This chapter is dedicated to Jacquelyn, who wanted to see Merlin apologizing to Bayard for accusing him of the poison and managing to get the secure the treaty despite all the trouble that's happened. So this chapter wouldn't even exist if they haven't sent me that idea, since it took a majority of it, and I loved the idea absolutely. Especially since I hadn't even considered Merlin meeting with Bayard again. I just figured he would be too busy healing to see them off but I like this alternative better. So I hope they enjoy how I wrote it out! It was a lot of fun.

This chapter is also dedicated to Seiramallipop, who wanted to see Bayard telling Uther he had his doubts about Arthur as a ruler, but he's convinced now that Merlin's there to rein the prince in

X

Gaius knew very well that Uther Pendragon was very rooted in what he would consider to be a fact. The sky was blue, the grass was green, magic was now and forever evil in the mind of man and the laws of the kingdom. There were just some things that weren't interchangeable, some things that needed to get drilled into the king's head before he deemed it truth. So easy, it was, for the king to believe a random maidservant who had no reason to harm others, was willing to use what she had been raised to believe as a dark force of nature to be used only by the depraved and the corrupted. So easy, was it to swallow a hated boy being related to one of the closest men the king might dare even go so far as to call a friend, if only because he was the only one to know what the king wished would stay in the shadows forever. But much harder was it for the king to admit a woman he disgraced, would come seeking her revenge so soon after her first attempt. There was very little in which Gaius could offer physical proof to the king of Nimueh's involvement. She had always been exceptionally good at hiding her tracks…it had been a miracle Gaius had discovered that one white shell she had forgotten behind in the waters she poisoned. The one she had bore her crest onto…

Gaius doubted very much that the woman was slipping. She had always been so meticulous in her spells…perhaps the spell that had sent her into exile was enough to knock her off her usual game, even after all these years? Gaius truly doubted this was the case. She had simply been unprepared to fail, not able to see the threat of a boy laid sickly in his chambers right this moment. The aged physician just knowing Nimueh was the cause for this…that right there meant it was most likely part of her plan. Nimueh had wanted somebody to know she'd been behind this, had wanted people to know she was strong enough to wreck their kingdom from the inside out, would want people to know not even a royal family with all their protection and numbers, was safe from her grasp. And the physician knew there was no other than himself, to get the message loud and clear.

Nimueh had always wanted to be known for her accomplishments.

It truly attested to her patience, for her to have waited all these years.

"It's like I told you, sire. Everybody who uses magic has a unique trace. Almost like a fingerprint, something that belongs uniquely to themselves. You may not like remembering my past, but there are some things that I cannot forsake like you would wish. And one of them is recognizing the handiwork of people I had been familiar with." Gaius said blandly, giving Uther a pointed look, saying with a single look about how he had denounced his magic all those years ago, to be given a chance to live while others of his kind had been prosecuted. There was no waver in his voice, no flicker of his eye that might have given Uther a cause to believe Gaius had went back on his vow. Using his magic to force a cure for Merlin to work, for the first time might he add, since the king's laws had gone into effect all those years ago. "Not to mention, the poison that tried taking my nephew's life, was made potent by the use of magic. There is only one witch I know of who is strong enough, and capable enough, to pull off this elaborate scheme."

One would think, Gaius thought as he watched Uther mentally grasping onto anything that would prove Gaius' assessment wrong, that the king would have been more opened to listening to his warnings. Not only because Gaius had an intimate knowledge on the subject of magic, something that would be next to impossible to find nowadays, but also because of Merlin's treatment. One may have thought Uther would have been bending over backwards to make sure he didn't pack up Merlin and disappear into the night without a word, something he could very well do if it was needed, anyway. But of course, Nimueh'd been that one subject Uther could never get past. The one woman alive who would know Uther as well as Gaius did. The one sorceress in the entire world, who'd know the truth of what had happened between her and the king all those many years ago. A threat that couldn't be contained. A threat that could ruin Uther's standing as a king should the truth ever get out. A truth that could bring their entire kingdom down onto their knees around them, should the people decide to rise up in reaction to this truth.

Nobody wanted to be ruled by a hypocritical king, after all.

"Perhaps she was involved with this, but why does that mean Bayard has not been swayed over to her side? Who's to say she didn't tempt him into doing this dark deed against the consort before he arrived in our borders?" The King decided to go with, and Gaius was already shaking his head before he got the chance to finish. It had already been discussed between Gwen and Leon and Gaius himself earlier…Bayard didn't have magic. One look at Bayard had been enough for Gaius to see he didn't carry the spark that came whenever one had the potential to become something greater than they were. "I do not know why you are telling me no. Bayard could have very well been conspiring with…her…to kill my son. She would have killed my son, had of course…Consort Merlin did not take his place in the line of duty. A consort must be willing to do what shall be right for the people, and Consort Merlin did show that with his actions. Who to say he wasn't also right when he accused the King? We cannot allow this to go unpunished, or allow anybody involved to just walk out of this kingdom."

And there it was, Uther somehow managing to question Gaius while trying to butter him up about Merlin. Only a true politician could have worded it in such a way that would both compliment him, and dismiss his expertise. And if it had been any other man Uther was talking to, something like that would've actually worked. Many people would rejoice and tell the story to their grandkids a good several decades down the line, about the time the King himself had given their family a personal compliment. Not just some generic thing being told to every man who crossed his path, in order to make sure nobody thought he was going out of his way to favor one family above the rest. But Gaius didn't enjoy being told his nephew was basically nothing but a sacrificial lamb, good enough for the royal family when it came to throwing his life in front of the first danger he saw. But not good enough to invite to his table personally, like a truly honored guest would've been. It hadn't escaped Gaius' notice that 'he' was the one the king had invited to sit at his table earlier, no mention of Merlin joining them the next time Uther felt inclined to have his children also sitting at his table.

"I'm not saying that this needs to go unpunished, and I'm not saying that this should be forgotten. My nephew almost died, it's something I won't forget for a long time coming." Gaius said in his ever calm tone, and Uther nodded with a hint of sympathy to his voice. Uther completely missed the tone of steel that matched his nephew, the sharp and glinting eyes of danger showing inside the usually calm eyes of the physician. Uther didn't hear the silent vow Gaius was making right this moment…the vow to make Merlin so much stronger. Far past that of a simple healer…Merlin still had magic that needed to be watched and trained. Merlin was going to be a fierce lion, when Gaius was done with him. A creature both nurturing and dangerous. A creature that could use gentleness to heal the wounded as easily as he could hide in the tall grass, a dangerous enemy nobody knew was there until he struck. A lamb, he most certainly was not going to be. "I'm simply saying that we need to make sure the right one is going to be punished. Just look what is happening all around you right now. It is something Nimueh would want to see, is it not? Camelot destroying itself as we fall into a war we do not have to go down, a war that will bring nothing but misery and strife to both parties involved. Is this what we want to go down in history, that Camelot was so easily tricked?"

Uther's face contorted into indecision, having to wrestle with himself, knowing the choice he made today was going to decide not only the fate of the entire kingdom, but the lives of millions and millions of people. Both soldiers and the others who would be caught in the crossfires of the war. Once again, unable to see Gaius eyes focused insanely on him…clearly blaming him in part for what's befallen his nephew. UTHER should be the one punished, and perhaps he'd be one of these days. But at least his nephew wouldn't be a casualty towards this war, not if Gaius could prevent the king from making the biggest mistake in his run as King. Not including his stance towards magic…

"Sir Cador," Uther suddenly called out, stepping forward to face his generals standing all around the table, apparently having came to a decision while the physician had been glaring at him. The response was almost instantaneous as the generals grew ramrod straight, falling into line as they fell silent. The one in the middle of the table-Sir Cador-was the only one with his hand pressed into a fist against his heart. A silent acknowledgement to the king calling out his name, the main general of the group and the one that had been strictly in charge of timing and location of their enemy. "Our scouts have already spotted Mercia's soldiers approaching in the west, have they not? How long is it going to take before these men reach our outer walls?"

It was almost a scary thought, the idea of so many men, probably hundreds in royal blue capes, marching across their lands right this moment. They were all safe at the moment, safely hidden behind the fortified walls within the city, but that kind of safety wasn't going to protect the others who didn't have that kind of protection. Was Mercia planning on marching straight to them? Or did they plan to wreck havoc on the way, taking out smaller outpost villages that lived too far away for the citizens to even attempt fleeing to the safety of the walls and the knights that kept them safe from total destruction and annihilation.

"At the pace the latest intelligence report suggests they were moving, I would wager it will only take them a day at most to get to us. Perhaps even less than that, if they don't get sidetracked with trying to take out any of the villages on the boarder." Sir Cador reported easily. He'd already studied the path that was the most likely for Mercia to take from the direction they were going, but it was also really depending on rather or not Mercia decided to change course for an attempt at a surprise encounter. "Might I suggest we send out a cavalry out to meet them before they have a chance to change trajectory or disappear out of our line of sight. Take them out before they have the opportunity to breech the walls of the city."

This would have been the right call to make in any other situation. The chance to even out the playing field by stretching their miles of space to fight in, and not being forcibly contained within the city. Able to attack them in a terrain of their choosing, able to surprise them by going after them instead of waiting for their arrival. So many different positives this act would do, far outweighing the cons of such a plan. And yet…Gaius was right. Doing this would be only falling into Nimueh's hands, if she really was the mastermind behind all of this. It was a strange thing, to see Uther swallowing his pride-the strongest thing the King held onto above all else-in order to cease the fighting before it had the chance to start.

