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!

104. Chapter 104

Merlin's entire body was tense, looking like a wound up spring that was about to pop. His knees tucked up under his chin, keeping himself as small as he could possibly make himself. He dug his nails into his knees though that was more to keep him grounded, instead of trying to hurt himself as he had been doing before. He held his breath when Mary returned the wet cloth up to his temple, scrubbing at the mess Merlin made of himself. He held himself still so that he wouldn't be shaking like a newborn pup as Mary used her nail, all wrapped up in the cloth, to carefully scrape away the bits of dry blood that was still clinging to his temple.

He kept expecting for her to reach out to start trying to smack him across the face, again and again until it left his features a muted array of purple bruises. That was stupid, as Merlin doubted Mary could even hurt a fly, even in the right circumstances. Like the fly had been particularly annoying, and she the only choice she'd had was taking it out. The people around here had really done a number on him, making Merlin see enemies where he had once seen a friend. But it was Arthur that had damaged him, and made Merlin start shrinking away from the touches of others. A horrible feat when one considered Merlin had once been that boy that thrived on being touched.

Merlin had seen touch as another way of being able to connect with people. A hug from his mother, even a clap on the shoulder from Will had been enough to brighten up his day. With Merlin being unable to hold a connection with 'normal people', being unable to try and show even a fraction of who he really was under the person everybody saw him as, Merlin had sought for whatever connection he could. Hell, maybe it was why Merlin had tried so hard to make things work out with Arthur in the beginning. He had only been trying to forge another connection in an unfamiliar land. But he hadn't. And now, the touch of skin against his own made him want to cringe back, made him not want to let in anybody else. Because they would no doubt try to screw him up more then he already was.

"There you go, that wasn't too hard now, was it?" the maid said in a soothing tone, and Merlin could feel it when his breath escaped him, in this whoosh of hot air when Mary pulled her hand away. He hadn't even realized he'd been holding his breath for so long, and he could feel the way his stilled lungs jump started in his chest. Though, he didn't must care that he could have just held his breath until his lungs grew so tight they felt like they were about to burst, before passing out right here on the cold stones. He cared that Mary didn't have him any invasive questions, trying to pick or prod at him for answers, as to why he behaved so jumpy. She behaved as if it was completely normal to for Merlin to nearly jump out of his skin when she had only been trying to help him, and gently folded over her handkerchief and sliding it back into the pockets of her skirts. "You are are clean now."

If only being clean was as easy as wiping the cloth on your skin and being done with it. Merlin was sure that Mary was probably happy that he was clean because it meant she had probably saw that there was not any marks on his head to indicate where the blood Merlin had worn for all to see, had come from. This would've meant Mary hadn't just found him after being jumped and assaulted-which would've explained why he was being so jumpy in the first place. And the lack of any markings meant he wasn't suffering permanent brain damage, that would have forced Mary to run to seek immediate medical assistance from Gaius. But being clean felt like a relative term to Merlin. Would it even be possible for Merlin to be clean? When Merlin felt so dirty about himself. He could probably get himself scrubbed down from head to toe, it wouldn't stop the hollowness in his chest.

Mary didn't start up a conversation. She simply sat there, and waited for Merlin to make the first move. It must have been the longest minute to have passed him by, before Merlin finally spoke up with a simple, "What are you doing here?" Merlin hadn't expected to run into anybody else this second time around. As he was sure he was hidden in a more deserted spot then the hallway where he had been found by both Clarissa, and two maids. "And don't you have work to do? I'm sure there's better things for you to do then just sitting here with me…."

There were probably a thousand things Merlin knew that Mary could be doing right now, that would be far better than just sitting here and keeping him all the company that he didn't need. Hell, getting ran over by a carriage would have probably left Mary better off then just sitting here with him. Gettin drawn into his orbit, and feeling the depression coming off him in waves. The last thing Merlin wanted was to make somebody feel the same way tha he did. And he was sure the longer Mary sat with him, the more she was going to end up like him. Merlin wasn't exactly known as a happy person nowadays…and for all he knew, all the never ending cycle of depression he was stuck in could rub right off onto Mary. He didn't want that for her. For anybody. Nobody should be made to feel as he did…

"Oh, I'm sure that Madame Clara will assign me my next task the second I walk back to the kitchens, but I have a little time to spare. They'll barely notice that I'm gone until they need the extra hand." Mary softly explained to Merlin, and she made no effort to move up. Even if the kitchen's matron would probably tan her hide should she find Mary sitting out here instead of doing her work. "Besides," Mary grinned sneakily. It would have been a wicked smile, but Mary was far too soft to pull off something like that. And she jutted her thumb over her shoulder. "It's not like I'll have far to go. The kitchen is right over there."

Merlin blinked, confused as hell before he followed along the line of Mary's thumb and looked around her to see for himself. And Merlin's eye started to twitch when he saw what she had said was true. Merlin was able to see the kitchen doors from where he sat right around the corner, situated in a hallway that was just off the main hallway. Mother of god…Merlin must've gotten turned around at some point, too busy trying not to freak out over the fact that Clarissa was most likely spilling one of his darker secrets straight to the prince that Merlin wanted to know the least.

"Most everybody is inside right now, and I will must prefer sitting out here for a minute if you allow me. It is quite chaotic in there, everybody is working double time to get the feast for tonight prepared. I was one of the lucky ones that was allowed out so I could get some of the normal chores done." Mary explained, as she placed a hand onto the pile of dishes she'd done stacked at her side. Dishes taken from some of their nobles who had opted to eat dinner in their rooms as they prepared themselves for the party that night. "It will only get me put straight back to work once I get inside. Not that I'm not opposed to work! I am quite grateful to have my job here in the castle…"

Merlin saw Mary's cheeks starting to turn pink, and if Merlin was another noble, she was probably liable to get fire if she wasn't showing gratitude. Merlin could always be happy that Mary was comfortable enough with him to somewhat bitch about her job, but Merlin wasn't. He was upset that he had the power to make her leave if he wanted too, even if he would not ever assert that power to begin with. Merlin pushed back so he was settled further against the stone wall, and leaned his head back so that he could feel the harsh pressure against the back of his neck.

Merlin took a shaking exhale of breath, and rested his arms on his knees as he closed his eyes. What Merlin really wanted to do was slap himself upside his own head, telling himself how incredibly stupid he'd been for not realizing he was in such close proximity to the most public place in the castle. The kitchens. Merlin should have known he would screw up with trying to escape somewhere nobody would would be able to find him. Merlin might as well start ringing the dinner bell, and letting all those vultures who wanted him to pick something out for a party he wasn't invited too, know exactly where he was at.

It had only been pure luck that Mary had been the one to find him, instead of somebody else who had nothing better to do with their lives other then trying to gawk at the freak. Not even Merlin knowing that logically, he couldn't know every single side tunnel the castle had, or where they would lead too, would be enough to convince him that he wasn't stupid for choosing the pathway that he did to get here. Merlin, by this point, knew where everything was, but there were still dozens of little side tunnels here and there that Merlin had never been able to map out inside his mind.

"You know, it's been about three months since you've gotten here and I haven't really seen you around here lately." Mary was the first to finally speak up, trying to start up the next conversation. But Merlin could only focus on what she had just said…three months. Had it really been that long since he had gotten here from Ealdor? It didn't seem long enough to make him feel this way, but it also didn't seem short enough. He felt as if he had been in this kingdom for eons, just slowly wasting away until there was nothing left of him to be seen. "How have you been? Have you and the prince been enjoying the whole married life together?"

Merlin let out a barking laugh, startling Mary with just how sharp it had been. But Merlin was too far gone to care if he was freaking out the other girl. With the blond haired prince being brought up in every little conversation that he had, how could he not laugh at it? It was like nobody wanted him to forget just how fucked up his life was. It was like people wanted him-and they probably did-to give into his craving and go find the biggest knife that he could get ahold of. He'd do anything to not have to think about Arthur for only once in his bloody life.

But nobody, not even Mary it seemed, wanted to talk to the poor consort they were stuck with. Any other conversations outside of Gwen, Morgana, and Gaius seemed to follow along with either two threads. One, they wanted to talk about Arthur and how far better off he would be if Merlin had never shown up. Or it was two: and they wanted to explain to Merlin with excruciating detail everything he had done wrong or how he had wronged 'them' in the last three months of living here. Everybody acted as if Arthur was the victim. And that victim couldn't even be bothered to show up when Merlin-even Mary herself had noticed-disappeared from the public eye. If Merlin had given into temptation at any point during this last week on its own, Arthur wouldn't have even know he had gone on to the next world until Gaius saw it fit to inform the prince of his passing.

