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!

55. Chaptee 55

The room was dark, and there was nothing to light the room other than the flames crackling away inside the fireplace the two young boys, that were far too young to be facing the kind of problems they were involved with, stood in front of. The way the flames danced casted a shadow not only across the walls of Arthur's bedroom, but it also caused shadows across their faces. All in all, it made a very creepy and eerie atmosphere to surround them. The warmth of the fire so close didn't make the consort feel any warmer than when he'd first arrived.

Merlin didn't know what he was feeling more of but it wasn't heat from the fire. He was torn between his rising anger at Arthur being so hard headed or his growing frustration over Arthur's decision. Why was Arthur unable to see the big picture? Why could he not see what was right in front of him? That he-if the dragon was to be believed-had a destiny that was bigger than dying over pride in a stupid tournament. A silly tournament wasn't worth the price one would pay if it cost them their own life.

"Why not?" Merlin demanded after Arthur told him that he wasn't going to withdraw from the tourney. That he couldn't withdraw from the tourney. But it was all quite simple to Merlin. All Arthur had to do was declare that he wasn't going to fight. There! Then Arthur's life would be spared because Valiant wasn't able to kill him.

Arthur finally turned to look at him, and there was an equal bit of frustration shining in his eye's as it was in Merlin's, "Aren't you able to understand?" He demanded, more harshly then he had been talking since Merlin had returned to him. But from the way that Merlin had his eyebrows creased together, the way he had a prominent frown that seemed almost permanently etched on his face, and the deep hurt that was shining out from his eyes. As if he felt sorry for Arthur, sorry that this was happening to him, sorry that he was the cause of all of this. It was clear that Merlin didn't understand. "I can't withdraw." The prince finished, his voice dropping low again, as if he was suddenly too tired to put up anymore of a fight.

He couldn't even muster up a proper amount of anger to raise at Merlin. He didn't want to scream, to shout, or to rage. He just wanted to...to live. But he wasn't a peasant, he wasn't Merlin. He didn't get the option of doing what he wanted with his life, he lived for his people and that was that. This was the burden that he had been chosen to carry upon his birth, it was his birthright. And it had never felt as heavy to carry as it did right then. Not even when he'd married Merlin.

"The people expect their prince to fight." He said, much more calmly as he all but begged Merlin to understand him, to stop trying to pressure him into quitting. Because he almost feared that he would take Merlin up on it, but he didn't get that luxury. "How can I lead my men into battle if they think I'm a coward?"

He was supposed to be their king, he was supposed to be brave and strong, able to lead them where no man would follow but them, because they trusted him to lead them back out again. Just like his father.

"How can you lead them if you are dead?" He demanded in response to Arthur's excuses, making Arthur stiffen. He hated to admit that Merlin made himself a valid point, but at the same time, he felt himself being torn because all he could see was the disappointment on his father's face as he yelled at him during the council meaning after having picked apart Merlin's lies so easily. "Valiant is going to kill you." Merlin said firmly, not trying to sugar-coat the truth. Sometimes, hearing the hard truth was just what people needed, he hoped it was what Arthur needed to be able to see reason. "You may not want to admit how absolutely stupid all of this is, but you do know that I'm right." Merlin met Arthur's eye's head on, not shying away from the prince's gaze, "I can see it in your eyes."

Arthur felt uncomfortable, with the way that Merlin's eye's were baring down into his own. It made him feel as if Merlin was trying to look into his very soul, as if he was trying in vain to determine rather or not Arthur was worthy of him trying so hard to stop this fight. He was probably just feeling guilty, Arthur thought to himself. Guilty because it was him that had jumpstarted this whole thing, it was Merlin that had made Arthur act without thinking and had caused Valiant's ire towards him. It was enough ire that Valiant now wanted to kill him. Arthur looked away, but Merlin wasn't done with him yet.

"If you fight." Merlin said firmly, making his voice as honest and as truthful as he could make it, "You will die." He wasn't making an assumption or just guessing, or warning him that he was being stupid. He was telling him in no uncertain terms, that Arthur was going to die. Tomorrow. Most people encouraged Arthur, told him that he was better and could do better than what he was giving. But not him, not Merlin. Merlin was there to tell him that he was being stupid, that he needed to think of what going out there meant. That he needed to choose to live. But that wasn't who Arthur was.

"Then I die." Arthur said, as if his life was just merely a game and it didn't matter either way rather he lived or die. Because Arthur knew he would rather die then live in a world where his father was ashamed of him, ashamed of the choices Arthur had been dumb enough to make. He wasn't worthy of being the king if he couldn't overcome something like this.

Merlin looked horrified by this response, not believing that Arthur seemed to care so little for his own life. "How can you go out there and fight like that?"

Merlin sounded so disappointed in him, as if Arthur had somehow disappointed him by behaving as any prince should. It was enough to rattle Arthur, to make him want to vent and let Merlin know exactly how tough and hard it was to make these kind of decisions, the kind that someone with his kind of status had to make so that nobody else had to. To be the one to make the tough calls that nobody else would have the guts to make. That was what being a prince-being a future king-meant.

And that's exactly what Arthur decided to tell him, "This is what being a prince means." He explained heavily, feeling as if all of the weight in the world was resting on top of his shoulders. "This is what my people need."

Arthur had learned this lesson a long time ago, it was probably the first thing his father had felt the need to drill into his skull. That nothing was about him, that nothing about himself mattered. His wants, his own dreams, his desires, none of them were more important than his own people. And the trust his people had in him relied on him being a good prince. He was meant to die and to live for his people, that was just the way things had to be. For the good of his people, as his father would tell him.

Merlin's lips thinned, not accepting this as a good enough answer. Clearly, nothing he'd said was getting through Arthur's thick head. Merlin needed to stop begging him, to stop trying to clarify that Arthur's life was at stake, and to maybe talk with terms that the prince was able to understand.

"Your people need you alive." Merlin insisted with a renewed fiber in his gut, a desperation that had built the longer this conversation went on with no change in direction. "They don't need you dead because you are being to prideful to forfeit a match you know that you can't win!"

Merlin wasn't like the 'yes man' that Arthur surrounded himself with. He wasn't one of those men who thought the sun shined right out of Arthur's arse. He wasn't afraid to tell Arthur the cold, hard, truth of the situation.

Arthur couldn't bare to look at him anymore, couldn't bare to see Merlin's earnest face for a single second more. He didn't think he'd be able to not agree with him, and he just didn't want to agree with Merlin of all people. His people did need him alive, but they also had to have faith that he was brave and strong enough to shoulder an entire kingdom on his own.

"I have to do this." Arthur said softly, feeling the heat of the flames flickering near his face as he stared deeply into the crackling abyss. "It's my duty." The words tasted like ash on his tongue, the same kind that would remain in his fireplace after the flames would die down. The same kind that Morris would be cleaning out later on, would Arthur already be done by the time the manservant returned to straighten up his room?

Arthur wasn't ready to die, he didn't want to die. There was so much he hadn't done, so much he hadn't accomplished. He hadn't even made it to kinghood yet. And the last thing he had done in this life was not only disappointed his father, but he had Merlin looking at him as if he were a stranger. As if he didn't know what to make of Arthur, this strange specimen in front of him. But he also felt as if he had no choice. He had to do this, he had to make things right for his father, to regain his father's confidence in him.

He had to.

Even if it killed him in the end.

His words seemed to strike a cord in Merlin, and the smaller boy didn't know what to say after that. It was as if, for the first time since he'd arrived, Merlin was starting to realize just how far apart his world and Arthur's worlds were. Two worlds that were never meant to touch and yet somehow-through faith, or destiny, or even just pure chance and coincidence-found themselves intertwined.

But not for long. One 'half of the coin' was about to say goodbye to the mortal plane.

Merlin didn't have anything to say to Arthur after that. The council meeting had failed, the spell on the statue had failed, and now trying to talk Arthur out of it had failed. Was there anything he could do right?

Merlin shook his head with disgust, both at himself and at Arthur. Without another word to the prince, Merlin turned his back to him and headed to the door.

He stopped when a voice spoke up from behind him, "Are you really not going to be there?" Arthur asked, steadfastly not looking in Merlin's direction as he said this. He didn't even know why he had asked, the words had came out before he'd even registered them. It still made his ears perk up as he strained to hear Merlin's response.

Merlin didn't want to go, he didn't want to be forced to sit there and watched as Arthur was slain right before him. But if Arthur was about to ask him to, he knew he would be. "Didn't you say you didn't want me there?" He asked the prince. Arthur was the one that had told Merlin just minutes before that he didn't need Merlin.