"…Instruct your men not to leave the city unless I give the word." Uther said to the knight, but knowing there was a good chance he wasn't going to give any order to prepare for attack. He would tell the men he needed the night to sleep on his decision before making a real declaration in the morning, but that would be only to keep his men from questioning rather or not he was making any kind of drastic decisions. He,'more or less, already knew what was going to happen in the following few days. Total anarchy as he tried putting things back to right between Camelot and Mercia. The friction between them was definitely going to be the highest it had ever been in their history, but pulling back now meant there was a chance to save the lives of their people. "I will inform you on what our next move shall be come morning light. Until then, I want a frequent guard surrounding the perimeter. I don't want to chance Mercia having runners going ahead of them who will try to breach the city before the rest of their army gets here:"

This decision seemed to be good enough for Sir Cador, because he didn't try to argue against it. A possible strategic retreat could be the best they could've hoped for to avoid needless bloodshed, and the knight gave a low bow. This is what caused the other knights to bow low as well, following the lead of the one general stationed above the rest of them. One of the men rolled up this single piece of parchment where he had been making notations on the decisions they had been making before Gaius had interrupted them. And a second started to collect the pieces off the map, placing them in the beautifully ornate container they were kept in for safe keeping. While a third general rolled up the very map itself, in order to keep it someplace out of sight. All three men were chosen to hold onto these items, keeping them separated in different areas of the castle so their possible plans wouldn't be found out. It was better to show this air of caution, rather than realizing their was a traitor in their midst who would feed a plan of theirs to Mercia, giving the other kingdom the chance to come up with a proper counterattack to knock them back. But once everything was gathered up, the men bowed once again, before the ten generals were striding from the room in one straight line.

It was almost disturbing, seeing how they all moved in unison, working as one single unit even when they weren't on an actual battlefield. But years of having to work together for the betterment of Camelot, both behind the lines making the plans and in the frontlines of battle, tended to do that to a group of strong and capable men. Gaius and Uther both watched them go silently, waiting until the last man exited from the room. The heavy door slamming shut with a loud and ominous thud. It took everything Uther had to not change his mind, and go after them, demanding they set their items back out again so they could come up with the best defenses their kingdom had to offer. It was better for them to be paranoid and prepared, then trusting and foolish in hoping Mercia wouldn't still try to retaliate even if they release Bayard to them.

But Camelot hadn't been founded on starting wars against every kingdom that came to their boarders.

Sometimes, a peace meeting was better, if they wanted to preserve as many of the men as they could.

Releasing Bayard with their fullest apologies was probably the best they could do…hopefully once their king had been returned to them, they would see their attack on Camelot was pointless if they got what they were wanting.

The safe return of their King…

"You are making the right decision, sire." Gaius spoke in a low murmur, and the king held onto that phrase as tightly as he could. He hoped he was making the right decision, but that was the thing about being king. Nobody really did know what tomorrow was going to look like, or how the choices they had made a day before would reflect on what happens next. Releasing Bayard could have very well mean they were throwing away the one real bargaining chip they had, and what was to stop Mercia from attacking them after that anyway? Ruled by their fierce offense over Camelot's rash actions. "…Sire? I know that we've had this kind of discussion in the years past, but did you ever decide on what you were going to do. I know you wanted to wait until Arthur was old enough to be able to understand, but he's nearly twenty one. And married. He's a man. Albeit not a good one, but a man nonetheless. And now with Nimueh coming back out of the woodwork, and with the very real possibility that she might try something like this again…did you ever decide rather or not you were going to tell Arthur about her?"

It had been many years since they've had such a discussion. Gaius used to ask Uther all the time, back when Nimueh had first ran from the kingdom, if he was ever going to tell Arthur the truth about what happened all those years ago. He hadn't known if he ever would, if his son would ever understand the extremely tough position he had been in at the time. And truth be told, even twenty years worth of thinking about it, he still didn't know if Arthur would understand. Nor did he know if he himself was ready to speak the truth…Uther had spent many years re-building his kingdom from the ground up. Speaking the truth on how it had all came to be….he wasn't sure if he could do it. Not even if it was going to warn his son about the threat Nimueh was…

X

"And again, I do hope you understand how this was all a setup trying to get the both of us to fight. It's only by some miracle that it was discovered before any of the fighting can happen. So, my sincerest apologies. And hopefully, we will catch the sorceress who did this very soon. I've already got my best men out scouring the entire kingdom in search of her. With how much manpower I have put on this, I am sure we will catch her soon. And she'll be executed, so she's unable to meddle anymore in the affairs of the court."

Arthur Pendragon didn't say a word, standing by his father's side with his arms tucked behind his back in silent camaraderie. He didn't dare try to speak up to ask his father why he was lying to King Bayard, it seemed classless and would only jumpstart this war without a doubt, if Arthur pointed this out. He knew the right time to hold his tongue, even when he knew for a fact that his father had not sent out any men this fair morning. Especially since nobody had contacted him about the matter, considering he was the only knight that had actually got a real good look at her. And could give an adequate description. He was most positive that his father knew what he was doing. And if lying was the way that would best get them out of this situation, than lying would just have to be the reason they would get to walk away from Mercia without retributions from the King of Mercia demanding to be met.

Just like how Arthur was lying to his father…

Okay, maybe he wasn't actually lying to him. But lying by omission still made it sound as if he was lying. He should probably tell his father that Merlin was just as dangerous as Mercia could be, only in more subtle ways. That he was just a snake that could tempt the strongest of men into his bed…but then his father was going to know what he had done. And he'd be throwing Merlin under the carriage so to speak, by accusing him of such a thing. He'd had an entirety of a night to panic, pacing from one end of his room and back again as if he was still stuck in his cell. It had been enough time for Arthur to recognize that the boy was no snake. It was only Arthur trying to cast judgement and throw out accusations to hide the truth…he had wanted to kiss Merlin. Even if it was only a brief moment in time, fueled by anger and jealousy and possessiveness, he'd wanted to kiss Merlin. And by the gods, he hoped he would never be tempted into doing such an outrageous thing ever again for as long as he lived.

Which was difficult, when he was fighting against the urge to go see him down in Gaius' chambers every step of the way. Every minute was nothing more than a constant struggle, wanting to make sure Merlin was still breathing before him with his own eyes, see the rise and fall of his chest just so Arthur had a chance to breathe properly. Knowing he hadn't relapsed at some point during the brief hours of sleep Arthur was still sure he hadn't actually managed to get. Though who said Arthur couldn't learn new tricks…he knew he wouldn't be welcomed in that space again for quite some time. Knew he also wasn't near ready to see Merlin again, after the boy had made Arthur hold a knife to his throat and left him traumatized.

But not even close to how traumatized he had left Merlin.

He was surprised his father hadn't been able to see how troubled he was when he first arrived. Arthur felt like it was all over him, practically screaming for the people to look and point and know exactly what had occurred. But his king had other things on his mind then concerning himself with the state of Arthur's. So that could only be a good thing, it meant Uther would never have to know what should never be spoken out-loud, something that should exist only in the mind of Merlin and himself. But perhaps the reason Uther thought-if he realized his son was so tense at all-was because of the flower situation. The last time the prince had seen his father, after all, had been as he was crushing the flower he had gotten for Merlin into a pile of what he had thought was nothingness. The prince still couldn't look his father in the eye because of that, unable to ignore the pure hatred that had been on the king's face as he doomed Merlin to have his last few hours be the most painful they could be.

Needless to say, it was a very tense moment for Arthur Pendragon.

His heart had all but leaped into his throat when one of the servants-another servant, as Morris was not welcomed to return to the royal suite at this time-had saw fit to inform him of this important meeting. Uther was releasing King Bayard today, and all of his men. They were all standing outside at the Grand Stairs that led into the main part of the castle. At least two dozen of Camelot's men were standing in straight rows on top of the stairs. While he and his king was standing directly at the foot of them. Bayard, having been given the time needed to refresh himself into his kingly persona, stood in front of them with his three dozen or so knights and servants he had arrived with. Each far more ready to leave Camelot, the place where they could have died, as far back as they could.

Arthur couldn't say he blamed them.

He almost wanted to sneak into a wagon and escape with them while he still could.

It would be easier than his father ever seeing the truth.

And it was easier than ever seeing Merlin again, in the light of this new day.

"Ah yes, the witch that almost caused you to execute me and my people on the spot. We simply cannot have such a creature roaming around the kingdom as unchecked as she is." Bayard drawled out, forcing Arthur to hold back a wince that would have drawn attention straight to him. Yeah, he was pretty sure the king didn't really believe there was any witch, even after Uther had tried and explained what had happened. But that was probably because of the minimal detail Uther had used when describing the silent attack against the kingdom, Uther had talked a good game but it still sounded as if he was leaving a few pieces out of the story. One a King like Bayard would have caught. "I suppose we simply won't be returning to Camelot grounds anytime soon, for fear of her striking again the next time we enter your domain."

Arthur pressed his lips silently together as Uther nodded his head…he'd been pretty sure none of that was going to happen. Or more like. Mercia was never going to return to their lands. This was probably the last time he was going to ever see the thick blue color of their capes, indicating where they came from with pride. Arthur couldn't say he was entirely sorry to see them going, though they had been as much of a victim as all of them had been. In the schemes of that witch that had accosted him…the witch that wanted Merlin as his own…his heart squeezed painfully in his chest. Knowing he was in no position to protect Merlin due to the shambles of their relationship, but he'd been keeping an eye out all morning as well. And he'd yet to see neither hide nor hair of the one his consort had gained the attention of.