Mary frowned heavily when the laughter died down to nothing, "So…it's true then?" She concluded, and tucked her legs underneath her body solemnly. She had been hoping to cheer Merlin up from…whatever this was, by talking about something he could have enjoyed. Her sister had gotten married a few years ago, and nothing had made her light up like talking about her new husband. She hadn't thought things through enough… "Some of the other girls have been talking, saying stuff like how there's something that's off about your marriage. I pretty much ignored them, I thought they were only jealous because the prince hadn't chosen them…"

Merlin laughed again, sharp and with a tinge of awful bitterness as he shook his head. This…this…he didn't know what this was. Everybody was targeting him, as if any of them had a chance with Arthur to begin with at all. And those that didn't wish they could jump the line between peasant and consort, all thought Arthur needed somebody to 'defend his honor' or 'remind Merlin that he wasn't needed'. Was being married to Arthur, or connected to him in some other way, really what people around here strived to do? Did nobody have any other aspirations or goals, or just minded their own business and lived their own lives? Exactly how many people were willing to give up their own lives and dignity and sense of self just to become…a prop in the game Arthur and Uther continued to play with.

"Is it really that bad?" Mary asked, curling her legs all that much tighter underneath her. But it would most definitely explain why Merlin's acting like this, she'd never seen him like this before. And she was worried about him, he had always been so nice to her. It was the reason she had defended him so ferociously that time in the laundry room, when all of the other girl's had been trying to gang up on him when he hadn't even been there to defend himself. If Merlin wanted to talk to her about it, Mary would be here to listen to it. And unlike some of the other girls who would have used Merlin's mood to find out the real facts, instead of just the rumors spreading, she wouldn't go around telling other people whatever Merlin told her. "Do you think…is it terminal?"

Divorces weren't exactly a common practice when it came to nobility. Mary could only think of one she'd even heard about, and that had been years ago. Most nobility were on the same page with each other, and wanted to put up a strong front for their subordinates in the area. They couldn't broadcast their strength if they were having a public discord, if the house itself was in distress then how would the people who work their be able to put their trust in them? The nobles in a crisis that could call for a divorce, usually kept the discord behind closed doors, not allowing any of the personal affairs between them be discussed for the public's consumption. The prince himself was a little different, held to higher standers and therefore, had always been up for discussion.

But what wasn't uncommon was how nobles would choose to handle their relationship. One of them, and it was usually the woman of the couple, would have a sudden urgency to check on the other estates, to get their other homes in order, and would need to leave for an undetermined amount of time. It would just be an excuse as to why they were no longer living with the other, but the servants usually knew. The woman usually always had a reason come up as for why she couldn't return home. Reasons that never seemed to end…and Mary didn't want Merlin to be one of those people that had to leave. It obviously wasn't going to be the prince, but…Merlin was the nicest noble she'd ever met. She hadn't been lying when she told Julia that Merlin was one of them. She would be sad if he was forced to leave…

"It's been terminal for a long fucking time." said the consort, giving her a smile that had a bit too much of his teeth in it to be genuine. But Merlin sighed and he brought a hand up to rub tiredly down her face, eyes aching from exhaustion. What Merlin really wanted to do was break down right here and now, confess it all to Mary. He wanted to tell her about the contract and how he had ended up here, how his marriage toward the prince had really gone down. How there was no epic love story, that ended up with Merlin tricking the prince into giving him his ring and kingdom. But the consort held himself back, maybe because he knew unlike Clarissa, Mary would actually believe him if he started sprouting off about contracts and arranged marriages. "It's…I don't even know what I have been doing here…"

It would have been so easy though, Merlin thought to himself as he pressed the back of his head further to the wall, and stared straight ahead. If Merlin did truly want to die-which he did-all he had to do was share his truth with Mary. Once the king found out, at least there would be someone else out there who'd know what hat happened to him, instead of whatever shit story the king would tell to explain it. But…maybe the sorcerer only wanted to see his mother again. Maybe he was still holding on, because what if there was a chance that he could see his mother again? Probably not a very strong chance, but…Merlin wanted to tell her that he was sorry. Apologize for not being strong enough to endure him. Apologize for putting her right through the stress of raising a sorcerer child, and not being able to thank her properly for all the sacrifices she'd had to make to raise him for as long as she did.

"Is it because…" Mary scrambled to think of reasons for her consort and her prince to be having problems. She wasn't sure how much help she would be able to give him, she was only a simple maid after all. What would she know about helping a consort out with his marriage problems? But she also couldn't just leave him out here to suffer. He needed her help, and what little help she could give him, she would. "Because of you being consort? I mean, I can understand that this is probably stressful. Is the prince really not helping you like he should be…?"

It was probably highly disrespectful for Mary to just assume that Arthur was the one not pulling around his weight in the relationship. Most people showed their loyalty to Arthur by declaring Merlin had to be the one with the problem. But Merlin couldn't help but marvel at Mary for being able to hit the nail on the head. That was pretty much the exact reason for why everything was going to shit. People seemed to think Merlin had nothing to do but play around since he'd been given a title. Or expected for Merlin to just be able to know what he was supposed to do. It was a learning curve, this whole consort thing, and all of that pressure was enough to crush him underneath it. Unforgiving, and much stronger than Merlin was…

Maybe things wouldn't have been so bad if he'd been able to find a bit of support from his husband. Maybe if Arthur had taken two damn minutes to prepare him for this life, Merlin would have been better equipped to deal with it. But he hadn't…being consort was only the tip of the iceberg when it became to his problems and issues. But it was Arthur himself who he knew to be the root of everything. It was so easy to blame the prince for everything. For never standing up for him the few times one of his subjects had said something about Merlin directly in front of him. For ruining touch for him…and making Merlin swallow the last of all his dignity, and hide away in the corner like some kind of coward…

Merlin had never been the type to cut and run, not a single day in his life. His mother would worry since it was like Merlin invited trouble whenever he was only trying to live his life. Amend now look at him…Merlin couldn't even recognize himself if he tried. Sure, he'd obviously see himself if he picked up a mirror. He had to see his messy hair, and his high cheekbones, he'd see his pale skin and blue eyes. But despite all those similarities, Merlin would only see the former shadow of what he used to be. Now only a puppet, a prop to be used and discarded at will. And apparently he was not even a good one, considering he was deemed so unimportant, he wasn't even fit to be warned about all of the strangers that would soon be circling along the castle.

"That…it must be horrible." Mary continued to talk as her lips dipped into a frown. She looked ahead as she played with the folds of her skirts, squeezing her fists around the fabric again and again. Mary had seen the expression on his face, and it looked as if she'd been able to work out Merlin's answer for herself, without him actually having to say anything. Mary shook her head, before turning back to Merlin, "Didn't you two have any kind of talk about expectations or what was going to happen before you two married? Back when you were still only courting? Or was the romance just too fast, and you didn't know what you were getting into until it was too late?"

Maybe, Merlin realized…Mary wasn't the best person for him to have this conversation with? Either he was going to end up accidentally saying something that'd only incriminate him and give her a glimmer of what the true situation was. Or he would have to omit so much back, that he may as well be doing nothing but lying and lying and lying. What if Mary decided to ask him exactly how their courtship had gone? Merlin had never had a courtship before, the only reference he'd be able to use was his own imagination, and nothing he could think of actually seemed like something that Arthur would actively do. Everything in his mind was too sweet or romantic…and Merlin didn't want to lie about it anyway. It would only make Arthur look good, instead of the roach he really was.

Merlin whipped his head around to look at her, before changing the topic as quickly as he could, "There's a party going on tonight, right? Everybody been talking about it. Some king…I guess, is coming to visit, that's right?" Merlin asked her, before turning back around and ignoring the startled expression on her face with the abrupt conversation change, in favor of staring at the wall again, squeezing and unsqueezing the pants fabric around his knees, needing something he could do with his hands. "Maybe you should just tell me a bit moreabout that. I don't…I suppose I don't really know what's going on with it…"

Merlin couldn't find it in himself to care about it to begin with, if Arthur wanted to run off and go have a celebration, then who was Merlin to stop him. If that prince he was stuck with, wanted to go out and have fun for the night while Merlin was slowly falling into a void he could never escape from, then…let him. But it would hopefully distract Mary from talking anymore about his courtship. Besides, Merlin thought with his eyes fluttering closed, the sound of Mary's voice as it turned into white noise in the back of his head as she blabbered on, would be a much better alternative to listen too. Anything other then the whispering voice in his head that always urged him to do something he knew was bad…bad for him and his safety.

"…You don't know about the celebrations…" started up Mary, tilting her head to the side confused. She'd obviously thought Merlin would have known all about it by the point, even more of the finer details then the ones that were working the party. But then the other boy peeked out his eye, barely opening his eyelid to look at her, showing desolation in his eye. That was the reason Mary cleared her throat, and she started to quickly explain some points that Merlin should've been aware of for weeks now. "It's quite a bit more then just a party. It's actually great news! It's a great step forward in our kingdom and our relations with the kingdom Mercia!"

