stepped back. Ignoring the blonde's suspicious eye on him, Merlin gave the prince a once over, making sure that he had everything in it's rightful place. Arthur had his voiders, the shoulder piece, his cape and gloves. Everything seemed to be in order except for two little things.

Merlin snatched up the helmet off of the table, ignoring the feel of the sun warmed metal against his hands. He stepped up to Arthur, and keeping his eyes down on his task, he lifted up Arthur's arm in an uncaring manner and stuffed the helmet under it. Then he was dropping it just as fast.

Arthur gave him an irritated look, as he curled his arm around his helmet before he could drop it. Merlin paid it no mind though, giving Arthur an accessing look one more time. And crap, even with the piss poor job Merlin was sure he'd done, Arthur still somehow managed to look good.

How was that even fair? Merlin couldn't even get himself to look that good, and not just because he didn't have his own suit of armor to wear.

Arthur let out a huff of irritated breath, rolling his eyes as he caught Merlin giving him a once over. He glanced away, looking around at his different competitors. Arthur knew he looked good, he always looked good. That didn't mean that Merlin had to make his attraction to him so obvious. Whatever little crush or whatever it was, that Merlin was forming on him, he could just get over it. It wasn't going to happen.

Merlin cleared his throat, "Yeah, great. I think you're all set." He said, with a little half grin forming on his face. He may have done a piss poor job, but everything seemed as if it was in its rightful place. Everything was buckled and snapped the right way, he'd doubled checked everything before he moved onto the next piece as he'd went.

But there was also one thing missing, one thing that he really wanted to give to Arthur. Arthur would probably look better if he had Merlin's favor tied around his thick bicep.

Arthur watched in boredom as he saw Merlin frantically check through his pockets.

Merlin scowled to himself, even tugging his pockets out to see if he has anything that he could use as a substitute for an actual favor. But he had absolutely nothing on him, not unless he wanted to rip a piece of cloth off the bottom of his shirt. And hell, it would probably be even more humiliating to give Arthur that. To let him watch and see just how poor Merlin was, that he had to rip his own shirt just to give the prat a stupid favor before his first match.

Merlin reached a hand up to the back of his head, scratching at his hairline as the dread hit him. He couldn't give Arthur a favor, he couldn't even give him a plain old cloth because he literally had none to give him. Hell, it was worse than him just not having something on him. He knew even if he searched through his meager belongings, he still wouldn't find anything acceptable for a prince. Hell, he wouldn't even find something acceptable to give another peasant.

Merlin scratched harder at the back of his hairline, staring down at the grass as he felt trying to ignore the dread that coursed through his veins. Merlin scratched harder at his hairline, feeling the palm of his hand brush against his neckerchi-

"Do you know what you're doing?" Arthur suddenly interrupted, unknowingly popping the bubble around Merlin's growing anxiety. The prince just cast Merlin another annoyed look before he was looking over the consort's shoulder to where he saw his sword still sitting there. So no, Merlin wasn't done even if he claimed to be.

Merlin's fingers froze in mid-scratch, giving Arthur an 'are you serious' look. Raising an eyebrow at the prince, he said, "Are you just now asking me that?"

Merlin had already, somehow, managed to put that armor together around Arthur. And ok, so he didn't have a favor, but he could still feel somewhat accomplished about what he did have. It wasn't every day that a peasant could successfully put on armor, with only briefly being taught how the hour beforehand. Armor was way to complicated for that, as Merlin had just found out.

Arthur rolled his eyes, not wanting to admit his mistake. He probably should have questioned Merlin's credentials for putting on armor before the other boy had actually done it. But whatever, his armor was on and he did still have a tournament to win. And no, he was definitely not going to-how had his consort put it-try to impress him, by winning the damn thing.

X

"About time, I thought they'd never finish." Morris smirked. "And that idiot still hasn't even realized that he forgot the sword." He cast an almost greedy look towards the blade, wanting to bring attention to it himself.

"What did we say about being better?" George asked, never taking his eyes off of his master.

Morris grumbled under his breath, looking annoyed by the reminder.

X

"Morris!" Arthur's sharp voice suddenly cut through the air. "Get over here and check his work." He was not going out there without being checked over just to make sure Merlin hadn't somehow screwed everything up. The last thing he needed to worry about while he had a tournament to win, was his armor falling off around him mid-battle.

"Yes sir, straight away sire." Morris spoke up, nearly falling all over himself when he rushed over. He slowed down as he reached them, putting on a more professional mask, because George was annoyingly right. He did have to be better, to be the unnoticed manservant that he'd always been to the nobles, until he could get Merlin out of the picture. Then he could swoop in and take what he wanted. If the king had allowed Arthur's marriage to a foreign peasant boy, then he saw no reason for the king to deny a serving boy who had been by Arthur's side for years, the right to marry his son.

Merlin crossed his arms over his chest defensively, watching as Morris started a slow inspection over Arthur's chest piece.

Arthur paid his manservant no attention, he kept his face angled straight ahead as Morris worked.

Merlin though, scowled as he watched Morris touching Arthur's upper body. The manservant was being careful and deliberate with his every move, taking his time as he checked over the voiders on Arthur's arms.

