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!

109. Chapter 109

Arthur couldn't remember a single instance in the three months he'd known Merlin, that he'd been hesitant with touching him. He was usually a lot more assertive about it, putting his hands on Merlin as freely as he would have touched himself. A push to the side here, a grip tight on his wrist to keep his attention. A shove on his hips to try stopping Merlin from uselessly bucking him off. Putting a hand on his shoulder from behind when needing more attention from him. Using his body to bracket Merlin into place, confusing the boy purposely to drag answers out of him when necessary…and those were only a few brief instances Arthur could think of. Where he would be free to do what he liked, when he liked…as he liked. He knew there were a thousand more instances where Arthur had done what he wanted too in the moment.

But times were changing, and gone were the days where Arthur felt confident enough to put his hands anywhere near Merlin. There was a cold itch along the back of his neck that wouldn't go away, no matter how much Arthur would absentmindedly reach up and scratch at it. It was an itch underneath his skin that his nails could not reach too. It had been far too easy when Arthur had thought of only the simple things: times where he wished he would have the chance to someday bend Merlin over his knee and give him the good lashing he had clearly missed out on during his childhood. Times where Merlin chained to the foot of his bed was a new normal in his mind, lashes marking along his back and ribcage to show how good it was that Arthur had disciplined him proper. Out of sight from others as Arthur took care of him the only way that made sense. Times where it wasn't odd for Merlin to be stripped bare before his eyes, because only those who'd been good consorts were allowed proper clothing to be used. But Arthur had set those thoughts aside, forced it out of mind after he had nearly taken things into the real world, and tried to smack Merlin on his backside for real.

And now, Arthur had imagined himself pressing a harsh kiss on Merlin's slacked lips. Had imagined pressing his tongue so far down the other boy's throat, Merlin would have had trouble breathing in anything that wouldn't be Arthur's own scent. Not allowing the boy to escape from his grasp if he tried something stupid like shoving away from him…it had became too much. Arthur had gone too far with his thoughts, allowed his fantasies to go into the direction he had never planned. And his stomach started coiling up with disgust again, at the memory.

Arthur found he was able to dismiss all the fantasies he had of tying Merlin up, and finally bending to his will and seeing how far he could push him before he finally broke him down. Those fantasies had always been an outlet to Arthur, a way of giving him relief when he was stuck with his worse moods because of Merlin. They'd always been looked at with a disciplinary mindset. Even when Arthur knew his thoughts could have easily been misconstrued in the wrong way, he had known the truth and that's the only thing that mattered. But this whole kissing thing…it had a different edge to it that Arthur didn't particularly care for. Or perhaps that was too less of a reaction.

It was disgusting.

It was unsettling.

It was horrifying.

It was…Arthur could not think of the words to describe just how awful it had been within his mind.

Even when Arthur knew it'd only been because he was confused, trying to figure out how a guy like Bayard-or any other man-would find it exciting to press kisses into the lips of another man didn't help comfort him any. The prince knew he had gone too far with that fantasy, fallen too deep into a mindset he shouldn't have had. It should have never happened, and yet…Arthur had allowed it too by not controlling his own thoughts. Arthur should have seen where it was heading, and should've taken proper measures to banish it from his mind before it had gotten as far as it had.

If his father had known what had just happened…Arthur would not even be here to tell how horrifying his mindset had been. His father would have flayed him alive. Even if Arthur had explained it was simply for Arthur to expand his education…try to figure out what had gone wrong in the minds of men who preferred the company of others like them, rather then women. There had been no reason for Arthur to entertain the idea in any way. It was wrong and disgusting, and that was all there was too it. Just as his father had taught him with one of his many rants the few times they dined together.

But now…Merlin was standing in front of him, innocent as he always was because he didn't know all the horrific thoughts that would flood Arthur's mind. And Arthur had jerked his hand away from Merlin just as the other did to him. The second Arthur's fingertips had touched along

Merlin's wrist…the way the electricity seemed to jump at Arthur like a spark, flooding throughout his body like he had never felt before. Arthur didn't know what it was, or what it meant…but it made him anxious like he had never felt before. Jittery, almost. As if Arthur had just drunken far more mead then he should have, and it was about to leave him bouncing off the walls. Or standing on tables to try dancing in a provocative way that a prince should never be seen doing…behaving like a commoner. It left a heated drop of sweat to burn and sizzle along the frozen skin along the back of his neck as it slid and vanished to somewhere under his shirt.

Arthur dropped his hand lifelessly by his side, and it was wrong but…his eyes kept dropping down to the sucking of Merlin's lips. And it was still wrong, knowing he had a part inside of him that wanted to pry Merlin's bottom lip out from between his teeth. To save it from withstanding anymore damage that Merlin was trying to impose upon it. It wasn't the lip's fault that it was attached to Merlin's body. But at the same time…it was attached on his body, and Arthur should not be looking at it at all. Let along be imagining reaching out, being able to cup that jawline in his fingertips. And using his thumb to pop it out before it could be ruined forever…

Arthur forced his eyes away from the lip, feigning being nonchalant even as he resisted the urge to act without thinking. He wanted Merlin to stop, knowing bruises was sure to mark the flesh, and when they both had to go to the celebrations tonight looking their best…bruises were one thing that would ruin their act. And while Arthur did know he could be quick about it-one simple pop would be enough to pop the lip out-Arthur didn't want to risk it by putting his hands on…inappropriate, parts of Merlin's body. Parts like the lips…the hips…the thighs…would the chest on a man also be considered intimate like one of a woman?…the question for the ages, Arthur decided.

Odds were, it wouldn't escalate to such measures since Arthur was aware he couldn't go throwing Merlin around if he couldn't keep his hands to himself-he did end with Merlin thrown over his desk, prepared to smack him on his backside that one time-but…this wasn't a risk Arthur wanted to take. He could let Merlin continue sucking on his lip…at least until he could get a better handle on his own issues. Issues that apparently involved looking right at Merlin's lips…Arthur cursed inwardly when he realized he had started staring again. Stupid Merlin…doing what it was he did to poison the minds of men like him…there was no reasonable explanation Arthur could give for why Merlin sucking on his lip was as aggravating to him as it was.

Arthur cleared his throat, it sounded rough and gravely as he once again looked away from Merlin's lips, "I don't suppose I can trust you to do a simple task for me. I will walk you back to your chambers, and have a little talk to your manservant about what needs to be worn if you are to attend the events for tonight. This little…get up…that you like to wea may have been cute the first time, and it is definitely an eye catcher, but that's not what we need to go for here. We need to at least have you look like you know what you are doing."

Arthur wanted to put the whole 'I really did lie to you, so I wouldn't have to actually talk about sodomy' to the far back of their minds. To move onto the next topic of their discussion-because Arthur refused to call this moment as one of their arguments, when it was only him telling Merlin how everything he did inside of those chambers had been wrong. And make Merlin forget he'd ever been bold enough to ask Arthur such a horrid question in the first place. Besides, Merlin's dressing really should have been enforced ages before it had gotten as bad as this. Attending a meeting with a king in peasant scrubs…this may as well have been Merlin's attempt at ruining what his father's been working towards. Bayard might have a wondering eye, but he wasn't sensitive. Any other king would have been insulted, before rescinded their entire treaty on account of this. And this time, it wasn't going to be Arthur trying to wrestle that dang neckerchief off his neck. Hopefully George would have better luck with convincing Merlin that there was a time and place to be wearing a neckerchief. Arthur couldn't think of any right now-they were terribly out of fashion-but a celebration wasn't the time or place to be trying to make a fashion statement.

"I do believe that three months has been enough time to give you to adjust to our ways." Arthur said, watching as Merlin's eyes started to widen, the blue in them growing as they did. "But this has started to get ridiculous. If you cannot be dressed proper tonight, then I will have to talk about getting you a new manservant. One that knows to dress a consort specifically, for certain events. I will say, the whole grace period I've been gracefully giving to you this entire time…has officially ended."

Arthur watched as Merlin's bottom lip popped out for a final time, and he looked away when he wondered again …just how could any self-respecting guy, would want to kiss lips that were bitten raw. Thank god Arthur wouldn't be like that…not now, not ever. But the lips were hardly a problem Arthur needed to keep being focused on. Three months on a grace period really was pushing things with Merlin. A grace period was a time in a person's life after an important life changing event was a given, but it was also a time that had to end. A woman mourning the loss of her husband got a month on mourning before she be expected to return to her day to day duties. Perhaps a woman lost a child…that would usually afford them two months of being grace, and left to mourn in her room as she continued to be taken care of by servants. But being married into a different social standing's…a month would have been pushing it. But three? It was time for things to be a bit more serious around here.

"Do you…" Merlin was hesitant to speak up, knowing he had already been yelled at once by wasting the precious time Arthur was holding onto. But when Arthur did not a thing more the lift his eyebrow in a wide arch across his forehead, the consort hesitantly lowered the arm he had cradled against his chest. He would have to speak up, as Arthur was going to get a very huge surprise if he would see the state of Merlin's room if he really did try walking him back. Good god…Arthur in his room…Merlin had his stomach lurch, but he peddled through it to ask Arthur a simple question. "Are you taking about George?"

