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!

106. Chapter 106

There was far more people standing in the entrance hall then Merlin would have thought. A good two dozen or so at the least, just milling around the room as they waited to get this show on the road, so to speak. Most of them seemed to be knights, clad with red colored capes and their shining silver armor gleaming in the light inside the room. Swords poised on their hips as a show of strength for their kingdom, or a warning in case anybody that was standing with Bayard's group tried to cause trouble. But Merlin could see that there was also the odd servant or three among their numbers.

These serving girls were clearly not apart of the events that were going on. They stood off among the sides of the room, standing in different corners until they would be needed or called upon. Each one held a large serving tray that Merlin would have spilled within the first couple of minutes because of the the sheer magnitude of all the refreshments piled on top. One girl held dozens of those little sticks, cubes of cheese and bite sized meat pieces pressed all up and down along the stem of it. There was a different girl that held more of a fruit tray, and on that tray was an array of different little crystal looking bowls. Each one was practically overflowing with different bits of fruit that could be picked through and taken from by another's leisure. One bowl held grapes-a mixture with green and purple both-and each one looked to be more juicy than the last. Another bowl held these bite size bits of baby carrots, the orange color more vibrate than any Arthur had seen before. And another bowl had these cut up pineapples, no doubt tasting just as sweet as it would appear. And so on, and on and on, at least a dozen or so of fruits to try.

The final serving girl, seemed to have what looked like the most dangerous of them all. She was balancing this large tray with at least a dozen or so goblets in this neat row. Each drink was filled to the brim with a rich purpling colored liquid, and Merlin wouldn't have been able to tell if it was wine or juice. But since this was supposed to be a celebration in the making, Merlin could take a gander on it being wine. Something impotent that would be able to mark the occasion as the many nobles waited for King Bayard to arrive. Any other time, when Merlin's stomach wasn't clenching in knots full of anxiety, he would have been impressed by the display. He knew he would have already dropped the tray, and make a catastrophe out of himself in front of everybody. But hey, at this point, what else was new? Merlin made more laughing stocks out of himself daily, then he did anything else.

Other then the knights and the serving girls, Merlin was also able to see a handful of council members that had been there that day, when he had pleaded his case right in front of them to release Gwen. The day Arthur turned it into a joke by claiming Merlin had forced some kind of attachment to her. He wasn't wrong, but it had sounded far more indecent, the way that Arthur had spoken of it. He was able to recognize them now though, being clad in head to toe with thick robes. Each one of them looked to be far more elaborate then the last of them. But as it turned out, not every council member had opted or were able to join it seemed. Merlin's heart was a stone inside of his belly because he couldn't see Gaius anywhere. He was obviously one of the few council members that had other just as important tasks to get done.

And of course, there was the main attraction. King Uther Pendragon, first of his name and current ruler of the fair kingdom of Camelot, was the only one that stood out in the open. The only one that stood directly in the middle of the room, awaiting impatiently for the newest King to arrive at his very doorstep. Clad in red that was far more elegant looking then any of his knights, and looked to be more expensive then anything his council members were wearing…the king had clearly dressed to make a hell of a statement for the second king. Even his crowd, perched on the top of his hairline, was shining and gleaming even more than a thousand gold coins could have looked.

Merlin couldn't understand it, how the king was able to look so refined, even when he had dozens of eyes that were latched onto his every movement. And looking they were, Merlin could see glances being cast over towards the tyrant king from everybody in the room, eyes moving by themselves every time they tried to look away. Merlin supposed Uther was probably used to the stares by this point in time. He had been born royalty, had he not? The king had probably been being stared at from exactly the first moment he opened his eyes. Merlin didn't think he would live to see a day where he became comfortable to stand in front of a crowd like this without blinking.

And staring at him, they were doing as well. Merlin could feels familiar itch forming under his skin when it ended up brought to his attention. The kind of itch that wasn't really there, but made Merlin want to claw his skin off of him nonetheless. The peeling of skin getting stuck right under his fingernails as he revealed blood, and muscles, and organs to the room around him. Give all of them the kind of show they would never forget, something that he knew would really get them talking. It was amazing, the consort thought to himself as his eyes darted across the room from person to person, taking it all in. How Merlin could literally be standing in a room filled with people all around him, and still feel completely alone.

And all because of one of the serving girls that Merlin had just been admiring, gave a startled gasp and nearly dropped her tray of fruits when she caught sight of his face. It was a bit of an over exaggerated reaction, Merlin thought glumly to himself, but it seemed to have gotten the message out there well enough. Within moments, he had people turning their attention away from Uther and onto him, Merlin was tenser then he had been before, he almost felt as if he was about to jump out of his skin. As people started whispering about him behind the back of their hands. Giving him fervent glances before they went back to their urgent whispering's.

Alone…Merlin thought as he hunched up his shoulders so they brushed against the bottom of his ears…he was all alone. There was no Gaius here, and he couldn't see Morgana, and not even Gwen was one of the girls who'd been chosen to serve this late morning. Merlin might as well have been in the middle of the ocean, floating with nowhere else to go. No life raft for him to hold onto and keep him afloat when the waves would become another thing he couldn't handle. No island that was stationed somewhere his eye could barely see, a distant shape in the far off distance, to give him hope that he'd be able to find stable footing soon. As long as he kept swimming in the right direction…

And then Arthur was there at his side, the warmth hitting the side of Merlin's body startling. Merlin flinched to the side, face contorted in surprise…he should know better by now then to let his guard down. Especially when the prince was in his vicinity. He hadn't even realized Arthur had already followed him inside, trailing behind him after Merlin had subsequently slammed the door into his face for being the insensitive jerk that he was. Arthur seemed to catch onto the fact that Merlin didn't want him to be near-as if Merlin screaming he was an abusive asshole hadn't been enough indicator-because he scowled.

"Come on." Arthur grunted harshly under his breath, and ignoring the vultures that were watching them both with a keen and steady eye. Unlike his father, while the blond prince was used to the many eyes, he never was able to ignore them quite completely. The prince tilted his head towards where his father was standing across the room, and silently indicating where his consort should go. "My father has been waiting on us for long enough. Which is still your fault, and don't go calling me abusive because I don't want to deal with you or your tardiness."

Arthur couldn't quite get the way Merlin had said 'there are other ways then hitting people to be abused' out of his mind. Other ways…what a load of hogwash. The only way to abuse somebody was if you laid a hand on them, and that was only if they didn't deserve it. Arthur knew in some instances, finding the proper way to disciple a troublemaker was one of life's greater delights. And the consort was the biggest troublemaker of them all…and he clearly expected for Arthur to handle him with some kind of kid glove. Instead of taking any criticism Arthur had given him and learned from his helpful advise so he would finally benefit from it. Just talking-even if Arthur had raised his voice a time or two-wasn't abuse. Arthur had never actually mentioned to go through with any of the more 'out there' disciplining methods…so what did Merlin have to complain about…? Absolutely nothing as far as Arthur was concerned. Just a boy trying to make waves and rock the boat because he had nothing better to do with his time…

Arthur spun around on his heel and strode across the room with purpose in his every step. He was careful with keeping his agitation off his face in front of the people, as the hard expression on his face warding people away so they wouldn't approach him. He didn't have the time to face anymore incompetence today, and Merlin would still be wearing that stupid neckerchief, and the deal was going to fall through because Bayard didn't like the boy he'd been forced to marry, and his father looked to be as pleased as Arthur felt. Which needless to say, he wasn't pleased at all. Especially since one would think, after the month that had just been them by, Merlin would have let go of this whole 'I'm abused' kick that he's on.

Merlin reluctantly followed, keeping his eyes focused on ahead of him, even if it felt as if he had stone wedges on the bottom of his shoes. Strapped to his feet, and would make it so much harder for him to walk forward. But still, the people whispered among themselves, looking at the consort as if he was some kind of sideshow freak. Many were surprised to see that Merlin was being included in something so huge for their kingdom. Especially as the consort was Unwanted, and often proved himself to be incompetent at the best of times. It didn't make sense to include Merlin, and yet…here he was. Ready to start up one more display for the nobles to nitpick and declare as 'not good enough' for their noble sensibilities.

Arthur only stopped walking when he reached in front of his father, and ducked his head down in a short bow that was proper for a prince. But didn't say a word, as Arthur knew to wait for his father to speak first. Merlin stepped up right behind him, and glanced up at the king, Uther's nostrils flared, and he gave a loud sniff of displeasure as he looked Merlin up and down after Merlin made a huge mistake-like daring to look the king in the eye. The small consort averted his eyes, scratching his nails right along his sleeve, since he knew the look in the king's eye. The look that said he was inspecting him, and finding him to be seriously lacking in all departments. Just like his own son often would.

King Uther utterly dismissed him, and turned back to his son without saying a word to Merlin. But Merlin found he was okay with that, more than okay actually. Silence was golden, and all of that. The Consort may have been able to get away with ignoring Arthur for as long as he had in the hall, but Merlin doubted he would get away trying to do the same to Uther. Merlin wasn't so far gone into his depression that he would throw every bit of caution that had been drilled into his from birth, that he would risk it all on ignoring the king. But being ignored only meant he didn't have to exert the energy needed to respond.