"Maybe you should put a little more trust in me." Merlin suddenly said, his eyes never leaving Morris's fingers as they trailed up Arthur's side to check on the shoulder piece. "I know I did it right." He had done everything that Gwen had told him to, and he'd made sure they everything wasn't to tight but definitely not loose enough to fall either.

"Oh, you did it right?" Arthur scoffed, because as if he was just going to believe Merlin's word. He moved his arm up out of the way like Merlin had told him to when he was checking the straps underneath the shoulder piece. Only it wasn't Merlin checking him now, it was Morris, and he'd always managed to check it just fine without Arthur having to do much moving.

Merlin scowled, finally looking away from Morris but only so he could glare at Arthur. He brought his hands down to his hips, "Yes, I know I did it right." He said firmly. He couldn't think of anything that he could have possibly missed. And sure, he didn't have the experience that Morris no doubt had with this, but he did know that he'd put everything like it was supposed to be.

"Morris, your assessment?" Arthur asked in a blunt tone. And even though he was talking to Morris, his eyes never left Merlin's own.

Merlin felt his stomach muscles tense up. Even though he knew he did it right, there he still felt a certain anxiousness go through him. And he had that voice whispering in the back of his mind, making him doubt it he had really don't it right, now that someone was taking such a close look at it.

Morris straightened up, his head popping up so that Merlin could see him standing behind Arthur. The manservant had already moved around to the back to check, moving Arthur's cape out of the way to access the back plating.

Merlin watched him when Morris didn't say anything at first, he even held his breath, positive that this would be the moment that the manservant told him exactly what he did wrong. And then it would just give Arthur more fuel against him, and he would never be able to do this again. Not that he was particularly looking forward to dressing Arthur again, but it was still a matter of pride, or at least what little pride Merlin still held onto after everything that's happened since those knights had shown up at his house.

Morris didn't answer for the longest time, rearranging Arthur's cape so that it went back down his back in an elegant and princely manner.

"...The armor itself it fine." Morris admitted. His face was as professional as any manservant should be, except for the smallest downward twitch of his lips. He had inspected every inch just to make sure, but it was acceptable work, especially considering Merlin's lack of training on the matter.

Morris still could have done a better job, a much quicker one for sure.

Merlin let out a breath of relief, feeling all of the tension in his muscles oozing out of him as he sagged over. He'd done it, he'd actually done it.

"Well," Arthur said, actually looking surprised by that news. "It seems as if you're not as incompetent as you look. Unlike some people." He shot a look at towards Morris, still pissed about how Morris had lost his armor so easily, and to Merlin of all people.

Morris bowed his head, as any manservant should when being reprimanded. Although with his head bowed, he was able to let the brief scowl appear on his face.

Merlin felt almost giddy, and his smile was so wide that it literally lit up his every feature. He almost started laughing right then and there, because he'd actually done it. He'd proven not only to Arthur, but to himself as well, that he could actually do this. He didn't have to flounder around knowing he was doing everything wrong.

Maybe, just maybe, he could be this consort that he was supposed to be.

"But sire," Morris said, his head still bowed as he spoke to his prince. But he peeked up through his bangs, glancing at the sword still resting on the table behind Merlin.

Arthur held up a hand to silence his manservant, not sparing him an actual look. Morris' mouth snapped shut in an instant, feeling his jaw clench to stop himself from interrupting.

"Don't get to excited." Arthur grumbled, giving Merlin a disgruntled look as he saw the giddy expression on his face. But all that did was make Merlin's face brighten up, looking at Arthur with an almost smug expression.

"I did it," Merlin said proudly, his excitement practically pouring out of him. "I did it,. Morris said so himself, there's nothing wrong with it." For once, he didn't completely dislike the manservant. "So you can go ahead now and admit that you were wrong." Merlin gave a feigned cocky grin. "Since there's nothing bad you can say."

Arthur scoffed, because there was no way in the seven hells that he would ever admit that he was wrong about anything.

"Is that right?" He asked, as he practically stalked forward like a predator, throwing his cape over his shoulder as he lowered his hand down to rest on his hip. His hand fell right behind the two strings that hung off of his belt, where his sword was supposed to be strapped to. "You think you're so good that there's absolutely nothing I can say about it?"

But Merlin wasn't intimated at all, like anybody else would have been. He just put his own hands on his hips, his grin widening when Arthur stopped just before getting into his space. "Oh, I know I'm that good." He said, in a cocky tone, although it was more playful that Arthur's had ever been.

Arthur leaned forward, purposely getting into Merlin's space, and he smirked when he saw Merlin's eyes widened. Okay, maybe this could be fun, winding Merlin up like that without delivering anything.

"Then turn around."

Merlin's eyebrows furrowed together in confusion, looking at Arthur with a 'what the fuck is he talking about look?' Merlin gave the prince a suspicious look before he glanced over his shoulder. And then his eye twitched as he saw the sword resting innocently on the table behind him.

"...Oh..."

"Yeah," Arthur smirked, straightening up, and looking at Merlin as if he thought he was a right idiot. "Oh."

Merlin cleared his throat, laughing sheepishly as he snatched up the sword. "Well, I suppose you will be needing to bring that with you." And then he was holding it out to Arthur, as if he was presenting it to him.

