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!

54. Chapter 54

Gwen nibbled down on her bottom lip as she clenched and unclenched the thinning skirts of her dress. All she had wanted was to be able to help Merlin, to be somebody that he could lean on during these troubling times. But it could have been an error on her part, to bring up Merlin's failed attempt at a favor.

She felt as if she had caused him unnecessary pain.

"Merlin, I really am...sorry." Gwen finished off almost pitifully. Arthur's reaction hadn't been the kind of outcome she'd considered when she and Morgana had been pressuring him into it. All she could see was what Merlin's face had looked like right after Arthur had marched out onto the tourney field without his favor.

"It's not your fault." Merlin said, playing with his fingers on top of his knees. He'd never once blamed Morgana or Gwen for what had happened, he didn't even blame Arthur right now. Maybe he would later, when his problem didn't include would be assassination attempts. Merlin's words got away with him for a minute as he said, "I should have known not to attempt something with him. I was so stupid thinking for one second that I could get him to see me as something...more, then what he was just saddled with."

At this point, Merlin didn't even care about the stupid contract, or how Uther had been so forceful with telling him he should keep it quiet, back on that stupid balcony after the meet and greet. Although, Merlin let a little smirk grace itself upon his lips. He still wasn't able to believe that Arthur had really thought he was in love with him. It was just so bloody ridiculous and now that he had cooled down some, he didn't know rather he wanted to cry or laugh about it.

A favor didn't mean he was in love with the bloke. He'd just been...testing the waters, so to speak. And let's just say, he wouldn't be testing them again anytime soon.

"Merlin!" Gwen exclaimed, looking at him with a worried grin as she nudged him on his arm, "You are not stupid! Arthur is! He's-I mean-" Gwen felt herself flush mortified as it accord to her that she'd just told Camelot's consort that his royal husband was stupid. It would be Merlin's every right to have her in the stocks for her impudence.

But all Merlin did was laugh at her, a soft and kind of breathy laugh. The kind that sounded as if he had really needed it, and then a sad smile was on Merlin's lips as he gazed out in front of him absentmindedly, "He really is a stupid one, isn't he? That Arthur..." Merlin let out a heavy sigh. Arthur, as stupid as he was being, as childish as he had been acting as he had literally been arguing with Merlin over rather he was in love with him-still such a ridiculous thought-or not. He still didn't deserve to die by Valiant's hands, he didn't deserve to have the fangs of those snakes digging into his neck and injecting their deadly poison into his veins. Merlin turned back to Gwen, "Do you know what happened after I left the council meeting? You were still there after I left, weren't you?"

Gwen gave him a worriedly look, her eyes darting between his own. She didn't know if this sudden change in topic was just because he didn't want to talk about Arthur, or if he was actually looking for a real answer. Either way, Gwen looked away to stare absently at a group of chittering maids sweeping passed them in a swirl of dirty skirts and big laundry baskets perched on their hips.

"The tourney has been rescheduled for this upcoming morning." She admitted tensely, as stiff as a board as her jaw locked. Morgana and herself had waited behind as the others had filtered out, they had heard Uther decide this, heard him tell some of the guards to alert the people and spread the word that the fight was still going forward as planned. That his son's brief lack of judgement was nothing but a spur of nerves that would pass as soon as the adrenaline of the fight hit him.

Merlin nodded without saying a word, he had been expecting as much. Gwen could have been talking about the weather for anybody knew, the way Merlin's expression hadn't shifted in the least. Not even when he was angling his head towards the sun, and noting that the sun was probably going to drop down into the horizon within the next couple of hours or so. He still had this somewhat bored and placate expression on his face, as he was secured in the knowledge that Arthur was going to die in about twelve hours time.

After all, Arthur didn't believe him about the snakes, probably still thought he was lying about all of this. Thought he was pathetic enough to pull all of this out of his arse just because he had some hurt feelings over the blonde rejecting him. And maybe he was hurt but he wasn't that petty, to drag their problems in front of the entire court on a whim.

But clearly, Arthur wasn't going to prepare himself for the possibility of being attacked by snakes. Probably wasn't even going to bother carrying an antidote for snake venom on him just in case Merlin was actually telling him the truth. No, he would probably rather bite off his own tongue, then trust Merlin again, after how badly the last time he had trusted him had gone.

The council meeting had been nothing less than one epic, utter disaster for everybody involved. Except probably Valiant, who had no problem pulling everybody's strings from behind the curtains. Like a puppeteer.

"Is it really true?" Gwen asked when Merlin didn't say anything for the longest time, as her eyes shot over to look at him. "About what you said, is Valiant really using magic?"

To Gwen, Valiant hadn't looked like a person who used magic. In the stories whispered to her as a child, the children whispering among themselves stories they overheard from their parents talking, the witches were always this old crone who was trying to destroy all that they held dear. Valiant wasn't though. He was a young man, strong and proud, looking no different than any of the other knights. He even carried the same cocky arrogance that all nobles seemed to have, the way he just dismissed servants with a snap of his fingers and not looking at any of them as they filled his drinks or carried linens into his rooms. But she supposed that was just what made magic users all the more dangerous. How they were able to blend so easily into their society.

Now that she was grown and put most of the sillier stories out of mind, she could see that those who practiced magic, could often look no different then herself. They weren't always the old crone that everybody avoided out of fear that she may curse them, like how all of the people had avoided Mary-the witch that had attacked Arthur on his wedding-because of her odd ways. And that was before she'd revealed herself as a witch.

They could literally be anybody. Hell, if she didn't know any better, she could've claimed Merlin was a magic user! Or...Gaius! Or even her Lady Morgana! But all of that was also a laughable idea. All of them were nice! In a way that Valiant just...wasn't.

Merlin didn't say a word to her, all he did was nod his head solemnly. Maybe Gwen would be just like the rest and not believe him, but at least he could claim later on that he had told her the truth. When Valiant attacked the prince in the morning, nobody could claim that Merlin hadn't tried to warn them all. He had done his duty, he had let them all know what was about to come. Now it was up to them to do what they will with the forewarning he had given them. He could wash his hands of all of this and just watch as the pieces fell where they would...he clearly wasn't cut out for this 'prophecy'. Hell, he was still convinced that it was really somebody else.

Gwen swallowed hard, playing with her nails in an anxious way, "And Valiant," she said in a shaking tone before she steeled her shoulders and spit out what she was trying to say, or at least part way. "Did he really...to you..."

Merlin didn't need her to clarify what she meant, she had been pretty obvious to him. It was really only one thing she could have been talking about. "He didn't actually touch me if that's what you mean." Merlin said, still staring ahead of him with that solemn look of his, now resting his chin on top of his arms now folded over his knees. "But he did try."

It was probably just one more nightmare to add to the list of nightmares he was going to be getting while he lived in Camelot. They'd be torn between him being burned alive after somebody finally saw him using magic, and Valiant actually succeeding by getting into his room to finish the job, when he hadn't in reality.

Gwen looked stunned by this confession, but also mixed with having expected it, "That absolute..." she stopped as she tried to think of a word that would best describe such an awful creep. She hadn't liked him too much herself, but that was probably because she could see how he treated the servants, but Morgana had liked him well enough.

Merlin smiled at this, refusing to look at Gwen with a bitter smile on his face. He was almost positive that she was about to start calling him a liar and accusing him of just trying to ruin the tourney for his own petty reasons. It was what Arthur had done.

Gwen finished off in that disbelieving tone of hers, "Unimaginable creep!" It was hard to wrap her mind around somebody who would attack somebody as kind as Merlin. He wasn't exactly like all of the nobles around here-thanks to his common raised heritage-and his new role in society hadn't seemed to go to his head at all. That was a rare thing, indeed.

Merlin whipped his head around to look at her, the surprise evident on his features. He honestly hadn't been expecting her to agree with him, to believe him. He was expecting some kind of outrage for accusing Valiant, because apparently knights were unable to commit such 'heinous' crimes. Only peasants were capable of such acts because they were dirty and unfit, not noble and raised to carry on the honor of their family.

Gwen matched his stare head on, looking worried and drawn out, "What are you going to do?" She asked, wringing her hands together. It wasn't even a real question to her, obviously Merlin was going to do something since the king wasn't.

