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!

102. Chapter 102

Merlin had knew this was a bad idea from the start of it all. He hadn't wanted to do it, but all of his protests had been thrown in one ear and out the other. There wasn't a single person alive that could say Merlin did not get his stubborn streak from his mother's side of the family. Gaius hadn't wanted to hear any excuses come pouring out of him that day. And Merlin had got pretty creative at one point, explaining that there was a man who looked like a toad that kept watching him whenever he left the chambers. Maybe Merlin should have left out the 'look like a toad' part, and his uncle may have been more inclined to believe his fib.

He'd even gone the desperate route, and tried to do what he could to bargain his way out of this. He had offered to clean the man's bloody leach tank, and the thing had been a mess before Merlin had even gotten to the city three months ago. It was far worse now, as the buildup of slime practically coated against all the clear walls of the tank. The leaches seemed to thrive inside of it, but Merlin was willing to destroy the little nest they had made inside. As long as Gaius allowed him to climb back into bed, and pretend that another day wasn't passing him by.

Uncle Gaius had ignored every weak word that left his lips, muttering something about how Merlin would thank him for this later on. But Merlin didn't see a day like that coming anytime soon, as the old man easily wrestled him into a fresh pair of clothing. Wrestling him may have been too strong of a word, because it hadn't been much of a fight. Merlin was too weak to do much more then run his mouth, his limbs far more scrawnier they had been when the food in Ealdor had been next to nothing during the hardest of winters. It would have been pure bravado on Merlin's part, if he wanted to try and claim that he didn't want to go far enough to hurt his uncle, by pushing the elder away from him. But Merlin would know that this wasn't true in the least.

Truth was: Merlin didn't think he'd be strong enough to stop Gaius from putting fresh clothes on him. The elder man was old, but thicker then Merlin had been in his entire life. He had a steady died, whereas the diet Merlin had been on included taking a steady sip of something. He'd finally relented on eating just the day before, but even that had only been a few bites of toast. So he knew Gaius hadn't doused it. But to be frank…a toddler would probably find it easy to get Merlin knocked over. Frail and weak…he detested all those words, and any other word that could've been a synonym for it.

Gaius had tossed him out of his chambers as if he'd been nothing more than yesterday's trash that would need to be picked up by one of the maid's. Though it might have been a bit of an exaggeration. Merlin was sure Gaius was expecting him to return back at some point. And Gaius had given him a piece of toast for the road, something that would no doubt give him all the strength he needed to spend a day outside. Toast seemed to be the only thing he'd been willing to get down these days, and anything much larger would'be surely gone to waste. Which was why Merlin only ate a few bites, before tossing the reminder in a plotted plant against the wall he was passing. He was sure it would be found before it was rotting…maybe…

X

Merlin didn't even bother trying to enjoy himself as he wandered blearily across the castle. It was hard to be cooped up inside all day, no longer being able to feel the sun across his skin. But he much preferred a bedroom of darkness these days. In his room, there was no chance of him being caught unaware by any undesirable's. And it was pretty hard to enjoy when he was on high alert every moment he was forced to spend outside the safety of the little nest he'd made in his bed. Waiting for when the next attack would've came from, his skin was literally buzzing underneath his skin in anticipation, positive that he wouldn't give anybody the chance to catch him unaware again.

The last time he had allowed himself to be unaware had led to the incident where he had ended up with a sprained ankle after Knight Christian had gone ahead and knocked him down the stairs. He didn't know still if it was an accident-the knight had meant to get him off his feet, but maybe he hadn't been aware that the stairs were so close?-or if he had known and done it on purpose. But either way, it was dangerous for him to be let out. Maybe if he had just taken the time and explained things like that to Gaius, the physician may not have been so quick to throw him out. But Merlin couldn't blame Gaius, even if he wanted to place the blame on somebody, it was Merlin that refused to let him know…

Merlin kept one arm wrapped around his stomach and his hand was lightly gripping at his wrist. He was squeezing and pulling, pinching at the skin to force himself to not get too far in his head. The second he did, Merlin would sit down against the wall and there was no telling how long it would be before he would get back up again. Gaius may have to come find him if he didn't return home at some point, the hours left to once again pass him by as he stared blankly along the wall. And unlike his room, there would've been no telling who would be the first to find him. And rather or not they would use that opportunity while they had the space to themselves, to finally do him in.

Which was exactly why he was staying on the far less populated side of the castle. While Merlin must have been completely helpless when he'd first gotten here it had been many months since he first explored this castle, and he knew it's endless hallways better then he ever thought he could. Even just wondering from hall to hall…he knew which places to avoid. Like the entrance hall was a big one, it had nothing but more and more people streaming in and out as they came and went. That would've been the worse place, and Merlin would have been far too open in such a large space. There was also the throne room he needed to avoid, as Uther was most likely there. And Merlin did not plan on speaking to that man for as long as he'd be able to get away with. Certain hallways were also a prime avoiding spot, since they saw the most when it came to foot traffic. But the biggest one would end up being the kitchens. The place was bustling, messy and loud, and Merlin was liable to get screamed at by the matron if she saw him even walking himself past the doorway…

X

Merlin didn't know how long he had been walking, and he wondered if he had been out long enough to appease his uncle. He brought a hand up and rubbed at his eyes tiredly, able to feel the bags that had been formed underneath them. It didn't matter how much he slept these days, it never seemed to be enough. It was like just waking up was enough to put him into a bad mood. It had nothing to do with his room, or with the sunlight streaming in through the windows to try and urge him out of bed. Maybe it was just waking up in general…maybe he was just tired of waking up. He probably looked like crap, and while Merlin would've at least taken care of his appearance-his mother had always drilled into him that healthy hygiene was able to give a good start into a tiresome day-he just really didn't give a crap around it these days. His very own jacket felt as if it had grown a size or two since he'd last worn it, but that made since with the poor diet he had. It practically swallowed him whole, but at least it was warm, and gave him an extra barrier against the world around him…

Merlin pinched at the flesh above his wrist bone far harder than he had been, hard enough to leave faint indentions of his blunt nails in the frail skin. And this caused Merlin to hiss, and wince, but he didn't care either, as he soothed the ache over with his thumb. It kept him alert, though self harming himself this small bit probably wasn't the healthiest choice to make for himself. But then again, when had Merlin gone to try and make the 'healthier option' during the weeks he had? He was lucky to get a few sips of water here or there before he felt like regurgitating it up. And what was worse, causing marks in his flesh? Or waiting for the next meathead to come around the corner, catch him staring off into space and wondering what came of his life, and decide to throw him off the balcony or something. While jumping off a balcony wouldn't be the most horrible thing in the world, Merlin would've preferred to jump himself. Rather than letting his own death option be taken from him like everything else had been.

His dignity, his home, his magic, his happiness…even his smile…

Merlin stopped and leaned against a wall, sagged on the wall was more like it, but Merlin decided to ignore that little distinction. It was an ordinary wall, probably the most ordinary wall in the entire castle, but maybe that was why Merlin had decided to stop at it. There was no tapestry covering it up, trying to hide exactly how plain it was behind a picture of beauty. He could see no vases settled in front of it, or paintings hung in an attempt to distract the hide with a pretty image to hide how utterly dull the wall itself was. It was just a wall. Plain and empty and lacking…just like he was himself. It was stupid to find comradeship with a wall, but oh well. There was no one here to call Merlin out for now utterly stupid he was.

Merlin turned himself around so that he was able to press his back against the wall as flat as possible. It was cold and hard against his back, the stones rough through his coat, but he liked the pressure. It would be something that helped remind him that he actually was alive, like the pinches he'd been doing…pain was helpful. Pain safely controlled by his own hand, it was probably the only control he had. But Merlin knew he would take whatever control he could get. He laid his head back against the wall, feeling the little bumps of the stone ache into the back of his head…good, was what Merlin thought as he squinted blearily towards the ceiling.

Miraculously, Merlin had managed to get to one of the unused halls of the castle mostly unscathed. He had taken every back hallway he knew, but he found it much quieter up here. Away from whatever there was going on downstairs, he had heard so much that he had avoided going anywhere near them. Not only was there people in those directions, but it was much louder then usual. He'd heard crashes as maid would scurry past the hallway he was sneaking down. More and more knights then usual seemed to be out, going about with the greater population. It was honestly, a bloody happenstance that he hadn't been seen. Hell, the way he was feeling, he probably wouldn't care all that much if he had been found. He'd only be left to wondering how long it was going to take before what maid or knight decided they were done with him.

It was hard to keep fighting when everyone from the toughest of knights to the most dainty of servants was looking to be his enemy.

Merlin's hands were pressed against the wall on the sides of his body, and subconsciously, he started to run one of his fingers along the grove of the wall. He was touching, feeling, allowing the little pinpricking sensation as his skin caught along some of the more sharper points of the wall. It was hard for him to have been able to feel anything, and Merlin was happy-in a life luster sort of way-to take whatever he could get out of this. Maybe he was a freak, but he was a freak already, for far worse things then enjoying a wall…his pointer finger brushed against this particularly hard spot against the wall that didn't feel quite the same as the rest of it.

