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!

103. Chapter 103

Merlin stared down at the decorative box the maid held in between her hands. It looked like it stood on the heavier side of things, made out of this deep red wood. With some kind of carvings going up along it's sides, displaying some kind of hunting party with the large bears being struck down by the hunters. Merlin didn't know what that had to do with a container that apparently carried silverware, but it seemed like as if it had been made to impress. Or made to show where the meat they were eating with the utensils had come from. There was also a silvery mesh material that was covering the top, keeping all of the dirt and stray bug from dirtying up their silverware. The meshy material on top kind of reminded Merlin of the kind that all the knights wore underneath their armor, so that none of the metal chafed the skin itself.

"Choosing the right kind of silverware is something important, Consort Merlin. If you choose the wrong one, King Bayard will be entirely unimpressed and he could even be offended and take that it against Uther and the kingdom as a whole." Clarissa crooned at him from behind, casually picking at her long nails, acting as if she wasn't paying attention to everything Merlin was doing. "And that's only if Bayard is a man that is quick to anger. I haven't yet received the honor to be introduced to him yet. But if you're lucky, the king will take only a mild offense, and might think you are only trying to play around with him. A consort needs to be able to think of these things, and think of everything that could upset a guest. The wrong colors could go so far as to offset the mood. The wrong choices for a meal could prove fatal if you don't know rather or not your guest has any allergies that need to be taken to consideration. And just so you know, Bayard doesn't have any."

The maid in front of Merlin looked as if she had fallen in love with Clarissa sometime during her very short explanation of what Merlin should be doing. She was flushed face, and her eyes were gleaming, and she'd even squeaked the one time Clarissa had turned and looked at her for all of half a second. It was very likely the maid was thinking how cool Clarissa was and how amazing it was that Clarissa had taken the newest of the royal family under her wing. To teach Merlin all of the ends and out's of royalty, that somebody should have taken the time to teach him before he became their actual consort.

But Merlin was smarter then people gave him credit for, and he knew Clarissa wasn't doing this out of the goodness of her own heart. She was flaunting herself in front of him, showing Merlin how much better she would be as Arthur's Consort, without showing him up in front of the maid. It was sorely a power move by Clarissa, a taunt to show Merlin that he would only be failing again. Because Clarissa thought him to be so ill-suited for the lifestyle of consort, that he couldn't pick out a simple set of silverware. Silverware wasn't exactly complicated, it was what? A knife and a fork, it was something people used to eat with. It wasn't as if Merlin was trying to fight in a battlefield, running like mad while trying to protect his head. Resisting all instinct to use his magic to keep himself safe.

Though Bayard…that was a new name that he hadn't heard before. Merlin could only assume that he was the reason for this party he hadn't been invited to for being thrown. Was it some kind of welcoming party, to greet the king as he arrived at the doors of the city itself? Merlin didn't get it, but he could understand all the reason for this pomp and circumstances, why he was being hounded to pick things he had no interest in and was just guessing at. A visiting king was often seen as a pretty big deal, though Merlin had not once been apart of any celebration so big. Unless one was wanting to count his wedding, but Merlin hadn't liked thinking about that day. Bayard though, wasn't a king to Merlin's homelands. So he had to be a king to one of the other three large kingdoms that made up their country. Merlin might not have the education like the Lady Clarissa did, but he knew his basic geography at least.

"I think I can handle this next part for myself, it's only choosing a table set. I don't think it takes two sets of eyes to choose from." Merlin said back, he had teeth pressed against each other tightly. He hadn't liked it when Clarissa had mentioned this 'Bayard' having no allergies. At that point, she was just showing off her superior knowledge and initiative to figure things out. All traits that might have been prized inside of a city's consort. But Merlin could do this one on his own. "It's not difficult to choose between one pair of silverware from the other."

Clarissa made a subtle unladylike snort from behind him, and while the maid didn't say anything about the behavior, Merlin could only feel anxiety swoop inside of him. It was stupid. There were people he knew of personally, that were struggling to get a few bites of meager food. And here Merlin was, anxiety ridden for not knowing which silverware was apparently better then any other. Merlin hadn't even know the kingdom had more than one set of silverware at their disposal to pick and choose from till five minutes ago. Maybe he just hadn't been paying enough attention when he first got here, and was still having his meals delivered to his Royal suite. Or maybe that had only been given him the same set for his own personal use? That was a stupid thing to do, considering Merlin was used to using the same wooden and chipped spoons that his mother had traded a knitted blanket from the woman that lived down the street to obtain them.

"Well, sire, myself and the other girls thought it might be best to help out a little for your first time. And we managed to narrow it down to at least ten options for you to decide from." The maid said helpfully, undoing the latch on the box. And Merlin felt his face drop by this knowledge. Ten…they wanted him to choose one set out of ten? Who the hell had ten different sets of utensils to use to begin with? And the maid had gone and choose that ten? How many utensils were being stashed in the kitchens? "These are the very best the kingdom has to offer. So I hope at least one of these will be an acceptable use for someone of the King's standards!"

This Bayard guy must have been a really fussy fellow, Merlin thought, gripping his wrist tightly in his other hand. Surely Clarissa had just been exaggerating by claiming this Bayard guy would get offended if Merlin choose the wrong thing. Surely a kind had far better things to be concerned about over rather or not the sorcerer had chosen silverware that would match the decor, or whatever it was that these rich people were looking for. It sounded so stupid for people to have a fuss about. But Merlin had also seen nobles throwing about a fuss over the most ridiculous of things since he had been in the city. It didn't sound as if it would be completely out of the realm of possibilities. Maybe being king only meant that this Bayard guy was even more picky then the normal nobles stalking around the place.

The maid finally got the latch opened, and the lid was popped up to reveal the treasure inside. And the boy leaned over to stare inside of the box, and then took a step back. Merlin's eye was starting to twitch with the disbelief. Those…those were unlike any pieces of silverware Merlin had ever seen in his life. They were all gleaming in succession, obviously having been so recently cleaned. Just one of them could have gotten Merlin and his mother fed for over a year, they looked that expensive. All ten pairs sitting on what looked to be a velvety black cushion because apparently things people eat with were important enough to be sat on a cushion. Instead of tossed in a drawer somewhere to be left until the next meal came upon them.

Merlin found himself pinching even harder on the bit of meat that was around his wrist. Or at least where a bit of meat should have been, but wasn't there. As he was made out of nothing but skin and bones. But the pain was good, grounding…he needed more…and the consort dug his fingernails into the flesh. Merlin was fully aware that he was letting Clarissa get to him and he was almost sure Camelot would probably get into a war just because this Bayard guy preferred the one utensil set that had swirls decorated on the handle of it, instead of the one that had red gems situated into the center. Rich people problems, that were going to effect everyone. And if their was a war, people would actually have a real reason to treat him badly…

"We'll go on ahead, Consort Merlin, they aren't going to jump out and pick themselves for you. I wouldn't let the whole 'Bayard might get offended' get to you. I'm sure he won't say anything that would offend the kingdom's newest consort. I'm sure I was just being overly cautious." Clarissa said helpfully, waving one of her hands in the air, flipping it at the wrist. Merlin was sure this was only for the maid's benefit. Nobles usually didn't care for what their servants thought of them, but maybe Clarissa was already working to get on the people's good side. But then again, there was not a single person that could be any worse at any of this then Merlin had been. It was worse then when he had chosen the plates, because he was forced with enduring Clarissa as his audience. "I'm sure even if Bayard does find offense, Prince Arthur would find a way to smooth things over with him. So there will not be anything to worry about."

Clarissa could pretend to help him all that she would want to, but the second Merlin heard the name of his husband being spoken, his stomach swooped. Merlin had a sudden burst of anxiety so strong, that he dug his nails into his wrists so hard, he had to grit down his teeth when he felt the sting of his flesh as it was being torn. Just the sound of Arthur's name caused him this irrational reaction, an itch forming under his skin, and a whisper forming in his ears. Whispering in dark succession, in a voice that sounded extremely, suspiciously, like Arthur. Telling him that he wouldn't be good enough. That he couldn't succeed in what was probably the simplest task he had been given. It didn't matter that Merlin had learned how to put his armor on for him after only two tries, he wouldn't be able to pick the right fork.