Arthur licked at his dry lips, still avoiding the urge to look back at the other boy, "Well I just suppose...if you did go...there isn't anything I could really do to stop you..." there was a lot of things Arthur could do to stop him, like he could have the guards put him on room arrest and have him grounded. But he wouldn't...it may not be so bad for him to look out at the crowd and see the sight of Merlin standing there, at the exact spot that he had claimed during the other rounds.

It hit Merlin, the realization, like he'd just been hit in the face with a modern day sledgehammer. This was Arthur's weird, odd, and twisted way of asking him to be there. If only so he didn't have to say the actual words.

Merlin shook his head, looking grim because Arthur was inviting him to a tourney so that he could watch him die. It wasn't exactly the picture perfect date he'd imagined, it wasn't a date at all because Merlin would have told him no even if he had asked him proper. He deserved to be told no for once. But Merlin didn't tell him no, at least not this time, if only so Arthur wouldn't die alone.

"I'll be there." Merlin said, his voice coming out sure and strong, almost surprising them both. But there was one thing that Arthur, to busy in keeping his eyes firmly on the fire in front of him, would have noticed if he'd just bothered to look at the boy. He would have seen the strange determination flashing in Merlin's eyes, he would have seen the very odd and stiff way Merlin was standing.

Arthur wasn't going to die tomorrow, Merlin thought darkly, his blue eyes swirling with a dangerous tension in them. Not if he would have any say in it.

Arthur hesitated for a brief moment, but as he heard Merlin making his way back for the door, his steps sure and strong, it spurred him on before Merlin could make it passed the doorframe. "And will you cheer for me this time?"

It had been a stupid running joke at this point, how Merlin had taken pleasure in rooting for Arthur's competition. How he had done it on purpose just to drive Arthur crazy, and crazy it had. He couldn't be seen as the prince who couldn't keep his consort in line, as the royal whose own consort didn't think he could win a fight. But things were different now. It almost seemed silly, and there was no place for silly in a fight like tomorrow's.

But still, Arthur felt a craving in the depths of his gut trying to claw it's way out. It might be nice, to see Merlin-for once-screaming his name in the crowd, yelling at him to win this thing instead of his opponents.

Merlin had his back to Arthur now, one hand on the door handle and about to push down and allow himself out. But Arthur's question had him stopping in his tracks, remembering all the times he had taunted Arthur by rooting for another man. It had amused him greatly at the time, still did actually. He remembered the time Arthur had shoved him against the wall in the stadium hallways, pissed as hell as Merlin had just been screaming for another fighter to win.

Merlin hunched his shoulders a little, if only he knew then what he knew now. He may had spent less time playing around and more time studying the other spells in his book, trying to find a proper spell that would have been able to fix everything. Instead of being stuck on the one spell that seemed like a dud.

"...Only if you win." Merlin said softly, his eyes trained on the floor at his feet. And then he was gone, the door closing behind him as he left Arthur to his thoughts.

Arthur looked up but by the time he had, the door was already closing and he could hear the faint sound of Merlin's footsteps fading away. And the entire room suddenly seemed a lot more darker, dimmer...scary, then it had been before. Now that he was alone.

Arthur turned back to the fireplace as he mused over Merlin's words in his mind over and over again. He focused on them so hard that his brain was hurting, but it was better than thinking of his impending doom.

Merlin was going to root for him for the first time, but only if he won. If he beat Valiant into the ground instead of allowing the Knight to do it to him. If he lived.

It was a little thing, something that many would see as inconsequential in the long run of things. Maybe Merlin didn't even see it for what it was. But Arthur saw it, as plain as day and under the watchful eye of the crackles in the flames, Arthur's lip curled upwards into a mockery of a grin. Merlin had just given him something to live for, just a small and tiny bit of satisfaction at seeing Merlin swallow his tongue and actually root for the one man that he was supposed to this entire time.

Merlin had just given Arthur a solid reason to fight. And the smaller boy didn't even realize it.

X

Merlin struggled to pry his eye's open, but they seemed to be crusted shut. He groaned low in his throat, feeling his eyes aching as he literally pried them open. It didn't take him long to realize why he was so stiff, or why he felt as if everything on him was aching.

He was sitting on the floor of his rooms at his uncle's, at the foot of his bed and leaning on the chest situated there. He'd been in this very same spot for at least eight hours, if the sun peeking in through his shutters was any indication.

Merlin groaned again, his throat to dry to get much more out. But he licked his lips anyway as he strained his ears. He could just faintly hear the sounds of roosters crowing, as they did every morning as the sun started to rise.

Merlin blinked the crust out of his eyes as he took stock of what he was doing on the floor. That's right, he thought wearily as he spotted what was causing a heavy weight in his lap. It was his magic book, spread open over his lap to the page with the animated sculpture. He didn't even try to pry his fingers away from the edges, knowing that it would only cause the stiff joints even more pain.

He must've fallen asleep holding it. This was no surprise. After he had finished with Arthur, the first thing he had done was return here to try his spell again. Only with a bit of renewed determination flooding him. He was going to make this bloody statue come alive even if he had to sink to the pits of hell if he had to just to get this damn spell working. And speaking of the statue, Merlin could see it now.

Still standing in front of him, still unmoving and frozen. It's body an eternal mix of pure stone, not even the wiggle of an ear or the twitch of an eye to indicate that he had been making process with the spell. He had been saying nothing but the spell over and over for hours, all night actually, and still, it might as well have been considered as nothing more than a waste of his time for all the good it did him.

Merlin could hear the sounds of the roosters crowing outside again. It was still early in the morning, it meant he had a few hours to keep doing this before the tourney started.

Merlin's head felt heavy and he let it loll down so his chin was closer to pressing against his chest. "Bebay odothay...artisan quickum." He repeated for the fifth hundredth time in eight hours. But it was barely a mumble under his breath, that was all he could get out in the exhausted state he was in. His eyes were so heavy, and he could feel them start to slip as darkness clouded his mind, slipping into the deep embrace of sleep all over again.

He had been in and out of it all night, waking for only brief periods to continue the spell, it was never long though before he would feel himself trying to sleep again, only to have to snap himself out of it to continue with a renewed force.

Not this time though. He could feel himself starting to slip and even though he knew he shouldn't, he could feel the hold of sleep was just to powerful for him to ignore. It was less him being sleeping and more on the verge of him about to loose consciousness. He had worked himself to the bone, pushing himself further than any man had gone before in the efforts to save the life of a man who hated them.

But even after he blacked out, even as he'd finally submitted to the sweet embrace of sleep, Merlin still mumbled the spell with a slow but steady stream of nonstop words.

"Bebay odothay...artisan quickum."

The statue still refused to shift shape.

X

Valiant smirked as he saw Arthur standing near him. The prince didn't seem to realize that he was there, but that was alright...for now. In just a couple of hours, Valiant would be sure that the prince wouldn't forget about him in his final moments.

Valiant sat on the edge of the stadium field, already prepared and ready for the fight even though it was hours yet to go. Call him eager, but he was more than ready to end this. To finally be known as the best swordsman in all the land, strong enough to take out even the Great Arthur Pendragon. His name would go down in history as the only one with enough skill to take down the man nobody could take down.

His shield was resting against the wall next to him, the front of it shining innocently under the morning sun. The snakes gleamed as the two left inside waited for their master's call.

Valiant's smirk grew as he slid his metal piece across the edge of his blade, hearing the sounds it made as the metal clinked against metal. He'd been sharpening his blade as a way to pass the time. It didn't hurt either, he couldn't wait to sink the sharpened edge of his blade straight into Prince Arthur's gut. To cement himself as the strongest of them all, stronger than even Camelot's Great Heir.

And, Valiant's smirk grew wider as the thought of a dark haired boy wondered into his mind. He most especially could not wait to take the prince's consort as a consolation prize after the 'trauma' of taking a life.

The boy himself may be nothing special, but Valiant had grown an obsession with him all the same. He grew obsessed with the idea of taking him, of fucking into his small and lithe little body as the boy underneath him cried for his prince to come and save him from the viper sinking his poison into him. Only, the prince would be long dead and there would be nobody coming for him.

His mouth salivated as the thought as he scraped his metal piece harsher down the hilt of his blade. He was going to celebrate his win this morning by taking the boy, maybe on the prince's own bed. The boy better enjoy what bit of freedom he had now. When Valiant was done with him, he was going to wish he had killed himself the second he heard the news of the prince's death by his hand.

Valiant whistled casually under his breath, a low and eerie whistle as he checked to see how sharp he was getting his sword. It was sharp enough to cause a pinprick of blood to form on the tip of his finger. He licked the blood off his finger as he determined that it wasn't sharp enough for his taste, not unless it could pierce straight through the prince's chainmail and into the soft flesh of his stomach.

Like a pig ready for carving.

