So, this chapter is dedicated to Jacquelyn, for being the one to come up with the final design on Merlin's outfit. I hope they and everyone else enjoys seeing a pretty Merlin when he emerges from his room ;p but we won't get to see the full effect until the next chapter perhaps :p
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It was just as Merlin suspected, when the last words faded from his lips. Neither Gaius nor Gwen looked as if they were very pleased with Merlin's spur of the moment decision to change his mind. Though honestly, as the seconds passed them by, Merlin had to start wondering if they really weren't taking the news good, or if they just hadn't heard him. But, he knew they had. Merlin could see they had, with Gwen's downcast expression as she slowly allowed the sheets she was holding to slip through her fingertips to land back into place. Could see it in the way Gaius was holding himself, in the way the elderly physician stiffly pushed Merlin's drawer back into place. Merlin nearly flinched violently at the click sound the wood made as it softly slid where it belonged. It may as well have been a shout-or Arthur returning to come for him-from the way Merlin reacted. All drawn in and tight, like a spring that was just ready to make it's final pop before it broke.
Merlin hoped that he was making the right decision in going to the banquet, but staying wasn't a feasible option like the others seemed to think. Merlin was broken, and he was sad, and he had nothing left to live for, but…Merlin was still smart enough to know the consequences for all of them would end up dire if he missed tonight. After the way Arthur reacted to him just talking to Bayard during their first meeting…and the way Arthur had reacted just now…Merlin had honestly never seen Arthur as angry as he had been just now. And if he was to be honest…Arthur had fucking terrified him. Especially as Merlin had seen Uther in his son just before Arthur had got physical with him. But…it was hard to believe he was making the right decision when the only two people's opinion who counted….seemed to disagree with him. And maybe the two of them were right, and Merlin was just being some kind of…glutton for punishment. He knew things weren't going to go the way he wanted them too, but…that was exactly why the sorcerer needed to go. Because staying here would only do nothing but invite more pain. Still though…perhaps Merlin should have done nothing more than swallow his tongue and snuck out to the party when Gwen and Gaius didn't have an eye on him. At least Merlin wouldn't feel as if he was being a massive disappointment. As if he was saying…it was okay to have Arthur do these things because Merlin would still show up and put on their whole pony show. It was okay, since the sorcerer could admit it was the only way Merlin was going to learn, it seemed. But…he didn't think Gaius and Gwen would understand his type of thinking.
"…I don't think you are in your right state of mind, Merlin. I might need to check your head for any signs of suffering a concussion." Gaius said strictly, his eyes narrowing in onto his nephew, and studying the shape of his head to see if he had missed anything misshapen. But as far as Gaius could see from sight alone, there didn't appear to be any signs of a concussion. Merlin was up and talking, his words did not sound strange or slurred…his eyes were red from crying but otherwise, the whites of his eyes were normal. No redness that would indicate a blood vessel had popped, if Arthur had hit Merlin harder than the bruising across his face would've suggested he did. "Besides, I think it was already agreed on, you would stay here for the night and recover. There is not a good reason, medically or otherwise, in which I would allow you to go out there in the state you are in."
Gaius voice had been stern, refusing to relent or even try to understand why Merlin felt as if he needed to go. And Merlin looked away, his hands clenching tightly around the edge of the bed, instead of explaining why. He knew they wouldn't understand, and it would just lead to another argument that Merlin didn't think he was ready for. Not tonight…not after all the fighting he has already done in this one day…staying silent was the key. Nobody could fuss at him about what he had to say, if he simply…didn't say anything. Now, he could not stay silent forever, but…Merlin would stay silent for as long as he could. Perhaps though, he could just play along with what Gaius wanted, if his uncle wasn't going to let him go on his own. Allow them to help him dress for bed-Merlin didn't think he had the strength to lift both of his arms, and they were the ones that wanted him dressed, not him-and when they stepped out to let him sleep-they Had to step out to let him sleep, right?-then he could make his move. Try to dress himself up in whatever was in the trunk, and then slip out his window like he use too when Knight Gregory stood at his door to guard him for all hours of the day. It would be a bit more difficult with the way his wrist was, but hopefully the split Gaius wanted to put on it would make it hurt a little less than it had when Merlin had tried wrapping it up all by himself.
"I think that he should go." Gwen's soft but decisive voice stood out in the sudden quietness of the room. Both Gaius and Merlin whipped around to look at the dark skinned girl, Gaius looking horrified and Merlin marveling at him in pure amazement. Was Gwen…was Gwen agreeing with him? If it was any other situation, Merlin might have been acting like Gaius was, and wondering why the hell Gwen wanted to put Merlin back in a situation where he was face to face with the man that abused him. But by golly, Merlin almost wanted to go up and do something stupid, like…like kiss her! A friendly brotherly kiss to the cheek…if the idea of touching anybody so intimately didn't give him the wiles. Gwen appeared as if she didn't notice the way either of them were looking at her, as she casually rose to her feet, an uncharacteristic but very serious expression on her face, as she casually brushed her hand over her skirts to get rid of any lingering glass trying to cling to her. "I do not like it. In fact, it disgust me to think of him going, but…I do think that Merlin going would be the far better option."
Merlin whipped his head back around to see what Gaius was thinking about this, but when he saw his face growing more and more red, he ducked his head back down to keep silent and to himself. His hair fell into his eyes and he clenched his hands and unclenched them again and again-his good hand at least, as he had difficulties closing his left hand without a jolt of pain reminding him he hadn't put enough numbing cream on some areas. Merlin found that it could not be that good for a man Gaius' age, to be getting so angry so many times in such a short span of time. And really, maybe Merlin was just in shock over what had happened, but…he did not see this as big of a deal as Gaius was making it. Merlin was willing to sacrifice himself for the evening-he'd already done it for the last three months-so that his friends wouldn't have to deal with the fallout of Arthur searching for him. And the prince had already found him once, it wouldn't be too hard to check the place that Merlin slept. Besides, Merlin thought with this sardonic voice in the back of his head, what could Arthur do to him that he hadn't already done? Beat him a bit more…Merlin's chest was tight at the thought, but again…he was numb to it all. Content to sit here in silence while all the arguing with Gaius and Gwen got more heated.
"Are you saying that my nephew, the boy you claim to be a friend to you, THIS boy-" Gaius jabbed one of his fingers at Merlin, who didn't flinch or look up from the dark spot along the floor that he found suddenly fascinating. "Should go and sit with his abuser? You are telling me that he should be the one to sit at a table next to Arthur, should smile as if he has not been through the ringer as they sign the merry treaty all of them are so concerned about!" At this moment, the treaty King Bayard and King Uther had been working on during the past few months, could burn in the flames of the hellfires for all Gaius cared. He would not subject his nephew to being a mockery for the nobles to make jokes out of. He wouldn't be giving them new material to work with, at the expense of his only nephew. "Just look at my nephew's face. Look at what…at what that Monster did to him! And you think we should be sending him right back out there? Like a lamb being carried out to the slaughter house?" Gaius demanded, jabbing once more at Merlin, whose bruising looked grotesque with what little lightening they had in the room to still see it with. If the handmaiden, somebody Gaius had thought he'd known-but Gaius had thought he knew Arthur as well, and look how all that had turned out-thought Merlin should face that, then…he would just have to kick her out. He wasn't going to have anybody feeling Merlin's head with nonsense like…being hit around the face, or anywhere for a matter of fact, should be something normal. "Have you suddenly gone completely off the mend, woman? This boy saved your life! And you would send him away just like that!"
But the answer was no, Gwen hadn't gone mad at all. She was actually quite sane, which might have been a far more scarier thought, if this was her sane. But Gwen was trying to think with her heart-that said to wrap Merlin up inside of the biggest blanket she could find, and lay with him until he fell asleep beside her, safe and sound-as well as her head and what would truly be better in the long run-which was sadly, to let Merlin get through the evening. If they got through the treaty without incident, Bayard was only going to be in town for a few more days before he started the two week journey back home-instead of the two months journey if the treaty hadn't included Camelot opening up the routes for Bayard's men so they didn't have to go the long way, in exchange for grain and certain foods they couldn't grow around here. As long as they made it through that…Merlin would have a far better chance at getting healed because hopefully, Arthur would leave him alone for a while after that. Arthur's abusive nature-if it had gone on for longer then Gwen realized-may certainly explain why Merlin had moved out of his original chambers… she had never understood why Merlin made the decision to move. But she certainly could now…though she was proud of herself, for not flinching as hard as she could have when Gaius brought up her being sentenced to death for witchcraft. It was a sore topic, but she didn't blame the physician for throwing it in her face like he had. If he didn't understand what she was trying to say about Merlin now. It was a reaction she would have had, if their positions went in reverse.