Mother fuck…

Merlin reached into the box blindly, grabbing at one set of the silverware. It didn't matter how long Merlin stood here stressing himself half to death over it, he just knew that somebody was going to complain as if it was the end of the world. Merlin could pick one and hope that it wasn't offensive enough to hurt anyone's delicate sensibilities. Merlin had grabbed onto a fork that held a little red gem embedded into the hilt of it, when he heard the subtle giggling coming from Lady Clarissa behind him. Merlin gritted his teeth…each of the silverware looked no different in terms of beauty then the other. So what made this one more out to be more laughable then any of the other one's he could have picked?

"Excuse me, if I am overstepping my place here, my consort, but I was actually thinking of something that would be more appropriate. That particular design on that one would be more fitting for something like Yule tide. To celebrate the height of the winter months but it's hardly something to welcome the king with." Said the Lady. She casually nudged Merlin out of her way, but it might as well have been a shove from the way Merlin jolted away from her. "If you want to welcome a king, I think a better option would be-" Clarissa was slowly scanning her eyes over the choices before her as if she was the one that was supposed to make the final choice all along. "This set."

Merlin gritted down his teeth hard, when she plucked a set out of the box. He could admit that the utensils were as beautiful and as fine as any other in the box had been. The fork had a large and solid ring around the end of the handle, and Clarissa was holding onto it with her finger through the ring. It really didn't look any different then the one Merlin had chosen. And it left Merlin angry and confused and embarrassed, by this. What made the one Merlin had chosen better to be used during Yule? And what made the set Clarissa had chosen good enough for this pocket king to use for his meal?

"What do you think Consort Merlin, it is your choice after all. If you don't like it, just say the word and we can pick something different. We've got plenty other options to choose from if we must. But I really do feel good about this one." Clarissa said, playing with the ring on the end. Running her slim digits-just as slight as Merlin's own but with a much healthier glow when compared to the consort's-around and around along the ring in a sensual motion. "The ring I believe would indicate strength. And the darker coloring could also indicate solidarity. A slate grey shade is perhaps a bit boring, but we don't want to get too ahead of things. There is every chance that the situation between the two kings may not go as planned, and we don't want to use something more festive in case things do not go as we hope they will."

There she goes, using that word again: we. Clarissa had said 'we' several times within that moment, as if she and Merlin were partners who were deciding the decorations together. She would have take over the task completely if she could, making herself out like the pseudo consort in his place. He didn't want the job of Consort, but Merlin couldn't deny that it was getting under his skin. That she thought she could just walk in and take the stupid thing from him. Merlin had no doubt that the only reason Clarissa offered to have him change it if he didn't like it, was because it was some kind of trick. If Merlin did agree with what she had, then Clarissa had bragging right if the party turned out alright. And if Merlin didn't go with it, and everything went wrong, then Clarissa could say that the 'mood' was off from his choices and it had been enough to upset this Bayard.

Bayard, who…Merlin was starting to believe that this man wasn't just showing up for a friendly visit. Just a meeting among kings, to discuss whatever kings did whenever they weren't running a country. Merlin was able to pick up context clues, even if it did take him a few minutes to put them together. Clarissa talked as if there was an actual reason for Bayard to be coming here in the first place. Something that was far more serious then just 'he was just passing through and he decided to stop by and visit another king.' It was just a party, was it? Good god, if Merlin really did start up a war because he decided on the wrong silverware, then he was going to hang himself. Just coil the rope around his throat, and maybe bang himself from that fancy chandelier hanging in the throne room.

"Well, Consort Merlin, will you approve of it? Or will you like to take another gander at what's left inside of the box?" Clarissa asked, her smug smile starting to grow more, taunting Merlin and daring him to try to choose one that was better then the one she had chosen. And it was absolutely infuriating, probably the most emotion Merlin had felt since his depression had hit him hard. It was just another show for the girl to show how much better suited she would be as the consort. Because seriously? A ring showing strength and a solid color showing solidarity? That was one of the stupidest things Merlin had heard of during this last hour alone. "I can assure you, I can take rejection quite well. If you have another vision for what you will want this party to look like, I can hardly argue against our esteemed consort."

Merlin didn't say a single word to the lady, knowing that anything he said to the lady in that moment was going to be entirely unpleasant. But Clarissa didn't seem surprised when Merlin stepped back up to the box, fully intent on picking out his own damn silver, one that wouldn't cause a war on the horizon. For all Merlin knew, Clarissa had picked the one she had out deliberately. How could Merlin trust that Clarissa had not picked out that pair to start this war on purpose? Okay, maybe that was his own paranoia, because not even she would go so far as to start a war. But maybe she wanted Merlin to take credit for choosing it, then whip out the proper ones that needed to be used for this particular event after Merlin got crapped all over for his 'choices'.

Merlin felt more comfortable making his own choice for once, even if it did end up being the wrong one in the end. Because there was no way that one set of cookware could upset somebody so much. Anyway, Merlin picked one of the other sets. It was far more simpler then the one that Clarissa picked, and the consort doubted it could have been seen as 'strong' or shown to have 'solidarity'-odd things for a single set of silverware to say in the first place. The ones in his hands were long, and their were silver swirls that were carved along the handle of the blade. It almost reminded Merlin of water. Not the poisoned water he knew had tried to kill everybody last month. But more like the gushing and pounding waves of this heavy stream as the water rushed through it. There was this river that ran alongside Ealdor's borders, and while it had never been particularly strong-more gentle and calm-it still reminded Merlin of simpler times.

"Hmmm, perhaps you have learned something during your stay here after all." Clarissa pointed out, with the cocky smirk brimming on her voice. She reached out and placed her silverware back into the box for their maid to take away with her. "It isn't smart to have the consort following along with whatever whoever says. It's generally not smart to trust other people to begin with, but it's even more true for noble kind. You never know who's waiting in the wings to ruin you, to take your spot in society. So, I suppose those aren't the most hideous choice you could have made."

Most peasants would have probably gotten excited to know they had gotten the approval of a lady like Clarissa. But this was also the same woman who was planning to steal everything he had. She could have it if that was an option, but trying to take it for herself had given Merlin a nasty feeling. And now, Merlin was cold all over, the slice of ice slowly going downwards over his spine and making him feel every single inch of it. He had been right to choose his own stuff, but Clarissa really had been trying to trick him. He would have to remember what she had said, 'people were waiting to ruin him just so they could have the spot of consort'. Merlin loathed taking any advice from such a girl, but Merlin had been tasting people 'ruining him since the day he got in the city. How many of them desired to be consort? And how many of them were hurting him because Merlin had swooped in and took what could have been somebody else's position.

The maid cleared her throat, sharp and grumbling as she gave Merlin a dirty stare. It took Merlin a second to realize he was still holding the set he had chosen to be used, and he quickly dropped them back into the box to be taken back to the kitchen. And Merlin yelped, having to yank back his red stained fingers from the box when the maid sharply snapped it back shut. The heavy top of it nearly clipped his fingers, it was so heavy handed that the box lid possibly could have damaged his fingers, if not outright broken the digits, if it had landed directly on top.

The maid didn't seem to care how rude she was, or that a move like that would have left her in the stocks if she had tried it with Arthur or Uther. The maid gave the consort a sharp and crisp nod of her head, while Merlin cradled his nearly wounded fingers toward his chest. And then the maid gave an actual bow toward Clarissa, leaving the lady preening under this sort of attention. The maid scurried off down the hall, while holding tightly onto the box as she made her way to the kitchens, to give the girls the set Merlin choose, so they could dig out the chest that had mdozens and dozens of the same style silverware. Enough for all to use.

It was the little things like that, that the servants were liable to do. Unlike the cocky noble knights who were convinced nobody could touch them no matter what they did, the servants at least kept their hands away from him. It was never anything big enough for Merlin to complain about without sounding stupid or like the child that wouldn't stop tattle telling whenever a child so much as looked at him funny. But then again, none of what the knights did-even when they have gotten more and more aggressive-had him running towards the hills as fast as he could manage. All the servants have seemed to strive together to make sure that he knew he wasn't wanted. Ignoring him or turning their backs whenever he had first tried to talk to them. All but shunning him completely from the peasant world that he had once been apart of.