"You could not have done more to dress him up a little? This whole peasant attire of his has gone on for far long enough." Uther told Arthur gruffly, and Merlin's fingers twitched. He wanted to reach up and grasp his fingers against his neckerchief, twist his fingers into the cloth so snuggly that it would be a struggle to see which one ended and the other began. Merlin could still remember the fear he'd undertaken when Arthur had tried to take it away from him. His little comfort cloth…his one reminder of home that Arthur hadn't ruined for him. But Merlin did not have to worry about Uther trying to insist he undress in front of this crowd. Uther only had eyes on Arthur, "I do not want King Bayard thinking we thought so little of his impending arrival, that our one consort could not be bothered to dress properly."

Arthur shot the consort at his side a glance, knowing exactly how his father was feeling. Merlin really was an embarrassment, and if they weren't in a pubic space at the moment, he might have even said so himself. But as it was, something's needed to only be said when it was among themselves. Arthur only wished he had thought of his consort before his father had sent him to look for him. If he had, then maybe Arthur could have had time to force him into something more proper. Although, the prince didn't know why this should have been forced on his shoulders, he had enough on his plate and shouldn't have to worry about Merlin's appearance as well. Merlin had a manservant, that boy that had been following his consort around weeks ago, should have known to dress Merlin proper this morning. Maybe Arthur should have a talk with him…or just get the steward in charge of all the servants to make sure the manservant had been trained enough to handle the simple matter of a Royal Consort's wardrobe.

"I sincerely apologize for my consort's appearance, and I'm sure it will be corrected before tonight's feast." The prince said, shifting his eyes back away from the form of his consort. Arthur tilted his head to the king as he was apologizing on the behalf of his consort, and taking the public blame as the more dominant partner. "It took me longer than I anticipated to track him down, and you do know my consort. Never prepared for anything. I simply thought King Bayard will prefer our presence, instead of not showing at all because Merlin didn't prepare himself as he should have."

Merlin looked away, knowing Arthur had done twisted it around so that this was somehow his fault. But he knew there was no chance in trying to defend himself. Merlin knew King Uther was not known for his patience, nor did the king ever side against his own son. After Merlin saw no reason to try, and people were still looking directly at him, and when was the King supposed to show up…and Merlin wanted to leave. Leave…leave…Merlin darted his eyes towards the door but there was a group of people that had conjugated in front of the exit now that nobody else was expected to come. He wouldn't be able to just walk out of here…his chest felt tight…

"I vaguely recall somebody making me promises that this whole 'lateness' wasn't going to become a habit of his." Uther suddenly said, and Merlin jolted, realizing he was now talking to him. Merlin could feel his ribs when they started to constrict against his organs now that he was being put underneath the microscope before King Uther himself. "The one thing a noble knows how to do is keep their word. A noble that doesn't speak the truth is not one that is worth knowing among the court. I will trust that you will remember that from now on, will you not, Consort Merlin?"

Merlin's title sounded more like a vile curse, spitting as if Uther had swallowed poison just before he said it. Merlin moved his hands so that they were situated behind him, hiding the violent twisting Merlin was doing to his sleeve from the king and the prince. This…it was nothing but a joke, or at least…Merlin wished that it was a joke. A look at Uther's hard expression though, clearly proved that it was no joke at all. A noble's word…they didn't lie…wasn't the only thing they were doing was lying? Lying to all the people who knew something was up, but didn't have all the pieces to put everything together.

The contract between the Pendragon family and his own family, was the biggest lie in Camelot secret. And it had been carefully hidden away from anybody else that had not been important enough to be in the know. But then again…nobles knew how to twist their words enough so that they couldn't be accused of not keeping their word. But on the other hand…Uther was a hypocrite. The king was the first one to lie, when he had said he would give Merlin twelve hours to find proof of Gwen's innocence. And here he was, bringing up a comment Merlin made to him back when Valiant was still running around the place as if it was his own.

And Merlin could see Arthur straightening up beside him before the king, this proud expression plastered across his face. As if…as if he was pleased by what Uther had just said, pleased that he was this man's son. It was as if Arthur didn't see how hypocritical Uther was being right now. And Merlin's lips thinned, the small spark of anger-righteous and powerful in it's own right-started to slowly build up inside him. But like the changing of the tides, all it took was for Merlin to let out a small breath before the tension in his muscles relaxed.

"I apologize, my lord." Merlin said lowly, muttering softly as his mouth barely opened to let loose the words. And he lowered his eyes downcast to the floor, and allowing his bangs to fall forward into his eyes. A living doll Merlin was, only here to please the court and given them all the things they wanted from him. His dignity, his life, and his soul…whatever they wanted was going to be ripped right out of him until they got the version of Merlin they would want. A version that Merlin feared didn't exist…and while he may still have a beating heart, the consort was just as dead on the inside as any corpse was. "I will be sure that it won't happen again."

Beside him, Arthur winced when he saw how the other boy was standing. That was the stance of a peasant in the face of the king, not the way a consort should show respect for said king. And from the way Arthur could see Uther's scowl hardened, the king had also noticed how Merlin conducted himself. That was it, Arthur decided to himself, things have gone on for long enough. Clearly he needed to take Merlin's education far seriously then he'd been. King Bayard may only be the first king that's taken the time to visit Camelot, but he would hardly be the last one to do so. They would be lucky to finish Bayard's visit unscathed, but there were more shrewd kings that were not going to stand for even the slightest insult. Even if it was something as small as Merlin's stance…showing off Camelot being weak if he was seen being the deference party in front of others.

Before Arthur could hiss at Merlin on now his stance was wrong and how it should be for a Royal Consort-and the boy was probably gonna start sprouting more of the 'I'm being abused' crap he had started, because Arthur was not interested in handling him with kid gloves, and didn't have any patience for it, there was a blow from a horn. It echoed throughout the chambers, being loud and strong and powerful enough to make the entire chamber halt in conversation. And one by one, the people inside turned to see the announcer standing by the grand doors that led to the outside world.

The announcer only made three short bursts come out of his horn, before he was lowering it from his mouth as everyone's attention had turned sorely onto him, "May I announce his Royal Highness and his Entourage!" Merlin watched all of this, being the only one who dared to take his eyes off of the announcer as he glanced from person to person. There was a certain tension in the air that the consort hadn't been there before, and for once, it didn't seem to be able him. This 'King Bayard' really seemed to be turning people into knots, even Arthur was starting to look anxious, the prince tugging on his clothes while he brushed out invisible wrinkles. "King Bayard, taker of the Mercia Throne, leader of the kingdom nearest to one of the seven seas-"

While the announcer continued giving an impressive and endless lists of all of Bayard's accomplishments-both of which was given to him by his birthright, and things he'd actually done in his lifetime (and Merlin was left trying to figure out exactly how long it had taken for the man with the horn to memorize all of that)-the effect he had when it came to the people was instantaneous. All the people who were not immediately involved with the going-on's of the court, stepped back so that they were filed right up against the wall. Nobles trying to make themselves to look more important then the last, councilmen behaving like self conscious teens as they smoothed back all the little hair they had, servants readjusting their trays as if to draw attention to their sweet delights. And even King Uther and Prince Arthur were not immune to the effects of it all.

Uther took his place directly in the room, turning to face the doors Bayard was expected to come in at. The King placed his hands down on either side of him, and stood with his feet shoulder width apart. Arthur took his place just behind the king-literally at his right shoulder just like a right hand man, the king's most honored position-and adopted the same posture. If Merlin had any doubt that Arthur was the son of the king, the identical expression on both of the royal's faces would have stopped on that train of thought immediately. Nobody who looked as the two of them did, could be anything other than father and son, even with their different coloring.

And they were not the only ones that moved. Five of the knights, their red capes flowing behind them as the men chosen by the king himself to be their guardians and the protectors of the royal family should things go sideways from this simple introduction, stepped into place behind the royal family. Merlin instantly recognized three of the chosen knights, the other two virtual strangers to him: it was Knight Christian, and Knight Bryon, and the prince's own best friend Knight Markus. Three of the worse that could have been chosen, and Merlin whipped around his head so that he was facing the front of him.

It didn't really help, because Merlin could still hear one of them-Christian-he thought, snickering somewhere behind him. Merlin could feel his cheeks burning, and his fingers twitching at his sides hotly. He didn't know why he was being laughed at, but he knew it had to be because of him. He could feel the others glaring at him instead of laughing at him…Knight Bryon was the one that liked to trip him up in the halls the most. Though he had recently started for full body attacks by shoving the consort into the nearest wall hard enough for Merlin to bang his head against it. Knight Markus…Merlin hadn't really seen much of him. But he was the one that left the massive bruise around his wrist a few weeks ago. It was the bruise Merlin had thought Arthur had left on him at first…

And speaking of Arthur, Merlin hadn't heard the prince subtly hissing at him over the loud and long droning of the announcer speaking. Until the prince got a little bit louder. It was amazing how fast Merlin's heart could go into his throat, how stiff he could get when Arthur tried to talk to him, and whipped his head around to look at said prince startled. Arthur didn't seem to notice any of the glaring going on from behind them…if something did happen and Bayard's people attacked, Merlin just knew he would be left to defend himself on his own, even if it was the knight's duty to 'protect' the royal family.