"And of course, young Arthur-" the prince went stiffer than he already was, as he was forced to snap to attention, when Bayard turned to address him for the first time since the failed banquet that nearly ruined everything. The King was looking at him with barely concealed distaste, and something in Arthur started to whither and die, despite having already expected a reaction like this. Arthur had nearly pulled a blade on the man when he'd been holding the lifeless body of his consort, ready to end his life without trial or hesitation right there. If his consort hadn't needed him more, Mercia would have gotten the way they were coming for…Mercia was expected to reach their doorstep within the hour. And they were hoping to have Bayard outside the gates by that point, to show them his safe return and have him leading the army back to his homeland. "I should hope you tell your consort how…sorry…I am that he wasn't able to come see us off. From what I understand, he's still very sick and recovering. He was…quite an interesting fella."

Arthur's jaw went tight, though he forced himself to swallow down his sharp retort to not mention Merlin in front of him with his dirty tongue, and clenched his hands tightly behind his back. Prevent a war…prevent a war…prevent a war, he kept repeating to himself within the safe confides of his head. He didn't like the way Bayard had said 'interesting fella'. Like it was meant to be some kind of backhanded insult. Didn't like the contempt growing far darker and deeper in the king's eye. Merlin had…Merlin had saved them all by his actions. They would have never discovered the witch responsible if Merlin had allowed Arthur-something he should've done-to drink the poison. If Uther had sent a team of men after the cure in order to save his only heir, then it was very likely the witch wouldn't have came out and revealed what she had. She'd probably only been encouraged by Arthur being a one man team, confident in her abilities to take out a simple knight. Something she would have succeeded in if that…light…hadn't appeared when it had.

But now wasn't the time to make a political statement by declaring Merlin and his sudden worth to the kingdom, something Merlin should've gotten mentions for since the very first time he had saved Arthur's life. Back when a witch had tried taking him out on their wedding day and Merlin had pulled him to safety…those days seemed so long ago. Bare of the tension and frustrations that was carried within them today. It was hard to imagine it had been only three short months ago, so much had happened since then. So much that Arthur would've wanted to take back, if only he could.

"Yes, King Bayard. My consort would have greatly wanted to be here himself as well, but like you said. He's recovering under the careful eye of our Royal physician. So I'm sure he'll be up and about soon enough." Arthur said in this tightly constrained voice, forcing his eye not to twitch in that uncontrollable way it usually did when he was in front of Merlin himself. Luckily, Bayard didn't seem to have the same effort over him. "Perhaps he will send you a letter one of these days, letting you know for himself that he has indeed recovered from the whole ordeal. So you don't spend your days worrying about him."

Bayard, with pursed lips and agitated eyes, gave a short and jerky nod towards the prince. This was all nothing but pleasantries, a means to stop a war before it could erupt on both sides. They both knew neither was going to happen any time soon. King Bayard of Mercia was not going to waste his time wondering if Merlin had re-taken his place as consort in the public's eye. And Merlin, being untrained as a consort as he was, wouldn't be sending any kind of off handed apology letter to the king himself, explaining how sorry he was for the major mistake he had made in believing Bayard was the poisoner. As if the evidence hadn't been pointing directly at one man this entire time, until the witch had revealed her hand to Arthur.

Arthur was so caught up with trying to get this over and done with so he could return to his sulking panic in his room, he didn't hear the movement of people from behind him. Didn't hear the quiet whispers and shifting of clothes from all his people standing on the stairs. Neither did Uther or Bayard it had seemed to be, as if they were in a bubble that encircled only the three of them. Not until a loud exclamation of surprise came from one of the younger knights as he was being jostled back to make room for the unexpected arrival of a man nobody in the crowd thought they were going to see anytime soon. Arthur twisted around not knowing what was going on…had the witch finally showed up? Was this the reason she hadn't shown up before now? Because she wanted to make a huge splash of attention, making sure everybody knew without a doubt that she had been here, before taking his consort away to wherever she had came from.

Arthur's heart had gone straight up into his throat.

And it stayed there, even when he saw it wasn't the sorceress.

No…it was probably something so much more worse.

Merlin.

And for a second…Arthur could have sworn he was standing in another time and place. Could have sworn time had shot backwards several days, and he was now standing at the foot of the grand staircase inside the castle…where he had been standing around waiting for Merlin to show up to the banquet for what had felt like forever. Waiting until Merlin had showed up on the top step, dressed like some kind of courtesan and looking down his nose at Arthur, as if Arthur should have been the one getting down on his knees to worship what it was in front of him.

Merlin didn't look like that now.

But that didn't stop the unsettled jolt of heat and fear that shot throughout his stomach when he saw Merlin Pendragon for the first time since their ill-fated talk a couple of days before. The dozen or so knights standing between them and him had separated in two lines on either side of the staircase, creating a pathway for the ill Merlin to walk down. And god, did he still look sick. A light sheen of sweat sticking to his cheeks, dressed in his regular clothes now, even if they looked droopy around his frame. His knees slightly bent as if he'd been about to fall over if he tried walking again. A thin and raggedy blanket around his shoulders in order to keep him warm, though there was no real actual chill in the air. There were bags underneath his eyes, the bruises Arthur had left on his face had healed some more but still shone sickly when the sunlight would hit it in the right direction. And Gaius was there as well, Merlin grasping onto his hand as if he had needed Gaius' help to walk all the way there, with the old physician looking disapproving of what Merlin was doing.

What WAS Merlin doing, Arthur thought in a surge of panic as he glanced over to his father and the other king. But both men looked as equally perplexed by his presence and state of appearance, Uther looked as if he had swallowed his tongue while King Bayard lifted a curious eyebrow. The prince swallowed hard past the lump of his throat…he had to remind himself that Merlin wasn't going to be here to cause trouble. It was hard to shake off the thoughts that said he was only here to embarrass Arthur, that he was here to make his life hell…he'd deserve it though, it that was the reason Merlin was here. He would deserve it if Merlin just blurted out the fact that Arthur had…had…pressed lips against his own, right in front of his father. But Merlin wasn't like that. After everything he had learned in the last week…that didn't even sound like something Merlin was going to do. If Merlin was here, then he was here for a reason. A reason Arthur knew probably didn't include him…

So then why…

Arthur held his breath as he watched Merlin taking a shuddering breath before he stood himself straight up., straightening out his shoulders and pushing his slim frame back. Arthur made a half aborted motion towards him, because he looked like he was hurting. Like one gust of wind would be enough to throw his consort off the staircase itself, right over the banister several feet away. But a sound of pain or gasp of discomfort or collapsing from sheer exhaustion didn't happen. Merlin was made out of stronger stuff than that, not letting others see how much he was bothered. Arthur clenched his jaw right as he saw Merlin removing his hand from Gaius strong hold, removing the blanket from around his shoulders-which was another thing Arthur had to swallow back screaming about, because didn't the boy realize how cold he looked? And what if he got even sicker than he was now because he was outside-and handed it off to his Uncle Gaius to fold over his arm.

The physician stayed in his spot at the top of the stairs, which Arthur thought was an incredibly dumb idea. Just like it was dumb for Merlin to be here at all, because what if he fell straight down the stairs? What if his body hit each and every step on the way down, until his head smashed open like it wasn't a thing more then a melon, cracking open and spilling forth brain and blood directly at Arthur's feet. Nobody else seemed to share the same concern as Arthur, but it was also eerily quiet. More quiet than the courtyard had probably been since it was created. Arthur couldn't take his eyes off of Merlin as he was walking slow down the steps, it was clearly a progress getting down them. And it seemed as if Arthur wasn't the only one who couldn't remove their eyes from Merlin's slim form.

There was a certain…grace, in the way Merlin was walking. Arthur didn't want to call it that exactly, but as Merlin moved downward to where Arthur and the kings stood, then yeah…it could have only been described as graceful. Merlin looked strong, standing tall despite his clearly weak state. Looking almost like he was eternal, a fairy creature forced to live amongst men that didn't have a right to be in his presence. He looked…like a consort. Messed up clothes that barely hung on his frame and all. Everybody seemed to be holding their breath as they knew, just as Arthur knew, one word might be enough to shatter apart the illusion Merlin had seemed to cast on everybody there with his presence.

It took an infinity before Merlin finally reached the last few steps, but when he did, Arthur glanced back over to his father. And swallowed hard…his hand was practically shaking at his side before he forced it still. And stepped forward…it was a common enough tradition. For a gentlemen to help their…bride…with a certain matter such as this. Pulling their chair out for them to sit. Helping them down the final few steps so they wouldn't trip in their heels. Not that his young consort would have that sort of problem, but Merlin was clumsy enough when he wasn't wearing a pair of women's heels. But when Arthur held out his hand, half expecting Merlin to take it simply because it was expected of him, it came near impossible for Arthur to not remember the last time his hand had touched Merlin's. When Merlin had cupped his hand around Arthur's, forcing the blond prince to hold a scalpel to his throat and end his life right then and there…and Arthur wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed when Merlin ignored the hand completely.

Arthur couldn't even let out a breath of relief, terrified of what his reaction was going to be if he had Merlin's slimmer hand joining with his own, when the boy simply walked past him. Not sparing Arthur a single glance in his direction…the prince might as well have been a ghost, for all the attention Merlin had gave to him. Nothing more than a phantom. Just something for Merlin to see through, an invisible entity for Merlin to ignore. Somebody that was nothing more than a slug that accidentally got squished just because it was simply too small to see properly. Arthur nearly shrunk into himself, his hand falling down limply by his side, knowing he had been stupid to even try playing the usual games the two of them were usually forced to abide by in front of the court's eyes.

