A Marriage that Started a Legend

by IJustShowedUp

Follows canon but with my own arranged marriage spin on it. What happens when Hunith makes a mistake and is forced on the run with her infant son? What happens when Camelot knights find her twenty years later? What happens when Arthur learns he's betrothed to a peasant boy? Will Merlin be able to stand among royalty? Will these two different boys survive each other? Review!

12. Chapter 12

Arthur's face was blank, almost like stone. His eyes looked strangely blank, unfocused, in a way that just wasn't like him at all. His hands hung limply at his side and he stood stiff in the middle of his room. This was it. It was barely two hours away...his wedding. The sun outside his window was sinking down into the horizon as each agonizing minute passed him by. He'd never noticed time before. It was just always there. He had Morris to keep up with his schedule and the like.

But now?

It was like it was all he noticed. Almost as if he could feel himself aging by the minute, growing into an old man despite not even being twenty one summers yet.

Was getting married supposed to feel like this? Arthur doubted that it did. Or else people would probably never be married. Then if marriage wasn't a thing, he wouldn't be here right now.

He lifted his chin absentmindedly, almost not feeling Morris as the manservant buckled his long red cloak into place on his collar. Even Morris looked solemn by the events that were happening, helping Arthur in getting dressed for his own wedding.

Morris had a steady frown on his face, working in silence as he smoothed out the prince's pure white tunic. The expensive piece of cloth was tucked into Arthur's dark pants. The bottoms of which were tucked into his thick, dark colored boots.

Morris quietly picked up the dark brown leather belt off of the table and started working it into the loops of Arthur's pants. "You are almost ready, sire." Morris said quietly, staring down at his hands as he worked. He didn't even try anything inappropriate on Arthur while he helped him dressed. He was one hundred percent professional, just like he had been all of these years working under Arthur. He kept his hands brief and only touched what was needed, keeping his hands steady at all times even when he felt shaken.

It all just felt so hopeless in this moment. Knowing that Arthur was marrying somebody like Merlin. What did Merlin know about running a kingdom? What did Merlin know about being with a prince? Hell, what did Merlin know around the bedroom? They all might as well be signing their death certificates right now if god forbid, something happened to Arthur and Uther and Merlin was the one left in charge.

Morris stepped back when he finished buckling the belt and bowed his head. "Allow me to fetch your crown, sire." He said quietly. He had to leave the room but only for the briefest of minutes. The prince's crown was at the end of the hall under a guard's watch until the prince needed it. It was usually kept in the treasury behind the gate where only the most important items were kept. It was only brought out during important events where Arthur was the star of the night.

And rather anybody liked it or not, this wedding would go down in history. The wedding of Prince Arthur of Camelot and his peasant. It was outrageous but it was happening. And fast.

When Morris stepped out of the room to fetch his crown, Arthur couldn't have walked fast enough to his window. He carefully avoided looking at himself in his mirror that was hanging on the inside of his opened wardrobe door. He was used to being dressed up, to going to the biggest and most elaborate parties the kingdom could hold. But the last thing he wanted was to see how he looked at that moment. He almost wished that he looked horrible, so awful that his father would send him back to his room.

But no, his father wouldn't do that.

Arthur might be feeling nauseous on the inside. He might feel as if he was screaming his lungs out and nobody even acknowledged that he was doing it. He might be feeling almost desperate to stop this from happening.

But on the outside he was the perfect example of what a prince should be. He was straight backed, head tilted up, and was doing everything his father told him to do. And now he was staring outside his window, getting dressed for what would be the worst day of his life.

He didn't feel like he was getting married. He felt as if he was preparing for a funeral. And in a way, he might as well be. Marrying a total stranger that he had no affection for, it felt as if his heart needed to be buried. It was the only way he was going to make it through the proceedings without throwing up all over his fiancé in front of the entirety of the court.

As Arthur stood at his window, thinking about how awful the rest of his years would be, his blank gaze drifted over the deserted courtyard. Due to the wedding, the guards had cleared out everybody who wasn't supposed to be in the castle. The only ones inside were the knights, the royal family, and the only servants necessary that were working the party. Within the hour, coaches should be pulling up so that only the immediate noble families around Camelot would be arriving.

There couldn't be a wedding without some kind a spectacle, could it? Not only was his father forcing him to go through with this, but many in high society would be there to witness it. To witness him, the Prince of Camelot, married to a peasant. It was humiliating and degrading and standing there now, Arthur couldn't even begin to imagine anything worst happening.

Looking out into the courtyard, Arthur's eyes caught on to a very specific spot. Right there, directly in the middle. He hadn't thought nothing of it before, having seen and walked through it pretty much all of his life. But now, that spot brought a new memory to it.

For just the briefest of flickers, there was a sign of life in Arthur's eyes before it faded.

That was the spot where he had met that peasant boy. That Merlin. The one that had tried to punch him so Arthur had him sent to the dungeons. The one that later tried to fight him with a mace, so Arthur had let him go.

He felt his lips curl up, just the barest hint of a smile on his face. What amusement that boy had brought him. He almost wanted to have Morris send out for him and have the boy brought to his room. Just so that fool could give him something to laugh about before his wedding. Just so that fool could get mad at him again in a way that nobody would dare get mad at their prince. He just wanted something to forget his troubles with, even if it was just for a few minutes.

But Arthur brushed that idea away as soon as it had come. He wouldn't even know how to find the boy anyway. All he had was a name: Merlin. He had no idea where the boy worked or which area of the city he lived in. It would be like finding a needle in a haystack to find one person in such a large city without any more details. Hell, he couldn't exactly tell the guards to find the guy with the stupid neckerchief around his neck.

Now that he'd thought of Merlin, other things came to him. He wondered if Merlin was excited about his wedding. Arthur wasn't naive, he knew his kingdom was rejoicing because of it. He wondered if Merlin was one of them.

But then again, Arthur snorted to himself, the boy would probably throw himself off a cliff before admitting to being excited about anything that included Arthur.

And that was the very reason why Arthur wanted to find him again. Just have Merlin insult him one more time before he got married, so he could still feel that bubble of amusement in his chest while he stepped up to the altar. He'd probably say something dumb like 'Who would want to marry Arthur?' Arthur could think of dozens of people that would want to marry him but Merlin would probably say something else and then the two would be fighting again.

Arthur didn't think he'd mind. It wouldn't be so bad going another round, especially if he could do that instead of getting married.

Arthur didn't even look up as Morris reentered his room, carrying a soft pillow the color of pendragon red, with yellow tassels hanging off each corner. "Here, sire." The manservant said, setting the pillow down on the corner of Arthur's table. The manservant carefully picked up the golden crown and walked over to his prince.

Arthur didn't say a word as he tilted his head down, letting Morris slide the crown onto his head. He could feel the cold metal of the crown as it slid into place over his forehead. Morris fixed his bangs, gently tugging them out from under the crown so that they hung over the metal.

This crown that he wore now had been passed down over the centuries that the Pendragon's had ruled over Camelot. This specific crown was given to the prince before he reached his majority. Arthur would have more crowns over his lifetime. He was supposed to be given a new one upon his twenty first birthday, the crown meant for the Crowned Prince and next in line for the throne. And then he would be given another when he became king although that wouldn't happen for many years yet.

Arthur straightened his spine, returning his eyes back to look out his windows. His eyes had returned to that blank look. It was almost scary how dead they looked in that moment.

Morris had returned with his crown in a timely fashion. But all it did was remind Arthur how short his time really was.

This time, when Arthur looked at the spot where he had met Merlin, he felt nothing. He felt nothing because he was to busy thinking about what was coming. He was to busy watching his time slip away as he waited for someone to tell him that they were ready for him to come.

Like he was about to be led to the executioner.

Arthur had no idea that even if he had sent someone to go seek out Merlin, it wouldn't be to hard to find him. At that very moment, Merlin was just now heading to the main staircase, bringing Lady Morgana her potion.

Deeper into the castle, in the throne hall, Uther sat in his throne chair, watching the proceedings take place. The servants were running around like they were chickens with their heads cut off, going frantic to make sure that everything was perfect. Knights had carried in long benches but that was only because most of the servants were to scrawny and weren't able to handle the weight. They would have had to spare a dozen servants just to carry each heavy, mahogany, thick, bench into the room. It would have taken more time than they had and they needed all of the servants available for other duties.