"You know, little boy-" Merlin shivered in discontent when he heard that stupid nickname the lady said as the maid whipped around the corner, his hand going down to fit his nails directly into the wounds shaped like his fingernails he had made just before the maid had interrupted them, hidden only for the length of his jacket sleeve. "I believe that I have been behaving very generous during our conversation. I have gone out of my way and given you an out, give you the one chance you needed to leave the duties of consort far behind you. And yet, you have not given me even one inch to work for, have you?"

Merlin blinked, feeling the pain shooting up his arm as he dug his nails deeper into his wrist. Needing to find something to keep him grounded when he felt as if he could float away at any second. It would've been concerning, considering out of all the thing he could have done, floating wasn't one of them. It took Merlin a second to realize that Clarissa had returned back to their previous conversation. Picking up from where'd she stopped off before they had been interrupted, as if the maid hadn't stopped them in the least.

"But I do suppose that's a good trait to have. It could be something that helps elevates you into becoming a proper consort. You know, for as long as you keep holding onto the title." Clarissa continued, waving her two fingers in Merlin's direction, smiling calmly while continuing to speak as if whatever she had with the prince behind his back was already a done deal in the making. "Though I really do believe you should go an extra mile, and get rid of the cheek you have on you. It's not befitting of a consort, though…I suppose that it doesn't matter. Since it's probably the only thing I will allow you to keep once you've been left with not one thing other then the clothes on your back. Since you won't just leave quietly and without fuss."

Merlin felt the hot slick of his own blood starting to slide across his hand, making the grip he had on his wrist want to slide loose. But Merlin held strong onto it, his body turned away from Clarissa being the only reason the lady hadn't known his predicament. But honestly, Merlin thought, what in the world had his husband been doing to this woman? Had Arthur gone and made promises to her that he had never made to Merlin. Arthur had already mentioned wanting to get Merlin sent away so that he could find somebody far more proper. Merlin had accused him of choosing the lady in front of him, but he didn't think the man ever gave him a proper answer. Merlin should have gone and pushed a bit harder, demanded to know exactly what Arthur thought about the woman that wanted to keep him on a 'short leash'. At least Merlin wouldn't have been so blindsided by the confrontation that he should have known was coming right from the start.

"…You do realize that despite what you think, I won't be going anywhere anytime." Though, Merlin really did wish that he could just leave, he wouldn't put up a fuss as Clarissa had so eloquently put it. If Merlin wasn't so convinced that the king would send all his knights after him before Merlin even got to the gates of the city, he might have already tried. "Arthur and I made our vows on the day of our wedding, swearing to live our lives together. Till death do us part, and all that. So, Arthur can't court you. Not a proper one, at least. The only thing you can hope for is maybe a few private dates where you won't be seen. That isn't the best basis for a relationship, is it?"

Was Merlin really giving him own unsolicited advice on relationships? Merlin's relationship included the blond haired man stepping out on him while he was slowly dying on the inside. Slowly and painfully. That wasn't exactly somebody that should be telling any other person what they should be doing. Though, he could feel the stir of bile trying to force its way slowly up his esophagus when he remembered his wedding day. And those stupid vows he had been forced into taking. Merlin wanted to say those vows had actually meant something to him, but that would have been a lie. He wished they could mean something to him. To take care of each other through sickness and health and everything else they had promised each other. It would have been…nice, seemed to be too little of a word, but it was the only word that would have been the bare minimum of what Merlin could have hoped for….to know they had meant something to Arthur as well. But that was just the nativity inside Merlin trying to rear it's ugly head again.

"Oh, those vows and just a formality, but most people understand that they rarely actually mean anything during this day and age." Clarissa said, with a dainty wave of her hand. She easily made Merlin feel stupid, for actually wanting to take their vows to heart at one point. The consort couldn't help but wonder just how many affairs Clarissa had witnessed, where she saw absolutely nothing wrong with starting up one of her own. With a man born as high up the social standings like Arthur was. "You must be really naive for thinking Arthur will abide to those vows for very long. And not at all once I have made a proper move on him." As it the move she had made on Arthur inside his quarters before Merlin had caught them hadn't been enough of a move for her. Probably wasn't, since Merlin had stopped their chance of making babies together.

Merlin hated himself, and wanted to take one of the sword's Arthur took care of so lovingly more then he ever had Merlin, and carve his own fucking throat out when he allowed his eyes to drop down onto the floor to avoid meeting eyes with Clarissa. He had his nails digging deeper, and it would be a miracle if his wrist didn't look mauled by a bear by the time he let go of it. Clarissa had seen his nativity, and thrown it back in his face. Amusing herself with every stabbing words given to him. Merlin couldn't even call the woman a home wrecker, because there had never ever been a home for her to wreck. Clarissa may not know it, but she behaved as if she had took pleasure in wrecking whatever she thought he and Arthur were. Besides…Arthur had already gotten there first. The prince had gone out of his way to destroy any home they could have made together in this castle. Had smashed the pieces under his horrible touch long before they had even had a foundation to stand on top of. Not even a friendship or truce could have been forced now. The consort had been hurt too much to allow Arthur to go and fuck him up all over again. There wasn't anything in his future to look forward too. All Merlin could see was spending his days avoiding Arthur, and anybody else who wanted to come after him. And hope that an event like tonight wouldn't be the only event that he was not going to be invited too.

"It might be tomorrow, or it may not happen for years to come when it comes down to it, but one day, I truly think that I could be next in line for getting Camelot's throne." Clarissa said, her dark skin nearly glowing in her excitement. One would have thought she'd long since forgotten that she was talking to the husband of the man who was next in line for the throne that Clarissa had her eyes fixated on. Clarissa turned to Merlin, the look in her eyes disappearing, though she smiled at him as if they were sharing some kind of secret between the two of them only. "But Merlin, I really do hope that it won't end up being your death that allows the empty spot beside Arthur. If you are still alive by the time comes, I think it will be quite…pleasurable…for you to watch as I take everything that you have."

Merlin swallowed down, forcing his salvia past a huge lump that had formed somewhere in the middle of his throat. So, this was it. This was the real Clarissa, just a woman who took pleasure in seeing all destruction in her path. It really was a far cry from the sweet and gentle babying show she had been putting on when they had both been in Arthur's presence. Did Arthur know this side of Clarissa existed? Or had the prince only saw the side of her that she had wanted him to see. It was disgusting how people could put on one show for somebody, and then do a complete change in personality for somebody else.

"So, that's it, that's what you want then? You're only doing all of this, because you want to be the one that sits on Arthur's throne?" Merlin asked the woman, he hadn't thought of it before but it made perfect sense in his mind. It wasn't surprising to find that there was people who wanted Arthur's throne, even people that would go the extra mile to try and get it from another who had it. Him. "Do you even like Arthur? Or is it just what he can give you that you want?"

Merlin knew he was starting to hate Arthur, not even a month of not seeing him had been able to stop that fact. Arthur was the reason he was depressed, why it had taken Gaius throwing him out of the house just to get him out of his bed. And causing Merlin to actually hate, was a hard thing to do. Merlin didn't hate all the village kids back home who would take turns shoving him around-though to a much lighter extent when he compared it to Camelot. Merlin didn't hate his father, who had left his mother to raise her bastard son on her own, facing the scornful looks given to a woman who had a child born out of wedlock. No matter how much good she did around Ealdor. But Merlin knew it wasn't his father's fault, he had already been left and went on his way before his mother had found out she was expecting. He didn't even hate Uther, for all that he had done against Merlin and his people. The king was just…the king. But the only thing Merlin felt when it came to his husband, was distaste and anger…that was better then the times where Merlin had felt not a thing. Nothing. Empty. Because he couldn't carry on the strength needed to hate somebody.

