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!

35. Chapter 35

"I won't tell the king who you are, or what you've done." Ewan said quietly, with his back to his little brother, and his eye's trained on the ground at his feet. But even after he said it, it didn't stop Ewan from feeling the guilt churn in his stomach.

Had he made the right choice? Or was he just setting himself up for something even more worse?

Valiant was considered a fugitive, after what he had done to Daniel. The only reason he hadn't been arrested on sight when he came to Camelot, was because nobody realized who he was.

The crest Valiant had given to the steward when he'd first arrived in Camelot looked just like his shield. Bright yellow, and with three deadly looking snakes painted on it. Nobody could have confused the new symbol with the royal purple that Ewan's family used, with the purple swirl design that Valiant should have been wearing...in a different life.

"I'm glad to hear that." Valiant said from somewhere behind him. Ewan shivered in disgust, because he could literally hear how slimy those words had sounded.

What would any of his brother's had done, if it had been them that had came face to face with Valiant after all these years? Would they have hesitated like Ewan was?

Valiant was still his little brother, was he being strong by trying to protect him, even after everything he'd done?

Or was he just to weak to do it?

All it would have take was one word from Ewan, and Valiant would have been arrested on the spot.

And maybe he really was just to much of a coward, because he refused to face his brother even as he said his next words, "You didn't show up after all these years to...make amends with the family, did you?"

He waited with baited breath, almost begging for Valiant to say that was why he'd come. That he was finally feeling remorse after being on his own for so many years, and that he was ready to come home. Then maybe Ewan wouldn't feel so guilty about allowing him to live.

"No." Valiant said simply. His hand was tucked behind his back, holding onto the dagger carefully tucked into his belt for safe keeping. He felt his finger's loosening around the handle, before withdrawing his hand away. He shouldn't have gone for it in the first place, he knew out of all of his brother's, that Ewan was the most soft hearted.

Ewan let out a shaky breath, he shouldn't be as surprised as he was. Valiant had always had an agenda, and it had never been a good thing for the family. "Then why are you here?" He asked, trying to sound calmer than he actually was. But the subtle shaking of his hands gave him away far to easily.

Ewan could practically hear the grin in Valiant's voice as he said, "Why is anybody here? All I'm interested in is winning the tournament."

Ewan couldn't stop the weak sounding chuckle from escaping his lips at that, "Are you still trying to prove something to yourself? Are you still trying to be the best?" That was the most vivid thing he could remember about Valiant. Even as a young child, and with all of the restrictions that his mother had him under, Valiant had an unhealthy mindset of always needing to be better than anybody else.

If anybody showed any aptitude for being skilled at something, Valiant would always claim that he could do it better. And there had only been few times where he hadn't been able to actually prove that he was better, and that had only been when their mother had deemed the activity itself as to dangerous for him to participate in.

Valiant didn't seem to upset about Ewan's words. If anything, he actually seemed as if he was amused. "Have you seen my competition? There's that knight Tristian, and that knight with the two hooked swords...you. I think I have this in the bag."

And Valiant had also already started working his magic on the king. And not the magical kind of magic, there were just some thing's that needed a more 'finesse' touch. And buttering up the king was one of them, one never did know when they would need someone as powerful as the king on their side.

"There's still the prince." Ewan said, finally gathering himself enough to turn around so that he was facing Valiant.

He wasn't even upset with the other man for trying to rile him up with his comment. Ewan figured this was just another ploy for Valiant, his way of trying to get Ewan even more upset than he already was. Their father's number one rule had always been to go into battle with a clear head, and the more upset or angry that somebody was, the more mistakes they made. Valiant may not had been able to participate in the actual sword training, but he had been made to sit there and listen in during the lectures.

"Did you see his fight today?" Ewan continued to talk. "And he has won this tournament before, several times in fact. I think he has a pretty good shot."

Valiant didn't seem all that concerned about it though, waving a dismissive hand. "Not against me, he doesn't." He said, sounding pretty damn confident in himself. "I already have the perfect strategy in mind for my fight against him."

Valiant was counting down the moments to when he could use his shield, the taste of victory practically on his tongue. He hadn't had the opportunity yet to call out his snakes, not since he did it with the shopkeeper he'd taken it from. His first opponent in the tournament had been ridiculously easy, so there had been no reason to use it. But patience was a virtue, and Valiant would wait until the perfect moment before he used the shield again.

"Strategy?" Ewan asked, a frown tugging deeply at his lips. "What kind of strategy?" He wasn't sure he liked the sound of that, but maybe he was just paranoid. Then again, didn't he have the right to be paranoid? His brother was a killer, and Ewan had to wonder if Daniel had been Valiant's first victim...or his last.

Valiant's lips curled upwards into a smirk, "Don't you worry about that. All you need to know is that it's an even better strategy than the one I used on...Daniel." He said the name meaningfully, as if he was trying to drag a reaction out of Ewan.

And a reaction it did cause, because Ewan flinched violently at the sound of their deceased brother's name. It just sounded so wrong, that name coming so casually from the one that had killed him.

"Don't say his name!" Ewan snarled. Valiant didn't have any right to say that name. Ewan felt his hands clenching at his side's, nearly shaking as it felt as if his sudden wave of grief was going to overwhelm him.

It felt as if he was losing Daniel all over again.

Valiant stepped forward, until he was in front of Ewan. And then he was bending forward, forcing Ewan to acknowledge that his little brother had actually grown in the years he'd been gone. He now towered over Ewan.

Valiant waited until Ewan raised his head high enough for their eyes to lock together. And only then did Valiant start to grin, an almost mocking and cruel looking grin that forced Ewan to realize something he should have realized years before Daniel's death had even happen.

There was something serious wrong in the head with Valiant.

And then Valiant was talking, saying the name very carefully, and more drawn out then he had before.

"Daniel."

His hot breath fanned out over Ewan's face, and all Ewan could do was watch with horror as Valiant stepped away. He was frozen, unable to comprehend just how somebody in his own family could be so cruel. To not only kill another member of their family, but to show no guilt over it (to even mock it).

With one last smirk, pleased that he had done enough damage to another one of his brother's-this time mental instead of physical-Valiant roughly knocked his shoulder again Ewan's as he walked passed him.

His amusement only lasted as long as it took to walk pass Ewan. Because after that, Valiant was already thinking about his shield, and just how sound his new strategy would be. He wasn't lying when he'd said it was a better strategy than what he had done for Daniel.

With Daniel, he had taken the more brute and forceful approach. He has cheated, but he'd made sure that he had killed Daniel very publicly. In such a way that his family would never be able to deny that it was an accident.

But he'd grown since then, he'd long since had learned that the best strategy's, were the ones that nobody even knew were happening. Like the prince, his strategy for destroying Arthur had needed to be a more subtle approach. Which was where the shield came in at. By the time he was done, not even the king would be able to deny that Arthur's death had been nothing more than a tragic accident caused by the heat of battle.

And who know's, maybe the event would be so 'traumatic' for Valiant, that the king would offer him something to 'alleviate' his sufferings.

Like the prince's pretty little consort. He could completely ruin the boy, before passing him on to other's for a spot of nightly entertainment, especially on those night's where Valiant found himself needing a little extra gold.

A guy had to make a little money somehow, when he didn't have his family's riches to back him up.

Valiant only stopped walking when he got to the end of the hallway. And he only stopped at all, because Ewan had finally spoken up.

"Why are you like this? What did we ever do to you?" Ewan stopped just long enough for him to take in a shaking breath. "What did Daniel ever do to you?" His voice nearly cracked as he said what-for a decade now-he had considered a forbidden name.

Valiant put a hand up on the wall beside him, turning his head just enough to look over his shoulder. Ewan was still standing on the far end of the hallway, with his back to Valiant's. The knight-clad in purple-had his shoulders hunched up closer towards his ears, and his head was ducked low. Valiant's eye's shot down to Ewan's hands, clenched tightly at his sides. They had gotten Valiant's attention only because of how much they were shaking.

Although rather they were shaking because of grief or rage, it was impossible for Valiant to tell.

Valiant held absolutely no remorse when he said, "Daniel got what he deserved." He didn't feel guilty when it had happened, and he refused to feel guilty now. There was no reason to be. It was alway's Daniel's fate to lose to him, he had just needed that one last push that had been his eighteenth birthday for him to go through with what he'd been thinking of doing for years before.

And the prince would be no different.

Valiant's word's finally seemed to be what Ewan needed to be shoved over the edge he'd been tethering on during their entire conversation.

Ewan whipped around to face him, his face looking almost crazed as he shouted, "I'll kill you, Valiant! I'll make sure that it's you on the ground before this tournament is over, just like it should have been you instead of Daniel!"