Merlin closed his eye back, and leaned back against the wall again, content to listen to her ramble since he didn't have to do any of the talking. He started to think about all the things he knew about the kingdom of Mercia. He knew it was…Ealdor was on one side of Camelot, so that meant Mercia was on the other side of the city. And it was ran by a king named Bayard…it was the name Clarissa had mentioned to him as she had been sprouting off her great plans on how she'd dethrone him in a heartbeat. And that…would have to be all that he knew.

Mercia was one of the five great kingdoms that ruled over the country, and if it's king was anything like the king that ran Camelot, then Merlin was grateful he'd never have to meet the guy. It seemed as if the king and Arthur had probably decided to keep Merlin far away from the party going on, maybe so Merlin was not to blame if whatever 'greatness' that would be happening between the two kingdoms, fell through. That would be nice, Merlin thought as he listened to the lull of Mary's voice. To not be blamed…surely he could not be seen as at fault if he wasn't even near it when it happened.

"King Bayard and King Uther will be signing a treaty today! The final step in bridging the friction that has been brimming between our kingdoms for quite the last few years!" Mary exclaimed, nearly brimming in over excitement as she shared the news. Merlin was a bit more sardonic about it all. A kingdom that was at odds with Camelot, now…why didn't that surprise Merlin? He was more surprised that anybody would be willing to make any deal with Uther. One would've thought another king-like Bayard-would be able to recognize Uther as somebody who jumped when the opportunity was shoved in his face. Like how he'd went back on his deal with Merlin last month, since he thought it would finally be his chance to be rid of Merlin. "It's supposed to be a trade agreement, from what I've heard. Uther will open up the trails, which will allow Bayard's men to travel through without the fear of being attacked, making their trips across the kingdom much shorter for traveling. And Bayard will give us more grain than we could ever hope to have to eat!"

That…Merlin supposed solemnly, not even a hint of sharing the same excitement as Mary on his face…would explain why Mary was so happy. Merlin knew how precious something as simple as having grain resources would be. He would have killed to be able to have an extra bag of rice back home. Not even for himself. But just one more extra bag to be portioned out among himself and the other villagers. They had precious little back home, and that one bag could've been the difference between some of the people he had know all his life, living or dying.

"Everyone is quite excited for it to be seen through! Bayard and Uther are marking down the final bits of the agreement! It's what tonight is going to be about now!" Mary practically squirmed in her spot against the wall, her small body barely able to contain having more grain filling up their kitchens. The servants had never exactly starved, they were workers inside one of the better kingdoms around, but any bit of extra food could go along way, even for them. "There will be a whole ceremonial ceremony type thing…where King Bayard and King Uther are going to show how United the treaty is by signing some kind of contract …the servants were practically fighting each other to see who gets to work the party so that we could get to witness it too!"

But Merlin had tuned out during Mary's ramblings, as one word stuck out to him the most. Contract…it was enough to make Merlin feel as if he had hives forming on his skin. It was amazing how one word, had been enough to make Merlin feel as if his heart and lungs had frozen in his chest. Contract…it was a contract that had started Merlin onto this path of destruction. A contract that had forced Merlin's hand more times then he could count, had forced him to endure more than he ever should have experienced…Merlin could only wonder if Bayard knew what he was getting into when signing a contract that attached him in anyway to the Pendragon family. Knowing Uther…it was very possible that the king had somehow worded it to be sure that this other king ended up with the short end of the stick. King or not, this Bayard would end up as no different then the pawn a peasant like him was.

"And-" Mary continued to talk, looking as if she'd not taken a single moment to take a breather during all of this, when the sharp and irritating sound of someone clearing their throat above them interrupted her. The serving girl's mouth snapped closed in an instant as she saw the sight before her. And Merlin gave a lazy peek out of one eye, somehow not at all surprised to see the woman before them. She had hands perched on her overly wide hips, and was stomping her foot in agitation. Her eyes were narrowed in sharply onto the two of them, and Merlin could have sworn that she'd be breathing fire if she could.

Matron Clara.

The last time Merlin had seen the great Matron of the kitchens, had to have been two months ago. It had to have been just before Valiant had tried to corner him in the armory, and force an unwanted kiss onto him in the dark room, where nobody would've been able to hear him screaming if things had taken a turn for the worse. Madame Clara hadn't exactly made the best impression on him, and Merlin knew that he hadn't either. The matron had seemed to hate him the very second she had seen him, and that opinion seemed to not have changed in the past two months.

Matron Clara's eyes landed on him, and Merlin could see the recognition lit them up, as well as the disgust that shined in them. Merlin wanted to roll his eyes, as he knew he had done literally nothing to the lady that ruled the kitchens with an iron fist. But he didn't have the energy to do even that, and so he watched as the woman tightened her fingers into her dress along her overly large hips, bringing attention to the pudge that fell over her meaty fingers.

"So, this is where you have decided to disappear off to instead of working your shift? I had to stop what I was doing to make sure you haven't been jumped in the halls or something." Madame Clara was snapping down at Mary, who immediately rose to her feet and started bowing, whispering low apologies for being late underneath her breath. It would have been a nice sentiment, knowing that Madame Clara only came to make sure of the safety of one of her girls. But it was hard for Merlin to feel that, when he could barely feel a thing at all. And when Madame Clara turned Brady little eyes onto him, ignoring the young maid directly at her side. "And this is where I have found you, just sitting on your bottom and conversing with a thief! A thief who had the nerve to return to the scene of his first major crime!"

This wasn't the first time Merlin had the word 'thief' spit out at him, it was a common enough insult from other knights as they pushed him down. Merlin…not a thief for somehow 'stealing the prince's heart and convincing him to marry him' but a thief for having a sound enough strategy that got him the same results that nobody else did. Access to the royal family and all the perks that came along with it…even if Merlin had not touched one cent of it. He'd never stolen one thing in his entire life actually, unless one wanted to count the palm size carving of a horse one of their neighbors had taken the time to make for his little daughter. Merlin had only been six at the time, and his mother had marched him back and forced him to apologize to both the man and his daughter for trying to take it.

His mother had taken him back home and gave him a little speech about how wrong it was to steal. He had been so upset in the way only a child could be, since he didn't have a father who could carve him figures to play with. His mother had been sad, but bundled him into his arms before explaining not everybody in the world had the same thing. Like the little girl had her horse, Merlin had his magic, even if he couldn't share it with anybody. It was his, and nobody could take it away from him. Those words had stuck with him, even if he'd had conflicting thoughts about his magic over the years. But Merlin had learned to never steal, and as he had grown up, he had came to learn how to appreciate the little that he had. And how to help those that were even less fortunate then he was. He had been happy, with the little life his mother had built for them…

But Madame Clara wasn't calling him a thief because he had 'stolen Arthur' or something stupid like that. It actually took Merlin a moment to remember why, and he subtly moved his left hand so that it would sit out of Madame Clara's sight. The last time he'd seen the matron, she'd done knocked herself onto the floor as she had attempted to wrangle Merlin in herself. She had been rolling around on the floor like a turtle, and unable to get up as she screamed for the guards that never came. Madame Clara had thought he had gone out and stolen his own wedding ring, since a peasant like him could have never afforded a ring that was so fancy. The metalwork alone would have been far out of his price range, and with the red dragon caved on its front…Merlin would have had to sale his soul just to look at it, yet along to wear it.

"I'm going to assume that there is only one reason you are still breathing fresh air, and not locked away inside of the dungeons for the next decade. And the reason you aren't walking around with one hand after the other was cut off…" Clara sneered down at him as she eyed the hands attached to him. Even if she was not able to see one of them, could clearly see that he had something attached to his wrist. It was a very old practice, but whenever somebody had been caught stealing, well…the punishment needed to be fit to the crime. And a thief couldn't steal anymore, if he didn't have a hand to grab things. Not even children who'd only needed food had been spared from that cruelty …it didn't happen much nowadays, but Merlin knew he'd heard of some places far down south that would still practice it openly. "You must have returned that ring you stole without being caught in the process. Is that it?"

Merlin stopped and stared at the woman for a minute as he took that in. Did she…did Madame Clara really think he had stolen the ring still? The ring that Merlin could have sworn was currently trying to burn a hole through his finger until it had been severed off. That wasn't right…Merlin had thought everybody inside of the kingdom had known who he was by now. It felt as if everybody he saw could recognize his features the very second he walked into a room. Maybe it was just his imagination, but Merlin could swear the tension in a room increased whenever he showed up, everyone turning to look at him with grim expressions. As if he had somehow disappointed all of them by existing. It seemed though, that somehow…Madame Clara didn't recognize him.