The hall now had five long benches on one side of the room. There was a walkway and then the other side of the room had another five benches. At the end of each bench was a plaque of the pendragon crest. In the middle was a long red carpet that led from the entrance all the way across the room. A small platform had been set up temporarily in the front of the room for the 'happy couple' to stand on so that others could see them easier. Against the walls and set up strategically across the room were vases of red roses that had been brought in just for this event.

Just in the next corridor was the grand hall where the actual party would take place. It was being set up as well with circular tables spread around for the guests to sit at. At the front of the room was going to be a long table where the royal family, their new member included, were going to sit so that they could look at at all of their subjects. Along the walls there were going to be several long tables with white table cloths. The kitchen servants would be bringing in the food soon. It was being kept on the stoves in the kitchens to keep it hot before it was all plated and brought in just before the ceremony.

Despite the elaborate setup, all of it had been thrown together in the last hour. The servants had done their job pretty good, considering the short timing that they had to prepare it.

While all of this was being set up, King Uther sat in his chair watching. He could feel his impatience growing as the more time passed. Any minute now, a guard could approach him and announce that Merlin was missing. That the boy had escaped and made a break for the city wall.

But he had yet to get any such news so he was going with the boy still being somewhere in the castle. Hopefully preparing for the ceremony since he'd just sent a servant to check that the royal tailor had finished on time. She had and her and her assistants were now on their way to help the boy prepare. Or at least that was what the servant had reported back to him.

One of the stewards that worked in the castle, whose direct job it was was to make sure that the servants were given their orders and duties, was standing beside Uther's chair. He was calling out directions to the servants, making sure everything was absolutely perfect with his keen eye. The last thing he wanted was for the king to express disappointment at the display.

Getting prepared might have been a rush with the short notice that they were given, but the steward refused to allow anything less than perfect be set up. The arrangement between the royal family and the commoner may not be real but the steward sure was going out of his way to make sure it at least looked like it was.

"Bethany! Those petals aren't standing straight!" The steward shouted at one of the serving girl's that was setting up another vase of red roses nearby. One or two of the petals had fallen off and was now gracing the floor at Bethany's feet. Bethany quickly bowed to the steward, her legs shaky from being called out like this. Then she quickly knelt down and started scooping the extra rose petals into her hands before tucking them into the pocket of her dress. She would dispose of them when she had a free minute.

The steward moved on to his next victim, "Cynthia, those banners need to be higher!" He yelled across the room to another dark haired serving girl. The girl jumped startled, nearly falling off the ladder she was standing at the top of, trying to fit a new Pendragon banner onto the wall just above the grand doors. It was lucky that Darien, another serving boy, was holding the uneven ladder steady for her or she may had fallen.

Cynthia quickly nodded, the only reason she didn't bow was because of the precarious situation she was in. She had to climb up another step, dangerously close to the top of the ladder. She was actually sitting on one knee perched on the top so that she could fit the banner into place.

The Steward's eyes barely acknowledged her, already moving on to somebody else. "Dylan!" He yelled at a young serving boy just hurrying into the room. "Did you check on the Grand Hall like I told you to! Are they getting prepared as expected?"

Dylan quickly hurried up the length of the room, "Yes sir," he said to the man that was essentially his boss. "They are almost done with the instructions that you gave them."

"Excellent." The steward said, looking all puffed up and pleased as if he himself had done any of the work instead of just running around yelling at people to do things.

King Uther, still in his throne, subtly rubbed at his temple. Why did he make that man a steward again? His voice was getting more irritating the more he talked. And the man practically shouting in his ear wasn't helping matters any. The night hadn't even started and he could already feel a headache coming along. If this was how the rest of the night was going to go, Uther expected it to be a very long night to come.

The Steward turned to face his king, hands tucked behind his back. It made it easier to puff his chest out some. "Sire? Is there anything else that needs to be done?"

Uther glanced up before averting his eyes. "Yes." He said, having already thought of an impending crisis coming up once word spread further of Arthur's marriage. "I need someone to inform Geoffrey to send letters to the other kingdoms. They will need to be apologized to for not being invited to the wedding." With the short notice and how fast they were hurrying this wedding along, there would have been no way for anyone outside of Camelot to have made it on time.

Geoffrey was the castle scribe. He mostly spent his days in the library, reading his books or writing invoices or notices. It was his job to keep their library up to date although they rarely got new items since people rarely actually stopped by the surprisingly small room for a library. Geoffrey also officiated or witnessed most events and he'll make notes of things for his records.

Geoffrey would have to send the other kingdoms sincere apology letters and mark it with the king's signet, apologizing for having them miss such a huge moment in the Camelot Royal Family. It would be a huge social mishap to not send an apology letter. To not invite the other kingdoms would no doubt be considered an insult by them, as if Camelot hadn't deemed them worthy enough to attend the celebrations. To not send an apology letter would be adding salt to the wound. It would be like a slap in the face. No, it would be best to have the letters sent out as soon as possible. Uther had to handle this with as much decorum as possible, lest one of the other kingdoms actually take serious offense and try to start a war over this apparent slight against them.

The steward looked absolutely horrified because he himself hadn't remembered what offense the other kingdoms would have at not being invited. It was almost enough to make him want to scream. The king shouldn't have had to tell him to make sure the apology letters were sent out, he should have predicted the problem and had already done it himself.

"Yes sir, of course sire." The steward said immediately, simpering. "I will get right on that." Before hurrying off. "Browen! Damnit, where's Browen!" He was shouting. Uther winced, feeling the ache in his temples grow. He couldn't wait for this whole thing to be over and done with. The whole palace could get back to their normal lives after tonight.

Well, except for...Uther's gaze drifted up towards the ceiling where he knew several floors up, his son was getting prepared for tonight's events.

He gave off a heavy sigh. Hopefully, his son would understand why this had to be done, why they had the forced obligation to see this union through.

On the other side of the room, the steward had finally tracked down the blonde haired Browen. "Browen!" He yelled in his squeaky voice.

Browen had been kneeling on the floor, sweeping up some glass from a fallen vase. She jolted up at the sound of her name. "Yes sir?" She asked, head angled down as he came to her.

"I need you to talk to Geoffrey." The steward commanded. "And yet him know that he will have to send out apology letters to the other kingdoms immediately." He said firmly, hands planted on his hips.

Browen nodded, head still angled towards the floor. "Yes sir, right away sir." She said before handing off her dustpan to the red haired serving girl, Merida, standing near her. Browen turned on her heel and tried to leave the throne room, ducking as to not get hit in the face as somebody ran passed with a tray that held refreshments for guests who arrived early. She didn't even get to the door before the steward called her back.

"And Browen!" The steward started. "While you're out there, I need you to make a stop by Lady Helena's room. Make sure that she is getting prepared for the wedding."

Browen's eyes widened just a bit and she quickly nodded, "Yes sir." She said hurriedly and rushed out before he could stop her again. Her mind was swirling. Was she really going to meet Lady Helena?! Browen had been a big fan of hers ever since she first heard of the woman with the beautiful voice that was becoming known all over the nation. She had been so excited when she heard it was Lady Helena that was invited as the prince's wedding singer. Working the wedding, she could have only hoped to hear her in the background. It never occurred to her that she might have a chance to meet her!

Browen would make her stop at the library first and then make her way to Lady Helena's room. A grin spread across her face, she was practically skipping down the hallway. She couldn't wait to meet the famous singer!

Inside the throne room, the steward turned as soon as Browen left through the grand doors. He immediately turned his ire onto another unexpected servant, yelling at him about something that wasn't at 'the' perfect angle.

It was going to be a long night for everybody.

On the other side of the castle, Merlin stood at the foot of the stairs. He stared up at them, ignoring a serving girl that hurried passed him with fresh linens or the knight that walked past holding a lance. Why he was holding a lance was a mystery to Merlin but he didn't think about it for to long. Up those stairs was Lady Morgana and god, he hoped she wasn't anything like Arthur and Uther.

Uther scared the crap out of him. He didn't seem like the friendliest guy and it was a mystery to him why his mother had ever made such a deal with a guy like him.

Arthur was an arse. Merlin didn't see how a marriage between the two of them was going to end up in any other way than bitterness being that the only two times they've met had ended in a fight. He could almost imagine the next meeting probably ending up in a similar fashion.

Lady Morgana was pretty much his only hope at this point. She was the only member of his new 'family' that he hadn't met yet. And he really hoped that she actually wasn't like the men in her family. That she wasn't cruel or mean or anything like that. Merlin didn't know how he was going to survive this if the entire family was arrogant off of their own standing in society.

