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!

95. Chapter 95

"…Stop bloody looking at me like that already, and say something!" Arthur growled, digging his fingers deeper into Merlin's biceps where he was grabbing at him. He was agitated, not liking the silent way Merlin was staring down his nose at him. As if Arthur would be the one stepping out of line, rather than the other way around. One would think, after all this time, the prince would finally be pleased that Merlin seemed to realize staying quiet was the thing Arthur had wanted from him all this time. But…this reminded Arthur how Merlin had been behaving when he had first walked into his room and approached him with all of this. It had been odd then, and it was odd now. Though, the whole situation was even more odd, with how much discontentment he could see raising in Merlin's eyes and reflecting up at him. Arthur didn't like that, didn't like it at all. He wanted to see the fire in Merlin's eyes as Arthur pushed him past his limits, wanted to hear whatever would go spewing from Merlin's mouth the second Arthur had shoved him over that edge. Arthur wanted Merlin to give him a reason to punish him for his bad behavior. Not this…this… "I'm talking to you! Are you so dimwitted, that you can't understand any of what I'm telling you!"

Arthur half expected for Merlin to allow the sword he had dangling from his fingertips, dropping straight to the floor and probably scraping up the metal. But, it got better, when Arthur finally saw a hint of life-just a brief spark of heat and energy-coming into Merlin's eyes. Something tight in Arthur's shoulders loosened up just a little, and his fingers gripped Merlin onto the right side of just a little too painful. He wondered how easily did Merlin bruise, if Arthur would find someday that Merlin bruised easier than a peach. Would Merlin take his jacket off later that night, and discover that Arthur had left him a few parting marks. Had gripped him so hard, not even his jacket would've been able to stop the damage from showing…

"You aren't talking to me." Merlin corrected the other man, trying to jerk his arms out of Arthur'a grip. Only for the prince to tighten his fingers around him, and Merlin could almost feel the pommel of the sword he held heating up. The magic within him stirring quite restlessly, and it took real strength for Merlin to not allow a fireball to form directly in his hand. Merlin had conjured fire before, whenever he needed to light up a hearth. He had even made fun shapes and figures in the firelight, allowing them to dance and be free in a way that he never could. But a fireball…that would have been a new one for him. Designed to be made as a weapon against Arthur, rather than something he needed. "You are yelling at me. You may not have the brains to see it, but there is a difference in there somewhere. And I am done listening to any of it."

Arthur felt his fingers loosening up their grip on the other boy's arms, a little bit more than stunned when hearing exactly what Merlin had to say to him. He'd been asking to hear something stupid coming from the boy's mouth, but even he hadn't been expecting how stupid the words were. Merlin was done listening to him? What did that even mean. Arthur was the one who decided what happened between them, where it happened exactly, and just how far Arthur was willing to push things with Merlin. Merlin didn't get a say in any of it. That was the whole point of being punished in the first place, not liking it. If Arthur wanted too, he had every right to stand here and lecture the boy for everything he had done wrong since they day they'd met. Even rehashing through old issues if he felt the urge too. And Merlin was meant to stand there, and listen to it all. Because lecturing was not yelling, the prince only yelled when Merlin did something he felt was particularly dumb. It wasn't his fault that Merlin was dumb pretty much every time he opened up his lips.

"Now if you excuse me," Merlin drawled out, the bit of fire that attracted Arthur's attention to him since that first day Merlin had tried to throw a poorly aimed punch at him, still lingering in his eyes. "I would very much like to get back to what I was doing before you interrupted me." And Merlin shook off Arthur's hands as the grip had loosened just enough for the consort to free himself without too much of a struggle. It was clear though, that Merlin probably would have kicked at him-for the umpteenth time since they'd met, and Arthur was only amazed he didn't have a permanent mark from the assaults on his shins…or how he was pretty sure his groin was still in working order after Merlin's wild kick to his groin that one time-because the other boy wasn't asking him for his permission.

Merlin was telling him exactly what he was going to do. It wasn't the first time Merlin had tried being the boss, and expecting Arthur to follow along with what stupidity he had thought of this week. But it always shocked him when it happened. Arthur didn't like the way Merlin thought he was the one in charge. Merlin should be in a constant state of worshipping down at his feet, grateful that Arthur had-as of yet-spared the boy from the powerful stinging of his whip. Not many people could cross Arthur, and get away without any kind of repercussions for this long…

Arthur saw Merlin when he lifted the sword back to the muck beast's neck, fitting the blade into the little grove he had made when he had first started hacking at it. The prince grabbed onto his bicep before Merlin could start sawing at it like some kind of uneducated barbarian, "You are going to tell me exactly what you think you're doing with my stuff. And if I am feeling a tad bit merciful, I might allow you to continue." Which was a total lie on Arthur's part. He had absolutely no desire to see what Merlin thought he was doing with his sword. He looked like a bloody ax-cutter, one of the men who walked into the woods and cut down all of the trees with their saws to make more space for homes. Or to collect the wood to light up the hearths of the kingdom. A sword should never be used like a common, every day saw. It was disrespectful towards the weapon, as well as the man-him-who would use this weapon later.

Merlin sniffed at him, and Arthur once again got the impression that Merlin thought he was doing nothing but wasting his time. When in reality, that little brat should just be grateful Arthur hadn't wrenched the sword out of his fingers left. Bruising the other boy's knuckles from his own rough handling, equal to the roughness Merlin was showing his own weapon. And god, did Arthur want to show Merlin what happened to people who didn't respect weapons properly. If he was the king, Merlin would have already been carted off to the cells where he would spend the rest of his limited days being hung by his thumbs to the cooling stone walls.

"For one thing, I don't exactly trust that your father is going to go along with our word on what happened in here just now." Merlin said stiffly, jerking his arm once again out of Arthur's hold. He swore, if Arthur put his hands on him one more time, he was going to forget all about holding himself back. And this sword would find a new home in Arthur's gut, where it should have been the very first time Arthur had done one thing to him that he didn't like. Besides, Arthur was being just a bit 'too' peculiar with this sword of his. As powerful as it may have made Merlin feel for a moment, it was nothing but a hunk of metal. But, Merlin supposed, it was something to use for somebody who'd never get to feel the rush of magic as it flooded throughout his veins and poured out of every single cell inside of his body. Sometimes, it amazed even him that not even a single person was able to see the magic that he often felt so acutely. "So I'm going to bring him proof what we tell him is true. So, he can't ignore it. Can't brush it aside. And most definitely, cannot cover it up, and act as if Gwen is still the guilty party."

Merlin would honestly not put it past the king to try and hide all of this from the people. Most likely so it wouldn't be known how epically he'd screwed up, by sentencing the wrong girl. And sure, maybe his friend had looked guilty after Merlin left the poultice behind in her house. But if they had only dig a little deeper in the story, they would have found plenty of holes and the odd question that would cast doubt across all of it. And from what little Merlin had interacted with the king of Camelot, it really did sound like something he would do. To save his own wounded pride, and forget the girl that would suffer because of it. The king was the type of man who would say 'to hell with her' and let her burn because he couldn't swallow his pride to admit he'd been wrong. It was a trait that Arthur had seemed to inherit, too stubborn for his own good. It had definitely not don't anything to endure Merlin to the Pendragon family of Royals.

"That…that's the king you're taking about!" The other man exclaimed, ready to defend his father straight to the bitter end, if he had too. He knew, once he had a chance to explain things to his father, he would allow the girl to go. They had better things to do with the running of their kingdom, than to hold a girl hostage over this…unfortunate…misunderstanding. A simple misunderstand that had almost cost a life, but still a misunderstanding nonetheless. Arthur knew his own father was a hard man, but what did Merlin expect. It was hard running a kingdom. But surely the consort did not think his father was so cold as to continue on with this execution after they what had discovered in these caves. "And he might not listen to you, but he'll listen to me."

Arthur didn't have a doubt in his mind, his father was going to pull through on this. There was no reason to have Merlin deprecating his sword, while also having the great honor of shocking the king. What did Merlin plan on doing, just dropping the beast's disembodied head at his feet? That thing barely resembled having a head at all in the first place, being burned to a crisp had done a real number on it. But it was still vaguely head shaped, Arthur supposed considering, if he was going to tilt his head sideways. And squinted through one of his eyes…and then closed the other…then the prince could definitely see the resemblance to once having a head…at least the thing still had it's stone-like teeth in position. Unlike his sword, the head had gotten the full brunt of the explosion. And the stones had been melded straight into the muck. One would never a pickax and slam into it a dozen or so times to get it to loosen up.