But he could feel something new stirring in his gut, it almost startled him to realize he felt it at all: pity. The Consort of Camelot pitied the Prince he was married off too. How many people had approached Arthur, to get his attention before they had married, only to get close to the prince himself. Merlin would bet none of them knew Arthur's favorite color was blue, or knew he was nothing but a bully in the best circumstances. None of them would know or care about any of that, because they were all so blinded by the gold of the crown Arthur wore. And Arthur probably knew about the girls that wanted him for the crown. It would most definitely explain why Arthur had kept trying to give him things. Had tried offering for his room to get all paved in gold, or whatever he had been insisting on when he tried throwing offers out at him. It definitely didn't erase the pain of feeling like nothing but a gold digger, somebody who only wanted to leach off the prince for what he had. But it would at least explain a bit of his actions. If that was all he knew, then how in the world would Arthur be able to know that Merlin had wanted to try for real. Because he wanted to be happy. Not because he thought it would cause Arthur to give him more things.

Clarissa gave a little laugh, the kind that made Merlin feel naive and stupid for even asking, "Well of course that's the reason. Why else would anybody pay a bit of attention to Arthur otherwise? And even you have to admit that he's handsomer then some of the other nobles running around this place, so it isn't a horrible deal. And having a marriage to him would give all the best perks. As I'm sure even you are aware of by this point in your marriage. But mostly, I have to admit it's quite fun. Aren't you having fun?"

No, Merlin was most certainly not having fun. He was never going to have fun another day in his life. Merlin was never going to run, wild and free and innocent as he tried to mimic having no responsibilities and not a single secret that kept him barred away from the rest of society. But Clarissa was having fun…and she was also wrong. Merlin would have paid attention to what Arthur said to him, would have watched him curiously as he did whatever he did around the castle, and the consort would have fucking studied every single little fact there was to know about the prince. Hell, Merlin had in those first few weeks. And it wasn't because it was a boy destined to wear a crown. It was because Merlin wanted to know who the fuck his husband was going to be. And let's just say, Arthur had fucked him up over it.

"Well," Merlin started slowly, the lump in his throat felt like it had grown bigger, making it hard for him to speak. His wrist was throbbing from where his nails were digging in, but it was a dull ache that felt all too easy to ignore. When Merlin wasn't able to ignore a damn thing otherwise. "If this whole plan thing you have going on works out, I hope that you and Arthur can get on together. It sounds as if you two really do deserve each other, after all."

Clarissa looked as if she saw this as a compliment, to be seen as evenly matched with the same caliber as a prince. But only Merlin could see it for the insult he knew it was. One fucked up prince deserved to live a miserable life with the fucked up Lady. They really do deserve each other, Merlin thought. He would go and hand over his ring right the fuck now if he thought he would be able to walk out of this castle, and not have to look back towards it ever again. Just start walking down the road until he found his way back to Ealdor. So, why did he feel as if his throat had just now been crushed to death. Why did he feel so drained about it all…it was because of the stupid question that Merlin felt was plaguing him.

Should he tell Arthur?

The Merlin from before wouldn't have hesitated with telling Arthur about the woman who only wanted to have his crown. For all Merlin knew, the reason that Clarissa wanted to lay with Arthur and try to have his babies was because it would have been a far easier way to trap him in. It would be kinda hard to deny the fact of the matter if the baby came out looking like a mini-Arthur. It might not make Clarissa queen, but he was sure carrying a Pendragon heir would give her whatever validation she was looking for. But who he was now…Merlin wanted to say, fuck it. If Arthur was dumb enough to fall for the sweet act Clarissa puts on for him, then he deserved whatever happened to him. And if Merlin ended up having to be the guy that stood in the background while Arthur played around with a happy family, then…at least Arthur would have been far too busy to even think about him ever again.

But it was also a moral question now. If Merlin told the prince all about Clarissa, then the consort could wash his hands of it and say that he warned Arthur of what could happen. And if Arthur ended up forced to have a child he probably didn't want, with the woman attached to it, then that was entirely Arthur's fault in the matter. But then again…Merlin would have to go and seek him out to tell him these things. And right there alone, was enough of a reason to leave Arthur to whatever his fate was. Merlin knew Arthur wasn't going to listen, and Merlin didn't feel like sticking one more quill into Arthur's hand just to get his attention like he had the last time.

"You know, you don't seem to be nearly as upset by all of this as I imagined you would have been. Being a consort is one of the most sought after positions in the entire kingdom, one that many people would go through great lengths to get to. Even after the prince has been married, the flow has barely decreased in the least." Clarissa noted, eyeing Merlin curiously. He could only figure that Clarissa had probably assumed Merlin would have given her a larger reaction to what she wanted. Did she expect for him to throw a fit over all of this? Did Clarissa expect for him to just throw himself onto the ground, and start screaming as if he had just had his heart wrenched out of his chest. The joke was on her though, Merlin had already done his mourning over his mess of a relationship. And it had not ended up with him screaming. He had gone and cried himself to sleep for a few nights here and there, but he hadn't screamed. "Do you not think I happen to be beautiful enough to win over a prince?"

Merlin stared at her, entirely unamused by the turn in topic. Beautiful? Clarissa's looks had not one thing to do with their conversation. Merlin had always known, even when he was too young to really understand, he preferred strong arms wrapped around him. Instead of the soft curves of a woman. But Merlin was gayer then anybody he had ever met, and there was not a thing about Clarissa's looks that interested him. But he could see somebody who was straight like Arthur, may go for somebody like Clarissa. She didn't have any of the gangly limbs that Merlin had, she didn't have hair that wouldn't lie flat or eyes that were just a bit too wide. Clarissa was probably betting her looks would be enough to grab Arthur's attention, and then whatever skill she had as a Lady of the Court to keep it. Was everybody in Camelot so shallow, that they thought only looks and positions in the court could give then anything they wanted in the world. Even if what they wanted was a married man.

"Or maybe you just don't think I can do it because you have somehow managed to turn Arthur gay for you." Clarissa continued on, without giving Merlin a chance to say a thing about her 'beautiful' comment. Anybody else would have sounded as if they were going on a rampage, but Clarissa managed to sound completely in control of herself. She was more of a classy lady, and knew how to keep any temper she may have had, in check. It was much funnier to see other people losing themselves in anger, though she had yet to see any real anger coming from the boy in front of her. "But I am a confident woman. If you were able to catch Arthur's attention, then I am positive I'll be able to turn him straight again. He only needs the proper attention, of course." And she sniffed up her nose at Merlin, as if he was nothing more then the scum residue under her heels. "It shouldn't be too hard, he married 'you' after all."

Merlin still didn't react, other then the lift of a brow as he stared at her. Merlin had came from the middle of nowhere's, and even he knew a bit about his own sexuality. Not much, but at least enough to know that people didn't choose what they were. And there was no changing who they were born to be. He had gone and learned that was true the hard way, by crushing on a straight man. But even Arthur had once thought Merlin could 'pass the gay' onto him, because Merlin had set that straight. And now Clarissa was acting as if people could just pick and choose who it was that they liked. If that was true, Merlin wouldn't have been spending a week trying to win over Arthur, even after he knew Arthur would only spit in his face if he tried again. Apparently, sexuality wasn't high on choices of topic when deciding what their noble daughters or sons needed to be educated on.

"Or maybe the reason you are not upset is because I was actually right about what I mentioned earlier. You are inexperienced with the way we do things and this has caused you to start rethinking the decision to go through with this marriage in full." Clarissa started to smirk, looking as if she had finally figured everything out. But Merlin knew that she couldn't have been any more wrong if she tried. There was no 'rethinking his decision'. Because as far as Merlin had any concerns about it, he didn't get to think about it. It was a done deal. His own mother had said there wasn't any way to get him out of it. "So, tell me Merlin. Are you going to leave to a villa like I suggested? It may actually be the smart decision, and I really do think that it would be worth looking into. But, if your choice in decor will be anything to go by, I think we can already take the gander and say you don't make smart decisions very often, do you?"