Was it possible, Merlin slowly considered as his fingers were twitching anxiously at his side, that Arthur was so out of touch with Merlin, that he didn't realize Merlin no longer had a manservant trying to wait on him hand and foot? George had been giving him more anxiety back in the days where he wasn't experiencing it nearly as bad as it had developed by today's time. It had been a month ago-over a month-and Merlin had yet to regret making a decision like that. Probably one of the few things during his time in Camelot that he didn't regret. There had only been so many mornings Merlin could handle George as he tried stripping him, so he could dress him. There had been only so many days Merlin could wonder rather the manservant would end up stumbling across his magical reading tome, since George liked to spend his days with obsessively cleaning after Merlin. There'd been only so many nights where Merlin would have to kick George out as the man attempted to help him into bed, and insist on staying with him until he had fallen asleep, so he would be there in case Merlin needed something. It had been hard enough falling asleep in the large bed with normal circumstances, yet along with somebody staring down at him the entire time.

Hell, before Merlin had gotten so depressed he wouldn't get out of bed, he'd even done his own cleaning. One of the many things 'royals' would not be allowed to do. But he hadn't cared one bit, and almost seemed to relish in it. The rhythmic motion of ducking his dirty clothes into the wash bucket in the corner of his room, made it feel as if he was back home and doing laundry. Even if he'd also cheated a bit by having his magic dance out to take care of the rest of the room. Rags moving along the flat surfaces to get rid of the dust, his sheets being shaken out before replaced on the bed, his clothes flying inside his little wardrobe even if he knew they wouldn't stay in there for long. It had still been nice to be able to see his floor, even if it only lasted for a day or so before Merlin ripped his clothes out of his closet to try picking which of his three shirts should be worn today.

Arthur looked at him as if he thought Merlin had to be the stupidest person alive, and the consort immediately turned his eyes back to the floor as his stomach started to clench tightly. "Of course I bloody well mean George!" The prince started yelling, and Merlin squeezed his eyes shut as tightly as he could, trying to imagine he was far away from this place. Perhaps with his mother, with the smell of her potato soup-Merlin's favorite, even if it was more broth then potato-wavering under his nose as the soup started to boil on top of the fire. Sitting at their old and rickety table as it wobbled while they ate…the blond prince in front of him screamed louder as if he knew that Merlin had stopped listening to him. "Who else would I'd be meaning? George is your bloody manservant, or is he not?"

Arthur had said this final line very sarcastically, as if he thought Merlin was so dumb that Merlin didn't know he had been being served by George all this time. And the consort's heart clenched just as tightly as his stomach had been, because that was right. He was stupid. Only, he wasn't stupid because he didn't know who George was. He was stupid because, well…he was stupid. Arthur always said so, why bother saying something so many times if he didn't think it was true. And walking among nobles day in and day out, Merlin could understand just how pitiful he might be in comparison. The consort took a slow breath, exhaling through his mouth to try-and he also failed-to calm himself, as he opened his eyes just a bit. Enough for him to be able to see the prince's shoes through his eyelashes.

"He's not, my manservant, I mean." Merlin said quietly, so softly he wasn't even sure Arthur would have been able to hear him. But the prince raised his head a little bit higher, and his brows came together in the center of his forehead. Hehad obviously heard Merlin, but he also didn't know what he was talking about. Merlin took just a second to clear his throat, and was anxiously starting to wring his hands together-because Merlin was sure there was some unspoken rule that said royals needed to have a personal manservant, about to be revealed to him from Arthur. "I fired George a while back. I didn't need to have a servant back then. There was no reason for George to keep following me around if I don't need him. I'm sure he could have put his services to somewhere that would be more useful then I was…" Merlin's eyes darted away from Arthur's shoes so that he could speak to the floor itself in a far lower tone, that had Arthur's ears straining to be able to hear it, "I still don't need a servant."

Arthur still didn't look as if he understood what exactly, Merlin was telling him. Arthur hadn't gone a single day in his life without having a manservant to wait on him. Not since he was ten years old, and his father had decided it was time to switch from a nanny. Arthur had felt as if he was on the brink of being an adult back then. Now that he was an actual adult, Arthur knew how stupid that ten year old him had been. But ten years have passed since that day, and honestly…Arthur didn't know how it was a possibility that Merlin…didn't want a manservant of his own? Arthur simply wouldn't know what to do without a manservant of his own to command. He had such a hard life as prince, things that needed to get done, it had only made sense for nobles to have their own servants do all the things that were simply below him. It was the way of their world. Unless…

Arthur felt a pulse of renewed anger going through him, the kind of anger he had reserved for Knight Valiant and King Bayard. Nobles who had gotten too comfortable by their stations, and thought they could have anything that they wanted. Even if what they wanted was a night with another man's consort. Arthur hadn't considered for one second, the possibility of the servants behaving just the same. Servants who'd had free access to Merlin…and it was this servant in-particular, would have had the most access to Merlin. Undressing him…hands lingering along parts not even Arthur-his husband-would ever see. The anger Arthur felt, knowing a servant thought they could abuse the gifted position they had been given, had been trusted with…was almost indescribable. It made perfect sense within Arthur's mind. What had George done that had made Merlin fire him…because nobody Arthur knew would have forgone a servant unless they had done one truly unforgivable thing. And even then, the servant was going to be replaced immediately by one that was more competent.

"What did he do to you?" Arthur asked the consort, and he could see Merlin's brows coming together, like he did not answer the question. But to Arthur, it would've been the simplest answer in the world. All Merlin had to do to get Arthur on board, was tell him what George had done to him. Arthur didn't care if it was the smallest infraction possible, if George had done anything that had made his consort uncomfortable, made him unsure and confused and not knowing what was going on…Arthur would drop everything he had to do and track the servant down. He would be in the dungeons before the hour was up, and it would end with him on the execution's chopping block in a day's time. And that was only if Arthur didn't decide to …speed things up without the proper channels. And the prince had every right to take care of threats toward his consort in anyway he demanded. But Merlin hadn't said a word, and Arthur got a bit more aggressive, as he spat out a loud bark, "What. Did. He. Do. To. You!"

Arthur watched as Merlin flinched back, and fell firmly against the wall behind him, but he hardly cared. All he could see was Merlin-stupid, innocent Merlin-being in his royal chambers. And George, the man assigned to Merlin and given top recommendations from the head steward and quartermaster that handled where all the servants would be working at, taking advantage of it. It was not hard to picture, Merlin could have said anything that would have clued George in on just how innocent he was. Hell, George may have even figured out this had to mean Arthur and Merlin had never…consummated, and it what? Was information George decided to keep…all the servants were expected to keep up a level of discretion with their master's habits. But perhaps George meant to use this as a form of blackmail? Should Arthur ever find out what he had done to his consort…a bold move for a servant, thinking they could blackmail a prince. He was obviously going to have to take care of George if that's the case.

God, George had better hope that Merlin had fired him before he could do anything more…pressing. Arthur was just pissed enough, that he would make sure the servant lived long enough to feel every torturous strike with the blade being wielded by Arthur's hand. Make him feel as scared as he was sure Merlin probably felt before Arthur skinned him alive. He would have 'thought' Merlin knew to come to him with these things after Valiant had tried to kiss him, because one thing could lead to another and Merlin could have ended up on his back with his naked legs thrown over somebody's shoulders…fuck. It looked as if Arthur really would have to start handcuffing Merlin to his wrist to stop people from getting too close to the boy.

…Arthur was gonna have to find a proper servant for the boy, and stand in the room as the servant did his duties to scare the servant into knowing that nothing should be happening as long as Merlin was in his care. Stand there in the corner of the room he would, behaving like he was some kind of stalker as the servant was dressing Merlin of washing Merlin's back as he bathed, or…perhaps the prince should just instruct a female servant to take care of Merlin's servant needs. A woman was decidedly less dangerous then a man, having all that free access with his consort. Anything to make Arthur stop imagining the action George could have done to make Merlin fire him…

Merlin standing in the center of his room as George had been peeling the dirty clothes he'd worn all day, a piece of cloth dropping onto the floor at their feet as each one came off. George being professional, behaving like one's servant should be…until he pushed Merlin's pants down his hips…and there were two options George could have gone for once they were gone. Had George reached up, around to the front and tried taking Merlin…and his most private male part into hand, stroking down the flesh? Did Merlin gas in shock, staring down at the hand encircling him? Or had George reached behind, and tried pushing his fingers into a hole that should never be touched, had Merlin gasp as his hole fluttered around the intrusion on his body? Either way, it didn't matter. George would die. Arthur only needed to know, so he knew just how far he should extend his torture. Besides, Arthur didn't know if he would be able to get down to business, and get what he needed done before the celebrations tonight, if it was stuck in his mind for hours and hours. Unable to drift off to sleep even, if he had the constant question 'what if' in his mind, his imagination probably making things feel far worse then what had actually happened.