X

Everything felt exceedingly normal. That was the thing that stuck out to Arthur the most on this day. He didn't feel as if today was the day he was going to die.

The sun was shining perfectly in the sky, and there wasn't a cloud to be seen. The blue of the sky seemed to drag on for miles upon endless miles, and he could stand here just watching it as the hours drifted pass him.

Arthur had gone to sleep the night before not long after Merlin had left him. And even then, he had only done so because he had needed his rest. He knew he needed to be as prepared as he could be, and that included a good night's sleep the evening before. Even if he had tossed and turn for far longer than he would have liked.

And now here he stood, directly in the center of the stadium. He still had another hour or so before he needed to start getting ready for the fight, but something had drawn him here beforehand.

Arthur kicked at the sand beneath his feet and watched as it sprung up into bits of dust before melding back into the ground. He was unable to stop himself from looking around the place, breathing every second as if it may be his last. The stadium was made out of rich red walls surrounding him in a perfect oval from every direction. He could see the fancy chair that was his father's, the ropes that were there only to corded off the area as to indicate this was the king's seat, the best one in the entire arena.

Maybe he had been drawn here because this was the place he was to die? It was strange just how much he noticed when he considered he may never see any of this again.

He felt as if it should be raining, as if the very heavens were opening up the skies to cry and mourn at the death of their beloved prince. But from the heat of the sun on his skin, it was clear that it was most likely not going to be raining on this day.

It made Arthur feel...normal, in some strange sense of the word. As if he wasn't a prince that even the heavens would be crying for. It felt as if he could have been an ordinary man, for all the gods cared if he died or not.

He wondered how it would happen. If Valiant would manage to somehow get the drop on him and slit his throat before he registered it was happening. Or maybe Valiant would be able to get on top of him, and slam his head into the ground as his father watched from his safe spot in the stands.

He wondered if Merlin would scream when he saw it...Arthur's eyes drifted to the bleachers, to one seat in particular in the front row. That section was usually where Morgana and her handmaiden Gwen sat to watch whenever a tourney was happening. But now, Merlin had taken to accompanying them to.

Arthur let out a shaky exhale as he was being forced to remember the night before. About how Merlin would only scream for him-root in his name and honor-if Arthur won the fight.

Arthur straightened out his shoulders, the troubled look that had been on his face as he looked around what may become his tomb was starting to ease up. It would be worth it, wouldn't it? To fight against Valiant and to win, if only to see Merlin swallowing his tongue and pride.

The boy had been so adamant about taunting Arthur as he screamed other men's names by the stands. Rooting for other men to win even as Arthur was fighting them with the clear upper hand. Merlin had needed to be taught a lesson, Arthur could see that now, taught if only to show him that Arthur was the best. If only to show him that he couldn't go around screaming other men's name.

Arthur relaxed his shoulders just a bit, that was alright. He was going to prove to Merlin today that he was capable of rising to this challenge. He was going to force Merlin to swallow that ridiculous pride of his and admit that Arthur was better.

He just had to defeat a man who was actually vying to kill him.

...Arthur left the stadium feeling a little more confident and hopeful than he had when he got there. His confidence had been shaken after the council meeting, his father's voice sounding so disappointed ringing in the midst of his eardrums. But now, he had the voice of Merlin joining it: only if you win.

Even if Merlin was a bloody liar, Arthur could really use this little incentive-this confidence booster. He would never admit that he was grateful for it.

X

Arthur's confidence was shot. It was as if the brief rise of hope and strength he had, hadn't even been there in the first place. And as was becoming the usual, it was all because of a single person: Merlin.

Arthur had just assumed that Merlin would be returning to him at this hour. To help him get prepared for the finales like he had the other times, but maybe he should just stop assuming anything when it came to the boy. Because he had yet to arrive, and he didn't even know if Merlin was going to come at all.

Was he not coming because he thought the prince wouldn't be able to win this? Was his words that had-briefly-inspired Arthur into fighting with the best of his abilities just pretty words? Had Arthur really fallen for that false face of innocence again? Or maybe this was just another taunt to Merlin. A way of saying Arthur wasn't worth his attention unless he could walk out of the tourney in victory.

Arthur was standing in his dressing room and had been since he'd left the stadium. Sounds came from behind him, but it was just Morris fussing around with his armor. Arthur kept his head bowed, and his arms tucked behind his back, a solemn frown on his lips.

Hearing the sounds of Morris behind him was nothing less than frustrating. His servant was explaining how he should start to get dressed so that he could be prepared for the fight. He was going on and on about Arthur needing to be safe, and that he shouldn't look so worried because it was obvious that Arthur was going to win. Morris was flattering him, it was all he did these days.

Merlin probably would have told him not to go getting a big head, and proving he made the right decision to root for another all those times when he ultimately lost this by being overconfident. Well, it sounded like something Merlin would say at least. But he wasn't here, and all the blonde could do was hear it in his head.

Why did he want him here so bad? He should want nothing to do with him after the council meeting and all. But Merlin had still came to see him, had tried to talk him out of fighting even after the fight they'd had involving the favor...it was complicated and Arthur found himself hating it.

If Merlin wasn't going to show up, then he'd just forget about him. The boy wasn't worth his time anyway, even if he went out of his way to talk Arthur out of a death match.

"Let's just get started." Arthur interrupted Morris' ramblings, his jawline stiff and stern as he turned away from the window. He'd half been expecting to see Merlin running along the courtyard trying to get there in time. The boy was always late, and always kept him in the sidelines waiting. Well, not this time. He wasn't going to sit there looking like a fool for a boy that wasn't going to show up.

He would just have to do this without him. It was the way it was supposed to be from the start.

Morris seemed to sense the tension in the prince because he didn't say a word against it. Maybe it was the way Arthur was holding himself, all hunched over and scowling-although he would swear to his dying days (which was probably today) that he wasn't mad about anything. He was just... stiff because of the competition today. That was all there was to it.

Morris moved with somebody who had been practiced in dressing the prince. His fingers were strict and professional, getting Arthur dressed in a record time, just like old times before Merlin had shown up and taken over his job. Morris was done in half the time it had ever taken Merlin, getting Arthur dressed in a matter of minutes where it took Merlin all of forever, or at least that was what it felt like.

Arthur still couldn't help but compare it, and it left him more irritable than before. Like how Merlin was constantly moving his own limbs around to make the consort's job easier. How Morris didn't say a word as he readjusted his straps to fit sturdily against his body.

In any other circumstance, the silence would have been a welcomed relief. It was just him and his thoughts, like it should be. There was no irritating voice nattering around in his ears and keeping him distracted. Which meant he had plenty of time to think about his fight, he could let his mind wonder aimlessly on rather or not the sun he could see streaming into the room would be just the start of the last time he got to see it.

"...So...has anything happened in your life lately?" Arthur grunted, feeling his eye twitch as he glared down at the floor. He felt just so dumb after he said it, but having his mind go off in a wonder was literally killing him. He'd spent the time his mind had wondered off on thinking of different strategies to counteract whatever movies Valiant may try on him. But nothing seemed right either, because Valiant was unpredictable and volatile. It was just far to easy for him to slip into his own mind as he didn't have Merlin to keep up a long and steady line of conversation, often throwing Arthur off his game as the incompetent man took his time dressing him when he had places to be.

He felt Morris' fingers when they froze up on the strap at his waist, trying to buckle his chest plate into place. And then the prince, without even looking at the manservant, was somehow able to tell that Morris brightened up by this. It was probably the first time that the blonde had ever made any inquiries into his manservant's personal life, and he could feel that he was going to regret it.

And true enough, Arthur was regretting his question before Morris got his first sentence out, "Well, sire." Morris stated in a pompous tone, looking at Arthur with stars in his eyes as he started. "There is nothing extraordinary going in my own life. Nothing like your own is, of course. It must be so exciting to have the life of a prince-"

Arthur was bored within seconds, and even worse, he got sucked back into his thoughts as he tuned Morris out. Like how Valiant had probably studied his moves to get a handle on what he could do. Unlike Arthur who had always seemed distracted by Merlin during the other knight's previous fights.

They both had very different reactions when the door suddenly swung open with enough force to slam into the wall behind it. Morris was cut off mid-sentence, yelping in surprise as he coward behind Arthur. Arthur reached for his sword that was strapped into his side, falling into a practiced crouch to give him the optimum chance for survival.

Neither one was the move they needed to make for this situation.

It was just Knight Gregory who was coming to give his report to Prince Arthur, about the situation with a guard allowing Valiant onto the royal floor. This report involved Gregory dragging a secondary Knight into the room. Literally. Gregory had his arms locked around the second Knight, under his arms, holding him in a headlock fashion as he dragged him in.