Merlin didn't stop walking even as he left Arthur staring at his backside, till he reached King Bayard and King Uther. There was another long stretch of silence where nobody knew what was going to happen. Neither king spoke a word and they were clearly waiting for Merlin to do something. For Merlin, as he'd been the one to interrupt them, to make the first move. And he did…the eyes of the prince's going wide and his face stalk white, accompanied by many shocked and horrified gasps ripping from the throats of everybody watching like some kind of chain reaction…

Merlin had just bowed deeply, tucking his arm behind his back. It wasn't at all like the stance of the consort he'd just been emitting. This was…this looked to be the posture of a peasant. Worse than a peasant…it was the stance one took when they were a servant. Bent low so his nose was angled with the ground. It was Merlin all but lowering himself onto the dirt, rolling over, and showing both kings his belly. Uther's face flushed with embarrassed anger, but he didn't say a word still, and Arthur resisted the urge to grab Merlin by the shoulders so he could force him back straight. He remembered Merlin's reaction and the way he had screamed the last time Arthur had initiated contact, but…Merlin should not be all but propositioning himself before the king's mercy as if he was just a common man among them.

"…I understand that you are new to being Consort, Consort Merlin. But I'd think even you would realize this isn't how a consort of your status to behave when in front of a guest in your home." King Bayard was the first to speak out, and it was clear he was in no mood to give allowances or helpful instructions to try to combat against Merlin's newness to the position. Not like he'd been when he'd first met Merlin all those days ago. Gossiping and happily talking along as if he was an old hen. "A consort to a prince should never debase himself, or make it seem as if somebody else is in charge. If I were a lesser man, I might try taking advantage of the situation and your subservient attitude."

Arthur's jaw went tight, darting his eyes between the tension that hovered in-between Bayard and his consort. Bayard wasn't wrong. Any other noble would have seen this as a weakness and descended on Merlin as if they were nothing but a shark scenting fresh blood in the waters. But Bayard also couldn't just go out and say something like that! That was why Arthur was there…that's why he should have been there all this time…to protect Merlin from making an obvious mistake such as this one had been. Arthur should probably move forward right this minute, drag Merlin somewhere behind him to prevent Bayard's harshness from reaching him, and growl that it was probably time for him to go now. But Arthur's feet was rooted to the ground, torn between doing what would have been the right thing to do for once, but was so much harder. And staying right where he was, the easier choice. Cowering from making any sudden moves on his consort with the crowds watching, feeling as if they would be inspecting all his interactions with Merlin from now on. Arthur had never been so concerned about the people watching as he was now, erupting cowardly nerves inside the pit of his stomach.

"I wouldn't exactly call myself being subservient by doing this." Merlin spoke up before Arthur could work up the course to move, his voice eerily calm but exhausted, not raising his head as he spoke in a low murmur. Which looked to be pretty subservient to Arthur, something a consort should never be. Since a consort was supposed to emit the power of the crown, be a gentle hand to the ones that wouldn't survive under Arthur's-the next king-heavy hand. Stronger than all the rest simply because He himself knew he was far above even those considered the highest of nobles. "I'm doing this simply to prove a point. And show that I'm not just a consort who knows the steps of this exhausting game all you nobles seem keen on playing. As if the rules are common sense when it is in fact, not very common at all."

Arthur shot panicked eyes towards his father, not entirely for sure if he should be stopping this, whatever this was, before it got too out of hand. But his own father was of no help. If the man looked as if he had swallowed his tongue then it now looked as if he had swallowed a lemon. And a melon. And perhaps even a particularly large grapefruit for his troubles. But nobody else also seemed to know how to react to Merlin's declaration, Bayard's eyebrow had arched as far up as it would go, practically disappearing somewhere in his hairline. A Noble should never admit they didn't understand the delicate rules that all those of a noble heritage played by, and most definitely shouldn't be comparing their way of life to a game. As if they were children playing around and not men who had to juggle their standing in the court at all times, just to make sure they did not fall below the ranks worth noticing. And yet, that was exactly what Merlin was doing. Merlin himself didn't seem to care about the upset that had started to rumble through the crowd of Camelot soldiers, sharing uncanny looks of awful horror and distaste at Merlin's brazen attitude.

"I'm doing this because I'm also a peasant. And I was raised knowing how one needs to own up to their own mistakes. Instead of hiding as if they hadn't done a thing wrong." Merlin spoke up, ignoring the quiet rumbling going on from the soldiers as he finally straightened back up without Arthur's help in anyway, his shoulders pushed back as if he knew exactly what to say. "I came down to this meeting not because I wanted pity for my weakened state. Or hoping it would give you pause and perhaps you will show us mercy if you were inclined with starting a war. That would be nothing but manipulation, and I've been told that I show too much emotion on my face to do something like that-" and here, the consort finally looked back. But not at Arthur. Somewhere over the shoulder of the prince…to Gaius. A fond smile briefly touching his lips before it faded…that clearly meant it was something Gaius had told him. Perhaps even just seconds before the consort had managed to talk him into helping him get down here. It was in the next second that Merlin was turning back to Bayard, continuing as if he had never stopped. "I'm only here because I would like to give you a formal apology for accusing you of poisoning my husband's goblet. Yes, his cup had the poison, but I acted rashly and without thought to accuse you openly, not giving you a chance to defend yourself or anything. I can try to make excuses by saying I'm young and I'll learn how to react to things like that better in the future, but that would be all they are. Nothing but excuses, and I don't make it a habit to excuse myself from my responsibility. Or at least I try not to. Though the one thing I can do, big as it is when I'm in no position to ask for favors, will be asking you to not lash any injustice out on Camelot. It was me who's gone and offended you and your kingdom, and Camelot was only behaving to what I was doing. Don't take it out on a kingdom where many people had nothing to do with any of this."

Arthur felt his breathing escape him, looking almost…dumbstruck, by what the consort was saying. Yes, there were a few things here and there that could've used polishing up. Perhaps using a few more longer words that would've made the speech sound so much more intelligent than it had. But perhaps, that was why the speech had landed as hard as it did. Because Merlin wasn't trying his hardest to make it sound as if he had practiced this speech at least fifty times in the washroom mirror just to make sure he got it right. He sounded earnest…a rare thing that one might never find within the court. A diamond in the rough, if you would. Something that took pride in being coated in dirt and scratches till somebody got curious enough to shake some of the dirt off to see just how the jewel gleamed beneath the surface.

"…You wish to debase yourself for people who would wish to see you be put on a crucifix and suffer simply for existing?" Bayard drawled out, his brows going furrowed together in thought. But…that wasn't right, Arthur thought. Nobody wanted to see his consort crucified. Nobody except for…Arthur winced, he just knew Bayard was talking about him. The king had made his dislike for him very clear during the banquet. Had Arthur's real feelings towards Merlin really been that transparent? Where even a stranger was able to see they had been having problems for quite the long time. Problems that…Arthur feared would never go away like he wished them too. "I do hope you know that strategy isn't doing a good job at selling yourself. It would be seen as easy, to attack a kingdom that has such a weak consort near the throne. So tell me, Merlin. Why do you think appearing weak before me is going to do anything? Wouldn't it be easier to go and, how did you put it…hide away? While allowing your husband to speak out on your behalf if you were so keen on apologizing."

Another good point, it would have been easy for Merlin to send a letter to the prince or something, telling him what he wanted him to do. Rather than come here and do it himself. Appearances had always been such an important thing in the noble class, and appearing weak never endeared another noble to them, especially if they were trying to get something from them. People only listened to strength, or at least that was what Arthur had always been raised to believe by his father. But Merlin didn't seem at all concerned about being seen as the weaker partner. In fact, Merlin only seemed to stand himself up straighter, and dared to look Bayard in the eye like one would if they were equals.

"I'm telling you now, King Bayard, that I've never been very good at doing what is expected of me. Or doing what other people would've done. Perhaps I can't afford to be just another face in the crowd no matter how much I wish I could simply fade into the background. I debase myself, as you said; because there are women and children, families, here. And I would not want them to end up torn apart because I was too much of a coward to face you myself." Spoke the consort, tilting his head up with a defiant gleam in his eye. The kind of look on a man's face that said, I might fall down today, but you can sure as hell believe I will go down fighting. "Besides, those who would have husbands to speak up on their behalf are usually women. And I have been told time and time again of how off my union with Arthur is because of my gender. I am no woman, and I'd like to not be treated like one. Women are usually made to simply be fit in the background somewhere, looking to be nothing but decorative goods, sad as it is. The women back in my village work just as hard as any of the men; so I am sure you can understand how strange it is to come here and see things being so different in other parts of the world. I'm sure if we allowed women to have a say in the things that go on around this kingdom, we might even have far less issues than we seem to do now. But getting back to my point…I do not allow to have my husband speaking on my behalf. I am perfectly capable of doing it for myself, and have every intention of doing it for myself for as long as I'm able. I can apologize for my own actions without having somebody shield me when I have never been shielded from the horrors of the world a day in my life."