And speaking of Arthur…the prince was hissing at him again, and while Merlin couldn't hear him over the voice of the announcer still going on about Bayard and all his accomplishments, Merlin could read his lips. Stand. Like. Me. Over and over again until Merlin could finally get the message, and Merlin's eyes dropped to take in the way the prince was standing. The whole hands down at his side confidently, and his feet shoulder width apart as he showed off his strength. Merlin ducked his head again…it was a stupid thing, really. To feel another part of what was once his soul, starting to shreds away from his core as he shifted into stance mindlessly.

A living doll, indeed.

Merlin instantly felt vulnerable in this new position, and he could see why the royals were so into using it. If one could stand like this, behave as if they had no fear, then it would probably make their own enemies nervous. But Merlin only wanted to wrap his arms back around him so it felt as if he had some kind of coverage against a world so cruel. Just crossing his arms over his chest would've made him feel better, at least he would have some kind of protection if one of the knights got bold enough and shoved him right in front of everybody. That was one of the things Merlin had noticed. The people who touched him only did so when they were either alone, or in a very small cluster of like minded people. They'd never gone so far, and done it in front of a noble non-knight. And it had definitely not been done in front of the royal family themselves…

Arthur glanced him over up and down, before nodding to say his stance was good. Not good…Arthur thought, but it was acceptable at least. Merlin's shoulder's still had a slight hunch to them that shouldn't be there, and if he'd been instructing Merlin properly, he would have took the boy by the shoulders and forced them even with his own hips. Maybe stack a couple of books on top of his head to keep him balanced, train him into standing straight till it was second nature. That's what his tutors had done to him when he was ten, until the uncouth slouch the blond had started to develop was gone. And it would definitely do Merlin some good to be trained the same way…

Arthur cast another glance towards the announcer just to see where he was in his monologue. The prince had studied everything he could about Bayard and Mercia as soon as he learned the deal was really going to happen, and it was no longer 'just talking' anymore. And he knew the announcer was starting to die down some, his words coming to an end as he finished up. Arthur had to warn Merlin quickly, because once Bayard got inside the room then Arthur couldn't keep busy with worrying about the consort. He would need to stay focused on Bayard, and do his due diligence as a proper prince. He couldn't be split between Bayard and Merlin, already knowing he'd be more focused on Merlin to see rather or not he was doing something that would need to be corrected.

Arthur leaned over, Merlin was in the perfect position to do this as he stood right behind the king's left shoulder. The king's left hand was literally the spot where the king was supposed to have his Royal Enforcer, a muscle man, a figure who was the strongest that the Royal Army had to offer. A man who was not afraid to get his hands dirty and deal with threats from the background, even if that meant neutralizing the threat before it could become an actual threat. All in deference to the king himself. But he had been bumped to behind them among the other men, to stand silent watch, once Merlin was brought in. Which was only proper for the Royal Consort to need the same protection as the king and prince, probably more since the consort couldn't protect himself the same.

But anyway…

"The only thing you need to remember how to do is not to say a word. I know that it can be difficult, but I'm sure you'll have plenty of time to talk later all you want. King Bayard is here to tie up the loose ends of the deal, not to hear whatever you have to say." Arthur hissed sternly, as he tried to drill that into Merlin's head as quickly as able before King Bayard entered. Now, granted, Arthur could admit by this point that sometimes Merlin didn't sound as dumb as he looked. But those occurrences were rare between everything else that Merlin said, and a meeting with a king wasn't exactly the best place for Merlin to go practicing his speech skills. "Just stand back and let me handle everything. And we'll get you out of here in case Bayard actually shows an interest in you."

Arthur didn't understand why anybody would show any fascination towards his consort, Merlin wasn't all that interesting to people that weren't like him, stuck trying to understand more of Merlin's peasant tendencies. But he was sure there would be some level of interest there, as there always was when a new player entered the field of nobility. Bayard would probably expect to speak with Consort Merlin for a minute, if only for them to have the proper introduction. But Arthur would prefer to step in and keep the attention off the consort, just in case the boy really didn't keep his mouth shut. He'd been doing good about it so far, and while it had irritated Arthur just moments before, he could only find relief with it now. If only Merlin was able to keep it up until this was over.

Merlin dimly nodded, agreeing with Arthur…he wanted to slip back into his dark place. Where he could find all the warmth and safety that lied denied him, but the sound of the announcer blowing his horn again jolted Merlin back into his reality. Arthur straightened back up at the King's right shoulder, and behind Merlin, the five knights made themselves go taunt as they moved themselves into the most impressive stances they could get into. The sound of the horn echoed throughout the chambers with three short bursts to show that the announcer was done with listing all of Bayard's accomplishments.

And then the Grand Doors flung open, both of them, and hard enough to slam against the walls. The sound as the doors hit echoed throughout the chambers, but it felt as if Merlin was the only one that winced at it. And the man with the horn had to jump back, before he was clipped in the side by the doors. And a man who seemed looked to be larger than life strode into the room, an air of nobility and confidence surrounding him like a cloak would. And Merlin couldn't resist peeking over Uther's shoulder and getting a proper peek in on this new king that everybody was turning themselves upside down to try and impress.

Bayard was a stockier man than King Uther, and with far more meat on his bones than Camelot's king. And King Bayard was wearing a silver tunic, brown leather boots, thick brown riding pants, and a thick brown leather belt, all underneath the cloak that was a far deeper blue than any ocean ever would be. It's color situated around the other king's shoulders, fell elegantly down to his feet. It was just as vibrant as Camelot's red cloaks were, but the consort could not help but notice that the rich color was not as harsh against his eyes as the red was. It was a far better color, in Merlin's unsolicited opinion.

The King Bayard had longer hair that fell just below his ears, much curlier than Merlin had even thought nobles would allow their hair to grow. He had dark eyes, and he had wrinkles from years of age and the stress of being a king. And on his forehead, was a golden crown that the consort could see was quite similar to the one that Uther wore. But there were subtle differences he could see, as the sharpened points of the crown looked more rounded on Bayard's. More wavy, like the ocean, instead of sharp like the fire Uther's crown could show, if one looked at it close enough. And Bayard had a few jewels imbedded in the golden material with different shades of blue, clearly made to show off the wealth and power of Mercia and its people.

There was a noticeable lack of space directly behind the King, the spot where his family would've been expected to stand similar to how Uther had him and Arthur behind him. It did make Merlin wonder rather or not Bayard had a family of his own at all, or if he had decided they would be better off left at home. For their own protection? …Or maybe Bayard didn't want to bore them to death as King Uther would surely try to do the same to them. But King Bayard did have five knights of his own standing behind him.

Most of the 'entourage', Merlin was able to see through the opened grand doors, seemed to have been left out in the yard to start unpacking the multitude of carriages parked out front. Except for the five chosen knights that looked as impressive standing there as the five Camelot Knights did. Each one clad in their blue cloaks, swords in their scabbard's tied to their belts. It made Merlin feel as if he was out in place, standing among all of them when he didn't look nearly as impressive. Just a scrawny little rat among them all, waiting for somebody to try chewing him up and spitting him out.

Uther was the first of Camelot's men to start striding to meet King Bayard in the middle of the room. Arthur was following along right behind him, looking as if he forgot he had appointed himself Merlin's 'watcher', now that all of the festivities were starting to move into place. Merlin found himself being forced to follow along anyway, when the knights started to move forward. Merlin stumbled his way along just behind Arthur, nearly tripping on his own large and clumsy feet, to avoid being walked on all over by the knight brigade forcing him ahead. It was this very awkward walk, that led him to once again asking how in the world had he became somebody that lived right on the fringes of society. To…this…

"Camelot welcomes you, Lord Bayard of Mercia." Uther announced as soon as both men stopped in the center of the room, eyeing each other with caution as if they thought the other was about to attack them during what was supposed to be a peace meeting. Merlin thought King Uther sounded very practiced, and he couldn't help but wonder how many times the king had practiced this exact moment in the mirror. To make sure that he would get the whole introduction just right. "The treaty that we will sign here today, shall mark an end to the war we've had between our people for a decade. And will now be a new beginning to a fresh friendship between our lands."

Merlin's frown deepened, trying to understand that. As far as he was aware, there wasn't any actual war feuding between the two kingdoms. There was no soldiers trying to invade the other's lands, no trying to conquer villages under a different kingdom. From what little Merlin heard about the relationships between the kingdoms of Mercia and Camelot, there were certainly tensions. Enough that they attacked the other should they come across each other on the road. But a 'war' seemed like it was an over exaggeration. But maybe that was just how kings talked to one another, especially during peace talks and trade agreements. Making a mountain out of a mole hill and all of that…though Merlin figured peace wouldn't exactly be a bad thing.

Merlin watched as Uther reached out his hand in honor, and being welcoming to the guest in their kingdom. The King of Mercia stared at the hand for a moment, as if he was trying to detect the trick in it. Merlin caught himself just before he started to shake his head no, in what may have been a subtle warning to King Bayard to not make a deal of any kind with Uther. But…it didn't matter, since the other king didn't look in his direction once. The King of Mercia reached out, and clasped his hand around the Camelot King's bicep, just as Uther did to his own.

