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!

26. Chapter 26

Carrying the armor back through the lower town was almost more difficult than Merlin thought it would be. Especially since he had to keep telling George that he didn't need any help getting it back. If Merlin could carry it all the way to Gwen's house, then he could carry it back to the training grounds.

The training grounds.

That was where he was heading now, walking at a much faster pace across the lower town than he'd had the first time. He had to be fast, otherwise he wouldn't make it to the tournament in time.

According to George, the competitors were being prepared for their fights. Everyone was starting to get dressed in their armor as the tournament was scheduled to start in barely an hour's time. And Merlin was sure that Arthur was about to find out that his armor was gone. And that was only if he hadn't figured it out already.

No doubt Arthur would be pissed when he discovered that Merlin had taken it. And he would have nobody to blame but himself. He had meant to leave Gwen's much earlier than he had. They'd just got to talking about Arthur, and favors...so he'd lost track of time.

Somehow, he didn't think Arthur would accept that kind of excuse.

At the thought of favors and Gwen, Merlin stumbled over his own feet. But he caught himself and kept moving as if it hadn't happened.

Although Merlin had decided to take his shot and give Arthur a favor, everything seemed to be different now. Maybe it was the light of the sun, or the odd air that seemed to be around him. He didn't know what it was, but he was starting to doubt if he should give Arthur a damn favor. And all of his doubt was written all over his face.

The way he was biting at his lips was a keen sign. Not to mention his fingers that were anxiously tapping away against the cold metal in his arms.

Yes, Merlin would admit that it would be fun to see Arthur's face if he greeted him with a favor. But at the same time, Merlin had no idea how he was even supposed to approach him with something like that.

Was he supposed to just hold out his favor? And then tell Arthur it would be an honor if the prince wore his favor? Somehow, Merlin didn't think Arthur would go for that. And there was no way in hell that Merlin was going to ask Arthur to 'honor him' by wearing his favor.

Merlin had more pride than that.

Maybe he could go at this with a different approach. Maybe when Arthur wasn't looking, Merlin could just tie it around his bicep. The prat had his head so far up his own arse, maybe he wouldn't even notice until it was to late.

...That plan actually had more potential then the first one did. But at the same time, it didn't feel right either. Did he really want to trick Arthur into wearing it? He would never find out if there could be more between them than this strong annoyance/hatred they seemed to have fallen into.

Maybe Gwen was right and he was just overthinking things.

Not that any of this mattered anyway. Even if Merlin figured out how to do it, he still didn't have an actual favor to give Arthur.

His face looked downtrodden, and his shoulders slumped in an almost depressed manner. Stressing over a favor was going to get him nowhere if he didn't even have one to offer Arthur.

But this was almost more than just about giving Arthur a favor. The truth of the matter was hitting Merlin hard, like a punch to the stomach.

It wasn't just a favor he couldn't give Arthur, it was everything. Merlin literally had nothing to offer the blonde.

Arthur had this castle, and this kingdom, and all of this fancy gear that Merlin was holding. No wonder Arthur was always acted like a bitch towards him most of the time. The prince had probably grown up expecting to marry some princess. A princess with the kind of wealth that Arthur was accustomed to, who already knew about this stupid custom Merlin was trying to follow along with.

And instead, all he had gotten was Merlin. Merlin who, by the way, would never be able to give Arthur anything of substantial value.

Merlin wouldn't had even been able to get the pair of them a decent set of rings. The ones they wore now had been provided to him by Arthur's wealthy family.

If somehow, things were different and Arthur hadn't been born a prince. If he and Merlin had met under different circumstances, he wouldn't have been able to provide the prince with anything. Hell, their rings would have probably been straw or a piece of twine that Merlin had to tie together to form some kind of poorly done makeshift ring.

He had nothing to his name, nothing more than the clothes on his back. And who would want only Merlin, and he couldn't even give the prince all of himself. Merlin would only be able to give the prince half of himself, so that gave him even less of a chance than before.

Even if Arthur and him did start getting along, Merlin would probably never trust him enough to tell him that he had magic.

He didn't think it'd be enough, especially for a spoiled prince who'd had every single one of the advantages that life could give. Compared to Merlin who probably had every disadvantage in the world.

He was poorer than most peasants, and grew up in the smallest village in his kingdom. He had his magic, the very thing that he felt was the most remarkable thing about him, and he couldn't even share that for fear of death.

Not to mention, knew absolutely nothing about this royal stuff that he was supposed to know because he was now a consort.

He was probably the worse person in all of the land that Uther could have married off to his son.

Scowling, Merlin's fingers started tapping more harshly against the metal. He could hear the thump, thump, thump, of vibration as his fingers would hit against it.

Merlin had his faults, and far more than he liked to admit. There wasn't much he could do to change that, it was just a fact. But there was one thing he knew he could do to hopefully, change things around.

He could learn, even if Arthur thought he wasn't smart enough to do it. He could figure things out, starting with this stupid armor.

Merlin picked up the speed as he crossed over the bridge that connected the inner city to the lower town. It was like there had been a fire lit under him, an intense desire to pull all of this off.

This entire thing was more than just about Merlin trying to keep Morris from touching Arthur. Although, and he hated to admit it after how Arthur had been treating him, it hadn't been a pleasant sight to witness. And yes, it was a huge contributor to Merlin deciding to go through with this armor thing.

And yes, he may also want to impress Arthur with something as simple as this, if you could call all of the buckles and latches simple. He wanted to show Arthur that he could learn, all he needed was a chance to try. He wanted Arthur to bite his tongue for once and admit that Merlin did a good job, even if it killed the prat to do it.

But this was bigger than that. This stupid armor that he was holding, it meant something more than just being capable of putting it on Arthur.

Merlin had something to prove to himself, more than he did to Arthur. If he could get this together, then he would know that he belonged. It would be as if he'd finally taken a step in the right direction, that he'd found his footing and could find a real place here in Camelot, as consort.

And maybe, with just a bit of luck, he'd even be able to afford giving Arthur a real favor someday, instead of whatever mockery of one he managed to find today. If he even managed to give one to Arthur, because he still didn't know how he was going to go about getting Arthur to actually wear one.

"Sir Merlin?" George asked from behind him. His new manservant had been walking half a step behind him their entire trek to the training grounds, and he was still carrying the pitcher of juice that Merlin had requested him to get. The juice that Merlin hadn't even bothered to drink.

He kind of felt bad about that, because he didn't exactly need a drink. He'd only sent George away so that Merlin would be free to get his hands on Arthur's armor. And the only way he was able to do that without being seen, had been using his magic.

"Yes, George?" Merlin asked, taking a deep breath through his nose to calm himself. Because as bad as he felt about sending George on a fruitless errand, the manservant had constantly been on his case since he'd gotten him from Gwen's.

He really hoped that George wasn't going to ask him 'again' if he liked his assistance with carrying the armor. It had been Merlin that had taken the armor, it was only right that he be the one to bring it back.

"I just wanted to inform you that we have arrived." George said, his tone holding more professionalism than Merlin thought was warranted.

"...Thank you, George." Merlin said, his eye twitching as he pulled to a stop on the edge of the training grounds. The training grounds was the designated spot for all of the knights to get prepared before the first round. It was probably the only place in all of the city that was big enough to hold the great number of knights that had shown up to compete.

The last time Merlin had been at the training grounds, it was when he was stealing Arthur's armor. There had been a great number of people out there before they'd dispersed to rest before the competition.

But if Merlin had thought it was a lot of people before, it was absolutely nothing compared to the amount of people out there now. Apparently the more cockier knights hadn't thought they needed the extra spot of training and had spent their morning resting or hanging out in a very lazy fashion with other cocky knights.

Those would probably be the first to lose.

But now, there were dozens and dozens of young and fit knights roaming the grounds.

Working his way through the crowd, Merlin looked at the knights he passed by with a curious and appreciative eye. Some of these knights were shoving off, flexing their bulging biceps. But still, even if some has biceps much rounder than Arthur's, Merlin barely gave each knight a brief glance.

They weren't who he was looking for.

Arthur's was better looking anyway, even if he'd never seen them without the prince's sleeves in the way.

All of the knights that he passed were being helped into their armor by a manservant. Merlin didn't see one other consort out there helping. Was he really the only one out there? Weren't any of these knights married as well?

Merlin's eyes darted this way and that, trying to find a familiar head of blonde hair. But everyone he saw had dark hair, or their hair wasn't the right kind of blonde shade.

Each knight in the training grounds had a table set up beside them. It had all of their gear spread out on top of it, Merlin supposed it was because these fancy knights didn't want to dirty up their equipment before the big fight. He could just imagine Arthur was in this crown somewhere, his own table as bare as it had been when it had arrived.

Fuck, Arthur really was going to kill him if he didn't find him in time. But with such a large crowd, the more worried Merlin appeared to get.

Luckily, he did find Arthur in time and for once, Merlin was happy that Arthur had such a big mouth.