That was a strange thought, knowing that there was someone in this entire kingdom who didn't know the dark of his hair and the paleness of his skin and the blue of his eyes better then he did. But what was far more stranger, was the strong feeling of…excitement, or was it awe, that there really was somebody in the world that hated him because of who he was. Rather then who they thought he should be, and how they'd found him lacking. Madame Clara hated him because she thought he was a thief, which had probably been a good reason to dislike somebody's presence. Not knowing if they were going to steal from them next or not…

Maybe Merlin was setting the bar really low. Just how many people in the world could say they were happy because somebody hated them for a different reason then why everybody else did? But after the last three months that he'd had, Merlin was practically starving for any little bit that he could get. Even in the matron of the kitchens looked at him as if he was scum that had settled on the bottom of her shoes, and she was probably one person Merlin wouldn't try to ever make friends with…it was nice to know that he wasn't dead on the inside. Even if it was only for a blip of a single second before his excitement was smothered down by his own self-loathing. One hint of excitement was not going to fix him, or stop him from feeling how he always did nowadays…

"Madame Clara, I really don't think you had a chance to be properly introduced the last time that you met him!" Mary practically jumped in, obviously wanting to stop Madame Clara before she said anything that could hurt her. Mary knew that Merlin said Arthur and him were having problems, but surely the matron of the kitchens would not be looked at favorably if she spoke out of turn and said something worse then she already had. "I know I tried to introduce you the last time, but I don't think…don't think you really heard it all that clearly…" Mary tried to handle this situation a bit more delicately, the words twisting awkwardly in her mouth, but Clara's beady eyes on her forced her to squeak, and quickly continued on. "May I have the pleasure of introducing you to Consort Merlin…"

And there it was, the dreaded title that Merlin came to loathe more then he loathed himself. He knew that Mary was only saying it now, because she thought it would save him some grief if Madame Clara tried to jump him again. Like she had when she had wanted to wrestle the wedding ring off of his finger, and be the one to return it herself. Maybe because she was thinking she'd get some kind of reward for returning it. Or maybe because she just really detested thieves of any kind hanging around her kitchen girls. He had no way of knowing. But he did know that the matron of the kitchens had a grudge against him, and a title wasn't going to change it.

"What have I told you, little girl!" Madame Clara was whipping around to yell in Mary's face, making Merlin cringe back as the volume caused his ears to start up ringing. Something else he would have never done if he had came across this scene as the Before Arthur Ruined Him, version of himself. Madame Clara didn't notice and Mary barely even flinched, the way Clara spoke was usually in screams, needing to be heard from around the entire room as the hustle and bustle of the kitchens became too loud. "You do not believe every little story that some random boy tells you! Do you think the consort would be sitting on a dirty floor if that was him? I don't care what any of you and the other girls talk about when your supposed to be hard at work! Consort Merlin would have far more class to him that…that…boy, does. He has to have class if he is married to the prince!"

Class…Merlin thought dully, as the ringing inside his ears started to die die. How did somebody classify if somebody else had class or not…he could not have even begun to explain what having class meant. But Merlin could take a gander…it was probably a person like 'Clarissa'. Somebody who looked far cleaner then even the freshly dropped snow. Who knew when and how to play the part of nobility, and could recognize who they could show their hand too. The people like Merlin so far below their radar, that they had no fear when sharing what their plans were, knowing nothing could be done to stop them…or maybe that was just Merlin's own bitterness about everything, starting to show itself again.

"Now, that this idiotic girl has hopefully understood all of the things that I have told her." Clara said with a harsh tone, sending a withering glare towards Mary when the girl made an urgent sound of protest. Mary obediently snapped her jaw shut, knowing she would end up on dish duty or mop duty if she protested too much against the matron, which was probably two of the least desirable jobs that anybody in the kitchens could be forced to do. Lifting all of those heavy pots and pans teaming with boiling water to wash away all of the grime that was rotting away on the inside. The matron now turned to Merlin, settling her glare onto the boy still sitting against the wall at her feet. "I will want you to obviously, show me your hands."

Merlin stiffened, head whipping up to look at her with surprise. But Madame Clara's expression showed him that she was clearly not joking, and was now tapping her foot. Irritated because he was taking too long for her liking. Mary had her eyes darting back and forth between the two of them anxiously-like one would be when watching a duel-and had even brought up her knuckles, the tip of them touching her top lip. Merlin curled his left hand into a tighter fist, shoving it until he may as well have been sitting on his hand. Matron Clara was clearly not just going to take his word if he simply said he returned the piece of jewelry, and was not going to believe him when he said who he was…

"I may have been born at night, boy. But let me be the first to assure you that it wasn't last night." Clara huffed, the disdain leaking out of her voice. If Merlin had any bit of leftover excitement at the thought that Clara at least hated him for something other than him failing the misconceptions people had expected from him…they seemed to drain out of him in an instant. "I need to make sure that you are not trying to pull one over on me. I might be old, but I've got eyes that are much better than a hawk's. And I can see when there is somebody trying to get away with something."

Mary made a squeaky yelp sound, like a scared little puppy, when she saw Madame Clara's eyes dart their way down to Merlin's fist. Anybody looking could've seen that Merlin was trying to hide it out of view. And the consort clenched his fist tighter, feeling the burn of the ring as it pressed indents into his skin. Merlin couldn't say that he was being…protective?…of that ring? It was a piece of filth that reminded Merlin how much of a prisoner he really was. Being able to walk along the castle didn't make him any better then the people locked away in the dreaded cells below. And he honestly didn't know why he was still wearing the thing in the first place, it wasn't as if Arthur ever wore his anymore. He had made that very clear back when Merlin had first realized he wasn't wearing it…

Merlin would have handed it over to her…if he didn't know what would happen next. Madame Clara would probably hand it over to one of the guards so that the ring could be returned to it's rightful owner. And how long would it be before one of the knights recognized the dragon emblem carved into the front of it. Would they return it to Merlin himself? The ring was a bit on the smaller side, Merlin's hands were more slim when compared to his husband's, so it most likely wouldn't be too hard to deduce which of them it would belong too. Or would they bring it to Arthur, so that he could handle it himself, as the ring had been given to Merlin and it originally belonged to Arthur.

And then what little substance Merlin still clung onto, would be over. Arthur would be back in his life, as he stormed into Gaius' chambers looking for him. Being his usual screaming and raging self, flinging around a hand clutching the ring. Would probably claim Merlin had somehow embarrassed him for losing his ring, or threaten to have the ring seared onto his finger since he couldn't keep it on. Never mind the only reason he had lost it in the first place was because some crazy woman didn't believe he was really who he was. He wouldn't believe it himself, considering how he really looked, but…Merlin was Merlin. Arthur'd already gone and tackled him the last time Merlin had tried to take it off in front of him, and forced it back on…he would do anything to avoid Arthur touching him to force the ring back on again.

Even if he had to swallow his pride and wear it…

"Well boy, aren't you going to do what I told you to do. Show me your damn hand!" Clarissa barked, she was clearly used to her kitchen girls jumping straight to attention when she yelled for them. And she took a threatening step forward, as if she was going to try to jump him again, like she had the last time she tried to take the ring from him. And Merlin cringed, leaning to the wall away from her. Merlin was far from scared of her, portly Madame Clara had nothing on the knights who liked to target him more than any other. But the consort found himself cringing back nonetheless, his body's fight or flight reflexes kicking into overdrive. It could have been a little girl trying to jump him in that moment, Merlin would have still reacted the same, as he felt the hard adrenaline pump it's own way sharply through his body…

Trying to determine rather or not this was something he needed to run from. Three months of having non-stop torment coming at him from all sides, had likely left Merlin scarred in some ways that not even he had realized yet. Where even an old lady could be looked at like some kind of threat to his safety, and needed to be treated as such. Because she was a threat…if she got Arthur involved in his life again, then it felt as if Matron Clara might be the biggest threat of all. Not one of the other knights who would shove him or spit at him as they passed had gotten Arthur to return to his life. But none of them had tried to take his ring, to which would eventually be turned back over to Arthur himself…

A low growl emitted through the air just as Merlin was starting to move to his hunches, and everyone froze where they were standing. The tension in the hall felt so real, and so raw…it wasn't a good feeling for a boy like him, who already felt torn open and vulnerable in the worse of ways, even whenever he tried to block it all out, dull the pain that simply existing had caused him to have. And then came her, a newcomer walking down the hall. She was whistling tune nifty little tune to herself, seemingly unaware that she'd gone ahead and interrupted the fight that was about to break out among them.