Merlin wasn't nearly as confident in Arthur's faith in his father, and his expression said how stupid he was thinking Arthur was. "Really?" The consort made sure to drag out the word, Arthur once again bristling with it, even as it caused a surge of heat to shoot straight up his spine. He was infuriated, obviously, that Merlin could continue to have such a smart mouth on him at the moment, with the beast still dead directly at their feet. It almost made Arthur wonder rather or not any whipping or flogging or tying up, would be enough to cage somebody like Merlin down. Or if he would have no choice but to think of much more…extreme things to do to him. "You think your father is going to listen when you tell him there is a magical beast that's lived in the water for days now? You think he's going to let Gwen go because 'you' claim it to be true? But just in case you've forgotten, I'm currently a fugitive at the moment. And I'm not taking the risk of going in there without something to back me up. How much do you want to bet he'll somehow convince himself that I've done sorcery next, and that's the story he'll feed off to the people when I'm the one being executed."

Merlin already knew there wasn't a stone's chance in hell, that he would trust Arthur with this. He actually thought Arthur's work here was done and over with, so he could just fuck off and wait outside the council chambers or something until Merlin got there lugging the head under his arm. Merlin had gotten what he'd wanted from Arthur, his fucking alibi. But for all he'd know, Arthur might crumble like wet parchment and let things fall where they may. So yeah, Merlin wasn't going anywhere without this head. So he could have some kind of insurance that Gwen would be able to get off the hook. And Merlin wouldn't be put back on it in her place. It wasn't like Uther was honorable and kept his word. The man had made Merlin the fugitive, for crying out loud!

"My father wouldn't-" Arthur started again, sounding as if he was on repeat mode. But, he cut himself off when he saw Merlin's unimpressed 'just try me right now, bitch' expression, and stopped to think for one moment. Merlin was definitely an enigma, and looked to be two seconds away from cursing out the king to his face, and it was probably lucky Uther wasn't here at the moment. Not with the bitchy mood Merlin was in. Arthur didn't know what made him do it, since he would usually be tackling Merlin right about now, to do more weird things to him. Maybe it was Morgana's ever present form frowning at them from behind, or it was Merlin glaring at him. Or maybe Arthur had gone and finally decided to say 'fuck it all.' But he stepped back. Arthur Pendragon actually stepped back so his consort could have more space to work with. Instead of pressing forward and wrenching the sword into his own hands. "Okay, just do it. Make it quick though, or do I have to show you how to handle a sword again?"

Arthur really hoped he wouldn't regret this sudden and split decision making-he could always beat the brat's arse once everything was said and done, since he was sure nobody would come looking for them as celebrations were being underway-but from the look on Merlin's face, he was sure he would. It was almost cocky and fierce, once again daring Arthur to try and pry the blade out of his finger's. Which was definitely something Arthur should be doing, if any of the other knights had just seen Arthur-gag-give permission, to allow Merlin to use his personal weapon…it would've been yet another thing to spread among the city. Or just among the knights, in this case, as most others would not be able to understand how significant this was. Good god, Arthur decided only seconds later as his belly lurched, Merlin was going to end up with his hand cut off, wasn't he? Arthur couldn't go and have a cripple punished!

But before Arthur could declare he had changed his mind, and snatch the sword out of hand, Merlin was glaring at him again, "Show me how to use a sword, did you? If I remember, you got mad about something stupid and stormed off after beating the shit out of me." Merlin was talking about that very first training session they'd done, back when his father had been encouraging-more like forcing-Arthur to spend time in public with his consort. So Arthur had taken him to the least foot traffic stretch of ground they had, took his sword to Merlin more times than he would be able to count, and then stormed off afterwards.

Arthur couldn't even remember what they had fought about that time. Merlin was probably right-annoying cheeky boy who was more right than Arthur wanted to admit-about it being something stupid. But Arthur would be adamant that it would have obviously been all Merlin's fault. Before Arthur had the chance to tell Merlin this though, Merlin was lifting the sword up as if it was an ax, and bringing it back down to the beast neck. And Arthur cringed, his fingers tightening with horror at the clumsy way it was done. The sword had sunk in a little deeper than the first time, so he knew Merlin would at least be making process if he would keep going. Arthur watched as Merlin pushed down on the sword, trying to force it down into the muck to get the head off completely. Arthur watched this for far longer than he wanted too, seeing Merlin grunting and pushing down harder on the handle, bending to put his full weight against it.

Maybe it was just Arthur, but…had Merlin been that little before? Sure, Arthur had always known that the consort was a small man, but it was hard to see since Merlin's personality was so large. But not height wise though, Arthur was still annoyed about that inch the consort had on him. But body mass wise, the width of his shoulders has to be half the broadness that the prince's was-forged and strengthens by the intensive training he'd been doing for years. The sword barely suck down an inch, even with Merlin's body mass on it, forcing the sword down. Or maybe the muck was just that thick…Merlin gave another loud grunt as he forced the sword down another inch, the sword not halfway through the muck. It was nearing the bottom, but still had a few inches left to go.

Another grunt…and Arthur sharpened his eyes down on Merlin like a lion would when watching the gazelle grazing in a clearing. Surely Merlin could be silent as he did it? There was no reason for him to go making …making noises like that! Especially in front of Lady Morgana. Those noises were entirely inappropriate, and-Arthur rolled his jaw in agitation brew inside of him, it had never really left, but it seemed to return to him full force as Merlin gave a particularly sharp and much louder grunt as he forced the sword down one more inch-should not be made within the presence of a lady. If Merlin was going to make those kinds of noises, then…Arthur took pity on himself, before he allowed his eyes to trail over Merlin's wiggling form in front of him. Until they landed on the lower half of his body…he would just have to give Merlin something to grunt about…

"Do you almost have it, Merlin?" Morgana called out to his consort softly, a bit more calmer and less riled up now that the two had stopped fighting. Not that it was a temporary truce, but Arthur could take just one moment to think of the different ways he could make Merlin grunt like that again. Like…was that grunt the only way Merlin grunted? Would he do it exactly the same way he was now, as Arthur was ripping Merlin's arse into a new color? Or would different angles, and different speeds, or even the harshness of the blows, effect it? Arthur found himself almost desperate with wanting to know the kind of sounds he would be able to force out of Merlin. His blood pulsed and throbbed inside of him, going red hot at being able to see what different sounds Merlin would make…

"Almost." Merlin grunted, pausing for just a minute to stretch himself out, before going back to the pushing of the sword. Morgana hummed in response, and the prince glanced over at her. It was only meant to be a single glance, before turning back around to see the damage Merlin was inflicting onto his blade. But the prince stopped, and had to do a sudden double take towards the lady. Morgana was no longer focusing on lecturing him-her corset no longer all twisted up and getting into Arthur's business-but that was probably because she was now focused surely on Merlin. And-Arthur had to follow her gaze just to make sure he'd not imagined it-and he could feel his face going far redder than it had ever before. Even all the times the consort had been involved, and made Arthur flush…it would pale in comparison to what red he now bore.

Because Morgana was staring at Merlin's bottom. At the bottom that was now facing them, as Merlin was forcing it to be hiked up as he bent over to put more of his weight on the sword. The bottom that was now wiggling, the sight more indecent that Arthur realized before, as Merlin concentrated on what he was doing right now. And Merlin had no bloody idea. He had no idea that Morgana was staring at him, or that he was going to drag the eyes of everybody onto him if he'd done such a thing in public. Arthur clenched his jaw down tightly, surely Merlin wasn't nearly so stupid as to not realize the sight he was making! This sounded more like Merlin trying to taunt him, wiggling around his arse as if to say Arthur would never put the sting of his lash against the rounded cheeks. But…fuck it, who was Arthur kidding. Merlin really was that stupid, and would have no idea that some people-not Arthur, of course. But a straight woman like Morgana-would see something completely different. When it should be looked at with innocent nativity.

"…Okay, that's enough." Arthur said loudly, far more louder than he meant to be realized, when Morgana whipped his head around to look at him confused as Merlin stilled along the bottom half of his sword. But it was no matter, they could all just deal with it. Since Morgana had still been staring Merlin down before he had spoken, it was Arthur's bloody duty to see that it was over. And protect Merlin's fucking modesty, and his stupid innocence, from the bad thoughts one may get when they had a wondering eye. He shot the lady an annoyed look, and Morgana only frowned at him in confusion, as if she didn't very well know what Arthur was so agitated about this time. "I think you're done with this pathetic excuse you call trying. Just let me do it already."

The words spilled from Arthur's lips with an almost cruel abandonment, clearly trying to save face. The brat didn't deserve any gentleness from him after all of this. The straw that broke the camel's back, so to speak. After all, if Merlin wasn't so dumb with things like this, he would know better than to do things that would attract attention towards his neither regions. It was a pretty sure thing that he wouldn't see Morgana ogling him the same way she was trying to do to that stupid consort of him. Arthur strode forward, with all of the confidence of a man protecting another-while cursing his very existence in his mind-and there was no hesitance when Arthur reached out and grabbed Merlin by his bicep. With every intention of dragging him up from that stupid position he had all but folded himself into.