For a second, there was no expression on Valiant's face. There wasn't a spark or a flinch of emotion, it was just completely...blank. Ewan's chest was practically heaving with the exertion that his anger was causing him.

And staring at Valiant, Ewan thought that maybe, just maybe he had said the right thing. Maybe, he'd said the one thing that would finally unsettle Valiant.

But that was when Valiant started to grin, looking even more cruel than he had any other time because of how his face was now half hidden by the shadows caused by the wall.

"I'm looking forward to it."

And then Valiant was gone, disappearing around the corner of the hallway, as if he had never been there in the first place.

Ewan watched him go, feeling as if his breath was now caught in his throat.

X

Merlin found himself wandering through the castle. He had his hands tucked down deep into his pockets, and there was a scowl on his face as he stalked through the hallways.

He was still pissed as hell because of how Uther had all but called him a burden. But it was muted now, the cold air brushing against Merlin's overheated face calming his blind rage down into a deep irritation.

Merlin kicked at the cobblestone floors of the hallway, grumbling under his breath as he headed deeper and deeper inside of the castle. He didn't really know where he was going, but to be honest, he didn't really care where he was going to end up either.

He just knew that he was heading down, instead of up, going further and further away from his bedroom. He was just way to wired to get any sleep after his conversation with Uther anyway, so hopefully his power walk would stem off most of his hostile energy.

"Who does he think he is?" Merlin said, grumbling under his breath. "Telling me not to be a burden, as if I'm doing it on purpose. It's not like I was ever trained for any of this stuff, not like his stupid son is..."

Merlin wasn't a burden, and he was just gonna have to prove that. Even if he did find himself floundering half the time.

Merlin found himself kicking at the ground again, not caring if he looked like a petulant child. It wasn't as if anybody was going to see him. It was after midnight, and the castle was more dead than Merlin could remember ever seeing it. But then again, Merlin hadn't spent to much time wandering around the castle after he usually found himself in bed.

It was usually so lively, with people running in all directions for one thing or another.

He'd probably seen one guard or two stationed in the open doorways that would lead out of the castle. And maybe another guard that had been patrolling, but other than a nod in his direction, that guard hadn't bothered him.

Which was a good thing, because Merlin didn't think he'd be very pleasant company right now.

"And to think, not only does he want me to show I'm not a burden, he wants me to pretend to be a happy couple...with Arthur!" Merlin exclaimed this louder than he wanted to, kicking harshly at a stone that was in the middle of the floor.

He listened to the stone pinging off the walls as it disappeared somewhere further down the hall.

If the king thought that Merlin was going to play happy couple, then he had another thing coming! Arthur and him...they either were an actual couple, or they weren't. Merlin wasn't going to play this game of in-between, of hoping that his crush was recuperated only to find out Arthur was acting as to 'please his people.'

Like when Arthur had kissed him, if that prat ever kissed him again because it was expected of him and not because he wanted to, Merlin was liable to punch him.

And this time, he would make sure his punch actually hit the prat's smug face.

And he would also damn well make sure that Arthur knew what would happen if he tried to kiss him again. Because Merlin didn't care about sucking up to Uther, like Arthur appeared to be.

How desperate did somebody have to be to want to please their father, that they were willing to kiss somebody that they held no attraction to?

-

It was a question that Merlin would, even years from now, struggle with understanding. Until the day came that he would meet his own father...

-

"Merlin?"

Merlin's head jolted up-forcing the mental image of where he was strangling Arthur for trying to kiss him again for his father's approval-out of mind.

"Mary?" Merlin asked, frowning when he saw who had called out to him. Mary was the first serving girl he met when he was first brought to the castle. She had been the one to bring him to his room, and helped him a few times when he had gotten lost when he was still getting used to the place. The last time he'd stopped king enough to have an actual conversation with her her had actually been weeks ago, when he'd been talking to Gwen at his wedding reception, and Mary had been looking for a friend of hers...he wondered if she ever found that friend.

But no matter, because Mary was standing at the end of the hall, tucking a piece of wayward blonde hair back into the cloth she wore on her head to hold her hair back. And she was carrying what looked to be a dirty serving tray.

Somehow, Merlin had found himself outside the kitchen's.

"Sir Merlin, what on earth are you doing up so late?" Mary chastened, switching the dirty serving tray to her other arm to alleviate the weight. "Shouldn't you be resting? The tournament continues tomorrow, it's supposed to be more exciting than today, the champions still left are expecting to be cut in half when the next round commences."

Maybe Merlin should go on up to bed, and just put this day behind him and hope that the next one was better. But to be honest, he didn't really want to, not when his mind felt so achingly full.

His day had started off so good, when he had stolen Arthur's armor and then teased the prat into trying to impress him. And now it was ending on a sour note, and all because he knew that Arthur had only kissed him goodbye because his father wished him to. Just so they could be this...happy couple...that term was starting to make him sick.

He decided to stick around, and talk to Mary.

"I could ask you the same question." Merlin was, walking down the hallway so that he wasn't practically screaming for Mary to be able to hear him. "Are the kitchens usually still operating so late?"

It seemed kind of strange, for people who had worked in the kitchens all day to still be there. But now that he was standing outside the kitchen doors, he could definitely hear a light rumbling going on inside.

Mary grinned, as if the answer to his question should have been obvious, "It's the kitchens, we don't exactly get the chance to close up shop. With so many people in the castle at any given time, it's necessary for us to stay. Although," she stopped to think. "Most of the day shift has already returned to their homes. It's just the night shift now, and that's only a few girl's compared to how many is working in the day. I think I'm the only day shift that is still here, but I like to keep myself busy and help out where I can, so I usually stay longer than most of the girl's. Well, except for Madame Clara, of course-but that's no surprise. Some girl's have this theory that she lives in the kitchens, she never leaves it. And I've never seen her outside of it either-"

Mary cut herself off, as if she was just now realizing that she was starting to ramble. And she almost looked horrified by that, her cheeks growing flustered.

"Oh! I'm so sorry! I'm sure you're not interested in the going on's around the kitchens..."

"No, no." Merlin interrupted, before she could go off on another rambling rant. "It's fine, really, honest." And maybe Merlin was just eager to forget about the awkward conversation with Uther, or maybe he was just ready to start proving to himself that he wasn't a burden, because the next thing he said was, "Besides, isn't this something that a consort does. They...fuck, it's something with the kitchens..." Merlin grumbled, bringing a hand up to rub at his aching forehead.

It seemed like so long ago, and it had only been a brief statement, but Merlin was sure that someone at some point had told him that a consort had some kind of dealings with the kitchen. But what it was, was starting to drive him mad. He'd probably had other thing's on his mind when it had been said, but that wasn't an excuse.

If he wasn't going to be a burden, then these were the thing's that he was supposed to know.

Mary looked at him uncertain, "Well, consorts in the past from what I've heard, do often decide the menu for important events. The next big event is the champion's dinner, where the winner's of the next round have dinner with the king. If you would like, I can work with you if you wish to change the menu, although it is short notice..."

"That's right!" He exclaimed. He remembered now, making a joke about how he should have nothing more than bread and water served to those prissy nobles. "The consort helps decide the...menu..." Merlin trailed off, feeling his shoulder's slumping. Uther had told him not to be a burden, but he didn't see how deciding what these rich people ate, was going to help him not to be one. Was this really his life now? Did all a consort do was...help their husband into their armor, and decide what victory meals they were going to eat.

Was that what his life was now?

It sounded kind of depressing, and not the kind of life he wanted to lead. He wanted to actually do...something! With his life! He wanted to be of use and to actually help out, but with what, he didn't know. He just knew that he didn't want to sit around this castle acting as if he had a clue about what he was doing.

Mary seemed to notice his drop in mood, and frowned at him as a flash of concern showed up on her face, "You seem like you have something on your mind." It wasn't a question, Mary was just simply stating what was an obvious fact.

Merlin almost laughed, because that was the understatement of the century. "You could say that." And he let a weary looking smile creep across his lips.

Mary's frown deepened, "I know that it may be a little...unorthodox...for a consort to tell his troubles to a mere serving girl. But if you did want to tell me what's on your mind, I may not be of much help. But I have been told that I'm a great listener."

If the consort had been anyone other then Merlin, Mary probably would have never dared to utter those words. Not when there was a chance that she could be punished, for having the audacity to suggest that a serving girl could help out in any way to a royal problem.

But their consort happened to be Merlin. The same boy that thanked her when she showed him around the castle. And the same boy who had kept his word and didn't spread around that she had been caught 'having some private time' with a knight in one of the many storerooms.