Okay, maybe he hadn't done the perfect job he'd thought he'd did. But hey, he still held onto the fact that he did alright considering it was his first time.

Arthur started reaching for the sword, and there was a moment of silence between them before something cut through the air. Arthur's hand froze hovering over the handle of his blade. The heads of the entire crowd whipped around in one direction, hearing the sounds of several horns start to blare for several long seconds before it started to die down.

The announcement, calling all of the competitors to start heading over to the stadium grounds.

And then faster than Merlin could blink, Arthur was snatching his sword out of his hands. One minute Merlin was holding it, and the next it was gone. Merlin was left watching Arthur storm off, his cape fluttering behind him as he walked ahead. All of the competitors were actually walking ahead, leaving behind Merlin and all of the manservants.

"I believe that went marvelous, sire." George said brightly, now standing at Merlin's side. Merlin jumped, his head whipping around to look at his manservant. George just smiled back at him.

Merlin sighed, relaxing when he realized it was just George. And then he rolled his eyes, turning his head to look back in Arthur's direction, but the prince was already lost somewhere in the crowd.

"Yeah," Merlin grumbled, the sarcasm obvious in his tone. "He's really loving me now." He didn't think he'd made much of a process with Arthur as he would have liked. Although really, at least neither of them had tried to attack the other this time. That was some kind of progress...right?

"Sir Merlin?" Another voice said from behind him, and it was right next to his ear to, creepily close. Merlin found himself flinching from surprise, looking confused at Morris, who had been left behind with the rest of them.

"...Morris..." Merlin said, not looking to excited at the prospect of conversing with the manservant.

George, standing behind Merlin, gave Morris a raised eyebrow over his master's shoulder. As if to remind Morris with just a look alone, that he had said that he would be better.

Morris just gave him a mockery of a smile, before shifting his attention back to Merlin.

"Was there something you needed? Or is there something wrong?" Merlin asked in an almost bland tone, watching around him as some of the other manservant's started packing up the extra equipment they had brought out with them.

"Me?" Morris asked, feigning baffleness. "No, no, there's nothing wrong with me. I just wanted to ask if you were alright."

Merlin raised an eyebrow at him, "Me?" He asked. Was there something that he was missing here? Because he doubted that Morris was actually showing any real concern for him. "There's nothing wrong with me, why?"

"Well, I couldn't help but notice today, how...close...you seemed to be getting to the prince." Morris commented, sounding surprisingly casual.

Merlin stiffened, narrowing his eyes at the manservant. "Well, he is 'my' husband." He said, not denying the several times that he'd gotten close to Arthur while he'd dressed him. And he made sure to enunciate the 'my' part, because it hadn't gone unnoticed by him that Morris had gotten close as well. Only Morris had gotten inappropriately close, considering he wasn't the one married to him.

Merlin watched as something shift in Morris' eyes, but it was gone as soon as it came. And then Morris was flashing him a concerned smile. "Forgive me if I'm out of line, but I'm just worried about you."

Merlin smiled, looking uncertain by this. "Worried about me? I don't see why you would be." Maybe if Morris was somebody like Gaius, or his mother, he could see being worried. That was practically their job, after all. But Morris was somebody else entirely. He was just the guy that spent way to much time with his husband than Merlin liked to admit.

Merlin watched as Morris glanced around, as if he didn't want anyone to overhear their conversation. The other servants were starting to leave, bags thrown over their shoulders as they started heading towards the stadium themselves.

And then Morris was reaching forward, putting a soft hand on top of Merlin's wrist. Merlin's eyes shot down to it before he looked back at Morris, giving him a 'why the else is this guy touching me,' look.

"I just wanted to make sure that you were being cautious. I mean, I know he doesn't look like it, but Arthur can be pretty dangerous."

Merlin snorted before he could stop himself, and he watched as Morris' eyes narrowed for only a second, before he blinked and it was gone.

"Arthur is plenty dangerous, I know that better than anyone." Merlin said bluntly. "And I have the bruises to prove it." Like the ones on his back from how many times he had fallen over when Arthur had been trying to train him. It was nothing serious, and they would fade away in a few days. But Merlin supposed that just came with the territory of being married to a prince. Especially one where Merlin was forced to participate in his training sessions.

"I don't believe you understand just how dangerous he can be." Morris said slowly, putting as much concern into his voice as he could. He could paint a picture for Merlin, make him think that Arthur was a violent person. And sure, Arthur could be a violent person, but it was mostly just throwing things at Morris every now and then. The blonde wasn't a dangerous abuser who would murder his spouse in cold blood.

But Merlin was still to new around here to know that Arthur wouldn't go that far.

Merlin looked down at the hand that Morris still had on his wrist. And then he was giving the manservant a raised eyebrow.

Morris' lips thinned but he removed his hand, taking a step back to remain at a more respectful distance. "My apologies, Sir Merlin. I shouldn't touch you in such a way."

'You shouldn't touch my husband, either.' Merlin thought, but he didn't say the scathing comment. Instead, he crossed his arms over his chest and said, "Alright, I'll bite. What don't I understand about how dangerous Arthur is." He even rolled his eyes at the last part because yes, Arthur was a prat and an arse and sure, he'd already bruised Merlin in the short time he's been here, but he didn't see the blonde as 'dangerous.' And okay, Arthur would probably have him burned if he ever found out Merlin was a sorcerer, but all he had to do was keep Arthur from ever finding out.