Merlin suddenly let out a silent gasp, and he allowed his mouth to drop open a little at the same burst of pain shot itself up his finger. Merlin wretched away his hand from the wall, and cradled it into his chest as he looked down at what had caused it…the thing he'd been brushing his finger against looked like the leftover remains of a rusted nail. Maybe there'd been a plaque that had once hung here? Or maybe it had been for pinning a tapestry down…Merlin didn't know but clearly, someone had removed any evidence that there had ever been something that hung on this wall in particular. Everything except for the nail, long and jagged and rusted from who knows how many years it had been stuck there. Just waiting for somebody as dumb as Merlin to play around with it, until it could strike.

The stinging resonating from his finger in the frigid air of these halls got Merlin's attention again, and he held his finger up for inspection, the expression that was on Merlin's face was dull and tired. Cheekbones almost hallowed out and gaunt. But that really hardly mattered when Merlin absolutely froze, a brief hint of interest that'd been growing more and more lacking during the weeks, shone in his eyes as he took in the slim digit. Or more specifically, onto the blood that he could see beading up on the top of his finger, trying to draw him in like a bee went to a flower for its dose of nectar.

Usually, if Merlin had gotten a cut on his finger-and it was liable to happen since working in the fields didn't exactly mean the safest conditions-he'd only pop the digit into his mouth to soothe the little wound. Before continuing on without another thought about it, since it would be long gone by the time he was done doing his work. But not this time. This time he stared at the forming blood. This time he watched, as the circle of blood got bigger and bubbled from the wound in his skin, escaping its own prison in a way Merlin wouldn't be able to.

He watched, his fascination brimming into unsettling levels that would have disturbed a more sane person of society. The little bubble of blood seemed to grow to be too much for his skin to handle, and it looked to pop. Merlin brought his hand closer to his eyes, and he followed the trail of blood as it started to slide its way down his finger towards his knuckle, pooling into the crease formed between his finger and the start of his palm. It was so vivid, so bright, a shade of red not even the Pendragon colors could have held a candle too. It stood out in stark contrast when compared to the paleness of his skin. And that only drew him into it more. He wanted to see more. Wanted to see more red as it flowed from the veins that provided it along his entire body.

But should he put his finger back on the nail just to see how much more blood he could get to flow? Or how long it would take before he started to feel a bit dizzy? He could just stop if he didn't like it, or if that became too much, but…Merlin bit down on his lip as he felt tempted. More tempted then he'd ever been before. But wouldn't that make him more of a freak of nature? In all the struggles he had faced, being what he was and unable to tell anybody without fear of the persecution that would follow, Merlin had never once tried to purposely hurt himself.

It hadn't been something he had thought of doing, all he'd been worried about was surviving to make sure he reached the next day. His days had been filled up, and kept him occupied for the most part. Unlike here where he had far too much time on his hands to think about these things…Merlin didn't know anybody that actually hurt themselves, but he knew that there had to be others who did it. But those were people who'd have their own reasons for doing it. Wanting to be in control. Fighting through depression. Lost and alone in the world…

But that wasn't…

No.

That was exactly like Merlin. And by now, the blood had started leaking down into his palm, about to start tracing itself along his wrist bone. Merlin could have been drugged, for all he knew, angling his wrist just a little. So he could watch it's proceeding's. Merlin had literally just described himself, and it seemed he had every reason in the world to do more damage among himself. It wasn't a cry for attention. It wouldn't be a sign of desperation, some trick to see who'd notice it happening, or how long it would take before another stepped in to try and stop him.

It would be about control.

Finding his footing in a world where the earth liked to shudder beneath his feet, throwing him to hands and knees with everything it had thrown at him. Being the one that was able to control his own pain, being able to dose out however much he wanted. To allow only a trickle of his own blood to leak out of a wound he had known was his own making. Or allow gallons of it slip out, freely flowing until he was content enough to get it to stop. Or not stop. But that would have been only his prerogative, and nobody else's.

Merlin could faintly hear the sound of something that was coming from down the hall, but he barely paid it any mind. It was muted to his ears, nothing but being able to see the sweet nectar of his life leaving him by himself, on his own was able to catch his attention so throughly. And he was content to ignore the passing of time all over again. He may not be in his room, but it didn't mean he couldn't allow his thoughts to freely flow. When so many people wanted him tied down as if he was nothing more then a caged bird, the door to his 'cells' opened only when others desired he had to play his part in the grand scheme he was in.

The sound came again, a little bit closer but it wasn't close enough for Merlin to take notice of it. Maybe it was something he should be noticing, but Merlin was able to find that he didn't much care. What would the possible person do to him that Merlin didn't want on some level or another. He was pretty sure he heard his name being spoken. Not his name, but the name that everybody called him by. As if they were trying to mark him for being stuck with having an word like that attached to his name. Never allowing him to go and forget what he was doing in Camelot.

Consort.

Consort Merlin? Consort Merlin…Consort…Merlin felt as if he had just been ripped straight back down into his body. Jolted threw no force of his own, and Merlin blinked, whipping his head around to look at the maid that had been calling him. And with one swiftly done motion, Merlin tucked his arm down into inside of his jacket, curling his arm around his waist to hide what he knew had been a stream of blood. The little prick on his finger hadn't been anything, but without going so far as to stop it, it had flowed into a mess. Merlin discreetly rubbed the arm on his shirt, hoping that it would be enough to get rid of the evidence. And that his jacket would hide away whatever blood stain that would come off on his shirt.

"Consort Merlin? Are you alright?" The elderly maid asked, clutching a stack of something round to her chest, and scanning her eyes up and down Merlin's form with a frown. Merlin clenched himself up tighter, feeling himself shrink away from her and rearranging his arm to hide the bloodstains better. "You seem to be preoccupied…should I come back later or will now be a good time. Though it's really pushing it…"

Merlin barely registered what she was telling him, he was too busy scanning the maid over anxiously. He hoped the maid hadn't seen what he had been doing just now. It was one thing to allow himself to fall into a deeper mindset, but it was quite another to let any others see the same things he'd been seeing. Merlin was the freak that tricked Arthur into marrying him as most people thought. He didn't need to be known as the suicidal freak that had tricked Arthur into getting married. Even if that was exactly what he had been doing meant…suicidal. Death. Going into the next life. Never feeling the pain of life. Never seeing Arthur or his sneering, cocky face again. Never having to live up to expectations he didn't know why were heaped onto him of all people. Not listening to Gwen chatting about as she did laundry…no more listening to Gaius as the man let him watch him work. No more listening to Morgana pass on the castle gossip that just so she could show him not everything being talked about in the castle, was him…and his pinpricked finger felt so much heavier then it had before.

"…I'm sorry, I don't know what you're talking about…" Merlin asked, wondering if he had missed something about their conversation. But he hardly cared enough to actually know what was going on. The maid didn't seem to have realized what Merlin was doing, or she would've probably made a bigger stink about it then she was. And his heart was heavy. Torn asunder. He wanted to do more to his body, see how far of things he could go, but…the people he actually cared about around here…he didn't want to hurt them. Though it seemed as if he would have to hurt himself if he was not able to do something about his living situation. It was a mess. "…There's not enough time for…"

Enough time to pull himself together. Enough time to dig himself a whole and lay down inside of it until the rain pooled together and filled it up with himself laid under the surface. Enough time to wilt like the dying flower that no bee would ever want to come nurse to full strength. But those options hardly seemed as if it were going to happen. And Merlin realized he should have wondered much further away from one of those many abandoned halls. Especially if he didn't want to be found, he was far too close to the main part of the castle if a maid could just stumble upon him like this. But if he hadn't stopped here…Merlin might not have known what sweetness a burst of pain could bring to his otherwise dull existence. And arm still headed by his jacket, Merlin pressed his finger against his side. Biting on his lip, as the slight squirt of pain shooting up his finger brought him more peace then anything else.

"To make the final decision…? Everything will need to be decided before tonight, and since you were being difficult to find, we really are running low on the time we have left." The maid continued on, her tone grew more crispier and short with Merlin. She looked a bit flushed around the edges, having probably spent the entire morning running herself ragged in her attempt to find Merlin. Though Merlin still didn't have an idea what she was going on about. Decisions…what kind of decisions was the maid expecting 'him' of all the people in the castle, to make. "Now, I have taken the liberty of picking a few options out for you of which ones would look best. I just need you to choose the final option."

And Merlin reacted quicker then us usually did these days, having to scramble when the maid practically all but threw what she had been holding into Merlin's chest. It made him oof, and it made his chest ache a bit. The Merlin from before might not have ended up so winded, but the Merlin who didn't eat needed just a second to breath. And another second to rearrange his arms so that his right one was holding all the stuff underneath. The bleeding had stopped now, but even Merlin could see there could only be one explanation for the red streaks of dried blood going downwards, along his palm and across his wrist.