"Not a chance!" Merlin exclaimed loudly, wrenching his arm free from Arthur's grasp. And let's just say, it was a really good thing Arthur's sword was buried to the hilt in clay, or Arthur would have already started bleeding from his belly wound after Merlin stabbed him for once again putting hands on him. The touch was revolting, and Merlin caused his inability to drag the sword out of the clay. It was much harder to get it back out, and be fast enough to attack before the prince realized what he was doing, then it had been just pushing down. "I might have more brains, then I do brawn, but I can get this sword down on my own!"

Merlin was adamant about doing this without Arthur getting in his way. It was bad enough that the prince thought he had 'saved Merlin' from the big, bad, and terrible beast. But it was even worse to think Arthur thought he couldn't push a bloody sword down hard enough to break the head off. Merlin wanted to show Arthur, wanted to shove in his face that yes, he could actually do something. Even if it was something that was as simple and as stupid as taking the head off of this beast. If Arthur couldn't acknowledge him taking the beast out and setting it aflame, then he would be bloody noticing that Merlin was far more stubborn in this situation than Arthur ever would be. And once it was over, then Arthur could just go back to whatever he was doing before the crisis had forced them both into action.

Arthur huffed out a little annoyed breath through his nose, making sure to plant himself between Morgana and Merlin, just in case she was still trying to get her looks in, "Don't be stupid! Just let me do it already!" The prince snapped at him. It was a 'killing two birds with one stone' kind of situation. Not only would the prince get Morgana's eyes off of his consort, he was able to get Merlin's hands off of his sword as well. He didn't hesitate to act, knowing Merlin could be even more stupid than usual when he was being stubborn like this, and wrapped both hands snugly underneath Merlin's arms, dragging him back against his chest to jerk him up.

Merlin reacted immediately, screaming obscenities at Arthur as he wiggled restlessly against him. And then he dropped, his arms still thrown up over his head as he tried to use his dead weight to drag Arthur down with him. It was almost near impossible to carry any person when they used this method. And it may have worked on Arthur as well, forcing him to let Merlin go and leaving him free to attack again, if Merlin wasn't so light. It was almost too easy to lift him away from the sword, and Arthur wrapped one of his arms right around Merlin's waist, intent on dragging him to the cave wall and commanding him to stay there while he took care of the head. Like a dog who needed to be taught basic commands before he got shot with an arrow after his violent behavior was mistaken for the rabies. It would keep Merlin away from Morgana, and allow Arthur to keep an eye on him while he took care of the head.

"Get. Off. Of. Me!" Merlin finally shouted, when the consort realized his plan had failed. He threw himself into the fight as hard as he could, throwing his elbow out to try and smash Arthur in the eye. But he'd done nothing more than flailing around, and somehow was able to miss Arthur's big head entirely. He kicked out angrily, his foot connecting harshly against Arthur's blade, the sword jerking sharply at the sudden move.

"Hey!" Arthur shouted as he saw this, tightening his arms sharply around Merlin's belly and nearly taking the wind out of the consort. His eyes connected onto his sword, and his eye twitched violently. This would be exactly what he got, for allowing Merlin to touch his sword in the first place. It would be an honest-to-god, miracle if Merlin hadn't ruined the metalwork at this point. "Don't do that! You're going to dent it!"

It would be hard, Arthur decided, to explain to the Royal blacksmith, exactly how his sword had ended up so damaged. It wasn't uncommon for a sword to get nicks and scraps and rust and ruin over the years that passed. Just a hazard of the dangerous job of a knight, but it wasn't usually anything that couldn't be buffed out by his manservant. It wasn't as strange for his manservant to have hands on his sword, as it was only for cleaning purposes and promptly returned to Arthur before he had a chance to miss it. But having it be covered in literal dents would be the worse thing to happen when it came to his sword. He would have to either lie and say he was doing stupid things with it, making himself look incompetent. Or he'd have no choice but to tell the truth, and allowing somebody to know-somebody who knew how sacred the sword of a knight's was-that he'd handed it off to Merlin…let's just say, Arthur would rather be seen as if he was the incompetent one.

"Would you rather I dent your bloody sword!" Merlin shouted as he continued to squirm and fight against Arthur's hold, thrashing as if he thought his life was depending on it. Which was a far more effective sort of tactic than dropping dead had been, considering Arthur had more trouble holding onto him with all of the wild bucking Merlin was doing. Arthur's fingers went taut, tightening in Merlin's shirt to stop himself from dropping him directly onto his arse, bruising his bottom in a way Arthur hadn't been envisioning. "Or would you rather I just go ahead and dent your huge, bloody head!"

Merlin would do it, too, his blood thrumming around in his veins as he struggled away. Morgana screamed something incoherently at Arthur, but Merlin wouldn't have been able to hear what it was if he tried. He was finding it hard to hear anything over the huff of awful breath hitting the curve of his ear, or his anger nearly making him see red. Arthur took an unsteady step to back away, and Merlin kicked out frantically, far more determined than ever to be the one to do this. Merlin yelled out, as his foot hit against the sword again. But unlike the first time Merlin had hit it, there was a loud snap that made everybody freeze.

Sort of like a cracking sound, only much louder. Like a statue being dropped from a window on the second floor and shattering into millions of pieces after it had hit the ground. And all three of them watched it when the sword hit the ground, landing on it's side with this loud clatter that echoed throughout the cave. And as pieces of hardened clay flaked off from the body, the head itself rolled until it stopped directly at their feet. It was completely severed from it's body, leaving this head free to be picked up and moved around at their own discretion.

There was a moment of silence where everybody had stared down at the disfigured head. It was broken up only when Arthur dropped Merlin, allowing the boy to go free, even if it caused Merlin to stumble for a brief second before he regained his footing. Merlin didn't even turn around to try and punch Arthur, nor did he whip around and start cursing him out as loud as he could. Nor did he dove down for the sword, now that it was free and more movable than it had been when it was stuck in the muck. He could only stare down at the head, before a slow bubble of elation started to build up in his belly. It hadn't exactly been the way he had planned to go about it, but it was Merlin's foot that had kicked it. Which meant it was Merlin-and not Arthur-who'd done it. Arthur could take his credit for killing the beast, Merlin didn't have any choice but to allow Arthur too. But Merlin would be the one to carry the beast's head before the king.

Merlin couldn't have stopped himself if he wanted, whipping his head around to give Arthur the biggest and most widest, cheekiest, grin he had ever given to the prince, "I told you that I would be able to get that job done!" He didn't even care that he was smiling at the prince, the person who had made his life far more destructive and horrific in these last two months then any other could have. For once, Merlin wanted to feel the bubble of joy that had been denied to him during these past two months. It felt good, to feel the small bit of joy flooding through his veins. He had always taken this feeling for granted back home. Don't get him wrong, things hadn't always been so great back home. Hiding who he was…some of the things that he would hear people saying to him-the weird child, the bastard boy without a father, the one who would always be caught but never discovered as he tried to lie his way out of things-but that had been his life. It was the only thing he had ever known. But he'd been happy…content…not a day went by where he didn't have Will there to cheer him up or make him laugh at the most ridiculous of things. Or his mother there to hold him, tell him things would be alright. He just had to give it time, and hope there was a time where the people like him would be welcomed in the world. But he hadn't know how much worse things could get till he had came here, where he didn't have that kind of connection or community like what he had with the people he'd known his whole life. He was starting to form a few bonds-with Gaius, and Morgana, and as well as Gwen-but they were still far off from what he had available at home.

So yes, Merlin wanted to experience this rare burst of joy before it would be cruelly snatched away from his grasp far too soon.

And as for Arthur…Arthur could do nothing but stare at his consort in utter shock. Eyes so wide they were nearly falling out of his head, and something inside of him warmed, his blood churning with this new kind of heat he couldn't understand. Merlin looked…happy. It was a strange happiness he hadn't been expecting to see. Merlin had this stupid little flush across his face, leaving him to be almost glowing. And his teeth…the prince was startled to notice-even more startled later on when he would realize he had noticed at all-were much straighter than the average peasant's. Most of the peasants had already lost a few teeth by the time they were Merlin's age, or didn't know how to clean or maintain them properly so they were always more on the stained side. But not Merlin's…he looked as if he took care of himself. Arthur swallowed reflectively, and it was only then that he decides he was going to need a goblet of water brought straight to his room once he finally managed to retire for the rest of the day. Maybe the day's activities were finally starting to get to him, because his mouth felt abnormally dry…

X

It was surprisingly easy for the group of three to make their way back to the throne room, where they knew the king would be waiting. As he always would be nowadays, waiting for his reports of what's going on in the lower town be given to him on this hourly basis. It was probably around lunchtime by this point and nobody was around, servants squirreled away in the seeing quarters as they ate their meals before it was time to get back to work. Nobles hidden in their own chambers, and knights spread thin with the lack of their presence being incredibly obvious. Morgana was trailing behind the two men, steps just as bound and determined as any of them. Arthur was walking ahead of the group, already in a prissy mood-his dirt caved sword, blade now dull but surprisingly wasn't broken back in it's place strapped directly to his side -because his consort had died him the pleasure he'd get from presenting the head to his father himself.