Merlin smiled bitterly as he finally lifted his chin out of his arms, "Why does everyone seem to think it's down to me to do anything about it?" First it was the dragon who was insisting he was apart of some ancient future prophecy that he still didn't quite understand the details of. Then it was Gwen who was now looking at him as if he knew all of the answers and already had a plan worked out in his head. Newsflash: he didn't.

Didn't Camelot have armed guards for this reason? Weren't they the ones who had done some vow to uphold Camelot and protect the royal family? Merlin hadn't made any vow like that-unless one counted his marriage vows which Arthur clearly wasn't-so why was this burden being put on his shoulders? If Arthur wanted to die because he was to hardheaded then that wasn't his problem. Let Arthur fight in the morning unprepared! Let the snakes go after him for all he cared.

"Because it is!" Gwen exclaimed like it was an obvious fact. Merlin was the consort, was it not the consort's sworn duty to protect his people, just like the king's and the prince? It wasn't protecting them if the king allowed Valiant into the ranks of the knights. And then she frowned, creases forming in her forehead as she looked Merlin over. Because he hadn't been trained to be anybody's consort, not to her knowledge that was. He was just like her, wasn't he? A peasant, a commoner, someone who was dirty because they didn't have any riches and was unable to trace their family tree back three generations or more. "Isn't it?" She tried to imagine herself in Merlin's spot, if she had been the one to marry the prince? Would she had been brave enough to try and argue against the king when he refused to believe her? "You have to show everybody that you were right and they were wrong!"

It was the only way for him to get his standing in society back. If he had even had it in the first place.

Merlin finally looked at her, taking in just how concerned and worried her expression was. It made him shake his head, "And how do I do that?" Merlin asked. He'd been musing over that as well in his better moments as he had sat here, trying to find out some kind of alternative situation for him to help. But this was something Arthur and him should have been working on figuring out together. He shouldn't be here on this stair step by himself, trying to fix a problem that wasn't even his own. This wasn't about him! He had every right in the world to just walk away and leave Arthur to his fate.

His mind was blank, he didn't even know where to start!

The creases in Gwen's forehead deepened even more, "Merlin, I don't think you quite understand! You're the consort!" As if Merlin didn't know that already, as if Merlin wasn't starting to loathe the very word itself. Gwen continued with her spiral, "The people have been talking, I've heard nobles and commoners alike whispering among themselves. They are saying awful things, like how you're only doing this for attention. And it was even mentioned that you're unfit to be our consort!"

Merlin sighed, facing back around to return his chin onto his arms, "Well, maybe they are right." Anybody could have done a better job than he was doing, nobody else would have made the mistakes that he had been making. Hell, it may be better if that girl who gave Arthur the favor was consort instead of him. She was probably graceful and elegant, a true noble born who knew exactly what she was doing, when he knew nothing.

Gwen looked as if she had swallowed a lemon with the way her lips were pursed because of Merlin's response. "Okay," she said in a sharp tone, startling Merlin by this sudden change in her. "Say that they are right, and you just sit here and wait till everything is over. Do you think it's just going to end after Arthur is dead? What do you think is going to happen afterwards?"

Merlin blinked at her dumbly as he raised his head back up. It was clear that no, he hadn't thought about what was going to happen afterwards. He had been stuck on imagining Arthur's fallen body as two snakes slithered over his body.

"Arthur is going to be dead." Gwen said with a tone of finality in her words, sitting with her back straight and looking as noble as any lady of the court. "And if Valiant gets away with it without anybody seeing him use this magic you say he has, then he's going to be sticking around. And do you know what will happen to yourself?"

Merlin swallowed hard as he considered all of the changes that would have to be made. He would have to be on his guard at all times, he wouldn't be able to leave his room unlocked. Would have to seal himself in his room every night for fear that Valiant would show up and try to finish what he had started that first night. There would be no Arthur right next door as he'd be in his grave. Not that Arthur was any help to him now, but the first night Valiant had shown up, it had been a comfort to him that Arthur was right next door, even if he had been to busy sleeping to realize there was a problem.

It probably wouldn't be any comfort now since Arthur knew the truth but was comfortable with just ignoring what was obvious. It almost made him long to be back in Arthur's room, when the prince had been acting so weird and freaking him out. It was a protectiveness Arthur had shown him, Merlin would probably never see it again.

It made Merlin sick to know that he may still have this little part inside of him that wanted to be with Arthur. That even though Arthur had treated him so horribly, there was still this little part of him that hoped they could move on from this. And he was never going to have the chance to see-to finally accept it-for himself if he was just on a fool's mission, or if Arthur may actually have a heart under all that macho male ego he tried to hide behind.

Gwen continued her spiral, "If Uther refuses to see reason, to contemplate that Valiant may not be how he portrays himself to be, if Arthur won't stand up to his own father and goes out there just to die, who do you think the kingdom will turn to?"

Merlin brought his hand up and rubbed with a harsh motion at the little piece of skin that was between his eye's. "Please tell me that it isn't me." He practically begged. It was one thing for him to help Arthur-that was what he had been trying to do now-but he couldn't just take Arthur's place. He wasn't fit to be consort, how was he supposed to be-what would it even be called-prince adjacent?

Gwen nodded her head at him solemnly, "The kingdom will turn to you. If Arthur dies, then the day comes that Uther steps down as the king, you will be the next in line." Merlin, he'd be the one to be their king if Arthur died, he'd be the one that was going to lead them and many wouldn't be happy with this. To see a peasant resting sorely on the greatest throne in the land...it wasn't going to be easy.

Merlin yanked his hand off of his face, finally an emotion of him that wasn't depression. He was now showing panic, "What about having the throne go to Morgana?" He asked in an urgent tone. He was a horrible consort, had yet to make it a full month and was already screwing up everything so terribly. Did they really think it was a good idea to make him the one actually in charge?

But Gwen just shook her head at him with a sad expression on her face, as if she could sense how much this was ripping Merlin apart at the seams inside of himself. "She's not related to the Pendragon's, not by blood at least." Gwen took her time to explain. "The Prince is though, and as his husband, that'd make you higher than even Morgana in the line of succession. People first look towards Uther to lead us, and if he's unable to for one reason or the other, the next to fall in line will be Arthur. But if he's dead, or otherwise has been incapacitated, you're next. If something were to happen to you, then maybe Morgana would be given the chance to lead. But that is also a bit more complicated since she's not actually related to them, and she is also a woman. I suppose if she was married, they may allow her husband to take on the mantle of king..." she trailed off, looking as if she was contemplating rather or not this scenario was a possibility.

But Merlin wasn't all that concerned over rather or not Morgana would be allowed to take over because she was an unmarried woman. He balanced his elbows onto his knees and clenched harshly at his hair, "And there is nothing that I can do about any of this." He hissed under his breath.

He should probably just jump off a bridge right about now. To save himself from future Merlin's problems.

All he wanted to do was rip his hair out of his skull and scream at the sky about how wrong his entire life was. He couldn't even save the life of one bloody prince, how would he even be able to lead a nation? According to that dragon, it was Arthur that was supposed to lead this nation into greatness, but how was he supposed to do that if he was going to be dead by morning's time?

Gwen shook her head, her eyes dim as she saw Merlin freaking out. "Not unless Uther has another child out there." Gwen said with a soft voice. "A blood heir that you would be able to eradicate the throne to after Arthur is declared dead."

But neither of them were entirely counting on that one. Nobles were strict when it came to their bloodlines, and the one thing they were good about was keeping said bloodline clean and pure. The only reason a noble would hide a child was if it had been born because of an affair, or if somebody was threatened by the child for whatever reason and hiding it away was the only option for keeping it safe. Most nobles would rather cut off their own tongues than admit to having an unknown child, most especially if that child had been born out of wedlock.

Even if-on the off chance-that Uther did have some kind of child out there, it would ruin him to have that revealed. No. Even Uther would rather have a peasant take up the throne than admit he'd betrayed his late wife and lain with another at some point.

"Then it's hopeless." Merlin said quietly as he lifted his head out of his hands. But Gwen almost wished he hadn't, because she didn't like to see the almost dead way his eyes were looking. "If Arthur dies tomorrow...then I'll be the next prince." Prince adjacent? Whatever.