Well Merlin wasn't going to figure out if she was just by standing at the bottom of the stairs. He rubbed his fingers over the bottle in his grasp. Might as well get this over with and either get reacquainted with the constant disappointment he'd felt with the royal family or hopefully, be pleasantly surprised that there was someone in the family who wasn't like the others were.

Merlin headed up the stairs and he was nervous, feeling the energy pump through his body. He ended up taking the stairs to at a time. Taking them one at a time would have felt so slow to him. It was best to take them two at a time, even if he ended up in the Royal Hallway a little faster than he had been wanting to.

He passed Arthur's room, purposely averting his eyes from it. Unknown to him, Arthur was still in there doing some final preparations for tonight. Then he passed by his room and looked away again. The last thing he wanted to be reminded of was his new suddenly rich lifestyle. He may not have money but the family he was marrying into sure did and clearly had no problem showcasing that wealth.

And that was when he found himself at the next doorway. The opened doorway that led into Lady Morgana's chambers. Seeing that the door was wide open, Merlin gave a cautious glance around to see if anybody was going to stop him from entering a Lady's chambers. But the hallway was bare, most everybody being downstairs to help with the wedding preparations. Even Gregory hadn't yet returned to his post.

'He must still be with his wife.' Merlin thought before going back to the situation at hand.

Merlin stepped into the room, glancing around. It looked almost like his but with some subtle differences. Like the more feminine air that the room seemed to give off. And there was a silk lilac bedspread that the Lady Morgana had covering her bed. The Lady also had a velvet couch perched in front of her fireplace. Merlin didn't have a couch in his room. He wondered briefly if Arthur did.

He didn't get the chance to think much on it before movement on the other side of the room caught his attention. And that was where she stood because it obviously couldn't have been anyone other than Lady Morgana. The woman had her back to him but was standing in front of her vanity, setting her brush down. Because of the angle of her mirror, Morgana wasn't able to see him in the reflection.

In fact, Morgana had no idea that anybody was there at all.

All Merlin could see of her was the long slightly curled black hair that fell down her back. It stopped just above her waist and Merlin was almost surprised by it. Women didn't usually wear their hair like that, not peasant women at least. With all of the work that had to be done, hair much longer than your shoulders was impractical. It was practically begging to be caught in a tool or was just a pain to keep cleaned. And even then, most girls kept their hair pinned up by old rags that were fashioned into headbands. But Merlin guessed being royal, some things were different. Morgana probably didn't often have to get her hands dirty, she definitely had people who could do things she didn't want to.

It was strange to think that being rich could even effect something like your hairstyle. Merlin had never thought of it before but it made sense. The rich didn't have to worry about the dangers long hair might pose so they were able to grow it out in a way that peasants just couldn't afford to.

Merlin seemed to realize at that moment that he had been standing here for far to long, just staring at Lady Morgana. It was obvious that she still didn't know that he was here, the way that she was tinkering away at her vanity. There was an almost uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach when he realized what this might look like. A peasant boy entering the room of a Lady.

He glanced around, still standing in the doorway to the ladies room before bringing his hand over to the door. He gave a slight knock, hearing the slight thud his fist made against the door.

Lady Morgana finally stepped away from her vanity but not to acknowledge him. Instead, she stepped to the side, walking behind where her changing screen stood in the corner of her room right beside her vanity. Merlin watched her go, looking almost uncertain. He glanced over his shoulder as if somebody would come in and tell him what he should be doing right now. Maybe he should have knocked a little louder since it seemed that she hadn't heard him.

But she did hear him knocking. Only, she was expecting somebody and assumed it was them entering. Morgana had to start getting dressed for the wedding. It was starting to get pretty late.

Merlin opened his mouth, about to let her know that he was there.

But Morgana started talking before he could. "You know, I've been thinking about Arthur." Merlin froze at the sound of the prince's name. It was like an instant flashback to the two humiliating encounters that had left their mark on him. And was she undressing? She was definitely undressing. From his position, he could only see the top of her head from over the changing screen. And her dress was definitely being worked down her shoulders. Oh god, he should say something. He should definitely say something. Why wasn't he saying something? "I feel sorry for his fiancé. I wouldn't touch him with a lance pole." Morgana continued, obvious to the male in her room.

"I don't blame you." Merlin blurted out before he could think things through. Although really, that was probably the best scenario. Other than just letting her continue to undress with a stranger in her room.

There was a sound of surprise from Morgana when she heard the male voice instead of the soft voice of her handmaiden Gwen. Then she stuck her head around the changing screen, trying to cover herself as best as she could. She still had her dress mostly on but it was down her shoulders and she was keeping it in place to cover her breasts. She had a glare on her face, promising death to the poor man that had stumbled upon her. It was almost scarier than Arthur.

"Who are you!" Morgana hissed, eyes flashing. "What are you doing in my room! Guards!" But the guards wouldn't be coming. Because they were all downstairs securing the party. It was amazing that Arthur hadn't heard her yell from down the hall.

Merlin felt his face flush an uncomfortable red and he quickly brought a hand up to her face, trying to cover his eyes. "I didn't see anything!" He blurted out quickly. "I swear! I'm sorry!" He took a step back. "I didn't mean to walk in on yo-" he yelped, nearly falling over. He'd walked straight back into a chair set up in the corner of her room. Her dress was slung over the arm of the chair and he'd stepped on the end that was hanging just brushing the floor. Within seconds, he'd ended up on his backside. The dress slung across his lap, arm still firmly pressed against his eyes. "Er-here's your-your dress." He stuttered weakly, feeling the silk dress under his hand.

Morgana gave the stranger in her room a glare, but she had relaxed some after his fall. After all, it was hard to be scared of a strange man in your room when he fell over like that. Scowling, she started slipping her dress back onto her shoulders, covering herself back up. She cautiously stepped out from behind her screen, "Who are you?" She demanded, still glaring daggers at the boy on her floor.

Merlin still had his arm firmly on his face, almost to scared to look in case he saw something that he definitely shouldn't be seeing. "I'm-I'm Merlin."

Morgana cast him a once over, a lot more confident that she could probably take him if he tried something. He was a scrawny fella. "Well, Merlin." She said his name slow and deliberate. "What exactly are you doing in my room?"

"I was just bringing you your potion, from Gaius." Merlin quickly explained, having almost forgotten why he was here to begin with.

It was only then that Morgana noticed the familiar container clutched in Merlin's fist. She also realized that the boy was still covering his face. "You can open your eyes." She said bluntly, moving to stand directly in front of him, shooting an annoyed glare at him. "I'm decent."

Merlin still seemed unsure, cautiously lowering his arm just a touch. He peeked over his arm as if to make sure that she was telling the truth, as if she was the one that was sneaking into rooms she shouldn't be in. Morgana wasn't sure if she should be insulted or not. A boy would only be so lucky to see her disrobe. "Now, my potion." Morgana commanded, holding out her hand.

Merlin blinked for a minute before realizing what she was talking about. "Oh, right! Uh-" he scrambled to his feet, thrusting his hand with the potion out in an almost harsh manner.

Morgana raised an eyebrow, almost snatching her potion out of his hand. Merlin winced as Morgana turned her back to him to walk to her vanity, setting the bottle down among her things. Merlin couldn't even blame her. He supposed he would be upset to if someone burst in while he was trying to dress.

"My dress." Morgana suddenly said.

Merlin raised his head, a confused frown on his face. Her dress? What about her dress...

Morgana looked at his reflection in her mirror. "My dress," She repeated, lowering her eyes down to look at her dress folded over his arm. "I do not believe it will fit you." She said bluntly.

Merlin felt himself flush again. This meeting wasn't going like he'd thought at all. But then again, with his luck, he should have already figured that something awkward would happen. "Oh, right..." he stuttered, laughing awkwardly. "Your dress. It-it's not really my color anyway." He stuttered, sounding surprisingly bashful for his character.

Morgana felt her lip involuntarily twitch up, almost amused by this newcomer. She watched as he laid her dress back out onto the arm of her chair. He awkwardly tried to smooth the garment out but it was clear it was going to have some wrinkles form on the fabric. It didn't really matter. She had been on the fence about wearing that particular dress to Arthur's wedding in the first place anyway.