And Merlin…Arthur glanced back over his shoulder at him for the millionth time since they'd left the caves-was still glowing with that ridiculous grin on his lips, proudly holding the head underneath his arm. What was Merlin so freaking happy about. Okay, so maybe they had killed the beast, and maybe Merlin's stupid friendship with Gwen was going to live to see another day, but they still had his father to think about. None of this was over just because the people wouldn't be dying any longer. They still needed to spread across the word that the sickness was over. Reopen all the gates, call their men left on the outside to maintain the situation back inside, allow the servants to return to their homes. See that anybody still sick would get the proper medical treatment from Gaius. Now that they were no longer drinking the water itself, maybe those who were already affected but had not yet had the misfortune of passing over, there was something that could be done. So clearly, there was absolutely no time to be walking around with that stupidly goofy expression on his face.

It was going to be a lot of hard work to do. Arthur did not even know when he was going to have the time to punish Merlin for running into danger like he had in the caves. Simply knocking him around on the head a time or two obviously wouldn't do, nor did he think it was a lesson that would stick. Merlin's punishment to it, had to be something a bit more…heavy handed. It was far more than Arthur cared to think about at the moment, feeling his shoulders sag in exhaustion as they finally came to the throne room doors.

Arthur stopped just long enough-he didn't want the moron to start asking him stupid questions, like why he wasn't just barging in when they had important news to spread-to straighten out his shoulders and make it look as if he hadn't been up for at least thirty six hours or so. It certainly felt that long, if Arthur had to gauge a time. He couldn't remember the last time he had slept in his bed for more than five hours, and most of the time had been simply power naps taken at his desk. But, no matter. Arthur could sleep all he wanted after this…Arthur pushed opened the grand doors to the throne room, making their very presence known almost immediately.

"Sire!" Arthur announced to his father as he strode in the room with the confidence befitting his status. He saw the king was sitting on his throne chair, but was now straightening up at the prince's unexpected and sudden entrance. Arthur could also see why the king had no knights guarding the doors- which was a very unusual thing for the paranoid king-was because he had at least five knights already inside. The room had hushed when he had talked, but Arthur could see the knights quite plainly, had most likely been giving his father his updates. But Arthur paid them no mind and kept his gaze firmly on the king, striding up and only stopping once he was a few feet away from the steps that led up to the throne. "I have an update you need to hear, concerning the sickness."

Arthur could have broken the news to his father in a more gentle manner, but the king wasn't exactly the most gentle man around. And news like this needed to be shared immediately, not held in tightly or drawn out as if Arthur was keeping it a secret. Arthur would have to tell his father straight, exactly what had been going on this time. And this take his own punishment like a man, when his father learned he had gone into enemy territory without his back-up. At least Arthur could be fairly certain he wouldn't be whipped until he had bruises that would last for days, like he would plan to do to Merlin later on. The most, Arthur could only figure, was that he would probably be confined to his rooms. But before Arthur had a chance to get a single word out, all hell suddenly broke loose.

It started with a startled squeak from one of the few knights in the room-a newbie, Arthur noticed, who'd only been a knight for a year or so. He still had that stupid 'need my hand held to do anything, but I will pretend I know what I'm doing' look about his face-before he was launching himself forward. Arthur was startled, and blinked as he stepped out of the way as the knight…he didn't attack Arthur? The knight didn't even draw his own sword out, looking as if he would be going in for the kill, as if he hasn't pledged his life and his loyalty to Arthur and the Pendragon family.

The newbie knight barreled right past him, followed by a second knight that was a bit more seasoned but no less dumb looking than the first. Arthur wouldn't have been able to tell you what, the knights had been doing, or why they thought it was proper decorum-at this moment, where Arthur had just announced that he had a new report for his father-to…play chase? As if they were a bunch of children. Arthur turned back to his father, opening his mouth to suggest the king dismiss them from the chambers. If the men weren't going to act as if they had some sense in their brains, then they could wait to hear the king declaring to the town that the sickness was over and done with, with the rest of the town who didn't have the privilege of being in this meeting room.

But the much more high pitch squawking-the sound of the voice alone had Arthur on edge in less than an instant-and he didn't even need Morgana's shout of 'Merlin!' to realize the idiot boy had somehow gotten himself in trouble within the first five seconds they'd been here. Arthur couldn't have whipped around on his feet fast enough if he tried, hand flying straight to his sword. His teeth gnashing together as he saw the two men grabbing onto his consort by the arms, and a third coming out of nowhere to lead Lady Morgana out of the crossfire, even though she wasn't making it easy for him to drag her away, scratching angrily at his hand wrapped around her bicep with her dagger like nails.

"What do you think you are doing!" Arthur snapped out immediately, eyes narrowing sharply onto hands far too tightly gripping onto his consort's arms. Good god, it was like the previous council meeting when he had Merlin bursting into the room declaring himself a bloody sorcerer and the two guards had stepped up to drag him out. Only, these were two different men, and Arthur was past tired, while only made him more irritable, agitated, and just plain pissed off. Having a man look at him wrong probably could have set him off, if he didn't need to keep some decorum around this place as their prince. But having two men-Arthur found it hard to believe that he had been able to find not one, but two men who were even more moronic that Merlin was-grabbing onto his consort was trying his patience far more than he had. "You will get your hands off of him immediately!"

And Arthur pulled his sword out just a little, enough for the warning and threat to be clear. The men were to let go of their Royal consort, or they would be less a few heads. And matching to the disembodied head that was still somehow nestled underneath the crook of Merlin's arm. Merlin…Arthur shot his glance up to the boy who wasn't looking at him-why wouldn't he look at him? Arthur was the one about to drag out his hide from whatever this was-because he was darting his eyes between the two much larger men. Merlin's stupidly dopey grin was long gone, wiped clean from his face after these unfortunate events. Arthur felt it when his jaw tightened. Okay, maybe Merlin grinning the whole way here had been stupid and childish. But it was far better than the anxious look darting across his face now.

"But sire, we've got him locked down now!" The more newbie knight exclaimed, frowning deeply as if he did not understand why Arthur wasn't celebrating gleeful over their catch. The knight almost sounded proud of himself, as if he had caught a hardened criminal who had evaded their guards for years and was the lowest of the lowest criminals with a kill on sight order, since nobody was strong enough to contain him without an escape happening before they even made it down to the cells. The knight didn't seem to realize, he'd only caught a stupidly naive boy who hadn't done a thing more than opening his mouth when he shouldn't. The boy couldn't even fight back! He definitely wasn't the 'dangerous criminal' type, and Arthur was damn near starting to growl when he saw the knight squeezing a hand tighter around Merlin's bicep. If he even saw his consort wincing from the pressure on him, then all of these knights were going to lose hands as well as the heads, where they kept their slowly-decompressing brains. "Consort Merlin is a known fugitive, and it has been by the king's orders, that he be brought to him immediately."

Arthur felt the whoosh of air as it left what seemed like his very soul. And his eyes shot straight back to Merlin's own. Arthur trailed his eyes down, and saw the hood of the cloak he had given to Merlin. Nobody had seen fit to either put it back on, or remind Merlin just because this was over, didn't mean that he didn't still have other people looking for him. The prince felt like a moron-the highest of all idiots-for not thinking of it earlier. For not grabbing Merlin by the hood, and jerking it over his head until it hung low over the top of his eyes. Where he wouldn't be seen. Wouldn't be noticed. Until Arthur had the chance to give his king the detailed report of what had just happened. And only allowing Merlin to reveal himself once his father had given the order to allow Merlin to once again, be a free man. It wasn't supposed to be like this. Merlin was meant to be brought up to his room later on, and punished properly like he planned for it to be. He was not supposed to be taken on as the king's prisoner…

He had been too distracted by Merlin's stupid grin to think about anything else.