Merlin absentmindedly reached up to scratch at his neck, only to hesitate when he touched bare skin instead of his neckerchief. Right, he remembered as he bit down on his lip almost hard enough to taste the blood forming, or maybe it was to just stop the hysterical laughter that wanted to break free. The bloody prat had lost it, and Merlin was going to inherit his throne. It shouldn't connect at all, but this was now Merlin's life.

Gwen nodded solemnly, "You'll be the next prince." She agreed with him. She didn't envy Merlin not one bit. She would love to make a difference, to be able to help people in a way that she couldn't because she was just one handmaiden. But she wouldn't want an entire kingdom to rely on her...the burden would be far to hard to bear. Especially when one was alone with nobody to help carry said burden.

Merlin didn't answer her at first, as he yanked his hand away from the skin of his throat. He really hoped that Gwen hadn't noticed, but if she did, she didn't say anything. And was it strange that he was mourning more over the loss of his beloved neckerchief, then he was over the possibility of becoming a widow very soon?...it had been a really good neckerchief, was his weak defense to himself. But Merlin knew inside, that thinking about that piece of cloth was probably the only thing stopping him from having a complete meltdown right about now. It was giving him something to hold onto, something to get angry at instead of resorting to stay in this depressive mood he'd fallen into.

He had just been so sure that everything was going to be over after he'd told Arthur about Valiant using magic. That he could 'pass the torch on' so to speak, and let Arthur deal with the information as he saw fit. Which had led them to the council meeting, and Merlin had spent the better part of the afternoon totally convinced that he had done everything in his power to stop this from happening.

But he hadn't stopped anything, had he? Not with the fight still scheduled to happen. He'd done nothing but make a mess of things. He had all of this power at his fingertips-power enough to be called a warlock by a mythical dragon-and yet, he was powerless to stop this fight from passing. There just had to be something he wasn't thinking of, some small piece to this puzzle that he was overlooking for the big picture.

Merlin didn't want to take over after Arthur was dead, which meant that Arthur wasn't allowed to die. His involvement wasn't over just because he had warned Arthur of the danger. Arthur didn't want to listen to him, then fine. But he couldn't walk away either, it was this feeling inside of him that screamed at him to do something.

Merlin found himself fidgeting with his ring, turning the gleaming silver metal around his finger over and over again, anxiously trying to think of something while he was sitting there with Gwen. But his mind was blank, he'd had already exhausted all of the possibilities and the stupid ring was distracting him. God, how he hated this stupid piece of metal. The thing probably costed more than his entire life ever would, and he was still wearing it.

Arthur had lost his neckerchief. Maybe Merlin should just sell the ring. He wondered exactly how much he could get for a genuine-two of a kind only-Pendragon wedding ring, even for just the one and not the matched set. Yeah, it would show Arthur that Merlin didn't have to put up with him. But Arthur would need to be alive for him to do that.

Come on Merlin, think. Think. Think. He told himself, trying to think outside of the box, to come up with something that he hadn't even considered yet. There had to be something, it was no chance that he had literally thought of everything yet. There had to be something, if there wasn't then...

Merlin stopped twisting his ring, a very slow and contemplative look over his face as he stared down the metal. There was some kind of light shining off of it, the metal reflecting against it? At first, Merlin had just thought it was the sun's light and hadn't given it much of a second thought. But now...no, that hadn't been it, had it?

Merlin moved his hand a little, watching the way the small circle of light bounced around with it. It took him a few seconds before he was able to track down the search of the bit of light that had nearly blinded him at first as it had deflected off the metal of his ring and caught him in the eye as the sun hit it at just the right angle.

And when he did see what was causing that light, Merlin could feel a small grin starting to form on his face. The idea hit him like a bolt of lighting, something so out there and crazy that only a sorcerer (or maybe a warlock) would have been able to think of it in the first place.

The spark of hope that had faded into a deep depression seemed to ignite and rushed over his body as the pieces of the puzzle slotted together in his mind, and it formed an idea that was so stupidly crazy, outrageous even, that it may just work.

Arthur may be a stubborn arse who thought of nobody but himself, but Merlin was going to save his life anyway.

"This is it." Merlin said, barely acknowledging Gwen at his side as he jolted up to his feet. It was the idea that he'd been searching for, the one thing that could-as Gwen had said-show everybody that he was right.

"Where are you going?" Gwen shouted after him as he hurried off. But she followed after him anyway, all the way to the far wall just off the side of the stairs.

Merlin ignored her though, to caught up in his planning. In front of him was the statue of a dog, situated just in front of one of the many stone walls of the castle. All poised and sitting up with what could only be described as an elegant way, it was most definitely not a mutt.

Merlin circled it, paying special attention to the glass eye's that had been used on the dog's face. The sunlight bounced off of them in a strangely mesmerizing way, and it just got him even more excited for what he was planning.

This wasn't over like he thought. Valiant may have thought he'd knocked Merlin out of the game, may had thought he'd won, but Merlin wasn't done playing just yet. If Merlin had any thing to say about it, Valiant wasn't going to be the survivor of the upcoming fight.

Merlin crouched down awkwardly, trying to wrap his arm's around the dog's frame. What he was planning couldn't be done here out in the open, but the dog was also just a tad too large for him to be able to carry comfortably. It also wasn't the lightest thing, made out of a solid material. But Merlin just grunted, and he tried to tug with all of his might anyway.

It didn't budge.

But Merlin wasn't going to give up so easily. If nobody was going to believe him when he'd spoken his truth, then he was just gonna do this himself. He tried to pull the statue again but only got it to move a centimeter, this was going to take him forever. Arthur would have been long dead and buried before he'd even made it to the stairs.

That was when Merlin seemed to realize that Gwen had followed him, and the handmaiden was watching him with a frown of mistaken confusion. Okay, so maybe he wasn't quite as alone as he thought.

Still crouched behind the statue and trying to force it to move without toppling it right over and shattering before he could do this, Merlin gave Gwen a sheepish smile, eye's bright and full of a renewed hope.

"Do you have a wheelbarrow?"

Arthur could be as stubborn as he wanted to be, he could yell at Merlin all he wanted to, he could claim Merlin was nothing but a liar who wanted to hurt him for petty reasons. But the prince was also about to learn that he was far more stubborn then Arthur could ever be.

Gwen didn't move at first. She clearly had no idea what he was doing, or why he was trying to move a statue by himself. Especially when she'd just told him the tourney was still going forth, but she didn't question it.

Instead, she said, "I have a better idea."

X

Gaius had just answered his door after he heard a very firm and loud knock, and now he had a baffled frown as he stared at what was outside his door. There were two very large and bulky looking knights staring him down, each one looking more annoyed and disgruntled than the last. And between them, each Knight was holding up the side of a single dog statue.

"...Can I help you gentlemen?" Gaius asked in a slow tone, blinking dumbly. He really hoped these knights didn't come here to request he fix the cracklings of a statue. He would have thought knights were smarter than that, but every now and then he had somebody show up at his door with a ridiculous request. Just because he was able to stitch people up, did not mean he was a carpenter or a sculpture. He couldn't fix uneven tables and cracked statues.

The Knight closest to him, the one that was holding up the dog statue by the head gruffly said, "The consort has requested that we'd bring this to a room in your chambers, master physician."

Gaius slowly nodded his head. Merlin? Merlin was asking these men to bring this thing up to his room? The physician gave the statue a look, trying to determine why on earth Merlin would want such a silly looking thing. He was really hoping that Merlin wasn't letting all of his newfound riches go to his head and was starting to go all eccentric on him by buying stupid things like that.

But Gaius stepped aside and allowed the men into his chambers, "Right up the stairs, gentlemen." He said with a gesture towards the stairs that led up to Merlin's room. Gaius watched the men heading up the stairs, and he shook his head. He would have many and many questions for Merlin the next time the boy stopped by.

X

The knights hadn't exactly been pleased by Merlin's request. Gwen had been the one to flag the two largest knights passing by over, and they had only done so for the handmaid because they had nothing better to do. The two had not been amused when Merlin had explained he needed them to move the dog statue to the physician's chambers, they had bitched and moaned and complained about how this was below their pay grade. It would have been faster for Merlin to just go grab his own wheelbarrow had Gwen not stepped in.

"Gentlemen, this is your new consort." She had told them. "He is still very new to our city and this is the way you welcome him? By just denying him the one and only request he has made?"