"Nothing, nothing! He didn't do anything to me!" Merlin exclaimed, voice high pitched and sounding almost like a strangled dog as he lifted his hands to shake them as frantically as he was his head. But his hands acted as if they were about to start trembling all over again under the force of Arthur's powerful stare. So, Merlin dropped them, and tucked his hands behind his back where they would be allowed to tremble without being scrutinized by the prince. "I just really don't need a manservant…his talents were better off somewhere else. I didn't need to have one!"

Merlin didn't want to see Arthur's rage be unleashed on somebody like George…he really didn't understand any single thing about the prince, did he? One minute, Merlin was being yelled at as if he had just caused the world to end, the kind of yelling that left him trembling inside the wake of it, and wanting nothing more then to disappear into the happy place in his mind-scape. And then he had to suffer through Arthur yelling like this…Arthur probably wanted to make sure his 'toy' hadn't been damaged, but Arthur had always had an edge to him whenever he was yelling like this. An edge to it that Merlin may have liked, if the prince hadn't already ruined everything for him.

Arthur…who was staring at him darkly, eyes narrowed in on him as if he was trying to read his very soul. And the consort shivered under his gaze, clenching his fists and unclenching them behind the safety of his back. It didn't look as if Arthur was going to believe him about George, Merlin realized-but when did Arthur ever believe him at just his word, without some kind of fight or protest when Merlin had still been dumb enough to try talking sense in him-when the prince arched his eyebrow high above his forehead. "You are telling me…that you fired…a perfectly good manservant, because you…didn't want him? That's really the story you're going with?"

Arthur's voice was dry and sarcastic, but Merlin nodded his head eagerly, more eager then he had been anytime these last few weeks. Merlin 'needed' to know he hadn't just sent one of Arthur's rampage moods onto the other serving boy. George may have been as boring as hell, he may have have a little 'too' into his job and kept insisting Merlin was consort and should be treated like one when Merlin tried asking for a friend. But the manservant had also helped him a lot during those first few weeks, with giving him advice and teaching him how things worked in Camelot. And sure, nothing he had learned turned out to be something he needed, but…Merlin's incompetence to do the simplest task was hardly George's fault. Merlin may have fired George, but he would never been able to forgive himself if George had to endure Arthur for even a single minute.

Merlin was used to Arthur's mood swings, and the near violent temper he had when Merlin got too mouthy with him. He wouldn't wish five minutes of Arthur's rage on another human being. Especially not one that was one of the few that hadn't done him wrong. Merlin would have thought George would have more reasons then anybody to hate him, since Merlin had given him a real reason to join in on his bullying by firing him. But George was one hell of a professional, and the few times he had passed the man in the hall, the manservant had bowed down to him before scurrying away to complete whatever he had been given as his new duties.

Arthur let out this slow and steady breath, his face going all scrunched up as if he was in pain. And then the blond prince was reaching up, and pinched along the bridge of his nose, "Merlin, I am trying to very hard to show you a bit of patience, but time is short and I fear what little I do have is waning." Merlin went tense immediately, the fear flooding his system into overdrive and etching itself onto his features. His heartbeat skyrocketed inside of his ribs …'this' was patient?' Merlin knew what would happen to him next if Arthur didn't believe him. He knew the blond prince was going to grab him, his hands digging into his upper arms painfully. Arthur would probably shake him around, and either yell in his face or get into his personal space depending on his mood. Would probably wrestle him onto the ground, and force him down if Merlin didn't give him the answers he liked. The prince brought down his hand, and Merlin followed it with his eyes anxiously, "So, I am going to ask you this one more time. And I will expect you to give me a proper answer. What made you decide to fire George?"

There was a touch of warning in Arthur's harsh voice, it made Merlin suck in the air harshly though his mouth. It …he needed to think, he needed to do something, Merlin thought almost frantically, knowing this would be ending in either one of two ways: Merlin on his backside as the prince hovered over him, pinning him down as he tried to smother Merlin with his larger weight. Or the prince would be storming down the hall to punish George for a thing he hadn't done. Merlin knew all about what it was like to be unfairly punished. George didn't deserve it…he didn't. Not like Merlin did for being this incompetent and complete failure at life.

Merlin threw his head down into a semblance of a bow, and squeezed his eyes shut so that he wasn't staring at the prince's shoes, "I swear to you, Arthur! George really didn't do anything for me to fire him! He was really nice to me, I just…" Merlin wondered if he should be bringing up Arthur's role in his decision to fire George. The blond prince had said something to him earlier that same day that had upset him…something like…how he'd started to get too comfortable with his life as consort? Because he had spoken out of turn again…? Merlin didn't like it when he thought back to those days, or any other day he had been stuck in this city. Merlin had already been thinking of trying to find a way to get rid of George, but Arthur's comment had only made it happen faster. But in the end, Merlin decided not too. Knowing Arthur would deny any role he had, and probably try gaslighting him just to get Merlin to start doubting his own memories. The consort squeezed his eyes tighter, forcing the wetness within his eyes to clump up his eyelashes, "I was honest, when I'd told you I just don't need a manservant. I don't have any reason for one. I can…I can do my own cleaning, and I've gotten my own food, and I…"

All of the things Merlin had listen, were things that most normal peasants did on a daily basis, from the moment they were big enough to contribute to the household. It didn't mean anything to Arthur though, when Merlin got brave enough to glance up through his eyelashes, only to see the prince's face turning this unhealthy shade of puce. Merlin winced and slammed his mouth shut, and quickly looked back down at the floor, having gotten to a desperate level, that he'd stay in a bowed over position. Merlin had forgotten that for a consort, those were some things that should never be done. And the fact that the consort had been doing them on his own for quite some time-Arthur obvious to the fact-marked another reason for why he was a failure as not just a consort, but also as a person

"Are you…are you seriously telling me the truth right now …you didn't 'want' a manservant. Am I hearing this right, Merlin?" Arthur's voice was carefully contained, and he sounded as if he was trying to rein in his temper. Merlin could feel the heated gaze of the prince on the nape of his neck, and it only made Merlin tremble, knowing that Arthur was two seconds away from snapping. Merlin had never known Arthur to not give into his temped when it came to him, but…at least Arthur would be too focused on Merlin to bother with George. The consort had to be able to find some kind of comfort in that…right. But true enough, Arthur's temper roared it's angry head when he took a step back from Merlin. The consort froze, and all of his breath escaped from his lungs. He couldn't enjoy the distance Arthur had given them, before his husband was reaching up to grab a fistful of his blond hair with a harsh grip, "FUCK!"

Arthur's shout seemed to have echoed down throughout the empty hallway, and it left Merlin's trembling to grow worse, but Arthur hadn't noticed. Just like how the man had hardly noticed Merlin bowing over. It was strange…it was stranger more how much Arthur had liked it when it had first happened. Because Merlin should be bowed to him, showing him all the reverence that everybody else in the kingdom did. But the pounding in his ears when all the blood rushed through his head stopped Arthur from realizing how…wrong…and off…it was to see the consort putting himself into a position that was below the blond prince. Not the lively Merlin he knew, who'd rather bite off his own tongue then show Arthur any bit of grace.

"Now this is another thing I have to do!" Arthur started to scream as his frustration reached its peek. Arthur was almost surprised that spittle wasn't flying off his lips and splattering Merlin across the face. He had wasted much of his time on 'protecting Merlin' from a…manservant of all people, when there had been nothing there. George hadn't been trying to grope Merlin, he hadn't slid fingers into places not even the sun should touch, he had most definitely not forced the consort onto his knees in front of him and making Merlin suckle on a piece of hard flesh that as far as Arthur was concerned, should not even be existing in front of Merlin. Arthur had allowed himself to fall off the deep end, at some point, when Merlin and his safety came into play. Where he was ready to take away the head of some innocent sap if Merlin even eluded to something having happened between them. "You heard my father when we forced arrived into the entrance hall. You cannot show up to the celebrations tonight without being properly outfitted. And now, I don't even have that manservant around to make sure that you are. I'm gonna have to drag your arse down to Madame Teresa's, and if we are lucky, perhaps she'll have something that will be able to properly fit that scrawny body of yours!"

Arthur supposed he could have just stormed down and saw the quartermaster to get a replacement servant for the boy, somebody who would be able to dress him with proper clothing for the affairs happening tonight. Maybe an outfit not even his father would be able to find fault in it. But something like that would take far too long for the prince to deal with at the moment, and not something he thought his headache count take. It was obvious, that he had to take care of some thing's more personally. It was not like George, in the month he had been working with Merlin, had managed to outfit the boy even once. It had to be because of Merlin, and his refusals to do anything the right way. So, why would Arthur trust another one to be able to do the job? Right before the most important event to happen since their wedding?