Morgana's eyes drifted to the potion sitting on her desk. "I was unaware that Gaius had hired an assistant." She said curiously. Gaius had never hired a particular boy before to assist him. He usually just grabbed the first serving boy he saw if he needed help and even then he complained about how much of a hassle they were.

"Oh, no, I'm not." Merlin said quickly, eyes shooting up even as he kept fondling her dress. He was obviously trying to straighten it out but just seemed to be making it worst. Morgana raised an eyebrow, glancing down meaningfully at his hands on her dress. Merlin caught the look and flushed again, quickly jerking his hands away from it as if he'd just been caught doing something unseemly. "I'm just...helping him out right now."

"Is that so?" Morgana said softly, finally turning away from her vanity and leaning against it to look at the strange boy. "Tell me Merlin," she purred the last word. "What exactly are you doing in this hallway? Gaius wouldn't have sent just anybody to this floor. I know all of the servants who are allowed to be in this wing of the castle and you are certainly none of them." She was almost trying to catch him in a lie. She wasn't going to drink this 'potion' unless she knew it came from someone she trusted, like Gaius. Ever since that visiting nobleman had gotten food poisoning from that servant girl Browen's, cooking last month, she had been iffy about just taking anything. That girl was just lucky she hadn't been fired.

"I live here." Merlin blurted out. Which as much as he hated it, it was the truth. He did live here now. "I mean, I'm sleeping in the room-" he waved a hand in the vague direction. "Just down the hall."

Morgana frowned, not understanding for a minute. This was the Royal Wing. Only the Royal Family got to sleep in this hall, so what made this kid think he could just go around making up outrageous things. The only people that were supposed to be living on this floor was Uther, Arthur, her, and now that peasant boy...

That was when the dots connected in her mind. Her eyes shot to meet Merlin's own.

Obviously a peasant-check.

Obviously a boy-check

Claims to be living on this floor...nobody was dumb enough to say something like that unless it was actually true.

Morgana suddenly walked straight up to Merlin, almost getting in his face. She tried getting closer, her eyes scanning over his face, almost like she was trying to learn everything she could about him from just a look. She had her arms crossed under her chest, looking as if she was analyzing every detail of his face.

Merlin didn't move from where he was standing but he did lean uncomfortably back. Any further and he would probably fall straight over. But he couldn't help himself. The uncomfortable position was only beat by the uncomfortable way that Morgana was watching him.

"So," Morgana finally spoke. "You're him? The one that is marrying Arthur." Her eyes were darting over his features.

"Yes," Merlin said, voice cracking some. He cleared his voice, trying to make it sound deeper when he said, "Yes," again.

Morgana gave him a once over, "I have to admit, you are not what I was expecting."

Merlin wondered why everybody seemed to think that. Not one person just went with it. Everybody always seemed to be expecting something else but he didn't know what that something else was supposed to be. "What do you mean?" He finally asked. "What were you expecting?"

Morgana gave him another once over, "Just...not you." She went with. Merlin frowned, once again finding himself wondering if he'd just been insulted or not. Morgana turned away as if she was about to walk away. But then she grabbed Merlin's wrist and jerked him to follow her, clearly very used to getting what she wanted. Merlin nearly stumbled over his own feet trying to follow her. Morgana sat down, perched on the edge of her couch and urged Merlin down to sit beside her. "So Merlin, was it?" She started, rearranging her skirts so that they fell neatly around her legs.

Merlin dragged his eyes away from where he was studying the room and quickly gave Morgana his attention. "Uh, yeah, that's me. I mean, my name's Merlin."

'He was almost adorable,' Morgana thought privately to herself in amusement. 'The way that he was fumbling around.' She did wonder if Merlin would be able to make it around here though. The palace life was no place for those to fumble but who knows, maybe he'll survive anyway. She had seen some surprising things in her lifetime, maybe this 'Merlin' would surprise her as well.

"So Merlin," Morgana begin, folding her hands onto her lap. "Tell me about yourself." She was looking for something. She didn't know what she was looking for but anything that might be something concerning. She figured she'd find it when she found it and not a moment sooner.

Merlin glanced into her eyes and looked away. He brought a hand to rub through his hair nervously as he slouched in on himself. "There's not much to say. I grew up in a small village with my mother. And now I'm here in the palace with you and your family." 'And he had magic' but that was the last thing he was going to blurt out. Hell, it was probably the only thing in the world that he wouldn't just go blurting out.

"Oh, there's got to be more than that." Morgana insisted, giving Merlin a little playful push to his arm. But Merlin just looked at her blankly. Morgana may be used to the thousands of tidbits a nobleman could give about their life, because they had plenty of time to develop their own interest. But for a peasant like Merlin, all of his time had been in their fields. He had his interests of course, but nothing he could really have a conversation about since he didn't have much extra time to develop more than a passing fancy to it. "What about Arthur?" Morgana tried again. "Have you met him yet?" She hadn't heard anything but then again, she hadn't talked to Arthur today and anything could have happened in a day.

Merlin felt his face flush, remembering his encounters with Arthur. He groaned, sounding miserable as he slumped against the back of Morgana's couch, bringing a hand up to cover his face.

Morgana let a slow smile spread across her red painted lips. "So you have?" She asked smirking. She couldn't help but wonder what Arthur had thought of his new fiancé. "What was that like?"

"I tried to punch him." Merlin admitted. His arm still covering his face and his lips turned down, remembering the anger he'd felt that led to him punching him. "And don't even get me started when he tried to swing a mace at my head."

It took Morgana a minute to understand what he was saying. And when she did, she let out a gasp. "No way! That was you!" Of course she had heard about the peasant boy that had tried to take on Arthur. It was a rabid gossip going on among the city. Even Morgana had heard what had happened from some of the servants she had walked in on gossiping. They had only been all to eager to share the news. A slow smile widened her face. She had to admit, she had wanted to meet the one brave enough to do something like that. Or stupid enough to do it. She wasn't sure yet but either way, "I like you." She decided. How many times was she going to meet a peasant that actually went through with punching Arthur? That was a novelty if she'd ever heard one.

Merlin cautiously lowered his hand, finally raising his eyes to meet hers. "Really?" He asked surprised. He hadn't been expecting Arthur's own family to be happy that somebody had tried to punch him. But who know's, maybe Morgana thought the prince was annoying as he did.

"Oh, for sure." Morgana said firmly. "That man is a total jouster. It's about time somebody tried to knock some sense into him. Heavens knows nothing I've done has worked." Merlin couldn't stop himself from grinning. So it wasn't just him that wanted to smack Arthur. That was almost relieving to hear. "So, how'd he react?"

"...React?" Merlin asked, smile dipping into a frown of confusion.

"Yeah," Morgana said like it should have been obvious. She acted like she was brushing lint or dirt off the skirt of her dress but there was nothing actually there. It looked as pristine as it had when it had been brought to her. "When he found out the boy that tried to punch him was his fiancé? I would have loved to see it!" She could just imagine what his face would have looked like. It caused giggles to erupt from her from just the thought.

Merlin winced, "He doesn't know. Or at least he doesn't yet." Merlin cast a forlorn look towards the windows where he could see the sun starting to set. "But I'm sure he's about to soon." He was almost to scared to imagine Arthur's look when he realized that it was him. They hadn't exactly made a good impression off one another.

Morgana looked astonished by this. It hadn't occurred to her that Arthur wouldn't have known that it was Merlin. Now that she knew who he was, she just kind of figured that it was obvious but then again, Arthur couldn't see what was right in front of him half the time. "How does he not know?" Morgana finally scoffed, as if that was ridiculous.

"Well he doesn't seem to even know my name." Merlin pointed out.

Morgana couldn't argue with him there. "That's true. We were talking about you after we heard the news. I asked Arthur what your name was and he couldn't even tell me. But that was almost a week ago. I can't believe he still hasn't found out! You would think that's something he would want to know."

"You would think." Merlin grumbled. "Besides, what am I supposed to do? Go around saying, 'hey! I'm new in town. Why'd I move here? Because I'm marrying the Prince of Camelot.'" He stopped to mutter something else under his breath, Morgana had to strain to hear it. "Guys a freakin jackass anyway."

Morgana looked dumbfounded by this. The last thing she'd expected from somebody moving so much higher then their station by birth could afford was to curse out the one he was marrying. And honestly? Yes, that's exactly what Morgana would have expected. She had been expecting somebody who went around bragging about their new station, to go around making themself comfortable in her home, bossing around all of the people who were suddenly much lower than them. While also spending an absurd amount of gold suddenly at their disposal.