The two guards still hadn't looked happy about it, mumbling to each other. Merlin had only caught a few words but he was almost sure they had been saying 'council' and 'unfit' and 'still our consort'. It was a pain but the two guards had finally, grudgingly, gotten the statue off the ground and started the trek of transporting it across the grounds.

Now, it the prince or king had made such a ridiculous request, they would have followed the orders without question. They were brave soldiers who had trained to follow the leader without question. But Merlin was a different case, one that nobody quite knew what to make of. They listened only because he was their consort and higher in status then them. But they had also been a little more free with their annoyance then they otherwise would have been.

Merlin had apologized profusely to Gwen for needing to depart so quickly, thanked her for her help, but insisted that this was something he had to see through for himself. Mainly just because Merlin couldn't risk Gwen seeing his plans. They were a little too...magical, for him to go sprouting off about them.

So, he had made a pit stop by his bedroom to grab his magic book. Maybe it was a stupid idea, but the only thing he could do was stuff the book under his shirt and drag his jacket around his middle. He could only hope that nobody realized he had a just slightly larger stomach than he had moment's before.

Merlin was so caught up in his ideas and his planning, that he practically rushed passed Arthur's door without giving it a glance. He didn't care if Arthur was still in there, pouting or fuming over their earlier fight where he'd been torn between making excuses for his own poor behavior or accusing Merlin of lies to get back at him for said behavior.

He had a lot more important things on his mind that didn't include favors, a failed love life, or random girl's who didn't belong in said love life.

Merlin made it to his uncle's in record time as he'd practically sprinted the entire way there. He hadn't wanted to risk Arthur or anybody being able to hear what he was about to do so his uncle's was his best bet for a moment of privacy.

Merlin practically threw open the door to his uncle's home in his haste to get to it. He had most likely startled Gaius, who was standing at one of his many bookshelves flipping over the pages. Merlin nearly tripped and crashed into several objects in his way as he made his way across the room.

"Quick, Uncle Gaius!" Merlin said breathlessly from his sprint. "Did two knights happen to come through here?" He wasn't too confident that the knights had pulled through. From the way they'd been acting, it wouldn't surprise him if the knights had just ditched the statue god-knows-where.

"Carrying a statue of a dog?" Gaius said in a dry tone, looking at Merlin with a raise of his eyebrow as he snapped his book shut with a clipped motion. "Is there a reason you are having knights deliver statues to your room?"

Merlin's grin was almost blinding in nature, in a way that Gaius had yet to see from the boy. It was full of excitement and hope, and Gaius almost wished that he could see more of this youthful happiness. "The statue is important, uncle!" Merlin blustered with a huge, raging excitement as he threw his arms about. He'd nearly lost his book in his excitement, just the bottom slipping out from beneath his shirt, before he managed to snatch it back up. "It's going to fix everything!" He was laying every single hope he had on this one marble statue.

But that was okay, because now all he had to do was...get his plan to work. All he had to do was master this one spell, by late tomorrow morning, and then it'll all be okay. It couldn't be too hard...even though it had taken him far longer than he wanted to admit just to master the simple unlocking spell.

But no matter, he could do this! He could feel the power building in his fingertips at just the thought of doing this, but that might just be his own anxiousness.

Merlin turned on his heel and he started to hurry up the stairs, nearly tripping all over his own feet as he'd catch himself on one of the steps. "I'm going to let everyone see all of the snakes for themselves!" He called downstairs to his uncle. It was the only way anybody was going to believe him, if they could see it with their own eyes. Nobody would be able to say he was a liar after that! Even Arthur wouldn't be able to claim Merlin had orchestrated any of this because of petty jealousy.

Merlin had just reached the top of the stairs in his mad scramble, when Gaius couldn't hold his tongue any longer, "How exactly is a dog statue going to help?" He didn't see the connection between a statue and Arthur's upcoming fight, but it had to be something for Merlin to get so excited about.

Merlin stopped at the top of the stairs, and planted his hands on the rickety railing at the top. It creaked ominously under the sudden weight of Merlin pressing down against it. But the boy either didn't notice the way it almost seemed to be bending, or was to pumped up in his own excitement to notice.

"You'll see!" Merlin exclaimed, his grin wide enough that it could have split his face into two if he wasn't careful. He would have loved to go down there and explain everything he was thinking of to Gaius, to have somebody else till him that he wasn't a failure. That his plan may actually work in their favor. But he didn't have that kind of time. He had a very short time limit, not even a full day, and he'd need all the practice he could get if he was really going to pull this off at the last minute.

Gaius raised an eyebrow at the lad, but didn't try to stop him when he saw him hurrying into the bedroom, closing the door behind him in a hurried manner. Well then, clearly whatever this was had the boy all riled up. Gaius didn't have an idea of what he was trying to pull off, but for his sake, he hoped Merlin had thought things through. It wouldn't do for Merlin to be this enthused, only for it to crash and burn in the short timeframe he had to be able to pull off this sudden miracle of his.

"That boy is never going to do things the easy way, will he?" Gaius asked himself as he shook his head to himself. He wasn't able to imagine that whatever the statue was for, it had really been the easiest solution. Half of the problem had been getting it there! But he seemed to have at least solved that by having the knights carry it for him...

Apparently Gaius hadn't been speaking quiet enough, too used to his own space and not having somebody close enough to listen in on his idle thoughts, because then there was a creek as Merlin's door open and the boy poked his head out to look down the stairs at him.

"Of course not." Merlin called down, his smile of excitement having turned more cheeky and playful, befitting of a boy his age, instead of the look that came with somebody bearing the weight of destiny and fate on his far too slim shoulders. "Where would the fun in that be? Okay, gotta go! I'll be up here for a little bit!"

And then Merlin was slamming the door again. Gaius stared up at the door before he shook his head and returned back to flipping through his library for anything he could find on snake venom's and different kinds of possible treatments. He'd been doing his own research just in case he needed to make an emergency treatment plan during the worse case scenario.

For now, Gaius would leave Merlin be. Who knows, maybe this odd plan of his might be the key to saving Arthur's life.

X

Merlin stared the dog down. And then he was staring the dog down some more. It had all started with Merlin sitting on the very edge of a chest that sat at the foot of the small bed, the wood cracked due to age. And he leaned forward to watch the dog, as if expecting it to do some kind of trick. Within seconds though, Merlin had stood and circled around the dog, trying to study and memorize every inch of it that he could. He ran his hands between it's ears and felt the aged marble as he slid down the dog's snout, checking out the hint of snarl, it had the hint of fanged teeth poking out from the way the lips were slightly pulled back. He ran his hands down the sides of the dog, down over it's rump and along the pedestal it was perched on. He had to study all of the imperfections-imperfect not because of the sculpture but because of how long it had been standing there-and he had to know them like he knew the back of his hand.

The statue itself was made out of some kind of thick marble, completely solid all the way through it felt like, which was why Merlin had so much trouble moving it by himself. Except for the eye's though. They were the only one thing that was different, and they were made out of some kind of porcelain glass. They'd probably be quite easy to shatter, and were looking very delicate, if someone managed to get them out of the eye sockets. But no, that wasn't why he had the statue. He had made no plans to disfigure it more than it already was, chipped and with small bits of damage-a crack here or there-from over the years it had stood watch at the foot of the stairs.

He briefly wondered if anybody would notice it was missing, and how he was going to go about explaining why he had needed it. No matter, he could worry about all of the bloody technicalities later on. After all, every single second counted-every second wasted meant Arthur was more likely to die than he was the moment before.

Now that he had studied the dog statue in all of it's glory, Merlin stood up and snatched his book off the bed where he had just carelessly thrown it to the side after he came in. Merlin now though, perched himself on the edge of the bed with one of his feet tucked under him and crouched over the book. He flipped over the pages frantically, again and again until he found the one he was looking for somewhere in the middle.

He grinned when he saw it, having known he hadn't just imagined it. There was a picture of a painting hand drawn onto the side of the page, and the top read: the animation spell. Right under it was a couple of words in Latin that he had no chance of being able to properly say, but he was obviously going to try. And at the bottom of the page was an English translation that'd told him what the spell itself was supposed to do. As well as a warning under that, written in a bold red ink.

'Warning: This spell is quite advanced and should not be done by beginner's as it can drain one's magic affinity quite fast, leaving a sorcerer in a state of unconsciousness. Spell description: It gives one the ability to turn a piece of art into something living, to make life out of something that wasn't there before.'