"I just want you to think about it for a second here," started Gwen, before Gaius had the chance to throw her out, to get her as far away from Merlin as he possibly could, and treat her like she was the enemy instead of the friend. "I can see only two things happening here. One, Arthur will either show up here and drag Merlin back down to the feast so they can be some kind of power couple in front of Bayard and all his men, though I hardly see that working unless Arthur's came up with some kind of excuse for what happened to Merlin's face. But either way, if that happens, then Arthur will either drag Merlin down there in the clothes he's in, making him be the laughing stock of Camelot-again-for showing up to such a fancy event in his normal clothes. Or, Arthur might see just a bit of reason, and decide Merlin's normal attire is enough to cause Bayard offense, since it looks as if Merlin doesn't care enough about the treaty to prepare himself proper. The best case scenario, Arthur will allow me the time to get him dressed proper. Or worse case, Arthur tries doing it himself and as we all know, Arthur has never dressed without having a manservant to help him, so I shudder to think of what he'd do to Merlin. Once again, in either scenario, Merlin ends up looking like a jester instead of a consort, and Arthur is too busy trying to get them there on time to care. And as much as I am sure you think you can stop him, Arthur is the prince of the kingdom. Do you really think we can stop him, should he express a real desire for him? All he has to do is whistle and a team of knights will show up at his side, ready to keep us detained while Arthur goes with either decision."
Gaius opened his mouth to protest, to say that she was just thinking like a servant girl would. Like somebody who does not have any power or real authority. Not like him, who was renown and respected for his work as the Master Physician of the kingdom. But…he grudgingly closed his mouth back shut instead, thinking Gwen's words over. He could admit…it did carry some kind of truth. If Arthur wanted his nephew so badly…he wouldn't be stopped. Gaius might have some kind of sway if things took a turn for the worse, but even he had already admitted much earlier that there was little he could do to stop Arthur from using his husbandly right to force the consort back into his care. And out of Gaius'. And Gwen was not going to be any help. As he had thought earlier, she was a serving girl. She could kick and scream and throw a huge fuss over it, but that was only likely to get her thrown into a dungeon cell. Or just the stocks herself, if she happened to be luckier. But women were rarely put into the stocks…men often claimed it was because of the vulnerable position that it left a person, leaving them immobile against the whims of any man that came across them if they were forced to stay overnight. But, Gaius supposed none of that mattered at all right now. Gwen might be talking fine on her own now, but Gaius knew about her medical diagnosis-he'd been the one to diagnose her, after all-and her selective mutism. Though from what Gwen had told him during the weekly check ups they've been doing to help her through the trauma of being almost burned at the stake, it appeared the most whenever she was around people that could do it to her again. Nobles and knights mainly, she just shut down whenever she come across one. So no, Gaius couldn't fault her for not doing one thing to help Merlin, Gaius could hardly expect a young girl to try fighting off knights if it came to that, anyway.
"Or two," Gwen continued to make her point, walking over to the trunk that held Merlin's new clothes in it, and trailed her fingers along the golden bar that ran across the edges. "The prince won't show up at all." This seemed like the best thing any of them could have hoped for, but Gwen explained how much she doubted this would actually be a good thing in the aftermath with her next words, "And he will probably have to make some kind of excuse to explain Merlin's absence when he doesn't show up. And do we really want Arthur to have a last word on what's happened? Instead of controlling things for ourselves? I mean, at least if Merlin goes, all of us will be there to make sure nothing gets out of hand. Somebody will be able to make a distraction, I could knock a few things off a table or something and Morgana can get Merlin out of the room before anybody notices if things do go wrong. I would just be dismissed as a stupid and clumsy serving girl before everybody forgets it. And do I really have to mention how bad of an idea it is to leave the prince deciding why Merlin didn't show up? He could make Merlin look worse to the public then he already does. That seems like a lot of power to just hand over to the guy who…"
Gwen trailed off, but she didn't have to finish for Gaius to be able to understand what she had been eluding too. …to the guy who had hit Merlin…it was a lot of power to hand over to the guy who hit Merlin…Gaius flicked his gaze across to look at his nephew, holding back a heavy sigh. Merlin looked just so…fragile, right now. All bruised and broken and innocent in every sense of the word, and yet…not nearly as innocent as he'd been when he had first tripped over his own feet upon entering Gaius' home that first day. Yes, Gaius could admit Gwen's reasoning's grudgingly. It was a lot of power to hand over to the guy that had did this to his nephew. It was a lot of power to hand over to the guy that had thrown Gwen into a cell all those weeks ago, and had been willing to throw the key away without digging through evidence with a fine tooth comb just to make sure it was really her. The girl who had all these years spent working under the royal family with not a single suspicion of sorcery cast in her direction before that day. Yes…it suddenly seemed like this enormous amount of power to hand over to any man. Especially to a prince, that was used to having power at his fingertips. It didn't sit right with Gaius, to know Arthur also had Merlin poised directly at his fingertips. To know Arthur could force Merlin back to his side at any moment he wanted….Gaius swallowed down the bitterness flooding his tongue. Something would need to be done about all of this, yes, but…not until they could make it through tonight in one piece.
After the silence wore on for too long, Gaius grudgingly turned to Merlin, putting the decision in his hands-even if it felt as if Merlin wasn't in the right state to make any kind of decisions, "Merlin," he called out to him. And Merlin, who'd been happy in his little dream world, dozing off in a place he knew was covered in darkness. Where nothing would ever be able to find him, where he would not ever be hurt from those far bigger and larger then he was. But now, he turned his head to look at Gaius at the sound of him name. Though it was a little creepy how he did it, robotic, almost. As if he was mentally preparing himself to be denied what he had to do. "I find that the choice is left in your hands. But I want to have you think about it for a moment, instead of deciding on the spur of the moment. Do you want to go to the banquet tonight and endure whatever may happen. Or do you want to stay with me here, and hope that Arthur hasn't became dumb enough that he would show his face here after what he had done to you?"
Merlin blinked at him, slow and odd, before turning back around, just as robotic as before, and stared blankly at the wall. Gwen and Gaius glanced at each other with confusion but Merlin didn't seem to notice. He simply sat there…and he thought, his good hand coming up to rest gingerly along his fractured wrist, the little pulse of pain being a good and strong reminder of what had happened to him. Could he go through it again, really? If Arthur decided to get handsy with him all over again…there was a pretty good chance that the prince would do something. Merlin couldn't remember one single time where Arthur had ever kept his hands to himself only. They were always on Merlin in some way or the other, even before hitting became a part of their lives. There was the pushing and the shoving and the pulling and the…Merlin could hardly even think about the more awkward moments where Arthur would purposely get too close to him, trying to rile him up or thinking he was dumb enough to not figure out what he was doing when he got close like that. Though, his friend seemed to have it all figured out, with all the different possibilities Arthur could do or would go. But there was only one problem with Gwen's theories…because Merlin already knew exactly which one Arthur was going to do.
Arthur was going to come for him. There was no doubt in Merlin's mind, if he didn't show up tonight…Arthur would be in his room to get him. The question wasn't 'if' Arthur would come for him, it was 'when.' Gwen wouldn't have questioned it either, if she had seen the look in Arthur's eyes just before he had smacked him. That look of pure unadulterated anger that seemed to spark into a roaring inferno the second that Merlin tried to jerk away from him. The possessive grip he'd had on Merlin's arms, as if he was trying to indent each and every one of his fingers into Merlin's skin, forcing his body to remember the shape of Arthur's always, just before he'd shoved Merlin away so he had enough space between them to hit him. The strange look that could have resembled deep hunger after he had hit the ground…for Merlin? Merlin was probably mistaken about that look, it wasn't as if the blond could actually 'eat' Merlin, though his demonic demeanor might suggest otherwise. It had still left Merlin vulnerable, spread out across the ground as he had been. Merlin was definitely not like the spider, who weaved a sticky enough web to catch his prey for dinner. Merlin was the fly that had been stupid enough to slam straight into it, stupid enough to fight and squirm and try to get himself free from the stickiness, only to end up getting himself more trapped until the spider came for him. Just as Arthur was going to come for him…sticking hot pins in his eyes sounded better then what choice he knew he needed to make. But…it was time for the consort to make the smart choice, instead of his emotions that screamed at him to stay away. He had tried that once already, and look at where it had gotten him.