But now that it was taken care of, Merlin looked down at what he was holding. And to his surprise, he saw it was three different plate settling…why had the maid just handed him plate settings? And the first one that was on top, had little yellow ducks surrounding along the boarder of the plate. Looking as if the ducks were able to jump off the plate itself with how vivid they'd been drawn on. It could have been seen as quite the beautiful plate, but Merlin was still trying to wade on through his thoughts to figure out how the hell he'd gone from committing suicide-a thought that left him cold now, and his heart frantic in his chest at thinking of seriously doing it-to holding a duck plate. A duck plate that was wholly more innocent then Merlin was these days.

"Now, this one I believe would be an excellent option to make, though we do have more if you do not like it in particular." The maid said, though her eyes went as frosty as ice if Merlin dared disagree with the choices she had thrown into the ring first. "The ducks are this curious, innocent creature. The way they can waddle around, as if they have absolutely nothing else to do in the world. I think that it would be a good plate that encourages peace and calmness. Ducks can be seen as the noblest of breeds, if only people would let the things be seen as such. And they are quite cute too, so that's only an added bonus."

Merlin blinked. And then blinked again. And he did it one more time just for good measures. Obviously, it was sucks that got this lady excited, but Merlin could not fathom why she was telling him. Or why she was wanting him to pick a plate. Or why the Pendragon's had a plate with ducks around the edges anyway. He would have thought dragons would have been more their style, considering they have dragons on every other design they had around this place. And hearing their name alone, it didn't exactly strike Merlin as the type to carry plates with fluffy ducks on them. Giving him 'bunny plates' would have probably been the one and only thing that could be odder then what he was going through right now.

Merlin flipped to the other plate, and stared down at the design as his hands started to shake. It was by a grace from god that Merlin didn't drop them, and be forced to hear them shatter among his feet, "This is also an excellent choice, sire. The design is quite the fierce one, of course. It represents the Pendragon's, and their dynasty here in Camelot. It will get the point across that nobody messes with this kingdom." Said the maid, looking grudging because the consort had not jumped at the chance for putting her ducks onto the dinner plates. "I believe that the Prince would be quite impress with deciding on this one."

Merlin jolted when he head Arthur being spoken of so casually, as if he wasn't the one reason that the sorcerer found himself a neurotic mess all day every day. He wouldn't have called it a flinch, but that was probably what it resembled. And Merlin made himself still when he saw the maid glaring at him. God, how Merlin wanted to be back in his bed so he could just resume blocking out the outside world as if nothing outside his room ever existed. This whole plate thing was definitely a new method of torture, but it looked to be torture nonetheless. It wasn't being kicked right down a flight of stairs, but Merlin felt as if it had the same effect when it came to knocking the wind out of him.

"Look at the way the dragons are eating the other's, it's as if the plate is trying to say not even others of its own kind is able to be safe from the fierceness of a dragon's spirit. Just like the Pendragon's." Said the maid proudly, reaching out to tap along the designs that had upset Merlin. The plate itself was a red color but the dragons flying along the boarder were muted gold. There was at least five around the plate, though each one had it's mouth wide open, blood gushing in great amounts down it's jaws. It looked as if each one of the dragon's, was eating the one before it, as if the things were trying to swallow the dragon flying ahead of it by the tails. "This plate is almost trying to speak to other's that not even other Pendragon's will find a safe place among their ranks if they can't be strong enough to defend themselves. So even the enemies should be trembling in their boots."

Merlin thought that was probably a lot of emphasize to put on a simple plate, even if that plate did scream about the wealth of the Pendragon family. And Merlin might be putting too much thought into this, but the consort was pretty sure the maid was trying to say it to him, without actually saying the words…Any one of the Pendragon's would take out somebody that was threatening their dynasty. The Pendragon's were only as strong as their weakest link. Would take out one of their own without thought if the family line was being cast in doubt and shadows. No matter which way the sorcerer thought it, it didn't take a genius to realize it was Him, who was the one that would be thrown into the mouth of the dragon for consumption. This was a gruesome thought, and made Merlin feel as if ice was spreading along his entire body, freezing him straight to his very core.

"But of course, if you don't think fierceness is a thing we should be going for, there is the final option if you would prefer." The maid continued on, wearing a curl of disgust on her lips, clearly thinking the final option would be the worse of the lot. The maid didn't wait to give Merlin the chance to flip the plates himself since she reached out to help herself to the dragon plate to give Merlin an unobstructed view of the last. But the consort nearly dropped all the plates he was holding still as the brush of her fingers against his own when she took the plate sent uncomfortable shocks up his arm. His body went tight, feeling as if he was on this drawstring that would snap at any moment. Because the lady wasn't safe, the lady shouldn't touch him at all…"This one has a much simpler design so it would not be the one I would personally choose. But heaven forbid if the consort has more…simpler tastes then I do."

Merlin eyes her skeptically, waiting for the maid to do something else-his knuckles so tight around what he was holding that they were going white. He was half expecting for her to try and slap him across the face. While it was true none of the servants had grown to be comfortable enough with getting physical like the knights were, there was always a first time for it. But the maid didn't move…but Merlin didn't trust the lady either. Maybe he was in fight or flight mode, and he'd started looking for threats that weren't actually there, because he was starting to feel as if he was in battle everywhere he went that wasn't the safe space in his nest of blankets in his room.

The maid had only brushed fingers against his own, it was probably a complete accident on her part. Merlin didn't like it though. She wasn't a safe person, Merlin didn't know her. An entire month had gone by, during that time, Merlin's aversion towards touch hadn't just disappeared like he wished it would. The only reason Merlin had been able to get through Gaius forcing his clothes on him was because he was safe. Because it was his uncle who wasn't going to hurt him, but that hadn't made it any easier. He still felt as if he was just barely hanging on. And if the maid touched him only a time more, he would probably freak out. Already, he could feel his heart in his throat, and the tight grip he had on the plates was only so it would stop his hands from shaking violently, causing them to rattle against each other dangerously.

"Well, which one should it be?" The maid asked with an impatient tone leaking out, a tone she would never dare to use if she had been talking to Arthur or Uther instead of Merlin. The 'click, click, click' sound of her shoe tapping on the floor in front of her, another sign of her impatience, set Merlin's teeth on edge, making him wince as it vibrated up towards his ears. It was a simple sound normally, but it was grating underneath his skin. "Would you like the ducks-" her voice tilted up since that was obviously her thing. "Or maybe the dragons instead-" her voice grew obvious, as if she'd be sure that was the one Merlin would pick. "Or was it the final?" Her voice dropped an alcove, since she decided on her own that it was the least desirable of the three options.

Merlin gritted down his teeth so tightly, it was almost a miracle that none of them broke, his vision started to get black dots in the corner of his eyes, and Merlin was sure he wasn't standing as steady on his feet as he had been a moment before, but he forced his eyes down onto the third plate in his hands, squinting at it to try and see clearer. The white ceramic plate made the ache behind his eyes even worse then it was, but it was definitely simpler in design. There was a muted blue swirl design boarding along the edges of it, that blue didn't hurt so bad. It was simple. Easy. This one didn't make him confused as fuck like the ducks had done. And it hadn't made his stomach churn as if he was going to throw up all over the maid and clicking shoes like the dragons would have done.

"…Why are you asking me to decide what plates you should use?" Merlin asked, after shaking his head to rid himself of the black dots forming in the corners of his eyes. But he was pretty sure he only made it more worse, and leaned against the wall. He felt drained of his energy completely. It wasn't as if he had much of it to begin with, but he was starting to feel extremely low. This conversation was taking far too much out of him then it would have been, if the maid was talking to pre-Camelot Merlin. "Why bring these to me…?"

…Merlin could feel the cold wall pressed up against his side, could feel the edge of the nail that had drew blood from him poking into his hip…it was soothing in a strange way. Something hard for Merlin to focus on, to keep his mind from drifting back into the dark and disturbing recesses he kept falling into. And he let his eyes fall back down to the plates in hand, it was the blue plate that was so shiny, he realized he could see a glimmer of his reflection in the glass. And the dark haired boy averted his eyes away before he could get caught staring for too long. He looked hideous, and he felt even worse. The light that had once made his eyes shine a dark and vivid blue seemed to be out of commission. And only dead eyes had stared back at him. If that was how he looked on the daily, then not even Merlin could blame the man for trying to do him good by throwing him out. Desperate measures was often called for during desperate times, and all that, as people say.

Besides, he didn't like looking at himself. There was a person buried in there somewhere, but all Merlin was able to see was the empty husk of a shell that stood once where he was. There was nothing inside of him that wanted to force the Him he was before, the one who took no crap, and fought for his right to not be treated like crap from Arthur, back out. No shifting in him that said that person still existed. And if He ever did, it was buried in so deep, Merlin would need one hell of a shovel to dig up all the crap that was piled on top of him, keeping the Him inside as trapped as the outside Him was.