Her reputation would have been trashed if people knew she wasn't a virgin, and had yet to marry. She would have been considered 'loose' and 'ruined'. Even if peasants weren't nearly as strict about their virtue like the nobles were, there were still some circles that would have no problem shunning somebody that was 'unclean.'

Merlin didn't seem the least bit upset about her suggestion. He even let the briefest hint of a cheeky grin show on his face, "No more unorthodox than a peasant boy marrying a prince."

Mary grinned, because really, he did have a point. If they lived in a world where Merlin (who had came from nothing) could be married to the heir of Camelot (who'd practically had everything in life given to him) then who could say a serving girl couldn't offer said consort a listening ear.

"But," Merlin started, looking at the large serving tray that she had been carrying into the kitchens before he had come across her minutes before. "If you have somewhere to be..."

Mary looked down at the serving tray in her hands, and then back up at Merlin. After a moment, where Merlin thought Mary was about to turn tail and run off onto the kitchens, she suddenly scoffed. And then waved a dismissive hand at him.

"Nah, they can hold down the fort without me for a few minutes. All I have are a few dirty dishes to take care of, and they can wait a little bit. Besides, nobody is going to fault me for stopping to talk to our consort."

Merlin smiled wearily, because there it was again, that word...consort. Would Merlin ever connect with it? Would he ever be able to confidently say he's the consort of Camelot, husband to Prince Arthur...he didn't think there would ever come a day that he would be able to say it so boldly. And sure, he could say he was a consort...but saying it and actually feeling as if he was the consort of Camelot, were clearly two very different things, as he was coming to find out.

"Here, why don't we sit." Mary suggested, moving the serving tray under her arm and using her other hand to gesture to the wall.

"Sit? Wher..." Merlin stopped, just now noticing the pristine wooden bench that was situated just off to the side of the kitchen doors. "...How did I miss that?" He was probably losing it, that could be the only explanation he could think of for how he didn't see a bench right in front of him. Or maybe he really did have way to many things on his mind, and it was 'literally' causing him to lose sight of the things right in front of him.

Mary didn't seem to surprised about this, letting out a soft giggle that almost sounded like a bell disappearing into the soft airy breeze that was going through the opened halls of the kingdom.

"You'll be surprised. It's such a nice bench, but it rarely gets used. Other then our lunch break, we don't get much of an opportunity to sit. And even then, most people take their breaks in the kitchen so that we can jump in if we start falling behind."

That didn't sound like much of a break to Merlin, but he just nodded, "I know how that is." Back in Ealdor, he'd often found himself sitting off to the sidelines to enjoy his small and meager lunch. Some things were just unavoidable, and there had been plenty of times that he'd have to forget about lunch altogether.

"Plus," Mary chimed in again, looking cheerful as she commented. "The wood is practically the same color as the stone wall. So it's hard to see it's even there when it's so late at night, even with the torches." She nodded to the wall where there was a single torch situated in between the kitchen door and the bench itself.

And she wasn't lying either. The wood and the stone were an eerily similar color.

"...I guess they were trying to go for aesthetically pleasing." Merlin said dryly, dropping down onto the bench with a heavy thud. Sighing, he leaned forward so that his elbows were balanced on his knees, and his hands were entwined together between them.

It had been a very, very long day. And while most people probably would have dropped only when they had reached their bed so that they could forget about it, Merlin knew that all he would have been doing was tossing and turning for hours on end. No, the best thing he could have done was gone somewhere where he could sit and take a moment to breathe.

He had always found that the best way to work through his thoughts, was just taking a seat and staring off until he came to a solution for whatever problem it was that he was facing.

Only, he'd never had a problem like what he was facing now. So he was kind of floundering on his own, and not even Arthur was any help, practically falling all over himself to play whatever game Uther was playing.

"So, have you been enjoying it, the tournament I mean." Mary's voice brought Merlin's thoughts to an abrupt halt, and he had no choice but to turn and look at her with a baffled expression.

"I'm sorry...what?" He asked, when Mary didn't say anything else to elaborate on that. Weren't they supposed to be talking about Merlin's issues, not about the tournament. Which to be honest, the tournament itself was the least of Merlin's problem's. He was more concerned about the people involved in it.

Uther...

Arthur...

Valiant...

Mary just shrugged, "I hear that sometimes, talking about something else can actually make your problems feel less troubling. And since this week is the tournament, I just thought I'd ask if you were enjoying it. Or if there were anything that us servants could do that would make it more enjoyable..."

Merlin wanted to point out that this made absolutely no sense. And that Mary should probably stop talking to whoever had told her that. It wasn't like talking about the tournament was going to help him on how to be a better consort, while not losing himself along the way. Or how to make the people happy, without pretending he and Arthur were in love. Or even how he could fast forward this tournament so that Valiant would be on his way, and Merlin wouldn't have to deal with him anymore.

But whatever, at this point, he was almost willing to try anything. It wasn't as if talking about the tournament was going to hurt him more than his growing headache was.

"The tournament has definitely been...a whirlwind, since it's started." Merlin said, his tone heavier than he wanted it to be. Even as he said those words though, he knew that it wasn't the tournament that had been the whirlwind.

It had been Arthur.

The prince had avoided him for two weeks after they got married, and he'd caused nothing but trouble for Merlin ever since. With the practice training...and then Merlin stealing Arthur's armor...before putting it on...and then the tournament itself where Merlin had watched Arthur fight...and then Arthur had defended him against that knight in the knight's quarters of the stadium but only because he had to...and then Arthur running off terrified because of-(he still didn't know)...not to mention Arthur accusing him of flirting with Valiant only to kiss his ring because of his father...which wasn't romantic in the least.

Fuck, was there anything Arthur hadn't done to completely mess him up?

Merlin, in his frustrations, brought his hands up to rub roughly through his thick hair, remembering Arthur's voice in his ears about how he had 'never seen a brush in his life'. And if that made Merlin mess it up even worse than usual just because he knew that it would annoy Arthur, well, nobody had to know but him.

"Is it the prince?" Mary suddenly asked him, having been staring at him and watching the obvious frustration in his body language. Her finger's were toying with the edges of the silver serving tray sitting in her lap.

"When is it ever not?" Merlin grumbled, half to himself, before Mary's word's had actually caught up with him. His head whipped around so that he could look at her with a raised eyebrow. "How'd you guess that?"

Merlin knew that he was a horrible liar, and he had no idea how he had gotten this far in life with his magic under wraps. But was he really so bad that somebody could see the problems he was facing by just looking at him? Maybe not the actual details, but the problem itself was just as huge as the details were.

"Well," Mary said simply. "The only time I ever see a face like that, is when one of the girl's find out that their courtship isn't going to plan."

Merlin sighed at that, feeling even more miserable, bringing his hand back up to scratch roughly through his bangs, "I don't even want to think about Arthur, or courtships right now."

Because at least those girl's were having the chance to have a courtship. He and Arthur hadn't gotten anything like that, the only reason they'd met before they married at all, was because Merlin had decided to check out the castle.

"Did you two have a fight?" Mary asked him, apparently not taking heed of Merlin's earlier words.

Merlin scoffed, raising his head out of his hand, "No, but we sure are about to." He knew that the next time he saw Arthur, he would have no choice but to tell him about the conversation he'd had with his father. He didn't care if Arthur probably didn't see anything wrong with pretending they were happy in front of the people, Merlin was going to make sure that prat knew exactly what his thoughts on this situation was.

And knowing them, it would probably escalate into a fight.

"Awww, did he do something wrong?" Mary asked, looking as if she seriously felt sorry for him. And Merlin, looking at her now with a contemplative expression. was just so tempted to just come clean. To tell her that there was no reason to feel sorry because their marriage was nothing more than a charade.

But he didn't, and not because he was scared of whatever Uther would do to him if he found out that he had spilled the beans not minutes after their conversation. He just didn't want to be known as the boy who was essentially a prisoner.

He couldn't go home, he couldn't practice his magic freely (not that he really could much at home outside his hut but still), and he was stuck with a prat who was as much as a prisoner as he was (who acted as if he wasn't just as aware of their prisoner status as he was).

Merlin gave Mary a small grin, trying not to show her just how miserable he was with all of this, "I'm honestly finding it hard to find something that he hasn't done wrong."

Had Arthur actually done anything right since the day they met? ...Maybe that time when he had sat down and rested with Merlin just so he could have a break when Arthur had been showing Merlin a few moves. But then again, that practice session hasn't exactly ended up on a good note either.

