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!

63. Chapter 63

Not many people had given it much thought before. Everybody had been to strung out by the party-to proudly celebrate their prince's win against that vile Lord Valiant and his two snake pets-that nobody had noticed anything going on with their wayward consort. All was happy that their prince was alive, that even the commoners who hadn't been important enough to attend the actual party was having their own celebrations in the streets. Lots of drinks had been passed around, and dancing for many had gone deep into the night. It was almost enough for the city to completely shut down for the next day or two as most people had massive hangovers and needed recovery time before they could return to their day-to-day activities.

Almost.

After all, servants still needed to get their wages in so that their families could be fed for the week. And nobles still had households -or kingdoms-to run, even if they managed to scrape by with a couple of hours more sleep than they usually would.

But the point is, nobody immediately noticed that their consort hadn't been seen in quite a few days. Actually, it took almost a week just for a curious bystander who worked about in the laundry room to question if anybody had seen him for it to be noticed. After all, Merlin had became the talk of the town: the simple common boy that had been somehow good enough for the King to agree to the union, but who had also done nothing to back it up since the day he married the prince. Who had nothing to prove that he was better than any of the other many commoners that decorated the street.

So what had made him so special, that the King had approved of the marriage? It was a question on everybody's mind, even as they also were caught off guard with the question-where was he? The days had started to pass on by, and a week soon became two and still it was the same old story: nobody had seen hair nor hide of their Consort.

Many people had tried to get past the guard Gregory, who seemed to have taken some kind of personal residence at the foot of the stairs leading to the Royal wing but the man refused to budge. Even for serving girls who insisted their plate had been requested by special order, those girl's who were bolder as well as a touch braver than the rest and just wanted to know if their consort still lived. If only to be the first to tell the news of where he had been all this time. Only Morris, Gwen, and George were allowed past Gregory at any given moment to continue on their duties for their masters and mistress as if nothing was going on.

Many servants had taken to accosting them as to find any bit of juicy news that they'd be able to spread around the kingdom. Morris would huff, angrily slamming his tray about as he gathered the prince's meals, refusing to meet anybody's eyes as he grunted deadly threats that nobody took very seriously at the time, as Morris was being run ragged by the prince for every given thing. More so than he usually would be. But he never gave any clear indication of rather or not Merlin had taken a residence in his room, rather he was still even up there, or if something had happened with their Missing Consort. Gwen would usually be left stuttering something incomprehensible to the ear, and then rush out of the kitchen with excuses about how Lady Morgana wouldn't want her breakfast to go cold.

And then there was George, who had gotten so tight lipped about the subject that nobody bothered to ask him what was going on past that first day.

Then as the third week started to bleed into the fourth, that was when the rumors really started to pick up. Small things at first, like he may have gotten some kind of injury and now was bedridden. Which would most certainly explain away why Gaius had been seen often leaving the Royal wing when the rest of the royals seemed perfectly fine, going on with their day-to-day routines as if nothing in the world was wrong.

Then an entire month had passed and still, no sign of their consort emerging from his room was heard. And trust them, at this point, if he had ventured anywhere outside of the Royal wing then everybody would know. Several of the people who worked in the castle could be considered on 'high alert' for him so that they could demand answers on what he had been doing for the past month. So the rumors had started to get a bit...spicier...in nature as the calm peace that seemed to envelop the walls of the castle gave way to boredom. Things of a much bigger nature that they would only be heard about in whispers and in safe spaces away from more noble ears.

Like in the laundry rooms.

Or the kitchens.

Or the stables.

Places that most nobles wouldn't be caught around, lest it look as if they were doing what was considered 'peasant work'.

Some of these rumors claimed that their very own prince was probably keeping him locked in his bedchambers as a sex slave. That their consort couldn't possibly come out to play as he was busy keeping Arthur occupied. There was talks of how Consort Merlin was earning his keep by spreading his legs nightly for his husband, as it was clear he probably couldn't do much else of any worth. Some had even considered that was Merlin's punishment for his embarrassing display among the council meeting, and the only way to earn Arthur's forgiveness was to allow the nightly ritual of intercourse. And the rumor would grow quite exaggerated when somebody would make it a point to note that the two never got to have a proper honeymoon. They had been married and then things had gone on as normal. So it only made sense that Arthur would keep his husband away from people and enjoy all the delicacies of his young flesh to himself.

But it was also disproved as Arthur was seen pretty much daily, and usually in the fields to either practice training or to train the newbies who would show up every now and then with dreams of joining the Royal army. Or he was off with a hunting party, disappearing into the woods for hours with his men with hopes of bringing back large game for the kitchen to prepare for dinner. The prince never did look as if he was staying up late, enjoying what a feast it would be with a young teenage boy in his bed to keep him well satisfied. Nor did he ever look as if he was caught in the bliss of enjoying an exciting turn about in the sheets of his bed.

Some said this meant Merlin mustn't be that good of a lover. Others said that it probably meant the rumor wasn't real at all.

The more realistic rumor that would often be found hand in hand with the first was Arthur being tired of all the fuck-up's Merlin would do. From things like fighting and throwing out punches in the middle of town square. To the council meeting in front of half the nobles to live within the inner city limits. To be showing such high emotions when he had ran away at the dance-or so that was spread by the small handful of people who witnessed it although many were unsure if this was true or not. The rumor went that Arthur-tired of Merlin being a constant failure in the eyes of everybody else, and ruining his reputation as everything the boy did reflected onto Arthur himself, had decided to lock the boy away in the tower.

Some said it must be his room that Arthur had locked him up in, the suite that housed the prince's consort. Because Arthur wanted to keep him close just to keep an eye on him lest he do something else that would reflect badly on the crown. Others said that Arthur would have clearly gotten bored of looking at him by this point-as many would feel some kind of need to point out how Arthur had not once had such a long term public relationship before his marriage. So that must have meant Arthur had picked one of the many towers in the castle that went unused for daily needs to stick him in. And that would be where he'd be staying until their Consort could learn to do things the proper way.