But Merlin wasn't doing that at all. Actually, from where he was slumped over in his seat, he actually looked kind of miserable. The last thing Morgana would have thought was somebody being miserable with the fortune that the Pendragon's had. There was literally no family in Camelot that was higher than the Pendragon family.

Morgana felt her painted lips curl up into a grin. "Arthur's gonna love this." She could just imagine how much Arthur and Merlin were going to clash. They were so different that it was amusing. Like night and day, or the sun and the moon, or the earth and the sky. Morgana didn't think that Uther could have chosen someone more different from Arthur if he'd actually tried.

And Morgana didn't even know about Merlin's magic. Just another thing that would mark how different Merlin was from Arthur. A boy with an affinity for magic forever tied to a boy who had no such affinity.

Merlin snorted, "I'm so sure he will." He said sarcastically.

Morgana felt herself straightening up, tugging on her skirts again. "Well I for one, Merlin, am glad that you are here."

Merlin glanced over curiously, "Yeah?" He asked.

"Of course!" Morgana said with a cheeky grin. "Uther is kind of protective and doesn't like me attending these events with just anybody." She stopped to roll her eyes. "I usually end up being forced to go with Arthur." She stopped again to give a little shrug. "He's the prince so he can't go with just anyone so it's always been me, you know?" Morgana was talking like he should know but honestly, Merlin was just confused. Why couldn't Arthur go with whoever he wanted to before? It seemed kind of dumb to him. Morgana just kept on talking, not noticing Merlin's confusion. "Anyway, now that you're here, I suppose you'll be attending these things with Arthur."

That brought Merlin up short and he couldn't begin to hide his shudder of dismay. "Attend things with him?" He looked at Morgana panicked. "Please tell me I don't have to actually attend things with him! Other than the wedding, that is."

Morgana almost shook her head at how naive he is. "Of course you will. We don't have them all the time but we have thrown a party here and there. Everyone whose anyone will be likely to attend. And now that Arthur's grown, he can't just go without a date. As his husband, that would fall to you."

"A date? A date." Merlin repeated, half to himself. He'd never been on a date before. He definitely wasn't looking forward to a first date being with Arthur of all people. And for it to be something he was obligated to attend with him? Arthur probably wouldn't even want to go with him to the next event if they weren't married. Not to mention, Merlin was sure he was going to make a fool out of himself. A party at the castle sounded like a lot of people, a lot of noble people. He could just imagine the kind of trouble he would cause. It wasn't the kind of date he would want, not by a long shot. Now that he was actually thinking about it, something small and intimate would be more fun. Some kind of date where it was just the two of them having private conversations and having fun getting to know each other. Where Merlin didn't feel like everybody was watching him, just waiting for him to make some kind of mistake.

But then he imagined the other person being Arthur and whatever date he had in his head vanished completely. Arthur was to much of a show off, liked being the center of attention to much. Merlin couldn't even begin to imagine Arthur being pleased with a date like Merlin would have wanted. It would be to small, just them. Even just a walk among the forest or checking out the city would have been something Merlin wanted more than a fancy party at the castle.

Morgana nodded, "And he has never asked me if I wanted to attend with him, not once. I mean, it was pretty much expected for us to go together but the least he could have done was asked." Morgana grinned cheekily, nudging Merlin's arm as she continued. "So the next time something is going on, make him ask for it. Cause he's not going to otherwise." She rolled her eyes. "It'll be fun seeing him actually ask for something. He usually just gets whatever he wants."

Merlin grinned a little, "Yeah, I'll be sure to get right on that." He couldn't imagine actually asking Arthur to ask him out on a date. Wasn't that a little desperate? Merlin could get his own date. Sure, he'd never actually been on one before, or been asked, or asked anybody, but he could get his own date surely. How hard could it be? He didn't need Arthur to ask him, he could always just go by himself if nobody wanted to ask out 'the prince's husband'.

Morgana let out a weary sigh, leaning back against her couch. "Well I guess this is the first of very many events that I will be attending alone."

Merlin kind of felt bad now. He didn't want to take something from the girl. Hell, Merlin would be more than happy to have Arthur take her instead. Especially if that meant that he could enjoy seeing what a grand party looked like without a blonde prat hanging over his shoulder. "I'm sorry," he said, not sure what else to say.

But then Morgana let a wide grin spread across her painted lips, more cheeky then the last. "Don't be, I'm going to have some fun tonight. Maybe a guy will actually approach me this time if I don't have Arthur hanging around." She rolled her eyes. "They all think I need protecting or some," she stopped to flutter her eyelashes with obvious over exaggeration. "Need some knight in shining armor to protect me."

Merlin almost snorted with laughter. It was just so ridiculous that he couldn't help himself. "Well I'm sure you don't." He said, grinning wide. If there was one thing he learned from his mother, never underestimate a woman. Hunith had to be strong, the strongest he knew, after all she'd gone through along with carrying around a child. Morgana, he could imagine Morgana having a similar strength. A gentle strength, almost, something that only rose up when it was needed.

Morgana looked surprised for a moment, her eyes softening. She'd never met a guy that believed her. They usually just said something along the lines of 'let the big, strong, men handle it sweetheart'. It had taken forever to convince Uther to let Arthur train her on her sword. And he'd only let her when she pointed out that anything could happen and she may end up alone without armed knights to protect her. After all, a girl needed to be able to protect herself more than waiting for help that may never come. He still hadn't been entirely convinced, positive that he would have the head of any knight who failed to keep her safe. But he'd eventually allowed it, granting Arthur permission to teach her a few moves that most women were never taught in their day to day lessons.

But even then, it had only been the basics. Enough where she could wield a sword efficiently enough if she had to but many of the knights were still much better. Still, thank god for small favors because she at least knew something. Which was more than she could say for her friends in the court who had looked absolutely scandalous when she told them what she had spent her afternoons doing.

But Morgana didn't say anything like that. She almost felt a lump in her throat but pushed it away. The last thing she needed to do was get over emotional on a stranger. Even if he didn't know he'd probably just said the nicest thing he could to her.

Morgana jumped to her feet, startling Merlin with the sudden motion. "Maybe you could help me out while you're here." She said brightly, heading over to her closet.

Merlin turned sideways, looking over the back of the couch in her direction confused, "With what?"

Morgana threw her closet doors open, reaching in and pulling out a slinky red dress. She held it up against her, showing the design off to Merlin. "What do you think of me wearing this one? It's your wedding so honest opinion. I've never got to wear this one before, but it's a little tease that will definitely give some boy's a night to remember."

Merlin didn't know a single thing about dresses but it looked fine to him. He definitely couldn't argue with her over some boy's remembering her in it. But then again, Morgana was pretty enough that she didn't need a 'teasing dress' to be remembered. All he could really tell about the dress was that it was a dark red color. "It looks pretty." He said helpfully.

"...Pretty." Morgana repeated, frowning. "It's just pretty." She turned to look at herself in the mirror with a curious look. She definitely thought it looked more than just pretty. But then again, Merlin was a boy, what did he know about dresses?

Seeing that he may have upset her, Merlin hopped to his feet and walked across the length of the room towards her. "Yeah! I just mean, it's beautiful. It's really...something." It was a beautiful dress. Merlin just didn't have any idea how to put that into words. His eyes flickered over her vanity when he caught sight of something. "Here." He carefully plucked the piece out of the small jewelry box sitting open on her vanity. "Why don't you add this to it. It'll really bring attention to your face:"

Morgana took the sparkling red jeweled piece into her hand. She grinned, bringing it up to her cheek to match the color of the stones with the dress and her skin tone. This particular piece of jewelry was supposed to be similar to a necklace. Only it rested on her forehead instead. Her thoughts started running, "And maybe some red glitter, for makeup around my eyes?"

Merlin and Morgana smirked at each other in their reflection in the mirror. "I think that'll go great." Merlin enthused. He was so busy helping Morgana that he'd all but forgotten that this was his wedding that she was dressing up for.

Morgana draped her red dress over her arm, intending for Gwen to help her dress when she finally arrived. "You know Merlin," she started, nudging his arm with her shoulder. "You aren't so bad after all."

"...Thanks." Merlin said confused. What did she mean he wasn't so bad? Did they think he would be? Why did he always seem to get more questions than he did answers for anything.

"The girls much really like your help when you have a ball back home." Morgana said brightly, moving passed him to lay the dress out on the back of her couch to stop it from wrinkling.