Mary sighed, actually daring to reach out to push lightly on Merlin's shoulder (more like a friend instead of how a consort should have been treated), "Oh, I'm sure everything will work out."

Merlin glanced back over at her with a dubious expression, "And how are you so sure about that?" Because Merlin wasn't sure about anything. He had always found himself floundering in one way or the other back in Ealdor, his mother had used to claim that it was just his personality, because he hadn't found his way yet. But he had been floundering more in his short time here in Camelot, then he had ever in his entire life back in Ealdor.

"Of course!" Mary encouraged. "Whatever problems you and the prince are having, I'm sure it's nothing that can't be fixed."

Merlin found himself scoffing, if only it was as easily done as it was said.

Mary gave an excited gasp, nearly startling Merlin because of it, but she just waved her hand, "Maybe you and him just need to have a little date night. Something private so that you could work our your problems. We can have dinner brought up to your rooms for tomorrow, what do you think the prince would like for his evening meal? Should we go elaborate, or would something small be better?"

Merlin ignored all of her questions, to busy looking at her with boggled eyes. "A-a date night?" He stuttered, looking extremely put out by this. He'd never had a date night before, not with anybody. And his palms started to sweat at the thought of having one with Arthur.

But no, he had to shake those thoughts out of mind. Even if Arthur and him did have a private dinner together, it couldn't really be considered 'a date night'. Mary may be excited for him at the thought, but she also wasn't aware of just what their problems were.

"Yes! You and Arthur could talk, maybe re-spark the romance in your marriage. You probably haven't had much time for dates since you married, with everything going on!" Mary exclaimed.

It took Merlin a minute to realize what she was talking about, and maybe trying to get some advice out of somebody who didn't know the full situation hadn't been his smartest plan. How was he supposed to re-spark a romance, when there has never even been any romance to begin with?

"Uh, Arthur's never been the...date night kind of guy..." Merlin trailed off awkwardly when he realized that Mary was starting to stare at him. How was he supposed to know if Arthur was the kind of guy that would enjoy a standard 'date night'. And even if he was, he probably wouldn't be up for enjoying it when the other party was Merlin.

"Nonsense!" Mary protested, ever the optimist. "You and the prince have just been married! I'm sure he'll appreciate any effort you put into having a romantic night!"

"...I'm pretty sure any effort to be put into should be on his part." Merlin said dryly, his eye's half lidded. But he also wasn't holding his breath. Arthur seemed as if he was the 'emotionally constipated' type. Besides, it wasn't like he thought Arthur would put any effort into anything between them if his father didn't command it.

At that reminder, Merlin's expression turned sullen. Hell, the only reason Arthur had stopped avoiding him after they were married was because his father had commanded he do something with Merlin. Which was what had led to that stupid training session in the first place.

"I'm not sure how any of you're date nights have gone previously-" Mary started, and Merlin almost wanted to start screaming that no, they had never had a date night. That they'd only known each other for a few weeks, and so far, Arthur hadn't shown him any inclination that he even liked him as a friend, let alone as a partner for life. "But I really do think that a date night would be the best way to go. And since you're already here, what should we have brought up to you for tomorrow night. Do you think the prince will want roast duck, or maybe a nice chicken linguine?"

Merlin almost forgot that he had absolutely no intention of going through with a 'date night', distracted as he was by the last words of her sentence.

"...A what now?" Merlin asked, looking baffled. He knew what roast duck was, it had been a part of his dinner a few days ago and it had honestly tasted so delicious. It wasn't exactly something that could be made in Ealdor, not only because of their lack of ducks but also because they didn't have the right spices that had been used on it. But a...chicken linguine? He recognized the chicken part, but the linguine part threw him off completely.

"Chicken linguine?" Mary asked excitedly. "Oh, it's absolutely delicious!" The servants didn't really get the opportunity to eat such an expensive and well prepared meal, that was usually reserved just for the nobles. But the nobles often left so many plates untouched, so after the servants cleaned up, it wasn't uncommon for them to dig into the leftovers for their own dinner. Not only did it save them their coin from having to buy their own food in the marketplace to prepare at home, but it was far better tasting then any serving person would have been able to do with the limited cooking equipment or spices available in their own homes. "Chicken linguine is-"

Mary went off on a tirade, patiently explaining exactly what chicken linguine was, showing off her knowledge by bringing up the intense skill that it took to make it to absolute perfection.

Merlin though, had drifted off as soon as she started talking. Not because he wasn't interested in tasting this 'chicken linguine', but because he was honestly trying to figure out how to get out of this. He was not-under any circumstances-going to be planning a date night for Arthur, especially when he knew that it would probably just go under appreciated. He and Arthur...they were not at a 'date night' level. Hell, at this point, they weren't even at 'having a civilized conversation' level.

It was only as Mary started talking about the finer details of this...chicken linguine dish, going into far more detail than she actually needed to, Merlin found that the only way to get her to stop trying to start 'a date night' would be to just straight up tell her this this wasn't working for him.

"No, no, no. I don't think this is going to be happening." Merlin interrupted, which was pretty much the only way he could get her to stop talking. Anything to stop her, before she actually started planning this date night for him. Arthur would kill him if he found Merlin with a 'romantic dinner' all set up and waiting for them.

Mary cut herself off abruptly, frowning deeply. "What do you mean? Are your problems so bad that you can't even have a meal together..." and now she actually looked concerned about this.

"No! It's-it's not that..." Merlin stuttered awkwardly, frantically searching his mind for what the right response would be. He couldn't exactly tell her that a date night was out of the question, and that yes, the problems between him and Arthur were far to much to be fixed with a simple conversation over a nice dinner together.

If only it was that easy.

Merlin's eyes darted all around before he could think of a suitable excuse as for why he and Arthur couldn't have dinner together, which they actually haven't done since their wedding. Which he wasn't counting, since it had got interrupted by that witch.

Besides, this whole thing sounded to much like what Uther wanted them to do, by 'being happy' in front of the people for his taste. Especially if this 'dinner' took place in one of the more public rooms of the castle.

"We can't have dinner together because..." Merlin trailed off awkwardly. "Tomorrow night!" He blurted out, and Mary looked at him baffled. Merlin smiled sheepishly, clearing his throat awkwardly, "You said that tomorrow night was when all of the champions are having their dinner with the king, so-" he stopped himself short. "Wait, does that mean I'm having dinner with the king tomorrow night?"

After his conversation with Uther, the next time he saw him would be far to soon. He had calmed down since he started his walk, which somehow ended with him at the kitchens on practically the other side of the castle, but he still felt a residue of anger over the king's insinuation that he was a burden. He didn't think he'd be able to hold his tongue if he was sitting at a dinner table with him.

"No, you won't be." Mary said, waving her hand at him. "The dinner is only for the next round of champions, so that the king can have more time to interact with them. You and Lady Morgana won't be in attendance. It's for the winners only. Not even the prince would have been invited if he wasn't a champion himself."

Merlin felt himself relaxing at that. At least he wouldn't have to sit through an increasingly awkward dinner, the meet and greet itself had been bad enough. Maybe tomorrow night, he could actually spend a night doing whatever it was that he wanted to do.

"Good, and since Arthur has a good chance of winning the next rounds, that means he won't be available for dinner with me." Merlin said, relieved that he actually had a pretty damn excuse to get out of this. As mad as he was at Arthur (because he had the nerve to kiss him under his father's command when it was now clear to Merlin that he actually hadn't wanted to) even he could admit that him being mad didn't have anything on Arthur's skill with a blade. So he was actually pretty confident that Arthur would probably win, which would give him a free night away from the prat.

Mary almost looked disappointed by this, apparently not realizing that she had been the only one excited about it. "You're right, Prince Arthur will surely win the next rounds, so tomorrow night would be out of the question." She stopped to look at him again. "But maybe we can get something prepared for another eveni-"

"No!" Merlin interrupted quickly, before this sparked another back and forth conversation where Mary tried to convince him that a date night was a perfectly acceptable activity to have between a married couple.

Maybe if they were a normal couple, and not one forced together by circumstances that were completely out of their control.

Mary looked startled by his sudden exclamation, straightening up in her seat. And now Merlin found himself wincing, admitting to himself that he had probably sounded shorter than he meant to.

So he cleared his throat, frantically searching his mind for the best thing to say, "Arthur and I aren't really a...date night kind of couple." Merlin found himself scowling about that, because he honestly wouldn't have minded having a few dates under their belts. But he didn't think that Arthur would recuperate the idea

Mary was frowning at him, "Then how do you show your affections for each other!" As if she couldn't contemplate a relationship where a couple didn't go out of their way to make sure that they had dinner together.