"I think that I…would like to go to the banquet. I have never been to one before, the experience might be…different then what I have seen." Merlin made his pitiful excuses, keeping his real reasons away from Gwen and Gaius. The last thing he wanted to do, was let them know that he was only doing this for them. So that they wouldn't get involved in the fight that was him and Arthur. Or as much of a fight it would be if Arthur was the only one actually fighting, Merlin had given up on it long ago, accepting that he would not ever win with his competitor being Arthur. Merlin might have tuned Gwen out for the most part, when he had been in his happy place, but a few words had managed to leak in…and he would not let Arthur turn the knights on them just so he could have the consort for himself. Call Merlin a self sacrificing fool all you wanted, but he would rather subject himself to Arthur for a thousand times, then allow his friends to take his place for even one moment. Merlin was used to all of this anyway, he knew what to expect…and he knew how to survive. "So that means I should probably get dressed, right? I am sure it's all about to start at any moment…you know…"
Gwen gave him a solemn nod of her head, looking as if she was about to prepare him for war, instead of something that was meant to be a peace treaty. But the woman didn't say a word as she knelt down in front of the trunk, and started to undo the latches. Gaius scoffed loudly, his displeasure with Merlin's answer clear as the clicking of the trunk being open was heard throughout the silence of the room. Merlin dared to glance up at his uncle, but he looked away just as fast as he could, when he saw Gaius was avoiding his gaze. Merlin focused his look back on the floor, blinking to try and avoid another round of raw immense crying. It appeared that the physician may have given him the choice, but Merlin done gave him the wrong answer and had disappointed him. It wasn't right, to give somebody a choice and then be upset when the answer wasn't the one they wanted. But…Merlin figured, Gaius would not understand why he was doing this, even if he tried his best to explain that he was doing it FOR him. And for Gwen. And even Morgana…Gaius would most likely try to tell him not to worry about them. That he could handle himself. But how was Merlin supposed to NOT worry about it, when that was all he did. Worrying about how his actions were effecting those around him. No…Merlin would deal with this. Just as he always had…in silence. For as long as he could…
"Now, the first thing we need to do is pick which outfit will suit you the most." Gwen announced, and Merlin watched as she pushed the lid of the trunk open so that it was standing up straight. He watched with trepidation as Gwen started to dig around in the trunk, taking inventory, it looked like, with what was inside of it. Merlin couldn't deny his curiosity over what was inside, and he tried to lean over to get a good look at it himself. But Gwen was in the way, and Merlin was only able to see something that was Pendragon red, that Gwen was moving out of her way. Merlin immediately leaned back in his seat, a curl of disgust going through him at the idea of wearing something red. Arthur would probably really like the red-a sign of who Merlin belonged to, rather then whatever everybody else thought Merlin belonged too-or he'd really hate it, and it would be another reason for Arthur to beat on him. Already, Merlin could see that there was nothing in this trunk that would be suited for him, nothing that would make him comfortable enough to walk out in front of everybody as he wore it…he'd been stupid to think for one second that the clothes would be anything other then the stifling thick ones the nobles tended to wear. "Okay, it looks as if the Madame Teresa has packed up four different outfits for you to look at and decide on. There's also four pouches of make up that'll go with each outfit. A couple of pins if something needs to be taken in or loosened to make it fit better, hmm…Madame Teresa doesn't usually include those. She's usually spot on in her measurements, but most servants do at least know of the basics on how to sew…"
Gwen trailed off, one of the five brown pouches that she'd found tucked into the side of the trunk opened inside of her hand, to show the pins. Merlin glanced over to them as well, as he ran Gwen's words around in his mind, bringing up his hand to cup around his elbow. Madame Teresa didn't usually include pins inside of the trunks she delivered to people…it could only mean one reason for why she did now. Merlin felt a blush rising to his face, warming his cheeks as he quickly looked away in embarrassment. Merlin couldn't remember running into Madame Teresa, but it was very possible that she'd seen him once or twice when he was running around the castle. And considering clothes were her thing, it would not be a stretch to see that she'd noticed the loss of weight he'd had over the last few weeks, how his clothes hung on him worse then they had before. Like Gaius had noticed…hell, he'd probably lost twenty pounds since he'd entered the city, his ribs were sticking out whenever he took off his shirt. And considering his height…Merlin needed to have all of the weight he could get to stick on his bones. But there was nothing to stop the rush of embarrassment flooding his bodily systems…he'd thought he'd been hiding it so well…
"Well then, I hardly think that we will need those right now. I suppose that we can just put those aside for later." Said the handmaiden quickly, a blush raising to her cheeks as well as she noticed her faux pass. Most people didn't exactly bring attention to such things, but…real friends, Gwen supposed, would bring up their concerns. But it wasn't as if they hadn't already, it was why Gwen had spent so much time trying her best to get some broth into Merlin when he had been far too depressed to even get out of bed. But she couldn't deny the pins would most likely be needed before they saw the final results of Merlin. She would just tuck these pins back into the little pocket of the trunk she found them in until after Merlin was clothed appropriately. "Y'know …just in case." She said, before doing exactly that, slipping it down into the little side pocket.
Merlin nodded his head, just relieved that the pins were out of his sight for now. It seemed so stupid, after everything he had lived through in this one day alone, but his weight would definitely be a sore topic nowadays. He didn't want to talk at all about how skinny he was. He didn't want to think for one second about how frail his skin was, where even something as simple as a pinch would leave his skin discolored…it was no wonder Arthur's hit looked as bad as it did since he was already in bad shape. He didn't even want to look at himself, knowing that three months had been enough to distort and change him both physically and mentally. But it couldn't be that way forever. Sooner or later, Merlin was going to have to take off his shirt if he was going to chance into whatever fancy clothes were good enough for even their Unwanted Consort to wear. And sooner or later…attention was going to be brought to his body when Gwen started using those pins on him to take in all the looser fabric.
"I think I'll just go downstairs and get my supplies ready and set up for when the two of you are done. If you are going to do this, then I need to be sure that you aren't going to have anymore damage done to your wrist before this is over." the physician suddenly said, finding that he couldn't just stand here and watch his nephew being prepared for the next big event of his Consort lifestyle. As far as this aged physician was concerned, they may as well be really preparing for the consort to be delivered to Arthur like the lamb being all set up for the slaughterhouses. His only comfort was that he'd be there…to watch, and observe, and kick up a fuss that he knew would embarrass the king himself if he saw anything that he didn't like, but…this…this, he couldn't watch. "Don't take too long though. That wrist has been through enough as it is."
And Merlin watched as Gaius walked out without looking at him. As soon as the door clicked shut behind him, Merlin felt his shoulders sagging, as if he had only been staying strong so that Gaius wouldn't worry about him. But now that Gaius was gone…Merlin looked back down at the floor to study the old wood, looking at the cracks embedded in it, at the larger crack he knew only needed to be pulled up to reveal where he kept his magic book hidden…he wanted his uncle to just come back. Tell him things would be alright, even though he knew both of them knew that it wouldn't be okay for a long, long time. But sometimes…placates were really all anybody had to hold onto, to make it through some of the darker and more difficult times that were ahead of them. Because there was nothing else for them to hold onto. But if his uncle did come back…what would stop Merlin from spilling out the truth…that he was only doing this for them. Gaius seemed to be so disappointed in him, in his decision to go, and while it was obvious for the best…Merlin still wanted to tell him that he wouldn't go. Just so Gaius-Merlin swallowed the disgust forming in the back of his throat-wouldn't be just one more person for him to disappoint.
Merlin blinked his eyes, shook his head, and turned back to Gwen, who was still digging through the trunk with her back to him, most of the stuff seemed to be piling up near the top as Gwen was reaching the bottom, and Merlin shivered discontented as he saw something gold peeking out from underneath that pendragon red top. But now wasn't the time for Merlin to be a coward. If he was going to do this, then he needed to just open up his own damn mouth and speak. Gwen was going out of her way to help him, the least he could do was talk to her. It wasn't as if 'she' was going to hit him if he spoke the wrong thing. But it took far too much courage and effort for the consort to lick his lips-the cut he had stinging violently-and effort to actually say something, "So…is there anything you can see that isn't going to make me look like a huge prat?"
It was something that the old Merlin might have said, he had even managed to adopt the wry tone he might have used as he said it. But there was something…lacking, about it. There was something in his soul that said he just wasn't feeling as he would have. It was humorless with a touch of bitterness, and Merlin snapped his mouth shut when he saw Gwen give a large jump at the sound of his voice. Clearly startling her…it made Merlin avert his eyes as he once again started with this mental kicking of himself. He really was stupid, unable to talk to his own friend without scaring her. He wondered just how long it would be before Gwen was disappointed in him like Gaius was, or if he'd already disappointed her and she was just better at hiding it then his uncle was. Whatever the reason was, Merlin figured it would be a good reason to keep his mouth shut.