This was a gentlemen's handshake, a shake between two men who wanted peace and prosperity between the two kingdoms. A kind of handshake that could change all of their lives, or at least, that was the goal. But Merlin didn't see it as such. While peace and proper trade and everything going into this deal sounded like it would be a good thing, Merlin could only stare at the two hands as they clasped the other. It was akin to a devil's shake and Merlin-with his own trauma over making any kind of deal with Uther-couldn't help but think that King Bayard had just made a huge mistake.

A glint of gold caught Merlin's eye, and he peered over the king of Camelot, seeing a golden ring sitting around Bayard's ring finger. So, Merlin thought dimly, as he fell back into his spot, the King of Mercia was also married. He didn't know why that was such a big deal to know, a king's personal life was hardly something he should be concerned about. But…maybe it was Merlin's own issues that had him wondering rather or not Bayard had ended up bringing his queen with him. Maybe she was outside in one of the carriages, another living doll who only had to wait for her kingly husband to finish his duties before returning to her. Did the Queen of Mercia also smile only when she had too, just as empty and as lifeless as both of her eyes were. Or maybe he was thinking too harshly on this. Merlin was sure King Bayard's Queen would be a noble woman, so she probably wouldn't be having all of the same experiences that he was. Or…

Maybe Bayard had a mistress of his own…like the kind of relationship that was developing between Arthur and the Lady Clarissa. Why…Merlin thought, squeezing his hand into a fist at his side, irrational anger surging through his body when he didn't even know all the facts…did people get married in the first place? Was Bayard's mistress the one out there, sitting in one of the many carriages lining the courtyard. Marriages…they seemed to be nothing to these people other then business transactions. Trading around their belonging's until they found somebody that could offer them something in return for what they were able to bring into the marriage.

Arthur was the first one to move when the kings let go of the other one. A loud clap of his hands, which startled the consort at his sides. But Arthur wasn't the only one, he was only the first. And within moments, the entire hall was clapping their hands together. Camelot Red and the ones standing in Mercia Blue, clapped their hands with a thunderous roar. Celebrating how things were just about to begin. Celebrating the peace that was going to bridge two kingdoms together for quite some time to come. All of the people clapped as one unit, instead of two people from different realms of life.

Merlin glanced around himself, before he started to clap himself awkwardly. Even though everybody was doing the exact same thing, Merlin couldn't help but feel as if he was standing out. Like he was the outsider that was not meant to be permitted inside of the room, let along being in the dead epicenter of everything that would be happening. Merlin wasn't apart of Mercia or any of the problems the kingdom had been having against the city of Camelot. And while Merlin may legally belong within this city, Merlin's heart kept calling him back to the quiet fields of Ealdor. This whole thing…it should be between Camelot and Mercia. Not outsiders like him.

How was Merlin to know, while everybody was watching in complete fascination as the two kings were publicly putting aside their differences, there was somebody in the crowd that was completely fascinated with Him. Just outside the opened doors, where all of the other's from Mercia were standing in the wings, waiting for the king to give them their next order, there was dozens of young servants. All able bodied and ready to work in service of the king, and prove they were just as good as any other servant from Camelot was. And among these servants was a young woman, who looked as if she herself was just barely twenty winters old. Her pale skin shone right under the sun, and her dark red lips twitched up with all the curiosity in the world now that she was seeing Merlin in person…seeing the Consort that had been in her mind for several months now.

Her dark black hair was twisted along the back of her head, covered by a blue turban like cloth, showing off her pride in Mercia as she hid among their numbers. All that was out was two long strands, falling down in loose curls on either side of her face and reaching the top of her chest. It had been quite a while since she had been able to leave her cave in the woods, but it had also been far too easy for her to infiltrate the Mercia caravan. With so many people coming to the kingdom, nobody around had noticed one more servant being added among their numbers.

The clapping among the crowd started to die down one by one, and everybody started to move on with all their business. Camelot servants took a spot by the doors to offer their refreshments to the Camelot nobles leaving the room to prepare themselves for the feast and official signing that was happening tonight. Mercia servants on the outside quickly started getting to work, taking their luggage's out of the carriages. Mercia Knights stood by surrounding them, making sure that nobody tried taking their belonging's. This may be a peace talk, and a truce being formed, but there was still some tension that they knew came from being behind enemies lines.

Eventually, the room emptied out, leaving only the main group behind. This group includes Camelot's King. And Camelot's Prince. And Camelot's Consort. And the five knights that stood behind them, though they did back up so they were no longer on top of the Royal family. But they were not the only one, as Mercia's King, and all five of the knights he had brought in with him, stood beside him. There was a moment of silence where the everyone in the group looked around to see which one would end up being the one brave enough to speak first. In a peace talk, a single word could be twisted or misconstrued into something else. And could ruin all of the effort and work that had gone into it, if a member of the party ended up insulted before the papers could be signed.

Merlin glanced around, and wondered if this would be the best opportunity he could get to sneak away. Merlin didn't think he would get another chance like this, and it was over, which meant surely Arthur didn't need a living prop to hang off his side. Merlin took a step back toward the doors he had came in at, but he froze when he came across the unmistakable heat of another human body up against his backside. Merlin slowly tiled his head back to meet eyes with one of the two knights in their protection detail that he hadn't known. The knight glared daggers down at him, but Merlin didn't know rather or not it was because Merlin had back into him, or because he knew Merlin had been trying to escape.

Merlin swallowed hard, his fingers twitching helplessly down at his side. Clearly, his presence was not done with just yet, and the consort found himself suffering his feet back to Arthur's side. His feet felt as if he had these concrete slabs stuck to them, weighted down onto the floor and keeping him right where they wanted him to be at. If somebody had thrown Merlin into a lake right about now, the consort knew he would have sunk straight to the bottom without fight or fuss. Arthur didn't even act as if he had noticed Merlin trying to leave, focused only on the new King in their midst. As if the prince thought if he looked away, he might miss something that proved to be a threat later on.

Bayard was the first to speak up, taking his eyes away from the royal family so that he could look around at the large red tapestries that covered the walls, showing off impressive battles from generations pass. There was a tapestry in the far corner that had what looked like the King-Uther-battling against a dragon with nothing but a sword. And he ended up standing above its broken body with his sword held up in victory. It was supposed to be showing off the king's strength, but Merlin only saw it as gaudy. And unrealistic. After seeing the dragon down in the caves, and seeing the thick skin covering the hide of the dragon, he doubted a simple sword would have been enough to take down even one dragon. Back when they had been an abundance before Uther had, by some kind of mystery, managed to do away with them.

"It's been quite a while since I have last stood in these halls, Uther. It's been a good oh, twenty five years or so at least, if I am remembering correctly." Bayard said in a deep tone, continuing to pick out any differences in the hall today, that hadn't been there twenty five years ago when he had apparently last visited Camelot. The King dropped all pretenses of formality that they were forced to follow during the introductions. "In fact, I believe that the last time I had to vacant these halls and return back home, it had been right after…"

Bayard cut himself off abruptly, but from the expression of tightness Uther wore, he remembered exactly what it was that happened twenty five years ago. They had only been princes at the time, and Bayard had came to live in the kingdom for a few weeks during a tourney, before all the tension between their kingdoms had really taken off. Uther had been trying unsuccessfully to court the young Lady Ygraine, who in a few years time, would become a mother-Arthur's mother. Bayard and Uther had gotten in quite a rivalry during the tournament, being that the two of them were the top contenders in the tourney. And the rivalry often extended to beyond the field.

One such rememberable time, had been when Bayard stated that he intended on courting Lady Ygraine, and whisk her back to Mercia to live as his queen. That had gone on the entire time the tourney was in play, with the Prince Bayard doing everything he could to win the Lady and her affections. But Lady Ygraine hadn't exactly been swayed by their macho display, showing no interest with their primitive ways of showing they cared for her. But it had all came to a head on the final day of the tourney, as Uther had allowed his rage to get the best of him.

Bayard and Uther had-against the rules of the tourney-gotten into a fist fight in the middle of the quarters that the knights stayed in while they waited for their match to be called. Fighting outside of the tourney grounds would not be permitted, not even for Camelot's crown prince. It had led to both boys injured, and no longer allowed were either of them allowed to compete. Bayard was taken to the infirmary of the last court physician to be treated for a broke nose. And Uther was resting within the comforts of his own room till he was seen too, with a set of purple colored, bruised ribs from being punched there.

It wasn't so bad, because Ygraine had ended up visiting him to see how he was doing. Uther had been excited to see her, until he had learned she had already visited the other prince before she came to him. And after learning that Uther would live, she had started fussing at him in a way Uther hadn't known possible. Screaming at him for being so stupid, and getting into a fight like children and not just settling it in the field like adults would. That the Prince Uther could have gotten himself killed if Bayard had been any other opponent! Uther had been horrified and actually scared of her…that was probably the day he had fallen in love with her.

Uther and Bayard had never really worked out any of the differences they had, and it would still take Prince Uther many months before Ygraine agreed to a courtship with him. But on the last day of the tourney before everybody was set out to leave, Bayard and Uther did have just one last conversation. Bayard's nose had a bandage across it to hold the broken muscle in place, and Uther had many bandages wrapped around his torso under his shirt so it wouldn't aggravate his ribs when he moved about. It had not been a pretty conversation, and Uther had held onto this almost grudge against the other king that had not a thing to do with the tensions that would later form right between their kingdoms.