Merlin stared at her, feeling his eye start to twitch. How did he always find himself in these random conversations? And what were up with people wanting him to 'show his affections' to Arthur? Nobody was bugging Arthur to show Merlin 'his affections.' Well except for Uther, but he had his own agenda for everything.

"We show our affections in...other ways..." Merlin stuttered, feeling the flush start building up on his face. Crap, he was not wording this right. "We do little things for each other...to show we care..."

"Like what?" Mary asked, blinking innocently at him.

Merlin felt his words dying in his throat. Fuck, what was he doing? Here he was, pretending that he and Arthur actually had a relationship just so he could stop Mary from planning their date night. Wasn't this the exact opposite of what he wanted to do? Pretending that he and Arthur were something special, when they just...weren't.

But still, Merlin couldn't stop his lips from forming the words, "We..." he trailed off, glancing away from Mary. Why was it just so hard to admit that he and Arthur didn't have the kind of relationship that other couples who actually loved each other did? Why did he feel this humiliating burn across the bridge of his nose, which was probably the only thing that was stopping him from blurting out the one thing that Uther had all but forbidden him to talk about...the contract. "We..." Merlin tried again, trying to force himself to think of something small that somebody might do to show somebody else that they cared. But he found himself floundering, because really, what 'did' normal people do when they were trying to show somebody they liked them.

A thought struck him out of nowhere, and a slow smirk started to spread across his lips. The thought that had just hit him...it would be absolutely perfect. And he wondered if there would be any way for him to sneak into the dinner tomorrow night just to see Arthur's reaction.

Mary seemed to realize he had thought of something, probably from the almost devious expression his face had just over gone, and she leaned forward with an almost curious expression, "What? What do you do?"

It was almost fascinating to her, getting what she thought was an inside look into the relationship between their prince and his consort.

Merlin had to make sure that he got this right first though, "You said that the consort usually decides the menu for these big event type things, right? Like the dinner that's happening tomorrow night?"

Merlin wasn't above using his new found position as consort to mess with Arthur. And he felt no guilt once so ever, thinking of it almost as a sort of revenge scheme, for Arthur making him so flustered when he'd kissed his ring. For only doing it because Uther wanted them to 'appease' the people.

Mary frowned, not sure where Merlin was going with this, or what this had to do with Arthur, "...Yes..." she said, sounding uncertain. "But what does that have to do with-"

"I'll get there in a minute." Merlin said, waving an urgent hand before they could get off track. "Could I do that with tomorrow's dinner? But only for Arthur's. Whatever is planned for everybody else will be fine, but I want to have something different prepared for Arthur."

"Oh, of course we could do that!" Mary said, eagerly, as she readjusted her skirts. Maybe Merlin wanted to give the prince something special, just something small to let the prince know that his consort was thinking about him. "Is there something special that you have in mind? Or would you like for me to make a few suggestions...?"

"No, no. I already know exactly what he should have."

And maybe it was the way Merlin's devious grin started to grow, that caused Mary to frown uncertainly. But Merlin didn't say anything about her clear confusion. He just leaned forward, as if he thought somebody might overhear, before whispering in her ear exactly what he wanted.

Mary's eyes went wide as she listened to Merlin's description of exactly what the prince's dinner tomorrow would entail. She nearly wrenched her head away, looking at Merlin with wide eye's full of disbelief.

"That's how you show the prince affection!" Mary exclaimed, almost forgetting herself in the moment. She was almost embarrassed to bring this up to Madame Clara, because it was such an outrageous idea. For them to actually bring the prince...such a meal...especially during what was such an important dinner.

Merlin just grinned cheekily at her outlandish expression, "That's exactly how I show Arthur what I'm thinking about him."

Mary looked at him, this time it was her turn to stare at him with boggled eyes, "...The prince really messed up, didn't he?" It was the only explanation she could think of for such a ridiculous order.

"Oh, he did, big time." Merlin answered, nodding his head with an almost solemn expression. Even if Arthur didn't know it yet, even if he didn't know that Merlin was pissed because he'd kissed him even when he didn't want to, he would definitely know when Merlin brought it up the next time he saw him. And if Merlin's obvious complaints weren't enough, then Arthur's dinner tomorrow night would surely drill the message in.

Mary was still looking at Merlin with uncertain eyes, as if she wasn't entirely sure if he was just joking with her or not. But from the expression on Merlin's face, it was clear that he was being completely serious.

"Um...alright..." Mary trailed off, not even sure if Madame Clara would believe her when she brought her the consort's order. "I'll be...sure to let the kitchens know so they'll bring it out for him."

Merlin nodded, feeling a bubble of amusement growing in his stomach. It was such a sharp contrast compared to what he had been feeling before he had come across Mary. Arthur was probably going to kill him afterwards, when he realized that it was Merlin's doing, but at the same time, he couldn't bring himself to care.

It would serve that arse right, watching all of his comrades eating this elaborate food prepared by the kitchen, and then he was given an entirely different meal.

Mary stood, brushing her skirts into place and sliding the serving tray that had been resting across her lap under his arm. "Was there anything else you wanted to talk about, Sir Merlin? Or should I go ahead and bring your order to the kitchens?"

Merlin wanted to point out that he hadn't wanted this conversation in the first place. He had just been sitting down so that he could try and work through his conversation with Uther. It was her, that had nearly made him forget what he had been mad at in the first place.

But now, everything he'd been mad about earlier was starting to flood straight back to him...

Uther accusing him of being a burden.

Uther all but threatening him to keep his silence about the contract.

Uther trying to force him into a 'happy couple' with Arthur.

And Arthur kissing him because of his father's command.

Maybe his problem wasn't with Arthur after all. Maybe it was Uther that he should be putting all of his energy into being pissed off at...and then he stopped to think about all of the things Arthur had done to him since they'd met.

No, he was justified in being pissed at Arthur to.

"Sir Merlin...?" Mary's voice brought him out of his thoughts, jolting Merlin back into their conversation. That's right, Mary had asked him a question, and it took him a second to remember what that question had been.

He supposed he could have asked her about Uther, if he was always such a prick. Or if it was just Merlin that was bringing it out in him.

But no, their conversation hadn't ended on a bad note. And Merlin had gotten something out of it as well, with Arthur's new dinner arrangement tomorrow night in the works. If he brought up Uther now, things would turn real sour real quick. Plus, did he really want to bring Mary down by having her listen to what was actually troubling him?

Turning sheepish, Merlin looked at Mary with a half-crooked grin, "No, there's nothing else."

As easy as it was to talk to Mary-or awkward considering their most recent topic of discussion-there were just some things that were probably best kept to himself. And even if he did bring it up, how was even to begin explaining Uther's attitude towards him to her.

This was way more complicated than he thought it would be. But with everyone so completely convinced that Uther had been the one to bless their marriage, with everyone thinking he and Arthur had some kind of fairy tale romance, it would have been near impossible to explain. The only way that any of this would have made sense to her, was for Merlin to explain the contract, and then she (and possibly others if she talked) would know that he hadn't come here on his own free will.

Somebody else would know that he was a prisoner in a glided cage.

And that was one thing Merlin refused to admit that he was.

Even to Mary.

"Alright then, Sir Merlin." Mary said, giving him a little curtsy. Merlin watched her wearily, and didn't even bother to complain about it, or to try asking her to stop. There was really no point in it, people were going to do things they wanted to do-or in this case-probably trained to do when addressing the Royal Family. There were only so many times that he could complain about it (as he had done multiple times his first week in the city) before he just stopped wasting his breath.

Mary took a step backwards, her skirts whirling around her ankles and her serving tray held carefully in her hands, and was prepared to retreat back into the kitchens.

She'd barely gotten two steps away before the kitchen door swung open-hard-with enough force that it hit the opposing wall with a loud thud. Mary squeaked and jolted backwards in her alarm, nearly losing her serving tray as well. Merlin jolted to his feet, looking just as startled as Mary had been.

Neither suspected what was about to occur.

"Mary!" The large woman scurried out of the kitchen, her dull brown peasant dress covered in food stains from throughout the day. "I thought I heard you out here, young lady." Madame Clara looked absolutely furious about having to come out here to fetch the wayward girl on her own. "While you are out here having a good old time, my other girl's are scrubbing their hands to the bone! If you want to work extra hours, then you need to actually be in here working! And not wasting my valuable time by having to track you down!"

She was practically bellowing at that point, her red face practically pouring sweat because of how hot the kitchens were, the hot air practically pouring out into the opened hallway.

Mary didn't say a word to defend herself. She just bowed her head, taking her lecture like a woman.