"Well, who else do you think I would ask this of?" the maid asked in a huffing tone, scoffing as she folded her arms around the one plate that she was holding in her hands. The Merlin of before may have laughed at her irritation, because really, what did right did the maid have to act as if her struggles was the only one that mattered. But the Merlin of today only stared at her sullenly and lifelessly. Because plates had never exactly been the highest on his priority life. The maid seemed to realized this, and huffed even louder then she had before. "We used to have the Royal interior designer making these kinds of choices, and it was his job to bring his ideas to Uther for a final judgment call. But considering our esteemed consort is here to do the job now, these kinds of choices are supposed to be made by you. The celebrations are being held tonight, so everything needs to be finalized and put into place in the grand hall before it starts!"

Merlin blanched, coming up off the wall far quicker then he meant to, and his head swum. Maybe it was the lack of food finally getting too him, one couldn't exactly live up to a diet of two bites a day before the cost of that started to hit him. But no matter, his lack of eating hardly mattered at all. Who needed food to survive when they weren't going to survive for long anyway, right? But had the maid just mentioned their was a celebration going on? Something tingled in the back of his mind that said that sounded familiar, but he couldn't think of why that was. But then again…he found that it made a bitter sort of sense that he had not known something was going down inside of the castle.

Though one would think somebody-Arthur-would've seen fit to inform him if this was something he had to know. Maybe that was it though, maybe Merlin didn't need to know what was going on in the castle. It was probably because Merlin wasn't invited to whatever it was. Which was good for him, Merlin didn't feel good just by standing in this hallway. He would leave all the rich people to their partying, behaving as if there was not a single care in their world. Unlike his. Merlin was going to find solace in his nest of blankets, that was for damn sure. For people who put so much on their emphasizes on Merlin needing to 'play his part', none of them saw fit to inform Merlin of things so he would not look stupid for his obliviousness. One would have thought being 'consort' would have at least been one reason to give Merlin a head's up though. But it was okay, Merlin didn't want Arthur seeing him being limp and lifeless in his bed. He didn't want Arthur to know how much everything was wearing him down.

"Maybe you should just pick whichever one that you want. I'm sure you'll make the better choice then I'd make." Merlin murmured so softly, his eyes going half lidded as he held the plates out to her. Merlin didn't want to look at these vile things for even one second longer. Here Merlin was, practically on his death bed, and Arthur was off having some kind of party. Bitterly in the back of his mind, Merlin made a sardonic joke to himself about how it was probably a party for the prince to celebrate his death. The Pendragon's were most likely too 'classy' to do something as obvious as that, but it lingered in his mind, nonetheless. But, the consort doubted Arthur even knew his will to live had drained from him so drastically in the last few weeks alone. But Merlin didn't care. Arthur would know if he had bothered to come and see him once in a while. "I don't really think I have the experience needed to go ahead and pick out their dining ware…"

Merlin sagged his shoulders dow as self-loathing so strong, it nearly took his breath away, roiled through him unexpectedly. It was stupid, really. How hard was it for him to just pick a plate and go with it. But Merlin didn't know what he was doing. Usually, people back home just grabbed whatever plate looked like it was the least likely to collapse once you've put food onto it. But Merlin was sure people around here were a bit more picker then that. They probably had standards to these things that needed to be met. Merlin didn't know what standards a plate could have, but he was sure there was something nobles would complain for it-probably something pretentious like the color that the plates were didn't match the drapes. What plates and drapes had in common, Merlin didn't know, but it would be complaint-worthy. Whichever one he would pick would probably have a thousand reasons why he had chosen wrong.

"Sire! That's really inappropriate to ask me a thing like that! It's not my job to decide things, I am just the servant! It's your job to be decisive and make things easier so we know what to set out!" The maid said in a clipped voice, looking disgusted by what the other boy had just asked her to do, making Merlin shrink to the wall surprised. One would have thought he'd just asked her to untie her bodice and show him what her chest looked like, by her extreme reaction. The maid gave an almighty sniff of her nose, as if she smelled something foul, which…okay…Merlin couldn't say if it was just because of his presence or what his actual smell was. Gaius had sponged him down to get days old gunk off of him, but he hadn't exactly focused on more then that. So Merlin probably did smell a little bit ripe, even if it was nothing like it had been before his impromptu second sponge bath this morning. "I do not know how things are done where you hail from but around here, we do like to keep people to do the work their station declares of them. I could not dare to look the royals in the eye, knowing they would be eating off plates that I have personally chosen for the celebrations myself. It is simply not how things are done around here."

Simply how things aren't done around here, Merlin repeated in his head, feeling as if the maid was only doing this on purpose. Because Merlin was only two seconds away from dropping these plates and taking off somewhere deeper in the castle where he would not ever be found. There were simply too many halls to look through, if anybody bothered. It wasn't as if the Pendragon's had never bent the whole 'it simply isn't done' concept. Look at who Arthur had married too! Apparently it was okay to 'bend the rules' when they needed too, but the second Merlin asked for a bit of help or advice, he was suddenly way out of line and needed to be knocked down a few pegs.

"…People back home are a bit more concerned with feeding their children then what plates they use. And sometimes, we don't even use plates. We have to eat with our fingers like uncivilized beasts." Merlin bit out at her. His words had this noticeable lack of edge to them that would have normally came out whenever he needed to defend his home, but it still had some effect on the older maid. Who gasped ruthlessly and brought a hand up to her chest, as if Merlin had just spent a solid ten minutes screaming every foul word in the book. Peasant she might be, but she had been in this cushy castle for probably her whole life. She'd have never survived in a poor farming village like the one he came from. Merlin ignored this though, before simply handing her the plates, "I'll pick this one." The consort decided, not even looking before he pointed at the one on top.

Whatever he picked was going to be wrong anyway, so he may as well just pick instead of standing here looking at each other. Merlin could think of only one other time he had done something like this, and that had been the time he convinced Mary to feed Arthur nothing but slices of bread during his very important dinner among the tourney champions. It was nothing but a joke back then, meant for Merlin to make sure Arthur didn't forget who he was dealing with while he was wining and dining all those other guys. But that wasn't the kind of things Merlin did anymore, he just wasn't that naive guy who played little tricks like that nowadays.

"Excellent choice, sire." The maid said in a bland tone to him. Her words were kind but her face showed him exactly how much she hated the one he had chosen to use. Merlin caught a glimpse of the plate that was sitting on top of the stack. It was the blue one. It was the one that didn't upset him…good. Or maybe it was not good at all. Because Merlin was apparently 'good enough' to be involved with the work that went into putting whatever they were doing together. But that didn't negate the fact that Merlin apparently wasn't good enough to be informed that this was happening in the first place. They probably didn't need to put on their normal 'consort showing' or Arthur would have been at his door by some point. "Though, may I be so bold as to suggest you go to one of the many more common areas of the council. It was quite difficult to track you down. I'm sure some of the other maid will greatly appreciate being able to find you more easier than I did. There is still many choices that need to be made."

Merlin scowled, because maybe he didn't want to go out in the open, had the maid even thought of that? Or did she think he had nothing better to do then to just hang around and wait for the next maid to come rushing at him and demanding he pick something for their fancy party. The maid didn't seem to notice his dismal attitude, because she was turning around and scurrying off as fast as her feet could carry her, with the sounds of clinging plates following her with every step she made. Good riddance, Merlin thought with a sulking expression. He could go back to what he had been doing before she had interrupted him with that rich people problem. Because only rich people would care about the design of their plates more then what food was actually going to be on it.

Now that he was alone-helplessly alone would always be infinitely better then people like the maid who had only wanted him long enough to fulfill whatever their purpose was before leaving again-Merlin rolled up a bit of his sleeve. Just so he could look at the stain of blood still marring his skin. Down his finger and along his palm and across the top of his wrist. It was dried up now, but still stood out starkly against the white of his skin. He was cold all over, no life inside of him as he finally had a moment to think clearly on what he'd been musing over before the maid had caught him.