"Excellent job, men." Uther suddenly spoke, waving his head to make the room quiet as could be. Arthur whipped his head back around to his father, and the king stood as elegantly as he always was. Looking to be more than pleased by this strange development. It was apparent that Merlin's capture was vastly more important than Arthur's announcement. And Arthur held his breath as his father strode down the stone stairs at the foot of his throne, but the king seemed to be looking only at Merlin. With a condescending raise of his eyebrow, "I do have to admit, I was not expecting for you to just show up like this. When my men couldn't immediately find you, I just assumed you were in hiding somewhere."

Uther was smug about this new development in the case. He'd been restless the entire night, and he'd been growing more and more agitated as the hours had passed by. He should have had the girl already executed the night before, and there was absolutely no telling how many people had died in the ensuring hours it had taken for Merlin to appear. The girl's very livelihood kept the spell killing his people alive, so he had put all of them at risk for this very moment. But it would now be worth it, and those lives lost during the extra hours the girl had been allowed to live, the king would allow them to be briefly honored with a simple moment of silence after he gave the all clear for their kingdom to start cleaning up and recovering from the ordeal they had all been suffering during this week.

"What can I say." Merlin spoke up in response to the king's words. He jerked at his arms to try getting the knights off of him, but it was pointless. Their grip was just as harsh and as relentless as Arthur's was when he would grab him. Only, it was somehow much more worse. And not just because there were two of them, compared to Arthur's one-but seriously, did anybody in this kingdom know how to talk without asserting themselves with muscles much larger than their own brain capacities were. But also because at least with Arthur, Merlin knew what to expect. He knew he was getting progressively worse and more aggressive as the days had passed them by. But at least Merlin was prepared for the worse to happen, had been almost preparing himself for the day Arthur would step over the line and never be able to return. The back of his head still ached from where he had been hit against the wall. These two newcomers though, weren't men he knew. Nor men he'd tussled with before. Not like he fought with Arthur. Merlin rolled his jaw firmly, as he wanted to say far worse to the king then what he actually did, "I'm full of surprises."

Surprises had been the only way Merlin had ever got one of his jumps on Arthur. The very first time Merlin had tried to punch Arthur had been a failure, but that was because Arthur had been expecting it. He was a trained knight after all, and would have been a poorly trained one if he couldn't stop an untrained punch to the face from a random boy. Merlin hadn't known this at the time though, but he'd learned his last mistakes as the weeks had passed. He would need to do some things that the prince would never expect. It was how Merlin had managed to get a knee to the groin-groin kicks, Merlin was sure, wouldn't be approved on the training regimen. They probably thought it was below them, with all their fancy training skills. A kick to the groin was more of a peasant defense anyway, one of the few things a peasant with no training in defense was able to do to get away from their attacker. Arthur had never seen it coming that first time, but the other man had learned as well, and Merlin hadn't been able to do it again even when he tried. But Merlin had got one up on him again when he had smashed his face into Arthur's nose-it was still purpling along the very bridge of it, swollen but probably not broken like the consort wanted it to be-but that had been because Arthur was distracted by trying to do weird things to him again. And Merlin had flipped out, panicking on his stomach because he couldn't see Arthur and was not able to anticipate what he would do next. And he had gotten the jump once again when he'd stabbed that quill into the back of Arthur's hand, hoping he'd get ink poisoning from it. What knight-who expected to be attacked by other men, much larger than Merlin himself and with actual weapons, would be ready to fight off a quill? But, Merlin had a feeling that those surprises wouldn't work against the king himself. And there would be far more dire consequences if he did try them…

But then again, everybody seemed to see him as this dead man already. What more could Uther do to him, if he still planned on having him killed.

"Father!" Arthur jumped in hurriedly, dropping hand from his blade. It was one thing to fight off knights who thought they could get handsy with the consort right in front of him. But he couldn't fight off his own father being added into the mix. He had to be able to fix this. Merlin should only be punished from his own hands, a punishment he approved of and executed to the best of his abilities. Not by someone else's hand, and not a punishment that was a lot more permanent than Arthur had in mind. "This is a misunderstanding, I can assure you! If you would just give me a moment to explain, then you can see that everything is going fine now. I…I can punish him! He doesn't need to be taken to the execution's platform!"

Arthur kept his gaze firmly away from Merlin this time since he didn't want to see Merlin's reaction towards Arthur being his punisher. He was sure Merlin would kick up a fuss, but maybe even the consort was able to see how he was teetering right across the edge of living to see another day, and the ultimate ending of his existence, because Merlin fell strangely quiet. He knew most husband's punished disobedience from their wives with a harsh slap across the face, but only behind closed doors. Might send her away to have an extended 'vacation' in the countryside where she'd be out of the way and out of sight. Leaving the man free to 'sow his wild oats' among the other ladies in the area. It was probably expected for Arthur to take a similar course when punishing his own consort. Or doing something much more humiliating in the more extreme cases, like making his wife wear this cloth to allow other's to know she was to be shunned for her transgressions against her husband. Nobody would be allowed to acknowledge her existence-not even simple servants-for the duration of it. And all of that would depend of the husband himself, and just how far his leniency stretched or patience waned.

Arthur was sure there were plenty of people who'd think he would take one of the many options open to him. But none of them interested Arthur, or peeked his attention in the slightest. Not like…being more heavy handed on Merlin's rear than most husbands were willing to be. It was easier to have their wives shunned, then beating them, Arthur supposed. And the humiliation was probably more damaging then a few harsh marks that would eventually heal and fade away over time. Even though it would be a very hard stretch for anybody to know the kind of punishments Arthur would prefer to do, he still felt the warming of his blood. Stiff, as if people could read his mind and see how unorthodox Arthur's personal punishment of Merlin would be.

"Arthur." His father spoke, raising a hand for silence to ring throughout the chambers, but not sparing the time to look back at his only heir as well. The prince nearly jumped out of his skin, almost positive that his father knew the weird things that circled through his mind on a daily basis. It didn't matter how odd Arthur knew they were, and how wrong it was for him to be having them, everything Merlin did only seem to be making him think of them more and more. And Uther would surely take it out of context, if he knew of the extent of Arthur's thoughts. But the king didn't say a word about it-Arthur still wasn't able to breath proper because the situation was still tense, "You have had all the chances in the world to discipline your consort on your own time. And you have long since failed, as the boy still acts without thinking. I do fear it's finally time for myself, as unorthodox as it is, should be the one taking over your consort's discipline."

Arthur couldn't have moved if he tried, feeling almost like a statue with his feet planted firmly where he was standing. One would have thoughts roots had grown out from underneath the floor itself, and wrapped the greenery around his ankles to keep him from moving forward. As his father bore down, glaring down at the consort with all the wrath of somebody who was long since scorned. His father had warned him this could happen, probably more than once knowing him. But Arthur hadn't taken him nearly as serious as he knew he should have. He'd been working on Merlin slowly, mainly yelling at him without going too far, by acting out his fantasies to finally get Merlin's attention. But Arthur had been restraining himself for far too long in the matter, hadn't wanted to ruin Merlin because the boy wouldn't have anything left of him by the time he was done. But his father had no such restraints self-inputted on himself. He would take Merlin apart-with different methods than Arthur himself would-but the end results would only be the same. Merlin, without a pulse and forever marked as Arthur's ultimate failure.

He couldn't keep him in line…

He couldn't protect him…

Arthur couldn't fight his own father for his own right to discipline his own consort in his own way…

It would really spark Arthur's failure among his own people when they saw Uther taking charge, actions speaking louder than words when it was the king and not Arthur deciding the fate of their consort…

Uther seemed to take Arthur's silence as a means to continue, and decided to address Merlin this time, "If you had only listened the first time boy, when I made it very clear how important it was to stay away from the state of our noble affairs." The king was talking of that very first council meeting, the one where Merlin had first started getting himself involved when their kingdom had Valiant running amok. And how the king had forced Merlin to apologize to his assaulter before allowing him to leave, just one more method to show the consort how beneath all of them he was. And the king had only been gracious enough to allow him to join during the second council meeting, having fully expecting for the boy to fail. And now that he had, it was the perfect opportunity to finally get rid of the baggage that had been clogging up his family for far too long. "Maybe then, none of this would have had to happen to you."

Merlin's jaw went tight, because he knew this wasn't anything more than a bloody lie. The king had been watching him since the day he arrived in the city, just waiting for Merlin to screw up in a way that could not be overlooked. Merlin may have made the leap when he had made his deal-gladly giving his life with Gwen because it was better than forever living with the far reaching anguish of knowing he'd been the one that got her killed in the first place-but the king had been waiting in the wings for it to happen. Uther had made him come here, had made him go along with a stupid contract he hadn't had any part in creating, and all of it was for what? So Uther could have Merlin killed off at the proper moment? So his son wouldn't have the contract controlling the rest of his life? Merlin could see quite easily…it was probably that. Uther probably meant to have Merlin killed off from the beginning, he had only given Uther the means to do it. After all, the contract tying Arthur and Merlin together would end up being null and void if one of them was dead.