He heard Arthur long before he saw him, he heard his screaming actually. Merlin probably would have rolled his eyes, if it hadn't been purely his fault that the blonde was screaming.

Even in this large crowd of people, where everyone was talking louder than everybody else, Arthur still managed to make himself the loudest of them all. No doubt because of the big mouth he had, and Merlin knew all about that mouth.

And not because Arthur ever gave him a real kiss like a husband should. Maybe he was still bitter about that lackluster one he'd gotten on their wedding.

The only reason Merlin knew anything about Arthur's mouth was because of how much the prince loved to run it. He never did shut up, did he?

Merlin had to push himself through two knights that were standing back to back, getting prepared by their manservants. And that was when he saw him.

Of course Arthur would be in the direct center of the crowd, he did seem like he loved being the center of attention a little to much. Because that was where he saw the blistering blonde, all puffed up in indignant anger. He was dressed up in his chain mail, ready and willing to go, if he only had his armor.

He also had his hands planted firmly on his hips, and his eyes literally looked as if they were the pits of hell.

Maybe Merlin should turn back while he still had the chance...no, he wouldn't give Arthur that kind of satisfaction if he ever found out that Merlin had basically ran away.

"What do you mean you have no idea where my armor is!" Arthur was shouting, gesturing in angry motions to his own little table set up. And just like Merlin thought, it was the only table that was empty.

"It's not my fault, sire!" Morris exclaimed, sounding almost desperate. Merlin almost would have felt bad for him, if he hadn't been groping his husband.

But all Morris managed to do, trying to resolve himself of any responsibility, was make Arthur even madder. The prince almost looked as if he wanted to hit the manservant, or at least throw him in the stocks for hours on end.

"What do you mean it's not your fault!" Arthur shouted, his voice rising with every word. "I literally gave you one job to do, one!" He shouted, shoving one finger into Morris' face to emphasize. "And you couldn't even do that right!"

Morris tried to make this right, he had to make this right. It was the only reason he'd still shown up, even knowing that he still hadn't found the armor he'd spent almost two hours doing nonstop searching for.

"I believe that it was stolen, sire!" The manservant said quickly, before Arthur could start yelling at him again.

But that didn't seem to help matter when the prince snapped, "While it was under your watch?" And his eyes were narrowing into little hateful slits.

This was not happening, not to Prince Arthur Pendragon, he was not going to drop out because his stupid little manservant lost his armor just hours before the biggest competition of the year.

If somebody had actually stolen his armor, he would be reining hell down on the person who had been stupid enough to do it. But surely his manservant had just misplaced it, peasants weren't that smart after all. Nobody was stupid enough to actually steal the armor of the prince...right.

"S-someone really did steal it it, maybe one of the knights-" Morris froze when Arthur's glare went harsher. Right, this was verging on Morris accusing an esteemed knight of theft, because nobility couldn't possibly be thief's. "O-or their manservant." Morris corrected himself weakly. "They took it in an attempt to make it so that you wouldn't be able to compete, so that their master could win..."

Arthur turned away, glaring hard at the ground as he planted his hands on his empty table. All of his muscles were tense, his back muscles especially were straining through his chainmail. "Then there will be a full inquiry of all of the manservants the other knights brought with them." He hissed. He would just have to make sure that the referee called his fight last. Surely that would give him enough time to track down the idiot that thought they could steal from him.

"If you would like, sire." Morris said, trying to make things up to his master, while also cursing his own incompetence. He should have kept a better eye on Arthur's armor, especially before such an important competition. He wouldn't be making that mistake again. "I could run down to the armory, and gather you a spare set."

"No." Arthur dismissed immediately. "There's no chance that you could make it there, and back in time." He had to alert his father to this setback, before Uther found out when it was announced that Arthur had been disqualified.

But how was he going to face his father? Knowing that he had failed yet again. He hadn't taken Merlin's virtue, and he wouldn't win this contest. Hell, he wouldn't even get the chance to show that he could win.

At this rate, he might as well give up while he was still ahead, before his father found out everything.

And then everything changed, and Arthur jolted back startled. He had to refrain from, in a very undignified manner for a man of his position, throwing out a curse. That was no doubt due to Merlin's frequent use of them.

But still, Arthur had to wonder when he had gotten so lax that he could be surprised. It wasn't a good skill for a knight to have, it was something that he hadn't had before Merlin had disrupted everything. In fact, the only other time he'd been so laxed was...actually, when he'd been fighting Merlin in the marketplace and Arthur kept stumbling into everything.

And speaking of the devil...

"There you go, Arthur!" Merlin said brightly, pushing himself away from the table. "One shining set of armor for one prat of a prince, a perfect match, wouldn't you say? I only hope I didn't drop anything on the way here."

Okay, so maybe Merlin hadn't made it in time before Arthur discovered it was gone. But that didn't mean that Merlin couldn't act as if it was totally normal for him to take Arthur's armor.

Merlin kept rambled on about nothing in particular, touching one of the shin guards on the table. He readjusted it, as if the angle it was already in was somehow wrong. But really, he just needed to have something to do with his hands.

Arthur looked dumbstruck, staring down at the armor spread out on the table. It looked like everything was there, even his helmet. Although it looked as if it helmet was being held up because it was perched on top of his other shin guard.

"You..." Arthur said faintly, eyes narrowing down on Merlin's hand touching his armor as the dots connected in his mind. "...You took my armor?" When he had wondered who would be stupid enough to take his armor, he should have known immediately who it was.

"Took is a relative word." Merlin said, not looking away from where he was starting to straighten out the armor, just so it would look as neat as the other tables did. And yes, he did have to glimpse over just to make sure the layout of the gear was similar, although he was pretty sure his still wasn't right. "I prefer the term 'borrowed'. I did bring it back, after all. And right on time as well."

"On time!" Arthur exclaimed, having to drag his eyes away from Merlin's pale hands that were touching all over his armor, and laying it out exactly the wrong way in the process. "You call this on time! The tournament is starting in less than an hour!"

"...Sounds like right on time to me." Merlin said dryly. "You really must learn how to tell time if you think less than an hour before is late."

"...must learn..." Arthur spluttered. "What on earth were you doing to my armor!" He shouted. Then he was turning his head to shoot Morris a sharp look. "Morris! Check it over!"

He doubted that Merlin had actually done something to it on purpose. But at the same time, his consort had taken it and who knows what that clumsy fool had managed to do to it while it had been in his possession.

Morris acted quickly, shooting Merlin a cold look as he walked passed. He bumped his shoulder into the consort's as he did so. He should have known that it was Merlin who had taken it. Nobody else would be quite that dumb.

And Morris wouldn't even have to waste the extra effort on thinking of something to get back at Merlin with. He was sure that the prince would come up with a suitable punishment all on his own.

"There is nothing wrong with it!" Merlin snapped, reaching up a hand to touch his shoulder where Morris had rammed into him. "It's exactly like it was when I found it."

Merlin watched annoyed as Moros carefully started running his fingers over the armor piece by piece. He was picking them up one by one, doing an extensive checking over each piece. If Merlin had gotten even the slightest and smallest of scratches on it, Morris would be able to find it from how hard he was inspecting it.

"As you found it?" Arthur asked, forcing Merlin to turn back to him. "What I would like to know was why you 'stole' it in the first place?" He demanded, positive that there would be some stupidly ridiculous answer as to why Merlin had felt the need to steal his armor.

"I needed it!" Merlin said defensively, while also managing to sound petulant at the same time.

Arthur could already feel the headache coming along, and he reached up to squeeze the bridge of his nose. "Okay, I'll bite. Please explain to me what was so important that you felt the need to steal my armor." Because that's exactly what it was. Arthur refused to entertain the idea that Merlin had 'borrowed' it as he said.

Merlin's face scrunched up at Arthur's patronizing tone, and he looked away scowling, "Nah. I don't think I want to right now." Like he was going to admit that he'd only stolen it for the sheer purpose of practicing this stupid custom that Camelot had.

"Y-you don't want to?" Arthur spluttered. The prince wasn't sure if he wanted to scream or just get his armor on and yell at Merlin later on when he had more time.

Merlin looked back at Arthur, giving a little half shrug, as if he couldn't care less. "Yeah, I don't think you need to know." The dark haired boy could literally see that Arthur looked as if a vein in his temple was about to pop.

"Merlin!" Arthur snarled, stepping up so that he was looming over him. "You tell me what you were doing airy my armor right now!" And then the prince went stiff as a thought accrued to him. Was this Merlin's way of getting back at him, of spiting him?

Did Merlin somehow know about his deal with Gaius? Did he somehow find out that Arthur had agreed to give him 'the talk' and in return, Gaius would tell his father that Merlin wasn't a virgin. But how would he had found out? Arthur had thought he'd been so careful, he had made sure that not a soul had seen him heading into Gaius' the hour before.

Had he missed something?