Had he really just been contemplating suicide just a second ago? Had he really thought about giving into all of the pain…what would his mother say if she saw him now. Saw how weak he was for giving in all easily like that. Okay, so it hasn't been the first time Merlin had considered doing something drastic to be able to escape his hell. But it had been quick abstract ideas, like jumping from his window. Things he would want to do, but he'd also never sat on his windowsill with his feet hanging out, preparing himself to jump over the ledge. It was very different now. Where he could almost feel the handle of a blade pressed against his empty palm. Could imagine easily, the pain as he slid it through his wrist, his skin splitting open easier then a stick of butter would have. Could see so clearly, the blood that would pour from the wound and cover far more of his pale skin in the vivid shade…

Merlin could feel his shoulders starting to shake, and he could have sworn his ribcage was starting to rattle from somewhere inside of him. He wasn't sure if that was because…Merlin was actually scared of where all this depression was leading him too. Or if it was only his intense desire to see it through. Merlin found that he didn't want to know which was worse. He only…he needed to get this off of him. He couldn't think when all he could see was the dried blood starting to flake and pull at his skin. He couldn't think when the blood was having some sort of pull at his soul, drawing him in and teasing him with more. More. More…

Merlin licked at his other thumb, and started rubbing the wet digit across the red on his other hand, trying to remove it like the stain it was. It needed to go and preferably before Merlin tried to find that nail again to cut himself a bit deeper. Merlin was slow at first, and watched as bits and pieces slowly disappear as if the stain had never been there in the first place. But then there were other spots that were being difficult, and refusing to leave him. Merlin grew frantic, and he had eyes that were nearly wild as he scrubbed with more harshness at his skin. So hard that it was starting to ache, but Merlin didn't care. Cutting himself, he was sure, would ache infinitely more. Or maybe it would give him the release that he's been needing…Merlin grew more frantic then before, trying to forget those awful thoughts that were constantly plaguing him…

A sound from somewhere behind him had Merlin go stiff, his thumb frozen in place over this particularly large stain that had spread across the vein that went along his inner wrist. His ears strained as the sound of click, click, click, met his ears…footsteps. Heels if one wanted to be exact, a woman…and not another maid. No maid had shoes that were that loud…had somebody actually already found him. Merlin felt his throat closing up tight, he needed to get out of here now. Merlin was never the sort of person to run away from someone, but that was also pre-suicidal Merlin. And post-suicidal Merlin didn't want to be seen by anybody. Especially with this red patch he hadn't got off, it would be all too easy to come to the conclusion that he had actually done something. Instead of that one time being nothing more then an accident…

Maybe there was a closet Merlin could duck himself into, a place that was quiet and private and small, so he could have a panic attack or two without ending up as a sight for ridicule. But Merlin hadn't made one step before the sound of clapping hands reached his ears. It wasn't the clapping of somebody excited and cheering like there had been plenty of after the blond prince had won his tourney. This was slower, far more sarcastic…mocking, in a way. And Merlin didn't try to look behind himself before he was rolling his sleeve back down, trying to hide the evidence.

"Well, well, well, wasn't that quite the interesting bit of showing you did." A familiar accented voice spoke up from behind him and Merlin couldn't stop his eyes from fluttering closed. How the ever loving fuck was something like this really happening to him? Out of all the people who had stumbled across him in this hall, it would have to be the one person in the world that he would never want to see again in his lifetime. Well, that spot was actually reserved for Arthur. But Merlin could see the girl being second, probably something the spoiled little noblewoman had never been before a day in her life. Second. "I especially like how you'd offer the maid to pick a plate. Is that how you like to do things around here? Make people feel special so they'll like you? But it doesn't work, does it? It's why there are so many people around here who just aren't very impressed by you. I don't know what Arthur saw in you, but…I think whatever hold you had over him is finally starting to break. It just took a real woman like me to bring it out of him."

Before Merlin may have laughed at the audacity that this person was giving him. The mere idea that Merlin had any sort of hold on Arthur…it was ridiculous. But it was probably what the people had started telling to explain away the oddity of Arthur marrying someone like Merlin. But After Merlin…his face didn't twitch a single muscle that would indicate this person had got underneath his skin. A knife being twisted in his heart was probably something that would cause less pain then this person throwing Arthur into his face like she did. As if she didn't know Arthur would have chosen her over Merlin if he had the choice. God, Merlin had wished Arthur had gotten the chance to choose her instead of Merlin being forced to deal with an Arthur that didn't even tolerate his presence on their better days. If they had ever had any of those.

"You know," the woman huffed, already looking more annoyed then she should be from their interaction as she walked around to stand in front of him, moving a single hand so that it was perched on her delicate hip to add more emphasize on her feminine beauty. The move would have caught any man's attention, but the only man there was Merlin. And Merlin barely blinked at it, barely blinked at her. "I would have thought that Arthur would have taught you something by now. Do you not realize how absolutely rude you are being, to ignore a woman of my station? I am sure Uther would be very displeased with your disrespect."

Merlin once again didn't say a word, not feeling the need to spit fire at the woman. It was one thing to try and make sense of things with the maid-was it really so funny that he had asked for her help, both her and Clarissa seemed to think it was horrific-but this was entirely something else. Maybe this was just Merlin's complete lack of Will to do anything, but he wouldn't be getting into a fight with Arthur's affair partner. His only reason for not leaving completely, was because Clarissa's position in front of him prevented it. Merlin would have to shove her, since it seemed she wasn't interested in leaving him alone.

"Ah, that's right. You probably don't care since you're already on thin ice with the king anyway. Correct me if I'm wrong, but weren't you the one he was sending all his guards out for last month. Let me tell you, that was an absolute hoot to hear about." Clarissa said, as if she hadn't really known it was about Merlin. But the little laugh she gave at the end, flipping all her blond locks over her shoulder casually, clearly expecting to have some sort of reaction from Merlin. But he didn't give it. Uther wasn't entirely scary when Merlin would consider himself a dead man walking. Rather through other circumstances, or because of the dark line that he found himself coming closer to crossing over…the king wasn't all that scary in comparison to where his thoughts often took him. "I mean, honestly, I honestly don't know why you are still around here. Arthur must have some will-power, I would have thought he would have annulled your marriage ages ago, and claim this whole thing was a serious lack of judgment. Really…if I were you, I would have already packed my bags and left. People haven't exactly been saying the kindest of things about you."

Annulled…the word rung through Merlin's mind fast and harsh, almost like a heartbeat in itself. Annulled, the action of dissolving a marriage as if it had never happened in the first place. But just as fast as a brief hope hit Merlin, was it gone, and he felt his shoulders slump even further then they already were. He might not know much, but Merlin was sure, if he and Arthur could get this whole thing settled with an annulment, then it would have already been settled. And besides, there would have been no reason to follow along with the contract if it could be solved so easily.

Clarissa was watching him, and her lips were thinning with the lack of Merlin's involvement in her belittling, the consort licked at his dry lips, "…I know how these people see me. I actually live around here, so I know I have heard it all before. But, where are you meant to be living at again?" And Merlin couldn't even feel the pleasure when he saw Clarissa's features starting to darken. He had sounded croaky and raw, depression at it's finest, but at least he knew Clarissa had caught onto what he had been saying. Merlin hadn't wanted to say anything at all, but he could see she wouldn't be getting out of his face before he said something.

Even if that something was pretty much Merlin trying to tell her that she has overstayed her welcome. He'd already overstayed his own, but unlike Clarissa, there was no other choice for him. Even if Arthur died, they wouldn't let him go free. But he was sure that the girl had somewhere she lived. Some place that was most likely only a smaller version of the castle itself. There was no reason for Clarissa to still be around. Though she was probably still trying her luck with Arthur, that would certainly explain why Arthur hadn't been trying to bother him lately. He was probably doing whatever it was he wanted with her, since Merlin hadn't been trying to burst down his door lately. The last time he had seen Clarissa…she had been trying to stick one of her hands down the front of Arthur's pants. Since there was only one reason why a man and a woman would try to lay together…there was a good chance Clarissa had been trying to have a baby. Merlin eyed her stomach, not giving a fuck if she noticed or not, to try and see if it had started to swell yet. But it was flat, which basically meant nothing if she had gotten pregnant in the last few weeks. He didn't know much but he knew it was a little longer than that before the woman would start to actually show. He couldn't help but wonder what Uther would end up saying about all this. It didn't bode well for the whole love story angle he insisted on if somebody else showed up, carrying the next Pendragon heir in her gut.

"Oh, I live in an estate a few hours ride from here, but my uncle has been a gracious host and has allowed I stay for the time being, isn't that wonderful. It's quite the opportunity, being able to see Camelot in full and not just what I can during a short visit." Clarissa said, her darkened face vanishing as if it hadn't been there in the first place. The perfect lady taking her place in front of him, smiling pleasantly and looking as if she was completely at ease in his presence. "But if I may offer you some advice, you might want to can those sarcastic whips you are so fond of-" it was obvious that Clarissa remembered the few choice remarks he had said to her when he had first caught her inside of Arthur's chambers. Merlin wanted to smile, but there was nothing inside of him that stirred his funny sense of amusement. Nothing that made him cocky after he apparently made himself rememberable. So he didn't and Clarissa continued giving her unsolicited advice on his behavior again. "Since it's very unbecoming of a consort to behave that ways towards a noble guest in his household."

Merlin's chest squeezed tightly, and he could have sworn his ribcage had just shrunk a size or two. He had hoped she wasn't serious the last time he'd seen her, but it looked as if she was. Clarissa really would be sticking around for who-know-how long…the knife in his chest seemed to twist even deeper. Merlin was not stupid. He knew he and Arthur weren't anything at all, but the least Arthur could have done was told him what was going on. Instead of Merlin hearing all of it from Clarissa, who was quite happy to brag that she was still around. He was sure any moment now, Clarissa would give him all the dirty details about all they've been doing while Merlin was laid out in bed, letting the time pass him by. How could people be so heartless?