And Uther wasn't about to kill off his own son…

Leaving the prince to do whatever it was he had been meant to do before Merlin had rolled up to the scene.

Merlin could feel the sourness coating his tongue, he could feel the disgust roiling and coiling tightly in his belly, making him almost sick with it. Sick enough to feel the urge to throw up all over the king's expensive leather skinned boots. He had been so stupid. Merlin had only fell right into the king's plan, thinking he had been trying to do good things. For Gwen's sake. But he hadn't done anything at all, if the king wasn't even going to bother listening before making these kinds of decisions.

Uther took this time to turn back to the two knights who were holding Merlin captive, "I want the boy to be brought straight to the courtyard. Nobody will be taking their eyes off of him until I have him tied to the pyre. And you," Uther turned to the two other guards standing against the wall, watching all of this going down without saying a word. "You are to go straight down to the cells and get the girl. Have her brought to the courtyard as well. It is time this is finally over with." And Uther turned back to Merlin, who watched in dawning horror-because this had been exactly the thing he'd been trying to avoid. "It seems, child, that you have decided to play with fire. It's time for you to die by it, for daring to side against a witch rather then your own kind."

Merlin wanted to scream, but his throat felt far more tighter than it had before. It felt as if somebody took a length of rope and wrapped it snugly around Merlin and his neck, giving him not an inch of room for him to breath properly. Uther was twisting things, making and plotting for a narrative of his own storytelling to be the only truth seen by the people. It would only be all too easy for Merlin's name to go down in history to be remembered as a traitor. Somebody who had took his chances and aligned himself with a murderer, had aligned himself with somebody lower than the lowest of filth their city had…a sorceress. Merlin's story was going to be spread far and wide, maybe even his own mother would be able to hear it all the way from their little Ealdor. Twisted and convulsed until the story no longer resembled even a fraction of what had really happened, after being spread throughout the entire kingdom and beyond. Merlin, the consort who was supposed to be the protector of the people, fought for the freedom of a witch. And it was only by Uther's good graces, did he give the boy a chance to repent against his sins. Only to have no choice but to have him burned for plotting to take down their kingdom from the inside.

"Arthur!" Morgana appeared directly at the prince's side, hissing in his ear and digging her nails into his bicep. The prince blinked, seeming to snap out of his dazed shock over what was happening, and whipped his head down look at her. Dumbstruck that she had apparently gotten free of the knight who had tried to be her bodyguard and protect her from the 'vile' man they were about to cart away. "Don't just stand there like an idiot. Get up there and say something that will stop this! Tell Uther what happened!" Morgana made sure to get behind him, before she was pushing him forward, making Arthur stumble in surprise before he caught himself.

But Morgana was right, he couldn't just allow Merlin to be carted off like this. He might be an idiot who'd run headfirst into danger without thinking, and things would probably be a lot easier if Merlin could just be shipped back off to wherever he had came from, but he didn't deserve to die for his overzealous nature to life, "Father…" Arthur stepped in, trying once again to get his father's attention. But despite the vocabulary that Arthur knew, having been taught intensively for most of his childhood, seemed to have escaped him. Maybe it was the budding fear in Merlin's eyes, or the ire way his father was behaving…Arthur had-not once in his life-been able to stand up to his father. And this was clearly something that was going to became this much larger problem later on. But for now…

Somehow, his father was far more scarier than going against the beast…

Arthur could see the way-out the corner of his eye-Morgana slapping a hand to her forehead. Apparently thinking Arthur was sucking terribly at this, just as he thought the same. But this was when the two knights twisted Merlin's arms behind his back, making Merlin yelp as the ache coursed through his shoulders when his arms were brought up far higher up his spine then they were meant to go. Arthur-involuntarily-stepped forward before he had even realized they had. Those knights were not treating Merlin like Arthur had been that one time after he'd found him with Clarissa. The prince had forced Merlin's hands above his head and made his back arch until he could feel the strain that shot through his muscles, intent on teasing Merlin to not worry about such trivial things. But the men were not interested in watching Merlin's reactions as he'd been, watching every little twitch until he would see something that told him he had gone too far and had to back down. These men were just being aggressive and forcing Merlin into the position they wanted him to be in, even if they had no right to move him around like that. No right to even touch him without Arthur's explicit permission, which he would never give.

A loud and solid thud hitting the ground once again made the entire room fall silent, before Arthur could step in properly and do something about this. All in the room immediately shifted their gaze down to look at the disembodied, and bloated looking head. It had landed face up, angled directly towards Uther, so he could see the pale yellow stones made for eyes. And the jagged foot long rocks that created it's teeth. The king was the first one to get his bearing's back, as he looked up and scanned his eyes across the room.

"And what…is that?" The king's disgust was obvious in his tone, not able to make head or tails of the thing that had rolled to his feet. It was vile, being even near the king. He clearly expected for one of his knights to give him an answer, but the four knight's in the room could only share confused glances. It was obvious no one had an answer for the strange occurrence.

"That," Merlin drawled out in a slow tone, becoming the first to speak his truth, his eyes looking down at the head on the ground. His eyes trailed slowly along the curved head, landing on the yellow and brown as they flickered and seemed to shift colors in the torch light. Before raising his eyes to meet with surprising boldness at the king, lifting his chin a little as a spark of defiance fluttered down his spine. If the king was going to have him killed still after this, Merlin wasn't going to go with his head bowed. Shivering in fear as if he hadn't known exactly what could happen when he came here. "Is what I call the sickness ending."

X

Merlin would like to say that things were easy going after that. He could say that the king listened to the story Arthur, Morgana, and Merlin weaved before him with the patience of a saint. Not interrupting, and not refusing to believe it. And the king agreed with them that the story made sense, and now that he knew, he was going to fix everything. Merlin wanted to say the knights had let him go, with full apologies blubbering from their lips, shaking his hand, giving him promises to tell the other knights to keep their hands off of him from now on. A great hero like himself shouldn't have to worry about being mistreated or dismissed by men meant to keep him safe. Uther would be right there in an instant, apologies of his own spilling forth while he told Merlin he was going to make it up to him. And his first order of business would be to order the knights to the cells and have Gwen released immediately. He would have Morgana there, wrapping his arms tightly around his neck, blubbering amazement's, because she cannot believe they had finally done it. And even Arthur was there, the prince laying a firm hand on his shoulder from behind to get his attention.

You did good, Arthur would say as soon as the dark haired boy turned around, already smiling before he had realized who it was. But Arthur would give him a squeeze on his shoulder, before leaving to do what it was prince's did when they weren't getting onto his case. That would have caused Merlin's euphoria to hit the room, an evening of celebration with his best friends-with Morgana on one side of him and Gwen on the other as soon as she arrived-without Arthur there to absolutely ruin it.

Everything was going to be okay.

Everything was not going to be okay.

Because that hadn't been how things had gone at all.

Things had hit the roof only seconds after Merlin had allowed his final words to leave his lips. There was far more screaming then Merlin's fantasy world had. And most of it coming from the king, depending the other knights dispose of the head as it was obviously just a ploy. Something else meant to buy Merlin time before his execution, and he refused to have anymore of the distractions get in the way. Uther wasn't like his son-who would get distracted by Merlin at the mere drop of a hat-and was determined to have his way. Easily throwing around his 'I am the king and you will obey me' power.

Morgana had started shrieking the second one of the guards had stepped forward to pick up the head. She had went off the deep end, screaming incoherent to the king, brandishing her hands at him to show off to him her own version of proof. Merlin saw the scrapes on her hand, from where she had fallen into the cave walls during Merlin's wind storm. The wounds on his ward's skin seemed to be the first thing to get a real reaction out of Uther, where he snatched them up to get a better look for himself. And then he'd accused Merlin of roughing her up, and looked like he would pull his sword out on Merlin for it. Well, Uther wasn't wrong technically. Morgana had fallen, because he'd summoned the wind in the first place. And surely just a few scrapes were much better then returning to the castle with Morgana's head tucked underneath their arms, instead of the beast. Morgana had put an end to that one, jerking her hands out of Uther's grasp to reassert herself. Something along the lines of: Merlin saved me! If he hadn't pulled me out of the way when the beast attacked, I wouldn't be here now!

Uther hadn't taken kindly to that one. Another saving the life of his ward probably would have been given a proper reward. As much gold as they wished, maybe being given a position in the Royal household-a much better paying livelihood than anything they be able to find down in the village-would have been one of the king's method of choice. Maybe they would even be granted the opportunity to have dinner with the king himself, who wouldn't love to eat like a king for only a night. But Merlin was somebody else entirely, and he did not appreciate being expected by Morgana to go and uphold the same standards. Which would end up being exactly what the king tells Morgana, and in the typical Morgana fashion, said something snarky over how the king played favorites and would decide only on his own who was worthy of his mercy. Uther had gotten cold, and told her to contain her tongue or he would have her sent to her room for the night so she could calm herself down.