The second Knight was kicking up a fuss. He had his heels digging into the ground, trying in vain to wiggle himself free as he screamed idle threats to Gregory. Of what he would do once he got free, of taking his actions up to the prince and getting him put on disciplinary probation. But the Knight had no way to get himself free. Gregory had already disarmed him of his sword, and the chokehold he was in prevented him from getting enough stable footing to properly fight back with hand-to-hand combat.

Gregory literally threw the Knight onto the floor right at Arthur's feet, the door slamming shut behind him as he did so, keeping their conversation private.

Morris stood behind Arthur, looking with wide at the scene in front of him. Gregory looked like an imposing figure, planting himself in front of the door as if the secondary Knight was going to make a run for it. The Knight in questioned scrambled to his knees, scowling hatefully at the floor in front of his prince.

And Arthur, he frowned as he slid his sword back into the scabbard at his side, "What is the meaning of this?" He demanded, and he narrowed his eyes on the Knight in front of him suspiciously.

"Sire," the Knight of the floor said urgently, his hands clenching into fists against the floor. "This is all just some misunderstanding and it you give me to a minute to explain-"

He was interrupted when Knight Gregory had kicked him on the back of his knees when he tried to stand up. The secondary Knight cried out as he hit the ground, sprawling out onto his stomach.

Gregory took command of the situation, "My prince," the Knight said, pressing his boot on the top of the secondary knight's back when the man tried to get up again, pressing down on it until the man had been forced onto his belly. "I would like to introduce you to Knight Charles." Gregory's voice was strict and gruff, he held a veiled look of contempt and disgust on his features when he looked at the heap on the floor.

Arthur said nothing about this roughness to one of his knights, narrowing his eyes further in thought, "And what is Knight Charles doing here?" He questioned slowly, trying to work out the pieces for this puzzling encounter.

The Knight on the floor let out a grunt as Gregory pressed down harder on his back with his foot, putting more weight on it to prevent the Knight from wiggling to much. "I believe his usual job is a guard position. He is usually guarding the entranceway to the knight's quarters during tournaments and important events is which the stadium is being used."

Charles didn't try to get up anymore under the prince's watchful eye. He just scowled at the floor, as if it had done something that was particularly offensive to him. But that may be because even he knew Gregory had at least an extra hundred pounds of solid muscle on him, and any attempt to get up would only be met with embarrassment on his part.

"And what," Arthur started slowly, hands stiff at his side as he watched Knight Charles who had been stooped so lowly as to be forced to lay on the floor. "Is Knight Charles doing here now?"

It was a disgrace for an honored Knight to be on the floor as if he was nothing lower than a peasant. For Gregory to be forcing him onto the floor as he was now, he must have done something just horrible enough to deserve the lowly position.

"He doesn't deserve the title of Knight." The dark skinned Knight announced darkly, he had this look in his eyes that could have killed a man right where he stood. "He has brought the brotherhood of the knights to a disgrace, and should be stripped of his titles." The man pressed all of his weight down onto the other man's back, making Charles grit his teeth at the humiliation. There would probably be an imprint of the knight's boot on his back by the time Charles was allowed to stand. "He is the one that you sent me to search for, all evidence points towards him and his crime against Consort Merlin."

Morris perked up at the sound of the name, a lot more focused on the situation than he had otherwise been. At this point, anything that had to do with the consort was enough to get Morris' attention. Any little information could be the key in helping him get what he wanted the most: Merlin out.

On the other hand, Arthur froze as he came to realize that this may all really be just some kind of misunderstanding, like Knight Charles had been trying to claim. He had been busy with everything else: the council meeting and then coming to terms with Merlin being an extremely petty liar, and then trying to get up his nerves so that he could face Valiant in the finals...he had forgotten to tell Gregory that the search was called off.

Earlier, before the council meeting, Arthur had instructed his faithful Knight to track down the guard that was supposed to be on duty the night Knight Valiant supposedly got into the royal suites. But that was before he had realized Metin had been petty and lied about the whole thing just because of the favor...he was just now realizing that this was also his consort's fault.

If Merlin hadn't lied, Arthur never would have sent his Knight on a manhunt that was going to ruin another Knight. Because of his orders to find this man, Gregory had just assaulted and dragged another Knight to him to receive a punishment that he didn't deserve. All of this was just another mark against Merlin to go with the endless amount of marks Arthur was making against him inside his own mind.

Arthur shook out his shoulders before he straightened himself up as he realized he had forgotten to tell Knight Gregory that the search was off. He was just going to have to fix the problem that Merlin had been causing him. "Knight Gregory." Arthur said as he let out a heavy and drawn out sigh. "It may have been more prudent to inform you a tad bit earlier, but as this man said, I do believe that this is a misunderstanding. I was given some news after I ordered you to find this man that may prove to be innocent."

Arthur still found this difficult to swallow, to know that Merlin had been able to sway him to think the worse of his knights so easily. He had thought he'd known better than to fall for sad eye's, he was just gonna have to harden himself against it if Merlin was really sticking around.

Gregory frowned at him, looking perplexed by this statement, "But sire." He said in his normally bland tone. "He confessed to this crime. He told me himself that he'd allowed Knight Valiant onto the floor that night."

Charles flushed, it hadn't been his proudest moment. Gregory had been asking around to find out who was guarding the royal suites that night, and Charles had dumbly said that it was him. And then Gregory had started to ask him more questions, and Charles had happily answered them. About how yes, he had seen Valiant up on the floor. And yes, he had allowed the man entrance because he'd been wanting to welcome the consort to his new home, as he feared he hadn't made the greatest impression during the meet and greet and had wanted to apologize. Charles had insisted Merlin didn't need no apology, but Valiant claimed he couldn't sleep without trying to make things right between them. So Charles had happily allowed the man into the hall, thinking how swell of a guy this Knight must be to come apologizing to a would-be peasant. How was he to know that Gregory was just fishing for information, and that he would be dragged straight to the prince for his perceived 'crimes'.

Arthur on the other hand, was having a much different reaction than Charles was. He had frozen up, his entire world seemed to sway around him in a dizzying way. He suddenly felt as if the world had somehow shrunken down to nothing and he was now much to big to fit in it.

Charles had...confessed? He had admitted to allowing Valiant onto the floor? Then the man had what? Gone to his consort's room and tried to force open his door? Had followed Merlin to the royal suites-if he remembered Merlin's story correctly-from the armory. Valiant had apparently been welcomed onto their floor by a Camelot Knight. A Camelot Knight had just allowed a strange man onto the floor where the royal family slept.

Where his father slept.

Where Morgana slept.

Where he slept.

...Where Merlin slept.

One truth seemed to stand out above all the rest. If Charles had truly confessed, if he was admitting that Valiant had been there on that night, then this meant that Merlin hadn't lied at all. He had came to Arthur for help only for Arthur to turn him away at the first sign of the trouble. Merlin had agreed to talk to Arthur's father, only for the king to accuse him of this being a falsehood. Merlin had came back to Arthur, even after their fight after the failed council meeting, to try and convince him not to fight because he'd known the truth even if nobody else believed him.

Had Merlin been telling the truth about all of it? Why would he tell the truth of an assault and then claim lies about Valiant's shield? He wouldn't have, that wouldn't have made any sense especially since Merlin had tried to keep the assault itself under wraps. Things suddenly got a lot more dangerous if he said the truth about the shield...

...Merlin had been telling him the truth this whole time. And Arthur had dismissed them all for-as his father had called them-nothing more than petty exaggerations. Arthur had even said Merlin was a liar straight to his face when all the boy had been doing was trying to convince him not to fight. Because despite everything, Merlin had known what Valiant was capable of. Worse than trying to kill the prince of the kingdom. Valiant was capable of not just rape, but attempting to rape a royal consort. Probably the most heinous crime a person could commit, made even worse by the intended victim having a status like Merlin did.

And Charles was the reason that this kind of injustice in his kingdom had almost gone unnoticed. Unpunished. He was the reason that Valiant had even gotten the chance to make a move on Merlin.

"Morris, you are free to go." Was the first thing Arthur said, not looking back at the servant in question. "I have no need for your services at this time." Morris didn't need to be here and listening in on the royal affairs involving his consort and himself. Nor did he need to be there to bare witness to what was about to occur.

Morris frowned petulantly, but he must have recognized the stiffness that had returned to Arthur's voice. The tension in his shoulders were seen even through his armor, so Morris didn't try to argue back. Something he would never have done before Merlin had rocked up to Camelot. But even he could recognize that he would be pressing his luck if he tried to go for more than what was being offered: it was a chance to escape. Nobody would want to bare witness to what was about to occur.

Morris left, giving several deep bows on his way out of the room, closing the door softly behind him. He would leave and head on to the stadium where people were starting to gather for the finals. Besides, he didn't have a reason to listen in on what was Arthur most obviously about to punish this Knight for his wrongdoings.