Arthur blinked once. And then twice. And then he blinked a few more times as something about Merlin's latest speech tugged at his heart. He didn't know on which part he should even be focused on. Should he think about the way that Merlin had said he didn't want any families torn apart on his behalf, when he'd been torn apart from his own family. Kidnapped. Just to be Arthur's one bride …forgive him…groom. As Merlin had just said he didn't want to be treated like a woman. And bride was quite obviously a feminine tone that Arthur had never quite yet rested. And speaking of women…it had been so bold of Merlin to be poking at such a controversial topic. Describing them as 'decorative goods', a fact that many men probably thrived on. But most would hardly dare admit the sexism out loud. But then to have the gall to say there would be less issues if a woman could be in charge…Merlin was truly not a girl. Not when he seemed to have balls made out of pure steel. And then he had gone on to say he did not allow Arthur to speak for him…

That little fact should have bothered Arthur so much more than it did. But this didn't bother him at all. He almost, dare he even think it…LIKED, the idea of his consort not needing Arthur to speak for him. That was one of the things Arthur had found most annoying when he had first heard he was getting married. Not having to talk for somebody else when he had other more important things to focus his attention on almost sounded like a godsend. But then again, that was also before he'd met Merlin. Before he'd gotten so obsessed he felt as if it was impossible to breathe in his presence. Before he had acted out his obsession in the form of a kiss…the prince shook his head frantically to get that thought out of his head. Where it never should have been. He should be more focused on what was going on ahead of him. Or more focused on…Merlin explaining the way the women in this little no name village worked like the men. Or how he'd never been shielded from the horrors of the world…and knowing himself to be at least a partial, if not the majority, of horror Merlin had been talking about.

Those small details were little facts into Merlin's life and who he'd been long before Arthur had sunk his claws into him. Like little windows being carved out of Merlin's head and allowing Arthur to get a peek at things he shouldn't even want to look at. How could he want somebody to be able to handle themselves and give Arthur one less thing to worry about, but also want to know every one of the little facts that 'they' worried about. It was a conflicting mess that would see no end, leaving Arthur at a standstill simply because he didn't know how to react or what to do with each little fact he managed to commit to memory.

"Hmmm," Bayard said, rubbing his chin with his hand as this contemplative expression appeared on his face. Easily regaining the attention of the men and forcing Arthur's eyes to drag themselves away from his worrisome consort. "A favor like you are asking me is quite a big request. Not one I would've usually been interested in fulfilling for one who has caused as much trouble as you've had. You really should watch yourself, Consort Merlin. Your peasant heritage is perhaps showing more than you'd want it too. Or perhaps, you would like for it to show even brighter than the consort title you've been given. I don't believe I have ever met a noble, even one who is new money, similar to yourself, who is willing to apologize. They would rather fight to the bitter end just to prove they were right, than admit they were actually wrong. Quite a rarity, you seem to be …Consort Merlin."

The crowd of Camelot soldiers seemed to tense and share conflicting looks on their faces behind Arthur…King Bayard had made Merlin's favor-not to start a war against their kingdom-was too big for Merlin to ask. As in…he was likely to return to their door with his army instead of leaving with them. Talking a good game to Uther so he and his men can return to their army and show back up to blast cannon fire at their walls right when they finally start relaxing. But Arthur bristled for an entirely different reason…Merlin had came all the way out here, risking his health in the state he was in, just to ask for one thing. The least the king could do was agree to give him that one thing. Hell. Arthur was so fucked up in the head, so messed up with his conflicting thoughts over Merlin, he may have been willing to sign the kingdom itself into Merlin's hands. If Merlin asked him at a bad time, where he was too overcome with emotion to think for even a single proper second. And to add salt to the wound, it sounded as if that King was trying to make some backhanded insult to Merlin. Seeming to be mocking the same peasant heritage Arthur had lamented over for so long. Telling Merlin he was a rarity…and by the gods, was he that. But Bayard had sounded far too silky smooth for his taste. Deceptive. Snake-like. Perhaps not always the jolly friendly king he had portrayed when he first arrived in their kingdom. It almost immediately set Arthur's teeth on edge.

And what the fuck did it mean…his consort should 'watch himself?'

Was that some kind of threat?

"I suppose the fact that you are standing before me right now, asking me not to hurt a kingdom that doesn't seem to care for you, really does attest to your character. As hard pressed as it is for a man to be caught apologizing, I'd like to believe it's even harder to find somebody who's genuine about what they are apologizing for." And to everybody's surprise, they could see Bayard was starting to smile. His eyes going a bit softer in the middle compared to what they had looked like when Merlin had first shown up. Arthur himself could feel his jaw starting to loosen up some, gaping a bit at the scene before him. He'd been half expecting he would be needed to jump in at some point, after Merlin had his chance to speak for once, so Merlin wouldn't have to hear anymore of the awful words Bayard was sure to spew at him. But what he hadn't expected to see was Bayard looking…mildly impressed. "I believe, Consort Merlin, that it takes a real man to see his mistakes and then seeks to repair them. There's so many noblemen who would allow their pride to fester away something that may easily be fixed, if they gave thought to the proper wording."

So maybe Bayard…wasn't threatening Merlin?

But that was…Arthur looked back at his father once again, who seemed to be caught in a state of surprise just as Arthur himself was. It felt as if they were in some kind of strange alternative universe. One where a king used the title that had been given to a peasant, with a lot less mocking and much more respect…calling Merlin out as a real man. This caused Arthur to study his consort once again and maybe it was just him but…he didn't see a man. He simply saw this boy, tired and broken by the life's circumstances that Arthur had heaped with violence onto him. A boy that was apparently much stronger than he himself was, a wry smile filtering on Merlin's lips.

"Just give me time, you'll see that I can usually never get the proper wording to go right. It usually ends up becoming a disaster, as I'm sure people who's heard me talk can attest too." Merlin said in an incredibly dry tone, but Arthur couldn't help but think Merlin was both right…and completely wrong. Yes, his wording usually got him into trouble whenever he got himself involved in the things he probably shouldn't have. But that was only because Merlin wouldn't mince words or try looking for ways to not offend people like a born noble was trained to do. He said things just like he was saying things now…earnest. And not fearing the consequences that might come at him. Merlin himself had done managed to convince Uther, a month ago, into giving him a chance to prove to him that Gwen was innocent of the charges against her. Sure, his father went with it only because he wanted an excuse to get rid of Merlin, but the fact that Uther had been swayed into agreeing with anything had been a miracle within itself. And then having actually gone out and proved what the truth was…he'd done it again too. Right now. Somehow managing to soften the hard king in a manner of words. Had proved what he had been saying about the poison being in Arthur's cup was true…perhaps Merlin's delivery didn't need any working on at all. Not if he got the results that he did. "Besides, I don't really have much in the way of pride like these nobles have. I know what it means to get my hands in the dirt and work beside people that don't have much to give. I have literally nothing to lose by having come here. I know the favor I asked you was big, and the treaty you came here for could have solved a lot of our problems. Those in both Mercia and Camelot could have benefitted from it greatly. So even if such a thing never happens, I thank you for coming all this way and allowing us the opportunity. I'm only sorry that things didn't work out like they should have."

Things working out like they should…Arthur thought. Right this minute, all of Camelot should have been celebrating. They should have been waiting for the ink to dry on the parchment the kings have signed, waved Bayard off to return back to his kingdom, and started out a new course where the two kingdoms is somehow friendly towards the other. Tensions abated between their kingdoms so no more fights or bloodshed would break out if the two ever encountered the other when outside their respective kingdoms. Sometimes though, things just didn't turn out the way people expected. Merlin, for example, wasn't the kind of person Arthur had expected. He honestly didn't know what kind of boy Merlin was…he still needed to sort through what he had thought he knew and what he now knew. Pick apart which parts had been completely fabricated due to Arthur's hatred, and which parts actually were Merlin, little as those may've been. He just needed to…he just needed to…there was very little he could do when Merlin didn't want him around. Arthur wasn't even sure if he wanted to be around. Not right now at least. Not when things were so confusing. Maybe he would be calmer once he's had a few weeks to come to terms with the idea of Merlin…always being exactly who he said he was. Instead of the manipulator Arthur had decided he was with no context other than hatred.

"Hmmm, yes. I suppose things haven't worked out at all like we've planned for them too." Bayard commented in an airy tone that Arthur once again decided he didn't like. This could be Bayard's way of placing blame on Merlin, blaming him for their treaty having fallen through. When…it hadn't been his fault. None of it had been his fault…Arthur almost felt like he had whiplash from admitting something like that. He had been blaming Merlin for everything for so long, he felt strange now knowing the opposite. The only person that should be hated or blamed was the witch that had involved herself in royal affairs. "…I do hope you remember our conversation when we first met. And how I mentioned I have heard stories on my travels here, detailing the deeds that a Merlin Pendragon has done during his time here. Speaking out against snake monsters…getting involved in a plague that should have ended you all…though that last one was controversial. Some people claiming you were needed to put an end to it, and others claiming you were simply lying about how involved you were in order to get attention for yourself."

Merlin had the decency to scowl about the rumors spreading throughout the land on Camelot's mysterious consort, being spoken from people who'd not crossed paths with him a day in their life's. But Arthur was positively starting to bristle, he remembered very well when Bayard had first brought that stuff up during their first meeting. But he didn't remember having a reaction nearly as intense as his was now. He wanted to demand exactly what village Bayard had been in when he was gathering information on his consort from unreliable sources. He wanted their physical descriptions, their names, what they did for a living…he wanted to know if they had a third cousin once removed who ever ended up arrested by the royal guard before. Pretty much anything and every thing he could scrounge up on the fools spreading such tales. And let them all know face to face that Merlin had actually been quite vital in saving the entire kingdom. It was…a very little thing Arthur could do, considering all of the crap he had been putting Merlin through. And he would gladly tell Bayard himself if only so the king didn't leave with any misconceptions on the role Merlin's been playing in Camelot's history, with or without proper acknowledgement.