He wouldn't, Arthur realized, feeling as if this information was crashing down on him like a hammer to the head would have. He wouldn't be able to trust Merlin around something as simple and as common-to the nobles-as a servant. After thinking George had done something inappropriate towards the boy-if not outright rape (because once again, the blond prince was hit with the question, could it still be considered anything but rape if Merlin agreed, but didn't know enough to consent properly)-he was still feeling a bit raw about the situation. There was no chance Arthur could have gone and talked with the quartermaster about sending Merlin another servant, and then just walked away. Leaving them alone, so that the new servant could peel the clothes away from that boy of his…

For all Arthur knew, this new servant would have ended up being an 'actual' predator, willing to take Merlin's innocence and the boy not even realize it until it was too late. The last time-when Merlin had first arrived-and Arthur needed to get him a servant, the quartermaster had recommended George as their best servant who didn't have any kind of permanent placement as of yet. Arthur had simply agreed with it, what was there for him to argue about? George would take care of Merlin, and Arthur could do what he did best-pretending Merlin didn't exist. But that couldn't happen this time. There was no chance of Arthur just tossing the first servant given to him at his consort. No, if Arthur bothered to force Merlin to have another servant-rather that end up being George or somebody else-they would need to be vetoed by him. They would need references and background checks, and need to be interviewed by him personally.

…Arthur's one no-nonsense requirement might be making sure they are straight. Just so he could be sure nothing was going to be going on behind closed doors. Arthur couldn't do his work, if he wasn't confident Merlin wasn't being bent over a desk somewhere.

The consort in question, swallowed hard past the lump that had been throbbing-going up and down in his throat as if he had food that wouldn't go down properly-and brought both of his arms closer towards his body. Trying to hide just how 'scrawny' he was, as Arthur had called him. Merlin couldn't remember a time he had felt as subconscious about his own body as he was now, knowing his scrawny limbs would not ever be able to measure up to the biceps Arthur carried with him everywhere he went. "I'm sorry!" The consort blurted to the prince, not even knowing why he was apologizing, but it was something he knew he needed to do. To get on Arthur's good side, to be freed from him, to…Merlin ducked his head back down as the excuses flew off his lips. "I didn't realize I was invited to what's happening tonight. I mean, you didn't say anything to me about it-" Merlin realize this sounded too much as if he was blaming Arthur for it, and he quickly tried to correct himself. "You don't have too, of course! I just…I'd not realized I was supposed to be going. And then you went and mentioned me and Bayard could talk more at the party, I didn't think you mean literally. I thought you were just…"

There were many things Merlin had thought during those moments, but actually going to the party hadn't been one of them. Why would Merlin think he would be invited back into one of those? The last party Merlin had gone too, had been after the tourney had finished, and everybody was wanting to celebrate Arthur's victory over Valiant. That was also the first time Arthur had ditched him to go and be with Clarissa, but it definitely hadn't been the last. Merlin had assumed his 'husband' would make some kind of excuse for his absence at the last minute. Maybe say he was sick or something, had came down with a sudden burst of flu and he would now be confined to his chambers until it had pass. Never in Merlin's wildest dreams had he thought Arthur was serious with him going to the party. But the way Arthur talked, seeing he was so mad at him…it was clear Merlin was expected to attend a event. And the consort could feel the surge of panic when it started building up in his chest, screaming at him to just run as fast away as he could. To not stop until he had managed to reach Ealdor. Before Arthur could dress him up and make him his Living Doll all over again.

"Of course, because you never think when it comes to the things like this! Things I actually expect for you to do, you only get yourself involved when I don't expect you too. But the second I require your presence somewhere, you'd what? Did you expect to sit in your room all night while I went out there and handled everything by myself?" Arthur demanded in a harsh way, bringing a hand up and tapping violently on his own temple, indicating how slow he thought the other boy's brain function was. But Arthur couldn't help the rage that suddenly flowed through his body, the sound of Bayard coming off of Merlin's lips reminding him why he needed to keep such close tabs on the boy, and it was setting his teeth on edge. It might not be George that was a threat but Arthur knew that Bayard definitely was. "If I have to go out there to sit in front of Bayard and listen to his speeches and toasts and all that is going to happen at the celebrations tonight, then you can sure bet that you will be right there with me!"

Arthur was adamant about Merlin not missing this event that was happening tonight, where he would be able to watch all the interactions Bayard and Merlin had with a close eye. The king wouldn't dare say anything improper with Arthur being present and near. Arthur wouldn't even allow a conversation to form at all, if he could get away with it without his father's strict eye looming over them. But…the prince's face went all scrunched up when he saw Merlin still had his head tucked down. While it had been amazing to see the first time, when more and more moments past and Merlin had barely looked up at all…it started to irritate Arthur. This was not the Merlin he knew. This was the weird, quiet Merlin, that while it's fun to see him being subdued for once…it wasn't as amazing as it had been when it seemed to drag on.

Merlin…who once again, only nodded meekly, without daring to say another word against the matter. Merlin knew he was only here to fulfill his duty, at least until they realized he was far more trouble then he was work. Because, he should have known better then to tell Arthur what he'd been thinking of…a living doll wasn't allowed to think. A living doll would never be allowed to talk, or explain or thoughts, or tell the prince a single thing that was floating through his mind. His thoughts weren't important, were nothing more then trash that would be thrown away. His thoughts didn't help anything. Like the prince had said, nobody had died yet, and Merlin seemed to only have anything worth saying when somebody had been grievously injured.

And still, the seconds passed them by without either one of them saying a word. The air grew stale around them, and it caused both of them to have intense reactions. Merlin was shrinking into himself, trembling like a leaf and waiting with baited breath for Arthur's next move. And Arthur…his teeth were set on edge again. Arthur could hardly stand to look at the boy when he was in one of these moods, and the longer the silence prevailed, the more irritated he became. Until he had nothing holding him back, and Arthur bloody Pendragon lashed out against the one man who could have loved him.

With his faults, and all.

"Now, I want you to get out of my sight!" Arthur screamed at him loudly, throwing out his hands. He 'needed' to force the consort out of his sight, before his old urges reared its ugly head again. Merlin needed to go, before Arthur said 'fuck it' to the wind, and threw the other boy over his knees. Maybe that would have gotten some squeals out of Merlin, instead of this…whatever this was…that Arthur was only just starting to notice more seriously. "And quickly! Because I swear, you just standing here is somehow going to make more work fall into my lap the longer that I keep talking to you!"

Merlin sucked in a hurried breath, and realized that this was finally the chance he was waiting for. His chance to escape …it didn't matter that Merlin's throat felt clogged up with all of the pent up frustrations he had, knowing he would never be good enough…the consort took off running. He ran down the hall as fast as he could, not stopping to look back at the prince he had left behind. There was nothing he would want to see if it involved Arthur Bloody Pendragon. Merlin needed to only get out of this stiffening hallway, the sounds that his boots made as each footfall slapped against the floor being the only thing that accompanied his escape.

"Yes, you better keep on running!" Arthur shouted after the fleeing consort, sneering in disgust. Because Merlin always seemed to be running away from something. He tried to run when they had first met, but had stopped and tried to prove himself by throwing a punch at Arthur. He had tried to run to anyplace other then Arthur's room when the prince started screaming at him to leave, right after that first failed council meeting with his father against Valiant. Only to return, and try convincing Arthur not to fight. He had tried to run when Arthur had first arrested Gwen, but he had returned with all these ridiculous ideas on how to get her free. The point was …Merlin was always running away. And when he returned-he always returned-it would usually end up accompanied with something that was actually useful. Hopefully, when Merlin returned to him, he would say something that didn't end up pissing Arthur off. "Maybe if you keep running, you'll finally return being able to do one of the few useful things you can do!"

But Merlin didn't see this as a compliment, as he vanished around the corner like some kind of skittish rabbit. He only saw it as the noise tightening further around his throat, as he was reminded this wouldn't be the last time he saw the prince today. He still had to come back, and put on a pretty show for Bayard and all his men, and hopefully not ruin the relationship Camelot had with Mercia, as he had ruined the people's goodwill towards him-if there had ever been any to begin with. There would be no crawling into his bed, trying to pretend his latest interaction with Arthur hadn't actually happened, no use pretending it had all only been inside his head. There was no use pretending that any minute, Hunith-his mother-would be bursting down his door and telling him it was time to get back to work down in the fields. No use to pretend the last three months had been nothing but one big nightmare after the other.

Merlin's breathing became more ragged, racing around the corner of a second hallway, trying to escape from anything that reminded him of Arthur. Which was next to impossible in his own castle…a thought stuck out to Merlin as he nearly tripped over his own feet when he raced around into a third hallway. Call it stupid or silly for Merlin thinking of this right now, but…he really had been lied to about marriage. All the childhood stories his mother had told him, fairytales where everybody ended with a happily ever after…they had never really been about the couple in the story finally finding their happiness together. Those stories had only been a way for his mother to make the world feel a little less scary, then all the horrors Merlin had endured to survive a childhood as a sorcerer. But, those stories had only ever been that…stories. And now, Merlin didn't have stories as a source of comfort to him when the night seemed endless, and the only thing he had was the soft and soothing voice of his mother…

His boots pounding on the cobblestone was his only sound now, and he was running and running and running with his lungs feeling too tight to breath, and…maybe if Merlin kept on running, things would look better on the other side. Just maybe, if he kept running…Merlin would be able to escape the future he had laid out directly in front of him.