"I wouldn't know," Merlin said. "We don't have balls, or dances, or...anything, really, back home." He explained dismissively. He didn't think anything of it. It was just a fact of life. They lived in the middle of nowhere with the same people they've known all their lives. There was just to much work to do and nobody had the luxury of time or money to have a party. The handful of parties they did have over the years to celebrate something big only really consisted of a bonfire where everybody sat outside to eat instead of returning to their homes for dinner.

But Morgana gasped, looking at him confused. Merlin just looked back at her, equally as confused by her reaction. "You don't have balls?" She asked confused. Sure, Morgana was fully aware of people not being as privileged as she was but she had still been a noble from birth. There were just some things that hadn't occurred to her.

Merlin snorted, just imagining what a ball back home might look like. Everybody dressed in their best clothes which honestly; was probably what they wore in the fields that day. What was considered as 'best clothes' were usually clothes that didn't have a noticeable rip or tear in the fabric. "I live in a hut." He said bluntly. "There's nothing but huts and fields for miles. There's to much work to be done for anybody to even think about having a party."

"Really?" Morgana asked. "So that means...this is your first ball!" She realized. She had gone to her first one when she was ten. It was the usual standard age that parents started allowing their children to attend more 'adult events' instead of leaving them with the nurse maids. Even if most of the time, the child still got sent to bed early till they were at least sixteen. Or at least that was the way it had gone for Morgana and Arthur.

Merlin winced at the sound of incredulous in her voice. "That obvious, huh?" It's not like he had ever had a chance to go to one. The next village was miles away from them even by horseback. And even then it was no better off then they were despite being the slightest bit closer towards the inner kingdom.

Morgana shook it off, "Well don't worry. I can help you get used to things around here. Any questions about the castle, best servants, latest gossip, or anything else, don't hesitate to ask."

Merlin wouldn't be asking her much but that was only because he had so much to ask. And most of his questions were things she couldn't answer anyway. Things like what the dragon had said and things pertaining towards his magic. "Thanks." He still said because who knows, maybe he will ask for her help sometime.

It was obvious that Morgana was as different from Arthur as could be. And he couldn't be more thankful for that. At least there was someone in the family he wasn't worried about.

"So, do you know what you're wearing yet?" Morgana changed the subject, leaning back against her couch. "Because the wedding is in like, two hours." She pointed out, casting a glance towards her windows to see the position of the sun.

Merlin felt himself paling, two hours? No. That couldn't be right. But of course, when he turned and looked towards the windows himself, the sun was much further down then it had been the last time he'd looked. "It...it's that late already?" He asked shakily. He knew that it had been coming, it was hard to forget that it was almost here. But with his conversation with Morgana, he hadn't realized that the time had flown by much faster than he'd realized.

Morgana looked startled when she made a sudden realization. Merlin was scared. She knew Arthur was freaking out but somehow, it had escaped her notice that Merlin would be as well. She was so used to girls that practically threw themselves at the blonde, it never occurred to her that there would be somebody who wouldn't want to marry Arthur and get all that came with being married to a prince. He would get a castle, gold, be a part of a new lineage. It was a huge responsibility but also something desired by many.

"Merlin!" A sudden shout from the doorway got their attention. Both Morgana and Merlin jumped, necks snapping towards the door. The young girl in the doorway turned her head and shouted down the hall, "Rachael! Madame Teresa! I found him!" There was a sudden clatter down the hallway and two more people filled the doorway. It was the tailor and her two young assistants that had gotten Merlin's measurements earlier for his wedding clothes.

"We have been looking for you everywhere!" Madame Teresa exclaimed, hurrying into the room. She quickly bowed in the presence of a lady. "Please forgive us for the intrusion, Lady Morgana. But we must prepare Sir Merlin for tonight's events."

"Of course, it's no problem." Morgana said, waving her fingers daintily at them. Letting them know that it was no offense to her for them taking the boy away. She would be seeing him later tonight anyway.

"Sir Merlin!" The girl named Rachael grabbed onto one of his arms with a surprising grip. "Please come with us, we are running behind" She said frantically. The other girl, Rebecca, was her name, grabbed his other arm. Her grip was just as tight.

Merlin was still pale and didn't even put up a fight as the two teenage girls dragged him towards the door. Madame Teresa was practically on top of them, ushering all of the teens to the door. They nearly ran over Gwen who was just now entering the room. She fell back against the door, blinking dumbly when she saw all of the people suddenly hurrying out of her ladies room.

"M-Merlin?" Gwen said confused when she saw the boy in the middle.

"Hey Gwen." Merlin smiled weakly as the girls dragged him passed her. "We'll talk soon!" He called over his shoulder as the girl's hurried him down the hall and into his royal room, locking the door behind them as they did so.

Gwen watched them go frowning, wondering what in the world had she missed while she'd been away. She would have been here sooner but she had ran into Browen who was making her way to Lady Helena's suite. And damn, could that girl ramble on.

Gwen finally looked to her mistress who had started fidgeting with the dress that she was planning on wearing tonight. "What was Merlin doing here?" She finally asked.

Morgana looked up with a grin, "Oh? You've met Merlin then?" Morgana's grin turned to a cheeky smirk. "Haven't you heard Gwen? That right there, is Arthur's fiancé."

Gwen felt her jaw drop and her eyes bug out. What? No, that couldn't be. If Merlin was Arthur's fiancé, then that meant he was practically royalty. She felt her face flushing as she remembered the conversation she'd had with Merlin just this morning. She had talked to him like she would have anybody she met on the street. Definitely not how somebody should address royalty. Even if that royal had been in the stocks at the time. She felt herself start to panic because duh, she had met a royal tied to the stocks. She hadn't talked to him like he was above her, which was essentially what all nobles expected of those that worked for them. Oh god, she was going to lose her job. Mainly because there was no way she could show her face around here again if word got out about how Gwen had treated their new royal.

While Gwen was freaking out, Morgana was looking towards her door where Merlin had disappeared through. She had just the hint of an almost fond smile on her face. She had a feeling that she had just met a new friend, a friendship that would last a lifetime.

If only she knew then what would someday become of her and Merlin. Maybe she wouldn't have made the choices she did. Maybe things could have been different. Maybe her life wouldn't have been a tragedy and maybe Merlin wouldn't have to live with the guilt of knowing he'd failed her.

But she didn't know. She wouldn't until it was far to late to go back and change things.

On the far side of the castle, Browen was carefully headed up the stairs so that she wouldn't drop her 'gift'. It was a large bowl carefully prepared by the kitchen servants, filled to the brim with a variety of fruit since nobody knew what Lady Helena's preferences were.

Browen hadn't been allowed to prepare the food herself, she wasn't surprised. She'd barely been allowed in the kitchens since that horrible incident with the important nobleman that had been visiting a while back.

It had all started so normal. Browen had been in the kitchens doing her duties but had gotten side tracked because one of the other serving girls had tripped and made a mess of broken plates all over the floor where Browen had to be. It had taken forever to clean so Browen had been running later than usual. It just so happened that it had been her turn to plate the prince's breakfast that morning

The prince's manservant Morris, hadn't been pleased at all when he'd arrived and the prince's breakfast still wasn't prepared. Browen had hurried up and managed to get the food plated and ready in a surprisingly fast manner. But Morris had still spat a scathing remark in her direction before hurrying out.

The next week had been when the visiting nobleman had gotten food poisoning. And his plate happened to be the one that Browen had given to him. So it had been deemed as her fault.

Browen was positive that it was Morris who had done something. She'd seen him lingering around the food just before they had brought it to the king and his guests. He'd seen surprisingly flustered for somebody who had been doing nothing and had left quite fast afterwards. Browen had just brushed it off as Morris having a weird quirk before leaving.

She'd been more surprised than anybody when she'd been approached by the steward the next day. Someone had accused her of doing something to the food. She swore it was Morris but the steward had refused to entertain her theories. She had been lucky to keep a job in the castle after that. It had been deemed an unfortunate accident but she still wasn't deemed trustworthy to work with the food any longer. That was how she ended up being a delivery girl.

And now it looked like it was all going to work out because she was going to meet someone she very much admired. She was going to meet Lady Helena right now. God, she hoped she didn't make a fool out of herself. She always had a way of rambling in a way that made her so embarrass but she just couldn't stop. It was like she just didn't have an off button or something.