Well, Merlin thought, he may be a beginner with spells but did it count since he'd been doing magic his whole life? And Valiant's shield, that was considered a piece of art, was it not? Somebody had to have painted the snakes on there in the first place. And maybe they had used some kind of similar spell to this one to get them to come alive. It was an interesting idea to experiment with, he probably shouldn't though. Lest another grab it up like Valiant did the shield.

And to think, Merlin thought as he started to mouth the words of the spell to himself and trying to get the punctuation just right, when he had first flipped through this book the day it had been given to him, he had considered this spell would have no use to him other than a practice spell, to test his magic. He had thought he'd have no reason to use a spell that could make animated objects come alive, it had sounded so silly when he had first seen it. But maybe that was just what he needed, a little bit of silliness to get the job done.

Merlin spent an uncomfortable amount of his time-far too many minutes than he'd wanted to spare-studying every word on that page. It felt odd, the ancient language in his mouth as he forced his tongue to twist over the strange sounds. But he did it, absorbing the spell and committing it to memory like a sponge.

Only when Merlin felt as if he couldn't have memorized it even more than he already had, he lifted his head and met eye's with the pale glass eye's set in the dog's face. "Bebay odothay." He said firmly, feeling the ancient magic in his veins start to stir up. But nothing happened.

Merlin stood up from the bed, leaving the book opened on his bedcovers before he tried again with a little more force, "Bebay odothay artisan quickum." But still, nothing happened. There wasn't a shimmer of magic or even a twitch of the statue's ears. Which just brought frustration to Merlin as he said the spell again and again over the next few hours, trying to force the spell into action.

But still, nothing happened.

Since the snakes weren't going to come out on their own, Merlin needed to use his own magic as a sort of conductor, to force them into reacting. And even though he could feel his magic pulsing under his skin, like a little heartbeat trying to force it's way out of his chest, the statue remained unchangeable.

Merlin even stood on top of the chest, trying to imitate a powerful warlock as he pointed his finger at the dog, barking his demand to get it to change, "Bebay odothay arisan quickum. Bebay odothay arisan quickum!" It still didn't move and Merlin felt his shoulders sag, nearly falling off the box when it started to wobble underneath him dangerously.

Fuck, if he couldn't even get this stupid dog statue to change, what hope did he have to force snakes out of a shield during an actual battle? ...this was much harder than he had thought it was going to be.

X

Morgana didn't know where she was at first, everything was distorted and out of place. It was enough to leave her frazzled and frantic, trying to work herself out of this fog that had formed all around her. She had been sitting on the couch in her room, she could barely remember this much as she picked through the mess that was her mind, trying to put all of the pieces together. In fact, even though she was no longer in her room, she could still feel the roar of the fires from her fireplace as the heat reached her back.

Had she fallen asleep? Was she dreaming all of this? She didn't know, and she struggled to force her way out of the fog. She wasn't able to see anything in front of her-it was just to thick and dense-and she screamed for help, for somebody to find her and get her out of here. She screamed for Uther, for Gwen, for Merlin, and even for that blasted Arthur. But her voice didn't come out nearly as loud as she had wanted it to, it was as if somebody had muffled her, leaving her to find her own way out of this dense fog.

Which she eventually did. She didn't know if she'd been looking for hours, or if it had only been mere minutes, time didn't seem to work the same in this dreamscape. Or maybe that was just her own assumptions.

But she didn't think on it for to long, letting out a breath of pure relief when the fog she'd been running through-searching through-it seemed to let up. Or at least it broke apart to allow her to see the ending. And it wasn't an ending she wanted to see.

Morgana's running slowed until she had been able to stop completely. In front of her, still shrouded by the fog, was Valiant. It was hard to believe that she had even entertained the thought of him, especially with the way he'd looked now: a snarl on his lips as his sword clang against another's. But the sound felt hollow and unsure, as if the sword's themselves didn't know rather or not they should be making a sound in this sacred space.

The stadium, that was where she was now, Morgana realized. The stadium where they held the tournaments. She recognized the big open field that was split between being covered in either grass or sand. And she'd seen the bleachers, but they were empty and not a single soul was seen. She herself wasn't even standing in the stands, she was on the field. Which should have been her first clue that this actually was a dream. She'd never been on the tourney field, she wasn't allowed to be on the field. A woman in the midst of a tourney, on a field made for men, it would have been seen as bad luck. A stupid superstition that men came up with decades ago to keep the womenfolk where they should be: which was out of the men's violent entertainment.

The fog that had parted seemed to snap closed on her before she could get out of it and confront Valiant. To confront him for what though, her mind was still to foggy to process it: for what he was doing right now? Even if she couldn't really see. For what he had done to Merlin, as the boy claimed it? But she couldn't call out to the Knight no matter how hard she tried.

Even if it was Valiant, she had just been grateful that she had seen anybody. But now she was alone again. So she started to scream herself hoarse again, the fog thick and swirling around her so tightly that she couldn't even see which way she was supposed to be going, just trying to catch a glimpse of anybody peeking through the fog.

The fog parted again, and Morgana jolted to a stop as she took in the scene before her. It made her giddy, relief and happiness washed through her as she caught sight of a familiar and comforting face. It was Merlin, but the boy looked breathless and panting, as if he had run a mile just to get to where he was. Which was the stadium, she was back at the stadium. And Merlin was hiding behind one of the stone pillars and watching what was happening out on the field. She tried to call out for him, but he acted as if he couldn't hear her.

Then Merlin was holding one of his own hands out, using the other to keep himself steady against the pillar. His mouth was forming some kind of words but Morgana wasn't able to make them out-rather because she was bad at lip reading or because she had never heard the words he used were unfamiliar to her was unclear-and the fog must have done something to her ears because she couldn't hear them either.

"Merlin!" She tried to call out to him again, but he kept saying those strange words she'd been unable to decipher, and the fog snapped to a close again before the boy had even finished speaking. To her? To somebody else? She'd probably never know. All she knew was that something had stopped her from seeing him, shielding Merlin from her sight. Was it the fog acting on its own, or was it something more powerful than her dreams.

Morgana wanted to throw herself down to the floor, to let her skirts form a protective circle around her frail body as she cried. She just wanted to go home, to get out of this weird fog and act like it never happened. Where she didn't witness Valiant attacking with his sword, to where she didn't see Merlin who may have been screaming out to whoever it was Valiant was attacking. Nothing in this dense fog was making any sense to her, and the longer she stayed the more desperate she was to get free.

The fog parted again and Morgana's head shot up at the dimmed sunlight that was no longer covered up by the milky fog. Her face was tearstained and she just knew that she had red rimming her eye's from her fear. The light, no matter how dim since it was just an imitation of the sun, was like a beaker of hope to her.

At least until she saw the next scene playing out, and her breath catches in unimaginable horror overtakes her, and she's pressing her hands to her cheeks as she screams. But her screams are muted and silent, there's nobody around to hear her anyway as she realize why Merlin was screaming in the earlier patch of fog.

It's Valiant again. Only his sword is no longer crashing against another's blade. This time he's looking down at the floor towards his feet, and he's got one foot on top of the thing beneath him, squirming and wiggling but is unable to free himself. Valiant's sword is up and poised over his head. And before she was able to work up another silent and muted scream, Valiant was bringing his the tip of his sword straight down.

Harsh and heavy, aimed right for Arthur's unprotected jugular.

-

"Arthur!" Morgana screams, loud and harsh as the noise actually wretched itself from her throat. She jolts up from where she must had fallen asleep on her couch, the sounds of her scream echoing around her is a comfort after being silenced for so long. The sound means she is awake, and Valiant hadn't killed Arthur. It was just a really weird and vivid dream. Well more of a nightmare, actually. But knowing that it was all just a dream wasn't much comfort, not as she could feel her heart trying to beat its way up and out of her throat. Her dress was even sticking to her, she'd started to sweat as the nightmare had felt so real, frighteningly real.

She'd prefer to think that she'd only started to break out in this cold, frightening sweat, was because she was situated to close to the fireplace. Even though the placement of her couch had never much bothered her before.