"Well, it appears that Madame Teresa has created at least four different outfits for you to look over. She always likes to have the people she's designing for to make the final choice on what they wear, so she knows what kind of style they like so she can make more in that style." Gwen said easily, and it looked as if she had recovered from Merlin startling her well enough. It still didn't stop the sorcerer from feeling bad for making her scared at all…he really must still be raw with all of these draining emotions he was dealing with. If he would tear himself apart over something that was so minor when it was compared to everything else. "So, how about this. I will just pull out the tops, they are all vastly different and while I see the pants are varying in colors, the styles seem to have only minor differences to them. You can just decide on what top you feel comfortable with wearing, and that's what we'll go with, with all the other stuff, agreed?"
Gwen shifted around a bit so that she was facing Merlin and her eyebrow was raised in question, making sure Merlin was okay with her decision. Though her voice was tentative and soft, as if she was worried she would be the one that scared 'him' if she was too loud. Merlin hated it, that she thought he needed to be handled with kid gloves, or treated as if he needed to be watched in case he made a break for his high window. Though to be fair…but anyway, Merlin didn't have a problem with anything that Gwen said. It sounded as good a system as anything else would be, and what did Merlin know about different 'styles' or how each one would apparently fit him differently and he needed to find one he liked. The only style Merlin had known, was if this shirt was going to try and do it's best to swallow him whole, or if these pants were too tight for him to do his work in the fields quickly enough or if he needed to risk finding pants that would be too big and if he would need to find a length of rope to hold them up. But Merlin didn't get into all of that, and only gave Gwen a short and non-communal shrug of his shoulders. Gwen seemed to take this as permission to go on, and thus started what was going to be the dullest moment of Merlin's night.
"Okay, here is the first option. Just take a look at it, and…tell me what you think about it?" Gwen said, tugging out a white piece of cloth she had found somewhere near the bottom of the trunk, before laying it out on the bed and smoothing her hands out along the material so he could get a good look at the full thing. Merlin didn't look at it while she did this, and could only feel the tightened churning in his gut. This simple cloth shouldn't be freaking him out as it was, but…it did. All of this scared him. Merlin was absolutely terrified of making the wrong choice, of picking the wrong one and receiving a scornful sneer from the prince. It was enough to make him feel as if his heart was trying to shoot its way out of his own chest, and four different options suddenly felt as if it would be four different options too much. Why couldn't somebody just pick for him, why couldn't they decide this just like they decided everything else Merlin did. Gwen's soft voice forced him out of his wallowing, "Well…what do you think? This one is nice, and it's so soft as well. That might feel nice against your skin…"
Merlin knew what Gwen was doing before he even turned to look at his first option. She was trying to make this far more comfortable then it was, his tensed position clearing cluing her in that he was two seconds from running. But Merlin was not going to run, because if he did…Gaius would be left on his own in these chambers when Arthur came from him. And he wouldn't subject his uncle to a crazed Arthur, so taking a final deep breath to calm himself down the best that he was able too, he finally turned to look over the white cloth she'd spread out on the bed beside him. And almost immediately, he was blanching when he saw the fine fabric.
In retrospect, there was absolutely nothing wrong with the shirt itself. It had clearly been made for royalty, though the shirt was also far more…billowy and thinner then he would have imagined a noble would wear, since they seemed to be favoring far thicker fabric to show off their wealth. Peasants couldn't afford more then one thin fabric to cover up with so if somebody had more…they obviously had money to spend on it. The first thing he noticed were the sleeves, the way it would fall down pass his wrist and fall somewhere directly in the center of his palm, that part would actually have been a perfect solution to hide his fractured wrist. Something that would hide the splint or bandages Gaius was going to put all around it. But the neckline…the neckline felt as if it would be the real problem. It had wide shoulders that appeared to not be doing it's actual job of, well…covering the shoulders. The consort almost thought it could have been an accident, as if Madame Teresa would make such a mistake to think that his shoulders were that wide. Until he figured out it wasn't any kind of mistake at all, and that people might actually expect him to wear something so…revealing. The neckline would've fallen short and no amount of tugging could've pulled them back into a more comfortable position. They were meant to fall so they hung off his shoulders, showing off the way that the lack of meat on his bones caused his collar bones to be sticking out in an incredibly unhealthy manner. Merlin would not be able to wear that in public, he shuddered to think he might even be forced to try it on when wearing it in private seemed to be even too much.
But Gwen seemed to recognize his blanch expression well enough to know that this is a definite 'no', "I think you have to be absolutely right about that one. White is way to easy to get dirty and this thin material will probably rip easily if you tripped or something." Gwen said casually, easily using Merlin's own clumsiness for the perfect excuse for why the consort didn't want to wear it. Merlin's shoulders sagged in relief when she rolled up the cloth in a way that was meant to minimize wrinkles and tossed it back towards the side so that it would be out of the way. Without another word on the matter, or trying to figure out the real reason Merlin refused to wear such a thing-god, Gwen was such a good friend. He could only hope that the rest of the outfits in there were not the same as the first option-she simply reached back in the box and pulled out the second top. "What about the red one for tonight? If there is any meal or side dish that will include a type of sauce, the color could help cover up any stains on you if you spill. Or it could even help minimize the damage if there's a food fight tonight."
Merlin's eyes flicked down to the Pendragon red cloth he'd spied peeking out of the trunk earlier, and his face went all tight at the sight of it. Just as the first one, it was beautiful and fit for nobility. Though it was definitely far more modest then the white one. With sleeves that stopped directly at his wrist, he might have to tug it down some to hide his splint but it would do the job good enough. And the high neckline was better then his regular shirts, covering up most of his throat in a way that would have been impossible for the other one to do. But…Merlin leaned over further, there was a stretch of gold buttons going down the side of the front. It was clear it wasn't buttons to actually hold the thing closed, but they had been made for decorative purposes. Simply pinned onto the fabric instead of having any practical reason for them. And Merlin could swear, they were made out of real gold, able to catch his reflection in the large buttons because of just how much they shone….and he jerked his head away to suck in a large and panicked breath. Merlin…Merlin had caught sight of his bruises, only a dark patch of purpling skin across half of his face. That had been probably the first time he had seen his own reflection since Arthur had hurt him, but the glimpse he'd seen was enough to know….he couldn't wear this shirt. Not if he run the risk of looking down and catching sight of the horror show that was his own face.
Merlin could do this, he could tell her no and she wouldn't get mad at him like she hadn't gotten mad at him for telling her non-verbally that the other one wasn't a good one to be forced into. But…a trickle of anxiety induced sweat started to slide down the side of his neck and disappeared into the back of his shirt, because what if there was something that was wrong with the other ones? Something that wasn't only a small matter that could be dismissed for one evening, but something that made him sick at just the thought of needing to wear it. It was easier to look at it like…hey, I've managed to narrow it down to two options. And isn't looking at two of the shirts far better then having four different options to go through? One would think, but…Merlin doubted. Because he knew there was every chance that he would deny them too, and what would he do then. He would have to choose one-perhaps the one that was the least damaging to his already poor mental psyche. But when Merlin had finally gotten the strength to open his mouth, different words flooded out of him instead, as if he couldn't bare to disappoint Gwen if she actually liked the shirt, "Does that happen often?" And then the handmaiden was looking at him, with her head tilted just slightly to the side, looking as if she didn't understand what his question was. Merlin felt the heat stinging along his face again, before clarifying, "The…food fight…I mean…"
Gwen had spoken as if she expected for the feast to fall into a food fight, as if it was the most normal thing in the entire world. But to Merlin, a food fight was probably the worse of anything that could happen. Merlin had heard of them, but it was never something done in Ealdor. Another thing that was different about Camelot: where people thought they were so rich and where people who had never had to worry rather or not they were going to have a next meal lived, apparently threw their food into the faces of others. It was supposed to be fun, but Merlin could not understand how, not as a child when his belly had often rumbled more then it should have and definitely not now that he was old enough to know just how awful it was. Not when he knew how beneficial it would have been for nobles to leave behind the food none of them had touched so that others could pass it out among the town people. Hell, if the amount of food Merlin had seen at their wedding was any indication-enough food to see his entire hometown fed throughout a month-then how much of this food was going to end up wasted during this one peace treaty while his own people were starving. Surely some of Camelot's own peasants may benefit from it as well…
"Of course, you should have seen how big the mess was to clean up when it happened during the feast of Beltane just last year. It took the servants nearly a week to scrape every inch of food off the walls." Gwen explained, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, tilting her head just a little bit further and giving Merlin a slow blink of her eyes. Now, Gwen was no stranger to the plights of peasants, being one herself. But this made Merlin realize…Gwen and him may be peasant raised, but they lived two vastly different lives when compared. Merlin's version of being peasant, didn't entirely align with Gwen's, who at least had a large castle she could easily smuggle food from if times got tough. Merlin though, had never had such options, and was only able to eat what little they could manage to grow that season. "And it's most definitely not the only time that things had gotten lively and developed into a food fight. It isn't strange for somebody to have a bit too much to drink, start waving their hand around until something goes flying and smacks somebody directly in the face further down the table. And then of course, they have to throw something back but nobles who've drunk far more than they should aren't the best at aiming, so it's quite liable to hit somebody else. And before you know it…it's as if the entire noble court has lost their minds as they start to pelt each other with food."