The woman continued whistling her tune, one of her arms wrapped securely on top of the slid that she'd strapped across her chest. And one could just barely see the little fist that was poking out of it…a mother, it seemed. And not a peasant one either, it seemed as her dress was far too fine to be peasant. But the biggest indicator was what else she had with her, not a single peasant would have the nerve to walk around the castle with 'that' giant thing attached to her. That thing was connected to the woman by a leash loosely wrapped around her wrist, and Merlin was surprised the large dog hadn't taken off already, behaving wild and free as it dragged the woman and her poor baby along for the ride.

The dog was as tall as the woman's waistline, and he clearly had no probably with marching her alone for the ride. The familiar dog snapped it's powerful jaws at Merlin, and the consort nearly fell back on his arse in surprise as it pulled its leash taut to get as close to him as he could. Merlin wasn't surprised by that…the dog still hated him even though Merlin couldn't have begun to tell when the last time he had seen it would have been. Merlin still thought the dog could've been a bit more grateful towards him, as Merlin happened to be the only reason it was walking around. And not stuck being a statue on the front steps of the castle…

The giant red bow tied around his neck to fashion as a collar was pretty new though. And Merlin could see why the dog was growling at everybody if he'd been forced to wear such a silly thing. But then again, the only time Merlin had been forced to dress and strut around like a peacock, was his own wedding. And not a single person wanted to see the tragedy that would be Merlin as he tried to figure out how to walk around in such heavy garments. But unfortunately for Merlin, he knew the dog wasn't growing for simply wearing a monstrosity.

The dog had made it a habit-the few times Merlin had came across him-to bark and grow every time he saw him. Trying to warn Merlin away from him, they both knew that Merlin could easily turn it back to the stone statue it once was if he wanted too. But he did not, and the dog seemed to get worse every time. As if it was expecting for today to be the day that Merlin tried to end it's existence. As if Merlin didn't have any other thing on his mind other then changing the dog back into what it once was…

The woman made a simple clinking sound with her tongue, and the dog gave Merlin one more snarl and snap of his jaws before he returned to her side. She was Knight Gregory's wife, and probably the only one that the dog ever listened too. Merlin would've found it hard to believe if he didn't already know…the dog seemed to have developed a soft spot towards that woman and her baby. Merlin had even seen it snap its jaws at Gregory himself, when it had thought the man was getting too close to his own wife and his baby.

"Consort Merlin." The woman said simply, wearing an exhausted smile on her face-who wouldn't have been exhausted when carting a new born baby everywhere they went-before walking off without another word to him. Merlin watched her go, with an almost bemused expression on his face. Darting his eyes back toward the dog who let out another snarl, it's own attempt at putting Merlin in his place….even the damn dog tried to get Merlin to settle beneath its feet. What had his life become…Merlin saw a hint of fangs from the dog -like beast before it continued walking down the hall with its mistress.

Maybe…Merlin thought as he saw the group wonder off around the corner…having a set of fangs wouldn't be such a bad thing. Merlin wished that he had fangs right about now…maybe if he bit Arthur hard enough, like the dog tried to do to him, Arthur would back up some more. Not even a month of being distant from the other was enough space for Merlin. Arthur would always be nothing more than an abusive piece of shit no matter how much he tried to deny it, and he would not be able to relax until he was an entire kingdom of space away from Arthur. Just knowing the prince was most likely in the castle somewhere at this moment, and knowing he could probably wonder across Merlin himself as well, was enough to have his stomach try to twist itself into knots…

"…Madame Clara…are you okay? Speak to me? Do I have to go fetch the physician? Madame Clara!" Mary was saying urgently, and when Merlin turned around to see for himself, he could see why. Madame Clara's face looked ashen, her eyes so wide that they could have fallen right out of her head. Mary was poking at her, apparently too cautious of Clara's easily ignited tempted to grab at her shoulders and start shaking her violently. Though, any attempt to snap her out of this probably would have been welcomed, instead of all the attention it would garner if Gaius had to come out here. "You look as if you are having a stroke? Do not be having a stroke, please! Consort Merlin, what should we do!"

Mary whipped around to look frantically at Merlin as the despair and panic marred her face, forcing Merlin onto his feet. But Merlin didn't know what to do, and he didn't know what had caused this sudden reaction from Madame Clara. A stroke? That was what Mary's first guess had been, but what did Merlin know about treating a stroke. For one thing, Merlin found himself entirely unprepared to treat anything, especially as it was something as serious as a stroke. Just because Merlin read medical books in his spare time, before he had taken to staring at his wall for hours at a time, didn't mean he knew anything. Those were only the basic, books! Like how to recognize an infection, the correct way to wrap a bandage…and even if that had been what Madame Clara was experiencing, he was still unqualified to even touch her. Let along to treat her…

The only thing Merlin could have done was run off to Gaius, and hope that he could get the physician back to this hall before Madame Clara ended up submitted to whatever illness had befallen her suddenly. But for Merlin to do that, he would need to leave Mary in her panicking state. But if he didn't…what was it could an untreated stroke do to a person? Being paralyzed, or unable to talk, or move, or…do anything other then sit there and watch the days pass them by? Merlin was sure there was other stuff that he didn't even know, but he was sure a stroke caused long term effects…

Before Merlin had to come to any kind of decision, and really, what other choice could he make other then running for Gaius? Madame Clara may have just been all but attacking him again, but it wasn't like he could leave her to perish like this…she came back to herself, taking in a large and wheezing breath. Merlin sagged, and Mary let out an excited squeak. Thank god, Merlin thought. She apparently wasn't having a stroke after all. Considering his lack of food and how little he'd been moving this past week alone, he was not even sure he would have been able to make the run back to Gaius. Not without passing out long before he reached the physician's chambers.

"I have things that need attending to, I do not have all the time in the world to sit around here and giggle off like teenage girls do." Madame Clara huffed, yanking her arm away from where Mary had clenched her fist in the older woman's sleeve. Madame Clara acted as if she hadn't just been on the verge of needing to be treated for a medical emergency. Madame Clara was turning to sneer at Mary, "But on that note, I suppose I could be lenient this time, and allow you a few extra minutes to speak with…Consort Merlin. But if you are not back within the hour, then I will be coming back for you. And I will not be happy if I have to stop what I am doing. Again!"

Mary and Merlin shared baffled looks as the woman turned on her heel, peasant dress swishing around her ankles as she stormed back to the kitchens. That was…unexpected. Madame Clara hadn't even tried to mention his ring again. Hadn't tried to snatch it out of his hand, yank it off of him, didn't even try to find out rather or not he was actually wearing it. It looked as if Madame Clara had forgotten the ring altogether, and instead, took this moment to return back to her work. As if whatever grudge she had against Merlin, would pale in comparison to making sure her girls inside of the kitchens were doing what they were supposed to be doing.

Mary opened her mouth to say something to Merlin, but she was interrupted before she could get more then a single syllable pass her lips. The kitchen door that Madame Clara had just disappeared through had swung back open, and the matron of the kitchen was sticking her head out the door. "And do find out what the consort would rather have as a main dish for the celebrations tonight. Fish or pork?" And then the lady of the kitchens was disappearing, the door slamming shut behind her. Depending on Mary to be the one to bring back what the consort's order was.

Oh….ooooh, Merlin realized why Clara was acting so differently then she had been before. He was more stupider than he had thought, for not having realized it earlier then now. Madame Clara knew that he was the consort now, or she wouldn't have told Mary to…find out his order? Because Gregory's wife, the lady with the dog and the baby, had called him as such as she passed them by. It was one thing for Clara to just assume one of her girls was naive enough to believe he was who he was at his word. But it seemed to be an entirely different thing when somebody else knew who Merlin was, and referred to him as such. Merlin didn't much like it, knowing that somebody's attitude towards him could drop faster than a hat could when they found out his name. But at least Madame Clara hadn't taken a turn for the worse, and started to spit more vile insults at him then she had been.

It was strange…knowing that a simple word was able to hurt him far more then some of the other things he had endured. Being shoved into walls, being tripped down a flight of stairs, his belongings shoved out of his hands and deliberately destroyed…being spat at on his shoes…they left scars of course. They left the consort weary, and cautious, and was the reason that he had been trying to keep to himself. But the marks had healed, leaving them as nothing more then what Merlin would have called a particularly vicious group of memories. Arthur's touch alone made his stomach heave, caused him to want to keep people at an arms length distance, and making him want to shrink until there was no chance of somebody touching him. But once again, those were harsher memories that left no scars on him. Even if his body often reacted without his input, shrinking away when somebody got to him too close, or flinching whenever somebody would try to touch him, even if it was friendly.