Morgana wretched herself off the couch, she was unable to sit there a moment more. Not when she could still feel the cold embrace of the fog encircling all around her. The fog tried to keep her prisoner, tried to keep her locked in an eternal sleep where her only access to the outside world would have been horrible and awful visions of things she hoped would never come to pass.

Morgana just had to keep telling herself that, it was just a dream. Nothing she had seen was going to happen. The fight coming up was nothing more than a simple tourney, it wasn't a fight to the death.

But the air was hot and sticky in her room, her dress was weighed down by her heavy skirts and her own perspiration sticking to her skin. Morgana goes to her windows, and puts her hand on the latch to get it to open, to feel the cold breeze of the wind against her flushed cheeks. She didn't look as if she had been crying anymore, that apparently had just been in the dream. But she still felt sticky all over.

But she stops before she can get the window to open, and she just gazed down into the courtyard where her window overlooks. It's Arthur there, at the bottom, standing over the cobblestone yard. And somehow, seeing that he was there gave her more relief than gentle breezes could have.

Arthur is safe. Valiant wasn't going to kill him come tomorrow, she kept repeating in the back of her mind like a mantra. It had all been just a dream. Arthur was going to beat Valiant in the finales and they could all move on from this horrible ordeal.

Or at least that was what Morgana kept trying to tell herself. Even as she ignored the weight in her bones that told her something wasn't right, that she was wrong to ignore this odd warning that she'd just been given.

No, she hadn't been given any warning. She hadn't seen anything more than her own subconscious fears and worries manifesting in the form of dreams. She could stand here at her window, which she would for as long as Arthur was down there, and watch over him. Watch him practice his kata's over and over again, practicing and training by himself to prepare for the upcoming fight. She was vigilant, and able to comfort herself with the thought that Arthur was still alive, and he wasn't going anywhere just because her own awful dreams had told her so.

Morgana would stand there even as the sun was starting to drop below the land. Because Arthur was still down there, not letting up for even a minute with his training. It appeared that she wasn't the only one that was worried over his own well-being.

X

Merlin leaned forward, crouching low and he was looking alert. His lips had thinned from how tightly they were pushed together, and he had a narrowed eyed star focused on the dog statue. He leaned even closer, feeling as the tip of the stone ear brushed against the bottom of his chin.

There was still no wiggling of the ears, and no blinking of the eye's. Nothing to indicate that the dog was anything more than a plain old statue.

Merlin raised his head up so that he could whisper directly into the dog's stone ear, and trying to will the power out of him, to force the transformation, "Bebay odothay artisan quickum." But nothing happened still.

Merlin slowly started to pull back, only getting half a step before he whipped his head back around to give the dog an almost suspicious look. As if he thought the dog was going to transform since he took his eye's off of it for half a second. But still, the dog's body hadn't turned to fur. There was no life's blood running through newly formed veins.

The sun was low now, nearly invisible and his room had darkened with it. This was a huge indication that Merlin had been at this for hours upon hours. He had done nothing but try to force this spell into being, to force this dog to move and become as real as himself. He had been trying to stand in every position known to man, he had tried whispering this spell and he'd tried screaming it. He'd tried to force his magic down to his fingertips so that it would come out as a physical reaction. He had tried imagining it in his head, imagining the dog shaking it's newfound fur, so harshly, intensely focused that all it did was cause his head to ache.

Standing before the statue, Merlin bellowed the spell again, demanding it to change into a creature that could walk on it's own. He was left feeling like a fool when it still didn't work.

At one point, Merlin picked back up the book and reread the spell. He tried to say it several different times-different translations-as he'd considered he may be saying the spell wrong and that was why it wasn't working. But no, it was ultimately decided that he had gotten it's punctuation right the first time. With book in hand, as if it was some kind of conductor and anchor for the spell to work, he said the spell as forcefully and as infuriatingly as he could.

It still didn't work.

In his frustration, Merlin threw his book away from him. It landed somewhere in a heap on his bed, the sheets tangling around it as the book snapped closed on it's own.

Merlin said the spell again and again after he did that. Several times in one ever-growing sentence. As if it would force the change just because he said it so many times. But as the hours dwindled by, his room growing dark as night started to fall, he started to lose what little hope he was clinging to. And he started to wonder...was it even possible for him to do the spell at all?

What if he couldn't do it? What if it wasn't working because he just didn't have the kind of magic in him needed for the spell. What if he had just wasted the end of his afternoon on a plan that was never going to work? Had never had a chance of working.

Merlin threw himself down on the bed after his book, landing on his back. His head was hanging off the side and all he could do was stare at the wall with a frustrated expression on his face.

And he started to doubt himself. What if he wasn't this 'warlock' the dragon had said. It was entirely possible that he was just a boy, he didn't have any extraordinary powers that brimmed in his veins. No more than the every day, ordinary, sorcerer at least. Nothing that made him special, more important than any other. The only thing he had going for him was being born with his magic, at least he could still say he was the only one to do that. But that also wasn't going to help him now.

Merlin wasn't a 'silent protector.' He couldn't protect Arthur, and he wasn't going to have a chance in protecting himself after Arthur was gone. The dragon had made some kind of awful mistake, had gotten him confused with some other magically inclined kid out there.

He was just a kid who didn't have a clue what he was doing, or how he had gotten into this situation.

X

Merlin knew that he shouldn't be here, knew it as well as he knew the back of his hand, he was here all the same though. Standing right outside Arthur's room, and he knew that he should just turn around and walk away. It was probably a good idea for him to go, to leave Arthur to his thoughts. But he still didn't step away, he didn't leave.

He couldn't. For some godforsaken reason, he just could not leave.

After wasting his hours away with the spell, it hadn't been long before he had noticed that night had fallen completely. The torch lights decorating the corners of the streets to light the way had all been lit. There were less and less people crowding the streets, he had only seen a couple of them returning to their own homes away from the castle.

And then he was here, hovering just outside Arthur's room, and not knowing if he should go in or not. He knew that he wasn't going to be welcome, Arthur would probably turn him away as soon as he saw him. But he still had to try, he couldn't live with himself if he didn't try.

The spell was a failure, he was a failure. And since he couldn't prove Valiant's falsehood by forcing the snake's out of their hiding place, he knew that there was only one thing he had yet to try: he had to talk Arthur into not going out there, had to convince him that it was okay to forfeit.

...This wasn't going to end well. Arthur was to stubborn and pig-headed to give up on this fight. And if he truly thought that Merlin was lying, then he would probably go out there on purpose just to prove it.

...Fuck it. He wasn't going to get anything done by standing out here in the hallway. He wasn't going to convince Arthur of anything if he was seen cowering out here. And Merlin had never coward before, he was used to doing things head-on. So that's what he did now. Before he could talk himself out of it, so that he wouldn't leave without giving this one last go, Merlin was walking into the prince's room.

Merlin caught sight of Arthur immediately, he was standing off to the side of the room, and stood directly in front of his fireplace. He was staring into the flames as if he was searching for some kind of answers that the flickering balls of warmth were unable to give. The glow of the fire seemed to be bouncing off the orange long sleeve (casual wear) that he was wearing. It almost seemed to be casting off some kind of eternal glow, made all the worse when combined with Arthur's thick blond locks.

Merlin hated himself for noticing.

But he couldn't help it, really! Arthur had his back to him, and Merlin honestly didn't know if the prince realized the 'enemy' had just entered his sanctum. He closed the door so softly behind him as he'd entered, that he'd hadn't even heard the click of the lock. He was sure that Arthur hadn't either. So he had taken the chance this presented as, to study Arthur just a little bit.

The dragon had said that Arthur was going to be-basically-one of the greatest kings in this world. And rather or not magic was going to be permitted in this world, also rested within the prince and his decisions. Is the decision to fight Valiant something that could decide rather or not magic had a place in this new world order that was supposed to happen? It was something destined to happen, or so the dragon was trying to lead him to believe. He tried to see Arthur as this great king, but it was hard when all he saw in his mind's eye was the man yelling at him for 'lying' about Valiant.

No, Arthur didn't look as if he was going to be this great king. He didn't look as if he'd be able to lead their kingdom into a new era of life, was that the right term for what the great beast had told him? He looked young, not like a person that could stand up and allow magic to rein free in a kingdom that despised it's very essence.