Merlin slowly nodded his head, as if he understood one word of what she had just said. Drunk or not, it didn't give anybody a reason to waste food like that. It was why Merlin didn't eat anything nowadays, nothing more then a spoonful to keep him moving if he could help it. Because he knew he wasn't going to be able to eat the entire thing, yet alone be able to eat even a good enough portion before putting up all he left for later. Before Merlin might have questioned Gwen a bit more, ask her if she agreed with people wasting food like that. Merlin might not eat these days, but he still knew the value of food and that it could mean the different in one living or one dying. But that was before Arthur had smacked him into silence, before Merlin had given up, and Merlin had already made so many mistakes when he dared to say just a bit of something since he had returned to his rooms. Asking questions wasn't going to change or stop the nobles if they wanted to do it. And talking to Gwen to find out all the other things that were different about their lives as peasants was not going to change anything either. It wasn't as if he would want Gwen to struggle as they were in Ealdor. But…it was all still very strange to him to know some peasants didn't have it as bad. But Merlin supposed it all depended on where one lived. A village in the middle of nowhere obviously had more problems then a village that lived directly under the castle.
But Merlin did look back down at his knees, and clenched his hand around the edge of his bed before talking again, "I suppose…" he licked his dry lips before finishing, the effort to say anything practically draining him dry. If this was how it was going to be when he talked to Gwen…how would the consort make it through an entire night with nobody but the kingdom's elite surrounding him. "That's just another thing I will not ever understand. How people are having food fights in the middle of their castle…and still carry on about with all of the airs and graces that the court has. It's a…it's just one huge mystery to me…"
And Merlin clenched himself up tight, preparing for Gwen to give him some kind of backlash. He might not have said any thing personally against her, but it was still a slight-even if it had been a very small slight-against the kingdom that she'd hailed from. Arthur for sure, would have thrown a massively huge fit if he thought Merlin was saying one bad word going against his own kingdom. But Merlin was once again finding himself reminded that Gwen was not anything like the ones that scorned him, because she gave a small chuckle. Almost like she found him being lost amusing, but…Merlin was also able to note that it wasn't being done in a mean way. As she folded up the red shirt to place off to the side with the white one, as if she was taking his silence on it to mean that it was also a no. Merlin was relieved to see it go, even though it did leave Merlin wondering rather or not Gwen was trying just a bit too hard to pretend that everything was normal. Trying to pretend as if Merlin didn't have massive injuries, pretending it wasn't his own husband that gave them to him…perhaps it was only because Gwen didn't want to bring him down with bringing it back up. Whatever the reason-Merlin thought as his face twinged with soreness-he was grateful for that one, at least.
"Well perhaps after tonight, it won't be such a mystery. You might even make a few connections if you have a chance to talk to some of the other men from Mercia." And Merlin was just barely able to contain the scoff that wanted to emerge from his lips. Connections? Him? Yeah, right. To do that, the consort would actually have to, you know…talk. To someone wearing blue capes and fancy armor…and that wasn't going to happen. Merlin didn't care if a man wore the blue robes of Mercia or the red robes of Camelot, somebody able to wear a robe or cape at all made them all the same as far as Merlin was concerned. Sure, there might be one or two that hadn't wanted to kill him on sight among the Camelot knights but it was a rare breed of men, and Mercia would be just the same as Camelot. But at least Gwen had some optimism with this subject, that was more then what Merlin had in a lifetime, he felt. "Don't be like that," Gwen continued as she noticed that his disgruntlement was showing. "Morgana actually had this short conversation with Uther earlier, and while Uther could have been more…kind with his words," she trailed off, clearly trying not to hurt Merlin's feelings. And Merlin could've only imagined what Uther had to say about him. "The king had to basically admit that Bayard seems quite taken with you. The king even mentioned how Bayard wanted to know a bit more about Camelot's newest consort. I don't know what you did while you were in that whole meeting thing, but it seems you did at least leave an impression on Bayard."
Merlin knew that Gwen was trying to be helpful, because if Merlin already had Bayard on his side, then it would only be a matter of time before Merlin won over his men. But it only caused Merlin the opposite effect, his heart seizing up in a panic as he launched himself up so that he was sitting much straighter than a rod would have been. Bayard…impression…Arthur…Arthur didn't think that Merlin had made any kind of good impression on Bayard. Merlin was the one that'd been dumb enough to show an interest when Bayard announced to the entire court of Camelot that he was gay, as out and as proud about it as Merlin himself was. And then Merlin made the mistake of showing an interest in how Bayard's kingdom treated magic users…it was a marvel to know that they were not put on the pyre or being inducted into another's war…he knew being shunned, as they did in Bayard's kingdom, was not a picnic. But Merlin figured being ignored couldn't have been any worse then being abused, hell, being ignored was almost like a godsend at this point. But…none of that would matter if Bayard expected him to actually…talk to him…while they were at the banquet.
If Merlin had made any kind of impression on him during the meet and greet, the king of Mercia was going to be surely disappointed in him during the banquet. Merlin had figured he would only be following behind Arthur the entire time, he figured he would sit at the table with the rest of his 'family' and 'eat' his meal and watch as the treaty was signed and all the celebrations that took place. It'd somehow escaped him that he might actually be asked to…participate in what was going on. But how was he supposed to participate with any of this? Oh good god, with everything that had gone on the last few hours, Merlin had honestly forgotten about the other king. And his men. And oh god, Merlin was going to be sick for real. He was going to say or do something and then Bayard really would take offense and Camelot was going to go to war because of him, and…the prince would have a real good reason to hate him if he caused a bloody war. Fuck…was it really so hard for Merlin to keep his head down and stay out of trouble? Everybody else seemed to be doing it easily enough, but Merlin wasn't everybody and…and…and…
"Here, what do you say about this top." Gwen said quickly, as if she knew Merlin was literally only two seconds away from having another meltdown. And was doing something that she knew would distract him, and Merlin whipped his head around to look at the third outfit that she had spread out along the bed. His breath was more high pitched then it should have been, but he focused on that outfit like his own life depended on. And the first thing he saw was more gold, more gold everywhere. Some people said that the third time was the charm when they were trying to do something, but for Merlin…it was most definitely not the charm. It looked to be made out of some kind of silky material, but it looked to be made out of sheer gold. The neckline was no good, as it still showed off his collarbones but at least it covered up far more then the white one had. Still more then he would have been comfortable with. And the sleeves…they stopped just passed his elbows. It would have left his splint in clear view of everybody, with nothing to hide it as Merlin was sure that he wouldn't be allowed to wear his peasant jacket on top of a noble's outfit. "I mean, the coloring is surely going to give you a chance to stand out for sure. But it's not entirely the worse I've seen. It does have some potential if you're into it but I…somehow don't think you are. We can always try it on though, or any of the others if you want. There's always the fourth outfit as well that we haven't looked at, but we do still have these other three as options if we need to backtrack-"
Merlin had to hand it to Gwen, she certainly knew how to get him focused on something else other then what would soon be happening, before he ended up falling into another panic attack. His breathing slowed down, eyes falling onto the outfit that had been presented to him. And if Merlin was able to forget about Bayard for the moment…it was almost a bloody nightmare to be talking over something as mundane as clothes-especially as this particular top shone enough, it made him eyes want to stop bleeding-and he was scared to find out how awful the last one was going to be. Hell, it was a top that looked as if it could have been painted onto him, with how slim it appeared to be. It would probably fit perfect in Merlin's current state, but certainly not how he had been looking before he stopped eating. While the outfits would be perfect for nobility-all three of them-they were awkward as fuck to imagine a peasant born being able to pull it off as he should. Merlin could feel it as his heart spiked painfully, not a good sign…breathe, Merlin had to think as he sucked in a deep breath to calm his shakiness, tapping the fingers of his good hand along the inside of his knee. One finger after the other until it became a pattern …one, two, three, four, five. And he did it again…one, two, three, four, five…feeling each one of his fingers making contact with his leg, his breathing started to regulate to something that was more normal…one two three four five…one two three four five…
"No." Merlin said quietly, the force of it ripping throughout his raw throat. Gwen, who had picked up the golden shirt to get a better look at it, allowed it to drop back down onto the bed, but Merlin didn't look at her. One, two, three, four, five. He counted out to himself, continuing to rap his fingers onto his knee. He had never done this whole finger thing before, but it was a technique Merlin remembered from one of the books of Gaius he had torn through. Merlin had dismissed it since he didn't see how 'counting' was supposed to calm a person down when they were two seconds away from being forced into a near explosion. But…one, two, three, four, and five…Merlin still wouldn't say it entirely helped. He still had a pressure in his chest, but…it did keep him grounded. Just a bit more focused on what was happening instead of leaving him too focused on the 'what if's' about the future that had not even gotten here yet. He just needed to keep doing this, and hope it would help make him appear a bit more sane in front of Bayard and the court, and… "I think that I would just like to see the fourth option now."