But words somehow left scars on him that was much deeper, and couldn't be erased so easily. The Freak. The demon. The monster. The one that would burn in damnation for eternity…those were what people said about those who used magic. Even if there had been no way for them to know Merlin was one of the fallen, who had been born only to be kindling for the fires of hell to continue burning, the words had already long been imprinted in Merlin's skull. Reminding him that his very existence, his every breath, would only be on borrowed time. Until the demons that ruled hell came to collect him…or until he was discovered by people who tried claiming they were any better than actual demons…

The Thief. The uneducated. The failure. The one that couldn't hold together a council meeting without the whole thing falling apart. The one that couldn't keep his own husband interested after they had married. It was him…the Unwanted Consort of Camelot…all that were words directed towards him personally. Things people whispered about him, or would say directly to his face, needing him to know that there were more people then Merlin knew what to do with, that simply hated him. Arthur could bully them, and shove them around as much as he did Merlin. Could have them thrown in the stocks for simply speaking out of turn, and they all acted as if the sun still shone straight out of his arse. Merlin walked into town, and he somehow ended up with a new rumor following him by the time he left…it was a double standard. But one that Merlin couldn't pretend wasn't happening. Leaving him with an aching hollow, and no longer having the Will to try and make things better for himself. There wasn't any point when he only ended up with a new hated name for his troubles…

"Don't worry too much about Madame Clara, she is just in a mood and doesn't get out of the kitchens at all. Like…ever. We think she lives there, actually." the kitchen servant spoke up, smiling when Merlin turned to look at her, having followed his gaze to where the consort had been staring blandly in the spot that the kitchen matron had disappeared through. Merlin had not even realized he was still staring after her, lost in his own dreadful thoughts as he had been. Spiraling further and further down the rabbit hole, so to speak. "But hey, since she knows who you are now, I'm sure you won't have any problems from her. Just don't try to take over her kitchen, and she won't start trying to come after you with a potato peeler or something."

Merlin could only stare at her blankly, a dim look in his eyes before he recognized what she had said. He slowly nodded his head, but didn't say a word as the insane image of Matron Clara chasing him along the entire kingdom with a potato peeler, appeared inside his mind. It would definitely give people another thing to talk about when concerning him…but at least Mary hadn't been able to read his mind. Wasn't able to see the dark turn his thoughts had overtaken. Mary didn't know how bad things were for him, and Merlin would want to keep it that way. At least the real bad stuff, if only so he didn't have Mary trying to hover over him because she felt guilty or something. Like Gaius did, and Gwen, and Morgana…

Sure, Merlin called for Gaius and Gwen and Morgana, and he could appreciate what they were trying to do for him. Reading to him, sponge bathing him when he was too miserable to lift his own arms, trying to feed him when he couldn't stomach it…but it was hard to imagine they actually cared for him. They most likely only felt sorry for him, because the three of them felt like the only half-decent people in this place. None of them were the type to not help somebody in front of them who needed it…but Merlin didn't think the three months he'd been here, was long enough for them to actually care about what happened to him. Or maybe that was just his depression again, trying to ruin him all over again.

"I, uh…I should probably get back." Mary spoke up as she jutted her thumb over her shoulder back towards where the kitchen doors stood just around the corner when Merlin didn't say anything. "I know that Matron Clara said an hour at least, but she's probably having an aneurysm in there, knowing that one of her girls is talking rather then working. But-" Mary's eyes went soft and sweet looking, gentle and welcoming in this way that Merlin was unaccustomed too. "Since you know where I work, I'm always here if you wanna stop by. And hey! If you want me to tell you even more to do with King Bayard, I'll be able to give you any news us serving girls know about him!"

Merlin tilted his head, watching the girl with a curious frown on his face. He knew that Ealdor didn't get any news about the other kingdoms, they were too down south for them to get any traction. But Merlin hadn't thought that Mary-as a serving girl-would've gotten much more news then what she had already shared with him. That the King of Mercia was coming to the city, so that he could sale his soul to Camelot's king for a few opened trails and shorter travel time. They would get the grain, but…after his experience, Merlin wouldn't have trusted Uther enough to sign a single thing he would put in front of him.

"You know more about Bayard then what you've told me already?" Merlin asked, his voice sounding more despondent then it had been before Clara had gone and interrupted them. Mary nodded her head, eager anticipation etched across her features, since the girl wanted to help Merlin in anyway that the consort was wanting her too. If Merlin wanted to know more about King Bayard, then by golly, Mary would find out what he wanted. Merlin tilted his head to the side, and the consort lifted an eyebrow. "Really, is that so…" Merlin said, voice coming out a bit more hesitantly this time as he mulled that over.

Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea if Merlin did try to learn more about this…King Bayard person. Merlin may not have been invited to the signing thing they'd planned for tonight, but that didn't mean Merlin was never going to run into the king. Merlin didn't exactly plan on leaving his room anymore after the nightmare this whole experience had been, but he also couldn't have told how long the king was staying. If Merlin did get kicked out by Gaius again, and considering how Merlin's luck usually went, there was a good chance that he'd run into the king himself.

Merlin didn't want to find himself caught unaware if it turned out this King Bayard had ill intentions. It would be just like Valiant, nobody had thought he'd turn out evil simply because he was a knight, at least until he had tried to kill Arthur. Forget about Merlin's assault from him, it had been all about Arthur's near murder. Merlin was sure the same principle would follow with a king that it had a knight. And while Merlin truly did doubt this King would try to assault him like the other knight had, it wouldn't be a bad idea to know another of his soon-to-be enemies. A bit dramatic, perhaps, as the king hadn't done anything to him as of yet. But Merlin wasn't still alive because he ignored his own curiosity and gut feelings. If this Bayard guy turned out to be anything like Uther, then he would need to be avoided at all cost.

Mary nodded her head up and down with eagerness displayed across her face, her hands tucked neatly in front of her and her blond pigtails bouncing, "Yes! I'll admit I do not know much about the king personally, as this is the first time he's visited Camelot directly in at least twenty years or so. But if there's anything on your mind that you'd like to know, I bet I could find it out for you real quickly. You need only ask." She said, voice filled out with more confidence that Merlin had heard from her yet. She truly believed she could find out whatever it was that Merlin wanted to know.

Merlin wondered why that was. He would've thought it would be far harder to discover anything about any man that wore the title of king. And it probably would be hard, because wasn't a king all about keeping the secrets of their affairs and the like pretty much what the job was entirely about. Uther sure acted as if he would like nothing more than to cut Merlin's tongue right out of his head if he actually spilt the truth of their arrangement. More like Merlin's imprisonment, but…semantics. Mary though, had made it sound as if it would have been no different then snapping her fingers.

"..What makes you think you'd be able to find out one thing about him? I mean, he's a king, and you're a…" Merlin trailed off, not wanting to be indelicate about this, and accidentally insulting her by calling her out as a servant. The consort knew all about how it was demeaning to be referred to by your title, rather then by who you were. And when Merlin saw Mary frown contemplating, he could feel the dark stain of red as it worked its way up the back of his neck, since it was pretty obvious that she had caught onto where all of his thoughts had gone. "Er…never mind."

There were thousands of questions Merlin could've asked for Mary to find out for him. Thing like…had Bayard ever kept somebody a prisoner but the king that wasn't locked in a cell. How was his relationship with his own wife, and did he treat her like she was meant only to live in a subservient role to himself…and hell, while he was at it, Merlin should probably ask if Bayard was even married at all. He'd gotten ahead of himself, if he didn't even know that much. But he supposed he could ask other non-related to his own issues, type questions. He couldn't think of any at the moment, but Merlin was sure they would come to him when he was trying to get some rest for tonight. While everybody else was off, enjoying not having the screw up ruin their latest celebration.

"No, no, no, Merlin. It's fine, I know you didn't mean a thing about it, I mean, I am a servant." Mary said with an urgency to her tone. The consort hadn't came off as condescending or rude, treating her as if the role she'd been born into was less then. But Merlin could not stop himself from feeling bad about it. Even if he hadn't meant anything by it. It had only been a poor choice in wording. And Mary knew this, and tilted her head sideways as she looked at Merlin thoughtfully, eyebrows coming together as she mused something over for half a second. "…I want to let you in on a little secret!"

Merlin stiffened, taking in how empty the hallway was around them, and Mary's steady eyes on him. Having clearly decided he could be trusted enough to listen to her secret. But Merlin could feel something inside of his stomach tightening, a secret…Merlin had never been good at secrets. His magic…the contract…how was it that Merlin, had been the one entrusted-well, forced was another word for it-with keeping all these secrets straight. Straight, and hidden away from the world's little bit light. Since Merlin felt as if he could see only darkness, wherever he looked. But he could only turn away the serving girl entrusting Merlin with yet another secret.