Morgana had snarled in protest, more afraid of what would happen if she decided not to do the right thing now, then she was of being sent to her room like any disobedient child would be. Well, she wasn't going to be treated like a child any longer, brushed aside by a man's pig-headedness. Uther had seen the fight still building in her eyes, and suggested they make a stop by Gaius'. If she felt so strangely about this, that she would argue against him over it, then it was possible she might have hit her head. Believing false stories, like the one they were trying to peddle him, and most likely, Merlin had only been filling her head up with all of these lies while she was in a vulnerable state. As if Morgana hadn't argued with him plenty of times back in the past.

"No." Had been the first word's Arthur spoke, having been content to stand back and allow Morgana to go head to head against his father. Until he had heard all the words spilling from Uther's mouth, bluntly calling Merlin basically a liar. Arthur had done the very same thing in the past, and each time he had been slapped with the truth much harsher than he would have if he had just believed Merlin in the first place. The people were going to live, because Merlin had seen the way they were going at it wasn't working, and had tried to fix it on his own. Before coming to Arthur for his help on fighting the beast. Something about Uther calling Merlin a liar-after the way Merlin had led them to the beast himself-had made something deep inside him start twitching. Arthur didn't know what it was, but it had propelled him forward and before he knew what he was doing, Arthur was snatching the head from a knight that had picked it up per the king's orders. He had held it out to his father, making sure the king got a good look at it as the hardened clay dig deeply into the palms of his hands, "Does this look fake to you? I have learned from my mistakes, father. Do you really believe I would bring this to you without knowing this was the god-honest truth? Spilling from his lips."

Arthur had been the steadiest he had been since the king had first dismissed what he'd been saying when he had first entered. And the king was actually forced to take a look at the rock within Arthur's hands. King Uther hadn't looked pleased, and had thinned down his lips into nothingness, but as Arthur had said. His son knew the importance of learning from whatever mistakes he made, so they wouldn't be repeated into the future. Uther still wanted to make sure though, to know for sure that he wasn't being tricked, and had summoned Gaius to the room.

Not many people knew anything that had to do with magic, most people old enough to remember a time before the great purge had blocked what little bit of magic they knew from their minds. Knowing that this was now considered useless information, it wasn't as if anybody could do anything with it nowadays. Or, so many years had passed by-a good twenty so far-that nobody really remembered what life was life before it was considered blasphemy to even think about it in a time like this. But Gaius…Gaius was one of the few on the council-the only one, if one wanted to be specific about it-who still knew a few things about magic. But Uther allowed it, only because he knew the large and vast amount of knowledge Gaius held inside his head could be beat by no other. It came in handy, when he needed a second opinion on things like magic. Uther had every book on magic he could find burned many years ago, except for a few exceptions he had hidden away-only books on information about magic, he had kept no books on how to actually use it-so Gaius was the only source of information he was willing to go to these days.

Uther had told Merlin he had better hope that Gaius collaborated with this story, or he would make sure his death was a whole lot worse than simple dying in the flames. Merlin wasn't sure how much more worse it could be, dying in the flames seemed like it would be pretty painful. But maybe Uther was going to have his tortured within an inch of his death, and then set him to the flames…? Either way, Merlin wasn't going to be looking for it, but there was also nothing to be worried about.

Gaius had arrived not long afterwards, escorted into the rooms by two knights that had gone to get him, before the doors sealed back shut, not allowing any other person in the room until they had finally gotten this figured out. The physician behaved as if he was annoyed to be there at all, frowning more deeply at the king then he usually did. But they could've been more because Merlin was still being manhandled by the knights. The men had loosened their grips as the proceedings had continued, but Merlin was still kept with his arms behind his back, ready to be carted off the second the king declared it to be so. "You wished to see me, sire?" Gaius had finally asked the king, in a bland tone.

The king didn't seem to notice, or if he did, he didn't put much stock in it. There were other things that the group needed to be worried about at the moment. So the king had asked Gaius if he could identify whether or not the clay ball still in Arthur's hands, was able to be positively identified as an afanc creature. And the prince handed off the ball of clay to Gaius, so the old physician could give it a proper inspection. Merlin did have to admit, Gaius made sure he put on a show for the king, not giving away any indication that he'd also been a part of their schemes. It wouldn't do for King Uther to realize Gaius had known exactly where the consort was going, back when he'd been questioned by the knights who had came storming into his own chambers to find him.

Gaius had twisted the ball of hard muck around in his hands. He hummed and made brisk clicks of his own tongue as he tapped at it. Rapping his knuckles onto it to see how hollow it was inside-it wasn't hollow at all, as it turned out, the thick muck forming the head completely-and pushed and prodded at those yellow stones the thing had been using for eyes. Tugging at the teeth as if he was trying to pull one of them from the muck to get a better look at it-although it would not have shown anything, the stones were nothing but normal rocks, being used and manipulated into place by whatever this thing was-and all the while, it left the king on edge. Arms crossed impatiently over his chest, and watching Gaius closely, unable to wait for even a minute to know the truth once Gaius made his deduction.

"Well, sire." Gaius had said after many-many-minutes had passed by in a tensed silence, finally looking up from the muck ball. "I wouldn't exactly say I have this vast knowledge on afanc's specially, I would have to consult my books just to be sure-" making it seem as if he hadn't already researched whatever he could on the afanc once they had learned exactly what it was that they were dealing with. "As afanc's are very rare magical beings, one would have had to be gifted with powerful magic and trained for decades to be able to create one, but from what little I do know about them then I would have to say…I believe this muck did once belong to an afanc."

Even though Merlin had already known this-and had already known Gaius was going to tell the king what it was-he felt something inside of him settle, even his shoulders sagging against the men holding him like a captive. Merlin couldn't help but also notice how the physician had managed to sneakily add in what they already knew: Gwen was far too young to have been able to conjure something like this. Even if the king wanted to consider Gwen might be more powerful in magic then they thought, not even he would be able to deny Gwen not having the life experience needed to conjure such a thing. It was the seed of doubt that might just break the camel's back, and get into even King Uther's stubborn mind.

"Fine." Uther suddenly said, after thinking for a few tense minutes, deliberating and rolling everything he had learned over in his head. The king was grudging and waved a dismissive hand towards the group that surrounded him. "This is what we are going to do. My men-" Uther tilted his head to the two guards holding Merlin in place still. "Will see that our…consort…stays in his suite for the duration-" and Merlin felt his heart sinking into his stomach, somewhat like a stone may have, because that didn't sound good. Was the king, what? Grounding him? And not even in his real room at Gaius, but in that facade room. The room meant to look as if everything was okay, and Merlin was being taken care of properly. Just another sham, meant for the people to think Merlin was living the good life. His only reason for not telling anybody that he had been more than willing to ditch the place, was because he knew Uther would force him back there the second he knew. Can't have Merlin ruining their little charade by living his own life, could they? "And I will give the matter some thought over the next few days, before I decide what the next move is."

Uther had said all of this as if it was a done deal, and the group should be grateful he was entertaining the possibility at all. Merlin didn't get it. Gaius told him it was a literally afanc! There was no lying, and there's no trickery going on, it was so obvious that Gwen did not have anything to do with causing the sickness, a blind man could have seen it for the truth that it was. What more did Uther want? Did he want Merlin to go and start performing magic right in front of him, and allow the king to pin all of this on him next. Well…the king might actually want that. It would give him a real excuse to have Merlin on the pyre. It wasn't fair that he could be murdered for being magic, but that was the world they lived in, so…there wasn't much Merlin could do about it.

The king made a move, looking like he was about to turn around and go sit in his fancy throne chair. But why wouldn't he, as far as the king was concerned, it was a meeting that was adjourned and finished with at the moment. There was no point in standing about and trying to rehash anything the group already knew about….for all Merlin knew, the king would only wait a few days to say he had given the matter some actual thought. Before sending Gwen to the pyre anyway, to prove some kind of-I'm the king and can do whatever I want-point.

"No." Merlin looked started, whipping his head back around to stare at Arthur when he spoke up. He had not been expecting for Arthur to try and get himself involved again. Taking the beast's head and holding it up for Uther's inspection had really been the one and only thing Arthur had done since they'd arrived. The consort had only figured that was as far as the blond was willing to go. Merlin was being held captive with armed knights, and Morgana was being threatened with being grounded for an undetermined amount of time. Maybe Arthur just didn't want to see what King Uther would hit him with if he started stepping out of line. But it had tracked with what Merlin knew of the prince-that he was a spineless jellyfish of a no good coward.