Morris had no doubt thought that he'd done something horrible to her. The way he smirked at her whenever she would pass him in the hallways. But the joke was on Morris. She would accept the fact that the new job came with a paycut, her earnings being only half of what she made in the kitchens. But with her fiancé's salary, the two of them would be able to make it. And she liked being a delivery girl more than a kitchen servant anyway. She was finally able to get out of the kitchens and talk to more than just the people she saw everyday.

So the joke was on Morris. The manservant still didn't know that Browen was actually happier.

And that was why she was now biting her lip, trying to force down her growing smile but unable to do so as she approached the door to Lady Helena's room. She had almost a death grip on the bowl in her hands, using it as an anchor to stop her hands from shaking. God, she was so nervous. She would probably make a fool of herself in front of the Lady Helena. It wouldn't be the first time she'd felt like she'd been made a fool of.

Browen hoped her hair wasn't a mess. The way she'd braided her blonde locks to look like a crown around her head was practically falling out after her long day of work. There was long thick strands that had already fallen out and were framing her face. She probably did look like a right mess, especially in front of such an important woman. But she couldn't think about that now. Not when she was so close to Lady Helena.

Browen took a large and shaky breath, trying to get her nerves under control. Carefully balancing the bowl of fruit in one hand as to not drop it, she rose her other hand to the door. Hesitating for a moment, she quickly tapped her fist against the wooden door before she could talk herself out of doing this. Before she could go back and convince one of the other less embarrassing servants to bring the bowl up to Lady Helena.

For a heart stopping moment, Browen almost thought that Lady Helena wasn't in. That had to be the reason that she wasn't answering her door. The young serving girl bit her lip nervously, wondering if she should try and knock again. Just in case the singer hadn't heard her the first time.

But before she could get up the nerve to do it, the door swung open. And there she was, Lady Helena in all of her finery. Her black hair was thick and puffed up, a long braid curling over her shoulder. The yellow gown she wore was more beautiful than anything Browen could have been able to afford.

She was beautiful and Browen felt her face flush. But Helena just looked at her with pursed lips and a sour look on her face.

Swallowing hard and half convinced that she had already done something wrong, Browen quickly curtsied. "Lady Helena." She said shakily, eyes flickering up to meet the ladies before quickly looking back down in embarrassment. "Compliments of the king." She held up the bowl of fruit she carried as if to have proof of her claim.

Lady Helena's sour expression finally shifted to a more lighthearted one. It made Browen relax, hoping that she hadn't screwed up already. Lady Helena stepped back, opening her door further with an almost teasing smile. "Come in."

Browen grinned wide, quickly entering the room. She couldn't believe this was really happening. She couldn't believe that she was actually here in 'The Lady Helena's' room. She hadn't expected to get this far, honestly hadn't expected to be allowed in.

Glancing around the room, Browen carefully set the bowl of fruit down on the side of Helena's vanity. Throwing a look over her shoulder to where Helena was just now shutting her door, she started to talk. "The steward wanted me to make sure that you're ready, for Prince Arthur's wedding." She clarified, as if Helena wouldn't have known what she meant.

Helena glanced her over before dropping her eyes to the bowl of fruit. Helena casually made her way across the room, an almost demure smile on her lips now. "I couldn't be more ready." She said, carefully tugging one of the bright red apples out of the bowl. It had been carefully selected, as had all the fruit in the bowl, to make sure that it looked as pristine as possible. That there were no bruises or imperfections in the bowl. The kitchen girls had wanted to make sure that there wasn't a single thing such a distinguished guest as Lady Helena was, could complain about.

Browen didn't know what it was but the way Lady Helena had said that sentence. It just gave her an eerie shiver down her spine. But she brushed it away. She was just feeling tired after her long day, that had to be it. Just her overthinking things that weren't there.

Browen watched as Helena brought the red apple to her painted lips. "This is a sweet gift." She said quietly, taking a large bite out of her apple. She felt the juices sliding down her throat, forcing herself to swallow the horrid apple. It was the tastiest thing she'd ever tasted but at the same time, knowing who gave it to her made it taste like ash. "How will I ever repay him?" She was already thinking of a multitude of things she could do. And every one of them involved the king's son in some way, her favorites were the ones that were particularly bloody. She doubted she would be able to do one of those fantasies, considering the small window of opportunity she had for her plan.

Browen, completely oblivious to the woman's thoughts, smiled happily. She was thinking that Lady Helena must be nervous, having to get up and sing in front of all those important people. It was almost relieving to know that someone as famous as Lady Helena could get nervous. It brought some hope to a girl like Browen. "I'm sure that he'll be happy to just hear you sing. Prince Arthur as well." She said brightly. To keep herself busy, she started going around the room, cleaning up along the way. The Lady had clearly made herself comfortable in her temporary room with such a large mess that she had made. Not that Browen mentioned it. She would do almost anything to be able to stay in the presence of such a great lady even longer. "I'm sure they will both love your singing!" Browen kept going, picking up a stray nightgown from the arm of the couch, starting to fold it up. "And the prince's fiancé! I'm sure she will be thrilled as well! I know I'm looking forward to seeing it!" Browen was one of the lucky servants that would be working the party. So she'll be able to stand in the back with the other servants and watch Lady Helena's performance.

"So am I." Helena said quietly, taking another over large bite of the apple. She chewed slowly, barely paying the girl's rambling any attention. Her mind was still on all of the way's that she could get rid of Arthur Pendragon.

"I love singing, you know." Browen kept on talking, unaware that Helena had basically tuned her out. "I sing all the time." She stopped to toy with the petals on a vase of fresh daises sitting on the vanity. "My betrothed tells me I have the voice of a fallen angel. I wonder if the prince's fiancé likes to sing. Have you met her yet? Nobody knows who she is or where she came from. I bet she does though. Nothing less than the best for Prince Arthur."

Browen reached for a cloth that was slung over the mirror, covering the glass completely. There was no possible way to see the reflection. She didn't think anything of it, nor of the way that it was precisely hung.

Helena's head snapped to the side, watching as the cloth she'd hung was snatched off the mirror before she could stop the dumb blonde haired serving girl. She had hung that cloth after she'd almost been caught by the serving boy delivering the real Helena's potion.

As the cloth fell away from the mirror, Helena was standing directly in full view of the glass. Both Browen and Helena's eyes connected in the reflection. Helena didn't make a single move, not even to look distraught, at being caught. Browen though, her breath got stuck in her throat and she snapped her head to the side to look at Lady Helena in person instead of the reflection.

Only it wasn't Lady Helena. Yes, the woman in front of her looked just like the lady was said to. But the woman in the reflection showed another person. It showed the wornout, rats nest for hair, wrinkles everywhere, and very much old and world weary, Mary Collins.

Browen didn't say a word to the false Helena. She dropped the cloth and made a mad dash for the door. Her mouth was already opened, trying to force her voice to work so that she could yell for the guards. Browen didn't think about the fact that Helena was standing in her path to the door.

It was only all to easy for the false Helena to grab Browen by her lower arm as she tried to pass. She had a surprisingly strong grip for somebody that looked like either Helena or Mary did. Browen couldn't utter a word, feeling her eyes brim with tears. Somehow, someway, she knew that this was it. This was how she was going to die.

Browen let out a meek whimper, unable to get more than a frightful squeak out. She could feel Helena's fingers digging into her skin. Browen was stuck looking into Helena's eyes. Her dark eyes that suddenly looked a lot darker than they had before.

Helena shushed the young serving girl. She sounded as if she was a mother trying to shush her young child as he went to sleep. So comforting and warm but all Browen felt was dread. Her eyes were rimmed red with her unshed tears, knowing that there was nothing that she could do. She was frozen with fear, unable to even scream for help from any guard that happened to be nearby.

But even if she had been able to yell for help, there was nobody around to hear her. All of the guards were downstairs, doing security for the wedding.

The wedding she'll never get to witness.

Browen let out a choked off cry, feeling herself suddenly get weaker and weaker. It was like all of the life was draining out of her, the fear in her wide eyes slowly dimming. She could barely stand on her feet, feeling all of her muscles that kept her standing weakening to nothing. And then she was being eased down onto the ground, the life fading from her eyes.

The last thing Browen saw was Lady Helena looming over her, still shushing at her.

On the other side of the castle, high up in one of the many towers, Merlin was in his room. He was being prepared to get married. He would have to go downstairs and say 'I Do' in front of strangers. He could feel the lump in his throat as the minutes drew nearer. All he wanted to do was run, make a break for it, stop this from happening.