X

If only Merlin-who fled from the hall-and Arthur-who'd went storming in the opposite direction, knew they had a witness to the tail end of their fight. If only they knew of the downfall that was about to hit them because of this witness. Maybe if they knew Knight Markus had entered the hall, and watched as the two of them disappeared into opposite directions, the biggest betrayal of their marriage could have been avoided. If Merlin knew the knight that had once grabbed him, before shaking him around just because the consort had refused to stop what he was doing and fetch him food as if he was just a servant boy…had concocted a little plan of his own, maybe he would've known to avoid going out in the open. Maybe if Arthur knew his best friend was about to cause him to make the biggest mistake of his life…he would have known that he needed new friends years before he would finally learn what had really happened this day.

But as the fates would have it, neither boy knew what was about to happen. Merlin didn't know he was running toward the beginning of his end, and Arthur didn't know he had just walked into a trap. Merlin didn't know that his breaking point was about to hit, and Arthur didn't know he was going to be the cause of it. Merlin didn't know…anything. And the prince didn't know he was going to have to live with the guilt of the things he was going to say and do…for the rest of his life. It was going to be quite some time, before Arthur learned that his former friend was behind it all.

How was either of them to know, during this very moment, Knight Markus-with devilish intentions in mind-had flagged down the first servant girl he saw just now entering the hall. How were they to know this servant girl-a girl named Julia from the washing rooms, who had a thing for rumors and a love for spreading gossip-would listen to Markus with eager ears. How were they to know that Markus was whispering all kinds of falsehoods into her ears, and how would either boy know Julia would start grinning with excitement. How would either of them know within the hour, the rumors Markus had told her would already be spreading like a wildfire along the entire castle.

How was either boy to know…that everything was about to change.

X

It would be ten minutes after Arthur had stormed off, that he realized he had told the boy to go. The same boy he'd been half planning on handcuffing himself too, just to make sure he couldn't wonder across Bayard on his own. And it would be fifteen minutes later that Arthur would all but kick down the doors to Gaius chambers, with every intention of forcing Merlin to come to his rooms with him. The boy could sit on the floor and stare at the wall for all he cared, while Arthur sat at his desk and worked on the speech he was supposed to give, welcoming the kingdom of Mercia into their trusted circle. Merlin, Arthur was insisted on, would be remaining by his side for the days to come. No matter how irritating it was when he was quiet, moreso then when he was spitting fire at Arthur.

He didn't know this was a speech he would never get to say, as unfortunate events happened, centered around his young consort.

He didn't know Merlin would not be standing by his side for far longer then Bayard's stay in the kingdom.

He didn't know his entire world, and everything he thought he knew, was going to turn upside down that very night.

He didn't know that tonight's events…would awaken a fear in him he had never known before.

He didn't know…tonight's events would soon be causing him to publicly defy his father, without shame, for the first time in his entire life.

But, what Arthur did know…when he got to Gaius' chamber…there was nobody there.

X

Merlin had found an adamant hiding place in the one place he thought nobody would find him. A closet. It was cramped and dark, and had items upon items stacked and overfilling the small space among the shelves. Large crated had been pushed along the walls, but Merlin hadn't touched them to see what were in them. Nor had he tried touching the large brown sacks stacked against the other wall beside him. But he was pretty sure the foul smell emitting all around him the second he had entered the closet was coming from them. It was stiff and heavy, cloying up the air in the closet, but all of the smell was the least of Merlin's problems.

For one thing, he wasn't even sure where he was. He'd been blinded by his tears, and his panic, and his fleeing to get the semblance of freedom that he craved…until he couldn't do it anymore and had ducked into the first room he had saw with his aching feet and heaving breath. Henceforth: the closet…it could have been in a deserted part of the castle. Or it may have been in the most populated for all he knew, there could have been people walking in and out as they passed right on by the little space he had sought shelter in. The little space Merlin had declared for his own, where he had subsequently fell into…Merlin didn't think it was a full on panic attack. The attack could have been more anxiety induced…Merlin could vaguely recall coming across the term in one of those books he would still from Gaius. He could remember because after reading the symptoms and signs of it, it had sounded similar to his panic attacks.

Even though it was probably the wrong call, Merlin had been avoiding reading anything that had to do with panic attacks. He had used reading as an escape, a way to forget about all of the things that had been happening outside. And learning more about his panic attacks-what caused them, or figuring out what triggered them, or more effective ways to calm him down if they struck him again and he was alone-would have been doing anything but forgetting the world outside. Since as far as Merlin was able to tell, it was Arthur that triggered them. The very first panic attack he had, had been because he had just been told he was marrying Arthur. And then he'd had that second one right after he'd first witnessed the King sending that man to his execution…and Merlin was sure that it was only a matter of time before Arthur would be standing on that balcony, and ordering him to be executed. And then he'd had one again in his room, that Gaius had to calm him down with…right after Gwen had been arrested. And Arthur had told him there was nothing he could do to help her. The consort was sure there were others, but those had been the main three he couldn't get out of his head.

Merlin was pretty sure he had been in this closet for at least a couple of hours, though it certainly didn't feel that long. It had to have been in mid-afternoon though, Merlin's morning having been nothing but hectic. The first hour of being kept in his self-imposed captivity had involved Merlin submitting to his anxiety attack. He had been sobbing, tears racing the way down his cheeks as he held his hands tightly along his mouth to muffle the sounds he was making. But he had still been heaving, struggling to breathe, his entire body started to tremble now that Merlin didn't have to struggle to hide it under Arthur's heavy gaze. He hadn't been able to think far pass trying to force his lungs to expand and allow for more air to flood his system. But that had only seemed to make it worse, his anxiety kicking up a notch as the foul odor in the air worsened his symptoms. Making it harder for him to take a breath, though he didn't dare leave the room for fear that he'd be taken by surprise should anybody come across him in such a state. God forbid his worse tormentors try taking a chance like this to really hurt him, when he had trouble just climbing back to his feet.

Somewhere, in the back of his mind, Merlin knew that it was probably stupid and he was overreacting. This whole Arthur confrontation he had just had, wasn't even the worse out of all the fights he'd had with Arthur as of yet. But…Merlin was fearing he was finally starting to tip over the edge. That cliff he had been clinging onto by just his fingertips for all these months…he could feel his grip on it starting to slide. He was able to feel the rocks as they started to crumble underneath his grip, and one wrong move was going to cause him to fly, careening into the pounding waters of a too small river that he could barely see. And had no idea if it would catch him in its safe abyss, or leave him to drown underneath those large and powerful waves. Merlin didn't know how he would ever be able to survive another confrontation with Arthur. Didn't know how he was going to be able to make it through what they were doing tonight…

But all things, eventually, have to come to an end. At some point, Merlin's breathing became a bit easier. His lungs had loosened up so it didn't feel as though he was breathing his air in through a small hole. His tears had stopped flooding in his eyes, while leaving his cheeks feeling stained and sticky and wet. But he was pretty sure he only stopped the crying because there was nothing left inside of him to spare, not a tear wanting to come back out. He had used all of them up on Arthur. And even with all of it gone from of his system, it still left him with feeling hard and hollow on the inside. He'd became use to feeling hollow, but nowadays, there was this certain emptiness right where his heart should have been. It never seemed to go away, trying to eat the rest of him from the inside out.

Merlin still didn't leave his closest, spending the next hour or so huddled within the stinky safe space he had claimed as his own. He had dried his face off the best that he could, a brief hiccup or two escaping him every now and then, but it was better then the full on sobbing he'd been doing when he had first entered the closet. At some point…Merlin had to admit that he just didn't want to leave the closet. The place was small, and Merlin had to tuck his knees underneath his chin just to be able to fit. It stunk to high heaven, and would have made anybody start dry heaving the second the odor had reached them, but it was still better then having Arthur be so close, Merlin could smell him. Maybe if he managed to stay hiding in his closet for long enough, people would start to forget he existed. He wouldn't have to leave. He wouldn't have to attend the party, and pretend he was happy with the lifeless smile he was expected to wear to please the King of the evening. And he wouldn't have to dress in whatever the prince was going to scrounge up for him. The only thing the consort would have to do was…live here for the duration of his miserable life.

It wouldn't be so bad, Merlin thought, glancing around the cramped space. Despite it being filled to the brim, he could see a coating of dust on most things, indicating the closet probably wasn't used much. He could probably hide out in here forever, if he really wanted too. It would be difficult to find food…he could probably survive by eating the wrapping on some items if he really had too. And he'd survived barely any food before, and he could probably live off of the bare minimum he had. He would never see the sunlight again, but when Merlin was comparing it with also never seeing Arthur again…it seemed like such a small matter to complain about.

But actually staying in his closet was nothing more then the 'pipe dream that never was'. And at some point, somebody had to find him. And that somebody would get one hell of a surprise when they pulled open the door, and Merlin let out a startled gasp. He had been leaning against the door, as it was probably the clearest place in the entire closet, until the door had been pulled right from behind him. And the young sorcerer fell backwards, rolling onto the ground with enough force that dust who was who knows how old, kicked up into the air. Merlin coughed and coughed, feeling the dirt getting stuck to the insides of his throat. The dust clung to his face, sticking to the dry and rough patches left behind by his tear tracks. His elbows ached from new bruises forming on them when he tried to catch himself, sprawling out across the dirt floor in front of a pair of feet.