Bayard had basically confessed that he had never liked Ygraine in the first place. And was only flirting and doing all of these courtship attempts on the Lady because he had wanted to distract Uther from the tourney. As what was more distracting to a man during a fight, other then thinking his Lady would reject him for another, who had not even liked them to begin with. Uther had been two seconds away from starting another fistfight with that prince, if that wasn't when Bayard was called away so he could board his carriage. The Young Bayard had flashed Uther a cheeky grin, before running off to join his group.

Maybe it had been a good thing Bayard had left when he had. If Uther had proven his immaturity by starting one more fight with the other prince, it was very likely that Ygraine would have never accepted him when he first approached her about an official courtship. She'd only agreed because she had seen his awful attempts with trying to prove himself in her eyes. And she had been intrigued enough, and willing enough, to see where this could go. It had ended with a marriage, a queen he knew would always stand by his side, and an heir to his throne to secure the future of his kingdom. And then…it ended with tragedy…

"Yes, well, times were different then, as I do believe that both of us have grown since then." Bayard said, clearing his throat as if he understood he had made a mistake in mentioning the fallen Queen. Bayard may not have liked the queen in a romantic sense when she was just a lady of the court, but he had been saddened all the same, by the time the news had reached Mercia. "And I will hope that we can both move on from the follies of our youth. If we are to be allies after tonight's signing, we cannot be held up by the past mistakes we both made during those times."

Uther's lips were thinned, but he nodded his head with the other king. He had not appreciated Bayard almost mentioning Ygraine, especially not in front of Arthur. He did not talk much about his wife, never actually. At least not more than once or twice when Arthur was small, and asked questions about why he didn't have a mother. And even that had been a simple 'she's dead, do not ask any about her again'. But this treaty was too important for his people to mess it up by allowing his famous temper ruin it by a misspoken king from his youth.

"Of course, it is already forgotten." King Uther told King Bayard as diplomatically as he could. The treaty…it was going to bring fresh food to his people. All he needed to do was get those papers signed, and he would not ever have to see the King again. King Uther could stand just one weekend with the other king standing here as one of his most important guest. How times really had changed one with age, when Uther would have been more willing to jump Bayard for the comment he had made about his Late Queen if he was still a teenager. "This treaty will be about new beginning's, after all. And settling a feud that has been going on between our people for far too long, I daresay. A simple comment will not be enough to break all that we have worked for these last many months."

Uther's thin smile spoke volumes about how 'not' okay it was, but it was impressive how he kept his cool. He was no longer the kind of king that went around signing any manner of contracts placed in front of him, especially a contract that would sign away the marriage of his first born son. Uther had twisted his words, bringing up the treaty between them even though this was only a simple meeting. The details of the contract had been ironed out already through the letters they've been sending off to the other in these last many months. This morning was supposed to be a time to relax, and prepare to celebrate the peace as the two kings came together. To prove they could be as peaceful in person, as they were within their letters. But…if the pomp and circumstances of tonight's feast wasn't so important, boosting up the kingdoms as they made a new mark in their history's chapters, Uther would have already tried to convince Bayard to sign off on the treaty right now. And then send him on his way…never to be seen by Uther again.

But Bayard didn't seem to notice Uther trying to direct the conversation to the reason why they were all here, or maybe Bayard had grown just as shrewd as the Camelot King was. And knew better than to engage with talks of the treaty during this peaceful time. Either way, it made Uther scowl, but Bayard definitely didn't notice, as he'd already turned to the next in line. "And this strapping lad must be your son, Prince Arthur. I have heard many tales about what you've already achieved in your young life. It is quite the reputation, you have seemed to have already fashioned during your brief time on this planet."

It wasn't odd for King Bayard to know certain things that was going on with other noble families. The changing of the political climate, the specifics of who's who inside of the Royal family…what their special skills or the triumphs they had, as well as anything disgraceful. A responsible King, knew to keep his feelers out for anything going on in the other kingdom's. If Arthur was going to take over the ruling of Camelot one of these days, there could be a good chance that he would come in contact with the Mercia King for himself. And if that happened, then King Bayard needed to know who he was dealing with, and if he needed to cut all ties with Camelot's throne the day of Arthur's coronation.

The reports Bayard had gotten over the years about the prince had showed him in an…unfavorable light. He had been reported as cocky, and rude, and arrogant, though he had done a few remarkable things like being the lead on raids that were publicly celebrated. Nothing that was too off for a young noble, especially for a prince, but all of it had led Bayard with no interest in meeting with the young heir. But then…a few months ago, the King Bayard had received an invoice from Camelot. A letter that had been sent to all of the kingdoms so they could have the new member of the royal family placed in their records.

It had definitely sparked a renew interest in the heir of the Pendragon's, and was exactly why Bayard held his hand out to the young Pendragon. The handshake that was meant to be between two men, and not just a man meeting the adult son of his one time rival. Arthur was looking down at the hand in question, but he also knew better then to rebuff the other king. "It is a pleasure to meet you as well, and welcome you to our kingdom." He said, shaking the hand once just as he had been taught-a strong handshake proved one was a strong man-and let go just as fast. "I have heard great things about you and your kingdom. It is an honor to be able to put a face to the name as well."

This was a downright lie, as the only thing Uther would tell him about Mercia and it's king, was a slew of how he was going to ruin his own kingdom one of these days. It was said in confidence between the two of them, as well as Uther impressing how important this treaty was for all of them. They would be able to survive without the grain Bayard's kingdom would give them, but things would be far easier with it. Besides, Arthur had pressed himself to the bone to make sure his reputation told of his exploits as prince. If Bayard was going to comment on it then-he straightened back his shoulders-he would take it with all the pride a prince could hold. And also, Arthur knew this game well. How nobles always buttered up other nobles to get what they wanted…and Arthur could play it along with the best of them.

"All lies, I'm sure." Bayard chortled to himself, a smirk on his lips as he rested one of his hands on her hips. "But I do have to admit, out of all the exploits I have heard, I've found myself most curious to meet the young man who has apparently stolen the prince's heart-" both King and Prince froze when they heard where Bayard's interest in their affairs had landed. Arthur's smile became just a bit more fixated, suddenly insanely aware that his consort was standing right behind him. "And I will have to make my own assumptions, and assume that this lovely young creature behind you is the new Consort of Camelot."

Uther and Arthur blinked, both father and son looking a bit stumped by this turn of phrase…lovely? Merlin would be anything but lovely…and as for Merlin himself, it took him an embarrassingly long amount of time to realize he was being stared at. At some point, Merlin's eyes glazed over, and he had ended up staring at a off colored patch stain on the wall somewhere behind Bayard's head. And the consort thought it looked like a patch of blood…and for all Merlin knew, that was the remnants of some long since passed battle. Or some noble had another lower class citizen they loved to torment, and had bashed his head into the wall. Squashing it over and over again as if it was nothing more than a watermelon. One hard throw was all it would take to smash through the skull, and the muscle and skin, straight into the brain…Merlin tilted his head and kept staring.

Merlin had still heard everything that was being said, but it was like everything was going in one ear and straight out the other. A fog had encompassed his mind, taking him away and out of this situation where kings tried their hardest to outwit the other with their words instead of a battle with their fists. It was utterly dull, and all of these sweet pleasantries was nothing but pretend. Merlin was starting to wonder how bad it would hurt, or how hard it would be, to convince one of the guards behind him to take him by the head. And smash his head into the wall, the same spot where the other bloodstain was, over and over and over again. Until it was his turn for his head to crack open like a ripe watermelon under the harsh rays of the sun. But the words were starting to become a bit clearer, his foggy eyes a bit more focused as he started to realize the conversation had turned onto him…like it always did.

"Ah yes, well you know how young people are, and how often they follow their emotions. So yes, I am quite sure that my son finds his own consort to be quite the…lovely creature, as you said." Uther spoke generously. Only any king worth his salt, would be able to hide all the disdain in their voice as Uther had. Not a single person would've known Uther considered Merlin to be a thorn in his side, one that needed to be clipped down to the root. "But I'll leave that up to my son. Go on, Arthur. Tell Bayard how enthralled with your consort you are…"

Arthur jolted back to attention, having to literally rip his eyes off of his consort so that he could look at the king. But just as fast, was Arthur returning his eyes back onto his consort. The prince frowned, and tilted his head just a little to try and see Merlin at a different angle. He tried to see Merlin from Bayard's point of view…what would he think of him if Merlin had been married off to somebody else. And Arthur was the one that had been meeting him for the first time somewhere other then the altar. As that had been the time Arthur had met his husband. The day Merlin had thrown that first punch at him…he had been only an unruly peasant boy. Not his consort-to-be…

Arthur looked Merlin over now, and tried to find any trait on his consort that would have been desirable. Or even a trait that could have been 'lovely'. The prince tried to think of the things he liked when he'd gotten interested in a woman for a brief time, and the prince could not say that Merlin held any of the traits he would've found to be appealing. He supposed…Merlin did have soft skin, soft like a woman. Arthur had grabbed onto Merlin's wrists to hold him down enough times to know that for sure. The consort had absolutely no muscle mass that one would expect in a man. But Bayard would hardly know his boy had soft skin just by looking at him…though his skin was not looking all that soft at the moment. His cheeks a bit sunken in…Arthur hoped Merlin wasn't getting sick. The prince would not excuse Merlin from doing his part and showing up to the signing tonight just because he had gone and caught something.