"When I first met you, I thought those stories might have been exaggerated with great interest, or were downright wrong. But perhaps…you claim to stand up for yourself instead of allowing your husband to do it for you, and you have no problem standing before me because your…peasant heritage…tells you that you can stand on your own. But I think those traits can also fit in quite nicely to the man baring the title of Consort." Bayard commented, and Consort Merlin Pendragon rolled his shoulders back to ease the ache forming in his extremely tight muscle. His brows furrowed together…for so long, Merlin had trouble with deciding who and what he was. Was he a Consort, destined to help rule one of the greatest kingdoms in the world? Was he a sorcerer, doomed to protect the husband that hated him from the shadows for the rest of his life? Or would he be only a peasant, unable to claim any title or specific skill, but happy because it was the only real life he knew. He'd came here with every intention of trying to reclaim his peasant roots. But in the progress…he had somehow ended up likened to a Consort…a proper consort. Merlin didn't know what he was meant to think about that, struggling as he may to separate the three half's of himself from the other. In a perfect world, Merlin may have been able to live with all of these separate beings being a part of himself, able to switch between them as effortlessly as a court jester shifting between his parts in an act. But this was not a perfect world, and as far as Merlin was concerned…he couldn't be only a one man show. If he was consort, then his peasant heritage would be taken to the abyss without him. But if he was peasant, he wouldn't have even gotten to the king this way. And if he was sorcerer…there was no going back to either of these factors. "Perhaps we should add another title onto the list of derogatory comments people seem to be making about you. Perhaps instead of knowing you as the boy that stirs up trouble, maybe you could be…the boy who makes things happen."

There was a collective gasp from all around them, mostly coming from those that wore a red cape…Merlin himself felt the breath escaping his lungs as he felt Arthur moving somewhere behind him. If Bayard didn't sound so genuine about this, Merlin might have thought he was mocking him. It wouldn't be the first time a noble had mocked him in front of court (cough cough Valiant cough cough) and it most likely wouldn't be the last time either. But Bayard sounded as if he had actually meant something by it…as if it was a statement he should have been proud of. The Boy Who Made Things Happen. It wasn't a statement that was wrong. But it felt strange, all the same. As if Merlin was wearing some shirt that was several sizes too small for his thin frame. Not exactly the sort of title Merlin thought he could get behind, but it also wasn't as bad as any of the others that had been foisted upon him.

"I think I would like to sign the treaty now."

Bayard's strong voice echoed over the crowd of onlookers watching, and the consort whipped his head back up, his eyes feeling as if they were about to go rolling straight out of their sockets. He vaguely heard the prince emitting a startled hiss of surprise from behind him, but he didn't otherwise acknowledge him…it was an unexpected twist to the story Merlin had been weaving before those of them who would remember back on this day. He hadn't came down here trying to hold onto any delusions that Bayard might still be swayed into signing that dratted treaty. He had figured that offer was completely, one hundred percent off the table. The least Merlin had been hoping to do was extending a rightful apology, even if it didn't stop an inevitable war from breaking out.

"YOU WOULD!" Uther's strong voice also echoed throughout the onlookers, a shock that was quite palpable shooting through the air. Like Merlin, he hardly considered there would be a possibility for the treaty being signed. It was just something that was going to be a known failed attempt, something to be put in the records as a warning to not attempt it again. At least not for a few decades or so, where hopefully tempers would have cooled off as new kings-Arthur or perhaps one of his children, in Camelot's case-took their places. The knights behind them lost all reason or attempt at being respectfully quiet as both blue and red started hissing at each other with urgent whispers, clearly trying to do their best to determine if this was really happening. Or if Bayard was playing a messed up joke on them. Kings usually didn't agree to peace treaties after the group had been treated like nothing more than common criminals. "You would really be willing to sign the treaty after all? Even after all this kingdom's gone and put you and yours through over these last few days?"

Uther's suspicious nature was coming into play, assuming like all the others, that this was nothing more than a messed up joke. But Merlin could tell that it was anything but. Bayard had always seemed like a pretty chill guy, maybe he was even a joker by nature. But this…this was something not even Bayard was going to joke about. The seriousness in Bayard's blue eyed gaze matching with Merlin's own…was Bayard…? Merlin's heart had gone up in his throat, surely he hadn't decided to change the treaty simply because of Merlin. Maybe he really did only want the protection that came with their words and agreement being marked down on parchment. It was ludicrous to even consider…Bayard would do this simply because Merlin had interrupted yet another meeting. Something he was usually scorned and mocked for. To think he had the power to actually influence a king…

Power that didn't come from magic spells and strange words that could send a chill up one's spine.

"Yes, well. Perhaps these last few days can be simply chalked up to one crazy adventure that grew out of hand." Bayard said, waving one of his hands in this dismissive way, as if a wave of his hand could clear away everything those who came from Mercia had lived through. Merlin had been down in those cells, he'd experienced the exposure of something wicked that drained his magic straight out of him…he didn't think he would wish his worse enemy to be stuck down in such a dreadful place. Living life with nothing but the smallest window to show him nothing more than feet walking by, definitely hadn't sounded like any kind of adventure to him. "And I do admit…I did have some doubts about needing to sign this treaty to begin with. I was going along with it for the sake of our men, and knowing Arthur Pendragon was going to be the one to inherit the treaty is not something that installed me with much confidence. Your young…Arthur…is not the type of man I would want to make dealings with, yet along somebody I would wish to work with to ensure the peace should he take up your kingship anytime soon."

Uther's jawline went rigid at the clear insult being given to his son, but Arthur Pendragon understood immediately what the king meant. Especially when he saw King Bayard's eyes flicking briefly across the bruises still decorating the side of his consort's face. Perhaps Uther expected for Arthur to try defending himself just as Merlin had, which was why he didn't say anything…a prince had to make his own connections, because the ones his father made would hardly respect him as king if he couldn't earn their respect for himself…but the blond prince didn't even try. His shoulders almost sagged forward with the shame of what he had done hitting him once again. Bayard might have been discreet on the details, but Arthur had gotten the message loud and clear. He didn't like to make deals with…abusers. He didn't want to make deals with a man who would hit their spouses as if it was the easiest thing in the world. His hands had hurt Merlin, and he tucked them behind his back. He didn't know if he'd ever trust himself to be near Merlin again without somehow hurting him. Even if he didn't do it physically or…sexually…

"But seeing your consort here has given me actual hope for Camelot's future…a man who could drink poison and still face me afterwards just to keep his own kingdom safe…that's the kind of man I would want to keep an eye on. And how can I do that if I forsake Camelot completely." Bayard said boldly, seemingly to be unaware of the awkward glances being shared by Camelot's red knights, all the very same people who took their enjoyment out of kicking Merlin around to the tune of their own fun at one point or another. Seemingly unaware of Uther taking a steadying breath, glancing towards Gaius at the top of the stairs as if trying to remind himself of something. Seemingly unaware of Arthur standing a bit straighter, trying to unconsciously look as if he was a man that belonged at the side of a boy who earned the favor of a foreign king. But completely aware of the pretty pink stain of blush blooming across Merlin's cheek at this kind of compliment. "I honestly think that this is only just the beginning. And Camelot can expect many great things with this young man at the helm. He's quite the honorable man, don't you think so, Uther?"

But though Bayard's question had been towards Uther, he kept his attention on Merlin sorely. The pink blush growing darker on Merlin's heated face…he called Merlin honorable. King Bayard had called MERLIN, the lowest of the low should anybody ask literally any one of Camelot's citizens, honorable. It had to be the most respect another Royal had shown Merlin in his three months being stuck in the confides of the court. It was literally the complete opposite of how he'd been treated by Arthur all this time. It couldn't help but make Merlin…also just a bit hopeful for the future. A future where he could walk down the street and not have his shoes be spit. A future where he wouldn't be shoved into walls or tripped in the halls or his items stolen or crushed from his hands. A future that Merlin himself might even be proud of having come so far to claim. A future he knew would only be possible if Arthur Pendragon left him alone for the rest of their days.

"Oh, yes. Of course! Consort Merlin has managed to do far many wonderful things for our city since he's been here. He's quite the boy, as you said." The King of Camelot quickly agreed, not wanting to do anything that might upset the other king. And in one smooth motion, the Red King was slapping a hand down onto Merlin's shoulder, squeezing it as if they were longtime friends and not hated rivals. Merlin himself tensed, straightening himself up whenever he feared the sudden weight would be enough to lose function of his knees. But Arthur Pendragon went rigid, his eyes darting back and forth between Merlin and his father's hand with a pained expression. It took everything Arthur had, his thighs shaking with the urge not to move, to not knock his father's hand off his consort. Because Merlin didn't like being touched…Merlin didn't like being touched and his father shouldn't be touching him when Arthur himself was not allowed too. King Uther didn't seem to think his actions odd, and immediately raised his hand and started snapping his fingers in an urgent motion. "I need Geoffrey down here immediately! Please tell me he's got the contract on him right this minute!"

Geoffrey, Camelot's Royal Record Keeper and the guy that had married Merlin to Arthur, came barreling down the stairs at the sound of his name. He'd been standing at the top of the stairs, jotting down important notes and stuff that's been happening in order to file it in the archive records. He was quite quick for a man of his age, he almost seemed to have materialized out of nowhere, hand flying down into his satchel where he pulled out the Treaty Parchment-the man was always prepared for anything-that had only Uther's name signed in dark ink that seemed to glisten across that blank first empty line. Uther wasn't taking any chances with Bayard trying to change his mind before his name could be signed in the same dark blank ink used for Uther. Geoffrey handed the parchment off to Bayard, who gave a courtesy look over it as if he hadn't read the thing throughly before he planned to scrawl his name on it that first time he had seen it. Geoffrey took no offense in the king making sure the parchment he held was the right documentation, already reaching into his satchel to pull out a fresh quill and a small bottle of ink to be used for the writing.