All Merlin could see was someone spoiled and self-centered, somebody who didn't have a clue of the struggles his own people were living with. Those who practiced magic and even those who didn't, all struggling to survive in this world while Uther sat on his golden throne and dictated what was right and what was evil. It made Merlin question how he had ever thought Arthur could he his chance for happiness, when he couldn't even see him as a friend.

But friend or not, Merlin was all Arthur had if he wanted to save himself. Rather or not he'd want to believe him, rather or not he held any trust in him, Merlin was apparently the only one that was trying to get Arthur to live. He didn't care about this tourney or this fight, it wasn't right for Arthur to go out there. To be there one minute and the next...gone.

Plus, Merlin wasn't looking forward to any of this newfound responsibility that would be heaped on him if Arthur died in the upcoming morning.

"I thought I told you to get out." Arthur spoke up, not looking away from the flames as they burst and crackled within the fireplace. It had been so soft that Merlin had to strain his ears just to hear it.

And okay, maybe he had known that Merlin had came in. Maybe Arthur had been waiting for Merlin to make the first move, just as he'd been wondering rather or not he should just leave and hope Arthur could dig himself out of the hole he'd found himself in. But he had apparently gotten impatient with waiting for Merlin to make the first move.

"...Do you happen to have any brothers?" He asked, and immediately wanted to hit himself upside the head. Merlin hadn't actually meant to say that aloud, it wasn't his fault! Really! It was Arthur for being so unconvincing as this 'prophecy king' that he couldn't help but ask this!

He felt even more of a fool when Arthur had turned to look at him. And the 'what the heck are you going on about now' look on his face was all the answer Merlin needed. So nope, it was clear now that Arthur didn't have any brothers. There wasn't another the prophecy could have been speaking about instead, and there also wasn't another Merlin could give the throne to if Arthur did bravely-dumbly-give his life for the cause.

Arthur really was an only child, like Merlin himself was.

Merlin cleared his throat without Arthur having to say anything, "Uh, nothing. Don't mind me. I'm just rambling nonsense again..." his ramblings meant that Arthur really was the man in the prophecy, the one that would create Albion and decide rather or not magic could live alongside it's inhabitants. The one that Merlin was gonna have to keep alive long enough to see this future, which was pretty hard to do if Arthur often went along into fights that were going to kill him.

Crap, he still couldn't see Arthur as this king. He also couldn't see himself sticking around long enough to keep said prince alive as to reach this predicted future. You know, on the off chance that the dragon was actually right about all of this, and he wasn't just blowing smoke out of his arse.

Arthur shook his head, making a clicking sound with his tongue as he gave the boy a once over. He really was there, standing in front of him. Arthur hadn't been sure at first, when his ears had detected the barest hint of his door clicking shut. But there was only one person who would enter his room without announcing themselves first. Not even Morris came in without knocking. "So," Arthur said softly, the air around them thick with tension and talking any louder would unsettle this delicate balance of caution between them, "Is that your way of talking to me again?"

Arthur had honestly thought he'd never see the boy again. And while that would normally be considered a good thing, Arthur had been up here wallowing in his own misery when Merlin had left after their fight about the favor. The silence he had been left with had been deafening, and he hadn't know rather he should be feeling guilty over the whole mess, or angry because Merlin had made him feel guilty. And then he'd be forced to remember the council meeting, still fresh in his mind-raw-and he'd lean more towards the side of anger.

He'd gone out to train. It usually helped to clear his head, to get him back into a proper mindset. But it hadn't worked as it usually would. His mind still felt so achingly loud, and he did feel kinda bad for ruining whatever delusions Merlin may have had about them. It was also something that had to be done! He would defend himself about that to the sweet bitter end.

But he'd been staring at his fire for at least an hour now, and the anger had all but been washed out of him as the reality of his fight happening in the morning hit him. That he may never get the chance to sit in front of this fireplace again if things went wrong. He couldn't even be angry at Merlin for being all petty and dragging the council into their own marital problems. Now that he had cooled off some, he could recognize that he would have most likely done the same-if their positions had been reversed.

Merlin let out what could have been a scoff but it was gone as soon as it came. Merlin, he decided to ignore Arthur's quip, because of something that was a bit more pressing than their earlier fight, "Are you really going to go out there and compete in the finals?" Merlin demanded, already sounding hot-mad-at the thought. He had thought Arthur was smarter than that, or at least had enough preservation as to not 'literally' throw himself straight into a den of vipers. "Are you absolutely insane!"

Arthur looked halfway over his shoulder to catch sight of the flames still crackling away within the fireplace. He didn't feel angry over Merlin yelling at him, nor did he feel sad that he was probably going to die tomorrow. Not like he should be. He just felt numb all over as he knew what was inevitable. "Maybe I am." It was the quiet answer given to Merlin. He had to be insane, just a little, with a life like his.

But for the first time in his twenty years, the prince was coming face to face with his own mortality. Sure, he knew that he was going to die sometime. He was a trained soldier, so he had been in his fair share of scrapes and had gotten through it while learning valuable skills to make sure he could protect himself. He'd had the odd assassination attempt to crop up every now and then, but he had always had the guards to keep him safe until he was old enough to know how to evade those that had tried to kill him. He'd always known that he could die-rather that be from a great battle or from something more mundane-but it had also felt like something so far into the future that he didn't need to waste his youth by thinking about it.

But this...this felt somewhat different. He'd have no backup, no way to call for it if things went wrong, nobody would be allowed to enter the tourney field until the match had been concluded. And he was going against a man who had every right to want him dead after what Arthur had just accused him of. What Merlin had gotten him to accuse the man of. Faced with his closely fading mortality, it had struck a cord inside of Arthur. He didn't even feel bitter towards Merlin-he didn't have it in him to go blaming him-for getting him into this, but that was probably because he couldn't feel anything, as numb as he was.

Merlin had almost been gearing up for one last fight between him and the prince, but the way Arthur talked seemed to sap the energy right out of him. His body sagged and his lips thinned in disgust. Merlin was the one that was supposed to be upset here! Merlin was the one who had to figure everything out, had to find a way to fix things, while Arthur just sat in his room pouting.

Merlin looked away with a scowl, "Well I won't be there." He said boldly, even as he lowered his voice to a more acceptable level, he was no longer screaming at the prince. If he was unable to convince Arthur not to go through with it, well, he didn't want to waste Arthur's last night on a pointless fight. "I'm not going to stand by and watch you go out there just to die." As if that would somehow change the blonde's mind, as if he was going to realize how stupid this all was just because Merlin wasn't going to be there.

Merlin told himself he wasn't going to go to the tourney, he swore to himself that he had better things to do. Better things than having to watch Arthur-blonde, young, and broad as well as selfish, self-centered, and spoiled, the prince of Camelot and his husband-dying in such a pointless manner. Arthur should have died the way everybody should, either old and grey if he made it that far in life, or in a huge battle and going down in a real fight. Not this kind of false fight that was meant for the people's entertainment, but was being used as just a smokescreen for Valiant's insidious murder plot.

Arthur, to his credit and with his head still pointed away from the other boy, did actually crack a grin. But it also didn't look as if he felt any true amusement in it. He didn't rise to Merlin's bait-trying to get the prince acting more like himself instead of this dull and lifeless doll-he never thought he would see the day he actually wanted Arthur to yell at him.

"Who needs you anyway." Arthur said, even though there was no actual heat behind his words. He was just going along with all of the motions, saying what he thought he should be saying. It was as if he had already given up, long before he even tried to fight for his own survival.

Merlin hated it. This wasn't the spoiled Arthur that he knew, the one who thought he was somehow better than everybody else, should be treated as better than everybody else just because he was a prince. He was just...pitiful. It was bloody awful to have to see him in such a state. Probably because Merlin knew that he could do something, that he had the power to do something to stop all of this. If only he knew how to wield it proper, if only he knew how to do it without revealing himself...if only he could get that damn statue to turn into a living dog.

"I supposed you don't," Merlin agreed with him, his voice going as soft as Arthur's had been. There was no heat in his voice either, it was surprisingly calm even though neither of them should be calm right now. Arthur was probably going to die and Merlin was going to be left to deal with the pieces. But still, Merlin couldn't help but think of how much he hated that the only reason they weren't fighting was only because they both knew Arthur wasn't going to live pass tomorrow. "You don't need anybody but yourself."