Gwen didn't argue against him, what was there to argue on about? Merlin wanted to see the last shirt, and hope that it was not some ungodly masterpiece, and that was that. The prince though…Arthur would have argued about it, claimed he was just too picky and there was nothing wrong with any of the clothes being offered to him. But Arthur also had not gone through a major lifestyle change, and Arthur wouldn't be looking for clothes that NEEDED to keep his fractured up wrist covered. But perhaps, Merlin should be doing better to stop himself from comparing everybody he knew to Arthur Pendragon. Gwen wasn't Arthur, she wasn't going to pick at him and try to start needless fights just because she knew it was not going to end in his favor. In fact, Gwen only nodded her head, folded up the golden cloth, and stuck it off toward the side where all the other tops had been settled, standing out among the other colors with its golden hue.
"I think you might have made a good call with not choosing that top." Gwen said encouragingly, as she moved back so she was sitting back in front of the trunk. Merlin didn't stop his fingers tapping against his knee for even one second as she ducked both of her hands back into the trunk. And the consort watched as she shifted through the clothes, trying to push the pants and shoes that had been left inside of the trunk, searching out the final top. Her head ducked down in it low, and Merlin could barely hear her as she casually said, "I think a shirt that tight…you could probably end up seeing your nipples straight through it. Might be fun for any other event, or if this was your one hundredth peace treaty and if you were feeling a bit bold, it might be good. If you had any thing, some kind of jacket of cloak to cover yourself up with but for your first…you might want to try something that is a bit more subtle. Madame Teresa must have been feeling just a bit cheeky when she placed that in there."
Because Gwen was nearly inside of the trunk at this point, with her rump going up into the air, she didn't see the way that Merlin blanched, or the way his fingers started to beat a bit harder and a bit faster against his knee. He had noticed it would be a bit too tight, he hadn't thought it would be so bad that it could…shape the curve of his nipples until it had the outline of them seen through the thin fabric. Merlin had to resist the urge to grab his jacket and curl it a bit tighter to hide himself inside of it. Merlin wouldn't call himself a prude since he'd taken his shirt off plenty of times back home with the other men as they toiled the fields and their shirts were carrying more sweat then shielding them from the sun. But…he was still raw about Arthur calling him a whore. Perhaps it was a good sign that Merlin hadn't taken to the gold shirt. If Merlin had shown up to the feast with his nipples on display, if Arthur caught sight of them as Merlin was trying to be the good consort he was meant to be…then he would've proved Arthur's claims right. Only a whore would show their nipples in front of the entire court so brazenly…one, two, three, four, five…one, two, three, four, five….
The edge of Merlin's teeth brushed against his bottom lip before he pulled his teeth back…Arthur apparently didn't like it when he touched his lips for whatever reason, so he would need to remember that-it was what Arthur had been looking at just before he hit him…one, two, three, four, and five…Merlin really needed to stop thinking about tracing his nipples through his shirt right now. Because surely the fourth top wouldn't be so bad that people would be able to see through it. What the young consort really needed to do was prepare himself for going to the banquet…one, two, three, four, and five…he couldn't go to the party if he was too busy having near panic attacks at simply thinking he would be forced to participate. The King of Mercia would have every right to withdraw the treaty if he disappointed tonight. And Arthur would do only who knows to him if it-or even if it wasn't-Merlin's fault. But the least he could do was make sure things went as smoothly as they'd be able to with his involvement. But then again…Merlin had always tried to help and nothing ever did. At least nothing in the long term sense. But…Arthur wouldn't be understanding enough to see Merlin staying right here would have been for the best of everyone…Merlin breathed out a heavy sigh.
"…I am sure that whatever Bayard told King Uther, he would have only been just making nice." Merlin said slowly, feeling his chest going tight. After all, he'd been yelled at by Arthur after talking to Bayard, what if Bayard really did try to talk to him again. Merlin could hardly rebuff the king, but the blond haired prince was not going to like it. There was no way for him to win, Merlin was going to end up hurt either way…onetwothreefourfive…onetwothree…Bayard also didn't have anything to gain if he told Uther the truth of how he really felt about Merlin, the Mercia King could've probably seen Merlin's uncouth nature from a mile off…any real interest he had probably steamed from the fact that the consort was peasant born. As if Merlin's birth was nothing more then some kind of gimmick to draw in the people and make them look at the royal family in awe for accepting one such as him into the fold. If only they knew…it was not with a pleasing eye that most people watched with. But having a treaty go through was probably as important to Bayard as it was for the Camelot king. He wouldn't want to offend Uther by saying it was not any strong impression Merlin had left him with. Perhaps a strong stink…the metaphorical kind, and not any actual…stink. "I am sure he probably just didn't want to upset the king by trying to start questioning Uther on why he…agreed to my marriage with Arthur."
Merlin had to shift his words at the last minute, continuing to be the self sacrificing fool that he was. It would've been so easy for Merlin to just admit the truth, spill everything to Gwen. Let her know he had been practically kidnapped and brought here to be forced into the role of Arthur's bride. He had not married Arthur willingly. Surely being a prisoner was better then people thinking he had been so blinded by love, he hadn't seen the red flags of abuse that Arthur seemed to carry about with him. But…Uther had already proved he was more then willing to execute a servant if they were so much as suspected of doing wrong. And Arthur-Merlin could not get the look of unadulterated rage out of his head, the way he had looked so much like his father just before the prince had hit him-would be the same way. Arthur would not be so willing to save Gwen again, if he knew that it would've made Merlin happy. Especially if Merlin was the one dumb enough to tell her the full story himself. He would rather keep all of it bottled up inside of him tightly, then spill the truth and risk Gwen's life over having the simple moment of peace it may give him for somebody else to know the truth…but if Gwen noticed his slight blunder, she didn't say anything about it.
"Oh, I am sure that's not true. I have met you myself, don't you know? And I have to say, you are quite impressive." The young handmaiden said boldly, pulling herself up out of the trunk, Merlin's final option clenched in her fist, though there was nothing Merlin could really see other then it was being a black top. But…there had been nothing other then the pure truth echoing in Gwen's words, her eyes bright and honest when she turned to look at him. She truly thought the other boy had to be the most impressive boy she had ever met in her entire life. Because it took a boy to promise her-as she'd laid curled in a damp and cold corner of her cell, waiting for the knights to bring her to the pyre-he would get her out of there. But it took a man to actually follow through with those words, and it took a man like Merlin to win over Gwen's full and complete loyalty. The handmaiden gave a soft sigh after seeing Merlin staring at her blankly, clearly not believing she found him as impressive as she said he was. Gwen wished it wasn't so hard for Merlin to see the good in himself, to see he was different from other people, to see…she would never have lived to see this day if it hadn't been for him. But Gwen silently unfolded the shirt in her hand, before spreading the black cloth out across the bed. "Well…what do you think of this one?"
Merlin didn't look at the shirt at first, his gaze resting onto Gwen for a moment, before shifting his look back down to the floor. Gwen didn't say a word, giving Merlin a moment to gather himself. But…one, two, three, four, five…Merlin knew he would need far more than just a 'moment' to get himself back together. He needed an entire lifetime to heal from all of the mental-and now physical-scars Arthur had left across him. But he didn't have the luxury of time to get himself on the mental track of preparedness for tonight. One, two, and three, and four, and five…though he was probably trying to overthink things again. Yeah, he knew he was. Trying to do his hardest to think of every different possible outcome of what could happen tonight, and how badly he was going to end up screwing up entirely. When the truth was…the young consort was nothing more then a centerpiece. Something that was meant to look nice as it sat directly in the middle of the table. Silent but pretty as he sat there, listening through all of the boring speeches that were surely going to be part of tonight's events, though Merlin was already in the midst of failing with that, considering the state of his face. But he was not going to end up the entertainment, unless he went and did something that had been particularly bad enough to screw things up.