He'd kept his secret pretty decently for nineteen years, he could do it for the next few decades.

"Well isn't it obvious? I mean, you saw the evidence yourself." Morris said, looking at Merlin as if he expected him to know what he was talking about.

But Merlin didn't know what he was talking about, and that was obvious from the look on his face.

Morris gave an almighty sigh, feeling as if he might as well be pulling teeth from how little Merlin was actually listening to him. In a hushed tone, Morris elaborated what he was talking about. "The book."

And then he waited for the realization to happen, for Merlin to have a little torch go off above his head as it finally hit him what Morris was talking about. He even leaned closer, waiting with baited breath for it to happen...he waited...and waited...and waited...

Leaning closer himself, Merlin asked in the same hushed tone, "...What book?"

Merlin watched the expressions shifting on Morris' features. Disbelief was the only one that he could really recognize, and it was gone just as soon as he saw it. And Morris was back to his more neutral expression.

"The book that the prince gave you." Morris said slowly, through his clenched jaw. But Merlin was still looking at him blankly. It took everything Morris had to not scream in frustration, but no, he was able to keep his head cool. "The book he gave you for your etiquette in tournament do's and don'ts."

And that was when Morris, figuratively, saw the little torch go off in Merlin's head.

"Ooooh, that book." Merlin said slowly. "What about it?"

Morris so badly wanted to drop his head into his hands, just because of how badly frustrating it was talking to Merlin. He was doing Arthur a favor, trying to find a way to get rid of the boy. "What I'm saying," he started through his clenched teeth, speaking in slow terms to make sure that Merlin understood him. "Is that he burned that book. Prince Arthur took a torch and burned that book just because he didn't like it."

There was a moment of silence between the two where Merlin and Morris just stared at each other. Then there was the subtle twitch of Merlin's lips going upwards. Morris glowered, already knowing what was going to happen before it actually happened.

Merlin threw his head back and started to laugh. A huge, belly bursting laugh, with a wide and carefree grin spread across his face. "Y-you think-" Merlin struggled with finishing his sentence because of all his laughing. "You think A-Arthur's dan-dangerous because he bur-burned a book?"

Morris felt his face flushing, and he had to clench his fists at his sides tightly as the embarrassment rolled through him. Okay, Morris could admit that it hadn't been his best plan. He knew that he could come up with something so much better, he always did when he needed to, but how was he supposed to know that Merlin wouldn't scare easily. Some pretty words or a vaguely disturbing thought planted in the mind was often enough to make people think the way Morris wanted them to.

It wasn't the first time he'd manipulated somebody, and he knew the other servants hated him because they knew he was doing something, they could just never understand what he was trying to pull. He was to smart to be caught so easily.

But Morris liked to think that they hated him because of his job, the hatred came with the territory of being Arthur's personal manservant. They were all just jealous because they themselves weren't skilled enough to work as hard as Morris had over the years. He knew most of them talked about him behind his back, but it didn't matter as long as the lesser servants didn't grow bold enough to say anything to his face.

He'd never had someone laugh at him though, not with the things that he had to say to them. The subtle threats that he could use to get things going the way he wanted them to, the word games that he could play without most people even realizing that they'd been tricked.

That kind of skill was almost intoxicating to have.

"It's not funny!" Morris said loudly, over Merlin's laughter. The laughter grated on his nerves, and rung in his head. But all he could do against Merlin, the prince's consort, was glower. He had no idea what kind of danger he would be in if he pushed Morris far enough. He had absolutely no idea that the only reason he was still safe from Morris' wrath, for now at least, was because of the protection Arthur's crown gave him.

It was still to early for Morris put all of his cards on the table, to show Merlin just how far he could go. No, not yet. He would have to take his time, and come up with a much better plan. A plan that wouldn't eventually be tracked right back to him, if anybody even cared enough to question Merlin leaving.

"Okay, okay." Merlin said, his laughter dying down. But he still had that irritatingly cheeky grin on his face.

Morris took a deep breath, as it calm himself down his nerves, before he smiled at Merlin, a thin lipped kind of smile. "I don't believe that you are taking this as serious as you should be."

Merlin raised an eyebrow at him, "You're telling me that I should be scared." He waved a hand somewhere behind him in the direction that Arthur had gone. "Of Arthur?" He stopped to cross his arms over his chest. "Because of what? He had a spoiled tantrum when he was a child and burned one of his books?"

"Merlin," Morris said slowly, making his every word as deliberate as he could. "Arthur is dangerous, more dangerous than you know. I've been around him for a long time, much longer than you have, and he gets really mad really easy."

Merlin felt his face scrunching up with a confused expression. "I uh, I don't think I have much to be worried about. I'm pretty sure I've made Arthur plenty mad since we've met, and he hasn't exactly done anything so..."