Merlin knew he had just been called stupid, in a very 'noble' way, without saying the actual words. He was stupid because…he wasn't able to pick out what she had thought was proper silverware? It was probably an insult against other nobles, but Merlin wasn't any noble. He was as peasant as they came, and so what if he didn't know the difference between the designs on the silverware? Merlin didn't want to be a guy who only stood around picking out decorations and looks anyway, it was pointless! His entire life till this point in time, had involved making sure that his little family of two had enough food on the table. He hadn't ran off when he ended up going two weeks without food the one year a winter storm had wiped away everything they had. And he wasn't going to run away to some villa just because a prissy noble wanted his husband. Even if it was going to kill him in the end. Merlin was …well, he wasn't strong. He couldn't feel this horrible about himself and still be considered strong. But he was willing to wait it out, see how much longer it was going to take before the sweet abyss of death got its hooks into him.

"Is this actually going anywhere, or is this just your way of telling me that I'm not cut out to be Camelot's consort? Again." Merlin said quietly, realizing that this was only going around in circles. This whole situation with the villa…it wasn't actually going to happen. She needed to stop speaking as if it was. If wasn't exactly that easy. Merlin couldn't tie a ribbon around the man and deliver Arthur to be, ready to be wedded with the other woman. Life didn't work like that. "Because I'm sure there are other duties that I have to get back too now. Busy life and all…being a consort…"

Another reason why Merlin wanted to go and fetch a tub, like the one he had bathed in just because he'd been married. Another reason why Merlin wanted to sit inside of it, not to get undressed. And it was one more reason why Merlin wanted to slip underneath the water, hear nothing but the muffled sounds that came from above the surface, and see how long he would need before he drowned himself. Did Clarissa think she was the first to tell him how horrible he was at everything he did. Did Clarissa think that he hadn't heard it all a thousand times before, mostly from the prince himself? Merlin wasn't built for a life like this, it wasn't okay to live in an environment where he had cursed thrown at him every time he would fail when it came to the simplest of tasks. Merlin didn't want to be defined by this time, he didn't want to be known as the Unwanted Consort, who couldn't even blink to himself without someone else telling him he'd done it wrong. His only mark made on the world…seemed to be how horrible he was at living it.

"Merlin, Merlin, there is no reason to lie to me. I know you don't have anywhere to be. Or at least, you don't know what needs doing so you have no idea where'd you'll be going. I mean, your not exactly the type that knows how to plan a proper party. Do you even know the difference between a soup spoon and a spoon to be used for our dinner. Do you know when during the dinner, the bowl that is meant for cleaning our fingers are going to be brought out? Do you know what you'll suppose to say when addressing a king during a first meeting? I mean, if Arthur even has the nerve to keep you out during the visit. That's a huge risk right there and I'm not sure I would have been able to do it. The prince is clearly a braver man then I would be should he allow you to walk free."

Clarissa wasn't wrong, and Merlin could feel just how inadequate he was for not knowing one thing about all the things she had listen. It caused him to shrink in on himself, feeling as if he was no bigger then one simple flea in front of her presence. Planning a party? The only parties Merlin had ever attended was when they had the rare moment to celebrate something, so everybody would gather in the middle of town around a large bonfire. Dancing and laughing as they tried to forget what hard work the morning would bring them all. There was also the matter of the spoons…did one spoon not work for any other dish? Merlin would have to be the last person to realize there was more then a single type of spoon for different meals. It was like all these people were purposely trying to make all of the simplest things, far more difficult then they should be right now. What was this about a cleaning bowl? Why would people bother washing their fingers during the same meal? Why not wait until they were finished off with their food before using one of those cloth things they used for napkins. Merlin had already figured out at some point that just saying 'hey, my name is Merlin it's nice to meet you', was not something to say when it came to these people. But how different would that be, speaking to a king instead of the nobles…it would probably need a greeting that was more flowery and with far more words then it needed to be….he could feel his head swimming when faced with how much knowledge he apparently lacked. But he also wasn't sure if it was just because of his lack of knowledge, or if it was from the blood seeping along his wrist as it drained out of his body…

"I, on the other hand, have known about those things long before I was even old enough to seriously look at marriage matches. And I know plenty more where that comes from. Everybody knows how much Arthur wishes to be a strong leader, it's common knowledge how much he looks up to his father. And probably the only way Arthur can do that, would be if he was able to have a strong woman behind him. Taking care of all things on the home front, so that he doesn't have to worry about anything. He needs a woman who can make choices, and knows what the best ways to get them executed would be. What he doesn't need is a man, who executes his own choices very poorly. One man who doesn't know even the basics…that could lead to some very disastrous results."

Merlin tilted his head to the side, trying to see things the way that Clarissa saw them. She obviously didn't know Arthur very well, Merlin didn't either but not for lack of trying. How would Arthur feel, knowing there was somebody out there who thought the only thing the prince needed to become great…was to have the strong woman that was Clarissa, who would take the spot directly behind him. Arthur was…hard headed in his own way, strong in a way that seemed like he was spewing toxic masculinity. The prince thought he had taken out Valiant on his own. The prince thought he'd taken out the muck monster on his own. Merlin knew as sure as he knew this place was killing him, Arthur was not going to like some woman trying to come in and take over. But it would be funny…seeing Arthur trying to diffuse a situation with a lady. With Merlin, Arthur was always putting his hands on him, trying to enforce his own will. But Merlin somehow doubted that same prince-who had defended Clarissa the last time all of their paths had crossed-would try doing the same tactic with a woman.

Clarissa didn't seem to notice Merlin barely paid her any attention, and she twirled a tuff of her hair along her finger, "My father has done very well, and he has made sure I am everything a man would want to have in his household. I am well educated, and know how a household should be maintained, and I know I have a good breeding stock, if the other women within my family are anything to go by. Of course, my father did not dare set his sights on someone as high as Arthur is. There is only one prince, and there are many who would want him. It's only a shame who he has ended up with, for the time being. But tell me Merlin, I find myself quite curiously, what did your father, a simple peasant man, teach his son on how to become good spouse?"

Merlin jolted to attention, surprised to hear his father being brought up in conversation. The father that he had never met and would probably never meet. The one that had signed away Merlin's right to be allowed to choose who he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. Before he had even been inside of his mother's womb. Clarissa had made herself sound like she was a horse, unintentional or not. Something to go ahead and bargain her place in society with what noble skill she had. Courtesy of her own father. But what would Merlin's father had done to prepare him for this day if he had been around?

Would Merlin have known about the contract earlier if his father had been around? Or would he have rather kept it hidden, and agreed with his mother that there was no reason for him to know until they couldn't get away with hiding it any longer. And if Merlin had been told about it when he was a kid, would his father had been able to sit him down and teach him about all the consort knowledge he needed to know? All of those things that Clarissa talked about as if they should've been second knowledge: different type spoons and greeting foreign royalties and not embarrassing both himself and his future husband. Would his father had even known how to teach him? Merlin's father was in no way, an important man. He had somehow found himself important enough to be friends with a king, but his father held no land. No money or titles of his own, as far as Merlin knew. So, would this man have been able to help him? Or would this…Balinor…have been as lost as Merlin himself was.

But Merlin supposed it didn't matter. His father would not be here, he was just a mystery man that caused a large shadow of 'who the fuck was he' in the back of Merlin's mind. His mother though…she would always be something else entirely. She had taught Merlin far more then anybody else had, taught him things that were clearly lacking in Clarissa's knowledge. Things like…how to be kind. Or to lend a helping hand down to those who needed it. How to be strong when there was an entire world of people who would look down on her for raising a bastard son, even when they had the nerve to show up at their house expecting help. It was because of her that Merlin knew how rewarding it was to spend an entire day breaking his back as he worked the fields, and only got a smile when he was welcomed back home.

His mother would be so disappointed in him, if she'd been able to see him now. She wouldn't have been able to recognize him, not with how…utterly broken he looked. Merlin had always seen softer, he wasn't strong like his mother was. And he never would be. But Clarissa hadn't asked him about his mother, the woman's place in the household usually standing in second place when compared to the man. So Merlin would keep his mother to himself, Clarissa had not a single right to know his mother. But his father…

"…My father only did one thing to prepare me for the life like this." Other then donating enough sperm for him to be born, Merlin thought sullenly to himself, as he ducked his head. "And that was signing away any of the rights I had before I was conceived, convinced that I would end up being a good match for the royal family before he even knew one thing about me. Or the man I would grow into." And then Merlin smiled at Clarissa, but there was absolutely no life in it. There was no life inside of Merlin at all. His smile seemed to be stale, his eyes completely dead. As if his soul had been sucked away, leaving nothing behind other then the carcass Merlin had once called a body.