But then the first month had passed them by, and time was just starting to bleed out into a second month. Because time stopped for no man, not even for their missing consort. And as the saying goes, life goes on. The rumors would start to slow down until you became accustomed to only hearing a brief mention of their consort from somebody who just could not let it go. Occasionally, a completely new rumor would make it's appearance-one that was even more outlandish than the dozens or so that had been told already-and the frenzy would start up all over again. But only for just a day or two before it would die out and all of the people would continue on with their daily lives.

Merlin became just a fun topic to talk about or whisper conspiracies over with to friends to pass the time quicker as they would do the chores. Nobody thought to wonder over the boy's well being, nor did they care. He wasn't important enough for anybody to inquire over rather or not the boy had inessential became a prisoner inside of his own home. As it was clear, as day after day past, the boy was no longer allowed to leave on his own free will. It must be why Gregory had practically taken up a place at the foot of the stairs-for it was a rare thing indeed when the Knight wouldn't be there, making sure Merlin never left from the hallway.

Things had started to go back to the way things were before Merlin had ever entered the kingdom. Things had gone back towards the days where King Uther, Prince Arthur, as well as Lady Morgana were the only royals to be concerned about. And Consort Merlin had became nothing more than an afterthought, if he was even mentioned at all...

X

Contrary to the popular notion, Merlin hadn't been chained by his wrists to the headboard of Arthur's bed. Nor was he earning his keep, or paying for his sins of humiliating Arthur on the daily by spreading his legs so their Prince Arthur could have his fun in-between those milky thighs. Rather or not Merlin would give his consent to such a thing was irrelevant, as anybody's only concern would be what their prince wanted. As the prince was to busy and being distracted by the lovely consort-who's only purpose would be for the prince's discretion and pleasure-meant that Arthur wasn't off bullying the servants again. But it had not come to that for sweet Merlin.

And alas, Merlin was also not locked away in his room or in some random tower the castle held to keep him away from the more decent population. Nor was he being forced to watch as life passed him by, staring out his window to try and catch what little he could from his high view. Anything to forgot the boredom it came with, being locked in one room for day after day, wondering if you would ever feel the sun on your skin again. Or if you would ever walk amongst the people as if he was one of them again, like he had been before he had married the prince. Or if their consort Merlin would ever be able to make his own choices without the consent and knowledge of Arthur, as the only one-other than Consort Merlin's personal manservant George-who'd be allowed inside the boy's 'room'. Or cell as it should more than likely be called.

In fact, in one needed to know, Arthur hadn't seen much-if any-of his consort since that night of the dance. He had all but suddenly disappeared from the public's eye, and would have had guards seeking him out for fear he had gotten kidnapped if George wasn't still bringing the boy his meals.

Merlin Pendragon, husband to the Prince of Camelot who was next in line to take over the kingdom's golden throne, sat on the edge of his bed in his Royal suite. The soft teal color of the sheets-meant to soothe the eyes, and not meant to cause intense emotions-would do absolutely nothing to stop Merlin's great agitation for any and all days.

The Consort had his hands curled around the edge of the bed, bunching of his bedsheets in his fists. Not that he bothered to notice or to care rather or not it would wrinkle or even damage the bedcovers. It was far to thick to rip through anyway, especially by accident. It didn't matter though, nothing really did much to Merlin nowadays anyway.

Merlin looked at the piece of parchment he'd had-held down by small weights so the round paper wouldn't close in on itself-open on his desk. He had requested a few things for his manservant-for George-to get him so that he wouldn't be so bored. It was mostly the spare bit of parchment for him to jot things on if he would get bored of studying his magic book in the privacy of his rooms. Studying his book was pretty much the only thing he could do with his time, something productive that had made him feel like he wasn't just completely wasting away in here.

That particular piece of parchment on top of his desk-mixed in with dozens of other ripped up pieces that had been balled up that he no longer wanted and planned on throwing away as it cluttered up the surface of his beautiful pristine looking royal desk. He had taken to using this particular piece of paper as a sort of calendar. Something he could keep track of the days with so that it wasn't just some kind of endless cycle of absolutely nothing. It at least made Merlin feel somewhat human, instead of acting as if his only existence was sorely to this room he'd taken shelter in.

Today marked the day Merlin had been in Camelot for two months. It was hard for him to imagine that so little time had passed him by. Just two months ago, he had been trying to help Old Man Jenkins plow the fields with his horse-who was clearly on his last legs as he looked prepared to kneel over even on a good day. That old man had never liked him much anyway...but just two months ago, he had been fetching water from the stream that ran past his village and carrying the pail back to his mother's hut. So that they were able to split it up, and use half of it for washing and the other half for cooking. Just those simple two months ago, he had been hiding away in the woods with Will-having snuck away from their duties for an hour or two at most while knowing they were gonna be caught, since it was hard not to be noticed when every hand counted in such a small village if they wanted the harvest to be prepared properly-and he would show his longtime friend what he had figured out how to do with his magic.

But even though it was hard to imagine that his life was completely normal just those two months ago, it also felt as if it was a lifetime ago. He was weary now, a tiredness deep in his bones that made him feel like an old man instead of his modest nineteen years. Now he had his life filled with other things. He didn't get to pass the time to his ruthless existence by helping some of the girl's get eggs out of the tiny henhouse for them to distribute out to the people of Ealdor. Now he had to learn how to speak with diction-as Morgana had been trying to teach him whenever she could spare a few moments to visit him. He thought it was a load of hogwash-as he saw nothing wrong with the way he talked. But Morgana insisted on giving him a few Royal lessons so he would hopefully be better prepared for the next time something happened, and Merlin as much as he hated it, agreed with it only because it was something else to pass the days by with.