Merlin actually found it amusing to wind Arthur up, probably more than he should, but it had never struck him as dangerous before. But still, thinking back on it, Merlin remembered seeing Arthur watching him as he'd gotten him dressed. And when he would talk, there was something dark in his voice. But it hadn't given him an 'I'm in danger, I need to run or I'm seriously going to get murdered', kind of vibe. It had been a different kind of darkness altogether, something that Merlin couldn't really explain since he barely understood it himself. All he really knew, was just the thought of it was sending a spike of warmth straight through the pit of his stomach.

Morris' lips thinned in impossible amount, looking almost white by this point. "It's just a matter of time, Sir Merlin." He said that last bit, as if he thought it might somehow soften Merlin up to his way of thinking. "With the way you behave around him," Merlin stiffened, looking almost offended and Morris was quick to correct himself. "I just meant that you treat him as more of a friend, than a prince. It's just-" Morris stopped to take a deep breath so that he could center himself. "It's just not something that we're used to seeing around here."

"He's my husband." Merlin said, lifting one of his shoulder's into a half shrug. "I'm not going to treat him as if he's better than me just because he's a prince. We're married, so we're equals and all that."

Morris swallowed the bile threatening to come up. Because no, Merlin wasn't Arthur's equal, he never would be. It was Morris, who had put in all of this work and time, who deserved to have such close ties to the throne. Not this farm boy! Who Morris bet couldn't even tell the difference between a dinner fork and a dessert fork.

But he swallowed his temper, not willing to make a scene when there were still a couple of manservants hanging around the training grounds. Only a couple, but that was enough for Morris to put a steaming lid onto his growing temper.

"Be that as it may," Morris said slowly. "If he was willing to set a book on fire as a child just because he didn't like it, imagine what he can get away with now as an adult." Merlin narrowed his eyes as Morris kept talking. "I mean, the prince isn't used to someone...treating him with such..." he waved his fingers as if he was trying to find the right word to use. "Disrespect."

Merlin stiffened, a little scowl dropping onto his face. He didn't treat Arthur with disrespect! Okay, so maybe he didn't respect him, but the guy could be such a jerk at times! But it wasn't like Merlin was going around spitting in his face or something. "I don't disrespect him." Merlin said, his tone of voice surprisingly cold. "I treat him just like I would any other person."

"And that's the problem." Morris said excited, as if Merlin was finally understanding what he was trying to say. "Because he's not like any other person, he's a prince. He deserves to be treated better than anybody else, simply because it's his birthright."

Merlin snorted, his stiff muscles starting to relax. "His birthright? So you're saying he was born commanding respect? And why? Because he was born into the royal family?"

"That's right." Morris said, his tone sounding clipped and firm. "If his own consort isn't going to treat him with the dignity that a prince deserves, then how is his own people supposed to?"

Merlin crossed his arms over his chest defensively. "Maybe you should be asking him that. I mean, he's the one that bullies the servants, yourself included. Or did you forget the day that we all met?"

Morris went stiff, a flush of humiliation burning across his face as he remembered that dreaded day. The day that Merlin had come to his rescue the day he rolled into town from whatever backwater town he came from. "I'm just trying to help you." Morris said, his tone surprisingly sharp for talking to someone who was above him in terms of status.

"Well, I fail to see why I need your help when dealing with my own husband." Merlin said bluntly. "Or why it is any of your concern."

Morris was starting to see that this was going nowhere between them, that they were practically going around in circles. And he really needed to get to the stadium so that he could wait in the back with the other manservants. Arthur might have need of him, and he'd need to be there to help if his armor needed some adjustments after the fight. And Merlin wouldn't be there to ruin in, as he would most likely be finding himself a place in the stands to watch.

Morris stepped up to Merlin, a surprisingly convincing concerned look appearing on his face. "I was just trying to help, but clearly you're not interested." Merlin narrowed his eyes at the manservant, not sure whether he should believe his concern or not. Morris kept talking, "I just hope you know what you're doing, before something happens to send Arthur over the edge. And it's you that he sets on fire instead of a book, metaphorically speaking, of course."

Merlin felt a chill go down his spine, being greatly unsettled by those words. He swallowed hard before he forced out, "I'll be worried the day he actually does set me on fire, metaphorically speaking, of course."

"Of course." Morris said, his eyes dark. The manservant took a step back, giving Merlin the space to breathe. "Please, forgive me for my impudence, Sir Merlin. I just didn't want any harm to befall you." He said, throwing himself into a deep bow, just like he would Arthur.

But Merlin felt as if Morris was mocking him with it, instead of showing respect like he would to Arthur.

"If you'll excuse me, I need to be going with the other manservants now." Morris said, glancing up at Merlin through his hairline before averting his eyes back to the ground. But he still didn't move from his bowed over position, leaving Merlin looking at him baffled.

"He's waiting to be excused, Sir Merlin." George said, whispering in his ear. His own manservant had been waiting behind Merlin without saying a word, which was highly disturbing because Merlin could almost forget that he was even there in the first place.

"Uh..." Merlin started, looking helplessly. He'd never had to...excuse...somebody before. They usually just left when they were done talking. "...You're excused?" But it sounded more like an unsure question than anything else.

Morris finally stood up from his bowed over position. "Thank you, Sir Merlin." He did another quick bow before he was taking off, following in the direction that all of the other manservants had gone in.