And just as Merlin expected, Clarissa thought he had done nothing but make a joke. The woman scoffed at him loudly, narrowing her eyes in disgust. That would have probably been the stupidest thing Merlin did in his long list of stupid things. Uther would have gotten his head on a silver platter one way or another, if he'd known Merlin had done spilled their secret. It was the first time Merlin had ever told somebody who didn't already known, the first time he whispered the words out loud to an outside source, and Merlin didn't care one wit about what the consequences would've been in Clarissa believed him. Even though this might have sent Arthur over the edge if he himself knew, Merlin would probably end up having Arthur trying to beat the holy shit out of him after this news tipped him on over the edge they were on.. The prince had already made himself very clear on what he thought about their business getting out. But maybe Merlin wanted to be beaten. It would be cathartic. A release for the consort as his failures were beaten out of him. And it only made sense for Arthur to be the one that did it.

"That wit of yours really is the only thing that you've got going for you, isn't it? It must have kept Arthur on his toes for a bit there. But, marriages cannot last for long when one half of the couple does nothing other then making poor jokes." Clarissa said, her accented voice making the false pity stand out. If Merlin had a will to do anything other then kneel over right where he was standing, Merlin would have felt the fire in his belly being lit. But Merlin felt nothing. Only the dark emptiness that kept him company on the cold nights. "But please, do continue making your jokes. I'm sure the king will tire of them long before Arthur will. And once I've made my proposal known to him, I'm sure even the king will see I am a far more suited match for his son. It will be quite, as you say…funny, to see the guards ejecting you from the castle in front of the entire kingdom."

Clarissa clearly thought the idea of being booted out of the castle would be Merlin's nightmare. How would she knew that this would have been his literal dream, as long as he didn't have to live in some villa and still legally attached to Arthur in matrimony. Clarissa was definitely the ideal package for nobility…being both a beauty and 'trained' to do consort things. But Merlin doubted Clarissa would have been able to do all the important things: dragging Arthur away from daggers trying to kill him. Saving him before he's assaulted by poisonous snakes. Finding out what really caused the sickness…all things somebody normal would of been proud of themselves for doing. But Merlin found that he was anything but proud of saving a man who kept hurting him…besides, Arthur hadn't exactly been won over by his 'wit', as Clarissa called it. He hadn't even been amused by them since the day they met.

"Can you make sure that they throw me out softly. I would like to be able to leave without anything that would slow me down." Merlin said dryly, which would be another reason people would see Clarissa as a far better option then him. Merlin was too dry, sarcastic, for these uppity types to understand. Even as empty as he was, Merlin could play the game…fake it till he makes it, or whatever they say. If Merlin was able to pretend he wasn't a mess, then maybe it would come true before he offed himself. "If I'm not going to end up in that villa your talking about, then it's gonna be a long walk home. I wouldn't want to take too long with leaving the kingdom just because you were being too impatient for me to walk down the stairs myself."

Clarissa glowered agitated at the consort in front of her, seeing how he obviously didn't know how to talk to a lady. Most people would have been groveling at her feet right this minute, but not Merlin. He must be really confident that Clarissa had no leg to stand on when it came to breaking up his marriage. And that meant either he and Arthur were in love, and Merlin thought nothing could break them apart…but there was two things wrong with that. For one, the men did not act as if they could stand each other, and there was no way Arthur would have let her get as far as she had the last time she managed to corner him in his quarters if they were serious. And two, it wouldn't matter how serious they were. Clarissa knew how to get a man's attention. Married men were even easier then single guys, because they were so desperate to have the thrill their own wives would deny them.

Or…Merlin really had offered the king up something good to get his heir's hand in marriage in return, as some of the ladies Clarissa had tea time with would gossip about. The only problem with that is…nobody could figure out what Merlin could offer. And Uther is not the type of man that would've allowed himself to be blackmailed into it by a runt, if Merlin actually did have something on him. But no matter. Merlin might be confident that his marriage would hold up, strong enough to wither through any storm. But she was just as confident that she was the hurricane that had the power to knock it down.

"Be cocky all that you want, it will not last forever you can be sure of that. I'm sure that Arthur may of found it…cute…in the beginning, but I certainly do not find it …amusing." Clarissa sniffed her nose up with disdain at the consort, striding past Merlin. "All the sarcasm you seem to think is an acceptable way to speak with a lady too, shows poor judgment on your part. When it is I who sits beside the prince, you can be sure that I will do whatever I must to make sure nothing that I'll do, will reflect badly on my husband to be."

Merlin leaned away, practically holding his breath as Clarissa's long hair brushed over his shoulder after she walked passed him. He couldn't even relax once she was in the clear, and a few steps away where she wouldn't accidentally touch him. Merlin found that he was absolutely that paranoid about anybody-even a woman like Clarissa-getting close enough to put one hand on him. But his own issues must have nothing on somebody who seemed to have spent their entire life doing nothing but preparing herself to be known as a proper wife. No goals, no ambitions, nothing that was their own. Other then landing a good match…he would have killed himself years ago if he had ended up with a childhood like that. A perspective that was so screwed, that Clarissa saw nothing wrong with the behavior she had shown him today…

"You know," Merlin nearly cursed himself out when he spoke up before Clarissa could leave. It would have been so easy to let her just walk away, thinking she'd won some kind of game on who would be the better consort. But Merlin had never done things the easier way. Even depressed as he was…he could never just leave things well alone. "You really shouldn't bother with Arthur. He only makes himself look bad, and I'd think a guy like that would only succeed making you look bad. It'd be easier to just…find some other guy. One who's not already married…"

Far be it for Merlin to try and stop Clarissa from what harebrained scheme was was cooking up, but Merlin may as well warn her from making the same mistakes he had. He hadn't had the choice when being forced to become a member of the Pendragon family. But on the other hand, Clarissa could walk away right now. It didn't have to be like this. Where the home-wrecker makes herself comfortable inside the place that the 'Cheater' had once called his safe space. Back when Arthur had been making him stupid promises after he had killed Valiant, promising he'd never be scared or live in fear inside this castle. But if Clarissa wanted to go through with it anyway…Merlin wasn't going to try and stop her. It would…hurt…too much, watching the 'promise breaker' reject Merlin for the hundredth and billionth time just to run off with her. Merlin was also liable to get the shit beat out of him if things worked out for Clarissa and Arthur publicly denounced him or something…but a beating would be worth if if that got him away from Arthur.

"And there it is." Clarissa stopped dead in her tracks, and turned back to Merlin with a particularly amused grin on her face. She didn't look surprised that Merlin had stopped her. She looked as if she had expected for it to happen, and Merlin had the vague sensation that he had just gotten played somehow. "You try to put on brave face because you know I can take away your husband with a snap of my fingers. But then you try to stop me, because you know…I could take away your husband in a snap of my fingers."

Merlin jolted back in surprise, when Clarissa decided to enunciate her point by snapping her fingers right in front of his face. He nearly tripped over his feet as he stepped back, but Clarissa didn't seem to notice as she lowered her hand down onto her hip. Looking like the smug bitch she had been behaving since the day Merlin had met her….Merlin regretted his choice to make her see reason. Every decision Arthur made since they had married had reflected badly on him, even if Merlin had been the only one to see what was really there. Everybody else too awestruck by their abusive prince to figure out what went on behind the closed doors they found themselves behind.