Nowadays, he didn't bathe with a simple pail and a dingy washcloth to clean himself. Well, he did but George often expressed that he'd been displeased by this request. Merlin had wanted to get it himself, but...he didn't like to leave his room much nowadays. So George had been gracious enough to go gather the water for him when it was clear Merlin wasn't going to change his mind. The manservant had wanted to bring Merlin the porcelain tub he had used to prepare himself in the day he was getting married. So that his consort was able to have a proper soak, and relax his tired muscles in the heat. Merlin always shot back that he didn't have any tired muscles, not as he very rarely left the Royal wing.

But two months of this...an entire month and a half had passed since the dance. And that realization was what made Merlin realize that he couldn't spend his entire existence locked away, by his own free choice as nobody else had made him hide away like he had.

Because a month and a half...clearly that was a bit of an overkill to mourn for your very first heartbreak? But then again, how did he know how long it would take for a heart to heal as a careless man had literally stomped all over it and then threw it in the trash. But if he would want to be fair, he hadn't been hiding inside his rooms for over a month just for one single heartbreak.

After all, he had already decided within the first few days that Arthur wasn't worth the pain he came with. He had only known the guy for like two weeks when his crush first came around, and then he was left broken barely a few days later...he hadn't been as emotionally invested in Arthur as much as he had thought. He liked to think-even though it still caused a flush of embarrassment to heat up his cheeks when he remembered fleeing the dance-that he had all but gotten over the prince the first day or two he had been hiding away. As it had only been a crush-infused by him wanting to be happy and trying to make things work out-so it wasn't like he'd been in love with the guy or something.

No. Arthur didn't deserve the kind of emotion or devotion from him. He didn't even deserve to have Merlin crushing on him. And as it was very easy to do so when he had nothing but his thought to entertain himself with for hours on end, he thought about the other stuff that Arthur had done to him. Like all of the insults and rudeness-calling him things like a 'dirty peasant boy'. Only having him around when it was 'convenient' for Arthur and complaining if Merlin dared to show up on his own accord.

It was bloody ridiculous, and just thinking of it all made him even more tired than he already was. That was not the way Merlin wanted the so called 'relationship' to be like, and he most definitely did not want to pretend as it was all lollipops and gumdrops. Arthur wanted to be a bloody room first. And while Arthur wasn't the reason he'd taken to hiding within these four walls, he did have an actual reason for not leaving. But he didn't want to think about that right now. Just thinking about Arthur was enough to suck all of the life out of him. Thinking about all of his other problems made him want to dive out of his six story window where his only hope was that the ground wasn't as hard as it looked.

Merlin could admit that yes, he had stayed in his room for those first few days because of his 'husband'. Well, he had stayed in his room at his uncle's as he was having a desperately good cry to get it all out of his system. But as the hurt of his first heartbreak had started to ease away, he had stayed there for just a few days longer because of the embarrassment. He could not believe how he had been behaving to Arthur. He had given that man a favor, for crying out loud! A favor he had lost only a day afterwards! God, how could he have been so stupid? That right there should have been the giant neon sign he needed that no, the prince had never hid his feelings on what he thought about Merlin

Merlin may had even respected that, if Arthur hadn't been directing all of his horrible and awful misplaced aggression towards him. As it wasn't like Merlin had made the decision to marry Arthur. As much as he hated to admit it, the Pendragon family held more power and could do whatever they wanted. His magical ability would be no help to him here within a world of politics and pressures he was never suppose to feel if he had just stuck to his old life.

Merlin huffed, staring down at his bare feet barely touching the stone floor from where he sat on the bed. He still had to put on his shoes, he thought vaguely, and knowing that his boots had been shoved under his bed at some point during his stay inside of these chambers. He hadn't even wanted to be here in the first place, but had ultimately decided that he didn't want to wear out the hospitality of his uncle. And decided it was best to leave on his own before his uncle had the chance to kick him out himself.

Merlin bit down on his bottom lip, feeling his fists curling up tighter as he remembered the things that had happened when he had been leaving his uncle's chambers. It had been the early morning so not many people were out, and Merlin had run into a handful of guards. Let's just say...Merlin had been met with near hostility everywhere he'd gone, so surprising and shocking compared to when he'd been able to move among the castle unnoticed but it seemed as if those days had came to quite the end. Most of the people he had ran past seemed to recognize him on sight, and they clearly hadn't liked him in the least.

His only safe place to go had been towards his suite. And he had stayed put ever since then. Well, not to say he hadn't left his room since then. He had tried to leave plenty of times, at least every other day he would try to take a walk downstairs. All he had wanted to do was move on with his life, find something to occupy his time that didn't include Arthur in the least. But he had always been forced to return much sooner than he liked, and it was often before he could even make it down to the village. It was kind of hard to enjoy what time he could get, when it became obviously clear to him that everyone hated him.

And not even because he was a 'commoner' boy this time. But mainly because people just saw him and decided...he couldn't hack it as one of the royal's. So he had made this teeny tiny mistake with the council meeting, he had spoken out of turn-which he would do again because of the principle of the matter, even if it was one of the biggest things that many of the people he'd ran across had used it as fuel to light the fire against him-but he'd thought he had fixed everything by having risked his own personal safety by using magic to save Arthur's life. If he had been caught...he didn't want to go through the consequences. So of course, nobody knew Merlin was actually the one that saved Arthur's life.

He really hoped that wasn't going to become some kind of crazy pattern. If he would even live long enough to save Arthur's life again as his messed up life would, no doubt be taking him in whatever direction it wanted to. Even if he didn't want to go there himself.

But today was a new day, Merlin thought with a flash of renewed determination. He shook his head and slid off the bed, falling down to his knees beside it before flipping up the bed skirts to get a look under. His eyes lit up only when he caught sight of his boots flopped on their sides uselessly stuffed under the bed.

"There you are." Merlin said to himself, nearly climbing all the way under the bed so that he could reach his boots. How'd they gotten so far under, he would never know for the life of him.