"Maybe if you had bothered to tell me yourself, you would know exactly what I was doing with it!" Merlin shot back easily. Because of course Arthur knew the customs of his own people. He shouldn't had neglected mentioning to Merlin what was expected of him. And since Merlin had to find out from George, he had absolutely no problem with making Arthur squirm some.

"Tell you what!" Arthur exclaimed. His dread was growing, almost positive that the reason Merlin had taken it was because he knew what Arthur had done. But so help him, if this brat had somehow damaged his armor while he was off galavanting with it...

"Use that brain of yours," Merlin said, almost ridiculously calm in comparison to Arthur. "I'm sure even your pea sized brain can figure it out." Okay, maybe this wouldn't be the best time to give Arthur a favor, especially since Merlin had a habit of making him mad. But he also couldn't help himself. It was as fun as Arthur was annoying.

"My..." Arthur cut himself off, sure that he was going to combust any minute. But he didn't, because he forced himself to take in a large breath and get himself together before he really did combust.

He was Prince Arthur Pendragon, he was the next king of Camelot, he wouldn't be seen arguing with his consort. Nobody would have any respect for him if they thought he would lose a battle of wits with somebody born a peasant.

Arthur had to literally force his voice to go lower so there was less chance of them being overheard among his fellow competitors. "I need you to tell me what you thought you were doing with my armor? Or should I just have the guards come and collect you so you can spent the afternoon in the dungeons?" He said the last bit as an afterthought, as if he thought it'll scare Merlin.

But Merlin just snorted at his threat and Arthur's eyes sharpened at the sound.

"Why not?" The dark haired boy said with a cheeky grin, enjoying himself more than he thought he would. "It might be fun going down there, I haven't seen that part of the castle yet. You already sent me to the stocks, and we all know how much fun going there is." He said with a dry, sarcastic wit.

Merlin might not get to see his first tournament, and he might not even be able to see what everybody had been telling him was true. If Arthur actually was one of the best swordsmen in the land, or if it was all made up propaganda because the king wanted his son to be more impressive than he was.

But he would get to replay Arthur's face over and over again, while he sat away in the dungeons. It would almost be worth it. But then again, Merlin really did want to see his first tournament. And he had to admit, he did want to see how good Arthur actually was in a real fight and not just training.

Arthur though, his eyebrows creased together. "What are you talking about you didn't see them? Haven't I sent you down there before?" He asked, not at all ashamed to admit it. It wasn't his fault that he hadn't known Merlin was his husband at the time. But yes, he could vaguely remember having Merlin sent there that first day they'd met. When he'd been trying to punish Merlin for thinking he could walk away from his prince, and then trying to hit him.

"...No." Merlin said, shaking his head as if to emphasize that. "It definitely wasn't me." Maybe he shouldn't had mentioned the part where he never actually went to the dungeons. The only reason he hadn't gone to the dungeons was because Leon had stepped in and escorted him to his room instead. Would Leon get in trouble with Arthur if the prince knew he had helped Merlin?

Arthur scowled at his bratty consort. Even though Merlin had said he had a pea brain, Arthur was pretty sharp, if he said so himself. There was no doubt in his mind that Merlin was lying, he looked like he'd be an awful liar anyway. Arthur just knew that Merlin would never be able to get away with lying to him.

"No, it was definitely-" Arthur started in a firm tone.

Merlin interrupted him, his words coming out almost faster than Arthur could keep up. "Do you send so many people to the dungeons that you can't keep them straight?"

Arthur was so deeply involved in his argument with Merlin, that he hadn't noticed the time passing. He hadn't realized that he shouldn't be wasting his time with his bratty consort, not when he still needed to get his armor on.

Arthur was completely prepared to tell Merlin something particularly scathing. Even opened his mouth and everything to do it.

So he was completely cut off guard when someone that wasn't his brat interrupted him. "Sire?" The voice called out to him, close to. Far to close for comfort actually.

"What?!" Arthur snarled. It was the same tone he'd used when Merlin had first arrived. But somewhere along the way, his tone had softened up considerably during their argument. Only now, it had returned full force, and it was almost harsh enough to freeze hell itself.

Morris froze under Arthur's penetrating glare, before he swallow hard. "Yo-your armor." He said, gesturing his hand to the table where he'd set the pieces up the correct way as he did his inspection. "It's fine. There's nothing wrong with it."

And Morris had made sure to be intensive in his check on it. He had done everything he could to see what damage Merlin had inflicted upon it. But as much as he hated to admit it, the armor was in perfect condition. It looked exactly the same as when Arthur had taken it off just that morning.

"Ha!" Merlin gleamed with pride, turning to Arthur. "I told you I didn't do anyt-" and then he froze. The blonde did so as well as he realized the same thing that Merlin had.

Somehow, during their argument, the two had moved closer towards each other without either of them realizing it. So when Merlin had turned back to Arthur, ready to gloat over having returned the armor in its rightful state, he'd nearly ran straight into him. Their faces were surprisingly close and they could stare straight into the other's blue eyes. Their chests were probably just a hairbreadth away from touching. Both of them had a look of stunned surprise on their faces.

Merlin felt as if his throat was abnormally dry, and he stuck his tongue out to lick at his lips. Arthur was just so close, he hadn't been this close to Merlin since their wedding.

And at that thought, Merlin dropped his gaze from Arthur's eyes and down to his slightly parted lips. His eyes went as wide as dinner plates as he shot them back up to Arthur's, feeling his cheeks start to flush as his breath caught.

What would Arthur do if Merlin leaned over and kissed him? He felt his heart speed up at the merest thought of actually doing it. Of just taking charge and leaning over to kiss his stupid prat of a husband. He could do it, he should do it. Arthur probably wouldn't push him away...right?

But if Arthur was just going to give him the same lackluster kiss that he'd given Merlin at their wedding, maybe Merlin should just show the stubborn prince what a real kiss was supposed to be like. And okay, maybe Merlin had never had a real kiss himself, but still...he found himself wanting to...with Arthur.

Even if Merlin didn't know how to give a real kiss. He didn't know how to go about getting one, or once he was supposed to do once they were actually kissing, but he did want to try. He wanted to experience his first kiss, and really take his time exploring and learning how to do it. He wanted to see what all of the actual hype was about.

Even if Arthur had been such a jerk to him since he got here, he still found the urge undeniable, he just wanted to just lean over and kiss him. And who knows, maybe it would kiss the jackass right out of him.

Surely a kiss would show his intentions better than any favor would.

On the other hand, Arthur was having very different thoughts. His throat was just as dry as Merlin's was, and his eyes widened when he saw Merlin lick his lips. When Merlin had been flushing a cherry red, Arthur had actually gone a shade paler. His heart stuttered in a panic, seeing the way Merlin's eyes darted down to his lips before shooting back up.

Was Merlin...did Merlin want to...Arthur's stomach was churning uncomfortably, unable to finish the thought. It was probably a good thing that he hadn't ate much at his uncomfortable breakfast with his father that morning.

But even with his stomach churning, Arthur found himself unable to move, his eyes locking with Merlin's own. It was like he was frozen to the ground, as if somebody had taped his feet down to this one spot. As if he was rooted there and it would take one hell of something to move him.

His saving grace, ironically, came from Morris. "Sire, I do believe that it's time for you to prepare." The manservant said. He didn't seem to notice the odd connection happening between Merlin and Arthur. He was to busy glaring at Merlin behind Arthur's shoulder.

Because Arthur had never spoken so harshly to Morris before Merlin had arrived. It was all his fault, and Morris needed to remind Merlin exactly what his place around here was. That Merlin might be a consort, but Morris had gotten his roots wrapped around Arthur long before he'd arrived.

The only question was finding the time to do it. And he needed to perfect what he wanted to say, to put root into Merlin's mind that he shouldn't stay in Camelot. Morris was a planner, a long term planner, he liked to map out his every move before he went through with his plan. He'd been working as Arthur's manservant for years, and that was an attest to his patience. Why? Because he was more of a strategist than any noble would think a peasant could be.

Morris didn't want any surprises, and he doubted that someone as dumb as Merlin would be giving him any.

X

Morris voice was able to break Arthur out of the trance that he had fallen into. And he would never admit it, but he was actually quite thankful towards his manservant. The prince took a large step away from Merlin, sucking in a large breath of fresh air. If only to calm his stuttering heartbeat, and to take a minute to recuperate from what had just happened.

Merlin though, he watched Arthur after he'd stepped away. His heart that had been thudding painfully against his ribcage, dropped. He felt the acute disappointment in his bones, knowing that he'd missed his chance.

Merlin refused to admit that he was pouting, but that's exactly what it was. It was as if Arthur had stolen his first kiss all over again, or at least the opportunity for him to have a real one. But maybe it was for the best, did he really want to kiss Arthur Bloody Pendragon, really?

"Let's get this started. We barely have a half hour's time." Arthur said gruffly, turning back to Morris. He put his back to Merlin, just so he wouldn't have to look for him. He struggled with pushing what had happened to the back of his mind.