As Morris walked away, with his back towards the other two, a brief smirk flitted across his face before it vanished just as quick. He was pretty sure he'd unsettled Merlin enough for today, or at least got him thinking. And he hadn't lost his cool and started shouting, maybe today would be a better day than he'd started thinking it would be.

Merlin and George were the only ones left on the training field, standing among a great abundance of empty tables.

"Sir Merlin, would you like to head to the stadium where the tournament is to be held?" George asked, his professional tone never wavering.

Merlin's head whipped around, having almost forgotten that they still had somewhere to be, "Uh, yes. The tournament...let's...get going to the tournament." He finished weakly, and quickly started walking in the direction that everybody had gone in.

"Of course, Sir Merlin." George said, following after him, and somehow making it sound as if it had been Merlin's idea all along.

But Merlin didn't really hear him, George's voice had sounded muffled to his ears. He was walking, his eyes trained to the ground as he was lost in thought, still feeling unsettled by what Morris had said, about how long it would be before Arthur set him on fire. And sure, Merlin had tried to be as calm as could be, saying he's not gonna worry until it happened.

But that was the thing.

It was a very real possibility that Arthur might set him on fire one day. It just kind of hit way to close to home, because according to Camelot's law, he could very well find himself on the pyre someday. And maybe Arthur would like to be the one to light the match, once he discovers what Merlin is.

Merlin felt a very disturbed shiver going down his spine, a shiver that he couldn't have stopped if he tried. His fingers clenched and unclenches at his sides, Morris hadn't realized just how on the nail he had hit with Merlin.

"Sir Merlin," George's voice broke through his anxious fog.

Swallowing hard, and trying to put the terrifying imagery that Morris had brought to mind, he shifted his gaze to George. The manservant was walking half a step behind him, and was still carrying around the stupid pitcher of juice that Merlin felt guilty for not drinking. But he'd probably throw it all up if he did try to drink something right now, with his stomach twisting up in worried knots.

"I feel as if I must apologize for Morris' behavior." George said, his hands twisting together and it took Merlin a minute to realize that the manservant was being anxious.

"Apologize?" Merlin asked, his lips tugging downward into a frown. "Whatever for?" It wasn't like it was George's responsibility to apologize for Morris, nor was it George's fault that Morris had said all that he did.

"Well," George started. "It's not proper for a manservant to get into our master's affairs. And I'm sure he thought he was trying to help you in some way, it really wasn't his place to talk to my master about his own master."

"Wait, wait, wait." Merlin jerked to a stop, and George nearly ran straight into him. But Merlin ignored that, raising an incredulous eyebrow at George. "Did you just call me your master?"

It was bad enough that he had George saying 'Sir Merlin' all the time. But actually being called master was another thing entirely.

George seemed to think that Merlin had taken some kind of offense to his words. "Oh, I apologize!" He said quickly, nearly throwing himself into a bow. "I will be more than happy to call you Master Merlin from now on..."

"No, no, no!" Merlin said quickly, waving his hands, he was not going to get that started. He sounded tired when he said, "Would you listen to me if I just asked you to call me Merlin?"

"...Consort Merlin?" George asked, frowning as he straightened up his bow. "I know you've told me when I first started attending to you that you didn't want me to call you that. But if you've changed your mind, I will be happy to address you as such."

"...I think I'll just stick with Sir Merlin." Merlin grumbled, half under his breath. It was the least horrible out of the lot, even if Merlin didn't think of himself as a sir. He was just Merlin, but George seemed to have a problem with thinking of him as 'just Merlin.'

"Of course, Sir Merlin, as you wish." George said, as they started walking again towards the stadium grounds. "Anyway, as I was saying, I hope you didn't take to strongly to what Morris said. I'm sure that the prince wouldn't dare dream of actually hurting his consort."

Merlin, who had been walking ahead at a faster pace as if trying to escape George's rambling, winced. "And how can you be so sure?" He asked, voice quiet as he glanced down at the ground.

Merlin hated to admit it, but the insinuation Morris had made was just to close to what he'd been thinking at the beginning. It had been his biggest concern when he heard he'd be married off to Arthur. That the prince would be able to hurt him, abuse him, and nobody would care because he was a prince and Merlin was just a common peasant. That Merlin would be trapped not only in a loveless marriage, but in an abusive one as well.

It was like all of his fears and worries for that situation happening, had returned to the forefront of his mind. Things that he had thought he'd set aside after he actually met the blonde.

"Well, he hasn't hurt you, has he? Sir Merlin?" George asked, still trailing after Merlin like a lost puppy.

Merlin's head snapped up, glancing over his shoulder to look at George. "No..." he said slowly. "...I suppose he hasn't..."

Merlin hadn't known Arthur all that long, not even a full two weeks yet. But in that short time, Arthur hadn't actually hurt him. Sure, there had been moments when the prince had been annoyingly rough...

Like when he had grabbed Merlin by the scruff of his neck and threw him out of his rooms the night they were married. Or when he had grabbed Merlin's wrist, preventing him from leaving that little alcove they'd found themselves in.

Arthur had bruised his body to, like that time they fought in the marketplace, or when they'd had that training session. But it wasn't like that was abusive behavior, because Merlin had been fighting back just as much. It was more like sparring than an actual fight.