But anyway, Merlin thought as he snatched up one of his boots and tossed it out from under the bed, he didn't care what anybody thought of him. Or what the guards may say if any of the meaner ones caught him out by himself. He was starting to go stir-crazy, and he wasn't going to let a bunch of those ego- maniacs keep him from living his life.

Enough was enough, went off like a mantra in Merlin's mind as he shoved his other boot out from under the bed. He was completely over this whole 'hiding away' thing he had taken to doing. Anything to avoid Arthur, or those men who ran around in their armor and somehow thought that meant they were better than the 'little people'.

Merlin grunted as he hit the back of his head on the bottom of his bed frame after he had wormed his way out from underneath it. The boy reached up and rubbed at the back of his head with a wince, now kneeling down beside his bed. The warmth of the sunlight that was streaming in through his window caught onto his attention, pulling his thoughts away from the dull throbbing on the back of his head.

He knew if he looked out that window, then he would see the same thing he saw every other time he had looked out there. People walking about, carrying on with their daily lives, completely unaware of the voyeur that had taken residence high above them. It was enough to make him feel as if he was stuck in a story he didn't want to be in-as if he'd been trapped inside the tower as if he was some kind of storybook Princess. The one whose only goal in life was to stare longingly out of her tower window, and wait in vain for the day her prince would arrive and save her from her bleak existence.

Merlin jerked his gaze away from the window and shook his head in disgust before he then threw himself back to sit on the corner edge of his bed. He was not a fucking Princess, nor was he going to sit around here letting those false hopes fill him up again. Arthur-as far as he knew as he hadn't actually seen him since the night of the dance, despite them literally being neighbors-hadn't even noticed he was gone.

Merlin bent down at the waist and started to jerk his boots on, ready to leave this terrible room before. It was time for this 'Princess' to break free of her chains and fly on her own without a man to hold her captive. It was time for Merlin-despite the growing abuse he had been facing every time he had wondered to far away from the Royal chambers-to find a better life for himself.

It was time for him to save himself from his own bleak existence, to stop wallowing in his misery over things that were far out of his control. Or you know, to at least take the first step and get some fresh air on his face. Fresh air that didn't come directly from his window after he propped it open whenever it would get to stuffy.

Merlin's head snapped up, a zing of surprise and panic shooting down his spine when his door opened after a quick hastily done knock to the wood frame. Although really, he should not be surprised. George had became some kind of constant, and the one person he had the most contact with since he'd imposed his self-isolation.

"Consort Merlin!" George started in his usual drawled and professional tone, carrying with him a large silver serving tray. He was coming with Merlin's breakfast, and even though the tray was covered with a rounded silver lid to keep the heat in, Merlin knew what he would find whenever the lid was taken off: far much more food than Merlin could ever eat in one sitting. George took his duties seriously, and would not even hear of Merlin's protests that he didn't need so much. "I have brought you your breakfast, and if you don't mind, I would find it an honor if you would allow me to clean your bedsheets. It's been an entire three days since the last time I did the-"

George stopped, already putting the dish on Merlin's desk amongst all of the clutter. The clutter that wasn't there before last night, as George was meticulous about keeping a nice and clean workspace. Even if Merlin doodling couldn't exactly be considered 'work'. But he now had George staring at him with this kind of astonished expression.

"Consort Merlin! You're preparing yourself to leave?" And George, even as astonished as his wide eyed stare was, Merlin was still able to hear the disappointment in his voice. His manservant never did quite get over that he didn't need help getting dressed. "Have you decided to leave? Perhaps for a walk in the marketplace?"

Merlin winced-still bent over and pushing his foot into his own boot as it hit him, how much embarrassment he was feeling. He couldn't have been that bad, had he? But just from the look George was given him, it was obvious he must have been much worse than he'd been thinking. Hiding away in here like some kind of sniveling coward as he had all but allowed some schoolyard bullies to dictate where he should go and what he should do. This hiding thing wasn't him, even if this suite-that he did not even like due to it's extravagance, due to the reminder that this was his life now-felt as if it was the only place he could find himself some bloody peace.

But after what had happened with Arthur, he had been feeling more vulnerable and open-as if his chest had been cut straight open and everybody could see his beaten and bruised beating heart. So he'd retreated.

At least in here, it was a place:

Where he wasn't shoved around so that he'd be 'kept in his place'.

Where he wasn't talked over, or his country accent mocked as if the way he talked was something to be made fun of. There was a reason he had been so against Morgana who gave him his 'lessons' when she would come to visit him. But she focused less on 'how' he said things, and more on 'what' to say when faced with a political situation. He didn't see what help it would give him as nobody would be interested in what he had to say, but it had at least past the time by.

Well no more of this ridiculous behavior. It was time he did something with himself, and damn anybody who thought they could throw him somewhere and lock the door. Even if the 'door' was his own misery.

Merlin pushed himself off the bed, "I think a walk in the marketplace is exactly what I do need." He decided. He hadn't known what he would do, hadn't planned that far ahead. But George's suggestion wasn't a half-bad idea. It would at least show people that he wasn't going to be coward into hiding behind closed doors and away from the general public. Not anymore at least, as his skin had grown quite thicker over the course of the last few weeks. Whatever they wanted to say about him, they could say it to his face and watch as he didn't back down.

George brightened up, looking ridiculously pleased that Merlin was finally going to leave his self-imposed isolated. "That's an excellent choice, Consort Merlin! The weather is quite warm today, would you like me to gather you a sun umbrella to keep the heat off of you?"

Merlin's eye twitched because there it was, George took his duties as a manservant far to seriously. And that wasn't a bad thing...if he'd been working for anybody else. But it would be times like this that Merlin didn't need this servant he didn't even want. It was times like this where he just wanted a friend. George's whole personality seemed to be his servitude and never broke from his role as manservant.

"I don't think that will be necessary." Merlin said dryly. He was used to sweating under the hot summer sun, so blistering that one could almost pass out just by walking straight out your front door. A simple walk around the market place wasn't going to do him in.