"Of course, sire." Morris said demurely, shooting an almost 'haha' look in Merlin's direction. Because Arthur had come to him and left Merlin behind. Because Arthur actually needed Morris, he would always need Morris more than he would Merlin.

Not that either boy noticed the way he'd looked at Merlin.

Arthur was staring straight ahead and had put on his 'princely face', the kind he had to use when foreign dignitaries visited the kingdom. Merlin was crossing his arms over his chest, glaring daggers at the prince's broad shoulders.

Morris started reaching for the armor, but had barely picked up the first piece when he was interrupted.

George, standing off to the side as a proper manservant should when he wasn't needed, cleared his throat. "Sire," he called, looking at Arthur, but he had ended up grabbing the attention of all three boy's. Nobody had even realized that he was there, and George was pleased by that. A proper manservant should always be seen and never heard. He should be useful, but never get in the way of his master.

Maybe Morris should go back through basic servant training. The head steward was always looking for a reason to put the servants back through training. After all, how good a servant was reflected on him who had trained them.

"Yes, what is it?" Arthur demanded, although there was no actual heat in his words. He just wanted something new to focus on, something that wasn't the brat standing right behind him.

George cleared his throat and straightened up his almost straight posture. "I do believe, that as our custom dictates, it's only proper for Sir Merlin to help you with your armor, Prince Arthur."

Everybody else stiffened, going tense as their eyes bugged out. All of them had different reasons for doing so.

X

Arthur felt his jaw drop just a touch, his face looking nothing less than pure horror at what George was saying. He knew all about Camelot's customs and traditions by heart. They had practically been drilled into him in his early childhood. As his father had put it when he'd been young enough to still whine about it, a good king must put his people's needs before his own. And that was why Arthur had been the first among his age group to learn everything that Camelot had been built upon. Even the old traditions that were so archaic that most people hadn't even heard of them nowadays.

While Merlin was his consort, he was still a peasant. It had completely slipped Arthur's mind that with their marriage, Merlin would be doing all of the things that his consort was supposed to do. Like this particular tradition that his kingdom followed.

And not to mention, Arthur had heard that it was a very intimate experience between married partners. Arthur had heard stories about how his own parents had partaken in it. How before every tourney or battle, his mother would take great care in making sure that his father was well protected.

With a manservant doing it, it was just a job, something to do and to move on from. But with a spouse, it was a different story entirely. Merlin would have to get up close and personal, he'd have to be touching him and constantly checking parts he'd already done to make sure that it was holding up alright.

Arthur, in his entire life, had only had a manservant do it for him. But now, he'd have to put his trust in Merlin. He'd have to trust that his armor wouldn't just fall off mid-battle.

So just like his parents before him, Arthur would have to stand here and allow Merlin to put his armor on. Did Merlin even know how to put armor on? He probably didn't, when would a peasant ever have the opportunity to learn?

But Merlin was his consort, which meant that he was expected to do all of the things that a consort did.

Oh god, his armor really was going to fall to pieces around him in mid-fight, wasn't it?

Why was this happening to him? What had he done to deserve this?

And the way that Merlin had been looking at it...had he really wanted to kiss him? Arthur knew that he was a very attractive man, what if Merlin couldn't control himself? What if he tried to kiss him when Arthur was vulnerable, and trying to get dressed?

But his father would never let it go if he heard that Arthur had said no to this. It'd be like Arthur was snubbing his own traditions, as if he was sticking his nose in the air and saying that he was to good to do it. His father was going to have him locked in his room for a month if he caught wind of this embarrassment.

X

Merlin hung his head, wishing that he could smash some sense into George. Did the manservant really just have to announce it like he had? So what if Merlin had almost forgotten, with everything that had been going on between him and Arthur.

Merlin definitely would have remembered before Morris had started dressing the prince. After all, he had not taken the armor for nothing. He didn't get it all the way to Gwen's house, painstakingly learn how to put it on a prat, and then bring it all the way back here for nothing. And he'd made it on time, no less, which was a miracle in itself for him.

After everything he went through for this stupid custom, Merlin was definitely not going to let it go. Whether Arthur liked it or not.

X

Morris felt a flash of anger going through him. How? How had Merlin only been here for just over a week, and he was already ruining everything! He'd married the prince, gaining a connection to the crown without even trying. That crown was supposed to be waiting for Morris! It was supposed to be waiting until he gained the prince's utter devotion.

But Merlin, he'd also taken a place, albeit he wasn't good at it, in Arthur's bed. That was where Morris was suppose to lay, surrounded by silken sheets! And now, he was taking this from him? Merlin was trying to take over what had been his duty for these last three years.

The only good thing that had happened since Merlin had arrived, was watching him get beaten by Arthur during that training session.

Why did Merlin have to ruin everything? Did he do this on purpose? As a way of getting back at Morris for their less than stellar encounters.

If Merlin thought he was going to get anyway with any of this, he had another thing coming.

Morris narrowed his eyes onto the other boy, something dark shimmering beneath the brown of his eyes. Just you wait, Merlin, the manservant thought.

It may take a while, but Morris knew all about patience. He knew all about time, and that was all it took for somebody to let their guard down. When Merlin let his guard down, and was having a moment of weakness, Morris would be there to exploit it. All he had to do was wait, and watch for when Merlin was at his lowest point.

Morris would watch gleefully as Merlin left the kingdom, never to return. And nobody would be the wiser that Morris had been the one that had gotten Merlin to leave, for good.

It would happen, Morris knew it in his blood that it would, and he'd be there when it did.

Morris was going to make sure that by the time he was through, Merlin was going to wish that he'd never even heard of Camelot.

X

"We all know about the customs and traditions that Camelot upholds." George was saying again, unaware of the problems that he was causing for the other three. "It's only right that we follow along with what our ancestors created when they first came to this land."

"But it's my job to do it." Morris said, his eyes flashing briefly before it faded into a more neutral look. If only to hide the shimmering rage growing beneath his skin. "I am his manservant, after all." As if they all needed the reminder of what his occupation was.

"And he's Arthur's husband." George said, speaking in a calm and even tone. It was such a contrast when compared to Morris' harsh tone, that it was noticed by everybody. "Sir Merlin has every right to take over."

Morris had to put a lid on his rage before he went off the deep end. "I believe," he said, every word he spoke more forceful than the last, and it was obvious that he was doing everything he could not to shout. "That I'm the better man for the job. I have been doing it for years and have never had a complaint before."

Arthur and Merlin watched, their heads going back and forth between their two manservants, who had seemed to forgotten that they were there.

"Whether you've been doing it for years or not is hardly relevant." George said patiently. "I do hope you realize that Sir Merlin is the prince's consort. And dressing him in his armor is something usually done by the spouse of a knight. I fail to understand why you are still doing it after our prince has married." George lifted a calming eyebrow at Morris. "I'm sure Sir Merlin is more than adequate and can learn quite quickly, if that is your concern."

Morris clenched his jaw so hard he thought his teeth were going to crack. "'Sir Merlin,'" he practically had to bite out the proper title. "Can practice his putting on armor skills when there is not an important tournament, and Prince Arthur's reputation is at stake."

Merlin didn't look away from the two squabbling menservants as he learned to the side. His arm was pressing right up against Arthur's own, and the prince went stiff when he realized Merlin was leaning against him.

Arthur wanted to jump away so bad. He just wanted to shove Merlin away and scold him harshly for touching him. For thinking that he could take liberties and touch Arthur as he liked. But he didn't, if only because he knew that his father had his spies everywhere. And they would surely let their king know if they thought Arthur wasn't acting in a princely manner among the many nobles.

And it was almost a good thing he didn't shove Merlin when he wanted to. Because almost immediately, his annoying consort was talking to him, in a whisper as if he was trying to keep their conversation private.

"Are they really arguing over whether or not I get to dress you?" The dark haired boy asked, speaking out the corner of his mouth.

Arthur swallowed hard, trying to ignore the warmth press up against his side. Because Merlin was just so close to him, annoyingly persistently close. Bringing his attention to the manservants that were still going at it, Arthur answered Merlin with a, "I-I do believe that they are."

And finally, Merlin straightened back up so that he was no longer pressed so tightly and snug against Arthur's side. And Arthur let out the breath of relief that he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

"You think they'll notice if we just get started without them?" Merlin asked curiously, not looking at Arthur but only because his attention was still taken over by the menservants.

Arthur though, his head completely whipped around at that. And he was looking at Merlin with eyes wide with horror. "You are not getting me prepared!" He exclaimed, his mind going completely blank except for that. As if he'd completely forgotten that he didn't have a choice in the matter, just like he hadn't had a choice when he had to marry Merlin in the first place.

That finally got Merlin's attention, and his head spun around to give Arthur a look that almost resembled disapproving. "What do you mean I'm not?" He demanded, bringing his hands up to his hips as he turned to face Arthur fully.