But even the king seemed to be startled by Arthur's declaration, looking at his son with a crease forming in-between his eyebrows, "No." he repeated, looking as if he was making sure that was really what Arthur had told him. Maybe the king would have preferred to have something wrong with his hearing, rather than it be his son apparently defying him. But Arthur looked as stern as he had sounded.

"No, this has gone on far enough, father." Arthur said to the king. He wasn't outright defying him, he would never do such a thing, but he was pointing out a few things to his kingly father. "Just thinking about it will not be good enough. We have made a gross, horrid misjudgment on the situation. Our actions have done nothing but cause a girl to sit in the dungeons for the last few days. Have gotten Morgana into a tizzy," the prince waved his hand over to Morgana, who huffed harshly at the term he'd just used to describe her in. But Arthur was already moving on, and waving one of his hands in Merlin's direction next, "And is causing my own consort to get arrested. Let's stop this while we are ahead. Unhand my consort, release the girl in the cells, and make a public statement that the city is safe."

Merlin whipped his head back between Arthur and the king, watching the prince as he handed off the head to one of the knights standing nearly. He didn't know what the king was going to choose, but Merlin liked the idea of 'unhand the consort' and 'release the girl'. There was nothing for the king to 'think over' during the next few days. Not unless the only point to any of this was to watch them squirm, waiting for an answer but not getting one until somebody started to crack. Arthur liked to do that, Merlin thought irritated with how these proceedings were going. The prince liked to make Merlin squirm, liked to watch him get all flustered or embarrassed-Arthur certainly tried hard enough to push Merlin out of his comfort zone-so he really wasn't all that surprised to find his own father was running along the same line. Merlin supposed he should just be grateful Uther wasn't behaving like the grade A creep his son was, and trying to do all those weird things to him that Arthur liked to do.

"…I can see that you feel quite strongly about this,"

said the king, pushing his lips out, but nobody could tell if it was done in irritation, or if it was done as the king thought king and hard about his final move. And Merlin wanted to scream 'just get the fuck on with it, already!' Because all the pauses to think over the one thing Merlin thought was pretty damn easy, was only making him anxious. He was more anxious about the king's next words, then he was about the knights that held him. Knights holding him, he could handle, since it wasn't the first time hands had been put on him. It was the king's abhorrent manner of dealing with this situation, and original denial that he may have made a mistake with Gwen's sentencing, that got under the consort skin more. But finally, the king gave his son a generous nod of the head. "Alright, you have got my attention." He turned to the knights holding onto the consort. "You heard my son, release the boy and go down to the cells and release the prisoner."

Merlin's eyes nearly fell out of his head, positive that the king would have tried dragging this out more. But the guards did as told, and dropped their hands from Merlin's person, making Merlin stumble now that they had taken their grimy hands off of him. Merlin didn't waste any time straightening up, bringing a hand up to rub along his arm where one of the knights were holding him. The grip hadn't been even nearly hard enough to bruise him-nothing like that one time the Knight, Markus, had grabbed onto him-but it made him feel better to put pressure on it. To feel his own touch, rather than somebody else's for once. He was starting to get a complex, where just the thought of somebody else touching him made him shiver with disgust and yank away before more damage could be done to him. But, Merlin supposed, that would just be something that happened when everybody thought it was a free for all when it came to him, and his own person space.

Merlin shook his head, gripping tightly onto his arm so his fingers dug into his own soft skin, reminding himself that it was 'his touch'. His touch and not any other person. Because Merlin wanted to be able to touch himself, and know that it wasn't some stupid, meathead who thought Merlin was nothing but their own piece of meet to move around as they wanted or pleased. Gripping his arm though, didn't mean Merlin didn't keep an eye on Uther. He watched the king as he snatched up a piece of parchment-rolled up, and on top of a small stack of them perched on the edge of the long table in the center of the room-and bent over it so he could scrawl something across it with the quill he picked up next to it. Merlin wasn't able to read what it said, he was too far away for something like that, but considering he handed it off toward one of the knights, Merlin could only assume this would be some kind of paperwork to get Gwen out of jail. It was something the knight's probably needed-acting like a permission slip so the guards down below knew it was legit. And not some random trick conjured up by fanatics who really thought Gwen was a witch and wanted to burst her out because they, for some awful reason, thought the sickness was a great idea.

There were some seriously fucked up people out in the world, who probably got a kick out of dozens and dozens of people dying in one fell swoop.

Merlin should know.

He was married into a family of psychopaths, people who thought burning any person that even looked at you wrong, was a good idea.

And speaking of marriage, Merlin could feel him now, like some kind of six sense tingling in the back of his mind that told him he was being watched. There was the sensation of hair on the back of his neck starting to stand up, goosebumps forming on his forearms as he knew exactly who it was without having to look in his direction. But look he did, right at Arthur Fucking Pendragon, who had decided to wait till the end of it all before speaking up. Merlin couldn't even muster a grin at the prince-Gwen's release should have been a happy moment, and while it was, there was also just a tinge of it being bittersweet with Arthur's inactivity, he could have used him during the beginning of all of this, not till everything was half over and they already had the king 'halfway' on their side-but his lack of a grin didn't mean anything, because Arthur would not look back at him. Not at his face, at any rate. Arthur was looking a bit further down, and Merlin stopped to follow his eyes to see what he was staring at.

His arm.

Arthur was staring at his arm.

The arm that had been grabbed by one of the awful, meat-headed knights.

The same arm that Merlin was now rubbing…

Merlin felt the sourness bursting on his tongue again, and he glared daggers at the prince. What the bloody hell was he staring at now? He was probably just mad because he didn't have a chance to hold onto Merlin for himself, or because there was no opportunity for the prince to grab him and drag him off to do weird things again, as everybody else talked the situation over. It sounded like Arthur for sure, getting annoyed because Merlin was doing things without his say-so. Even becoming a brief prisoner apparently fell under that flag. What, Merlin thought agitated because he knew Arthur was probably gonna pitch a fit about it later on when they had privacy, did Arthur want him to tell the guards they couldn't touch him? Why, did they ask…because my husband doesn't want me to do things without asking, Merlin would say back. Just let me ask my husband if it's okay to be carted off to the dungeons, first. Don't go anywhere, I'll be back in a minute with an answer.

Arthur sure did look mad, his nose flaring out a little and his eyes were darker than they usually were. But Merlin wasn't surprised by this in the least. The blond was always mad at him for one thing or the other with every little aspect of his life, so what was one more time? But Merlin wasn't going to stand there and let Arthur stare him down across the room filled up with people, looking like he wouldn't mind starting up his weird attitude again.

Merlin's glare sharpened, but it was only to hide the twisting of disgust that made his belly roil, something that was starting to happen more and more when he was in Arthur's vicinity. Maybe the stress of the day was starting to get to him, or maybe he was starting to finally crack after so many unwanted hands were being put on him-shoving, sneering, thrown into the walls by knight after knight, taken captive, hands so harsh they leave marks and bruises, a soreness that radiated around his shoulders after being tripped as he walked, and a dozen other memories. While most of them contained Arthur, there was plenty of other knights prominent in them-because Merlin-kill him now-belt 'vulnerable'.

He felt vulnerable with Arthur watching. Felt like he was going to be sick, just one more hand touching on him without his permission was going to push him off the edge. If Arthur tried anything later tonight, before Merlin could rest and calm down-he just knew there was no way Merlin wouldn't snap, something within his mind shattering. His skin was already feeling like it was oversensitive to his own touch, somebody else touching him-Arthur especially-would probably make it feel as if he'd been struck by lightning. It would be too much…far too much…Merlin 'legit' knew he could not be touched again. Not tonight. Not ever, if he was talking about Arthur specifically.

Merlin snapped his attention to Morgana-who was grinning ear from ear as she watched as the knights were leaving with Gwen's documentations in hand-which firmly put his back to Arthur. Not the safest of moves, since he could no longer see him, and it was far too easy for Arthur to sneak up on him. But it was better then the roiling and twisting and pure nausea that was starting to stir in his stomach the longer he had stared at Arthur. Merlin still made sure to put his arms down, so they were resting firmly on either side of him.

It caused the cloak-Arthur's cloak, and didn't Merlin remembering that cause an almost violent inch right underneath his skin where he couldn't scratch it to get it to stop-no matter how hard he tried-fall around his body and hid his form from view. So Arthur could at least stop staring at him. He almost wanted to pull the hood over his head as well, so he could cover his face from view too. But, Merlin figured that would be giving Arthur more ammunition against him. He'd say he was scared…

Merlin wasn't scared…

Just…

Overwhelmed.