Luckily, George-who was growing more and more bold with his different jokes on cleaning products-wasn't the only one that would visit him during all this time. There was of course, Morgana who would stop by to have a lunch with him every day-spending it split between the 'lessons' she insisted on giving him, and gossiping about what's going on among the castle. There was Gwen, who would take to sitting on his floor-with her skirts spread out around her in the late afternoon-working with folding her lady's laundry as they talked. He'd made that mistake where he tried to help her again, and she was just not having it. Nobody would want to get him started on her reaction towards him trying to...how was he supposed to know he was holding Lady Morgana's... delicate, clothing! It wasn't like he knew what these fancy noble ladies wore underneath the thick folds of their dresses!

Anyway, after that embarrassment, Gwen had taken to talking to him. Pretty much anything and everything just to evade the quiet of the room. He usually liked it when Gwen was the one to visit him the most, because she never asked him why he stayed in his room all the time nowadays. Never pressed for answers or demanded questions to things he didn't want to talk about. She was just there, a solid sort of support that he could lean on if he needed to, but didn't make him feel as if he had to be the one contributing.

The two girl's strayed from trying to force him out from his room, figuring he must just need some time to process his feelings, to mourn properly over his failed relationship. And that may have been a good thing those first few days, he had really needed the space all to himself back then. But...he did often wonder if they thought that was still the reason he'd stayed put for so long? He hoped not. He did not think his pride could take the hit, having people think he hid in his room for over one month because of a rejected crush he had for all but a week.

Gaius would always start off his visits by trying to ask him what had happened, why he had came to him that night after the dance as Merlin never did tell him. But Merlin had been firm on how he didn't want to talk about it, as he had decided he could take care of things himself. It was clear he couldn't because he'd spent over a month locked away in his room but hey, he was doing his best here. At least Gaius had taken to leaving him one of his old medical texts behind, so that Merlin would be reading something other than just his magical book for some variety.

"Well, maybe a picnic?" George suggested as he went to work on Merlin's breakfast, pulling the lid off to reveal an abundance of different foods-like fluffy eggs, thick toast, and crispy bacon-still steaming hot even after he carried it here from the kitchens. "I could put a lunch together and eat out on the fields? I do know you had fun doing the tourney, maybe you'd like to have lunch while watching the prince training the new recruits for the Royal army?"

Merlin winced at thought of doing that. He knew it wasn't George's fault, the manservant was only going off what he had seen. And he had been having fun during the tourney, well he had before everything had gone to hell in a hand basket.

"I think I'll just have a...short walk to check out the markets." Merlin corrected. He wasn't going to sit in the grass and act as if he was a doting husband. Arthur had been the reason for his first heartbreak-he still wasn't happy at all, but at least this past month had given his bruised heart a chance to start mending itself-but how had it came to this? How had Merlin allowed Arthur-as well as all of those other arses who took their pleasure out by tormenting him when they could-to all but turn him into some kind of hermit? He was hardly the first person in the world to have a bunch of bullies-even if it seemed to be an entire kingdom full-and he was hardly the first in history to have their first crush to not be recuperated.

At least he hadn't been in love with Arthur, it would have been so much worse if he had been. But then again, Arthur wasn't really a person somebody could love. Not with all of the bullshit he started.

"Of course, Sir!" George said brightly, as he clapped his hands together. His professional mask seemed to break, because he almost looked more excited by the prospect of his consort leaving his room more than Merlin did himself. Merlin still tried to brave a smile, because even though he was excited to leave this place as well-more like he had something to prove to himself, to show the town and the people who would tell him to get lost, that he wasn't broken by their unjust actions-but that didn't change the nerves either. He wanted to get his life back together, and he was in firm belief that this was only the first step for him to get back to where he came from: back to his roots.

Before he became this consort that the entire city hated. Back when he was just a simple farmer and his only concern was if he would get anything to eat that day.

"But are you sure that you don't want me to gather the sun umbrella?" George continued to pester him about it. "It's been quite some time since we've gone outside, and I wouldn't want you to exhaust yourself." And he talked as if Merlin had been gravely ill, on his death bed and just hadn't been well enough for any kind of trip outside.

Merlin seemed to think on it for a minute, as he wore a brief look of displeasure before his expression smoothed over, "You know, it may be a good idea. Alright, I'll use one of the sun umbrella's." Although just the idea of one was such a ridiculous notion to him. He had never once heard of such a thing until George had first suggested it to him weeks ago. He had thought umbrella's was something anybody would use when it was raining-although the nobles had fancier ones made out of a thick cloth and a pole when all Merlin had known was a piece of board with a hole cut into the middle for a thick stick to be lodged through to keep the rain off your head, if you'd even bothered to make one at all. But nobles man, they had even created an umbrella so they'd could hide from the literal sun.

Rich people...

"Excellent, Consort Merlin!" George blurted out with as much professional enthusiasm as he could manage. "I will go see about getting one from Madame Teresa. The Royal dresser always has dozens of them laid about for us to offer for visiting nobles. I'm sure she'll be quite pleased to give you one for yourself."

Merlin smiled, as if he couldn't be happier to have his very own sun umbrella. And then the manservant was gone, leaving the chambers with a hop in his skip, ever so pleased for his consort to be getting back out in the world.

George had barely closed the door behind him with a solid click before Merlin started to act. The former commoner practically dove across the room to snatch up his jacket from where he had tossed it yesterday over the back of his desk chair, jerking it quickly onto his shoulders with rough movements.

Merlin only allowed himself to wait a minute more, to give George time to leave the hall so that he wouldn't see Merlin making his grand escape. Even though-in these last few weeks especially-he had gotten used to George and being in his space, there was only so much of him he could take. The endless amount of his jokes-and they usually always had something to do with some kind of cleaning product-and he had taken to cleaning his room so often that Merlin could have sworn that the bleach used had started to soak into the air. Opening his windows to try and air out the smell didn't help much either. Merlin didn't think that he'd be able to last for much longer, driven almost to the point of insanity. He just knew that he'd snap if he had George trying to follow him as he went about his business around the lower town.