"Merlin, what on earth are you doing in there!" The familiar voice of his uncle rung out, and Merlin glanced up beadily to see through the dust haze. He had to tilt his head backward to see properly from his position on the floor, and it took the consort a second to see through the dust when it dispersed in the air. And true enough, his Uncle Gaius was standing up above him. Looking down at him with a raised eyebrow, as if he was trying to figure out what was going on for himself. It was humiliating, Merlin realized as warmth flooded his face when he noted what a sight he probably looked. "Why have you taken shelter in a closet? Surely, you know you could've returned home once your walk was done. I didn't mean you needed to stay gone the entire day when I kicked you out of our chambers."

Merlin rolled until he landed on his knees, and scrambled to his feet. The consort brought his arm up, and used his crook of his elbow to dry off any of the lingering wetness that had been left behind from his freak out. Merlin was able to feel a steady gaze on him, and when he looked up, his uncle wore a thunderous expression. The physician could see the harsh redness encircling his eyes, could see the dirty clothes that had certainly not been dirty-Gaius had made sure he wore a clean outfit-when he had left that morning. But the old man also didn't say a word about it, though Merlin could see that he was biting his tongue to demand who'd been making the consort cry. Gaius had already told him-back when they had went looking for herbs and flowers before the physician had taken Merlin to the water supply where they would later find the monster that would attack them-that he would be there to listen if Merlin ever wanted to talk. And though the older man had cleaned him up, checked on him constantly even if he had other patients to get too, and made sure he always had access to food on the rare occasion the urge to eat may strike him, he hadn't pressed for Merlin to talk about a thing that was going on in his life. He would be there when Merlin needed him, but he wouldn't pressure Merlin before he was ready to admit everything.

Merlin could feel the wave of gratefulness and gratitude as it crashed onto him. He knew he wouldn't have been able to speak about it, not without falling into another fit. He wasn't ready to talk about it, because talking about it would also be one step away from Merlin having to admit just how dark his world had gotten. Everything seemed to be in muted shades of despair, the colors darkening and draining from his life as his soul feel deeper into the pits. Merlin was sure the people closest to him could guess, he hadn't exactly been hiding it from anybody. But people seeing what was standing in front of them, and having the guts to actually talk about it, for the depression to be out in the open like that…leaving Merlin to be vulnerable on a whole new level…that was two different things entirely.

Merlin cleared his throat-because damn, he really was just a big over emotional mess-and tried to make his rough voice sound a bit more normal, and not like he had just endured a massive anxiety attack, "What am I doing…? I think a better question would be why you are opening closet doors out of nowhere." And Gaius' eyebrow arched even higher up along his forehead, as if he knew very well that Merlin was trying to get the attention off of him. Merlin coughed, and tried to do this one more time, because he was normal. Completely normal…and normal people didn't go on about how exactly they suffered from anxiety/panic attacks that could show up at any second of the day. "I mean…maybe you and I are here for the exact same reason. I was just…looking for something I dropped…and it rolled under the closet door. But I cannot seem to find it…"

Merlin tried to play at subtlety when he raised his arm to do one more sweep across his face with the crook of his elbow, sniffling louder then he would have liked. He was pretty sure he could feel the liters bruises of red outlining the bottom of his eyes, but he ignored that-it wasn't as if there was a thing he could do about it. And cast a look back into the closet, as if he was really scanning the floor for something he could've dropped. Perhaps a coin, that rolled underneath the crack it had between the cobblestone floor and the door itself? Any peasant worth their salt, would know the lengths somebody would go through in order to find even a single dropped coin among the clutter. And consort or not, Merlin's childhood as a peasant would have some habits ingrained into him. Like a desperation to find one's money, when it could mean rather or not one got to eat that night.

"No, I haven't dropped anything, nor was I opening random closets with the hopes of finding my wayward nephew in the midst of one." Gaius said, in a stern voice. Merlin moved his shoulders up automatically, so that they were hunched high to his ears. It was obvious that Gaius hadn't believed a word of Merlin's ploy. But…the aged physician seemed willing and played along with ignoring the larger issues that both knew were lingering underneath the surface. "This," the physician continued as he nodded his head towards the closet. "Place is one of the many closets scattered around the castle. One of the many extra storage spaces for my supplies. If we get attacked, or the kingdom is invaded, the castle itself will be the biggest stronghold we have to protect us. But there will also be every chance that there'll be parts of the castle that we will not be able to get to, including my quarters. If a day comes that the kingdom is invaded, that's a good reason to assume there will be injuries or casualties. It's best for us to be prepare, even if it's very unlikely to actually happen. The kingdom hasn't been invaded for many years, Camelot has made quite a reputation for itself over the years. But it, and many others like it, are there. Just in case our safety is ever endangered."

Merlin turned his eyes back onto the closet, looking inside of the dark abyss with new eyes. One of Gaius' closets…he could see it now. Some of the items cluttering many of the selves looked vaguely like some of the tools Merlin's seen inside of Gaius' own chambers. Among his medical supplies, and equipment. And Merlin would bet the clothes off of his back that there were even more tools-probably tools more complicated then what he was seeing out-hidden inside of the crates. Though, he couldn't begin to understand what it was that Gaius needed of those foul smelling bags that had been keeping Merlin company during his fit.

But…Merlin suppressed a shiver at the idea of the kingdom being invaded. It probably wouldn't be any worse for Merlin then what the people who already lived here were giving to him. He could quite easily see himself being left out, thrown to the wolves or forgotten about entirely, if he happened to be outside the castle walls when they attacked. The doors to the safety of the castle being slammed in his face so the enemy could get rid of Camelot's Unwanted Consort without the crown of Camelot themselves having to lift a finger to do it. And then there was this closet…this dirty and cramped up space…supposedly a beacon of hope and safety for those in the crossfires of battle. An added safeguard that could quite possibly save lives that would have died if the closets hadn't been set up. In a strange way, Merlin thought…the closet of the physician had already done it's job. It had protected the consort, who had just escaped from a brutal battle, and had to be healed.

And sure, maybe the closet hadn't actually healed him. The consort was far too raw and vulnerable to be healed anytime soon, especially from tools that he hadn't touched, or tools that couldn't dig into his brain and scoop out all of the parts that kept him miserable: like knowing for a fact that his own husband wouldn't waste his time on making sure Merlin was okay if the kingdom did happen to be attacked. But it was a space that had still offered him sanctuary, and gave him one spot where he was able to suffer through his anxiety without becoming a spectacle for the unfortunate fool that would be coming across him. And really, giving Merlin the privacy that he needed, when he was living in a world where everyone he came across thought they had some sort of right to say one thing about his life, well…that was about as good as any gift Merlin could hope to receive nowadays.

"But as for right now, I was hoping to find something that I'll need for a few experiments that I'm working on." And Merlin perked his head up, because that was absolutely perfect. A real reason to keep him distracted, and pretend Arthur was not going to come looking for him in only a few hours time when the party was starting. He could pretend he was only in Camelot, the role as the physician's assistant his own, as it would be far better and more satisfying then his role being consort could have ever been. And so, Merlin watched when his uncle stepped into the closet, grudgingly putting and of the questions he might have about Merlin and what could've happened to him, to the back of his mind. Gaius glanced up, and all around in the space, before he finally found what he was looking for. His face brightening up whenever his gaze finally landed on it. "Ah! I knew I still had some sitting back in here. It'll be far easier to use this, then to try finding more that is fresher."

Merlin peered around the old man's shoulder, not able to help himself from wanting to know what it is. And Merlin'a nose immediately wrinkled when he saw Gaius was eyeing one of those foul smelling bags that Merlin may as well have been cuddling with during his two hour stay deep inside the closet. And in those two hours, Merlin had never bothered-or even felt the urge to bother, considering he'd been trying to calm himself down for most of his time in there-to open it up and find out what was inside. All he knew was that it was foul smelling, and not even the bag itself was able to keep it contained inside. Merlin could only imagine what horrors his uncle could have been keeping inside of it, for it to stink like it was. Why, it smelled worse then horse manure did! And as Merlin would sometimes get stuck with cleaning out the one horse pen they had back in Ealdor, he would like to think he was familiar enough with the smell to recognize it.

Gaius stepped fully into the closet, and grunted as he was bending over to grab a corner of the bag sitting on top, and gave it a sharp yank. But the bag barely moved two inches, it was far too heavy for Gaius to be able to pull it out proper, let alone for Gaius to be able to carry it all the way back into his chambers without a fuss. But that was probably why the physician now had Merlin under his care-even if it was care that should have been passed over from his mother's grasp to his husband's the second they married. The old physician looked over his shoulder to Merlin who had just stood there and watched him struggle, "Well, come and give an old man some help! I need you to throw this bag over your shoulder and get it down into my chambers. Lots of work to do with it before I need to clean up for thr celebrations tonight."