And speaking of screwing things up, Merlin took in this large breath to force his lungs to expand. He held onto it, keeping his lungs open for as long as he could, before releasing it in the air. And then Merlin turned to look at the final top on the bed, the last hope Merlin had that he wouldn't look as awful or as ridiculous as he was going to feel. Merlin stopped, and he blinked, and he ran his eyes down along the top, and yes …Merlin knew that he was going to look just as ridiculous as he thought he would look. But…Merlin tilted his head to the side, his face made a twinge of soreness side down his jaw when he narrowed his eyes to study the cloth more…maybe he would not look as horrible as this as he would if he wore any of the others. Merlin could feel something loosening in his chest…yes, he thought with a grudging display, his lips stinging from the cut when he frowned, studying the thick dark cloth that looked to be made out of satin, this would be the one.
Merlin glanced back over to Gwen, who was watching him to try and deduct what he was thinking about this one. And the consort gave her a solemn nod, committing himself to wear the satin outfit for the next few hours. And instantly, Gwen's smile was so bright that it could have lit up the entire room, if Merlin wasn't in such a sour mood himself, "This is great, I do like this one the best too. It's got some potential, but you will just have to wait and see." Gwen rambled on in the usual way that she did, sweeping out her arms to gather the three other tops that would need to be discarded, and dropping it all back into the trunk. They had no use for any of them now that Merlin had made his decision. "By the time I've finished fixing you up, you will look absolutely beautiful! I might even bet my life on it!"
Gwen sounded pretty darn confident about herself, and she was already going back to her knees and digging her hands back into the trunk. Searching out the black pants that went along with it, the black boots, the little pouch of pins they'd need to take in some of the looser fabric, as well as the little brown pouch of makeup supplies, though Merlin had never worn a bit of makeup in his entire life-the teenage girls back in Ealdor would sometimes try to use dry berries to mash up their own but it was scarce and Merlin had never been close enough to any of the girls who might want to try it on him…and besides, it was easier to go without, considering all the demands their work took-and shuddered to think of it being used on him now. Especially with his eye like it was…would it not sting him? But the makeup was beside the point, and as Gwen was getting all they needed out, Merlin dropped eyes back onto his news, continuing his counting along the dirty brown peasant pants he wore.
Even though Merlin knew that it was only going to be for one single night-and surely he could survive the odd feeling of satin against his pale skin for a few hours-Merlin ended up surprised with the hollowness in his chest. A strong ache in the core of him that said he would miss his own regular clothes…the clothes he wore now were the only things that he owned that were not tainted by Camelot's presence. The clothes had came with him all the way from Ealdor, and they should stay with him. Not be discarded to the floor-even if it was what he usually did with his clothes before they needed to be washed-while Merlin done a much sleeker and better fitted outfit. One he was only wearing because he hoped the sight of him would make Arthur happy. Or at least make him not as destructive towards Merlin as he usually was. Maybe Merlin could comfort himself with the idea of it being only a single night, but…he knew it wouldn't be. This was his life…it would be every night that Arthur could coerce him to wear it until Merlin no longer questioned it. And that would be what was happening now…Merlin wasn't questioning it. Because it was absolute, Merlin would wear whatever Arthur wanted him to wear. Because that was his duty as a Consort, to go and bend to his knees before the Prince and his whims.
"Here we are! I have gotten everything, I cannot wait to see how it looks on you. It's really a beautiful outfit! And I think it will look just as beautiful on you! And it's going to stand out, most people are probably going to wear bright colors since it is a time of peace. I don't know if you noticed but we got Morgana dressed in this beautiful blue dress, it really does bring out her eyes. With the purple wrap to add a splash of color to it! But black is a classy color, and I think it will make its own mark tonight!" Gwen continued to ramble, her arms filled to the brim with all the stuff they were going to use up at some point tonight. But Merlin thought she was may have been trying a bit too hard. Merlin knew that Gwen was great at her job, Morgana had certainly looked beautiful enough in her outfit, but…Merlin was no stranger to his looks. And she could be the most practiced and best suited to fix him up to the party's standards, but Merlin doubted even Gwen would be able to fix him up like he should be. Merlin could dress in the clothes, but that did nothing to fix his…everything. "And did I mention how much I really like this black color? I think it is going to go absolutely amazing when we try comparing it to your skin tone-"
Gwen suddenly let out a horrid gasp at her own insensitivity, and dropped all the belongings in her arms to scatter about on the bed as she brought her hands up to cup at her mouth in shock at herself. The horror that stretched along her face was enough to make Merlin flinch back in surprise, not able to understand why she looked so scared. And it took him far too long to realize she was talking about him…and the color of his skin against it…his pale skin surely, not the massively done black and purple molted splotches that covered half of his face. Merlin rose a hand up, brushing his fingertips right beside his right eye, where most of the damage was, and he winced as there was a sharper flare up of pain now that he'd touched it. His skin felt the same, if it wasn't for the pain he felt every time he moved his face, he may have forgotten it was there at all. But Gwen clearly hadn't, and she looked as if she was ashamed of herself. As if she thought she'd been insensitive for not screening her words before she dared to say them out loud, for fear that Merlin might do something rash due to the reminder. But Merlin wasn't going to be rash about anything, because he knew Gwen was talking about his regular face. And not the little gift Arthur had given him this afternoon. But Gwen was still horror stricken with what she'd said, and Merlin didn't want her to feel as bad as him.
"…I think that we should get started." Merlin said simply, as he smiled at her, to show that he wasn't offended by what she had said, there were so many worse things that could have been more directly said about it. But while he had his smile stretched wide, looking as toothy and as normal as it usually would-he kept his frozen smile up despite having a sudden rush of aching pain shoot through him that would've had a lesser man grimacing-there was something that was decidedly fixated about it. Merlin might smile, but there was no light in his eyes to show that he was truly happy. He did not even have a glimmer of a spark in his blue eyes that may have been mistaken for sincerity. He was just…blank…which Gwen noticed immediately. By god, did she notice, and her heart ached because she knew this wasn't Merlin. It wasn't the same Merlin that had came to her so many months ago, asking for help with Arthur's armor because he only wanted to impress him the first time he put it on him. And this…all of it was Arthur's fault. And perhaps her own as well, for being unable to do anything to fix this. "We wouldn't want to have my husband waiting for me tor long."
Gwen was still in a state of shock over herself, and she put her hands back down slowly, shakingly nodding. The other boy may have behaved cool headed-a first for Merlin-but even Gwen could detect the lack of warmth in Merlin's voice as he said 'my husband'. But she wasn't going to make the mistake of bringing Arthur up, because Merlin was right. He did not need to make the prince mad if they ended up late, though Gwen would proudly take the blame if she thought the prince would turn his ire onto her. Merlin had her loyalty after all, and he'd been through enough already, she would do anything to help him. But for now Gwen simply went back to work. Quickly rearranging all the fallen equipment onto the bed so that she could have a far better idea of what they had to work with.
X
"I know that this is very difficult, Merlin, and I am sure that it was not what you were thinking of, or expecting to have to do for tonight, but you simply cannot wear it. It has to go so we can get you properly prepared." Gwen said softly, trying to soothe Merlin who looked as if he was a tiger prowling it's way around a far too small cage. Even if Merlin was standing as still as could be, she could see it in the way his eyes were shooting from corner to corner in the room. Everything had been going simple, as they should be. Gwen had made sure everything was straight on the bed, straight enough that not even a ruler could have detected any un-straightness to the belongings. But then came the part where Merlin needed to start undressing. He'd kicked his boots off easily enough for her, they were shoved somewhere under the bed now. But …Merlin was having a bit more difficulties then he should be when it came to taking off the next article of clothing. Gwen had the patient of a saint though, and held out her hand for Merlin to give it to her, "I promise you, Merlin. It will be taken care of. I will leave it right here on your bedside table, and it will be here when you return."
Merlin still hesitated, his caged eyes flicking from corner to corner of the room once more, before he returned his eyes to Gwen and grudgingly nodded. He could sit here and fret to himself all night long, but it would not chance one thing in his life, would it? He would still have to-Merlin brushed his fingertips along the edge of his blue neckerchief-take it off if he was going to do this. He couldn't very well wear these clothes of a noble, and then march into that room with his very obvious peasant trinket. Merlin's fingers were shaking, though he did try to keep them still, as he slowly undid the cloth. Perhaps it was stupid, for him to be depressed about taking his neckerchief off for one night, but he sure did not feel stupid as he tugged it off. The cold brush of freezing air meeting the heated skin of his neck causing goosebumps to erupt along his throat. He had a lump grow deep and started 'throbbing' in his throat. And when Merlin placed it inside of Gwen's palm, he felt…lost. As if he was adrift on this random piece of driftwood in the middle of a great sea, with the sky so dark he had no hope of finding his way back home. Even if Merlin knew Gwen wasn't going to lose it like Arthur, who had carelessly lost his red one, he was still a bit sore about handing his stuff over to other people. Even as he watched her placing it on his nightstand just as she said she would. It would be there…waiting for him, Merlin thought sullenly. The consort could grab onto it, could breath in the soft scent of Ealdor it carried-though Merlin was sure it was nothing more then a memory, the actual scent long since faded-whenever he returned. It would at least be something for Merlin to try thinking about, something for him to hold onto, if everything started getting to be too much for him while he was there.