Merlin peeked his head out the room just to make sure George wouldn't follow him. And when the close was clear, Merlin stepped out and started closing the door behind him. But then he stopped and hurried back inside of his room. When he emerged back, he had a few sticks of bacon in one hand and a piece of triangle shaped toast. He knew better than to leave a meal to go untouched. And he'd be hoping that George left the tray alone, so the eggs would be something good for lunch.

Now hopefully he could spend more than an hour outside his room because he wouldn't be going back for the rest of the day if he had anything to say about it...

X

Unfortunately, there is this saying that: when you make plans, God laughs. And that proved true not even ten minutes after Merlin'd left his room. He'd gone down the stairs and said a brief goodbye to Gregory as he passed by.

A few hallways down and it started. Merlin cried out in surprise, nearly chocking on the last bite of his toast when the harsh shove hit him from behind. He got slammed straight to the wall, and an intense shot of pain shooting through his shoulder. But he just gritted down his teeth, even as he brought up a hand and grabbed at his shoulder to rub out the pain.

"Little bitch." The random Knight coughed under his breath, but it was pretty clear that he meant for Merlin to hear it. If the scornful laugh he let loose not seconds later was any kind of conformation. He didn't stop by long enough for Merlin to do anything, and he was already striding away by the time he'd gotten to pick himself up off the ground.

Merlin scowled in his direction as the Knight disappeared around the corner, still rubbing at his shoulder. "What a jerk." He muttered to himself, but he didn't go after the Knight and he didn't fight back. This was something that seemed to happen to him every time he had dared to leave his room, an adversary that he never saw coming no matter how many times he would get thrown to the ground. He'd tried to fight back the first few times, and had got his arse handed to him each time. It wasn't so bad that he couldn't deal with it. It left nothing more than a few purpling bruises as well as a bruised ego.

The name calling also wasn't anything that was new. 'Little bitch' was considerably less rude than what he was usually called. Things like 'gold digger' or 'unwanted' was the more common ones. Also phrases like 'go back to where you came from.' Or 'can't you just get the message and get lost already.' And what was his personal favorite, 'I can't believe you are still walking free after the stunt you pulled on Arthur.' Because even as the weeks would pass by, he still couldn't escape his mistake in front of the council. And people seemed to like believing that Arthur was some kind of victim.

Merlin didn't even want to look up when he heard a stream of footsteps walking behind him, already knowing he wasn't going to be liking any other interaction today. And sure enough, a second Knight had caught sight of him and couldn't stop himself from making another remark to him.

"Well, well, well." Knight Bryon said when he stopped at Merlin's side, the consort leaning against the wall still to hold his balance from the earlier shove. "Look who finally decided to join the land of the living."

It made Merlin want to return to his room and pretend like he hadn't bothered coming out again. These small interactions hadn't exactly been the worse things that had happened to him, but there was only so much he would be able to take. Especially as things would tend to get much worse the longer the day would go on by.

Merlin sighed heavily, wishing that his bangs were long enough to fall into his face, "And look at who can't walk by someone without being a dick." He shot back. Because if any of this was ever going to work, he couldn't just retreat back to him room every time anybody tried to start some kind of crap with him. Just a few mild words and shoves didn't mean he wasn't strong enough to handle them.

He had almost been expecting some kind of punch to the face in response. That would be the usual thing to happen for snapping back at a Knight, or some self righteous speech as they got way to close-poking him with harsh precision in his chest and forcing his smaller body to back up-until they seemed satisfied that they had gotten their message across to him. About how he needed to learn just how to curb his tongue, and since it was clear that Arthur didn't care for him-if the public dance was anything to go by-then they would have to remind him what his place was if he'd ever tried to humiliate Arthur again.

Bryon-who had realized that he was probably the first out of his friend group to actually see Merlin since his conversation with his friends at the bar almost a week ago-didn't react an a negative way like Merlin had been assuming he would. Instead, the Knight laughed, but it was a mocking kind of laugh meant to try and dig it's way under Merlin's skin. Which would be successful, if that was Bryon's goal, "Now, now, Merlin. Don't go getting to big for your britches, you hear me? We wouldn't want the prince to hear about how you go about and mistreat his knights in his absence."

He made it sound as if Merlin was a child and Arthur was his guardian. Or as if he thought Merlin wasn't smart enough to figure out that Bryon meant to go tattling to Arthur with this bunch of newest lies. It almost made Merlin's eye's boggled in disbelief, unable to contain his own mouth when he said, "I...spend my time...mistreating you lot?"

Maybe not Bryon specifically, as Merlin was pretty sure this was the first time he'd been interacting with this particular Knight. But to think Merlin mistreated anybody, especially as it was Merlin that had an array of bruises going down his spine. A reminder of the last time he had tried to leave his room just a few days ago and had gotten shoved around so many times, that it was ridiculous how fast he had retreated to his room so that he could go assess the damage. Luckily it hadn't been more than a few bruises, unlike the first time when he had returned to his room with such a nasty cut on his hairline. That had been fun to explain to Gaius who'd visited just later on that day.

A little white lie about how he had tripped and hit the side of his head on the corner of his desk.

Bryon rammed his shoulder into Merlin's and he felt another spike of pain because of the harsh metal against his other shoulder, and his jacket was absolutely no protection from it. "Get over yourself, Merlin." Bryon called to him over his shoulder, as he started to walk away, apparently deciding that Merlin wasn't worth his time. "The prince isn't one to take his knights not being listened to. So maybe you should just do what you do best, and go hide yourself away whenever you've been stashed at, 'commoner.'"

And then he was gone, disappearing around the corner just like the first Knight had. Merlin gritted his teeth again, resisting the insane urge to chase after him and demand some kind of respect. Or at least some kind of plain human decency. The way he had called him a commoner-even though it was exactly what he identified as despite his Royal title-made it sound as if Merlin was less than. Clearly, the Knight was trying to make Merlin ashamed by his roots. As if there was something wrong to be born common instead of noble.