Merlin recognized Madame Clara instantly, it was the same cook that had thrown him out when he had first came here. He'd stumbled across the kitchens when he'd been trying to find his uncle's, and had gone in hoping he could ask someone for directions. He had been promptly tossed out by the head of the kitchens.

Merlin stepped in front of the sniveling serving girl, holding out his hands in a placation gesture. "Hold on! She's gonna get back to work, she just stopped for a minute to talk to me. She wasn't leaving you empty handed or anything."

If anything, his interruption just made Madame Clara even more irate than before. She glowered down at him, her dark eye's burning into his own as the recognition struck her, "You!" She snapped. Merlin reeled back, almost startled by this sudden outcry. "You were the boy that snuck into my kitchen weeks ago!"

Merlin stared at her blankly, trying to wrap his mind around that. That...that was where she recognized him from? When he'd walked in trying to find somebody because he had needed directions.

"Madame Clara!" Mary exclaimed, poking her head from around Merlin's shoulder. "You really shouldn't be talking to him like that!" She said almost frantically, as if she thought 'Merlin' was going to have the woman punished for her disrespect.

"I'll talk to someone who disrupts my girl's anyway I want to!" Madame Clara exploded, doing absolutely nothing to hide the loudness of her voice, even during this late hour. Merlin supposed that it was probably for a good reason that none of the bedrooms were so close to the kitchens.

"But I wasn't trying to disrupt anyone!" Merlin found himself protesting, ignoring the thought that it was clear that Madame Clara didn't realize who he was either. Just like the knight in the stadium that had wanted to attack him before Arthur had intervened, or even Valiant when they had first met. "And I wasn't sneaking into your kitchens that time either! I was just looking for directions!"

"A likely story!" Madame Clara exclaimed, looking as if she was throwing all of her weight around, trying to look bigger than she already was.

Mary was growing red in the face, looking as if she couldn't believe that this was really happening. But as there was nothing she could do to dissuade Madame Clara's anger, she turned to Merlin instead, her nails practically digging into the serving tray. "I am so sorry about this! She never leaves the kitchens! So unless you look like somebody important, she thinks you're one of us." Mary seemed to flush even more at that, as if she thought she'd just insulted Merlin. "Not that you are! I just mean, you're not wearing ornate robes or anything that would mark your status..."

"Status?" Madame Clara echoed, turning her irate attention back to Mary. "Stop being silly, girl! This boy has no status!" And then she was turning back to Merlin. "You! Have you been feeding lies to my girls! Just like the lies you told about why you were in my kitchens!"

"I wasn't lying!" Merlin exclaimed, frustrated. In another time or place, he probably would have been pleased that he hadn't been recognized as the consort. That even with his new status, not as much as he had thought had changed, and he could still blend in easily with the common folk. But it seemed that the only people who didn't recognize him as consort, were the ones that wanted to yell at him. "I mean, it's not like I went in there in the first place to steal your crab puffs." And when that just seemed to make Madame Clara more angry, he started exclaiming in a rushed tone, "And I haven't lied to Mary at all! She's actually a good friend of mine!"

At his side, Mary looked absolutely scandalized by this, bringing a hand up to rest on her chest. To be a serving girl, and yet considered a friend to a royal family member...it wasn't something that many people-if any-ever got to say.

Madame Clara didn't seem to pleased by his declaration, "If you are such good friends with one of my girl's, then you should know better than to distract them! There is work to be done around here!"

"I got it, I got it." Merlin grumbled, holding his hands back up as he took a step back. "I'll just go, and we can all just pretend that this never happened."

Just standing here and being yelled at by the head of the kitchens wasn't exactly his version of a good time. Especially when he had done nothing to deserve her irate attentions.

"No!" Mary exclaimed, looking panicked. "You don't have to go! Madame Clara just doesn't know who you are! I'm sure she'll be very sorry..."

But she sounded uncertain. Madame Clara was one of the few women in the entire kingdom that was brave enough to go against royalty. But that had only ever extended to Arthur, and only when he had been a small child who'd tried sneaking in for extra sweets. It had been a long time since Arthur had gone anywhere near the kitchens though.

"It's fine, I have other things to do anyway." Merlin said dismissively. But he didn't, not really. But anywhere would be better than right here right now.

Merlin had just taken another step backwards, passing the torchlight on the wall while Madame Clara watched him go with suspicious looking eyes-as if she thought he was going to rush pass her and snatch up one of the kitchen goods inside-when the head of the kitchens suddenly gave a loud and horrified gasp.

You would have thought that she had just witnessed somebody using a stone to brutally murder a kitten. And it caused both Mary and Merlin to freeze-Mary looking near tears at whatever was about to accrue, and Merlin just looking baffled.

"Yo-yo-you thief!" Madame Clara bellowed, hurrying after him as if she thought he was going to make a break for it. And then she was grabbing him by his shoulder's, roughly shaking him. "Who do you work for? Who is your master, boy! I will see that you are justly punished for what you have done!"

"Madame Clara, no!" Mary wailed, looking like she was seconds from bursting into a river of tears. But her screaming went largely ignored.

"What are you talking about!" Merlin exclaimed, trying to wrench himself free. But Madame Clara practically had her nails digging into his shoulder blades.

"You know what, you little thief!" Madame Clara wailed, snatching up his wrist in a death grip. And no matter how hard Merlin yanked, she refused to let go, dragging his hand up towards the torch. At first, Merlin thought the woman was seriously trying to burn him by pushing his hand against the hot flames. But no, she was just using the torchlight to get a better view. "Who did you steal this from!" Madame Clara was shouting again, her voice echoing in his ears.

And Merlin stared in disbelief, his eyes boggling out as he looked at his wedding ring. The torchlight reflected off of the glittering jewel, the expensive metal obvious even in the dimness of the light.

"Did you really think that you could get away with thieving, boy!" Madame Clara sneered, practically shaking him with the force of her anger.

"B-but it's mine!" Merlin exclaimed, looking at her in disbelief. It was one thing to not be recognized as the consort, it was quite another thing to be accused of stealing his own ring.

"Do you take me for a fool, boy!" Madame Clara shouted, jerking him like a rag doll.

"Madame Clara, please!" Mary was wailing somewhere in the background, looking around frantically. She couldn't run to the kitchen for help, nobody would dare to lift a finger against Madame Clara when she was in one of her tirades. And there was no guard in sight who could have shown up and stopped this tragedy from happening.

"Let go of me!" Merlin shouted, trying to jerk his hand free. "This ring was given to me! I didn't take it from anybody!" He didn't care if Arthur was still a prat, he didn't care if he was still pissed at him, he still felt strangely protective over the rounded metal. Even if it was nothing he would have picked out for himself, even if he did have the gold to afford it.

Madame Clara just scoffed at him, "You! Unless you're some kind of whore, nobody would give a ring like this to somebody like you! Only the highest of nobles could afford a ring like this, yet along just giving it to a serving boy!"

Merlin had froze the second the word 'whore' had left her lips. Whore...how could anybody claim that Merlin was a whore? Him, who hasn't even had a proper kiss in his entire life, who's husband refused to give him a proper kiss.

Somewhere behind them, Mary had gasped as well, looking as if she were about to faint from this term.

Madame Clara took this opportunity to drag Merlin's arm under her own, trying to lock him into place so that she could work the ring off his finger. She would just have to take the ring off herself and give it to the proper authorities so that they could return it to the rightful owner.

Feeling the ring start to slide down his finger was enough to jumpstart Merlin. His hand reflectively closed, clenching into a fist so that the ring couldn't slide past his first knuckle.

"Open up!" Madame Clara exclaimed, trying to force his fingers open so that she could get the ring off.

"Like hell!" Merlin exclaimed, his eye's flashing. It would have been so easy to just open his hand and let Madame Clara slide it off his finger. How long would it take for the guards to realize the ring was one half of the Royal Wedding Rings? How long would it take for them to have it returned to him, with the deepest of apologies for what had happened.

But as pissed as he was at Arthur for kissing it when he clearly didn't want to, he found himself strangely reluctant to part with it for the slightest of second's.

"Give it, or I'll have the guards all over you in a heartbeat!" Madame Clara threatened, and Merlin winced at the rough pulling on his ring, feeling it cutting into his skin every time she yanked. He found himself pushing on her from behind, since that was pretty much all he could reach because of the awkward angle she had him in.

"Please do!" Merlin shouted back. "I want them here for this!" And even though he talked a good game, how was he supposed to know which guards would show up? Maybe it would be more guards that had yet to recognize who he was, and would treat him as if he were a common thief. Would he be arrested just because he was wearing the ring he'd been given?