King Bayard glanced around before he gave a sharp whistle, one of the many serving boys came rushing forward from Mercia's section. And the young teen immediately turned around, giving the king his back. King Bayard pressed the parchment on top of him, giving himself something solid to be able to write on. Geoffrey held up the inkwell and King Bayard dipped his quill into the darkish liquid, little drips falling back into the pot as he pulled it up. Uther let Merlin go and practically leaned over Bayard's shoulder in order to watch him placing his name on the second line right underneath his own. And Merlin watched as well with a deep seated curiosity, never noticing the way Arthur casually slid across the way until he was standing on the other side of Merlin. Between Merlin and the king…Arthur didn't know why Merlin hadn't started screaming the second Uther had touched him like he had done Arthur a few days before. Perhaps he just didn't like ARTHUR being the one to touch him. But it was no matter…he'd make sure nobody tried touching Merlin again. If only to give Merlin this more active of an apology, since his words had done absolutely nothing.

"You know, Uther, I don't think you really remember this, it was nearly twenty five years or so ago now. But I vividly remember that one time, just before you had started courting Ygraine, you and I got into a proper fist fight over her. I've just met her you see, being in Camelot for a tourney, and we somehow got into that fight in order to win her over. I also remember how extremely mad she was at me before she ran off to check on you, the true object of her desire." Bayard said randomly, casually making conversation as he signed his name, including his many titles onto the parchment just as Uther had. Merlin blinked, extremely startled to suddenly hear the name of Arthur's long dead mother brought up in conversation…Uther's face had gone pinched and tight. It was clear that Uther remembered very well the incident Bayard was talking about. It was hard trying to imagine King Uther ever being young, and it was harder to imagine days the king would have been in love and courting, and it was even harder than that to imagine Uther having actually gotten into a fist fight over a woman. Something like that sounded so juvenile, the exact opposite of the proud royal he wanted to force Merlin into being. It was almost hypocritical, considering the mess the king apparently got into when he was young. "But there's something I do know that you never knew about the incident…I wasn't fighting you because I'd been wanting Ygraine as my Queen. Do try to keep up Uther, even back then I knew I was gay. I simply thought you were cute and was trying to get your attention in some way. Kinda like when a small boy will pull a girl's hair in order to get her attention, you know."

Uther's jaw seemed to drop, looking properly horrified at the mere thought of another man possibly having feelings for him. Wanting to court him. Take him out on the special events that Uther had once taken Ygraine out on…and Arthur Pendragon was no different than his father, in that respect. Arthur darted eyes between his father and the other king in rabid succession, trying to make a bit of sense over what he had just heard. Bayard had once…had a crush on Uther Pendragon…on his father. Another MAN had a crush on his father back when they'd been kids. It had been a strange enough concept for Arthur to think of Bayard proudly announcing his sexuality the day they'd first met, as if there'd been nothing odd or taboo about such a thing. As if…being gay…was actually a thing somebody should be proud to be. Instead of something that should stay hidden like a carefully guarded secret of the heart, willing to do whatever it'd take to keep it that way. Risking life and limb and heart to make sure nobody'd even suspect your desires might lean differently than what was normal.

Uther continued to gap, his mouth opening up and down as if he was might've been some kind of demented fish. But Arthur swallowed hard, casting a glance over towards Merlin nervously. Wondering what Merlin might be thinking of the bold declaration, but Arthur found he couldn't read Merlin's face. That was no surprise. Ever since Merlin had given it to him good and proper, he figured it'd be a long time before he'd be able to read Merlin like he had. Or at least, as he had thought he'd been reading Merlin, when he'd been getting the whole thing wrong this entire time. Maybe though, Merlin saw Arthur looking at him out of the corner of his eye, because he turned his head to look at him, a dark scowl already forming on his face along with a half glare of irritation. Arthur was able to feel the way his skin heated up under Merlin's stern gaze, growing darker as he recognized he was being silently reprimanded right now. Arthur looked from him as fast as he could, feeling something in his neck prickling…it was going to be a long time before Arthur could stand to look at Merlin again. A long time in where he wouldn't watch him, wondering what he was thinking about all of the others who weren't afraid to announce things like Bayard did. As if liking other men and being gay was something normal and something not shameful.

A long time before Arthur could stop thinking about what Merlin tasted like.

A long time before the flavor couldn't be recalled.

A long time before Arthur moved on with his life.

A long time before Arthur no longer thought people would assume he was gay just because he had kissed Merlin.

Kissing another man didn't make him gay, he still had no desire for Merlin like that. He still didn't have any interest in taking him out on public dates where the two of them would be seen together. He didn't have any interest in taking him out on private dates where the two of them could talk without being heard or listened too. He didn't have any interest in holding the man's hand as if he'd been a woman. And Arthur had already learned his lesson against giving Merlin flowers…he had absolutely no interest in courting Merlin. He could barely take a moment to look at him without a cold sweat breaking out across the back of his neck, even when he tried helping him in small subtle ways, like standing in-between him and his father.

Because kissing men wasn't normal.

It wasn't right.

It made him a freak for doing it in the first place.

Less of a man for not curbing off such strangeness when they had first started to develop.

Kissing Merlin had been…a mistake.

Just like hitting him had been.

And throwing him against walls when he didn't like it.

And not seeing things from his point of view.

And not realizing he had been kidnapped.

And not fucking Listening to what Merlin had been trying to tell him this entire time…

But Bayard seemed happy as a lark, unaware of the turmoil and strive he had forced Arthur into, just because he was unwilling to hide who and what he was from the world any longer. The King simply blew a breath of air on the ink he'd put on the parchment to make the dark stain of color dry faster than it was, he seemingly unaware of Arthur shifting anxiously from one foot to the other, just knowing that being this close in proximity to Merlin so soon after what he had done wasn't good for him. The King, once checking that the ink was dry, rolled up the parchment happily, unaware of Arthur being torn between wanting to go far from here to have yet another mental breakdown over Merlin, and his duty that told him to stay and make sure Merlin at least got away from this meeting less unscathed as Arthur was. And the King handed the parchment over not to Uther, or to Geoffrey, but to Merlin himself, unaware of Arthur darting his eyes down to where each man was holding a side of the parchment, only being able to breathe once again when Bayard let go.

Leaving the parchment safely in his consort's delicate hands…hands that had not been so delicate when he'd been shoving Arthur as hard as he could in his poor state. Hands that hadn't been so delicate when he'd punched Arthur hard as he could in his temple in order to get the prince-who had shamefully acted as if he was some kind of wild animal-off of him. Hands that hadn't been near as delicate when he'd been forcing Arthur to stand there with a blade pressed to his throat, encouraging Arthur to be just like his father and slice across his jugular so the blood would flow freely down the long length of his perfect neck now carefully hidden behind the light blue ratty neckerchief he wore to replace the red one Arthur had lost (cough cough stolen cough cough).

"And of course, young Merlin here is more than welcome to come and visit us in Mercia if he ever wants to get out and see the world for a bit. With Arthur or without him." Bayard announced gleefully, a playful little smirk on his face, and clearly unable to resist getting one last dig in on the prince he hated. And said prince went stiff, his spine going ramrod straight…Bayard's expression and his tone had been entirely joking. But Arthur could see the seriousness of his eyes and the prince's heart gave a jolt of panic. Was the king…was Bayard trying to take Merlin away from him? Was inviting Merlin back to Mercia somehow going to be his way of keeping him there? Keeping him there because…Arthur forced a swallow down past the lump in his throat…he thought Arthur planned to hurt Merlin some more after all of this. "We would be happy to host you for as long as you wish. The doors to Mercia are always opened towards the Kind Consort of the Camelot Kingdom."

And Arthur's stomach tangled itself into the most uncomfortable knot as King Bayard stretched his hand out, clearly wanting to shake Merlin's hand…it was the kind of shaking men gave to other men. The kind of shaking one did when their business had concluded. The kind of shaking that proved…somehow…the treaty his father had worked on for months trying to secure, had somehow just became Merlin's treaty. As if he was the one that approached Bayard first and spent endless nights working out the details as letters flew back across each of the capitals over and over again until they finally ironed out all the details it would entail. But Arthur couldn't think about that now, couldn't think for even a second on how him and his father was being snubbed by the other king…the prince had very clearly noticed that Bayard hadn't invited either of them to be royal guests for a trip to the kingdom.

And nothing was more important than watching Merlin clasping hands with the other king, once again not reacting to the touch as violently as he had when it had been Arthur's touch. And his stomach twisted and twisted even more due to the questions that plagued him…as if his spleen had decided now would be a good time to start wrestling with his stomach. What was Arthur going to do if Merlin approached him one of these days and wanted Arthur to orchestrate his trip to Mercia. What if Merlin left by himself, outside of the safe walls meant to keep him inside the kingdom he ruled, where many untold horrors could reach him outside of Arthur's personal protection. There were bandits on the road to worry about, wolves that might decide Merlin was a good snack, witches that might actually show up and take the opportunity to spirit Merlin away to some place not even Arthur would be able to find him. What if Merlin actually made it to Mercia and his two week stay ended up turning into two months. What will Arthur do it Merlin decided he wanted to…decided he wanted to stay in Mercia indefinitely. Somewhere Arthur wouldn't be welcomed. Somewhere that Arthur couldn't just demand to have his way and his consort returned to him…was he willing to upset Merlin even more by denying him that freedom? And trying to make his consort return home, to where he belonged.