But he couldn't. He'd never felt so...helpless, in his life. It was a strange and unwelcoming feeling. At least it didn't throw him into a panic attack this time like it had when he'd first been made aware of his unfortunate predicament.

Right now, Merlin was behind his changing screen, sitting down in a large metal tub for his bath. Apparently he was to dirty to just get married so he had to have a bath first. Merlin almost wanted to walk outside and roll around in a mud puddle somewhere and then walk into his wedding like that.

Just to stick it to the people forcing him to do this. But he didn't and not because he was almost scared of what Madame Teresa would do to him. For such a small woman, she was a surprising force to be reckon with. He didn't think that he would like to get on her bad side, not when he was still pretty much a stranger.

Merlin cleaned himself almost meticulously, mostly just so he could stay in it longer. He'd never had a bath before. At least not from sitting in a metal tub that had been filled with buckets of water that had been heated over a fire as they set it up behind his screen to allow him some mediocre of privacy.

He sunk in some, letting the water lap at his chin. It was so warm he didn't want to get out. His washes had always consisted of a bucket of water and a cloth to scrub down with. This was an entirely new experience that he didn't want to leave from. And not just because the longer he rested here, the longer it would be before he was forced into his 'wedding attire'.

He almost hadn't been able to get a bath at all because Madame Teresa had been trying to convince him to allow her to call some serving girls or a manservant to help him wash. He'd been washing himself since he was a small child, having someone come in to do it for him had been a hard no.

She'd finally relented but that didn't mean she'd gone either. He was behind the privacy screen because Madame Teresa, and her two assistants, Rachael and Rebecca, were on the other side doing last minute things to his clothes.

"Merlin, dear!" Madame Teresa called from the other side. "Are you done? I don't mean to rush you but we are on a bit of a time crunch now."

Merlin gave a heavy sigh, sounding far more weary than he should at nineteen. "Yeah," he finally called out. "I'm coming!"

"Are you sure you don't want me to call for those serving girls to come help you!" Madame Teresa called from the other side of the changing screen. "It'll be more efficient and really, that's how things are usually done."

Merlin had to fight not to roll his eyes, "I do not need help bathing." He called over to her, running his hands through his hair to make sure all the soap was out of it after he'd just finished washing it. He wasn't going to sit there and let strangers bathe him. Hell, he wouldn't even want people he did know to bathe him. He didn't care if that was 'how things were done'. He wasn't one of those royal prat's like Arthur, he could get things done without a servant at his beck and call. Just because he was marrying Arthur didn't mean that he was going to sit on his arse all day making dumbass commands that other people had to follow.

Merlin grabbed the edges of the metal tub and pulled himself out. Water droplets slid down his slim body, forming a small puddle around him as he carefully climbed out. Merlin snatched his towel down from where it was hanging over the top of the changing screen.

He took a little longer than usual to run it through his hair to dry it. Then he was scrubbing at his body, taking his time to get rid of all of the water that practically clung to him. When he was dry, Merlin picked his small clothes set to the side and slid them over his hips. They were the only clothes he was allowed to put on right now since he was being dressed up in something entirely different.

He could hear Rebecca and Rachael talking to each other on the other side but couldn't hear what exactly they were saying. He had tuned them out, to busy hearing nothing else other than his own heartbeat. His heartbeat that was picking up the pace, now that his wedding was actually happening.

The few days that he'd spent here in Camelot wasn't nearly enough to prepare him for the lifetime that he would have. How was he supposed to get used to it? Get used to Arthur? He couldn't imagine waking up ten-twenty years from now and thinking that this was his life. That this was his home and where he belonged.

That he would wake up looking forward to spending his day with Arthur. He couldn't begin thinking about the day that would come where he would actually be happy to see Arthur.

But then again, Merlin doubted his happiness was very important in this situation.

When he couldn't find any other reason to stall, to make his time seem just a little bit longer, Merlin finally walked out from the changing screen. He was almost immediately attacked by Rachael and Rebecca. Madame Teresa stood nearby with her arms crossed, watching everything with a keen eye.

Maybe Merlin would have felt a little more self conscious about being in just his small clothes but with everything going on, it was pushed straight to the back of his mind. It was like a whirlwind, a rush to get everything prepared.

He had to almost wrestle his pants out of Rebecca's hands when she tried to help him dress. There were some things that he would definitely prefer to do on his own. The last thing he wanted was to turn into Arthur who apparently needed a manservant to help him dress.

Merlin still wasn't entirely sure if he was marrying a toddler or not.

Merlin was finally dressed in his dark black pants and he marveled at the feel of them against his skin. The dark color was made out of a velvety fabric that was soft to the touch, unlike anything he'd ever actually worn before. And to his surprise, the assisting girls had been spot on with their measurements. The pants stopped right before they reached his feet, covering his ankles. They didn't feel like they were a touch to snug which was a strange feeling in itself. He was used to clothes that were just slightly to ill fitting to be worn properly.

After his pants were on, Merlin slid his feet into the dark brown boots. They looked similar to his other boots but these were clearly made of a more expensive material. His feet slid in with ease and Rachael and Rebecca swooped down on them.

The two girls had been desperate to actually do something as it was their job to make sure he was dressed. To make sure that they had done alright and hadn't made any mistakes with the measurements or such.

Merlin couldn't have stopped them if he tried from helping tuck his long pants into his boots.

"Alright girls, now the top." Madame Teresa said, holding up the top for them to help Merlin into. And just like Madame Teresa had wanted when they were measuring him, the top was a cobalt blue shade. Although he still wasn't sure what made it cobalt, all he could see was that it was a darkish blue.

"I can do it myself." Merlin said quickly, taking the shirt before the two girls could grab it.

"Nonsense!" Madame Teresa spluttered. She had indulged the boy with letting him get his pants on but surely her girls could help him with the shirt. This just wasn't how things were normally done! Others were supposed to help a nobleman dress. They had so many things on their mind, they shouldn't have to bother with the day to day things that needed to be done when others could do it for them.

"I agree," Merlin said bluntly, already pulling the shirt over his head. His voice was muffled for a minute as he kept talking. "It's nonsense to need help getting myself dressed." He finished, still trying to get his arms through one of the sleeves.

Rebecca stepped up behind him to pull the back of his shirt down only to let out a startled gasp. By that point. Merlin had already tugged the silk shirt on straight.

Everybody looked at the girl confused.

"What on earth happened to you!" Rebecca blew up, eyes wide.

Merlin looked at her baffled, "What are you talking about?" He asked, feeling his eyes furrowed together in his confusion. Madame Teresa and Rachael looked just as confused by this turn of events.

"Your back!" Rebecca exclaimed. "It was covered in scratch marks! Those weren't there when we were measuring you!"

"What?!" Rachael gasped.

Merlin felt as if he was some kind of puppet on a string or something as the other two girls hurried around to his backside. Then Madame Teresa was lifting up his shirt to his shoulders, bearing the scratch marks on his shoulder blades to her assistants.

Rachael let out a startled gasp at the vivid red marks and Rebecca moaned in disbelief.

"Oh no! What will the prince think when he sees these!" Madame Teresa wailed. She acted as if the marks were on her body instead of on somebody else's.

It took Merlin by surprise. It also took an embarrassingly long minute to realize what they were talking about. The scratch marks on his shoulder blades. It was only when Madame Teresa moaned about the prince did he realize what they were looking at.

The scratch marks on his back that he'd gotten during his fight with Arthur. From hitting the ground so many times like he'd had. His thin shirt had offered practically no protection from the harsh landings. They weren't as bad as they were due to the cream Uncle Gaius had smeared on them but it would still take a few days for them to go away completely. No wonder his bath water had stung when he'd gotten in. He'd thought it was because he just wasn't used to hot water.

That was when Merlin realized what Madame Teresa said. "I doubt the prince will be seeing my back any time soon." He said dryly, pulling away so that he could tug his shirt back down where it was supposed to be.

Rachael snorted, "What? Are you going to do things tonight with your clothes on?" She asked with an almost crude grin. Rebecca gasped, face flushing. She slapped her friend on the arm, looking scandalous.

"Now girls, you know that business between Merlin and the prince is none of yours." Madame Teresa gave a very light hearted scolding.

Merlin glanced between the three girls dumbly, having no idea what they were talking about. "Do what?" He asked confused.

None of the girls actually gave him an answer. In fact, he was rushed to his desk for them to help him finish dressing.