But…other then that…Arthur tilted his head further so he could look at the rest of him. Arthur supposed, if one did like other men, Merlin wasn't a horrific choice. Definitely not handsome in a classic way like Arthur was. Perhaps Merlin was a bit…odd looking, but perhaps other people would not find that as a bad thing. His cheekbones were a bit too high, and would have made a woman look as if she had done something to herself. But on Merlin, it did look more natural. More…elven like, though Arthur would hardly call the cheekbones on elves 'cute'. And all of that dark hair only made his pale skin stand out, which could be a good thing, but…his hair was more on the choppier side then Arthur would have preferred. Maybe if he got himself a half decent haircut…then Merlin would at least stand half of chance of looking like he belonged on the arm of a prince. He would probably blend in much better with the nobles that Arthur associated himself with on a daily basis if he tried a bit harder to 'look the part.' Then he wouldn't look so out of place in this meeting between royals.

And don't even get Arthur started on Merlin's eyes…they were a little too wide for his taste. Perhaps looking just a bit too big for his face? Or maybe it was just Arthur who was trying to find the worse feature he could. But no, his worse feature wasn't his eyes. Especially since the dark blue shade wasn't altogether horrible, it kinda made the prince remember the sky when it was starting to turn all dark. But hadn't reached black yet….the worse features Merlin seemed to have was his ears. The way they would stick out under all that dark hair, looked more like a large elephant's would. Arthur had never seen any set of ears quite like them before.

But anyway, the appearance put altogether…Merlin was hardly remarkable. The boy was too…delicate looking…to be proper man. All long limbs he was still growing into even in his late teens. By the time Arthur was nineteen, he had done developed a fine layer of muscle and had gotten the proper build from many years of learning the many different styles of fighting. Both with weapons and hand to hand if needed. Merlin hardly looked like he was strong enough to defend himself…it was probably why it was Arthur who always had to do it. Though, Arthur was able to vaguely admit again, there were a few moments where he wasn't totally useless. But nothing that King Bayard could have known about all the way back in the kingdom of Mercia…

Uther cleared his throat loudly, jolting Arthur back into what he was doing. The prince whipped his head to look away from his consort, meeting the pointed eyes of his father, and the smug look from Bayard. Arthur was able to feel the heat rising on the back of his neck when he remembered his father had just laid the next false line about Merlin on his feet, "Ah, yes! My consort…" and his voice got louder, cracking in a way that hadn't happened since his early teens. Beside him, Merlin blinked, slowly turning his head to look at Arthur when he heard his title being said.

The effect was honestly quite disturbing, as the consort looked less like a human being just turning around. And more like a puppet being played around with by a set of strings from some unknown puppeteer working out your movements from somewhere high above your head. But Arthur hardly seemed to notice the odd movement, busy scrambling his mind for something remarkable to say to the other king about his consort. Arthur supposed that he could have told King Bayard a few of the actual good things Merlin had been able to achieve…like discovering what the creature trying to destroy their entire city really was. But when Arthur opened his mouth, the exploit was not what he said.

"…quite lovely…" Arthur finished poorly, coping exactly what Bayard and Uther had just said. The King's eye was starting to twitch violently, and Arthur knew he hadn't managed to sound as in love as he should have been in front of the foreign king. Uther started casting glances in King Bayard's directly, clearly watching to try fleshing out what the other king was thinking about the prince's lackluster reply. Arthur cleared his throat, feeling a surge of panic go through him as he scrambled to fix the mess he may have just created. "What I meant to say is…there is far too much to say about my consort! I wouldn't want to possibly stand here and bore you with all the details to how…wonderful?…my consort is…"

Merlin wanted to say he deflated when he heard how Arthur had described him. Lovely? Wonderful? Those were bland words, that may have made Before Merlin, swoon. But After Merlin felt absolutely nothing. He knew better by now, then to expect anything other then what he was seeing. Those words may have nothing specific in them, bland words that could have been used when referred to everybody else on the planet, but they were exactly what Merlin would have expected from someone like Arthur. Somebody who didn't put any thought into what they were saying, somebody who wasn't at least creative enough to come up with a proper adjective that would show Arthur at least knew the bare minimum of who he had married.

"Oh, oh, you do not have to prove anything to me. Quiet yourself, young Arthur. I can see it with my own eyes as to what's really going on here." Bayard said, as he waved a dismissive hand in the air. Uther and Arthur both grew stiff, only their noble training preventing it from showing on their faces. And Merlin simply tilted his head, looking non-plussed by it all, wondering if Bayard really saw this charade for what it was. Or if he was just like everybody else, who simply allowed themselves to be awed by all they thought was the glamour of royalty, to bother with looking past the gold and glitz and see the marriage for what it really was. A lie. Bayard smiled quite kindly, but Merlin wasn't falling for it as the Mercia King turned to Prince Arthur. "You want to keep the boy all to yourself. I cannot daresay I blame you. I remember what it's like to be young and in love."

Yeah, that was actually something Merlin suspected was going to happen. Even Bayard, a great king that stood in his own right, was blind to the truth. He only saw all that they wanted him to see. Though, Merlin vaguely did not appreciate how Bayard made it seem as if Arthur wanted to 'keep him to himself'. Merlin was sure he did. But only so the prince wouldn't have to worry himself into having an early heart attack because he was too concerned by what Merlin was doing. Though really, by this point, the consort was no stranger to how all of this looked.

He knew exactly how 'he' looked. Merlin had heard all of it before from others who wanted to torment him just for existing. Those who made it their mission to make sure Merlin didn't forget how much of a 'wonder' if was that Arthur had ever fallen for him at all. Knew he was off in all the wrong places, knew he was too skinny, knew he was too alien looking…it made Merlin think Bayard was not as dumb as he sounded. And perhaps the king had been doing clever word play to taunt him with all of his inadequacies. Because how could anyone believe Arthur 'liked him' let alone "loved him.' Well, it was far better to have him know this now. Then find out later that his first impression of the other king was dead on.

"But I think it's really quite time for me to meet with your consort. How can peace be fostered if I haven't met with the entire royal family?" Bayard announced. Neither King nor Prince could hardly protest against that. It would be considered offensive to deny the king an audience with the consort. Besides, they both knew it was a very likely scenario that King Bayard would want to be introduced to Merlin properly. But before either of them could agree to introduce the king, Bayard was introducing himself to the consort. In a very unorthodox manner. "Hello, young Consort. I-" the king stepped forward, opening his arms out wide as if he was about to embrace Merlin, his way of welcoming the young consort into their ranks.

Several things happened at once: Uther Pendragon was left goggling at the mere idea of anybody willing to put hands on the other boy. Arthur stiffened, looking just as dumbstruck as his hand flew to the hilt of his sword only to realize there was nothing there. It wouldn't have been good to bring a weapon on his person for what had been peace talks. It would be showing that Arthur himself was not putting much stock in the peace treaty, which could have ruined the treaty before it had even started. And as for Merlin…the consort jolted, stepping back with horror and surprise stretched across his face, tripped over his own feet.

Merlin's mouth fell open in a silent gasp, landing harshly on the floor sprawled out. He could feel the vivid bruises forming on his elbows, the knights having backed up at his fall and doing nothing to help catch him. But the new marks hardly seemed to matter, his head whipping up to look at the three Royal's looming over him. Merlin's heart sky rocketed in his chest, and his skin turned a sheen of white. Merlin's eyes darted frantically from Uther to King Bayard, and finally landing on Arthur. Merlin felt as if he was a rat in a cage, or a fish in a bowl…stared at within a prison he couldn't escape from. His eyes darted to find a door but everybody was surrounding him, and he was not able to see it. Merlin's breath hitched, feeling it when his chest started to grow tight.

"I must apologize for my consort's actions." Arthur said in a rushed tone, being the first to get his bearings back over what happened. He tore his gaze away from Merlin and nodded his head in apology to King Bayard. "One of the things you should know about my consort is that he is quite easy to startle. But I'm sure now that he knows what you want, he will be able to turn down your request for a…hug?…more gracefully then he had just moments ago. I do apologize for having to ask this, but if you can be so kind as to give him a simple…moment to allow him to collect himself."

Arthur turned back to glare daggers at the consort at his feet, not believing how absolutely crazy the boy had just behaved. Bayard was going to believe Arthur had been a fool and married some kind of crazy person! And as the prince had already learned, there was not one thing that was actually wrong with Merlin's mind. If Merlin had this thing about Bayard's…odd form of greeting…he simply had to decline it. Done properly, it wouldn't have caused any kind of offense. But then again…the whole thing may had been avoided if Arthur had taken more then a single second to go over how Merlin should behave in front of the king. But surely Merlin knew throwing himself onto the floor in a fit was not the proper decorum for a noble consort to act.