Well, the joke was on him because all that did was make Merlin more and more determined to strike off on his own. Bryon could run off to Arthur if he wanted to-if he hadn't just been talking out of his arse to get a reaction out of him-because Merlin didn't care anymore. The prince didn't care about him, so Merlin didn't care.

Merlin brushed himself off from the dust that coated his clothes after he had been pushed to the ground the first time, while he ignored the aches in both of his shoulders. Those so called knights-who were suppose to serve as well as protect the people, not bulling people they thought couldn't fight back-could shove and push him down all they wanted. And they could trip him at the bottom of the stairs, as if he was nothing more than a doormat meant for their own amusement. They could go and steal his stuff-like the few times he had tried to bring some herbs he had gotten his hands on-and destroy it right in front of him before he got the chance to bring it to Gaius to see if they were good enough for his potions. None of it mattered because Merlin could survive the outright hatred.

And if it got to become too much for him, well he could always just use his magic to defend himself. But only when he got desperate, so he could escape the abuse via the flickering flames after he was arrested, Merlin thought with a dark sense of humor. At least he had one way to escape this abuse...

Merlin shook his head and left towards the marketplace, refusing to bow down to the knights who thought just showing his face was a disgrace. And he ignored the rush of shame that went through his body, refusing to admit there was anything wrong. Refusing to admit to anybody that he was suffering all of this in silence. He could handle it, just like he had handled everything else that he had been dealing with since the day he rode into Camelot.

X

Down in the marketplace, it was as if Merlin could feel every eye on him the second he'd started down the path. He had been hoping that he could just slip in unnoticed as all the stalls were being filled up with shoppers. But he should have known that wouldn't happen, as eye's had literally been drawn to him when he arrived.

Merlin bit down on his lip and kept walking down the path of commoners, some moving out of their way to clear the path for him. He was suppose to be comfortable down here in the lower town. It was still far more elaborate than what they had in Ealdor, but at least he was surrounded by other commoners instead of nobles around every turn. But no, even the commoners seemed to have a problem with him.

"There he is." Merlin heard a young serving girl whispering to her friend when he passed them by. "I thought the prince had sent him away." Merlin hunched his shoulders because of course the knights weren't the only people to notice his sudden absence.

"I would have if he was my husband." the second girl said with a giggle before they ran off. But Merlin didn't bother saying anything about it, the two girl's couldn't have looked to be older than twelve. He saw no point trying to make a scene against two kids.

The commoners were almost worse than the knights themselves. The knights may shove him about, may look down their noses at him as if he was something vile and deserved to be dissected. But the commoners acted as if they didn't know what to think. He'd noticed how some seemed to outright avoid him, and often ducked their heads as they hurried past him. It was as if they thought they would face abuse as well just by associating with him. He was always left with a wide berth, one would have thought he was contagious. And for all he knew, there was a new rumor that said his incompetence would rub off on them if any dared to speak to him for to long. Or maybe they thought they would invoke Arthur's own wrath onto themselves.

And those were the quieter of the servants so that didn't take into account on the bolder.

Merlin put on a brave face, sticking his hands deep into his pockets and continuing his walk down the market street. The bullying started pretty simple enough, so simple that he'd not realized what was going on at first. Whispers everywhere he went, nobles and commoners talking behind his back and then going quiet suspiciously when they saw him coming. But then the looks came, and people flashed him these smirks. Or they would start giggling as they fled, leaving Merlin baffled and trying to figure out what was going on. But whenever he would approach a commoner to find out what was so funny, they would just say it was not something he needed to concern himself with, Consort Merlin.

But the grins always made him feel like he was the butt of some kind of joke. And that everybody was laughing at him. And don't even get him started when he had tried to ask some of the knights what was going on.

Nobody had bothered to look at him, talking with their comrades as if he wasn't trying to talk to them himself. Placing their backs in his direction and ignoring his very presence. But that was almost preferable compared to what they did now. The knights had started acting with gentle brushes against his shoulder, like they were ramming him out their way. He had thought it was an accident at first, until it had happened more and more. And he supposed since nobody had bothered to stop them the first few times, they'd gotten more and more bold.

Then the days had started to pass and the bolder ones got more courageous, and this meant everybody else followed their lead.

The servants had stopped hiding behind the false sincerities, and had started to outright point at him. Not bothering to lower down the voices as they talked about him, laughing at him as they giggled about how 'disgraceful' he was to the kingdom. But not even growing bold enough to mock him to his face, had any of the servants been brave enough to touch him.

It would have been assault against the Royal family.

But the knights clearly didn't see this in the same way as their cockiness had grown. Not being punished, or even talked to by anybody they may have actually respected, had gave them the green light to continue on.

Especially since Merlin wasn't running off to tattle for himself.

When he eventually realized that the people treated him this way because they had over-exaggerated the council meeting, he'd tried to explain that he had been telling the truth. The snakes had been proof. But it was clear he'd lost their trust-if he even had it in the first place-and had somehow gained the reputation of a troublemaker. And then when the bullying had started...it hadn't been long after the dance. It was as if Arthur dancing with that girl had been a statement, that it was open season on Merlin to be used as a scrape goat for everything that went wrong in the kingdom.

And there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Who wanted to hear about Merlin's problems anyway, who would even step in and force it to stop? The king? Uther no doubt wanted his head on a silver platter just for existing, what would he do other than tell him to be grateful for everything the king had allowed him to have. Arthur? Who made his views on what he thought of Merlin 'very' clear that night. He would probably just tell Merlin to suck it up and leave him alone as he had far more important things to do. Gaius... no. Merlin didn't want to drag his uncle into his problems again, nor did he want Morgana to realize just how helpless he was. Not even Gwen could help him, being a serving girl.

No, he would just 'suck it up' and hope that things would get better now that he stopped his hiding.