Arthur rolled his eyes because great, he had two manservants still arguing and now he had an upset consort. How had his life turned so utterly fucked up? Was it Merlin? Was it just his mere presence? It had to be, and him just being here was upsetting everything else. Morris had never had such a loose tongue before Merlin arrived, or he would have gotten rid of him ages ago. And Arthur had barely been aware that George had existed but either way, a manservant would have never spoken so freely in front of him.

And now his consort...he didn't even know where to begin.

"What I mean," Arthur drawled out, looking down his nose at the other boy. "Is that Morris is more than adequate to get the job done."

"But he's not your consort!" Merlin exclaimed, already more frustrated than he should be with the short amount of time they'd been standing there. "And that's what this whole custom is about, right? The consort of a knight is supposed to help with your armor." He stopped to give Arthur an almost teasing eyebrow. "Unless this is just your way of telling me you're not a real knight and have just been playing dress up."

Arthur's jaw dropped a little at Merlin's audacity. "D-dress up?" He spluttered, his disbelief growing as he took in what Merlin had said. "Of course I'm a real knight!" He exclaimed.

But Merlin just grinned cheekily, as if he was enjoying Arthur's growing upset. "I don't know." The dark haired boy said slyly. "I mean, it would make so much sense. All of these big strong knights ready to go out there and fight. And then there's-" Merlin dropped to let his eyes drag over Arthur's chainmilled covered body, his grin widening as he had to drag his eyes away from the blonde's biceps. "-you." He finished, sounding more decidedly unimpressed than he actually was.

Arthur looked at Merlin with nothing but pure disbelief on his face, almost unable to believe that his consort had actually just said what he thought he said.

It took far much longer than he wanted to, to get his voice working again. "You think I'm-" the prince brought a hand to his chest as if to emphasize himself. "Not as strong as those other knights?" Arthur demanded.

Merlin gave a little half shrug, his teasing little smile growing cheekier, "Well," he said slowly, giving Arthur another slow once over. The prince stiffened under his consort's scrutiny, feeling more self conscious than he wanted to admit. He even found himself straightening up, pushing his chest out to look wider than it was. "I have definitely seen thicker knights." Merlin rose his eyes to meet with Arthur's. "So you better have some pretty damn good skills if you want to impress me in the first rounds."

"I-impress you!" Arthur spluttered, bringing a hand up to rest on the top of his head, looking absolutely baffled. "Who said anything about wanting to impress you?!"

Merlin shrugged, not looking the least bit hurt that Arthur didn't want him impressed. The consort's grin actually grew wider, looking far to amused at Arthur's expanse.

"Well," Merlin said cheekily. "If you're not planning on impressing me any, maybe I should go cheer for one of those other knights." The dark haired boy gave an obvious look about them, clearly checking out the other competitors standing at their own tables all around them in the crowd. "I bet I can find one much thicker than you." Merlin finally turned back to Arthur, his eyes twinkling.

Arthur had gone stiff when he saw his mouthy consort checking out his competition. His fists curled involuntarily at his sides and he felt a spike of irritation go through him. The blonde could literally hear his heart pounding in his ears. Clenching his jaw, Arthur said in a far harsher tone, "You will not." He spoke it in a commanding tone, practically daring Merlin to argue with him on this.

He'd be damned if he saw Merlin in the crowd, cheering for his competitors.

But of course, Merlin didn't seem to be aware of the growing danger he was in with Arthur's ire. Or maybe he just didn't care, Arthur didn't know anymore.

Instead of buckling to Arthur's demanding tone, Merlin said instead, "Oh yeah?" And he was moving back and forth from the toes of his boots to his heel. "Whose gonna stop me?" He raised an almost mocking eyebrow at Arthur. "You?"

Arthur stepped forward so that the toe of his boots was just a hairbreadth from touching Merlin's own. It forced the dark haired boy to stop moving back and forth. Arthur looked over Merlin, trying to act in an almost threatening manner. Merlin just watched him with a curious expression.

The blonde prince would have never gotten closer to the slimmer boy in any other circumstances. Especially not in this crowd of people, where anybody could see Camelot's heir getting up close and personal with another boy, even if said boy was his husband. But it didn't matter, because everybody was so consumed with their final preparations before the first round, that Arthur and Merlin were just two boys in a crowd of dozens.

Arthur leaned his head in, getting even closer to Merlin's face. And whispering for just the two of them to hear, the prince said, "You bet your arse I'll stop you."

Merlin felt the flush burning across his cheeks as his breath caught. He was pretty sure that was the first time he heard Arthur actually curse. It caused a strange shiver to shoot down his spine.

Merlin swallowed hard, feeling just how dry his throat was. He had to lick his lips just so he could talk without his voice cracking. "I-I'd like to see you try."

There was some kind of strange energy that only the two of them could feel. Some strange kind of tension that sucked both of them in.

"-And it will be a good idea for people to see Sir Merlin following our traditions. For them to see him integrating into Camelot, with him being a foreigner and all."

Merlin's head snapped around, already saying something before he'd finished thinking it. "I wouldn't really call myself a foreigner. I live barely a day outside of Camelot's borders." And were Morris and George seriously still having this argument?

At his words though, Arthur practically threw himself backwards as to escape his close proximity to Merlin. Air, he just needed a fresh bit of air to clear his head.

"You are a foreigner." Morris said harshly. "You have absolutely no idea what the rich traditions and customs our kingdom has. It'll be a mockery for you to attempt it."

'Barely a day outside of Camelot's boarders' rung through Arthur's mind. Had Merlin really live that close all this time? It was just now occurring to Arthur that in all of this time, he didn't actually know where Merlin had grown up. He knew it was in Cenred's kingdom of course, but that close?...It was actually almost to close for comfort.

"A mockery?" Merlin asked, and he cast Arthur a look of confusion. But the prince was no help, staring off into space as he was. So rolling his eyes, Merlin turned back to Morris. "I'm his fucking consort, how is me following his traditions a mockery?"

Morris gave an almost mocking shiver of disdain. "Must you really use such foul language? I know you must be used to it, but a consort really should know better."

Merlin felt his lips thinning, his disdain for Morris growing by the minute. There was nothing wrong with his language! He'd been using the same language all his life. What the fuck was Morris talking about...a consort should know better? How was Merlin supposed to know anything? It wasn't like he was expecting to grow up and become a fucking consort to the fucking Prince of fucking Camelot...maybe Morris did have a fucking point.

But like hell was he going to admit it. So with an indignant anger, Merlin opened his mouth, "There's nothing wrong with my lang-"

"We don't have time for this." Arthur said, his voice soft, but sudden enough that it cut through the argument with ease.

Merlin's head whipped around to look at Arthur, but the prince was avoiding his eye.

Arthur felt numb, but he knew that this was just one more thing on the list of things that he had no choice but to do since Merlin had entered his life.

"I have a tournament to win, so let's just go ahead and get this over with." Arthur said, careful to avoid anybody's eye as he took a step to his table.

Merlin smirked, taking a step after him to meet at the table. "Cocky you're gonna win, are you?" He reached out to grab at one of the pieces on the table, the voided, he had to remind himself of the name. "Do you think winning's gonna impress me?"

But Arthur wasn't in the mood for Merlin's teasing's right now. His mind was already a million miles away, and just wanting to get this over with so he could go back to pretending he was still on top of the world. So he could go out there and win this tournament for the third year in a row, and act as if Merlin wasn't in the crowd watching him.

Merlin held out his hand, "Now, give me your arm. We wouldn't want it to go unprotected, would we?" The dark haired boy asked dryly, but the mocking tilt of his lips softened his words.

Arthur finally looked back at Merlin, but only so he could see that the boy was holding his arm guard in hand. The prince had just started lifting his arm as he would if it was Morris doing it, when they were interrupted.

"Wait, wait, wait!" Morris said quickly, practically pushing between the two of them. Both boy's took a step back, sharing a look of equal confusion at the flustered manservant.

"Morris, what is the meaning of this?" Arthur asked harshly, narrowing his eyes down at his unruly manservant.

X

Maybe Arthur should have something done with Morris. Have him sent back to the servants training or something, as he'd been growing more unchecked in the days past. Like talking freely, or taking more liberties than he used to, things that he hadn't done before Merlin had arrived.

He would have gotten rid of him a long time ago if this was how unprofessionally he acted at the beginning. But really, would it be right to punish Morris for something that was clearly Merlin's fault.

His consort's mere presence just seemed to be bringing out the worse in people.

X

Morris cleared his throat, feeling Arthur's scrutiny on him. This was not the kind of impression he wanted to leave on his prince. He pulled himself together, straightening up in a more dignified manner that almost resembled George's.

"Sire," Morris said, trying to put concern into his voice. "I think it's wonderful that Sir Merlin is following our traditions and customs, that he is accumulating so well to his new home." The words sounded sour on his tongue, but his face gave absolutely nothing away.