Merlin jolted, a sense of dread pooling into the deep pits of his stomach when he heard Gaius casually mentioning that party he was expected to attend. But though it killed him to not ask, the consort did what he was asked first. He hurried into the closet-grateful that there was at least something he could be useful for. It might not be to pick out decoration or entertaining noble guests visiting the castle, but at least the sorcerer could still do this. Could still feel the burning inside of his weak muscles from a day of hard labor, could feel the exhaustion after knowing he had finished a job well done. It was at least something, that Merlin still had going for him.

Merlin bent down and grabbed onto the same corner of the bag that Gaius had, grunting as he started dragging the bag up his body, bracing his shoulder against it. It was probably a bit easier for him, due to his youth. But the lack of food he had been consuming had made his muscles weaker and far more brittle. It was startling just how much effort it took him to drag the sack over his shoulder, lifting it with his knees to get it situated properly. And all the while, his face was being uncomfortably smashed against it, the foul smell coming off of it was even more apparent now that he had it so close. It was the kind of stink that would permeate through the sack and stain his clothes with it so badly, he would never find a way to get the smell out. Merlin found that he was almost too scared to ask Gaius what in the world he needed a thing for, and what kind of experiments would call for it.

Gaius held the door open for him, so that it wouldn't slam in Merlin's face as he stumbled out of the room, being forced to walk awkwardly in order to not drop the sack. Already, he could feel the burning in his leg muscles from the strain that it took to carry it. Once again, Merlin was forced with having to acknowledge how different his body had changed since it had came to Camelot. How different 'he was' since he'd first entered the city. But Merlin didn't bring any attention to it as his uncle shut the door behind him, and started to lead them down the hall in the direction of his chambers. It would have been the last thing Merlin wanted, to give his uncle another reason to cast worried looks at him over his shoulder. A bag over the shoulder should not have been causing Merlin that much strain. Not if he'd been like he was before he'd came to this city.

"…So…" Merlin said slowly, when they had been silent after walking through several halls, as the consort finally got the nerve to speak up what was lingering around in the back of his mind. This was probably the first time Merlin had been the one to initiate a conversation in a long time, having got used to staying quiet until somebody approached him, and forced him to speak. Which was exactly why Gaius turned to give Merlin his full attention, taking any opportunity he was able too, to encourage Merlin back into his old self. "You will …this party that's happening tonight. You said that you were going to be there?"

Merlin's voice had been carefully contained, and he kept his eyes trained off somewhere to the side, as if he didn't care about his uncle's answer either way. But Merlin's ears were straining, focusing intensely on not missing a word of what his uncle had told him. But considering Merlin wasn't going about being a conversationalist nowadays, it wasn't too hard for Gaius to figure out how important this had to be if Merlin was asking about it. So, Gaius nodded his head firmly just to indicate that yes, he would definitely be attending the feast/celebrations they would be having that night.

"As an esteemed member of the council, and a trusted man among Uther's court, its expected for me to attend. There's a few things I've managed to talk my way out of attending to every single event or party or celebration Camelot manages to throw. Camelot does have a thing for announcing all that is happening to mark the occasion." Gaius explained to the consort with a simple flippant wave of his hand. It was most obvious that Gaius shared Merlin's sentiments about having to attend things because it was their duty too. The physician was far past the times of his youth, where he wanted to take his entire night and dedicated it to making mistakes people did with the folly of youth and high spirits were involved. But he wouldn't mind Merlin making some mistakes-funny ones that could be laughed about with embarrassment come the morning's light-as being young was the time to make those stupid mistakes. "But there are still a few hours left before I have to concern myself with preparing for the evening. So I have decided to spend it doing some of my experiments I've got in the works. A physician's work is never done, and I am constantly looking for new ways to improve what medicine I already have on hand. It doesn't always work, of course, but there are new things to be discovered everyday. Even if I do prefer the methods I learned during my own appren

That sounded…fascinating, to Merlin. His interest peeking at the idea of finding new and undiscovered ways to be able to treat an injured person with. But considering Merlin had yet to get pass anything other then reading books, being able to actually help somebody with his own two hands was nothing but a vague interest that would never actually happen. So, it was something Merlin shoved into the back of his mind, and instead allowed himself to feel the relief flooding throughout his system. It was so rare, that he was able to feel anything other then depressed or panicked, so Merlin would take the little bit that he was able to get his hands on. His uncle was going to be at the party tonight. His uncle would be going to the exact same party that Merlin was being forced to attend as a prop. His uncle was going to be in the same room as he was…Merlin wouldn't be alone. Forced to stare around at all of the unfriendly faces that continued to scrutinize him until they could find and pick apart any flaw he would happen to show tonight. And knowing himself as he did…Merlin would be sure to show thousands of them before they'd even got to the dinner portion of the evening.

"And what about you, Merlin? Will you be returning back to our chambers with me, I could always use an assistant with some of my more volatile experiments. But perhaps you may enjoy taking a walk somewhere…more fitting then inside the castle. Perhaps a walk across the grounds, or you could try looking at what is going on down in the marketplace? Money or not, one can still have fun looking about the stalls-" Gaius said in a carefully contained tone. He had wanted things to work out with Merlin, which was why he had sent him on his way in the first place. But considering he'd found Merlin in a closet, things had not gone as he had hoped. If there was a part of Merlin that actually wanted to go out-which he would have to doubt since he had been the one to force Merlin to go in the first place-then he would support it. But the uncle inside of him only wanted to insist that Merlin came home to be with him. The boy had clearly had enough, for one day, a day that wasn't even over yet. So, if Merlin choose to come home with him…then Gaius wouldn't try forcing him to leave again. It had been a bad choice, on his part. "The decision, I believe Merlin, is entirely your own, of course."

Merlin looked away, grunting as he readjusted the bag on his shoulder to balance the weight out more evenly on him so he wouldn't tip over. This…was almost the opportunity he had been waiting for. Merlin didn't really get to decide what to do nowadays, he had everything chosen for him. Or more likely…Merlin never got the chance to decide things without being looked down on. Because he had chosen plenty over the last morning, dishes and silverware and whatever else it was that he had shoved in his face. But what kind of life was it, if Merlin's only contribution to the world was rather or not his plates matched the drapes he decided to go with…what Gaius was giving him was a choice. To go or not to go…that wasn't anything life changing or really important in the long run…but it was important to Merlin. And that would have to be the only thing that mattered.

And god, did Merlin just want to keep following Gaius until they reached their home-their's, as Gaius had called it, not just his any longer-and never leave again. Merlin did need to recover from his anxiety attack, even now he could still feel the after effects wearing down on him. His hands would get a spasm in them every now and then, forcing Merlin to hold tighter onto the bag as to not spill, and to hopefully not drag any attention to it. His back was sticky with sweat that only seemed to worsen, a fresh coat starting to drip down in the dip of his spine under the weight of the bag. As well as the never ending fear that something was going to happen-like hyper vigilance-like a crushing weight on his chest that had to make him wonder rather or not he was about to live with one more anxiety attack on his record.

And it would be so easy to agree with Gaius, that it would be best for him to come home. It was right there, hovering onto the tip of his tongue. And yet…it didn't come out. Merlin was not going to be able to crawl into his bed, and stare down at his wall while the hours drifted away until Arthur showed up to get him for the party. Nor could he go about his day, and pretend that everything was normal by doing experiments to god knows what with his uncle. Because Merlin would never be a normal boy. And there was something that he wanted to do…something Merlin knew he had to do, that would be taking precedence over what he wanted to do. Merlin didn't know if he was going to be able to make it back out once he retired to Gaius' chambers. The morning had already taken so much out of him, and then knowing what he would have to endure tonight…Merlin knew if he didn't do this right now, since he was already out and about…he probably was never going too.

"Actually, Uncle Gaius, there was…something that I wanted to do." Merlin said slowly, trying to test the waters as he felt his legs starting to tremble even more under the heaviness of the bag. Merlin didn't know how well-received his request was going to be. If it had been Uther or Arthur he'd gone to for help, the answer would have been a hard no. But Merlin would also never go to them. Gaius, on the other hand…this would be a good way to see just how far Gaius was going to go to help him. A good way to find out what Merlin himself was about to do…and Gaius simply nodded his head, giving Merlin an encouraging look to finish. "I want to send a letter to my mother!"

Merlin's voice had came out rushed, as if he feared Gaius would turn him down right away. Merlin could actually see Gaius having to work through what he had just said, since his words had all ended up blended together. But when the physician was able to put together what Merlin was saying, the consort could see the surprise written across the other man's face. Merlin held his breath, knowing that it wouldn't bode well for him if this was something Gaius would end up being again. Merlin supposed he didn't technically need the other man's permission, but having Gaius' help would make things much easier for Merlin.