"I appreciate the offer, King Bayard. I'll keep that in mind. Perhaps someday I'll really get a chance to see Mercia for myself."

Merlin's answer gave Arthur no relief in sight, his stomach lurching with almost violence, as if Merlin could disappear right in front of him and Arthur would be helpless to do anything other than think about how he deserved it. How he was deserving of having Merlin slip right through his fingers, a phantom that didn't have any need for Arthur. Not when there were other men offering to take him in for a time. The lurching in his stomach was made even worse as he saw a bit of glimmer in Merlin's eyes…curiosity? Did Merlin like the idea of being able to see new and different lands? Did he like to explore and learn stuff he probably would have never known if he had stayed back where he'd been taken from…if he did, then that was something Arthur could do! The prince thought with this almost desperate quality to him. He might not be able to take Merlin as far as Mercia, they wouldn't be allowed in the main city unless it was for a diplomatic reason-at least not Arthur-but he could take him other places. Like the forests outside the city that Arthur hunted in. Or the creek that ran through a certain path in the forest…it was said to go all the way to the ocean, but the river was far too stretched out for them to ever reach the ending. But that creek housed the most beautiful array of colorful fish's that Arthur had ever seen. Or maybe he would be more interested in seeing ruins? Exploring old towers and largely abandoned structures that had once housed noble families before they were forced to leave during wars and droughts that had happened long before they were born. Arthur could think of at least three different settlements that were relatively safe enough from being overran by bandits that he could bring him too, if he was ever so inclined to leave with Arthur anywhere.

"I will of course want to maintain contact for the time being." Bayard stated so suddenly, Arthur almost felt his head spinning when he saw the King of Mercia now addressing his father. But what exactly did he mean…did Bayard just want to keep in contact with the Red King? So they could continue with fostering all the strong communications and connections with the city, as another means to make sure the treaty wouldn't end up broken from their side? Or did he want to keep in communication with Merlin, which was…a strong concept. It was not like a king to waste their time with writing personal letters to a consort. It may be taken the wrong way, propriety being put into question and all of that. But a king who bragged about having a male lover probably didn't care if Arthur was forced to listen to Merlin's honor being disgraced once again. "Merlin is quite a capable and smart young man, and there are a few things I think I would like to pick onto his brain for a bit. Perhaps I'll send a letter in a few months? I'm sure he would be most interested in being involved with the other kingdoms, yes?"

Arthur Pendragon released a breath of relief, feeling his lungs expanding over the fact that these weren't going to be…personal…letters. The one somebody might send if they were interested in having a…closer…more intimate kind of relationship. But this…this was better. Though Arthur might want to sneak just a peek at one of these letters. Just to…assuage some concerns he might have for a wealthy older man taking an invested interest in his consort. But if this is something actually legit then…Arthur was sure Merlin would like it. He was just as Bayard said…smart. And hearing about Mercia from somebody who actually lived there might sate some of the wonder lust in Merlin's eyes. Although…his father was looking completely baffled by Bayard wanting to keep in a constant contact with Merlin, even as he shook Bayard's hand, their horses and the big wagons they had rolled into the city with already waiting just behind them.

All of this was pretty strange, Arthur decided as he watched Merlin handing the letter off to Geoffrey so he could see it stored in the archives safely, and already looking as if he was ready to blend into the staircase as if he was one of the statues that decorated the place. If Merlin was a normal consort, then he would have been a woman, and not even Bayard would've been scandalized enough to ask to write letters to a Lady of the Court. But then again, if Arthur had a normal consort, they also wouldn't have the treaty currently signed and sealed and delivered. If Merlin was a normal consort, then they would probably be on their way to war, the beating of the drum accompanying their marching as they sharpened their blades and had their shields polished at the ready. If the blond prince had a normal consort, then well…

Arthur, as strange and as unsettling as it was, decided he quite liked having a not normal consort.

He quite liked it a lot.

X

Merlin Pendragon left not long after showing how receptive he was to getting a letter from Bayard one day in the near future…he smiled and played his part as easily as it was to breathe. He wasn't stupid. He knew he wasn't going to get a letter from Bayard, especially not a letter on things Bayard could 'pick apart at his brain'. Nobody had ever been interested in his thoughts before, he'd always had to yell over the madness of other people before they'd eventually admit he was right. But it was nice to imagine a king taking an interest in him, instead of just using him for his own agenda..but no matter. He figured he would not ever see the older king again. King Bayard was going to return to his kingdom right now, and forget little old Merlin had ever existed.

Which was a shame…Merlin quite liked having Bayard around.

For the most part.

When he wasn't trying to kill Merlin for accusing him of attempted murder then he'd been the funnest noble, other than Morgan, that he'd met.

But those thoughts felt like they were lingering on the self deprecating side of Merlin that he'd been trying to push below the surface. He had done a full…six or so minutes without thinking about how lesser he was than everybody else in the world he'd come across. Which had to be a new record. If he just kept it up then…perhaps he could make it a full ten minutes. And then twenty. And if the sorcerer could keep it up, he might even make it a full day without thinking his life was a mess. A full day where he would be…happy and normal and pleased with himself, even if it fucking killed him.

Merlin Pendragon walked back up the stairs with as much dignity as he could muster in his tiny frame. With his head held high as he held his legs firm to be sure he wouldn't collapse if he walked too fast. He didn't bother looking at one person there, knowing they were already looking at him and waiting to see just what it was he was going to do next. But Merlin wasn't going to give any of the people there the satisfaction of seeing him fail. Or fall on his arse. He'd gotten a bloody treaty, somehow, for these people. They could gawk at him any other time when he was feeling more up to it. But right now, right now it was time for him to rest again. Merlin couldn't be fucking happy if each step felt as if there was hot knives shooting into every nerve ending in his legs.

But when Merlin reached the top of the stairs, Gaius tried to rewrap him back into his blanket, trying to cocoon him in its warmth. And trust him, there was nothing Merlin wanted to do more in the world was wrap himself inside of that blanket and let Gaius take over. Let him be the strength that Merlin seemed to always be lacking. But not today. Not when he'd came this far in proving to his own self, because he had no interest in proving anything to the people that did nothing more than scorn him for breathing in their precious prince's direction, that he could do something right. Regret, Merlin silently shook his head before pressing the blanket into Gaius's hands again. The old physician frowned at his nephew in concern, but Merlin only squared his shoulders and kept walking by him. Aware of every eye on the staircase focused on his back.

He would walk like this even after he had left their sight.

Until he reached Gaius' chambers in one piece.

Camelot could say whatever it was they wanted about him, and most of it was probably going to be a lie. But the one thing they couldn't say about him, was that he was a quitter. Even if Merlin had to crawl himself back to his room with only the grit of his teeth to pull him each and every agonizing inch, he'd do it…he'd do it and tell everybody who laughed at him to fuck off. Because it wasn't going to matter if Merlin was fucking broken. It wasn't going to matter that his road to recovery was probably going to be the toughest thing he'd ever faced in his lifetime. It didn't matter if Merlin could do nothing else but move through life…

Why?

Because he was still fucking standing, that's why.

And not even Arthur Pendragon was ever going to take that away from him again. Even if Merlin started carrying bruised knuckles from how many times he had to hit Arthur, even if his mouth was dry because he did nothing but spit at Arthur directly in the eye…he was NEVER going to be that useless lump he'd been turned into. This was his vow, for as long as he lived…Arthur Pendragon was his enemy. And he was going to rue the day he ever tried kicking Merlin on his knees.

X

Uther Pendragon was so busy with giving Geoffrey clear instructions on how he wanted the treaty parchment to be filed, and Arthur was too busy watching as his consort disappeared into the main doorway of the castle, neither one of them noticed Bayard was also watching the consort with a calculating glint in his eye. Neither one of them noticed when a young man dressed in the flowing blue robes of Mercia, Bayard's right hand knight, stepping up to the king. And neither one of them noticed when he started whispering into the king's ear.

"Are we really going to leave him here?"

Surprisingly enough, King Bayard's First Knight was quite a gentle spirit. And the concern was dripping from his lips as he shot a disgruntled look towards the back of the prince. The first knight didn't tolerate spouse beaters, even if they were royal. Not since his sister had been brutally murdered in her home a few years ago and her husband, who everybody knew had done it, had gotten away scotch free because the people working in his household was too scared to admit the horrors they might have witnessed inside those walls. Leaving the consort behind to suffer the same fate was almost like leaving his sister to die all over again, even for the virtual stranger that was Merlin.

"…I know why you want to take him with us. The way the knights talked in front of us in our cells about him was absolutely appalling. He shouldn't be forced to deal with such ignorance. But we can hardly steal Camelot's consort away in the night, especially not so soon after he came here looking for peace." Bayard whispered back, his blue eyes swirling with the same concern that was being worn by Mercia's first knight. And when the first knight opened his mouth with a protest brimming on his lips, about to argue that peace shouldn't matter and what was the point in peace if they didn't save somebody who clearly needed their help, the king held up a single hand to silence him. "I have already told the boy that Mercia's doors will always be opened to him. Hopefully he'll have gotten the message. If the day comes where Consort Merlin ever shows up on our doorstep looking for sanctuary, then we will take him in. But leaving…it has to be his own choice. A choice not even we can make for him."