"You do?" Merlin asked, raising an eyebrow at him with a dubious look. He wasn't buying this for a second. Morris hadn't given him one thing in all their previous conversation's, that would indicate that he gave a damn that Merlin was 'accumulating ' so well.'

"Well of course I do." Morris said, looking at Merlin with wide watery brown eyes. As if he couldn't believe that Merlin doubted that he cared.

Merlin didn't believe it for a second.

"I was just thinking," Morris said, turning back to Arthur. "That Merlin might be more comfortable doing a custom back from his own home to commemorate your first event together since the wedding." Morris turned back to Merlin. "So tell me, Sir Merlin, what do they do during these events in Cenred's kingdom?"

Merlin felt himself bristle up, feeling as if Morris was trying to start something without actually starting something. The manservant knew full well that Merlin was a peasant, when would he have had the opportunity to know how the noble's back home did?

But jokes on Morris, because Merlin wasn't ashamed to admit just how clueless he was about his own kingdom. So looking at Morris in mild annoyance, he said, "I don't exactly run in the same circles as the royal family."

He didn't even know what his king looked like. They were so far out of the way, and so remote, that nobody back home would have recognized their king on sight. Not unless he was being escorted by dozens of armored guards but really, that could be almost any noble in these times that they were living in.

"Oh?" Morris asked, looking almost condescending. "So your unaware of what King Cenred does to prepare before a tournament? I don't believe that kingdom has the same traditions that Camelot does. Do you know if he would have a consort prepare him if he had one?"

Merlin scowled, feeling as if he was being interrogated. "Well, since the king hasn't married, I don't believe it really matters if his own consort would prepare him."

"A consort wouldn't prepare Cenred." Arthur suddenly said, interrupting them as he rattled off his next bit as if he knew it better than he knew the back of his hand. "In that kingdom, a consort wouldn't be trusted enough to handle such a matter."

In Cenred's kingdom, a consort wasn't treated nearly as good as Camelot treated their own. A consort was practically locked away in their glided cage, treated almost as a geisha for their husband's pleasure. They would be covered in silks and pearls and furs, more than any other in the kingdom. But they were essentially a prisoner, unable to do anything without their husband's express consent and permission.

It was not the best place to find a happy and functional consort.

"So, he'd have a manservant do it?" Morris asked, shooting an almost superior look at Merlin, as if he'd won something by this. "Well," he made his voice sound almost sad in his next words. "If we're going to follow along with Merlin's, forgive me, 'Sir Merlin's'" he said the title in a mocking undertone that almost went unnoticed by everyone but Merlin "Customs. Then I should be the one to do it." And then he held out his hand, as if expecting Merlin to just hand over the arm guard.

Merlin tightened his fingers around it, almost as if he thought Morris was going to try and take it from him. And he felt ridiculous as he realized he was really about to get into an actual fight with Morris over who was going to dress Arthur. But at the same time, he hadn't gone through all of this, learning how to put stupid armor on, just for Morris to do it instead.

"It might be the custom's of my kingdom," Merlin said firmly, even if he'd been unaware of it himself. "But I've never been one to just follow along with tradition."

After all, look at everything he did already that defied 'tradition'. He was a peasant who now lived among royalty. He was a sorcerer who lived unnoticed among the common people. He was a consort that had no idea what he was supposed to do.

Except he did know one thing he was going to do. And that was getting Arthur into his damn armor, rather Morris liked it or not.

Morris didn't seem very pleased by his response. "Well in Camelot, we thrive on our very rich and proud traditions." And he looked quite pompous about it as well, as if he had a direct hand in personally creating this traditions.

Thinking over Morris' words, Merlin starting to smirk. "Well as its Camelot's tradition for the consort to do it, I do believe it'll be better if I just go ahead and do it."

Morris' eyes glittered almost dangerously, "How are you going to follow Camelot's traditions? If you don't even know your own." And he was all to gleeful about pointing out Merlin's lack in knowledge.

"I do know my own." Merlin said defensively, jutting his thumb over his shoulder to where Arthur was. "Arthur just said that King Cenred wouldn't have his consort do it."

"Which is exactly why I should do it." Morris said. "It's a manservant's sacred duty to prepare his master. It's unnecessary for a consort to get their hands dirty, as your own customs dictate."

"Well I guess it's a good thing I'm not in that kingdom anymore." Merlin shot back. "I'm a resident of Camelot now, I should do what the people here do. Unless I missed something when I said 'I do'." And he held up his hand as if it emphasize his point, bringing attention to the ring on his finger.

Morris glowered at the ring, wanting nothing more than to snatch it off Merlin's finger. That was his ring! It should be his ring! It was just yet another thing that he felt Merlin had stolen from him, something that should rightfully be his.

"Well what I think-" Morris started, almost prepared to let loose exactly what he thought of Merlin. And rather Arthur liked his consort or not was irrelevant, he would have been fired on the spot for talking to a member of the family in such a way.

It was almost surprising that he hadn't been already.

"-Is irrelevant." Arthur interrupted, unknowingly saving Morris a lot of grief when he'd realized what he'd done.

Morris' head whipped around to look at Arthur, "But sire-" he started to protest, but his words died in his throat as he took in the scene in front of him. Arthur had just stepped up to stand just behind Merlin, their shoulders almost brushing. And for a second, just a second, Morris could have sworn that the two boy's appeared as a united front. Against him.

"No." Arthur said, stopping Morris from saying anything else. "I will not hear another word on the matter. In case anybody's forgotten, the tournament is to start any minute and I'm the only one not yet prepared. Merlin will do my armor, and that's all there is to it."

Morris' mouth snapped shut without another word, watching as the prince turned away and held out his arm to Merlin. So that his consort could snap the arm guard around his wrist.

X

Morris had no choice but to stand beside the table and watch Merlin fumbling his way through getting the arm guard on. The manservant barely glanced up as George joined him, watching with an almost serene smile. He held his pitcher of juice with one hand, prepared to jump in at a moment's notice if his master needed him.

"What's with the juice?" Morris asked snidely, wrinkling his nose at the other manservant. This had all started because George had opened his big mouth. If he'd only kept it shut, it would be Morris who would be getting close to Arthur, Morris who would be building another bond between him and the prince.

George looked down at the pitcher in his hand, and then at Morris, his serene smile growing. "My master requested it. I thought I should carry a pitcher around so he need no longer has to wait for me to retrieve it. He seems to get thirsty a lot, it's the only thing he's asked me to do."

Morris snorted and turned away in disgust, thinking that being a consort was so wasted on Merlin. The man had a literal servant to wait on him hand and foot. And what had he done with it? He'd had the manservant get him juice.

"Morris," George said. "I do believe that it's time that you and I had a talk."

Morris' head whipped back around to glare at the other manservant. "A talk?" He demanded, not wanting to do anything less than he wanted to talk to George. "About what?"

"About your treatment of my master." George said calmly. "And the hostility that you seen to have against him."

Morris scoffed, "What treatment? I haven't done anything to him." Not yet, but he did have plans and ideas that he'd be more than happy to ho through with, if Merlin refused to listen to his kind advice and leave while he still had the chance to.

"You are constantly disrespecting him." George said. "The master who trained us how to be servants, would have you bite your tongue if he heard how you spoke to Master Merlin."

Morris winced, knowing that was very much true. The head trainer was definitely more exotic with his methods on correcting a servant trainee. There were a reason that the servants in Camelot were so good at what they did, it was because they'd been trained by the best.

"Well, you can't tell me that you're happy about this." Morris said firmly, looking away to glower at his prince and the consort. "How can you just stand there and say nothing when our prince is subjected to such a common man? Anybody would have made a better consort."

Like him, Morris thought. He'd spent so much time listening in on the nobles during their meetings as he'd tended to Arthur's water glass. He might not have the fancy education, or the bloodline, that all of these nobles had. But he was a good deal better prepared than 'Merlin' would ever be.

"Actually, I do believe that Sir Merlin is handling things quite well." George said. "He is still becoming accustomed to his new life, but he seems eager to learn our ways and what he can do to become a good consort. And besides," he gave Morris a disapproving look over the bridge of his nose. "It is not up to us to get involved in the affairs of the court. We are nothing but simple manservants."

Speak for yourself, Morris thought. It would be a cold day in hell before Morris said that he wasn't meant for greater things in life than what he'd been given.

George turned back to Arthur and Merlin, even as he kept talking to Morris. "You really must do better. The prince would probably have no choice but to replace you if you get to out of hand. And I know you've been diligently working for him for several years. It would be such a shame for all of those years of service to go to waste."

Morris didn't say another word to George. Although he did have an epiphany at what the other manservant had to say. 'He had to do better'. That was right, he did have to do better. He could not allow his tongue to get away from him anymore. He could not start arguments with the consort in front of his prince. He could not allow his disdain for Merlin to show because yes, Merlin was now his superior. Peasant or not, Merlin had done what Morris had failed to do, and he'd married up in this world.