Not after Mary had cleaned the blood off of his face before anybody could see the wreak he was. And not after she had sat down with him, even when she still had much more work of her own to do. The least that Merlin could do was allow another secret to weigh on his chest. And so, Merlin nodded his head once, and was prepared to take whatever Mary told him straight to his grave. There would be no 'playing around with fire' and teasing words that were just on the edge of him saying it. Especially not if Mary's secret was just as big as his own were. Secrets had the power to get a person killed, if they were told to the wrong one. He wouldn't let Mary get killed because he and his dumb depression didn't care enough about himself to keep his own secrets hidden for much longer.

"This isn't exactly something the other servants want getting back to the nobles, but you're…you. And that is almost like a peasant and a noble all rolled into one in a way. So I'm sure that nobody would really mind if I told you." Mary rambled on, waving a hand back and forth, but Merlin had to beg to differ. Merlin knew the other servants would probably find a 'lot' of things to complain about if they knew that Mary was here, and divulging their secrets onto him for whatever reason. "And if you really think about it, it's not really that big of a secret. Most nobles would actually know about it if they took two seconds to think about it. But nobles don't really think much pass what they want. And the nobles only concern themselves with serving matters if they need something for themselves…"

Well, Merlin thought, looking visibly disturbed about it all, she wasn't wrong. Merlin could still remember how he had told Arthur about how Morris had been treating Gwen. And what had Arthur told him? He'd told him to not bother getting involved with matters between servants. Nobles really were this arrogant group, unable to see two inches in front of their own face half the time. It wouldn't surprise Merlin at all if no other noble knew about this 'secret', if it really was as easy to see as Mary made it out to be. Unless one of the servants were trying to stick a blade into their gut, it definitely would have gone unnoticed.

"There's a reason I said that I could tell you anything you wanted to know about Bayard, that I could find it out for you." Mary was glancing around the hallway to see rather or not anybody would've been coming out of the woodwork. But they were as alone as ever, and the air took more of a serious note when the serving girl turned back to Merlin. "Did you know that people are expecting for Bayard to be arriving with a bunch of servants. Fifty at least. Quite impressive when the king is visiting another country, and there are plenty of servants around here that Uther could have offer to him. But Bayard won't be using any because he's bringing such a large amount. And servants…rather they come from Mercia or Camelot, are actually quite the same. Servants like to talk about their masters…"

Merlin narrowed his eyes contemplating over this, as he rolled Mary's words around in his head. Servants were often considered a status symbol among those with noble blood, thinking the more servants settled in their employment made them higher then another noble who employed less. Bayard bringing that many servants to a gathering in front of the King…maybe it was for a reason. Maybe Bayard didn't trust the king he was making a deal with, and was trying to prove to Camelot that Mercia was just as well off rather or not this deal of theirs would be going through.

And…servants really did like to talk about what their masters were doings. And that didn't even extend to only servants. Peasants loved to talk and fantasize a lifestyle of their own, where they are the nobles that is in charge. Coming up with things that they would have done differently if they sat there drenched with gold. Him and Will used to do it all the time when the two of them had been kids. Imagining a far better life in the inner city, where they didn't have to spend the days digging and planting. But that had ended when Will's father decided he wanted to give his son a far better life then what he could offer, and joined basic training with the knights peasant division. Apparently King Cenred created the division only to use peasant people as a diversion in their battles. Willing to leave them as sacrifices, making sure they weren't trained good enough to defend themselves, their weapons not nearly as good as their noble counterparts…they had basically been slaughtered as the noble knights snuck in from behind.

"Maybe I should explain it like this." Mary said, with a soft tone as she licked gently at her soft lips. The girl gave another glance around the hall, just make sure none of her servant co-workers would stumble upon them and give her crap for divulging their secrets to a technical noble. She turned back to Merlin, before making sure she looked him dead in the eye. "We, us servants…we are the shadows inside of this castle. It is us that clean, and cook, and keep the standards up to how it is. But…we're also those that are the unseen and standing right behind those that are seen. If you ever want to know something about a noble, then the best bet you have is to ask a servant. We hear things, even if we don't talk about them openly. So, we could literally know everything there is to know…nobles are not afraid to talk in front of us. They don't see us as people, they don't see us listening…they don't know the kinds of information servants had gathered over the years…"

Mary made it sound like it was some kind of coup, as if the servants could take over the castle someday, if they just gathered enough knowledge. But it wasn't like that at all…nobles liked to say that knowledge is power, and they weren't wrong. Servants needed to know things about the people that visited or lived in the area. How else were they going to survive, if they didn't know which nobles needed to be avoided at all cost. Or which nobles needed the servant to only do the job and then disappear as fast as they could. Or which nobles didn't care if they lingered and took all the time they needed before they had to return to a more grueling job that was waiting for them…and the servant bit down hard on her lip.

She knew she had been the biggest advocator when it came to Merlin's role around here, defending him from all those girls in the laundry room who thought they knew him, but had never actually talked to him themselves. But she couldn't hide her nervousness, the little tingle of doubt that said she could be wrong after all. If Merlin told anybody about what she'd said today, even if it was a bit of an open secret, servants would probably be put on lockdown. Whipped in the public's view, separated and segregated as if they'd turned into cattle, and only given the bare minimum when it came to work. Leaving their pockets empty as they were given less money to compensate…

"That's…" a whoosh of breath escaped from Merlin's mouth in amazement. He had honestly never thought of it that way before, but she was absolutely right on the money. How many times had Merlin noticed how the nobles would look right past their servants. How they would not even give a simple thank you to them after they'd done something. It wasn't completely out of the realm of possibilities to know that nobles were getting so cocky, they would say things right in front of their servants and not think twice about the group of them spreading off to spread the word among the other servants. "…that's amazing…"

Merlin could definitely see the advantage of that…it was no wonder Mary had know what the 'deal' that was going on between Bayard and Uther were. Hell, in this moment, Merlin wished with every fiber of his being that he was a servant. One of the kitchen boys perhaps…it would be a way of finally getting himself his own money since he had blown his. And…Merlin would know things that were going on inside of the castle, things he didn't now. He could move around unseen, because nobody would want to know a thing about him. And the best part of being a servant…the sorcerer wouldn't have anything tying him to Arthur Bloody Pendragon. No marriage, no life together, no …anything. Because Merlin would have just been one in the crowd. Not the boy whose parents had signed a contract, and given his soul away before he'd even been conceived.

Merlin shook those thoughts out of his head, since he knew no amount of longing and wishing-no matter how much it ached inside of him-was going to make his circumstances change. They only succeeded with making him sadder, and Merlin had enough sadness in his life to last a lifetime…but there was something he knew he needed to do as well. "Mary," he called to the girl. Mary had ducked her head down, tugging on one of her pigtails. But Merlin waited until the serving girl lifted her head and met eyes with his own before telling her something that everybody needed to hear in their lifetime. "…I see you."

Mary looked startled by Merlin saying this, but Merlin felt as if somebody had too. He'd gone unseen many times in his life, hiding who he really was…but he had gotten a taste of what being seen was like during the last few months. And while Merlin wished that he was able to go back to a time where going down towards the marketplace didn't also equal the staring and the pointing being down to him by strangers, he learned being unseen could be just as damaging. There had to be some kind of balance, somewhere in the middle that didn't make one feel like crap. But if there was a balance between being both seen and unseen, Merlin had yet to find it. And somehow doubted that he ever would.

"I…that is…that's…" Mary started to sniffle, and there were droplets of tears starting to make her blue eyes shine, gleaming almost. Merlin stiffened, his jaw went tense as he panicked. He…Merlin hadn't meant to be the jerk that made Mary cried. He'd only wanted the other girl to know she wasn't going as unseen as she thought she was! Merlin saw her! And if one of them didn't fall into the trap that was depression, at least it would be him. He could deal with things…baddy, but he was still holding on. Even if it was by a tiny fraying piece of string that was two seconds from snapping itself. "That's the nicest thing that anybody has ever said to me!"

The serving girl let out this loud a wet sounding sob, before she buried her face in her hands where Mary proceeded to sob more heavily. Merlin whipped his head around, not entirely sure what he was going to do now. He should…probably comfort her, right? She might want a hug…the Before Merlin wouldn't have hesitated before taking her into his arms and rocking her. Anything to get a smile, rather then a sob. But the After Merlin, knew how horrible it was to feel the touch of another when you were already vulnerable or in a horrible position. Merlin didn't think that Mary had the same aversion to touch that he did, but still…should he touch her without asking first?