"Alright, then. Now, how do you want to do this?" Gwen said as she brushed her hands together, prepared to get straight into preparing him. She turned away from his nightstand to face him, her skirts swirling around her ankles as she smiled up at him. But Merlin's expression showed he was at a loss-completely and utterly-about what she meant. Merlin didn't exactly have any reference to somebody preparing him for a banquet. The closest thing he had…would have been getting prepared for his own wedding. And he had ended up doing a majority of the dressing himself, after kicking out those girls who worked for Madame Teresa and tried joining him behind the changing screen. And then there had been George, who spent half his time trying to convince Merlin it was going to be his greatest honor to dress Merlin in his everyday clothes …Merlin had kicked him out each and every time he'd tried to start in on him. But luckily, Gwen seemed to see just how awkward and lost he was, and smile reassuringly at him. "Do you want me to turn around and give you some privacy. You can get dressed, and then I'll just make sure that everything is in place for you."
Merlin felt his shoulder's drop in relief and he quickly, but silently, nodded his head up and down. Yes, that sounded a perfect solution to him, much better then Gwen trying to do things his own manservant had never done. Merlin might've been gay, but he didn't exactly what his best female friend to be helping him get undressed. Hell, Merlin didn't think he had ever had anyone see him naked other then his one and only mother. But even that had ended when he had gotten big enough to dress himself. It would've just been awkward, and Merlin was not sure he would have ever been able to go and look Gwen in the face again if she tried taking his shirt off or undoing his pants for him. But Gwen seemed to read him like a book, and knew exactly what he needed before he even tried saying what he needed. And the servant turned on her heel obediently, content to stare at the wall and him under her breath until Merlin indicated that he was ready for her to…make sure everything was in place. Merlin could only assume that meant Gwen would be tightening up the pants with the pins if they were too baggy around his tiny scrawny legs.
But as it turned out…Merlin would need her help to do even the simplest of things. And Gwen could not help but turn to face him when she heard the gasp of pain escaping from his lips, her worry overcoming any sense of privacy she told the consort she would give him, "Merlin, are you alrig-" and she stopped short, her eyes taking in the sight standing in front of her. Merlin had one arm out of his shirt, the bottom of the shirt bunched up on his shoulder, and was trying to pull the second arm out-his jacket already abandoned down by his feet-but he was having…difficulties. Gwen felt her increase in worry jumpstart her, seeing Merlin trying to slip his wrist-the fractured one-out of the sleeve. She hurried to his side in a moment's notice, hands far more gentler then anything Merlin had felt in a long time, and started helping him ease it off of him, "Here, let me. I don't want you to hurt yourself by doing this. What would Gaius say if he knew we'd somehow damaged you even more by just removing your shirt."
Gwen's little joke once again fell flat from her lips, it soured only because they both knew Arthur had done this to him. If it had happened by accident, perhaps Merlin falling down a few stairs and landing on it, then it would have been funnier then it was. But Merlin figured she was right, as she helped him ease it over his head, ducking down low so that she was able to pull it off his head…Gaius would not be as amused with finding Merlin having broken it completely from within what was supposed to be the safety of his room. But Merlin picked up the shirt he was suppose to wear, the cloth felt almost like a smooth river of water brushing his fingertips because of the satin it was made out of. Which was why he didn't pay attention when Gwen turned herself away from him. Looking as if she was simply folding up his regular shirt to place on the edge of the bed for him to find the next time he would need to wear it, when in reality…she was simply using the moment to subtly wipe a tear that was trying to leak from the corner of her eye.
It was taking everything for Gwen to not start brawling right then and there, feeling sympathy as it leaked out of every cell in her body. Whatever Morgana was going to do when she got to Arthur…she truly hoped that she gave him hell for what he had done to Merlin. How had Gwen not seen Arthur the reason for Merlin's distance and depression…how long had Arthur been isolating Merlin. The state of Merlin body after he had removed his shirt…it was absolutely horrid. She knew not all people were as lucky as the people that lived in the city boarders, but…she had never seen a body that was as gaunt as Merlin's was. It was impossible to miss just how much weight he had lost, but…she had missed 'exactly' how much he had lost. And this was recent too, pounds just shed from him over a short amount of time. Her hands shook hard as she brushed them down her skirt, trying to soothe out all the wrinkles from it, though really it was just a move to give her a bit more time to collect herself. Though all she wanted to do was storm down into the kitchens, and demand all the palace food she could get her hands on. Only the best in all the land would be good enough for their Consort. No…it was only the best would be good enough for her friend. Since it was clear Arthur didn't give a damn on rather or not his own consort was eating properly.
"Don't turn around quite yet, Gwen. I'm going to switch my pants, okay." Merlin's quiet voice behind her nearly made her jump, but she stayed strong, as she heard the rustling of Merlin undoing his pants. And she jerkingly nodded, just to let him know she had heard him. She wanted to turn around though, and hug him as if it would make everything be okay if she did. But a simple hug wouldn't fix anything, and Gwen could only stand here and wait till her best friend-yes, after all they have been through together and alone since Merlin had arrived in the city, he was her best friend-told him that he was done. It was selfish of her though, to also be relieved that he asked her to wait. Because it gave her a few minutes alone-as she squeezed her eyes shut tightly to block out all the little grunts Merlin made as he tried to jump his way into the pants, mindful of his fractured wrist-to collect herself so Merlin would not see her sorrow. And after several minutes of this had passed, far too long for a man with two working hands to pull up a pair of pants, but perfectly acceptable for a man who only had one working hand, Merlin called out for her, "Alright Gwen. I guess I'm done. I suppose you can work your…your magic on me, now. Make me pretty, as you said I could be."
Merlin's voice was unsure, as if the word 'pretty' was not a word that should ever come from his lips. But when Gwen whipped around, she had an easy going smile on her lips, and not a single tear lingering in her eye. That only lasted for a moment though, as her mouth dropped open into this silent gasp, her mouth forming a perfect 'O' as she took in Merlin for the very first time. But her reaction only caused Merlin to panic, the consort going ramrod straight before he looked down at himself, trying to see what she was seeing for himself. He…Merlin didn't really look that bad, did he? If it was that horrible, he might actually have better luck with his normal clothes! Surely Arthur would understand some people just weren't made to pull off the fancy look, and the consort would have to be one of them. But no matter which way Merlin tilted his head…he could not imagine why Gwen had reacted so strongly. He could only see the black top he wore that extended down towards his knees, with an equally black belt clinching the looser fabric into his waist. The little white embroider design that looked-fittingly enough-like the link of chains around the neckline of his throat, and while he could see it showed a bit more collarbone then he wished it did, it wasn't horribly revealing either. And dark black pants-which may need a few extra pins around the legs to prevent any bagginess from showing-that felt a big too snug for his comfort around his rump area. He had even put on the black boots that accompanied it, for god's sake-and they seemed to be exactly his size. But it just wasn't good enough, would it?
But looking down at himself…Merlin could only imagine that Gwen was right with her strong reaction. The only thing that Merlin wanted to do, his good hand curling into a fight tight enough that he could feel his nails trying to pierce the deep flesh of his palm…perhaps he should just rip the entire thing off of him, curl it into the tightest most messed up ball that he could, and chunk the entire thing out of the window. And just stand here in his underwear because he had absolutely nothing else that would have been good enough or suitable for him to wear. Before Merlin would have done it, just to get under Arthur's skin. Merlin ducked his head so that his hair could shadow across his eyes…something stopped him from doing exactly that. Arthur had called him a whore, after all, right before he had left Merlin in the street to deal with the fallout of what happened. If Merlin was going to be told that he was a whore without doing any whore things, then…with a low neckline and a tightness around his bum…he might as well go ahead and look the part, right? He might not have a body like a whore-he was a boy, after all, and being a whore had not one thing to do with his current heath-but he could wear all the stupidly tight clothes that tried its best to cling to him like a second skin.
But when Merlin looked up, his dead eyes were clear of any tears that might've been building up-he didn't think that he had anymore to shed, finally, before he said with that blank expression that betrayed the wry smirk he adopted, "What, I do not look that bad, so I?"