Morris would have plenty of time to punish the knights himself once he managed to get himself on the throne, instead of that pesky Merlin.

X

Inside the room, Arthur had never allowed his eyes to wonder away from Knight Charles. He was considering just how pathetic the other knight was looking, sprawled out across the floor on his stomach. Now, that just wouldn't do.

Arthur gave a subtle cough, he didn't need to say anything else for Gregory to get what he wanted. Gregory silently lifted his foot off of Charles back before he stepped back to his place in front of the door. Preventing Charles from trying to leave, and anybody else from coming in. This was going to stay a private moment between the prince and his Knight.

Charles looked back towards Gregory with a look of uncertainty, and then back to Arthur who didn't say a word, before he carefully eased himself up to his knees. He had been half-expecting Gregory to shove him back on his stomach.

Arthur didn't say a word for what must have been the longest time. In reality, it could have felt like hours but it was mere minutes. Where tension coated every inch of them, it seemed to even sink into the very stones. The black around them on the walls just added to the tense atmosphere. Not even the very air in the room seemed to stir, as if afraid of the possible repercussions if it did.

Arthur started to pace in front of the man on his knees, face almost blank as he carefully considered his next move against the pitiful looking man in front of him.

Charles didn't appreciate being treated as if he was some kind of common criminal, and he straightened up as best as he could while still on his knees. "Sire, if you would just let me-"

Arthur made some kind of sound that came out from between his teeth, head whipping around to look at Charles. His blue pools for eyes almost seemed to be imitate what it'd be like if one was looking straight into the mouth of hell. The sound he had made wasn't quite a growl, nor was it a hiss, but some odd combination in the middle. Either way, it was clear what his intent meant: Shut. Up.

Charles snapped his mouth shut with a clink of teeth, looking a little worse for wear now that he was seeing just how irate the prince was about the situation.

Arthur resumed his pacing, going from one end of the wall to the next as he fell back into the thoughts that Charles had so rudely been snapping him out of.

Arthur didn't really know Charles. He hadn't even had any contact with this particularly Knight on a personal level. The man was at least a decade older than he was, so he had never been around when Arthur had been training to become a Knight himself. And he had never had any reason to seek out this one Knight in particular. Not when he could just call on those he knew, the ones that he had trained personally.

He at least knew the ones who passed his training regime had the skills necessary to become a worthy knight. He didn't promote them to active duty without fully trusting and knowing they were up to the task and could put this kingdom and it's safety above anything else.

But despite their difference in age, Arthur was the clear superior. And part of the job was him making sure that nothing like this travesty was allowed to happen inside his kingdom-his family-again. Charles wouldn't be allowed to leave this room without being touched, without being scorned, without him being properly punished for his crime against the consort.

Charles actions had put them the entire royal family in danger. There was a reason that only a handful of people were allowed on the floor, to either clean or to guard. But this man could have done away with all of them in their beds and Charles would have been happily milling about the entranceway during what would have been the Assassination of the Royal Pendragon Family. The entire kingdom would have fallen to ruins as the higher of nobles fought to declare who had more right to take over the throne. It would have been complete anarchy.

Charles actions had put Merlin in danger, he could have been done away with by Valiant before anyone had noticed. It wasn't like he was going to be checking on rather Merlin had made it through the night, unaware of the problem happening. He probably would have been found by his manservant at some point that morning, and by then, it may have been too late. And nobody would have even considered Valiant a suspect since it was his consort that had first pointed the fingers at him. Fingers that had been brushed aside as nothing more than a nuisance trying to create problems.

God, Valiant must have been gloating. Had he been taunting Merlin as Arthur walked away from the council meeting...oh, good god. He had left Merlin in that room with a man that had tried to rape him. Merlin didn't even seem to realize what rape was! Or at least that he, as a man, could have been raped just as a woman could be.

...Somebody was going to pay for that.

Charles watched the prince pacing back and forth, frowning. He could feel both a mix of nerves and self righteousness building up in him. He didn't understand why he was here, or why the prince was so angry. He had more important things to do, he should be at his post regulating to make sure nobody who wasn't worthy entered the knight's quarters.

Just like he should have been for the royal suite. But the problem was, Charles had considered Valiant to be worthy simply for his name and his title. And not his character.

Charles was wondering if he should chance trying to speak again, to demand that Arthur just hurry it along and give him a slap on the wrist if he wanted to because he had to get to his post. He was sure that his partner Justin wouldn't do nearly as good a job alone as he would if Charles was there.

But by the time he had worked up the nerve to question the prince, Arthur was bringing his hand to his waist and letting his finger trail along the hilt of his scabbard in what was an almost threatening manner. The prince was now speaking, which meant that Charles had no right to open his own mouth to try and talk over him. That would have been the quickest way for a Knight to get disciplined. Especially with the way Arthur was looking.

"So let me get this straight." Arthur said in a soft tone, so soft that it actually felt as if he was trying to lure Charles into a false sense of security. He was no longer looking at the Knight, instead, his rapt attention was sorely on the blade at his side. Arthur was slowly running the tips of his fingers down the top of the blade, so softly that one could have been thinking he was touching newborn flowers petals instead of a deadly weapon. "You, a lowly Knight-" Charles straightened up at this as he took offense to those words. He was much more than a 'lowly Knight'. But he was interrupted by Arthur continuing, "Decided to take it upon yourself to change the protocols that have been in place for decades." Arthur was taking no prisoners as he laid out the man's transgressions in front of him.

His grandfather had made the protocols for the royal suite when he first became king, but it was only after he had taken a mistress to his bed and woken with her trying to plunge a knife into his chest. She had been a assassin, come to finish the Pendragon family off long before Arthur was even born. Not a person outside the family nor special staff had seen the insides of the royal wing.

Charles frowned at him, "Valiant is a Knight who I'm sure comes from a noble family. He's not a threat to you!" Because that had to be what this was about. Arthur was concerned that Charles was unable to tell the difference between good men and not. But Valiant was a noble, he had literally been born with honor in his veins. It wasn't as if he was a peasant who should just go and play with the pigs in the mud so that the real men can get some of the work done.

Charles quieted down when Arthur shot a glare at him that was so venomous, it looked as if his eye's were bulging. Charles had been right though. Valiant wasn't a threat to Arthur, but he was a threat to Merlin. And that was just as bad in Arthur's book.

"He's a stranger!" Arthur barked, loud and harshly, making Charles flinch back in surprise. Arthur's thumb flicked up, pushing the hilt of his blade out of the scabbard, just the glint of the steel sword poking outwards. "You've allowed a strange man onto the floor that has the royal wing?" Charles didn't seem to notice.

How could anybody be so bloody stupid as to think this was okay? Arthur had never felt this angry, and that was actually saying something considering how many fights he have had with Merlin involved. The royal wing was supposed to be isolated, a well guarded and secret area of the castle where only chosen handpicked people outside the family were privy to.

Hell, nobody was even supposed to know which room led to whose bed. That had been deliberately done in the case of invades who streamed into the castle in the middle of the night. All of the doors looked the same on the outside, so nobody would have been able to tell the difference unless they were given the knowledge beforehand. This way, nobody'll know which room they'd end up in: the king's or the prince's, the ward's or the consort's.

It had all been done in the name of safety, in the name of protecting the royal family from those who wished to destroy it. Or to destroy one person in this case, but the point was still standing. Merlin was a member of the royal family now, and it was Arthur's job to-while not keep him happy because he still wasn't going to give in to Merlin wanting them to be together...did he want them together? Arthur was still a little unclear after Merlin had insisted he didn't love him-he was at least going to keep the boy safe. Merlin shouldn't have to fear the possibility of rape within these walls. Charles had practically spit all over that with the actions he had taken. Honestly, allowing that man into what was supposed to be considered a sanctuary for the Pendragon's.

"What do you have to say for yourself?" The prince spit out himself, practically spitting out venom as he turned back to look at the other Knight. Charles next words may determine his fate. His next words would be the deciding factor on rather or not Arthur just punished him severely, or end him where he sat.

Charles lifted his chin in a bold moment of defiance, looking as if he had done no wrong with his actions when he said, "With all due respect, sire, Valiant isn't just some random man. He is an honored guest in this castle and should be treated with all the hospitality we are able to offer him. Sir Valiant obviously comes from a very well respected family, one can tell from the way he holds himself that he has been raised well. All he wanted to do was talk to Merlin, I didn't see the harm in having him do so."

Arthur nodded his head one time at this, as if his firm nod was to indicate that this was the right answer. As if the Knight had made a very reasonable decision and shouldn't be on his knees before the prince as if he was facing some kind of trial.