Merlin didn't want to overstep if Mary had any of the boundaries that he had. But he couldn't exactly leave her to cry it out in the middle of the hallway. He knew he was already a fucked up person but there was still a few bits and traces of the Before Merlin, lingering in underneath the aching hallow he'd become, that was not allowing him to leave. But…his options was either to touch her, and Merlin would never want to find out he was the abuser in Mary's eyes as Arthur was in his own. Or leave her to work it out for herself…

Fuck! Mary had just said 'it was the nicest thing that anybody had ever said to her!' So, why in the world did that mean breaking out into waterworks? Merlin had thought Arthur was the most confusing person he had ever met in his entire life. But maybe he had just found something that was even more confusing then the prince himself was…girls. But then again, at least girls could cry without being looked at like they were a freak. Merlin had cried plenty of times since he had came to Camelot, but he would not dare to do the same in front of one of his tormentors. They were able to bruise him, but…Merlin's tears would always be for himself. When his emotion grew to be far too much and he needed to let them out somehow…and preferably in a way that didn't leave whatever room he was in, magically charged with energy that could have blown it up.

"…Consort Merlin…?" And Merlin felt his shoulders as they sagged, no energy to even allow one muttered curse to fall from his lips when a new maid showed up around the corner. Merlin watched the new maid, her arms carefully folded around a small pile of cloth in her hands, glance from Merlin and straight back to Mary. The serving girl thankfully lifted her head when the newcomer arrived, and she started scrubbing the tear tracks that marred her face with her hands, all it did was cause her face to look smudged with ruddy cheek. "…Are you alright, is something going on right now? Mary…?"

Mary nodded her head, telling the maid that she was alright without actually using her words, too busy as she tried to calm herself down. That seemed to be all the newcomer needed, before she was turning a dark glare onto Merlin, accusations shining brightly in the depths of her eyes. Merlin's eye twitched violently as he could literally see the newcomer writing what was her own narrative in her mind. Merlin knew that it was by this time tomorrow, a new rumor would be joining the ranks of those that had come before. The people were going to hear all about how Merlin had made a serving girl cry her eyes out. And give it a few more hours, people were probably going to start spreading how he had hit her, or something else that would end up being as equally as outrageous.

Mary didn't seem to realize her friend was coming to her own conclusions, as she wiped off the last bits of her tears, leaving behind her grubby face. And Merlin didn't even bother trying to correct the newcomer on the situation. Merlin had made Mary cry, even though he hadn't done it the way her friend was thinking. But if there was anything Merlin had been learning from Arthur…there was no point in correcting people. Not when it did no good, not when he spent more time as he stressed himself out trying to say the truth. Going ignored until something happened, and there was no denying it…Mary herself could say what they'd been really doing, and people would probably think that it was nothing but empty words. Mary trying to do what she could to save face, or not invoke the temper from the royal family.

"Consort Merlin, Madame Clara informed me that you were out here. And I really need your input on exactly which one of these we should use." spoke the maid in a clipped tone, her voice and harsh expression would be the only indicator of how disgusted she was. But it was not like she could do anything, at least not to the consort's face at least. She couldn't exactly be seen yelling at their prince's consort, though Merlin would have welcomed it when compared to the falsehoods. "Would you rather we use the beige set? Or the more tanned ones?"

Merlin could have almost admired the restraint that it took, because he doubted he would have shown the same if he came across a scene like this. The scene almost too closely resembled the time he had walked in on Morris berating Gwen, as he was sure the other maid's mind had jumped to the worse of conclusions. But…Merlin was a little distracted when the maid was showing him the cloth she had folded in her hands. It was two different cloth napkins, but Merlin could only assume that they were two different napkins. Both of them looked exactly the same two him. Two napkins, a shade of light brown…

Tan or beige…they didn't even have a different type of pattern to differentiate between the two of them. It was surreal…Merlin thought…this was his life. Picking napkins that may as well have been twins, for all that Merlin could tell. He could almost see himself, a good twenty and thirty years from now, doing exactly that, again and again…it wasn't a pretty picture. The older Merlin-if he even lived that long-would only be more rundown than he already was. Choosing decorations for events that he would never see, events he would not be apart of. It was a miserable existence, and the consort couldn't see that as his life. Not now, and not ever…

Merlin wordlessly pointed at the cloth on the left, not giving it nearly as much thought as he had the other items that had already been shoved in his face during this unfortunate time. Unless nobles had far stronger eyesight then Merlin gave them credit for, not one of them would have been able to tell if he'd chosen the wrong one. Besides, even if he had, it wasn't as if the sorcerer would be there himself. Merlin hadn't been invited, so he also wouldn't have to see what he was sure would be a catastrophe of reactions caused by whatever he'd chosen.

The maid holding onto them nodded, before folding the two back into her arms. Merlin wondered if she'd get them mixed up, or if she was actually able to tell which of the colors was which one. The maid turned to Mary, "Come, Mary, we've got work to do and one less pair of hands is that much more work the rest of us will have to do." She said gruffly, though she was darting her eyes back to Merlin. And the consort was able to tell exactly why that was. Obviously, if Merlin wanted too, he could have made Mary stay. But if he wasn't going to say anything, then the second maid was going to take Mary back to the kitchens with her.

Because the maid didn't trust that Merlin wouldn't try to 'hurt her', again the second she left. It left him with a sour taste in his mouth, watching as the other maid took Mary by the arm-like Merlin couldn't do himself when she had been crying her eyes out-before being carted back down the hall towards the kitchens. The blond serving girl happily looked over her shoulder at him, and waved cheerily. Clearly not the victim of any domestic abuse, as her friend had thought. But did the second maid realize this? Of course not. And she was shoving Mary through the kitchen doors, back to where she thought it was safe and somewhere Merlin wouldn't follow.

Nobles probably didn't venture down to the kitchens for themselves very often. With all of the servants at their disposal, it probably would have made an odd sight to see one now. And though Merlin wanted to chase that other make down and try to explain that he would 'never' lay his hand on somebody, he didn't budge. Merlin had already concluded that it would do him no good, and changing his mind now wouldn't be much help either. Chasing her down like some kind of raging lunatic…Merlin figured it would probably only reinforce the idea the maid already had on him: that he was the type of man that didn't care if he hurt any other.

"Oh!" Merlin looked back up when the kitchen doors were slamming open, and Mary stuck her head back out. Looking relieved when she saw that he was still standing there, and hadn't wondered off to any parts unknown quite yet. "I almost forgot to ask you," she called out to him, holding onto the edge of the door as she looked at him with a bright smile. "Madame Clara is going to have my head if I don't come back with your order. Did you want the pork, it's fresh and comes from Camelot's best stock. Or maybe you will prefer the chicken? The girl's here really know how to cook it. Only the best for royalty, you know."

Merlin didn't know what he had been expecting for Mary to tell him, but what he did know was that he didn't want to be given another decision that had to be made. Merlin wanted to be useful in life. He had this insane urge inside of him, telling him that he had to be needed…that he had to do something that was actually going to make a difference. And he couldn't see how…choosing table clothes and food and plates and whatever other nonsense would come at him as the hours drew nearer to the party. None of that was going to satisfy Merlin…none of this would help heal at least a little bit of the scarring Arthur had put onto his soul.

Doing something big…something that was so huge and wonderful…leaving his mark on the world, maybe that would have made all of this pain worth it. Maybe he would even come to accept that it had to happen for a reason…as long as something could have came out of it. But the only thing Merlin could think of, was the one thing that could have given him his freedom …magic. Bringing magic back to the world, showing how wonderful it was and how beautiful magic could be…the dragon under the city had given him so much hope. When they had first met, and he told Merlin his magic was here for a reason. That Merlin had this big destiny that was awaiting him…what could have been a greater contribution to the world then making sure it was a safe place for everybody. Even for the people that were the most different.

But the dragon had clearly been ducking around with him when he told him about this 'destiny' that would be awaiting him. Merlin? A powerful warlock? Hearing that referred to himself should've been Merlin's first clue. But he had been too caught up in his wonder to think of it. Merlin couldn't even look at Arthur without feeling as if he was falling into an abyss, that was so deep and dark, nobody would ever hear him when he screamed. How could he have been stupid enough to think he could be the one to bring magic back to the world…

"…Chicken." Merlin blurted out, when he saw that the serving girl was still staring at him, waiting for Merlin to give her an answer. Mary nodded brightly, before she was ducking back into the kitchen to give out the order. Merlin supposed it hadn't really mattered at all to begin with…chicken or pork? It wasn't as if Merlin was going to be there to eat it. It would be kinda hard to eat a meal meant for a party when he was back in his room, content to pretend the outside world would not be passing him by as he tried to sleep the entire next week away.

"Chicken?" The voice came from somewhere behind him, dark and powerful. Merlin's spine went stiff and hard. He knew who that voice belonged too, without needed to turn around and see the face that he knew would be accompanying it. It was the same voice that haunted his nightmares. The voice inside of his head that whispered darkly, telling him constantly that he wasn't good enough for anything. Telling him he was 'never' going to be good enough, no matter what he had done or how he he tried. "Is that what you spend your days doing? Eating all of our food as if we don't have things that need doing?"

Arthur Bloody Pendragon.