"In fact, I think you've inspired me to make my first move tonight." Clarissa announced, looking as if she was taking Merlin's words as personal challenge. The consort could only stare at her, wondering what had gotten lost in translation…that, he decided, would be the last time he tried to stop somebody from making a dumb decision. If Clarissa wanted to try something in front of the king himself, during this important rich party they were having…who was Merlin to stop her from doing it. "Nothing too big, of course. I wouldn't want to be the one that ruins what is happening this night. But I can be subtle, and get Arthur's attention in other ways…the celebrations I believe will begin at some point tonight." Clarissa had been half talking to herself, before she seemed to remember that Merlin was still standing in front of her. Though, she showed no concerns for spilling her plans to the husband of the man she was trying to get with. "I'll take my leave now. I wish to make myself beautiful for the prince….I must begin now."

Merlin's jaw dropped open a little…had Clarissa said she was going to leave now, to get prepared for that party thing…that wasn't happening until tonight? This was…how long does it take for a girl to get ready for a party? Even when Merlin had been getting dressed for his own wedding, he'd taken no more then just an hour to dress. It would have been half that time if the royal tailor and her two helpers hadn't spent forever fixing and re-fixing folds of cloth that had looked to be perfectly fine to him…wait a minute. Just wait one damn minute…

Had Clarissa just said she was going to the party…of course Clarissa was going to the party. She was the perfect candidate to be invited to a party where the royals and other nobles would be thriving. But Merlin hadn't even been invited, hadn't even been told that it was happening. Merlin could feel the lump that was in his throat earlier, reforming, and dropping straight down into his stomach like a stone. Merlin may have been Unwanted, but Arthur couldn't even bother to tell him…the last thing Merlin wanted to do was go to some rich party. But it hurt to know he had been so utterly…forgotten.

"Maybe you should do something as well, if you have the nerve to show up." Clarissa suddenly announced, unaware of the inner turmoil she was so easily able to wreck onto Merlin. The woman went back to twirling a finger through her hair, smiling at Merlin as if they were sharing some kind of secret. "It will take a bit of time to make myself worthy enough to look like I was born to be a queen. But I don't believe it will take you nearly as long to get…that…cleaned up. Before all the mess stains the castle floors."

Merlin was ashamed that it took him far too long just to realize what Clarissa was talking about. But all he had to do was follow where her eyes had gone, and Merlin looked down at himself. To where he had this healthy coating of blood dripping down along the tips of his fingers. At some point in the last few minutes…Merlin had stopped digging his nails into his wrist. He hadn't even noticed the sensation of blood droplets-slick and hot and thick-had started working it's own way down his fingers. Drip…drip…drip…Merlin's coat covered most of the mess on his wrist, hiding a good bit of the damage. But the jacket couldn't cover all of the blood droplets that stained the stone floor beside him.

Merlin's head whipped back up to look at Clarissa, as a pale sheen overtook his skin color, his heart making a stuttering sound in his chest. The Lady of the Court didn't say another word about it. She only allowed for her smile to grow wider…smug. As if Merlin bleeding out on the floor was something to find funny. And the lady turned away from him, striding further down the hall until she was walking around the corner, leaving Merlin's sight. Which did absolutely nothing to stop all of the anxiety that suddenly coursed throughout the consort's body, adrenaline pumping through his legs fast.

Merlin took one half step after her, before he forced himself to stop moving. What the hell was he going to do? Chase her down and beg her not to tell what she had seen…that wasn't going to work. Maybe he could tie her up in a closet, and hope that she stays in there long enough to forget what she was in there for. Fuck no, Clarissa was a prissy noble who thought the world owed her something for simply being born. Just like Arthur. But she wasn't stupid. She'd get out, and she'd tell every what what had happened, and…

"Fuck." Merlin breathed out, the word coming out of him like one would say a prayer. He brought his hand up to grip roughly at his hair, but all he could feel was the thick strands between his fingers. And the feeling of something wet brushing against his temple. Sticky, it was…Merlin jerked his hand away from his hair and looked at the smear of blood coating his wrist. Merlin grabbed his jacket sleeve with the other hand before jerking it up so that he could get a better look at the wrist wound. It wasn't anything aggressive, it looked as if it had bled more then what the wound itself had suggested. But he was pretty sure that same blood was now costing along his hairline… "FUCK!"

Merlin didn't care to find out if Clarissa was still close enough to hear the echo of his voice shooting down the hall. He didn't care if there was anybody else that was going to stumble upon him and see him freaking out. He didn't care about one thing. The feel of blood on the side of his head making something inside feel as if it had broken further. Cracking and splintering to near impossible levels, something that Merlin feared would never be put back together. Would never heal the way it should, leaving him floating and lost and all on his own. Always on his own.

Merlin needed to…he needed to do something…all of his magic was stirring up inside of him looking for an outlet. Any kind of outlet, something that wouldn't be strong enough to take down the entire castle with it. With the way he was feeling-chest heaving so hard, it made his chest feel tight. Too tight. Not enough air in his lungs to keep him steady-he probably could have taken down the entire castle. But no, he needed too…he needed to get it under control. He needed to stop and control himself…Merlin hadn't felt an outburst of magic building up inside of him since he was ten…he had knocked down an entire wall of their hut because he had been terrified of the thunder storm that shook their house. His mother had woken up far earlier then the entire village did, after the storm had stopped, so she could cut down the tree that had been growing on the backside of their house. To make it look as if a tree had fallen during the storm and took out half the house…

Merlin blinked, and then he was throwing himself into the closest wall, slamming his fists somewhere above his head against the harsh stone. And he screamed out his agony, the loud and raw and guttural sound of pure pain ripping out of his throat so loud that it hurt him. Echoing down the halls, and Merlin could barely hear the sounds of shattering glass and fabric being ripped right off the walls over the pounding inside his head, trying to beat up his own brain. The sound died in his throat, and Merlin was left breathing rapidly as he looked down at the floor, his forehead pressed to the cold stone wall so hard, he would be surprised if the indents from the stone didn't permanently grove themselves into his skin. The tears that brimmed his eyes seemed to shimmer as the gold in them started to fade.

There was no chance that Merlin could count on the Lady keeping her mouth shut about what she'd just seen. If she had been serious about her claims to try and get Arthur to wed her next, then Merlin would be fucked. Merlin had literally just given Clarissa the one thing she could tell Arthur that would make him try to take drastic actions. Arthur wouldn't want a husband who had taken a fancy to hurting himself…and far be it that Merlin wanted to stay married. But Merlin was already a freak. Magically, and royalty. Now, he would be the freak with suicidal tendencies…everybody was going to know that Merlin spent his days wondering if he would feel any better if he took one of those fancy daggers Arthur had and slid them across his wrists to watch the blood slide down his arm.

Merlin…Merlin was in agonizing pain, the cuts along his wrist being nothing but a dull ache when he had compared it to the rest of him. Everything started to become too much for him, every sensation felt as if it had been hit with a sledgehammer. Every one of his nerve endings electrified, just waiting for the single sensation that would knock him flat on his arse. He…Merlin wanted to feel like he was a person again. He wanted his only concerns in life to be rather or not he would be caught using magic today. He wanted…the consort wanted to know what it felt like to be alive.

And he wanted to know what the hell had happened to him in the last three months that had reduced him to…this.

It would be a few more minutes before Merlin could get himself together enough to push himself off the wall. And when he did, he would look around, to see the damage he had inflicted. There had been vases being used as decorations further down the hall, and it looked as if somebody had thrown them as hard as they could against the wall. Glass shades scattered everything…there was a huge fancy tapestry pinned to the wall further down. But now, it was ripped from the wall, half of it still hanging on while the other half laid sprawled out across the floor. It was a mess, and looked as if somebody had just ran through the hall trying to destroy anything and everything that they could get their hands on.

Merlin wouldn't be able to fix the damage his magic had caused by lashing out. He needed to leave long before somebody came across him standing here in the mess, maybe he could even play dumb if news of this started to spread. As long as nobody knew their consort had just gone on a rampage…Merlin fixed up the collar of his jacket as if to hide as much face as he could, leaving the hall and hopefully his anguish…far behind him. And if he was lucky, Merlin wouldn't feel the need to try and destroy a much more public hallway.