"And then, you pointed him in the direction of my consort's room?" Arthur asked casually as he fished for more information that would literally have the man hanging himself. It was the only explanation for how Valiant had been able to get to Merlin's room undetected. He'd had to pass by Morgana's room first, and she was actually a lighter sleeper than Arthur. No doubt she would have woken at the sound of her door opening and a man peeking in as to check who slept in the bed. Then there was Arthur's room next, and Arthur was ashamed to admit that he was such a deep sleeper that he probably wouldn't have woken up to his door creaking open. His father's room would have been ignored as it was on the other side of the hall but much further down, away from the 'kids' so to speak. His father was as light a sleeper as Morgana-which a maid or two before Gwen had been given the job as handmaiden, had joked about it being a family trait despite the two having no blood ties and Arthur himself having not 'inherited' it. But either way, his father would have came up swinging if he heard his door opening, to many years of being king left him unable to rest easy when he was paranoid that war may break at any given second. Rather that would be between the other countries or against the magic users was a different story altogether.

The point was...Valiant would have had to go through all these different doors before he'd find Merlin's room on the end, right next to Arthur's own. Unless he had help and 'some one' found themselves the time to give him this information.

Charles nodded in eager anticipation, happy that his prince seemed to be getting it, happy that Arthur would agree that he had done the right thing by not 'alienating' Valiant and the strength he could bring to this kingdom by denying him what he wanted, "Of course!" He blustered to the prince. "I had to point him to the right door, or he would have woken up the entire household. I didn't want to have your sleep be interrupted with such a minor detail."

"...Minor?" Arthur repeated under his breath as his tone darkened. "You call that a minor detail?" Arthur wanted to beat Charles into the ground, to use his skull as he would a training dummy. To feel it be crushed under the strength of his hands. He wouldn't use weapons for the job, no. He was mad enough that his hands alone would have done the job just fine. Charles hadn't just given Valiant the entrance into the royal family chambers, he'd all but given him the damn key to Merlin's personal chambers. He had given this man the means of getting in and out of the room undetected. He had given Valiant the means of committing an awful act and then he would have had plenty of ample time to start up the charade of 'innocent bystander' once Merlin had been discovered.

"Of course it's a minor detail, but it was an important one!" Charles said as he defended his decisions, pouting as if he truly wasn't able to understand the deepening trouble he was talking himself into. "All Valiant wanted to do was talk to Merlin, it wasn't like it would have killed him if he allowed Valiant to come in. Personally," and this was when Charles had the nerve to lean forward and give Arthur an almost conspirator whisper, as if they were about to share some kind of private joke among themselves, "I think it was bad taste, bad manners on that little boy's part, for not opening the door. Sir Valiant was really upset about it when he was leaving. It was awful to be there! And I did try to smooth things over but Sir Valiant was not happy! And then when I heard the accusations that Merlin had made against it...it was outrageous! Clearly just a little boy who has to spit all over much more honorable and deserving people to make himself feel better." Charles finished his little speech with a firm nod of his head as he leaned back to rest on his heels. It really had been an awful experience, Charles had tried to help Valiant after Merlin had turned him away without even opening the door. He had offered for him to come back in the morning where the prince could mediate between the two, and he had offered to talk to Merlin on his behalf and let the boy know how childish he was being for not even allowing Valiant the chance to talk to him. But Valiant hadn't liked any of those suggestions, and had stalked away like a dog with his tail between his legs.

Charles didn't think he could ever forgive Merlin for that. For the boy to not swallow his own bloody pride and at least hear the Knight out...Valiant didn't need to come all that way to try and make amends with the peasant boy as Charles had taken to calling him inside the safety of his own mind.

"...I believe that is Consort Merlin to you." The prince drawled out, deciding that he had just heard enough of this man's insane decisions and such. Now, Arthur would be the last out of anybody to enforce Merlin being called by his proper title. But at the same time, the one thing he had gotten out of all of this was how Charles kept talking about Valiant with all of this reverence in his voice, and yet referred to Merlin with only scorn leaking out of every word he made. Arthur had actually spoken to Merlin's face with the same sort of tone, but it somehow sounded different when coming from another.

Arthur may not have cared so much if it was say-his friend Markus talking that way, or any of the great number of knights actually. But this was Charles, the Knight that didn't even seem to be capable of showing regret for his actions. Would he have regretted it when Merlin had his body discovered the next morning, when he was torn and bruised and bloodied, sheets soaked under him with blood after his virginity was so cruelly taken by somebody who didn't care to prepare him properly. Would Charles had even stepped forward and informed himself or the king that the last person to see Merlin was Valiant. Or would he have allowed the mystery of what happened keep until there had been so much time that passed, that it no longer mattered.

Arthur was literally seething at this point, the many possibilities and scenarios running over in his mind. Of what could have happened if Merlin had never confessed to him. Of what could have happened if Merlin hadn't been smart enough to lock his door that night. Of what may have happened if he hadn't sent Gregory to find who was guarding the floor that night. Of what could have happened if he had remembered to pull Gregory from the job as he thought Merlin was lying at the time.

But Merlin wasn't lying, he never had been. It was probably a struggle, having nobody that believed you while your own assailant would be walking free. Had Merlin been scared that Valiant would return to his room to finish the job?

He seethed even more when he saw Charles looking dumbstruck, clearly he hadn't been expecting to be reprimanded for forgetting Merlin's proper title. If this situation hadn't been so dire, Arthur probably wouldn't have seen the problem. But it was, and it was best to have this nipped in the bud.

"W-what, sire?" Charles asked, as if he was thinking he had possibly misheard. As if he thought his ears suddenly weren't working right and Arthur needed to repeat himself. He never repeated himself, and wasn't going to be starting now.

Arthur slowly wrapped his fingers around the hilt of his blade, tugging it out so that only the first part of it was sticking out, the gleam of the meter shining beautifully under the sunlight streaming in through the windows. It was beautiful in the threatening atmosphere.

"You called my consort a little boy." Arthur said in a dark tone, watching as Charles eyes dropped to the blade, finally seeing the death grip Arthur had on the handle. And then the prince watched with some veiled sense of satisfaction as Charles gulped, looking as if he were stricken as the true nature of the situation seemed to be drawing on him. "You call him this because he wouldn't allow a man he did not know into his room at such a late hour. You call him this because he is-as hard as it is to believe-smart enough to see what was a threat before anybody else. You have allowed this man into my home."

Would they had ever known that Valiant was a would-be rapist if his target hadn't been Merlin. Would any other victim had came to him asking for help against their assailant? It was a scary thought, thinking that Valiant was in his kingdom-would have stayed since his father had asked him to at that dinner-and he would probably have spent his nights raping the common folk unnoticed.

It felt like it had happened on his watch, he was right next door for bloody sake! He was going to have to make amends, and fix what he had broken. Starting with Charles.

"Is there anything you would like to say for yourself?" Arthur demanded, grinding his teeth down. It was only right for Charles to be allowed some final words before Arthur was giving out his punishment. Even though Arthur thought this was quite merciful on his part, Charles didn't deserve to try and explain himself.

Charles swallowed hard, before ducking his head into a semblance of a bow, apparently he had enough sense to try and save himself now that there was a sword involved. "I hope that you can forgive me, sire. I can understand how having another man come into your home can be quite startling-"

Apparently Charles didn't get it. Apparently he thought Arthur was just agitated because another Knight had been allowed into what some of the more fanatical people would call it a 'sacred space' because of just how mysterious the royal chambers were. He still didn't get that Arthur was beyond saving at this point, that-be extensive-this meant that Charles was beyond saving. He wasn't going to be leaving this room without feeling the full strength of the crown.

Charles continued to talk as he tried to save his own skin, bowing so deeply that his nose almost hit the floor as he swallowed his own foolish pride. "I'm so sorry for not seeing this would be a problem for you. I apologize one thousand times, sire, and it shan't happen again. I hope that you can forgive this lowly Knight for what transpired. Sir Valiant was just so sad, and he left even more disappointed because of your...consort's... brash actions. If I may be so bold as to make a suggestion, I do believe that this whole situation could be fixed. If we got...Sir Merlin and Sir Valiant together, then surely they can talk it out. We can still savage an alliance to Camelot's royal family from Valiant's family."

And there Charles was, thinking about things like alliances and bloodlines and keeping it all as it should be. Where people used to bend over backwards to make sure that all of the powerful noble families were at their beck and call. Arthur was like that as well, always trying to fit in among his young and noble knights despite being different. He was their prince, and they weren't nearly as high up the chain of command. He was their leader, and was destined to carry on his father's will only when his father decided that it was time for him to stand down. He was their trainer, and was probably more strict than any trainers he had ever had himself. But he was strict only because he cared, wanting to push his future army to be the best they could offer.