Now a consort, Merlin was almost as important as the prince himself, despite his heritage and rather or not the people treated him as well.

He had to do better, and keep things under wraps or behind the scenes. It wouldn't do to have Merlin leave, only for Morris to be accused of having something to do with it later.

Morris let a surprisingly cold smile spread across his face for the briefest of seconds. And then his face shifted neutral, as a proper manservant should look, and it looked so natural that it was unreal.

George was right after all. Morris would have to do better.

X

"You are aware that the tournament starts any minute?" Arthur grumbled, looking more and more annoyed the longer it took Merlin. He was really regretting that he hadn't just sent Merlin on his way and had Morris do it as he usually would.

"I am aware of that, yes. Thanks for reminding me." Merlin said, not looking at Arthur. He was twisting the prince's arm this way and that way, trying to figure out how to snap it on. It hadn't been nearly this hard when it had been Gwen showing him. But now that he was doing it himself, he found it an entirely different story.

Merlin thought he was making pretty good time as he was working on the second arm guard. He'd already finished the first one, but it had taken him twice as long to get it.

The longer it was taking for him to get the second one latched, the more flustered he was getting. Merlin shot an almost nervous look up at Arthur before quickly looking back down at what he was doing. His fingers were fumbling around the latch, trying to get it to lock into place.

After Merlin had looked at him with that nervous little grin playing on his lips, clearly trying to act as if he knew what he was doing and obviously failing, Arthur averted his eyes to straight ahead. Just so he wouldn't have to look at Merlin anymore, even though it was impossible to ignore the way Merlin was squeezing at his lower arm. The boy was moving it in every direction, taking absolutely no care in Arthur's own comfort.

"You wouldn't be in a rush," Arthur said gruffly, keeping his eyes straight ahead. "If you hadn't wasted my time by arguing with my manservant."

"I wouldn't be wasting time if you kept your mouth shut and let me concentrate." Merlin pointed out dryly, the relief on his face clear to see when he finally got the arm guard to snap.

Arthur spluttered, wondering how it had gotten to this point, where Merlin felt as if he could talk so freely to the prince.

Merlin ignored him, turning away from him to grab the shoulder piece off of the table. The dark haired boy turned back to Arthur, taking care as to not drop the heavy piece of metal.

"Okay, now duck down some." Merlin commanded, already lifting up the smooth metal.

"I never had to duck down when Morris did this." Arthur huffed, even as he bent down so that Merlin could put the shoulder piece over his head. The prince grunted when the sharp metal banged painfully against the back of his head as Merlin let it drop onto his shoulders.

"Oh, I am so sorry. That was my mistake, entirely." Merlin said. But he had a very cheeky grin on his face that convinced Arthur that he'd done it on purpose.

"If you are just going to play around, then maybe I should just call Morris over here to finish the job." Arthur snapped, reaching up a hand to pat the back of his head where the metal had connected with his skull. It didn't actually hurt that much, he hadn't been hit nearly as hard as he could have been. But it definitely irritated him that Merlin had the gall to basically attack his princely husband.

Merlin didn't seem to think much of his threat though, not if his scoff was anything to go by. "Just admit it," the dark haired boy said dryly. "You wouldn't have nearly as much fun if Morris was doing this."

And then he was circling around Arthur before the prince could give him a sharp response in reply. And Arthur grunted in surprise when his consort boldly reached under his arm, pushing the prince's limb out of the way so that he could grab at the straps to adjust them.

"You didn't tell me to lift my arms!" Arthur barked, because Morris definitely would have murmured in his ear for him to do it when he needed to adjust something. The prince glowered at the emptying table in front of him as he felt his consort messing around with the strap, lifting his arm out of the way on his own to give the other boy more space to work.

Merlin didn't look up, his forehead nearly pressing to the back of Arthur's shoulder blade. His face was scrunching up together in concentration as he tried to fix this stupid buckle. Gwen had adjusted it to fit Merlin better when she'd been showing him how to work the straps. And now it was much to small for it to fit around Arthur's meaty shoulders properly.

"If you can't figure out that you need to lift your arms without me telling you," Merlin murmured, not looking up from where his fingers were fumbling with the buckle. "Then I truly fear if there's something wrong with your mental faculties."

"There is nothing wrong with my mental faculties!" Arthur exclaimed, trying to look over his shoulder to glare at Merlin. But all he could see was the unruly mop of darkness that Merlin called his hair.

"Keep telling yourself that," Merlin murmured, only half paying attention to Arthur as he finally felt the buckle start to give in. "And maybe everyone else will believe it as well, by the time you are ready to become king."

And before Arthur could respond, Merlin let out a sound of excitement as he finally got the buckle to move. The only problem with this was that Merlin had pulled the strap in the wrong direction.

"That's to tight!" Arthur yelped, feeling as if the blood was being cut off at his shoulder as the strap tightened to unbearable levels because of Merlin's eager pulling.

Merlin was quick to react, pulling the other strap in order to loosen it up. Arthur let out a sigh of relief, feeling his consort's clumsy fingers working under his arm, until the strap was right where it was supposed to be.

Arthur's sharp ears could barely detect it when he heard Merlin mumbling something behind him as he drew his fingers away from the strap and buckle.

"Was it really too tight? Or maybe it's just because you're too fat."

Arthur was pretty sure he wasn't actually suppose to hear that, but hear it he did. And he was not amused.

"What was that?!" Arthur exclaimed, loud and firm, verging on disbelief. Had Merlin really just called him fat? And as if to make sure he was still as fit as could be and hadn't gained an extra fifty pounds instantaneous, he looked down at his chainmilled covered stomach. But yes, he was still as flat and firm as he'd ever been.

Merlin's head popped over his shoulder, him chin hooking over Arthur's shoulder. The prince had to force himself not to flinch, startled by the innocent motion.

"Nothing, nothing. I said absolutely nothing." The dark haired boy said. But the way he was smiling, so innocent and teasing. Arthur knew without a doubt that he had just heard what he thought he heard.

Merlin drew back away, and Arthur caught one last glimpse of that cheeky smile before he disappeared back behind him. Arthur quickly looked ahead, training his eyes to face fully in front of him, and it left him staring at some monster of a man finishing up a few tables over. Just so he wouldn't have to acknowledge the strange way his heart had jolted at the sight of Merlin's wide grin.

Merlin stepped to his other side and Arthur felt it as he boldly reached under his other arm to root around for the straps. This time, the prince lifted his arm without complaint, just to show Merlin that there was nothing wrong with his mental faculties. But he also had a feeling that if he had turned around in that moment, he'd probably see Merlin smirking at him.

Merlin managed to get a hold of the straps and started messing around with them, trying to get them looser.

Arthur gave a low grunt, just a firm sound from the back of his throat. He rotated his shoulder into place, trying to get his shoulder piece into a more comfortable position. Which was strange, because his armor has been tailored for him. It even got redone every year so they could adjust for his growth, his height as he has grown over the last few years. Although, now that he was pretty much done growing at this point, the focus would be towards any extra muscle mass that he had gained from an extra year of fighting.

"Stop moving." Merlin said, his tone commanding as he let go of one of the straps. But only so he could put a firm hand on Arthur's shoulder, pushing it down so that it could be where it would be if Arthur was more relaxed.

But all that did was make Arthur tensed up more. Morris had never touched him so much when he was preparing his armor, so why did Merlin feel the need to?

"Don't proceed to tell me what to do." Arthur grunted, bowing his head a little and letting his bangs fall into his eyes.

"Well if you did what you were told, I wouldn't have to." Merlin said, once again having to push Arthur's shoulder so that it was in place for the straps to be set the right way.

Arthur grunted, doing everything he could as to not roll his shoulder again. But still, he couldn't help himself and up his shoulder went. The motion once again yanked the straps out of Merlin's hands.

"Arthur!" Merlin exclaimed, practically shouting in Arthur's ear. With the prince rolling his shoulder like that, it was constantly pulling on the straps, leaving Merlin unable to loosen them properly.

Arthur winced at the loud volume in his ear. "Don't yell at me, I'm still your prince!" Arthur exclaimed, reaching a hand up to rub at his ear with the palm of his hand, feeling as if his ear was ringing. He turned his head to glare at the other boy over his shoulder.

But the dark haired boy grabbed him by the back of his head and forcibly turned him back around. "Well, unless you want to go out there half dressed, then I suggest you keep still." The boy said sternly, almost making Arthur feel like some kind of fidgeting child. "If this is how you act when Morris gets you dressed, I'm surprised you ever go around with clothes on. I would have given up on you a long time ago."

"Just hurry up." Arthur said, sticking his nose in the air in an arrogant fashion. "I will not be late just because you don't know how to dress someone properly." Merlin almost would have laughed at the over exaggerated scene in front of him, if only Arthur wasn't right. They were on a time crunch right now, the announcer would be sure to tell them that it was time to proceed to the tournament grounds any minute now.