He didn't need Merlin, there was no point in Merlin being here. He hadn't wanted Merlin's help during the council meeting, Merlin had interjected himself into it. He hadn't wanted Merlin to help him with his armor that first day-even though it was tradition for consorts to do it-and had only agreed when it became apparent that time was short and he couldn't stand there arguing over it. He definitely did not want Merlin's help now, not that Merlin would be able to give him any because the simple truth was...Merlin didn't know what to do. The council meeting hadn't worked, his spell wasn't working, and now he was here with no other options.

Merlin didn't want to be left with the kingdom after Arthur's death. He didn't want to have Valiant wandering around a castle that should belong to Arthur. He didn't want Arthur's death hanging over his head, knowing that he could have done something...anything! To stop this from happening.

Arthur sounded tired, more weary than any twenty year old had the right to be when he said, "I don't have time for another argument with you." It had been one argument after another since the day they had met. From the very moment Merlin had thrown that first punch at him, setting the tone for how the relationship between them was going to be. But if this was truly going to be his last night, then he wasn't going to spend it arguing. He would just like to sit here in front of the fire, and think miserably of all the things that had led to this moment.

Merlin appeared to feel the same way as he gave a heavy sigh, sounding just as weary as Arthur did. And then he was striding across the room so that he could stand next to the blonde in front of the fireplace. Arthur stared at the roaring flames, while Merlin stared at him, both of them awashed in the golden flames. "I'm not here to argue with you." He said, looking solemn and speaking quiet, as if speaking any louder would ruin the tenuous position they were in. "I don't care about the favor, or that...that girl..." Merlin hated that he still kind of cared, but it also paled with what was going to happen come morning. "I just...I need...you can't go out there and fight him."

There, he had said it. And Merlin absolutely hated how it had sounded when he had. As if he was pleading with Arthur to just, for once, listen to him. To forget going out there and to stay in here, in this room...with him. There'd be no girl to steal Arthur's attention, no favor lying about as far as Merlin could see that'd be another cause of friction. They could just stay here, and pretend the two weeks they've been married-fighting-had never happened.

Arthur didn't share the same sentiments as he did, "Why?" He asked in a bitter tone as he never took his eyes off the crackling fire as the wood made popping sounds. "Afraid I'll beat your boyfriend?"

Because trust Merlin to have a boyfriend, to be with the guy that was going to most likely try his hardest to end Arthur in the morning. He couldn't even bring himself to be pissed off if Merlin really was seeing Valiant in secret like he had once considered. He wasn't even able to bring himself to be angry that Merlin had shown up in his life and just ruined... everything. He couldn't even be embarrassed that others may see Merlin with another, and think Arthur was lacking in something.

Although, even if it was only in the recesses of the back of his mind, he could admit to himself that he didn't want to be alone. That he didn't want to spend his last night on this earthly plane alone. Even if it was just Merlin, at least he wasn't alone.

"He's not my boyfriend." Merlin said firmly, his blue eyes serious. Because Merlin didn't have a boyfriend, he had never before had a boyfriend and he probably never would. No, it wasn't the boyfriend he'd thought he'd have someday. But he did have a husband, he was the live consort of the one person who hated him. And he knew that the prince needed him even though he would not ever admit it-even if he didn't know what he could do to be needed, to feel as if he was needed. But Merlin would be here, rather Arthur wanted him to be or not.

Arthur finally drew his eyes away from those crackling flames so that he could look at him, really look at him, and he sighed, "I know." He admitted. He hadn't seriously thought that he was. He could see enough truth in Merlin's eyes to know that he didn't have any actual interest in Valiant. Clearly, Merlin had been just using the man like he used Arthur. He'd used Valiant as a tool to get back at Arthur for the favor. Arthur may even respect Merlin for being so underhanded and sneaky-Arthur had definitely not seen it coming-if he wasn't caught up in the repercussions of what was happening next: his father's look of having a failure as a son, and Valiant probably trying to seek out revenge for claiming some kind of false assault. "...Have you seen him since?"

Arthur didn't know why he wanted to know all of a sudden. But he did. Had Merlin sought out the other man after Arthur had accused him of using the council meeting as payback for the favor? Or had he been doing the same thing that Arthur was, musing over all of his life choices.

With Arthur looking at him now, it was Merlin who turned his head to watch the flames as they danced in the fireplace, "No." he said in a soft tone. He hadn't seen hair nor hide of Valiant, it was concerning and made him start to wonder what the other knight had been doing all this time. "He's been quiet, it makes me worried that he's planning something."

For all Merlin knew, Valiant had found some place to work out the master details of this plan of his. He was probably out there right now, starving his snakes so that they would be ready to eat Arthur. To bite him, at least, make them even more vicious with their own hunger. Or maybe he was gloating, enjoying some kind of nightcap as Arthur and Merlin waited for the hours to tick by and for their time to run out.

Arthur nodded, but there was also something off about his expression, something that had caught Merlin's attention even though it was gone as fast as it appeared.

Merlin straightened his spine and forced his shoulders back as if he was gearing up for a fight, "Do you still believe that I'm lying?" He demanded. Because Merlin hadn't been lying at all, he had told the god-honest truth about it. Valiant was carrying around a magic shield and he had assaulted Merlin. Arthur had once believed him, had been acting weird because he was trying to-protect?-Merlin. But those times were over, because Uther had gotten into his head. He made Arthur think, far too easily, that Merlin was the problem. And then Arthur had drawn his own conclusions, had the nerve to accuse Merlin of doing all of this for some misguided payback for the favor incident.

Arthur stiffened his own shoulders, some of that bit of numbness he'd been feeling easing away under Merlin's offense, "I do." He said firmly. There were just too many things that made his theory sound. Like how none of this stuff had cropped up until right after Arthur had switched the favors even though it had apparently started beforehand.

It didn't matter how sincere Merlin was able to make himself look. Arthur wasn't going to fall for those mind tricks again. He wasn't going to fall for Merlin's stupid eyes making him believe his gut over his mind. Clearly, in this case, his gut instant had been wrong and he was going to pay the price for it.

Merlin didn't care, he didn't care if Arthur didn't believe him. As long as Arthur didn't fight. "Believe what you want!" Merlin said in a wild tone. "I will go in front of the council myself and tell them I lied if that's what you want me to." Merlin was practically ready to cement his place as a liar in the eyes of the court, if only he had Arthur to argue with for years to come. "Just don't fight Valiant in the tournament tomorrow. I know that you don't believe me about any of it-" the shield, nor his assault. "But he will use the shield against you, and you will die."

He wasn't here to convince Arthur the truth of anything. Arthur didn't have to believe him, he just had to...had to trust him enough to know that Merlin knew what he was saying. It wasn't just a possibility-it was a fact-Merlin knew that Valiant was going to take a chance and kill Arthur while he still could. And this tourney was the perfect opportunity to get away with it. Everybody's guard was going to be down as it was supposed to be a day for fun. Not a day to mourn as the kingdom loses it's only prince and fell into turmoil.

Arthur didn't argue back, he didn't make up excuses and reasons as for why he thought Merlin was lying to him again. He turned his gaze back on the flames, watching as if was hypnotized by the way the fire bounced off the stones of the fireplace. "I know." He said.

Even if Merlin had lied about the shield, even if there was nothing magical about it, he was smart enough to know that Valiant wasn't just going to let his accusations die along with the council meeting. He was still going to make an attempt on Arthur's life, and while Arthur was capable of defending himself, something about Valiant made his hair stand on end. As it had when he had first seen Valiant all those days ago during the first round's.

"Then withdraw!" Merlin practically begged him, taking a few steps closer. "You have to withdraw!" And even though his voice was no louder than how they had been talking this whole time, he was practically screaming at him with his eye's.

Because how could anybody be willing to lose their life over a fight? Was it pride? Was that it? Did Arthur somehow think it made him less of a man if he told the court, no. I'm not going out there and I'm not going to do this fight.

If only Arthur would listen to him, if only he wasn't so stubborn and could see what was right in front of him. If only he bloody trusted Merlin to be trying to do the right thing.

But Arthur just shook his head at him, "I can't do that." And his voice sounded final, as if no matter how much Merlin pleaded, Arthur was still going to fight. He was still going to go out there and die in such a pointless way. Was it to prove some kind of point to Merlin, to prove that there would be no snakes showing up in mid-battle.