Oh god, he could just hear Arthur laughing when he found out Merlin was in the dungeons for such a stupid misunderstanding.

"But Madame Clara, he's-" Mary was trying to beg, struggling to be overheard with their shouting, trying to get it through to Madame Clara that this was Sir Consort Merlin.

"I don't care who he is!" Clara interrupted, not bothering to look back at her because she was still struggling to get the ring off with all of Merlin's wiggling. "A thief is a thief in my book!"

Maybe it was from the stress of the situation, or maybe it was because he'd already been called a whore, manhandled, and a thief within the last five minutes. But something inside of Merlin just seemed to have shifted.

The torch nearest to them suddenly engorged, shooting upwards as if gasoline had been poured on top of it. Madame Clara screamed, throwing herself back even though she was in no danger of actually being burned.

When Madame Clara threw herself back, it loosened Merlin enough for him to jerk his arm free. He yelped as he tripped over his own feet, landing hard on his side. The flames of the torchlight flickered as it died back down to what was normal for a torch.

"Sir Merlin!" Mary was wailing, positive that Madame Clara was going to end up executed for her assault on the royal family. And she probably would have been, had her attack been on any other member of the family. Or if Merlin was anybody else.

"The torch-what happened to the torch?" Madame Clara was stuttering, looking baffled at the torch. As if she thought it was going to ignite again.

Merlin looked just as panicked, feeling Mary grabbing him under his arms. She had abandoned her silver serving tray, where it had clattered somewhere on the floor, in her rush to help Merlin. She was struggling to help him stand, his taller body making it so much harder for her, especially since Merlin was nothing but dead weight, to stunned by what had just happened to actually stand on his own.

But he still had his ring. He could feel it, the body warmed metal nearly hot against his own skin.

Merlin finally registered Mary's slim hands trying to tug him to his feet, and that was the reminder he needed to realize that he was still sprawled out on the floor.

Merlin found himself scrambling to his feet, nearly knocking Mary off of her own feet at his sudden movement.

"I'm so sorry! She's not usually like this! She just doesn't like our work being disrupted! She would never, never done this if she knew who you were! She just-" Mary blubbered on, trying to make an endless array of excuses, even as she fidgeted with Merlin's clothes, straightening up what had been messed up when he'd fallen.

"Mary! Mary, I'm fine!" Merlin exclaimed, having to wave his own arms around to stop her from being unable to touch him. "I just...clearly this isn't the right time for anything. And I'm just gonna go-"

Merlin was backing off down the hall, feeling guilty as he heard Mary's endless blubbering continuing on. But he just didn't want to be here anymore, and he didn't want to risk Madame Clara snapping out of her stupor and trying to go after his ring again.

At the thought of the ring, Merlin rubbed the fingers of his left hand together, as if reminding himself that it was still there. That Madame Clara hadn't gotten it, and he really didn't have to part with it.

"I'm so sorry!" Mary was wailing after him, burying her hands in her face as if she was trying to hide her tear stained face. Merlin froze in mid-step, feeling more awkward than he knew what to do with.

"Please don't cry!" He exclaimed, looking helpless. What was he supposed to do with a crying girl? Was he supposed to comfort her...? Was he supposed to pat her on the shoulder, or give her a hug? It wasn't like he had much experience comforting crying girl's!

And why was a crying girl somehow more terrifying than facing up to Prince Arthur Pendragon had ever been?

He awkwardly held his hand out towards her, ready to gingerly pat her on the shoulder, even if it was more obvious than ever that he had absolutely no idea what he was doing.

But before he had the chance to do anything, Madame Clara had apparently snapped out of her stupor. Because she was suddenly standing in front of Mary, looking at Merlin as if he had just committed some great carnal sin.

"And what do you think you're doing!" Madame Clara snarled, as if she thought he was trying to do something inappropriate with Mary. "You little-"

Madame Clara was clearly on the warpath, her earlier fall just cementing in her mind that Merlin was to blame. And there was clearly nothing that Merlin could do to stop her, not when she was hell bent on relieving him of his 'stolen goods.'

Merlin found himself backing up, just out of reach of Madame Clara's grubby finger's as she tried to grab onto him. It was only as Madame Clara's finger's were brushing the sleeve of his jacket, did he find himself wrenching back.

Madame Clara let out some kind of gruntled shout at his clear defiance of her, and then made a mad dive for him. Merlin yelped, throwing himself back only to slam against a wall, making him jolt in shock because he hasn't even been aware that he had gotten so close to the wall.

But he didn't have to worry.

There was the sound of something sliding, and a shriek as Madame Clara came tumbling forward. She had stepped right on top of Mary's forgotten serving tray, and it went skidding out from under her. Madame Clara fell straight on her belly, flopping around like a dead fish just inches in front of Merlin.

Merlin's head shot up, locking eye's with Mary's. Both of them had their eye's wide, looking at each other with shock and confusion over what had just occurred.

"Mary! Mary! Help me up and we can stop the thief!" Madame Clara wailed from where she was still on the ground, unable to get herself back to her own feet. "We'll drag him to the king together and have him confess to stealing from a noble!"

Mary glanced down at Madame Clara, and then back at Merlin. Not saying a word, but still looking panicked, Mary mouthed 'go.'

Madame Clara was in one of her mood's, exasperated by their work being disturbed and a presumed thief being near her kitchens. There was really nothing that any of the servants could have done to make her see reason.

Merlin nodded rapidly, getting Mary's message loud and clear. And as guilty as he felt for leaving Mary to deal with Madame Clara on her own, it was clear that Merlin's mere presence was doing absolutely nothing to help the situation.

Merlin pushed himself up off the wall and took off running, his chest heaving as he hurried off into the darkened hallways, deeper and deeper into the bowels of the castle.

"You better run!" Madame Clara wailed after him. "If I see you near my girl's again, you won't be so lucky! You better return that ring! Cause if I catch you wearing it again, I'll petition the king to have your head on a rotten spike!"

"Madame Clara!" Merlin could hear the echo of Mary wailing herself. "You can't do that to him! That was Consort Merlin! He could have your head on a spike for assaulting the royal family!"

Merlin rounded a random corner just as he heard Madame Clara's words echoing somewhere in the distance, "Are you daft, girl! I may have not seen the consort, but I know for damn sure that couldn't be him! Somebody like him? A consort! Stop believing every damn lie somebody tells you and help me up off this floor!"

And then Merlin was to far away to be able to hear anything else that Mary and Madame Clara could have been saying.

'Somebody like him?'

Those words echoed in his mind as he raced into parts of the castle unknown.

X

Merlin didn't know how long he had been running, and he didn't know where he was going. He just knew that he had never been on this side of the castle, so he was helplessly lost.

But he wasn't concerned about finding his way out, not yet at least. At some point, although don't ask him when because he couldn't remember, his frantic running had died down to a light jog. And barely seconds after that, he had stopped running altogether.

And then he had stopped walking.

He stood in a random hallway alit with dim torches, staring down at his scuffed up old boots.

'Somebody like him'

Madame Clara's words echoed in his head, so loud and pounding that it felt as if his head was going to explode. Merlin squeezed his eye's shut, trying to ignore it, as he rose his hands up to cover at his ear's. As if he thought hindering his hearing would stop the word's from screaming inside his head.

All the action did was make them louder.

Was it strange that those words had shaken him up more than Madame Clara attacking him to take his ring actually had?

Merlin squeezed his eye's tighter together, thankful that he was alone, if only so nobody would be able to see the pinprick of frustrated tears starting to build up under his eyelashes.

If Madame Clara had just been an isolated incident, he probably would have laughed about the whole misunderstanding after everything was said and done with. In hindsight, it almost could have been considered funny. That Merlin was so out of the loop, that people were actually attacking him because he was doing the things that a consort was supposed to be doing.

But Madame Clara wasn't an isolated incident.

There had been Valiant, when they had first met in that hallway. All Merlin had wanted to do was get to the stadium so he could watch his husband fight for the first time. The knight had claimed he could drag him in front of the king in a heartbeat, and have him executed if Merlin bumping into him had caused a single scratch on his armor. He had completely changed his tune after he learned Merlin was the consort, and then changed it again to a much more disturbing level after he learned Merlin was a commoner.

There had been all of those knights he'd met during the meet and greet of the champions. How many of them would have treated him cruelly if they had met somewhere else? If they also hadn't realized that he was their new consort? How many of them just put on a good face, trying to somehow win the favor of Camelot's consort, as if he had any actual power in his particular situation.