Arthur wanted to make alliances, to preserve the bonds his father had already set up for him in his youth, to forge new ones of his own making. But just because those nobles were loyal to the crown now, didn't mean they would follow the same sentiment once it was Arthur that was king. He needed to earn their trust just as his father had before him. But to have Valiant sitting at his table, to have that man so near others he could hurt-nearest to Merlin-well, this was one alliance that Arthur would happily forgo.

Charles didn't seem to realize the big mistake he had just made by bringing Merlin back into the conversation. By insinuating that it was Arthur who should get the victim and his assailant into the same room together. That whatever alliance given to them from Valiant was worth the cost of what-Merlin's virtue when Valiant ultimately tried to take him again? The cost of Arthur's own sense of self after he facilitated the meeting despite knowing what the cause for the dispute was?

Charles was literally trying to throw Merlin under the carriage, so to speak. Arthur got the sense that Charles would literally-even if he knew without a shadow of a doubt what Valiant would do to him if given the chance-throw Merlin down into the viper's nest and leave him to rot. A young boy's virtue would be seen as nothing compared to the soldiers and arms and gold that Valiant may be able to bring to their ranks.

Maybe it was the image in his mind of Merlin stuck in a hole somewhere in the ground, like in a well, only being forced out when men that were much stronger and thicker than he was wanted to use his flesh as their personal plaything was what caused him to act.

There was a glint of metal as his sword was pulled free, and in one swift movement, the prince had his sword pressed up against the throat of Charles. He never considered that he would be put into this position, having to choose between his unwanted consort and a Knight. But at the same time, Charles was the threat that needed to be contained, that the prince-despite his personal feelings for the boy himself-was not going to allow threats like this to run amok in his kingdom. He'd do the same for any other, if they came to him with proof that one of his knights was using his position of power to hurt them. To rape them. To violate them in one of the worse ways a person could be.

Charles mouth went dry as he felt the cold and harsh steel of the unyielding blade as it pressed up just under his Adam's apple. He'd was even unable to swallow, for fear of that sharp tip slicing into his jugular and spilling all of his fresh, red blood all over the prince's boots. Off to the side, Gregory did nothing more than smirk at the scene. It always did amuse him to see people-who thought they were powerful when they most certainly were not-being put into their place so easily.

"Speak carefully." Arthur said slowly, and his eyes looked as if they were better suited to belong on the face of a mutt coming out of the pits of hell, with fire on it's breath and thunder going down its spine. "You should be giving me one reason, and one reason only as to why I should not slit your throat right where you sit."

This was Charles chance, his only chance, to get himself out of the prince's wrath. But the prince was not merciful to men who abused their power, and took it upon themselves to do things that would endanger others. Arthur himself may not be the kindest-maybe even cruel-to those below them, but at least he'd never done anything more than giving them a humble dose of humiliation. Charles overstep that boundary, more that that, he had all but leaped right over it and landed clearly on the other side, and still thought he had done no wrong.

"I-" Charles choked out, but the steel of the blade at his throat made him nervous, unable to get a clear sentence out of him. "I...but Sir Valiant is...Merl-" Arthur's blade pressed just a bit deeper into his neckline. "Sir Merlin," the fallen Knight choked out as he arched his neck back in an attempt to avoid the blade, it just made Arthur press in deeper. "He's...I do not understand sire! I know he's your consort but he is also just a peasant boy! Why should you waste your time on-"

He was cut off by Arthur making a very small but controlled nick on the base of his neck, it was a bead of blood swelling up that caused Charles to snap his mouth close. He trembled as he felt the liquid work it's way in a slow path down the side of his neck, most likely leaving a trail of red in it's wake.

Arthur eyed the spot of blood with an almost disinterested look, which may have proven a hint of sadism being buried under his princely lifestyle. "You are not really helping your case here." The prince said in a bored fashion, as if he couldn't care less one way or the other if the Knight lived or died by his hand.

But that wasn't true at all. Arthur had called Merlin so much worse than 'just a peasant'. It was something he felt as well, Merlin was just a peasant. But he was-in a way-Arthur's odd little peasant. Like a pet, something that was kept but had no real value or meaning to its unfeeling owner. And being that he was now Arthur's peasant boy, it was only Arthur that should call him such. In fact, he should use his sword to cut out Charles tongue and he'd take his time to watch the man choke on his own blood for daring to use Arthur's own words when referring to Merlin.

"Sire, I..." Charles choked out as he felt as if the flesh of his neck was being dug out, but it was because of his own stupidity, he should not have spoken in the first place. Arthur was not looking for an answer to justify decisions Charles had made. He was waiting for that one slip that was going to leave Arthur feeling no guilt after he slit the knight's throat. And it was now more drops of blood, it was almost mockingly a river of blood, start to slide down his neck. When he'd tried to talk, Arthur had not moved his blade at all. It was all Charles that made the steel blade dig a little deeper, forming a thin line right over where his jugular laid. Charles froze, not even attempting to try and swallow, for fear that one wrong mistake on his part would be the cause for the end of his life.

Arthur finally met eye's with the Knight, and Charles was almost taken aback by the warm fire brewing in them, a smoldering pit looking as if he would happily set Charles on fire with just his eyes alone if he could. It was horrifyingly scary, enough so that if he didn't have a sword at his throat, Charles would have gone straight to the king to express his concern that the prince was not well.

"You are not allowed to spew filth with your unworthy tongue." Arthur hissed darkly at the other man. If all Charles was going to do was make petty excuses or fake apologies-he was just trying to save him own skin at that point-it was something Arthur had no patience to listen to. He had a fight to get to, he had another Knight to destroy, he had a...Merlin to...crap, he was going to have to apology for not believing him, wasn't he?

Charles was literally quaking in his boots, his knees pressing with so much force against the ground that they were literally aching as he held himself in a very unbalanced way. He was trying to lean away from the sword, but it wasn't far enough. He'd either fall backwards and his prince would no doubt come straight after him, the sword would probably end up sticking straight out of his lower belly. Or he would fall forward and end up skewing his own self on the blade, doing Arthur's job for him.

Arthur continued to talk, feeling his fingers flex around the handle of the blade, resisting the urge to end this now and shove the blade straight up Charles backside, see how he'd like an unwanted object shoved up his arse as Valiant would do to Merlin, "You've risked the safety of the royal family." Merlin, was the name he didn't outright say. "I hope that you are smart enough to know that you won't be getting off scot free."

If Arthur had his say, he would see this man be hanged for his crimes. He would have him choking on his own entails as he hung from a tree near the courtyard. He would have a very obscene object poking out of the knight's rectum, just as a sign to show others what was going to happen if they posed a threat to what was his.

Because Merlin was his. Rather he'd liked it or not, wanted he wanted him to be or not to be. The fact wasn't going to change rather he treated the boy like the peasant he was or not. Arthur would have no problem locking the boy away, never to be seen or heard from again as he tried to hide his peasant consort from the world. But at the same time, it was only Arthur that was allowed to do that to the boy. Only Arthur who could treat him as he'd liked.

And seeing Charles now sniveling under his blade, he wondered how this man had ever made it through basic training and got into the knight's program. He would have never made it through Arthur's training, if it was him that had been the other knight's trainer. It was the man, crying so much that he looked to be practically breaking down in front of him, with tears running down his cheeks in rivers and snot coming out of his nose to split apart as it hit his lips.

It made Arthur almost feel bad for him. If he didn't also know that the man had done bad enough that he deserved everything that was coming to him, Arthur's hand flexed around his blade as he wondered how much force it would be needed to take someone's head off...

The door suddenly swung open with enough force that it actually had the strength to move Gregory from where he stood in front of it. It was a whirlwind of long and thick skirts that blew into the room, "Arthur! We need to tal-"

Morgana froze in mid-sentence and blinked rapidly as she stared at the scene in front of her. Everybody else froze as well, staring with a dumbstruck expression at the lady that had just made herself known. Morgana blinked so slowly, her eyes darting between everyone in the room.

From Gregory standing slightly behind the door, making no move to stop the intruder from entering. Morgana wasn't really what he would have considered a threat. She looked to Arthur standing in the center of the room and looked as if he was preparing for a rough battle ahead. Her eyes slid down to the blade in his hand, and the way it looked as if he was about to straight up murder the other guy...it was a guy that looked as if he was about to be forced upon death's doorstep.

"...Morgana." Arthur cleared his throat, but he still sounded as gruff as he had when he had been talking to Charles. He found himself gritting his teeth at this unfounded interruption, as Morgana's presence stopped him from killing this swine.