"…I'll be sure to take any advice that you can bestow upon me for consideration." Merlin said, making sure to smile at the lady, acting his part of the nobleman everyone expected him to be. With a touch of Merlin flavoring that he had to dig up through his pain. The smile he wore ached at the edges, and his eyes were completely dead as he felt another part of his soul as it left his body. But the look on Clarissa's face when Merlin finished almost made his little charade worth it all. "As soon as I find out what it says in the rule book for nobles, how one should behave when confronted by the woman who deems herself important enough to climb on my husband as if he were a tree."

Clarissa's face almost went blistered red, and Merlin let his smile drop, his work here done. Clarissa had probably not expected Merlin to so boldly say what she had been doing. If Clarissa had been talking to anybody else, the two of them would have continued playing word games and skirting around what she'd done. Somebody classy would have played the game without a second thought. But heres the thing: Merlin isn't classy. And he literally had zero fucks to give at this point. He was a depressed, angry, loner who was boarding on suicidal tendencies. He wasn't wasting his time with Clarissa acting as if she hadn't done the wrong thing. If Clarissa could act innocent, act as if her entire goal in that room that day hadn't been to bed his husband, then Merlin could do what little he could to make her regret playing those games with him.

"Arthur wasn't exactly complaining." Clarissa hissed at him, the sweet demeanor she had started with had ended abruptly, and she lifted her chin up, like trying to show Merlin how proud of herself she was. It was a disgusting display, practically bragging how she was spending her time chasing married men. There was a hard edge in her eyes that Merlin didn't really care to see. "You know, Arthur and I have been getting close these last few weeks. 'Real close'. And I don't want to see you doing anything that would ruin that for me. I hope you can understand that."

Merlin stared her down, wondering if Clarissa really thought he gave a flying fuck what he was doing with Arthur behind his back. Sure, he wanted Arthur to be a damn man and tell him what was up instead of just trying to hide it, as if they were a real married couple and he had decided to seek company elsewhere. But if Arthur wanted a woman who wanted to do nothing more then cling onto him like a cheap hooker, then it was his prerogative. Merlin only hated that he would end up facing the fallout when things eventually went south and Uther caught him. Nothing said 'true love' like cheating on your partner and all that, right?

"Don't worry, I think I can understand you just fine. If you and Arthur found happiness together, then I will definitely wish you the best of luck with that." Merlin said dryly, the sarcastic lilt barely detectable within his tone. Clarissa would have no idea the joke was on her, but she would find out Arthur was the absolutely worse person to be somebody's partner. Or maybe it was just him Arthur couldn't stand to be partnered to and maybe it would go far better with a lady like that one in front of him. But no matter, whatever Clarissa thought was going on between her and Arthur, would definitely not grow pass whatever stage it was at. He was contract bound to Merlin, after all. So unless his death happened soon, Clarissa would never be able to publicly claim Arthur as hers. Uther wouldn't allow it as long as Merlin was forced to be married with his heir. That much was clear. "If you don't mind though, I think I would want to retire. It's been a long morning for me."

Two hours…that was how long he had lasted out in these halls. Surely Gaius wouldn't throw him out all over again if he showed up at the door. But if Merlin had to listen to Clarissa spouting on about how much she and Arthur were 'close'-how close, Merlin didn't even want to know, then he was going to throw up all over her fancy purple heels. There were some things Merlin never wanted to know, and that was the things Arthur got up to whenever he was alone with another woman. But really, one would think a prince would've chosen their own affair partner more carefully. Maybe somebody who wouldn't blab about it to anybody in the world that walked by. Or somebody who thought it okay to brag to Arthur's own husband about…who did things like that?

Merlin tried to ease around Clarissa, not wanting to be around her for more then a second longer. But it was before he could make his grand escape, that the lady was grabbing his arm, her nails digging into him through his jacket. Merlin went stiff, breath catching in his throat as he whipped his head down to look at the slim hand with purple fingernail polish-dainty and innocent looking-gripping at him. Clarissa could have been a leach, from the way Merlin was looking down at his arm. She was…touching him…Merlin could feel his skin crawling as if he had dozens of ants working their way up his arm in violent tandem. Touching…he didn't like touching, she wasn't letting go…touch was violent from people he didn't know. He didn't exactly know her much, didn't like her for sure, she…Clarissa shouldn't be touching him…

"You don't seem to understand me, Merlin." Clarissa said in a cold tone, apparently not noticing just how intensely Merlin was staring down at the claws she'd lodged into his forearm. "When I said that Arthur and I have been getting close, there'a been quite some…unpleasant rumors going around lately that's been keeping us from getting even closer then we could be getting. And I think you know exactly what I am talking about. And I think you need to do something to stop them from worsening." And she finally let go of Merlin's arm from her grip that had been tighter on him then a boa constrictor would have been.

Merlin took a step back away from her, bringing away his arm to curl it around his chest. He shivered with a bout of discomfort going down his spine. Merlin was able to breathe easier now that she didn't have a grip on him-slimy and unsettling and disgusting-but there was still the phantom sensation on his arm. It made it feel as if she was still touching him, he really was the freak for having such an intense reaction toward one touch, but when he was used to being thrown around by Arthur and anybody on his side of things, he felt it was hard not reacting to every touch as if it would be the hand that tried finishing him. And Clarissa could be that viper for all he knew, hidden behind innocent blond locks and dainty appearance.

"I don't know what you are talking about, I haven't heard any rumors." Merlin said, looking away from her as he rubbed harshly at his arm, trying to erase her touch with his own. What was with these people, always making accusations and accusing him when it came to something in their lives. Contrary to popular belief, Merlin didn't actually cause things to happen around here. He just usually ended up twisted around inside of it somewhere. But it was nice to know that Merlin wasn't the only thing people talked about with the rumor mill. Maybe this meant people were finally starting to get bored with him? He could only hope it was true, but it wasn't like anyone would be willing to have a conversation with him to begin with. That, and his self isolation, hadn't exactly allowed him to hear of the latest news going on. So he had absolutely not one idea what had Clarissa so wild up. Only that she thought he was somehow involved in it. "But I can be the first to tell you that whatever you've heard, I have not been involved in it."

Clarissa didn't look as if she believed him, because she scowled at him haughtily. But Merlin didn't care one bit if she believed him or not. She would just be the last in a long line of people that didn't bother to actually listen to a word he said. And just decided to draw their own narrative to make whatever they had wanted, to fit over what the truth actually was. If the woman wanted to believe whatever rumor she had going around, then that was her prerogative. Merlin had long since learned there was no arguing with a person like that. It would only be a waste of his own time. And if Merlin was going to waste anymore time, it was going to be under his nest of blankets when he got back to what he'd been doing.

"Do not be coy with me, Merlin, I know you are the one that is telling everybody I was caught inside of a married man's room. Nobody has seemed to caught on that it was Arthur's room, but that doesn't mean it won't happen sooner or later." Clarissa sneered, and her accented voice seemed to worsen, Merlin almost couldn't understand her for a second there. But then he realized what she was saying, and his lips started to twitch into a half-smirk. Okay, so it wasn't exactly nice to be pleased by somebody else's distress, but this was Clarissa. Merlin thought he deserved a pass on his behavior when it came to her. "You, I, and the prince are the only one that knows what happened in the room. I would not dare speak of it myself. And the prince knows better then to mention something that could ruin his reputation, and I am sure that you are not the kind of man that would want to see his own husband in shambles, are you? So you had a little fit of rage and wanted to get some revenge out. Well it's over now, so you can still have a chance to fix this…"

Oh….ooooh, Merlin thought. This would explain some things. Clarissa thought Merlin was the one to spread the rumors, as he was the only other person that day, so nobody else would have known what happened to them. But Clarissa clearly didn't know him well, since Merlin was the last person to start spreading the little business he had left that wasn't up for discussion for the city, around the city himself. Merlin opened up his mouth to tell Clarissa exactly that, when he stopped for a second. Because…there was one other person in the city that had known. Had known because the consort had told her himself. Last month. While the two of them sat in the alcove together, and he'd been complaining about the latest stunt Arthur had pulled on him. Morgana.

Merlin felt a spark of gratitude from somewhere in his chest, it was probably the most he had felt since he'd been hit hard by his depression. It was only this little bit of a spark, barely even noticeable, but it had been there all the same. And yeah, spreading rumors were not exactly Merlin's style. But he could be appreciate of Morgana, who had grown up noble. And knew how to use the system against other people instead of her becoming prey to it, as Merlin always was. He would have to remember to thank her for getting involved, a break where he wasn't the center of attention would always be appreciated.

"If Arthur wants to leave his life in shambles, then it's entirely up to him." Merlin said firmly, watching as the Lady's mouth turned into a harsh frown. She'd been trying to guilt trip him, make it seem as if he needed to do something about this. What she wanted him to do about it, he had no idea. And he doubted a rumor like this was going to 'leave Arthur in shambles', she was clearly exaggerating on that part. "Besides, the way I see it, didn't you just say Arthur's name hasn't been apart of the rumor yet? The only reputation I've been able to see being ruined, is your own. But hey, if Arthur doesn't want to be found out as an adulterer, maybe you can make a suggestion to him since both of you are 'so close' nowadays. Don't start becoming an adulterer!"