Arthur cast a cautious glance at Bayard, just to be sure the other king stayed where he was. Merlin, the prince thought grudgingly as he returned his gaze back down to the boy just as fast, would obviously decline Bayard and his…hug. Arthur wasn't too comfortable with having Bayard touch his consort. The whole thing reminded him of Valiant a little too much for his own taste. A man who stood in a position of power, trying to assert whatever it was they wanted out of the weaker boy. Crap, Arthur felt his shoulders sag. It looked as if he was going to have to once again protect Merlin from his own stupidly. Only he couldn't stick a sword through Bayard's belly to be rid of the nuisance like he had Valiant. He would need to take matters into his own hand, and handle things with a far more…delicate…touch. As long as Bayard kept his hands to himself, Arthur wouldn't have to go back on his word and have Merlin isolated to Gaius' chambers with a good dozen knights to make sure he didn't escape again. Until Bayard had left the kingdom, at least. And no longer was posing a threat to the idiot boy. How Merlin could do all the things he had done, and yet still end up in situations like this would forever be a mystery to Arthur.

Seeing that Bayard wasn't going to budge any closer to them, the prince chanced returning his gaze back down onto his shell shocked consort. And then Arthur held his hand out, clearly expecting for Merlin to grab onto it so he could pull the consort back up to his feet. And try to fix the mess Merlin had gotten them into. The message was clear, Arthur thought, even a boy like Merlin had to see the way the prince was glaring at him. His face was carefully turned away from Bayard, so only Merlin could see the 'do not screw this up' that Arthur was practically screaming at him through his eyes.

Merlin looked down at the hand that had shoved it's way under his nose, and leaned back away from it. His hands started to twitch at his sides again, and Merlin definitely did not want to touch that hand. He didn't…he didn't…he …Merlin feared he was going to be sick. Before he could upchuck all over the prince's shoes, Merlin put his hands underneath him and shoved himself off the floor. Arthur looked affronted by this, almost offended that Merlin did not take his hand and put on the show that he wanted to for his royal guess. The prince's hand dropped uselessly by his side, (Arthur hadn't even realized he had brought it to where his sword was at first, convinced by instinct that Merlin may have seen something about the king he hadn't. Some kind of threat, until he had realized Merlin was only having one of his freak out sessions), and the consort stepped back further away from his threats.

Merlin's eyes darted frantically again between the three royals, he was sure his eyes were bulging out. His hands were tucked in front of him, clawing uselessly at his shirt as he panicked. His breathing was coming out a bit more faster than it had been before, and it felt as if he wasn't getting enough air down into his lungs as they squeezed together painfully. There was no exit that he was able to see, nowhere's that he could run and hide and get away from all of their accusing stares. Stares that felt like they were trying to peel the flesh from his bones, and see all the disgusting things they hated about him underneath the skin.

None of the royals seemed to notice that Merlin was in the midst of a forming panic attack, his breathing came out harsher and quicker now, almost wheezing. Actually, just thinking of being in a panic attack, of these people seeing him in a state that was so vulnerable and open, unable to hide or pretend that he was normal by being shut down completely…it seemed to make it worse. His head was spinning, and Merlin's eyes darted around all over again. Uther. Bayard. Arthur. Uther. Bayard. Arthur. Over and over and over again, until the faces seemed to merge almost into one face. And all the nobles seemed to care about was Merlin ruining the show they tried to put on for one another.

"No, no, no. You don't have to apologize one bit for any of this, young Arthur. It's not your fault in the least." The King of Mercia spoke up, deflecting Arthur's apology by waving around his hand. The sound of the voice caused Merlin's eyes to whip straight onto Bayard, and he could feel it when his breath froze painfully in his throat. Merlin felt his heart stopping in its chest, feeling as if it would burst due to the lack of oxygen getting too it. But Bayard was staring at him, and Merlin wanted him to stop, and he wanted to be able to breath normally, he didn't want to have to clench at the bottom of his shirt so that there would be no chance of others seeing his hands violently shaking. Vaguely, Merlin knew exactly what this was. It was the King who wanted Merlin to apologize for acting out. The King who didn't want Arthur to apologize for his behalf, making excuses for his consort. Bayard wanted to hear it from Merlin's own mouth, and Merlin's tongue felt too thick. As if it had grown and swelled at least two sizes bigger than what was normal. And…Bayard spoke again, "It was completely my fault. I am quite the hugger back home, but I should know better than to try and do that in another kingdom. Not everybody is comfortable with it as I am. I'm sure Uther remembers that quite well, don't you, Uther?"

Bayard turned to give Uther a cheeky smirk, reminding the other man of their first meeting as teens. When the Prince Bayard had swooped Uther up into a hug the very second they got their 'royal introductions' out of the way for their families. Uther had looked absolutely horrified by it back then, and he looked nonplused and thin lipped about it now. Clearly remembering their past the same as Bayard did, and didn't appreciate being reminded of those much simpler times. Arthur's jaw had dropped as he glanced between Uther and Bayard. He was finding it hard to imagine anybody having the gall to 'hug' his the King. And he found it even harder to imagine Bayard still had his head after doing it, and then to bring it back up in casual conversation…just who was this 'Bayard.'

"Now, if you don't mind me asking, and I hope that you'll forgive an old man if my memory is not working exactly as it should be." King Bayard said, turning back towards the consort. Merlin's fingers scrambled to clench harder on his clothes, yanking on the fabric and twisting it in his fingers again and again. But King Bayard didn't bring no attention to it, if he even noticed the obvious signs of an anxiety attack coming on. "But I do not recall rather or not the king here, put your name in the missive he sent my kingdom announcing your marriage to the prince."

Merlin's breath hitched again, his name…the king would want to know his name, of course. It wouldn't surprise Merlin to know Uther hadn't put his name into the letter or whatever he sent. He probably hasn't wanted word to get out about his son's betrothal to a peasant as fast as it obviously had. But his lack of titles placed in the letter would have been an obvious indicator. But…his name…it was something easy. Something he'd been saying for all these years. It was something he could do, and was not the worse thing the king could have asked from him. So why could he not get his vocal muscles to work? He was able to feel the twitching around in his throat, but when it came to getting the actual words out…nothing.

"I…my name…I'm…" Merlin managed to choke out, but the words got lost somewhere in translation. And King Bayard's eyebrows came together, looking confused by now. There was a harsh push right against the base of his spine-not from Arthur, but from one of the knights standing behind him-though it wasn't hard enough that he would fall onto the floor once again. "Merlin!" He felt like such a fool when he barely managed to get the word to leave his lips. This whole thing couldn't have possibly been more worse then it was, not unless he was spilling literal state secrets. "Merlin, I'm…Merlin…" the consort stuttered again, sounding more pitiful then he had the last time he said his name.

Merlin darted his eyes away from Bayard, unable to look at the other man and see how much of a failure he was reflecting back at him in the other man's eyes. But…his torment was not let over, because his eyes had landed on Arthur Pendragon. The blond prince was glaring at him, clearly recognizing how absolutely horrible all of it was going. Merlin could feel himself starting to shake, it was…it was horrid. Merlin grabbed onto one of his arms to try and stop it, the motion involuntary and there was nothing he could do to stop it. But Arthur was mouthing something to him, and it took far too long for the boy to recognize what he was saying, his eyes blurred from the unshed tears. 'Do it properly'.

Do it properly…do it properly…do it properly…the words felt as it they were trying to drum their way straight out of his skull. Pounding and aching and practically killing himself from the inside out. Do it properly…what did that mean…? Was there a proper way for spitting out a name in haste? He probably could have done it better if there wasn't this feeling of great pressure weighing down far heavier then it should be on his chest. But…Merlin had barely been able to say anything. And now…just like that, it felt as if Merlin had been hit by lightening as it hit him what Arthur was trying to force on him.

Merlin vaguely remembered a time all those weeks ago, a time that he had dismissed and thought of not being worth his time. It had been when Merlin had first walked in on Morris berating Gwen, screaming at her for a small matter like how she was folding Morgana's clothes. Such a stupid thing to get so angry about, and it was clearly nothing but Morris trying to play a power move over any other person who had been in his sights. But…when the manservant and him had been arguing over it, the other boy had been mocking him. Telling him that he probably didn't even know how to say his name properly. It really had been stupid, but clearly something expected from him now.

"I…my name…" Merlin stumbled through it all alone again as he scrambled his mind to try and remember what the manservant had said. But the weight on his chest almost seemed to grow heavier, and he was sure he couldn't be breathing but he had to be because he was still standing on his feet I, right? Somebody not breathing would have fallen over already, would they not. So logically, he knew he was still standing…but he also felt as if he was giving in and had taken flight. His mind floaty as the pieces of his conversation with Morris that day started escaping him. "I'm…"

Merlin pinched harshly at the fat of his wrist bone. Or it would have had fat on it, if Merlin hadn't been spending his time starving himself by denying himself food. It was on the wrist that was opposite from the one that he had already bloodied. The scabs would have torn right over if he had done this to them, and he would have bled on the floor in front of all of them. It was funny, how minds could be when somebody was panicking. Worrying over the simple things, instead of focusing on the big picture of it all. But…Merlin pinched harder on the skin, and was able to feel the weight on his chest starting to ease up a bit.