And Arthur could be mean, the way he'd insinuated that Merlin was a gold digger. But that was something that they could get past, it was something that they could work through. And he was sneaky, like how he'd somehow gotten out of that little alcove without answering a single one of his questions.

And Arthur was so dismissive towards his own people, the peasant one's at least...

But there had been other things as well, little moments here or there that made Merlin wonder if Arthur was really as bad as he acted. Like how he'd asked Merlin what he was talking about when he'd confronted him about his behavior towards the peasants at their wedding dinner. He'd seemed so confused, as if he honestly didn't know what Merlin was talking about. And how Arthur had sat with him during their training session, taking that small break just because Merlin was exhausted. It hadn't lasted long, but that was just because Arthur was apparently an energetic monster who never took a rest when it was needed. And then there was the way Arthur had pinned him up against the table just now...

Merlin swallowed hard, feeling the back of his neck start to heat up, even as he struggled to keep it at bay. He raised his hand up to rest on his chest, and he could feel the steady thumping of his heart against his palm. It wasn't just his imagination, it was really beating harder than it usually did.

Was it beating that fast...because of Arthur?

"Sir Merlin?" George suddenly asked, and Merlin jerked his hand away from his chest. He felt his face heating up even more, feeling as if he'd just been caught doing something he definitely shouldn't have been doing.

"Uh, yes, George?" Merlin stuttered, tugging on his shirt. Not to straighten it out, but just so he could have something to do with his hands.

"If I may be so bold as to ask you of this, but are you alright? You've nearly walked into something several times." George pointed this out, and Merlin had to reel to a stop. He'd nearly walked straight into a wagon parked on the side of the street. And according to George, it hadn't been the first time he'd nearly ran into something,

Merlin hadn't even noticed.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm fine, absolutely dandy, I have actually never been more better in my entire life..." Merlin trailed off with his ramblings, taking note of where they were.

They were the only one's around, because pretty much the entire city had gone to today's tournament. But they were getting closer to the stadium, because Merlin could hear the crowds of people talking just around the corner.

"If you're sure..." George said, looking uncertain. But heaven forbid if he dared to question his master, or what his master choose to divulge to him.

"I'm..." Merlin stopped them before they could go around the corner. The crowds of people were louder here as they flooded into the stadium, everybody trying to find a good seat before they were all taken up. He turned wide eyes onto George. "Actually, no, I don't think I am okay..."

George frowned, looking more worried than he should over somebody he had just met. "Would you like for me to fetch your uncle? I am sure he's around here somewhere. He's needed in case somebody gets hurt during their fight."

"No, no, no, this is definitely not a problem that my uncle can fix." Merlin said shakily, leaning against the wall of the building they were standing next to.

"Is there anything that I can do to assist you then, Sir Merlin?" George asked, but his voice was muffled to Merlin's ears again. Merlin wasn't listening to a thing that George said, lost in his thoughts as he was.

Merlin thought of Arthur and all of the problems that the prat had caused him since they'd met. From the moment Merlin had tried to throw that stupid punch at him, all the way to when Arthur had snatched his sword out of Merlin's hand and stormed away. And he thought of how Arthur's annoyingly straight blonde hair, and his stupid blue eyes, and the way his arms had felt when he'd caged Merlin against the table, and his oddly adorable slightly crooked front teeth...

"I think I have a crush on Arthur!" Merlin blurted out, interrupting George and his ramblings.

George looked started by this sudden declaration, "Oh, is that so?" He asked calmly, as if this realization wasn't a horror show for Merlin.

Merlin raised his hand back to his chest, feeling the steady and frantic beat of his heart against the palm of his hand. It had sped up faster when he'd started thinking of Arthur again. So fast, that he thought it could beat straight out of his chest at any moment.

There was no way that was just a coincidence. Arthur really was the cause of this, the reason he felt so heated and flushed, the reason his heart was trying to beat out of his chest.

The idea that Merlin could have somehow formed a crush on someone like Arthur...it was terrifying. But also, strangely exhilarating, in a way. And the way he felt his cheeks heating up the more he thought about it...it was strange, but not unwelcoming.

Merlin had crushes before over the years, he was nineteen, of course he had. But they hadn't lasted long, those feelings were practically gone by the time he'd recognized them for what they were. And even then, those brief moments hadn't felt like this at all.

This was something different, something new, something...stronger, than he wanted to admit he could feel for someone like Arthur. And sure, Merlin could recognize that there were a few times where he thought Arthur was cute, but actually liking him...that was new territory all together.

But the more he thought on it, the more the dots started to connect. He had told Gwen that he didn't like Arthur, but maybe that wasn't as true as he first thought it was. He had to like Arthur, it was the only thing that made sense. Like the reason Merlin had found himself wanting to kiss Arthur earlier, and why he was still bitter over how their first kiss had gone...

At those thoughts, Merlin raised a trembling finger to touch at his lips, but there was nothing there to indicate that Arthur's lips had ever touched his. There was nothing there that could remind Merlin of how it felt. Arthur had gone far to fast and quick, Merlin had barely been able to register it happening before it was over.

He tried to imagine it being done a different way, he tried to imagine Arthur pressing his lips against his own. Only this time, the prat wouldn't be going fast. He would take his time, he would go slow, really letting Merlin feel all of the things he hadn't felt the first time.