X

Merlin didn't know where he was, but he didn't think he cared too much about it. He had walked himself to a different hallway, somewhere further away from the destruction he had caused. He had wanted to return to Gaius', and lock himself away in his room. If he had his magic lashing out like it just had, then Merlin was more dangerous than he had thought he was. Whose to say Merlin wouldn't lash out again, and who would say rather or not his magic would react to try its best to protect him. Even if that meant attacking the poor soul that came across him first. Even if the poor soul ended up being one of the few individuals that hadn't done anything to him.

Merlin had only made it as far as this spot before he sat himself down against the wall. He curled his legs up until they were pressed snuggly against his chest, his arms wrapped around his legs to keep him there. He had already wiped up the blood on his head, but he didn't have a mirror and could only hope that the mess was gone before anybody could see him. That would have been harder to explain then Merlin would care too try. But his wrist had stopped bleeding, the blood drying in patches that pulled and tugged harsh at his delicate skin. The wound from his nails weren't as bad as the blood had made it out to be, but Merlin would still need a washcloth to scrub away all of the remains left behind.

But it seemed to be too much. He couldn't even be bothered to take off his neckerchief, spit on the end, and scrub away the proof that he hurt himself. Merlin couldn't be bothered to scrub away all the evidence that said he 'liked it' when he had hurt himself. It had been euphoria almost, blissful and peaceful, allowing his mind to go blank for once in his life. The pain had been release for him, something he had caused all by himself. Something he could control. It hadn't been something Merlin was forced to endure, scrambling to hold onto himself by just his fingertips as he was left counting the hours until the next day. Hoping that everything would look better once a new sun rose up in the sky…it never had.

And then Clarissa had shown up, she had made the anxiety inside of him stir relentlessly. He had used his own nails to cut deeper into his skin then he'd been meaning to go. It had felt great at the time, a way to control what was happening as Clarissa made all the decisions on what she was going to do for herself. It was disgusting, and now that Clarissa had gone, and now that she had seen…Merlin felt disgusted only by himself. The self-loathing was stronger then it been before, because Merlin had finally gone off the deep end. He'd finally done something far worse then just laying around in bed all day.

What kind of sick freak was he? Merlin had never saw himself as one of those people who would live only to hurt themselves. His magic, ready to lash out and try taking out an entire kingdom with it, had never given him a reason to go so far. Even if he was a monster…it had never left Merlin wanting to hurt himself. Being consort though…was something new entirely. Merlin could literally feel the pressure as people he had not ever met before, tried their damn hardest to strip his identity away inch by inch. Merlin thought maybe, he could understand why people wanted to go so far as to hurt themselves when life went sideways.

"Consort Merlin?"

Merlin jolted his head up, the arms wrapped around his legs going tighter as he forced himself into the smallest ball possible. It was an automatic defensive response, Merlin had barely even noticed he'd done it at first, in an attempt to protect himself from what blow he might get. Harsh words, or cruel hands. But it was all for naught. Because Merlin was pretty sure the maid in front of him, holding a small tray of dirty dishes perched on her hip, wasn't about to start one thing with him. Maybe another maid would have tried to start some shit, but not this one…

"Mary."

The maid's name came out of him, and Merlin could only watch as the maid eyes scanned him over him, a wrinkle of concern forming between her brows. Great job, Merlin. He must have really looked like shit given how she was looking at him. Merlin darted his eyes to the far side of the wall, so he wouldn't have to look at her. And dragged his legs impossibly tighter towards him, hoping maybe she would go away and wouldn't be another person who saw the mess he was. It was going to be much better for him if Mary would read the room-or the hall-and turn herself around so that Merlin could resume thinking about how absolutely ruined his life was.

"Consort Merlin, are you alright? Did somebody hurt you? Has something happened? Should I go and get help? You look…" Mary fired off the questions at this rapid pace, her voice dying off as she tried to search for the right word to use. Merlin only held himself all that much tighter, trying to keep himself together, as he held his breath. He knew very well how he looked, and he didn't need Mary to be the one to point it out to him. At least his magic was no longer roaring deep inside of him, trying to find a way to get out. He knew he would have never been able to forgive himself had he hurt Mary. "…Upset."

Merlin almost laughed at that, simply because of how stupid it sounded. Upset? Merlin wished he was only upset. It would make things so much easier for him if he was. He wouldn't have his own magic trying to act out against him. He wouldn't have Clarissa doing god knows what as she runs around the castle, and stuck wondering when she would start running her mouth about him free bleeding in the hall to Arthur. And he wouldn't be on this dirty floor, wondering if his job as consort was over with since nobody had bothered to tell him about the celebrations tonight. One would've thought a consort would be forced to show up to the stupid thing…so no, Merlin wasn't 'upset.' He was a thousand words-devastated, depressed, angry…and more then a bit lonely-to name a few. But 'upset' was not strong enough of a word for what he was.

Mary looked away from him, glancing back down the hall the way she had came. And Merlin fully expected to have her walk away from him, maybe she would go and get Gaius for him. Though it was a moot point, as Merlin would take that time to make himself scarce to the entire castle, to not see the disappointed work its way onto his uncle's face. The physician wouldn't be happy to see his little attempt to get Merlin back out in the world, had fallen off to the wayside. Merlin was probably worse off now, then he had been before he had been thrown out.

But Mary didn't leave him along, or give him the time he would need to escape. Instead, she sat down right beside him, her skirts fanning out around her and the dirty dishes she had clanking together as she put the tray down beside her. Merlin glanced over to her, but didn't say a word as he turned back to look down at the floor. He could feel Clarissa gazing into the side of his head, her stare doing nothing that encouraged the consort to acknowledge her anymore then Merlin already had. He didn't want to talk, feeling as if he'd used whatever energy he had on the pointless fight-if one could call it that-that he had had with Clarissa.

After a few minutes where they just sat together with the silence-maybe Mary could see for herself that he was in no mood to entertain anybody else today-she made a move. Merlin eyed her, looking out the corner of his eye when he saw her reaching into the pockets of her peasant dress. She pulled out this simple cloth of white cotton. A handkerchief. But the peasant kind that got carried around to help mop up the sweat on one's forehead when the heat started to become too much. Not the silky satin kind that nobles carried on them only to make a fashion statement, because the nobles didn't do much that would actually give them a reason to sweat. The most active he ever saw any of the nobles were when the knights were taking over the training grounds.

Mary brought the handkerchief up to her lips before licking on the edge of the cloth, making sure that the white cloth was wet with her spit. Merlin stared at her a bit more focused after that, silent but lifting one of his eyebrows up to quietly question her about what she was doing. Mary didn't answer him, and instead, brought the cloth up to the side of Merlin's head. The Consort nearly fell over when he jolted back, looking at Mary with a wild look in his eyes, giving the other peasant no chance at pressing the cloth against his own skin. For a second, he almost forgot Mary was a friend of his, and not someone else looking to try and hurt him.

Mary wasn't somebody like Gwen, who had fed him his broth back when he was still eating somewhat full meals. She wasn't Gaius, who had insisted on giving him sponge baths the last few days, this humiliating experience when Merlin realized he'd even stopped cleaning himself properly, but one action that even he could admit was sorely needed. Mary also wasn't Morgana, who sat by his bedside and would read one of her books to him, her soft voice lulling him into his restless slumber. The book had been nothing Merlin would have picked out for himself, but now he knew far more about women's fashions thane he had ever needed to know.

"Shhh, I just want to clean you up some. You have a bit of…right here." Mary brought a finger up towards her own head, indicating the spot she'd been trying to wipe. It only took two seconds for Merlin to realize what she was meant, and he squeezed his eyes shut in disgust with himself. This obviously meant that the consort still had the blood against his temple. It was no wonder Mary was looking at him as if she thought he might jump out of a window at any moment. "I will be quick, if you allow me to clean it off."

Mary's voice was soft and careful. It made Merlin feel guilty, and his chest ached. She was talking to him as if he was a wild animal, feral, something that needed to be tamed and treated with care in case he tried to run. Like one would approach an animal that had just been caught in a trap, and was scared the one trying to help them get out would only end up hurting them …

Merlin sighed, and nodded his head, giving him the permission she needed to clean him up, making sure to tug down the sleeve of his jacket so she couldn't see his mauled wrist. Heaven forbid he literally have his suicidal tendencies written across his face.