That was a good feeling, the short burst of pain coming at him through his skin…he did it again harder. And felt it was easier to breath, the pain was something Merlin was able to control. Something that Arthur Pendragon could not stop himself from doing, something his husband did not even bother to notice he was doing to himself. It was easier for him to think now and the pressure on his chest was starting to ease up. Arthur could strip him plenty, of his dignity and sense of self and who he was. Make him the living doll he wanted Merlin to be. But not even that prince, with all of his muscle and power and gold, could stop him from regaining just a bit of control he got from hurting himself.

"Merlin…My name is Merlin…Pendragon…" the name was spewing awkwardly from Merlin's mouth, sounding like a complete disaster. But Merlin was just grateful the name came out, the last name attached to his own only made Merlin ashamed to wear it. But he pinched again, before twisting the skin to make the pain a bit more, as he tried to somewhat copy what Morris had told him to say that day in Morgana's chambers. "And I am the…husband of …Arthur Pendragon, Prince of Camelot. I am…Consort…"

Merlin winced as the final word died off his lips, waiting for Bayard to ridicule him for not getting something like his introduction correct. He was sure that he had ended up screwing the entire thing up, like he seemed to screw up everything else. Merlin was pretty sure he had ended up butchering the way Morris had said it completely, and it would be a miracle if Merlin wasn't thrown out right on his backside. He wished he was, if only to get out of this situation. But he was sure he'd also feel worse about his own self, knowing he had failed something that should have been simple.

Bayard chortled again, and it was the kind of laugh that came straight from the belly. Merlin squeezed his eyes shut, and hunched his shoulders closer towards his ears because he just knew he was being made fun of again. It had to be a new record, Merlin thought idly. Merlin was being tormented almost daily by an entire kingdom, and now he was being tormented by somebody from another kingdom. How wide spread would his torment continue growing, how far would it extend until it finally came to a standstill? Mercia already felt as if it was stretching how far it would grow, but knowing his luck, his failures were going to be spread all over the five great kingdoms long before life finally did him in.

"No, no, no. You did excellent." Bayard said, waving one of his hands at Merlin, as if to tell him not to worry about it. Merlin carefully peeked out his eye, not entirely sure if he understood that. Excellent…him? Merlin had not ever heard that word be used to describe him before a day in his life. Clumsy. An oaf. Freak. Weirdo. Those would be the name Merlin was used too. Not…excellent. Merlin did not even know what to do with that one. "I've obviously been informed of your peasant background, and I'll only be able to imagine that this is probably your first official meeting with another royal, yes? We're a rare breed and do not get together as often as we should."

Merlin clenched his hand into a fist driven by his anxiety, and cautiously allowed both of his eyes to open before lowering his shoulders some. Bayard had sounded as if he had…understood…the plaits that Merlin was wading himself through. Maybe not everything of course, since it was impossible for Bayard to know that he felt as if he was drowning on a constant basis. But…he expected to have Merlin be clumsy and awkward during his first royal meeting, and didn't sound as if he minded being used as the Guinea pig to test him out. Unlike Arthur and Uther, who expected for him to get it right without any proper directions or mishaps.

…No. Merlin decided, pushing the train of thought as far down into his mind as he could possibly get it, content to let it rot and never see the light of day again. He had been down this road before, with Arthur. When the other boy had started showing Merlin his true colors-he had never really hid them, but Merlin had been too dumb and naive to see them as the warning they were-Merlin had practically jumped when Arthur had shown him a shred of human decency. But it had never lasted for long, and Arthur always returned to the abuser that he was, even if Merlin hadn't recognized it as abuse until it had grown too far to deny. Merlin couldn't make the same mistakes with Bayard. Though hopefully, he wouldn't have too, as Bayard would be leaving in a few days time. And exactly how often did Mercia travel to Camelot? Rarely, if King Bayard's last comment was anything to go by.

"I'm only sorry that this is our first meeting, during all of the chaos it takes to make the truce between Camelot's kingdom and Mercia, stay strong and standing." Bayard continued to speak, shaking his head as he let out this melancholy sigh. "I wasn't exactly invited to the wedding of the century," Bayard stopped here to give the king of Camelot a stern glare, and Merlin's head peeked up a bit more at somebody having the nerve to do that to Uther Pendragon. "But we would have done something big, as to welcome the fresh blood into our ranks. It's so rare to have somebody marry outside of those who were born a noble at the least."

Merlin winced once again, not entirely sure about what to make of Bayard now. Something big? Something that was even bigger then every noble within a simple ride to the castle showing up to attend his farce of a wedding in person. Only so they could have bragging rights and get to tell others that they had actually been there and were able to witness the 'magical day' for themselves. What a load of croak. And to what, 'welcome him' into the court of nobility? Merlin hadn't been welcomed ever since the tourney he refused to think about any longer. Merlin was almost too scared to find out what Bayard's 'bigger plan to welcome him' could have ended up entailed.

"Err, King Bayard." Arthur cut into the conversation, and it was quite rude but went overlooked. The prince flicked his gaze between Merlin and the king before settling his gaze on the king fully. He had seen his father glaring at him, telling him with his eyes to do something, and he'd been quick to react. Arthur didn't fault his father, as the prince also wants to put a stop to this conversation long before it could go to the point of no return. Merlin's fall had been dismissed-and the nerve of Merlin to not try and apologize himself, and making the other king try to take all the fault for it-but if Bayard wanted to talk more with Merlin, it would need to be in a more controlled sort of environment. Arthur knew Merlin's language problems better than anybody else. It was bad enough already as the consort spoke improperly at the best of times, but it would need to end before Merlin started slipping all kind of curse words in his sentences. "I do apologize if all this is sudden, but you have had a very long ride to get here. Perhaps you would like to retire to your rooms we've got prepared for you? I can call my manservant to act as an escort for you? Or I can even do it myself. I'm sure you'd like to rest before the festivities for tonight?"

While Arthur was busy trying to convince Bayard that he could leave and rest, freeing up some time for Arthur to fuss at Merlin for his little 'falling' trick, he never noticed Merlin shifting behind him. Merlin was…upset, for lack of a better word. Not disgusted, because he found he was only surprised that Arthur hadn't tried to interrupt them before. And he wasn't happy either about this get out of jail card Arthur was getting him, he wasn't even sure he knew what being happy meant anymore. It felt like eons since the last time Merlin had been truly happy. But the consort did find himself…agitated? Annoyed? That the prince was only trying to get Bayard to leave now. What exactly had Arthur been doing when Merlin had fallen to the floor? Where was Arthur when one of his own men had just shoved him in the back earlier? Where was the prince during each and every time Merlin had needed a bit of help from anybody, when his men spent their time tormenting him.

And now Arthur was helping him? For reasons that the consort could only assume were to really help himself, and not because he actually wanted to help Merlin at all. Well, if Arthur hadn't been willing to help him then, then Merlin definitely didn't need his help now. He could face Bayard, and answer his earlier statement, without having Arthur get in the middle of things. With his dirty clothes and his askew hand, the cuts from his nails on his wrist, and the bruises forming on his elbows from his fall. The Consort could…he could do things without Arthur. Even if it felt like it was the hardest thing in his life that he had ever done, forcing himself to wade his way through all of his depression like it was quicksand.

"I can assure you, King Bayard." Merlin started before he could talk himself out of this, his voice coming out a bit too thickly, but at least he was actually talking, instead of just stuttering about like a loon. Merlin ignored Arthur glaring at him, the feeling of those eyes on him making his insides quiver. He knew he was going to get hell for this later on, but he wasn't thinking about later. He only thought about now. "That nobody meant any disrespect towards you, or anybody else. The wedding was done at a hasty place, only people in the area were able to show up."

Arthur bit down harshly on his lip. Now that Merlin had spoken up, it was a bit too late for Arthur to completely shut him down. The king would surely know something was up if Arthur rebuffed his consort when things of that nature needed to be waited for a more private moment. It rankled Arthur's nerves, to hear Merlin talk so openly about all of this. What if King Bayard decided to ask why their marriage was done hastily? Or why Camelot had to do what no kingdom would, and not stretch out the time in their engagement for enough time to pass so that the other kings could arrive and witness the 'greatest event of the century' for themselves?

If…if Arthur hadn't already decided to shove every horrid and weird thought he'd had about Merlin to a place that would never see the light of day again, he would actually try to do something to the boy today. And if…if the other boy had the nerve to say things like 'there's more abuse then just hitting somebody' then Arthur would've gone out of his way and showed him hitting was the only thing in the world that could count as abuse. But only if that somebody didn't do something that deserved them to be hit, like Merlin had…all those fantasies about finally getting to spank or whip Merlin for his insubordination…he would make Merlin relish for the day where Arthur did none of those things…Arthur shook his head frantically as he caught himself again. Right, those were thoughts he wasn't supposed to allow to surface anymore. After nearly spanking Merlin that day in his chambers, when the consort had been trying to explain the beast to him, he knew things had gone too far. Even if it still tempted him like crazy afterwards, and even now, it sometimes liked to plague on him…

"Ah, yes, of course. I completely understand. It does happen sometimes, and love just can't wait until every other royal can join in with the celebrations." Spoke the king, letting out another loud chuckle. Before he gave a loud sigh, bringing his hands up to rest on either side of his hips. "But I admit, I do regret not being able to see it happening. A wedding between two males are so rare, it would have been nice to be able to sit down and enjoy a new age being ushered into the next generation. I know for sure, that my ex lover would have enjoyed it. He did always love a good event."