"Well you'll have to forgive me." Merlin said dryly. "I'm not used to dressing a grown man."

Arthur felt himself stiffen, his eyes narrowing down at the grass below him. The image formed in his head before he could stop it. Of Merlin, helping a faceless stranger get dressed, a rumbled up bed somewhere behind them. He better not be used to helping men dress.

But no, Arthur didn't have to worry about whatever Gaius had been saying. About Merlin seeking company elsewhere if Arthur didn't show him any affection.

Arthur didn't have to waste his time showing affection. Because Merlin was far to naive to know about the things men could do in the bedroom. Arthur didn't have to worry about finding his consort in another man's bed.

Giving the back of the blonde's head a suspicious look when he didn't say anything, and as if to make sure that he was really going to stay put, Merlin stuck his hands back under Arthur's arm. Maybe this time, he could finally get this stupid latch loosened.

But the problem was, Arthur really couldn't help himself. There was something off about his armor, something was different about it but he just couldn't put his finger on it.

"...Are these tighter than usual?" Arthur asked. He didn't know why they would be tighter, but that was the entire problem. It was why he couldn't stop fidgeting so much.

"...No!" Merlin exclaimed from behind him, his chin popping over Arthur's shoulder again. "They're always like that." And then Merlin was gone, ducking back behind him and going back to work fidgeting with his strap.

It was while Arthur was staring at his boots, waiting for Merlin to get the latch unstuck, a thought occurred to him.

How would Merlin know how his armor was? It wasn't like Merlin had any extensive knowledge on Arthur's equipment, he didn't even have a mild knowledge.

Arthur narrowed his eyes just the tiniest bit as his thoughts when wild. When would Merlin had had time to know anything about his armor? Sure, Merlin had caught sight of it when they'd been training this morning, but Arthur had been wearing it. It wasn't like Merlin had any time to look it over.

No, the only chance he would have had...in that moment, Arthur had an instinct flashback. To what had just occurred not that long ago, when Merlin had shown up out of nowhere carrying his armor. And slamming it down onto the table carelessly, Arthur added in his thoughts a bit spitefully.

And now that he was thinking about it, Arthur had never actually gotten a straight answer for why Merlin had his armor this morning. Had he actually done something to it? But Morris had checked it over throughly, it had come back looking untouched.

But that also didn't explain why it was so tight.

Had Morris missed something and Merlin really had tampered with his armor? Or maybe, Morris hadn't missed anything. And maybe Merlin was tampering with it...right now.

Arthur's spine went stiff, and wild accusations floated through his mind. Maybe Merlin was petty enough to sabotage his biggest tournament of the year because of the callous way the prince had been treating him. And another much more wilder theory drifted through his mind. Maybe Merlin wasn't really Merlin, maybe he was an imposter that had been sent to infiltrate Camelot to get all of their secrets. For all Arthur knew, this Merlin had killed the real Merlin before taking his place.

And nobody would have been the wiser since nobody knew what the real Merlin looked like.

But this Merlin wasn't smart enough to be some kind of spy, unless that was a part of the ploy. To act so dumb that everybody dropped their guard and this Merlin could gain access to all of Camelot's most well guarded secre-.

"Gwen said to push it through here, but I really have to push it hard because it's jammed up under there. Fuck, she wasn't kidding when she said push hard. Come on, already, I don't have time for this...ah! Got it!" And Arthur felt his shoulder piece settling into it's rightful place.

Arthur's wild theories screeched to a halt as Merlin's mumbling under his breath reached his ear. The name of his father's ward's handmaiden was enough to make Arthur's wild theories shatter like glass all around him.

"Great." Merlin was mumbling again, locking the strap into place with the buckle. "Almost done. Thank god Gwen showed me how to do this when I tried it on. Or else I never would have figured it out."

"...You tried on my armor?" Arthur asked, his voice sounding deadly even to his own ears.

Merlin's head popped up, nearly freezing in place when his eyes connected with the prince's. The blonde was glaring at him over his shoulder, his eyes sharp and focused on Merlin with a deadly intent to them.

"...No, of course not." Merlin lied quickly, shaking his head under that penetrating gaze. "What on earth makes you think I did that?"

X

"Did you hear that? He had the audacity to try on Arthur's armor." Morris hissed out the corner of his lips to George. He still had the neutral expression on his face. But although he looked serene on the outside, it was a completely different story entirely on the inside. He hadn't moved a muscle this entire time, trying to do better because as much as he hated it, Morris was a manservant and Merlin was the consort that he was supposed to be. But several times, he had to stop himself from intervening when he thought Merlin was getting particularly to close to Arthur for his taste. It wasn't the professional job that Morris himself could have done.

Merlin was way to touchy feeling, and Morris had been seething under his breath the entire time.

"If he was anybody else, I would certainty agree." George said beside him, still carrying around his pitcher of juice for whenever Merlin had need of it. "But as Sir Merlin is Prince's Arthur's consort, I believe that we don't have to worry about my master being arrested for touching something that belongs to the royal family."

"...I hate you so much right now." Morris grumbled, still staring daggers in the direction of Merlin and Arthur. At this point, Morris had crescent moon shaped marks in the palms of his hands from his fingernails, doing everything in his power not to storm over there and get Arthur's attention on himself.

"I know." George said brightly, the serene smile on his face never breaking for an instant.

Morris took a deep breath before repeating the mantra he'd been going over in his head this entire time.

He had to do better, he had to do better, he had to do bett...

X

"You literally just said it!" Arthur exclaimed, pointing an accusatory finger at Merlin as he turned to face him.

"I think you're hearing things!" Merlin exclaimed. "You might want to get that checked out! It can't be good to be a knight if you can't even hear your enemy coming up behind you!"

"There's nothing wrong with my hearing!" Arthur exclaimed, feeling that very strong urge to just throttle Merlin into oblivion. "You took my armor just before my biggest fight of the year! And for some godforsaken reason, thought it would be perfectly acceptable to try it on!"

"Well it wasn't like you needed it when I had it!" Merlin defended himself. "I brought it back right 'on time!'" He made sure to enunciate the last two words, glaring at Arthur if the other man tried to accuse him of being late again. "And I brought it back in the same condition that I found it in. Rather I tried it on or not doesn't matter in the least."

"Dos-doesn't matter?" Arthur exclaimed. "Of course it matters! Because now, you've done rearranged everything. It doesn't fit right! What could have possibly possessed you to think that this was okay!"

"It's entirely in your head, there's nothing wrong with it." Merlin said dismissively, "It's not my fault that your shoulders are so much fatter than mine." The dark haired boy eyed the shoulders in question, noticing just how broad they must be having to bear the weight of that shoulder piece. Then he shook his head and decided that their conversation was done. He walked around the prince so that he could get to the table, there was only a few more things still left on it.

Merlin reached down onto the table, picking up the pendragon red cloth that was carefully folded on the edge of it. It was the cape that Arthur was supposed to wear to represent his family, all of the knights would be wearing their own capes per their family.

He had barely picked it up though, before the was an iron grasp clamped down around his wrist. Before he could blink, Merlin had been thrown back around, and Arthur's penetrating eyes were back on his own. Merlin didn't have a chance to move away before Arthur was stepping into his space, pinning him against the table.

Merlin felt the sharp edge of the table pressing harshly into the small of his back as he leaned against it to get some space from Arthur. But all that did was make the prince crowd against him further. Merlin's thin wrist was held in Arthur's hot hand, and Arthur was holding himself up with his other hand planted firmly on the table. Merlin could feel his arm pressed up against his side, leaving absolutely no way for Merlin to leave without going through him.

But since Arthur was built as heavy and as thick as a stone brick, going through him wasn't an option. Not with the scrawny limbs that Merlin possessed, and he wasn't about to use magic to make Arthur move away.

Arthur leaned further into Merlin, and the boy leaned further back over the table. If the table wasn't there to hold him, Merlin would have no doubt fallen backwards from the awkward way he was standing.

"Now let's try this again." Arthur said calmly, an eerie calm that put Merlin on his guard in an instant. "I want to know what was going through that mind of yours," as he said this, Arthur reached up with the hand that wasn't holding Merlin's wrist captive. Merlin tensed up, watching that hand near his face, almost expecting him to do something horrible. But all the blonde did was brush his fingertips over where Merlin's temples were. The tips of Merlin's hair hanging in the way barely brushed against Arthur's fingers. "When you stole my armor, and used it as your own personal plaything." He finally finished.

And although his fingertips against Merlin's temple had been gentle, his voice was anything but. There was a dark undertone to it that sent shivers down Merlin's spine. Arthur's tone had been dangerous and deadly, low enough for only Merlin to hear him.

But strangely enough, it caused a strange stutter to form in Merlin's chest. And staring into Arthur's eyes, pinned up against the table by his very firm body, Merlin could only stare with wide eyes as a heat started building under his cheeks.