"...Arthur." Morgana said slowly, her hands came together to wring at the front of her skirt. "We need to talk." She repeated herself, as if she hadn't just walked into this awful scene. Her voice that was once harsh and demanding was now soft, confused, and very much uncertain. But the lady did have class and she kept her head up, acting as if this was just an everyday occurrence.

"And it can't wait, Morgana?" Arthur asked as he shifted glances between Charles and Lady Morgana. He was almost eager to punish the other Knight, to try and drill it into his head that risking the royal family was something that he was not going to tolerate. But he also couldn't very well do so in front of Morgana.

Morgana straightened her spine as she shot Arthur a scowl, the kind she would give him if she thought he had done something particularly ugly. "No it cannot, Arthur. I need to have this discussion with you now." And her skirts swirled madly around her ankles as she journeyed further into the room, acting as if there wasn't a man on the floor who was looking as if he was about to face his own execution.

Arthur glared at her with annoyance, knowing that he couldn't leave things be with Charles but he also couldn't get away with killing him in front of Morgana. His father would have his head for offending Morgana's 'delicate lady sensibility'. His father had always doted on her, trying to her out of things that would have no concern to her as much as he was able to. Out of things that were considered a 'man's job. So yes, he supposed that killing a man would fall under those same rules. But Morgana rarely followed what she was supposed to do.

Morgana didn't buckle under the gaze that was spitting fire at her, telling her that she should get out and leave the men to their petty business. She had seen much worse in her years, that a look from Arthur didn't scare or caution her in the least. She just raised her delicate eyebrow at him, and lifted her chin in a case of defiance. Morgana was not going to go anywhere, and there were some things she wanted to discuss with Arthur before he went out on the field. If what Merlin said was true, it would probably be the last time she ever talked to him.

Arthur almost felt as if the molars in the back of his mouth was going to be pushed down into dust from how hard he was grinding his teeth down. Trust Morgana to get in the way and make things inconvenient for him when he needed this inconvenience the least at the moment. Arthur hated to do it, but he had no choice but to admit defeat when he saw that Morgana wasn't budging. And his father most definitely would have his head if he ordered Gregory to forcibly 'escort her' away from the chambers.

Grudgingly, Arthur came to the conclusion that he had no choice but to step away from Charles. It was bad enough that Morgana had seen the small bit she had, like the dribble of blood leaking down Charles throat. Though his father would argue against it, Arthur knew that Morgana was made of stronger stuff and wasn't about to start fainting over the sight of a little bit of blood. Regrettable, he still wasn't able to kill like this in front of her, he thought as he slid his blade back into his scabbard.

It wasn't like this was going to be a proper execution, that was public and in town square where everybody would get to see the man hanged for his crimes. What Arthur had been planning for Charles would probably spill far to much blood, it would've stained the floor no doubt. Morgana shouldn't be involved in violence like that, even if Arthur firmly believed Charles deserved it.

And speaking of Charles, Arthur looked at the Knight in disgust when he saw him practically sobbing in relief, collapsing onto the floor. He may have thought Arthur was considering to castrate him with that reaction, which...may not be a bad idea. But on Valiant, yes. Valiant would be a good person to castrate.

Arthur turned away from the people behind him, hearing Charles sobbing ringing in his ears as he stepped in front of the window. It was crowded down below in the courtyard as people-nobles and commoners alike-started to head towards the stadium. His fight with Valiant was going to start in an hour if he saw the sun's position in the sky right. Good, he thought as he tucked his hands behind his back. Not a moment to soon, he thought as he imagined Valiant was probably gloating, thinking he had gotten away with everything.

Arthur would show him. Arthur would show him that he was nobody's fool, he wasn't going to be tricked like some conman man. He was smarter than that, and very much vengeful at this moment.

And speaking of vengeance, "Charles." His voice cut in over the man's sobbing, thinking that he had just barely gotten away with his life intact. But if he thought Lady Morgana's presence was going to save him, he was very wrong. It may save his life, but Charles was going to wish Arthur had taken his sword to him when he had the chance. He didn't look back as he gave a command to his Knight, "Gregory, take Sir Charles to the dungeons."

Charles jaw dropped in disbelief when he heard this. A Knight in the dungeons? What kind of horse crap was that. The shakiness he had as Arthur's blade was to his throat returned with a vengeance. He could still feel that steel against his throat in a phantom ache as his throat burned where the cut was resting. But now he could almost imagine the phantom touch of iron handcuffs that were being clamped around his wrists, yanking his hands behind his back.

Oh, wait. That wasn't phantom handcuffs, it was real handcuffs. And Gregory was behind him, grabbing him by his shoulder and jerking him to his feet. Charles protested as he started to trash about.

"Sire, you can't!" Charles exclaimed in horror at the thought of being reduced to a mere gutter rat in the dungeons. As if Arthur hadn't just been about to kill him where he stood.

Arthur still didn't look at him, his eyes watching the hustle and bustle of the crowd below him. "Your being sentenced to two months in the lowest ring of the dungeons," it was usually only reserved for the worse of criminals. Those that were murderers and rapists, people who posed an active threat to the common people. It seemed like an apt place to put the man. "When you get out, I'll have you placed back into your basic training courses, and we'll restart your training. This time with me as your teacher."

For a Knight to be sent back to basic training, it may actually be worse than being in the dungeons. Because training was done out on the fields, public to even commoners walking by to watch. Some knights often tried to show off their skills, making dumb mistakes until Arthur squashed that out of them before said mistake got somebody killed. Weapons and using them properly were no joke.

Anyway, Charles reputation was going to end up being trashed once word got around that he had been sent back to basic training. It'd be even so much worse considering Charles age and how many years he had been active in the knight's duties. He was literally going to be placed with 'the babies' as Arthur had taken to calling the fresh faced nobles who traveled to Camelot castle for the opportunity to train under their prince. Not one person was ever able to impress him, they always did show up thinking they would be the first to take him down.

To see Charles standing among them would be quite amusing, on Arthur's part at least. It was also insinuated that Charles would not be permitted to wear the knight's armor. He would be stuck wearing the uniform of the recruits. There would be many questions of how Charles had gotten reduced to the same league as the new recruits.

It wasn't the killing and possibly near mauling that Arthur would have preferred, but seeing the humiliation, to see Charles being brought down to his knees as Arthur gave him the training of a lifetime...it gave him a bit of his own satisfaction. This was at least a close second to what he would have preferred.

"Please!" Charles begged as Gregory started to drag him towards the door. Gregory was much more heavy set and was easily able to contain Charles trashing. "I can make all of this right, sire! Just give me another chance!"

Arthur scoffed at this, still not giving Charles a glance of attention. Another chance to what exactly? Another chance to endanger his own family? Another chance for Charles to risk the safety of 'Camelot's consort?' Just one more chance to bring Valiant straight to Merlin and offer the boy up like a lamb for slaughter. No, Arthur wasn't going to give Charles a chance to do any of this.

"Maybe next time," Arthur drawled out as he watched the way the sun was glinting off the stain glass of the window. "You'll realize that your duty as a Knight, that the safety of this family and Camelot's people, will always come before somebody's 'hurt' feelings."

Because that was all it had amounted to. The now ex-Knight had thought he was doing the kingdom good by giving in to Valiant's whims. He had somehow thought it was his duty to forge allies between the Camelot royal family and the nobles that lived within her boarders. He had acted on Arthur's behalf, acted as if he was trying to 'save the kingdom', as if they wouldn't be able to survive without Valiant's family contribution. As if they hadn't survived for generations before Valiant's name was even heard.

Besides, if any Knight would get their feelings hurt so easily that they would withdraw their family's allegiance to the crown just because Arthur refused to allow them unrestricted and full access to his consort, then he'd be the one to kick them out the castle himself.

Charles let out a guttural cry as he was lifted quite literally off his feet, Gregory's arm now wrapped firmly around his waist, to carry him out of the room.

Just before the door slammed shut, Charles got a glimpse of Arthur turning away from the window to face Lady Morgana as if Charles was no longer a blimp on his radar. And Charles was not a man who took kindly to having his own failures put in front of him like this. The man swore vengeance as Gregory started to cart him still screaming down the stairs and trying to protest this punishment, that he'd get his revenge on Merlin for this. If Merlin had only opened the bloody door for Valiant, then none of this would be happening to him.

Charles wouldn't be disgraced, his honor all but stripped of him as he was being forced to carry out a prison sentence. Someday, some how, Charles was going to make sure that it was Merlin who rotted away in jail.

Back inside the room, Morgana stared at the closed door in shock. And then she turned to look back at Arthur with boggled eyes, "What the bloody hell was that all about?"

She must have been spending time with Merlin, Arthur thought grudgingly as the foul language escaped her lips. And to think, he'd thought he was helping preserve her ladylike delicacies by not murdering Charles.