Merlin had been careful with his words, making sure that he didn't name drop Morgana into it. He would cover for her, and make sure Clarissa didn't try to go and accost her next. Merlin still couldn't believe that Clarissa thought he would help her. Merlin might be depressed and a lot less willing to fight for anything, but he wasn't anymore a pushover now then he had been when he had arrived. If Arthur wanted to be the man known as a cheater, then Merlin say let him. And if Clarissa wanted her name tied into that, then that's fine with him too. Sure, if their lives were in danger of being squashed, then Merlin might feel compelled to help simply because he knew he could. But as far as he was concerned, Clarissa's little crisis didn't even come close to a life or death situation. Both her and Arthur had made adult decisions together. They had made their bed. And now they needed to leave Merlin alone and go lie in it.

Clarissa looked as if she was about to say something back to him that was particular scathing, as her eyes flashed violently. But she apparently remembered to behave herself at the last minute, because a 'lady of the court' knew better then to react when somebody said something to her. Her face smoothed over into a impenetrable mask of ladylike softness, and he could not help but wonder how she had done that. He had never been able to hide his emotions, everything was written on his face for all to see. If he was happy then he was happy. If he was pissed, his faces showed the fact as well. And if he was depressed…then he's what he was now. Miserable. And lackluster.

"I know that I told you Arthur and I have gotten close in the last few weeks, but I do hope that you haven't taken it out of context. We're merely becoming close acquaintances. Friends, perhaps. But nothing more, as I am sure your imagination as conjured. You would almost sound like a jealous little boy trying to stir up trouble for making a suggestion like Arthur becoming an adulterer. Or suggesting that I have anything to do with making him such." Clarissa said, with a teetering little laugh on the end, waving her hand dismissively at him, as if she had been doing nothing but making a cruel joke to mess with Merlin's head.

Merlin didn't buy Clarissa's little act for even a single second, and scoffed at her attempts to dissuade him from what she had told him earlier. There were plenty of reasons Merlin could think as to why Clarissa was trying to backtrack herself now. Maybe Clarissa had only been trying to piss him off, and that's why she'd claimed Arthur and her were close. Just another way to try getting underneath his skin, and give Merlin a new thing to be bothered or stressed about. Maybe she was backtracking because she thought he might go to Arthur to demand some answers. And rather or not they were close or not, Arthur wouldn't mess up his position in the court by admitting to anything. It would only leave Clarissa looking like a fool when he denied any wrongdoings. Maybe her and Arthur had actually gotten close, and this was just Clarissa doing a bit of damage control to stop the masses feeding in the rumors from discovering that Arthur was the man Clarissa had been sneaking around with. If Merlin did not help with the rumors, then Clarissa would need to make Merlin stop believing they were true.

If Merlin didn't show concern once Arthur's name got out, then the rumors would end up dying overtime…

Merlin's head hurt with all of the stupid mind games nobles liked to play. They could never just say what was going on. They needed Merlin to pick throughout their words to try and come to their own conclusions. It was exhausting, and Merlin didn't understand how people could live like this. How people could think of it as something that was normal.

Clarissa had been apparently looking for some kind of reaction out of Merlin, maybe hope that his own husband wasn't cheating on him? Because she held up her hand and tapped it against her chest, "But if I may be so bold, 'my consort' I do believe I can see a great future for myself and Arthur. Maybe not now of course, but I am sure that once the pressure of being consort has gotten to you, and you are no longer in the picture, once Arthur has gone through what is an acceptable length of mourning time, Arthur will find a bit of comfort by making someone new a royal."

A proper mourning period…Merlin didn't know how long that would be considered in royal standards. In Ealdor, people were given a week to hide away inside of their huts if a family member had died. Because it was the only amount of time they were able to spare, before they needed to return to the fields. But people in Camelot were more prosperous, and none of them seemed to realize how good they had at compared to the people back home. Did they have longer times to mourn their losses? And what about royal's…did they have all the time in the world? Or did it stretch on for a few months at most? Merlin wanted to know how long would Arthur be in 'fake mourning' over his own death, before he was allowed to move onto someone like Clarissa without people starting rumors because he had moved on 'too fast'. Would Arthur have to go and hide in his chambers for months on end, finding things to pass the time while people thought he was crying his eyes out somewhere?

Merlin shook those thoughts out of his head, the only satisfaction he would get was knowing Arthur had to be going out of his mind if he ended up locked inside his rooms like Merlin had been doing on his own, "I'm going to take a wild guess and say you're planning to be the one to take him off my hands?" He obviously eyed the hand poised on her chest, where Clarissa'd obviously been talking about herself being the one to be made 'the new Royal.' "Can I also assume that you are planning on killing me to make that happen much faster. I'm sure you're not just guessing I'll be dead in a timely manner, so you can swoop in and 'comfort' my husband in my place."

Merlin wasn't joking either, he could see people like Clarissa killing him off simply for what he was forced into in the first place. But then again-Merlin eyed the purple dress, and classy makeup and sharp heels the woman would-she probably wouldn't want to do the actual job herself. Merlin was sure killing him would be more messy then she wanted to be involved with. But who know's. Maybe Clarissa would hire one of those assassins Merlin had heard so much about at one point. Let them do the dirty work of putting him out of his misery, and allowing Clarissa all of the free access to Arthur. Merlin was the only one that stood in the way, after all. Arthur would probably marry her in a heartbeat once he no longer had Merlin tied onto him.

Clarissa laughed, bringing up a hand to cover up her mouth in that weird way women did when they were trying to bring attention to their lips, too bad Merlin wasn't interested in her lips, "Oh, heavens no. I will have to say, you have quite the imagination on you, maybe that's why Arthur keeps you around. Because you are quite the funny one." But Merlin didn't find he was being funny at all. And considering the only time that Arthur had ever laughed in his presence would have been when Arthur was making fun of him again. "Besides, I have other talents at my disposal so there is no need for me to do some quite as drastic as that would be. I would never disgrace myself or my family by taking out the competition in such an…easy way. If I am going to take another man's husband, then it will be through fair game. Not through dirty tricks."

Merlin couldn't say he was relieved to know Clarissa wasn't going for the more direct 'let's just have him killed' plan. But at least he didn't have to wonder just where the fatal wound would be coming from. But he was curious about what these 'other talents' Clarissa had were meant to be. He didn't think he would care much for them. Clarissa had sounded cold, amused in a way, and Merlin had a feeling Clarissa's whole 'I would not disgrace my family' thing, was in reference to himself. Did she think Merlin's family thought he'd been disgraceful? Merlin clenched his jaw tightly with that, knowing that Clarissa had struck a nerve. There wasn't a single person that got to talk about his mom like that, Merlin had even told Arthur himself to never talk about his mom. And so far, he hadn't. Merlin was only here because of her! But he would never hold it against her…

"Will your dirty tricks still work if I just have him over to you? Because I'm sure Arthur would enjoy being passed around like a used toy." Merlin said dryly and waved a hand towards her. He remembered all those times him and the neighborhood kids had communal toys because nobody could afford their own. It would almost be funny, imagining Arthur as the toy. Only he was the one toy that Merlin would never want to play with. He would leave that to the other kids. To people like Clarissa, who thought it was okay to bring up his family. Clarissa didn't know what families torn apart went through. She was here of her own free will, and could leave whenever she wanted too. She didn't get to talk about his own. "But hey, maybe you will have a lot more luck at taming him then I have. And I would wish you all the luck in the world, it's a full time job, and not nearly as glamorous as you think it is."

Merlin had never been up for the task of 'taming' a grown man. But somebody had needed to reel Arthur in, and show him that just because he's a prince, had not meant he got to do whatever the hell he wanted to people. He didn't get to continue treating them as he had been. But Merlin had failed, and he would be more than happy to wash his hands of him and allow the next sucker to try her luck. But this stupid ring on his finger wouldn't allow it to stray very far from what he had. And Clarissa had some fun times standing in front of her if she thought anything she wanted was going to come easy. Merlin hadn't had easy since the day he was born, and Arthur's presence hadn't been anything yes then stressful and painful. There wasn't only gourmet meals and gallivant princes who stood with honor. It was worrying about everything you say being taken out of context. Offending everybody you see because you didn't walk correctly. Or not giving somebody else enough attention and they think you are ignoring them. The little things that Merlin had to deal with among the mega things.

"Aww, little boy-" Clarissa cooed in her accented tone and Merlin felt a muscle in his jaw twitching, he hated when she called him that. Behaving as if she was any older and wiser and knew more about the world then he ever would. Maybe Merlin was just a poor farmboy from the middle of nowhere, but he wasn't stupid. "I do think you do not have to play coy with me. Nor do you have to put on such a brave face. It must be very upsetting, I am sure, to know despite your marriage, your prince has a wondering eye towards the others, towards the more…finer, things in life…"

Clarissa reached out her hand as if she was going to pet Merlin on the jawline, in this very condescending and patronizing way. But Merlin flinched back before her fingers could grace his chin, just having the mere thought of those purple colored fingers touching his skin made his stomach roil. Clarissa eyes went sharp and narrowed, apparently she had never had another person recoil from her touch as Merlin had. But even if Merlin hadn't been gay-and it had not one thing to do with rather or not he preferred men to women-he wouldn't want her touching him. Even if Arthur had not instilled this extreme reaction whenever someone he did not trust tried to touch him, Merlin would not want Clarissa within touching distance of him. She's just like every other noblewoman out there. Vain and rude and cocky and thought everybody should have been admiring the very ground she walked on.