There had been Uther, who had taken him aside just to tell him what was expected of him. The king hadn't been interested in sharing with him tips or brief lessons that would help him actually become this great consort that everyone was expecting him to be, before they'd even met him. All he'd done was tell Merlin that he was expecting for him to act as if he loved his son, because apparently any actual growing of feelings towards his son was something non-negotiable.

And of course, to not be a burden.

But that was exactly how Merlin was feeling, as if he actually were a burden. Because nothing he did seemed to go right. Even something as simple as putting Arthur's armor on, which would probably be the easier thing he'd have to do in the upcoming days, he now considered a complete disaster now that he was looking back on it.

All Arthur had done was complain. And sure, all Arthur ever did was complain that everything he did was wrong. Merlin usually just laughed it off, or dismissed it, or gave back as good as Arthur was giving him.

So why was it so hard now to pretend that everything was okay now? That he was okay.

Hell, even Morris was giving him shit, with those cryptic comments he would give Merlin just before he would leave. Subtle threats about the possibility of Arthur burning him, or how he shouldn't misunderstand his relationship with Arthur or expect anything from him.

All of that combined...it practically pierced him like a dagger straight through the chest. And that wasn't even getting into all of the things that Arthur had done.

-Running away from him in terror at the stadium

-Only defending him against that knight because it would make him look bad if he didn't

-Criticizing him and accusing him of liking Valiant during the meet-and-greet

-Making Merlin's crush on him grow stronger, and leaving him flustered after he kissed Merlin's ring. He should have known then that Arthur had no inkling of actually wanting to do it. That it was just another way of making them 'look happy' for the people.

Merlin's head jolted up as he heard something in the distance, a tear breaking free from his eyelashes to slid slowly down his face from the sudden movement. It had sounded as if a door was slamming somewhere further down the hallway, and Merlin could hear the subtle sound of footsteps heading in his direction.

The tear bobbed for a second when it reached his chin, before it slid off with a plop, landing somewhere on Merlin's shirt.

Merlin's hand shot up, touching the single wet streak on the side of his face. He jerked his hand away, looking down at the slight wetness on his fingertips in shock. When had he started crying? Why was he crying?

Merlin honestly could not remember the last time he'd cried. Had he even cried when he'd been forced to leave his mother's hut? Had he even cried when his wedding had been underway?

Was he even crying now? Because it had only been one single teardrop, born out of his frustration. Born because he full well knew that he didn't know what he was doing, and knowing that it was only a matter of time before everybody else realized it as well.

If they hadn't already.

Merlin's head jolted back up as he heard the sound of someone talking just around the corner.

Merlin's head whipped around in an almost panicked state, trying to find somewhere he could be that wasn't...here. Don't be a burden, that was what Uther had told him just before he had left the king on that stupid balcony.

Being found here, in the state that he was in right now, looking as if he'd been crying because of that single wet trail he could still feel-fresh and cold-against his cheek...he wouldn't have to be told that he'd been a burden to whoever had found him. He would already feel like one.

And maybe he just didn't want to be caught like this. Maybe, maybe he just didn't want somebody to see him looking like one hot mess.

Merlin practically dove through the first open doorway that he saw, slamming it shut behind him. He pressed his back up against the door-paying no attention to what was actually inside-as if he could have actually stopped somebody (with just his body) from kicking in the door if they really wanted to get in.

Merlin felt his breath catch as he heard somebody walking past, and he bit down on his lip as if he were trying not to attract any attention to himself.

"I'm telling you, I thought I heard somebody!" A deep voice said as he was passing, and it was far to easy for Merlin to imagine that the man was a knight. Who else would be wondering throughout the hallways so late at night?

"You're imagining things!" Another, second voice, exclaimed. "There's nothing here!" And Merlin waited with baited breath until the sound of their footsteps had faded away into nothingness.

It was only after things had been dead silent for several minutes, did Merlin feel his tensed up muscles relaxing. He allowed a breath of relief to escape his body and he slumped against the door. Feeling as if his leg's could no longer hold him up, Merlin slowly slid down the door until he was plopping down on the floor.

Merlin wrapped his arms around his legs, and dragged them up so that he could rest his forehead against his knee's.

One breath, two breath-Merlin thought, taking slow and steady breaths. He was squeezing his eye's shut again, and maybe it was just because of how forceful he was doing it, but he could feel the tears brimming behind his eyelids.

Maybe all he needed was a good cry. Just one good cry to get everything out of his system. Maybe then, he wouldn't feel so crummy. As if everything he did was somehow wrong, as if nothing had gone right since Leon, Tristian, and Dorian had shown up at his doorstep all those weeks ago.

What he wanted to do was to just go home and forget all of this. And okay, maybe he wasn't exactly happy back home either-the place just being way to small for somebody like him, as his mother would have said. But at least there he had his mother, and he'd had Will.

That was really all he had ever needed.

It was only as Merlin felt a second tear start to slide down his cheek, his shoulders nearly shaking, did he jerk his head up.

"Why am I doing this?" He muttered to himself, his voice sounding almost like a sob. But he swallowed past the lump growing in his throat, and rubbed harshly at his eye's to stem the flow of tears before they could really start coming out.

He didn't want to be the kind of person that sat in a room by themselves and cried out all of their problems. He didn't want to sit here feeling sorry for himself, even though that was exactly what he was doing. But what else could he do?

Merlin hissed, still rubbing at his eye's, when something caught on the corner of his eye. He jerked his hands away from his face, as if he thought it was going to happen again if he wasn't quick enough.

Merlin's eyes caught on his wedding ring, and he stared almost transfixed at the little red dragon carved into the silver of the metal framework.

As if the memory was on repeat in his head, Merlin remembered his wedding. The day that Arthur had slid this ring on his finger the first time he had ever saw it. God, they had hated each other so much, practically shoving it onto the other's fingers in an effort to make it hurt.

They still hated each other, or at least-Arthur still hated Merlin.

Merlin didn't think that he could hate Arthur anymore, even with all of the crap he's done. Not with his feeling's growing stronger by the hour, despite any of the stuff he's done.

Merlin found himself twisting the ring around his finger, in an almost soothing gesture. Kind of a way to remind himself that he still had it, that he'd gotten away before Madame Clara could have gotten her grubby little hands on it.

"Why...?" Merlin said, quietly to himself, his dry throat cracking on the word as he trailed off. There were so many things he could have been asking himself, things that he would probably never get the answers to.

But there was one question that was at the forefront of his mind-Why had he cared so much about this stupid ring? It was nothing more than a piece of rounded metal. A stupidly expensive piece of metal, but it wasn't something that he needed.

All he had to do was let Madame Clara take it, and it would have probably been returned to him by morning once the knight's discovered which 'noble' it had been stolen from.

But he had fought instead, he'd even used his magic to make the torch burst out so that he could get away.

Merlin found himself practically rolling into a ball, dragging his legs tightly back up so that they were pressed up against his chest. He rested his head back on his knee's, and wrapped his arms loosely around his legs. As he sat there, absentmindedly playing with his ring, he found himself scraping his thumbnail over the red carving of the dragon.

"...Stupid Arthur," he said quietly to himself. How could he not think of Arthur when he looked at his ring? How could he not remember when Arthur had pressed a kiss to it, a kiss that had felt far to hot and real it to turn out that he'd just been 'acting for the people.'

But that was exactly what he had done. And maybe Merlin was just emotionally exhausted, but he could almost feel the tears starting to build back up in his eye's. He had to blink rapidly, forcing them back under the surface.

He just couldn't bring himself to sit here and start crying because of Arthur Fucking Pendragon.

And Merlin knew without a doubt in his body, that he was never going to tell Arthur about what had just happened. The next time they met...what had happened tonight was going to be Merlin's secret. Mainly because he didn't think he'd be able to tell Arthur that Madame Clara had just been the straw that had broken the camels back. He didn't want to tell Arthur that Madame Clara had just been one step to far, because then he'd have to tell him that he'd just spent the early hours of morning hiding out while being on the verge of tears.

"He probably won't care anyway." Merlin muttered, almost bitterly as he practically dragged himself to his feet.

The only one's that had been involved was Merlin, Madame Clara, and Mary, who would be seen as nothing more than just the serving girl. There had been no nobles involved, so there was nobody for Arthur to impress or trick into thinking he cared more for his consort than he actually did.

So there was no reason to get involved.

Merlin doubted that Arthur would go out of his way to do anything about it anyway. Not when the prince could still claim plausible deniability since he hadn't been there.

Merlin, just pure tired of feeling this miserable and just wanting to think about something else, finally drew his eye's up off of the patch of flooring in front of him.

And felt his breath catching when he realized, with upmost certainty, that he was now standing in what was clearly Camelot's armory.