Merlin flushed a beat red, swallowing his incredibly dry throat as he thought of something a little more...risqué. Like Arthur pulling him close so that they were pressed up against each other, kind of like they were on the table. If Arthur kissed him again...would he like it?

Merlin thought he just might.

And there were other things as well that made it so obvious that he had somehow grown a crush on his own husband. Like the way he got so irritated because Morris was touching all over Arthur...was he...had he been...was he jealous?

Merlin didn't think he'd ever felt jealous before. He usually just took things as they were, and was happy with what little he got. But here he was, jealous, because another man was touching his husband.

Oh god, he really did feel like an idiot. How had he not seen this happening, when Merlin might have still had a chance to stop it from forming at all.

"Oh god," Merlin moaned, bringing a hand up to rub between his eyes. He could practically feel the heat coming off of his face. "I am in so much trouble..."

No wonder he wanted to give Arthur a favor so bad, no wonder he was so disappointed for the first time in his life when he realized he couldn't afford something.

"Why?" George asked, and Merlin had once again, almost forgotten that he was still there. "I think it's wonderful that you have bonded with your husband."

"What? No it's not!" Merlin exclaimed, in an almost frantic tone as he jerked his head back up. George looked at him startled, having not been expecting this kind of reaction from him. And then Merlin started babbling, his words making no sense at all since he left most of what he meant out of what he was saying.

"Arthur! He's...arse...and the peasants...threw me out...room...married to him...but Morris was...but he sat with me...training session...tried teaching me to throw a real punch...he'd been avoiding me most of the week...but he pinned me against the table...I think I liked it...and I still can't afford to give him a real favor...but I still wanna kiss him...is it bad that I both wanna kiss and punch him at the same time...I can't have a crush on him if I wanna do both, right?...and he wouldn't let me leave the alcove...but he did promise to answer my questions...but he a little sneak, didn't tell me anything..."

"Oh! You want to give the prince a favor?" George found the need to interrupt.

He usually wouldn't dare interrupt his master, he had been trained better than that. But at the same time, he had a feeling that his master could go on for a long time. George didn't know what he meant about an alcove, or about wanting to punch the prince, or something about throwing him out of, what was it...a room?

But George did recognize favors, and the important aspect that they represented among the nobles.

Merlin's head snapped up, having been so caught up in his ramblings that he'd forgotten he'd been doing it to George...again. Biting at his lip, Merlin opened his mouth to ask, "It's not a bad idea, right? I mean, he's my husband, I should probably give him a favor for the tournament. Just so he knows I'm rooting for him, and that I'm..." he didn't want to say interested.

It had been bad enough trying to work himself up to giving Arthur something before. But now that he realized he had a crush on him...it was so much worse than before.

"I think it's a marvelous idea, Sir Merlin." George encouraged.

"You do?" Merlin asked, looking at George with startled eyes. He hadn't expected the manservant to encourage him so happily. But he had gotten Gwen's opinion on the subject, maybe it was time for him to get some other perspective's as well. "Well I'm not entirely sure I'll go through with it. He is kind of a prat, and I don't want his head to get any bigger than it is if I give him one..."

"Oh, Sir Merlin, it is entirely your decision." George said, with a little bow of his head. "It's not for me to meddle in your affairs, or whatever you decide..."

Merlin nearly rolled his eyes at that, and just barely refrained himself from doing so. "George, I'm sure you know more about this stuff than I do. His head getting bigger notwithstanding, should I bother with finding something for him? And then go track him down before his first match starts?"

He scratched at the back of his neck uncomfortably. He still didn't know what he would actually give Arthur, but still, surely he could find something before he got to the prince. Even just a stray piece of cloth that would suffice until Merlin was able to raise enough money to get a proper one.

"Oh no, you don't want to do that." George said quickly, before Merlin could start his one man mission on tracking something down that he could pass off as a favor.

Merlin frowned, looking back at his manservant confused. "I...don't...?"

George shook his head, "It's highly unorthodox to give a knight a favor before the first rounds. Most people wait until the second, or even the third, before they try giving away their favor."

Merlin frowned, "Really? But why?" The more he stayed in Camelot, the more confused he got. It seemed kind of silly to him to wait so long. Why shouldn't he give Arthur a favor before the first round?

"It's some kind of unspoken rule among the ladies." George states, making Merlin wonder how George knew it then. But the manservant was talking again before he could ask. "If a lady is going to give a knight her favor, then she wants to make sure that he has a real shot at winning. She doesn't want to pick a knight to soon, and then be humiliated because he lost in the first round."

"...That's so stupid." Merlin said, eye twitching. "I thought favors were more...romantic...than that. Like you gave them to someone you like, not just whoever you think is going to win." George made it sound as if they were betting on race horses or something, instead of rooting for the guy they liked to win.

"Oh, it is." George said, nodding his head while making Merlin more confused than ever. "Well, it's supposed to be. And heaven forbid me from speaking ill of our noble ladies, but some are more interested in courting the winner than they are with the knight himself."

Merlin shook his head, reaching up a hand to run it through his hair. His face was nothing less than absolutely baffled.