There was simply too many things Merlin didn't know how to do around here, and one of those things would include how to send a letter. Back home in Ealdor, everybody seemed to either live or die in the village. Whole families…nobody ever really left, so there was never any reason to send letters to somebody on the outside. Though, there was also nobody in the village who could have done it, as the one horse owned by the entire village was used for farming. Not for riding. As far as their contact with the other villagers were, it was only once every few months. Where everybody pooled together their coins so that one man could hike for two weeks to the next village, before returning with the supplies they needed to survive through the summer months. Merlin had not ever had to send a letter, so he wasn't sure how he could get any person to deliver one out to Ealdor. Strangers just didn't go out that far, and Merlin wasn't even sure if any of the riders in Camelot-men who would ride out on horseback to deliver all manner of letters across the country-would be willing to deliver one for him.

Even if Merlin managed to scrounge up enough coin to pay the man to go out of his way, there was just a lot of backlash that came when helping him. Merlin wasn't even able to look at the shops half the time without the store owners turning him away from their product. He had somehow managed to get an added reputation as a 'cheapskate' because he was not spending the king's gold on whatever useless item they tried shoving into his face. But at least they weren't trying to con him into buying their wares anymore, with all of the gold apparently at his disposal, which was a new change in pace, Merlin thought sardonically.

"A letter to your mother…to Hunith." Gaius said in this slow tone of voice, staring off into space somewhere ahead of them. Merlin bit down on his lip again, something he'd been prone to doing as of late. And he could feel the steady, and thick weight of parchment crinkling around on the inside of his jacket pocket. It was the letter he had written to his mom all those weeks ago, the one he had written after he'd finally returned to his room after seeing Gwen when she was being released from jail. The false one, where Merlin had wrote to his mother about all the fun he had been having, about how great of a husband Arthur turned out to be how, how he was having the time of his life…pretty much every lie Merlin had been able to stomach putting down in writing. All things that would give his mother no reason to worry about him. He had been walking around with it in his pocket, just something he had that was a tangible reminder of his mother. But if Merlin had the opportunity to be able to send it…then he would be glad to part with it. Even if he didn't hear back from her…at least Merlin would leave her with the impression that he was alright. "…I do believe that there is a Runner stationed down in the marketplace. Knight Erick, I believe, would be the one you want to find. He's the one that delivers letters outside of the kingdom. Will probably even do it cheap since Ealdor is found right on the boarder."

It took Merlin a few moment's to realize what Gaius had just said, and the consort whipped around to look at his uncle in excitement. Or what passed for excitement for Merlin these days. Merlin hadn't known what people would say about him trying to contact the people from his old life. Merlin was half sure that he didn't want to send the letter at all, Uther's very subtle threat towards his family ringing in his ears. He didn't have any idea what Uther would do…he seemed to want it to be like Merlin had just popped out of thin air. With no history or past or life that had came before became the Consort of Camelot. But if Merlin did this carefully…then Uther was not ever going to have to know Merlin was trying to contact the outside world.

And now, Merlin had a name he could go by…Erick. That was the name of the man that would get him in contact with his mother again. It was a nice name, a strong name…and it was also probably the name of a total arse. Merlin knew that the people chosen to be runners-delivering important missives or documents from the king across the kingdom-were very important people, who kept the entire kingdom connected to the main city. But there were also runners that were right underneath them, runners that delivered letters from other people on personal matters. Family members who lived out of the city, or friends that may have moved away but were beloved enough to still keep contact with. Runners that left the actual kingdom though, were probably the fastest in all the land. And therefore, the most important. And as Merlin had learned during his months in Camelot, important people rarely gave non-important people the time of day. Though, if Merlin was lucky, maybe this 'Erick' guy, had been out of the kingdom for three months and hadn't already developed his own opinion on Merlin, decided by the rumors spreading all across the land about him. It was a long shot that would be the case, but, well…Merlin didn't want to say he could hope it was. He had learned already, that hoping did nothing to fix things. He just knew it would be easier to convince this guy to take a detour towards Ealdor if he didn't already hate him.

But the ending line of what Gaius had said, was impossible to miss…cheap. There was a chance that Merlin could have gotten this Erick guy to do it for cheap. Well, it didn't matter one bit how cheap Erick was, even if he did-by some super odd miracle-agreed to do it for as cheap as a single copper piece, Merlin didn't have it. Last month, Merlin had went out of his way to do the stupidest thing he could have done, and that was spending every piece of coin he had on items down in the marketplace. Items Merlin had stored away inside of a little chest he had stolen from Gaius. Items that'd reminded him of home, but had ended up destroyed not even a single day later. By the prince who shall never be named. And then Arthur decided he was going to sneak into his room-Merlin had scrubbed every inch of his room clean after hearing of this, too paranoid to sleep on something that was probably tainted with Arthur's touch-and stolen the smashed box of items. And replaced it. And ruined it. And 'fixed up the box' by hiding all of the imperfections Merlin had thought made it beautiful. It was still sitting on his bedside table…sitting as if it was warning him. Never allowing Merlin to forget a thing about how horrible Arthur was. He didn't really need to have a reminder, but it was there nonetheless. But Merlin needed to get back to his point, which was…he didn't have anything to pay the man with. So his ambitions of contacting his mom for one second…has vanished into the air like dust would in the wind.

"How are you doing with that bag there, Merlin. Should I get one of the serving boys to come over here and help?" Gaius suddenly asked him, making Merlin to jolt from his thoughts. The consort whipped his head around to look at his uncle, it caused the bag to press far more firmly along the side of his neck, making his neck ache at an awkward angle. As nice as it had been to worry about something other then Arthur, the whole letter thing was an issue Merlin would just have to let go of. As nothing more than one more disappointment. What he needed to do was focus on Gaius, his uncle who watched him closely, looking him up and down his body with the keen eyes of a physician. "You can put the bag down, it will take a moment only for me to have a servant summoned."

Merlin could admit that doing hard labor, and carrying a bag that most likely weighed more then him over his shoulder, is not the best idea he had ever had. He could only imagine all of the after effects he might be suffering with once the little adrenaline he had wore off. He would probably crash and lie in his bed for another month, something that sounded like a waste of time but…was the only thing he wanted to do. The adrenaline was probably the only reason Merlin could stand on his own two feet at all. He could only imagine that Gaius had been holding back this entire time, wanting Merlin to do things on his own like he used too. But at some point, it was the physician in him that had to step in and tell the consort he had done enough.

But that was the thing, wasn't it, Merlin felt as if he wasn't doing enough. He knew he wasn't doing enough, after he'd spent so much of his time in bed. But it was also worse then that. Some kind of internalized guilt telling him he needed to do more, needed to be more, needed to succeed even when he knew nothing he did was going to be good enough. That was the part of him that told him to forego his own health or happiness or life. And just suck it up, and do what they were wanting from him. Even if it meant making a life out of being the Living Doll. No emotions, no interests outside of what he was allowed, no talking unless spoken too, no…Merlin had to force himself to remember that this was Gaius he stood with right now. Not Arthur, who had more expectations then the consort could ever hope to reach.

"No, no, no. I'm fine. You don't need to do that." Merlin said in a quick tone, readjusting his shoulder more firmly against the sack to bare more of the weight. His stomach was going all cramped up, but he didn't know if that would be because of his depression, his lack of food trying to make itself more apparent, his anxiety once again telling him something was about to go tremendously wrong as they started entering a more popular area of the castle…or a strange mixture of all three. His head seemed to spin, but Merlin shook it off and focused more. All he had to do was focus, and keep putting one foot in front of the other. "I've got this…I only wish that it didn't smell like horse manure."

Merlin said this very wry, a hint of a sarcastic undertone that had been seriously lacking in his life nowadays. But Merlin's urge to reclaim what he used to be, had disappeared almost faster then it had came up. And Merlin's expression dropped just as fast. He arched his head away from the smell so that he could indicate just how awful it was, but it felt as if Merlin was only going through the motions. Trying to show Gaius it was all okay. His uncle didn't need to go and get some other servant to do this job. Merlin was the nephew, and it was his job to do things to help make his elderly uncle's life easier in the long run. Merlin hadn't really been doing that lately, but …he could do this now. Merlin would never be good enough for Arthur. But Merlin could spend what little energy he had, while he still had it, to do the one thing his uncle had asked of him since he had fallen into his first bout of depression.

"Really? It smells like horse manure?" Gaius asked curiously, as if he couldn't smell how absolutely awful it was from his position next to Merlin. It was certainly strong enough for it to be smelt from a distance. Gaius even leaned over, so that he could get a big whiff of the bag for himself. And it left the consort wondering how in the world Gaius hadn't grimaced of scrunched his face up at the smell. Gaius could've been smelling flowers, if Merlin didn't know any better. But Gaius only pulled away and shrugged. "That really does seem like quite the conundrum, doesn't it? Since it's supposed to be donkey manure."

Merlin froze, and stopped walking mid-step. He watched as Gaius continued walking on, as if he hadn't just dropped the news onto Merlin. He was carrying…donkey shit right across his bag. Gaius kept a supply of donkey shit on hand…as if it was something that was going to go out of style. Gaius was going to be doing experiments that somehow involved all of the horse shit being put into it…Merlin followed after Gaius as he struggled to wrap his mind around the strangest thing he had seen since he had first entered Camelot. And it also included the time Merlin had seen a ten foot monster made out of clay rear out of a three foot pool of water buried deep into the bowels of Camelot City.