"But I suppose I can see why you might be upset at the idea of your husband moving on. Even if it won't be because I 'did away with you' as you though. But maybe," Clarissa clapped her hands together, looking as if she was excited. One would have thought she'd been giving Merlin great gift, or bestowing this great honor onto him. "I know the Pendragon's have many empty villa's in different area's of the kingdom. And maybe Arthur would be willing to move you out there for your own comfort? Think about it. You can still get everything that comes with being a Pendragon, living your life far better then wherever you came from. But you won't have to deal with pesky things like rumors and the like. You can leave me to deal with all of that. And Arthur too, of course. Maybe in a few months we can claim you died in some tragic accident, you can fade away as if you'd never even be here. And you'll continue living your life away from the castle. You'd just never be able to return, of course. But I really do not think there's much for you here anyway. So, does it not sound nice?" She asked, smiling at him, like she thought Merlin should be dropping onto his knees to thank her with kisses along the bottom of her dress.

The idea actually would have been appealing, being able to leave this place behind and never look back at it. But…that was also the exact thing Arthur once suggested to him. It was ages ago, back when Arthur had first seen Merlin carrying around the flower that Gwen had given him. Arthur had suggested maybe a day would come where Merlin could retire away with one of his villa's, and leave Arthur with what mistress he managed to find. Merlin hadn't been pleased with it then, had been pissed actually. But having Clarissa mentioning the plan-had Arthur talked to her about it or was this just something she had came up with on her own?-agitated him too greatly.

"No, it doesn't sound nice at all. And I hate to tell you this, but I'm not going anywhere anytime soon, so it's probably best if you get that thought out your head if it's not happening." Merlin said bluntly, and maybe it was terrible of him, but he felt pretty good when her smug smile dropped completely. But he had exactly zero fucks to give when it came to Clarissa, and her outrageous ideas to get rid of him. She had rapidly been moving up to number two on his Shit List, right behind Arthur Pendragon himself. "Maybe you should try asking Arthur why it won't be happening. I'm sure he will love to explain to you all about 'what we have together' and our 'love story'. And while you two may have something going on, it won't involve me leaving for many years to come."

Merlin doubted Uther had put in all that he had just for Arthur and Clarissa to ruin it with their own little love affair. Maybe Merlin really would end up alone in a little villa someday, which wasn't a terrible idea as long as Gaius and Morgana and Gwen and his mom, would get to visit him. But it wouldn't be until Arthur and Merlin were finished doing whatever it is that the two of them were doing. And maybe it would not ever end, they were married after all. So maybe this whole scenario was nothing that, just a scenario they would mention to give hope that there was an out for either of them. But the way Merlin saw it, the only way out of this would be if Clarissa really did decided to put a hit out on him. Or if somebody else got greedy, and went to far with their abuse. Or if Merlin didn't want to take any more of what he had been given…Merlin was probably tethering on the whole 'do not tell any person about the contract' by sending Clarissa off to complain about him to Arthur, but he found he didn't care. Let Uther come for him.

"You're pretty sure of yourself, aren't you? Thinking you've got Arthur wrapped around that little finger of yours. But you just wait for it. I bet before the year is up, I'll be the one that has Arthur wrapped around my own. And trust me, I'll keep him on admit far shorter leash than you have, I won't let another woman steal him away from him like you have." Clarissa sneered at Merlin, trying to draw a reaction from the consort. All she got was Merlin giving her a dead stare. Clarissa's jaw started to twitch, but she kept her composure up surprisingly well. "I bet in fact, that Arthur won't have any problems with courting me. Rather or not he has dedicated the rest of his life to-" Clarissa's eyes went up and down Merlin's form, and clearly found Merlin to be lacking in some way. But that wasn't surprising in the least, Merlin was always lacking something to somebody. Nobody could just be happy with what he was, or what little he could offer. "You."

Courting? Merlin thought darkly, with an intense want suddenly searing through him. Not for Arthur, Merlin would never want anything from Arthur again. But he couldn't deny his want to be loved, was tied into with being courted. He'd gotten married so fast, and their circumstances were far from normal, that Merlin had never got the chance to be properly courted. Not by Arthur, or anybody else Merlin could have found any interest in. But Clarissa wouldn't get courted either, at least not by Arthur. A peasant courtship was a lot more relaxed, but Merlin bet that a royal one was far more intense. Probably a lot of public outings, doing meetings with the families to see if it's a good match, expensive gifts that Merlin himself could never afford on his own. In other words, Clarissa would obviously be doomed if she thought for one second that Arthur would defy his father wanting the contract to be seen through, for her.

"In fact, once Arthur and I have had a little talk about what we are going to do with you if you aren't going to disappear in a villa somewhere-" We, Clarissa had used the word 'We.' As if she and Arthur were a thing that was together. As if they combined all their things together. Talked together. Decided things together. A couple decided things together. This annoyed Merlin, mainly because he wasn't even sure if Arthur had any knowledge that Clarissa was practically declaring her own self as his partner. And since Arthur had already tried to cheat on Merlin once with this lady-probably already had since Merlin didn't trust Clarissa denying anything had happened yet, though something must have considering she was pretty sure that she would get Arthur on board with courting her-he didn't strike Merlin as the type of man that would actually court a woman. Or anybody, for that matter. Courting, Merlin had always seen, was something serious. Declaring the intention of someday becoming partners for life if things went good. It wasn't meant for making casual arrangements between two people who didn't intend to marry one day. "I will quite happily accept it when Arthur figures something out, and then asks to have my hand in courtship the same day. Because unlike some people, I know it's not ideal to deny the prince what he wants. I wouldn't be that stupid."

Merlin couldn't help but wonder if everybody in this city was delusional like this. Maybe somebody went and slipped something in the water again, and it was making the people crazy. He already knew there was something wrong with Morris, the guy was some kind of freak that was entirely different from Merlin's own brand of freakiness. But now Clarissa thought there was some kind of future between her and Arthur. But who knows, maybe there was. But it was also far too early to tell if there was anything there. Or what they would expect Merlin to do, because he wasn't going to be chased off to some little villa standing directly in the middle of nowhere. He had said 'no' that first time Arthur had brought it up, and he was going to hold himself to that. He definitely wasn't going to go changing that because 'Clarissa' of all people, was getting ahead of herself. Or maybe she wasn't, how was Merlin to know. He'd been staying as far away as he could from Arthur for a month now…

"…Maybe you should talk things through with Arthur before just deciding his future for him. I think he had enough of other people deciding what he should be doing." Merlin said bluntly, knowing for damn sure he had had enough of it. He doubted Arthur would have been much different from him in that regard. Merlin didn't know much but unless Arthur had fallen in love with this girl in the last month-which seemed pretty soon for him, but what did Merlin know about love other then he wanted it for himself-there was no way he had given her any impression that he would have been willing to do a courtship once they figured out this 'some way' Clarissa kept talking about, that was going to get Merlin out of the way. "And just so that it is on record, if Arthur ever actually asks you to start a courtship, I think it would actually be really stupid to agree with anything he says. Arthur's not exactly the sharpest tool around, more emotionally constipated then anything else to be honest."

Merlin watched Clarissa's eyes flashing again, he did not care one wit about what she thought. For a really strange reason, Merlin couldn't get the words she'd said earlier out of his mind. How she was going to go keeping Arthur on a 'short leash' so no other woman tried to run off with him. What did Merlin know about relationships? Other then that sounded like this really fucked up way to start one up. What would she do to achieve that? Try to keep Arthur locked up inside his room for days at a time? Good luck with that. Arthur wasn't Merlin. The prince was so headstrong, Merlin doubted he would put up with a random girl trying to control his life. Arthur already got pissed off when he told the prince he was doing something wrong.

Clarissa opened her mouth to sneer something at the consort, probably something equally as ridiculous as hearing her and Arthur starting up a courtship all their own, when the subtle clearing of a small voice interrupted them from behind, "Um…Consort Merlin…if I may interrupt, I really would like to know what the decision will be on what kind of silverware we'll need to be used during the night's celebration." A different maid from the one before stood there, holding a large box in her arms.

Merlin stared at her, before subtly starting to pinch at the thin skin on his wrist. This was the only source of pain he would be allowed to give to himself in public company. But he needed more then what a little brief flash of pain could give him. He would need so much more to get through another 'the consort is needed to royally screw up whatever look the royal family had in mind for this random party that he hadn't actually been invited too." God help him.