X

"Consort Merlin, would you like this beautiful piece of jewelry." A woman called from one of the carts that he passed by. Merlin perked up at this, head swirling around because this was the first somebody had spoken to him in weeks without some kind of jeer to their words. "It's usually for twenty gold pieces but for you, I'll give it for ten."

Merlin deflated, looking at the ring she held in the palm of her hand. It was a single thing as it was a ring. And one look at it told him that it wasn't worth twenty gold pieces-something he didn't have-nor was it worth even ten gold pieces-something he also didn't have.

"No thank you. I don't need a ring." Merlin said as he backed away from the lady while trying to hide his disappointment. She was obviously trying to scam him, another tactic many of the market stalls tried to use on him nowadays. The ring couldn't have been more than five silver pieces, but the stall owner had been trying to line her own pockets. This was this misconception going about that he went about carrying handful's of the prince's gold around in his pockets. So not even a stroll in the marketplace freed him from anything.

The shopkeeper seemed quite displeased by his dismissal of her, an offended look on her face as Merlin turned down her wares. "You know," she snapped at him. "I'm sure that you could fix whatever mistake you made with the prince if you gifted him something." Then she angled the ring so that he could get a better look at the piss-poor jewel centered into the top. "I bet he won't even look at the girl from the dance if you gave him this. The jewel has been said to get your true love's attention by wearing it."

Merlin's eye's flashed in offense, because he hadn't done anything wrong. He hadn't been the one to 'make' Arthur do anything. He had chosen entirely on his own to run off, and he didn't appreciate what should be considered ancient history flung in his face just because he didn't want to be scammed. "Well, maybe he should just get off his high horse, instead of ditching me for the first pretty face he saw there." He said back scathingly, and because he couldn't help himself. "By the way, there is no magical properties in that ring. You're just trying to sale false wares."

The ring seemed to be as ordinary as they came. He couldn't sense one single drop of magic in it. And the gem itself was so dull as there was no spark of magic to give it life or an outer worldly appearance.

He ignored the stall girl calling after him and hurried away with his head ducked. When the whole Valiant thing had been going on, it had seemed as if nobody had known who he was. He was constantly mistaken for some kind of serving boy, or dismissed. God, how he only wished he could go back to that. It was as if everybody knew who he was now. There was no more 'mistaken identity' or confusing him as a new castle servant.

His face had became almost as recognizable as Arthur's himself was. Any anonymity he'd been carrying around with him was gone like dust in the wind.

X

It happened again. Merlin had been passing by a man selling wool-nothing that he would need, especially during the summer months they were in-but the man called out to get his attention. "Sir Merlin, Sir Merlin!" And Merlin was exasperated, wishing that people didn't use a title when all they wanted was to get something from him. But he turned towards the man-who was nearly hanging out over his stall and waving his arm madly as he tried to get his attention-just to get this over with.

He was still agitated because of the jewelry woman, and if this man started up the same crap...the man nearly shoved a roll of wool in his face, "You know, my mother is very good at sewing and this wool is very good." Which just left Merlin baffled, because what did that have anything to do with him. But then the shopkeeper continued on, "If you desire it to be done, my consort. She would be pleased to whip up an outfit for the upcoming winter with your husband in mind. It will be quite a present, and will only cost you thirty golden coins. Good deal, yes?"

And there it was. He wanted to scream at the shopkeeper that no, it wasn't a good deal at all. For one, there was no way he would ever spent thirty gold coins for a wool cloth. And no, he wasn't going to be buying Arthur any type of anything. No matter what it was that people oh so helpfully shoved into his face in a misconceived way of helping fix him and his relationship with Arthur.

"I don't think Arthur needs anything like that." Merlin said, and he didn't care if the man was thinking he was turning his nose up at any of his wares. He wasn't going to be exploited or talked into behaving as if he had something to apologize to Arthur for.

Then he was storming off again, bound and determined not to be suckered into stopping for another vendor. Not if the only thing any person was interested in talking about, was how Merlin could buy a gift to win back the prince's favor.

Arthur should be trying to win back his favor. Or he should at least be showing some kind of remorse for treating Merlin as if he was the dirt underneath his boots. But even if Arthur did give him something-the idea of the stupid girl dancing with his husband still made him infuriated even if it had opened his eyes to his mistreatment-Merlin would be the first one to throw it back into Arthur's swamy face.

Make a fool out of him, Merlin thought, but he wouldn't allow Arthur to fool him twice. Now he knew the game, and he would have to be smarter when Arthur was concerned, so that he wouldn't fall under the same crush he had been going through. He was already dealing with the repercussions-with this bullying that grew worse by the day-of allowing his hopes to rise.

It wouldn't happen again…

X

Merlin first caught the smell as he passed by the leather shop, the over cloying scent that the leather cleaner gave off nearly covered a sweeter smell that lingered in the air. It made Merlin perk up, taking a deep whiff, and then he heard a rumble in his belly. He followed his nose-ignoring the leather shopkeeper calling out to him-because he wouldn't mind having some fresh bread right about now.

And that was exactly what the smell was. The scent of fresh baked bread, along with other mixtures like butter coated the air thickly. The baker's shop was near, and Merlin had yet to realize it until just now. He had been walking around the shops for most of the morning, so he had spent his time evading the plentiful of shopkeepers who kept trying to wave him on over. Luckily, the bullying had been kept to a minimum, only broken up by this small group of mom's who had been doing their morning shopping-had stopped to giggle and point in his direction as they gossiped loudly for him to hear-their small children peeking at him around their mother's skirts that they clung to.

But no matter, the incident had been wiped from his mind the second he had smelt that bread. The baker's stand stood in the middle of the length of shop keeper's going down in the street in either direction. And Merlin kept his distance, watching as the baker-who was a portly man-used a large wooden platform on a handle to slide a second batch of bread out of a large stone looking over.

"I can't believe you are seriously working by yourself today." A peasant woman said loudly and just grabbed Merlin's attention. He took his attention away from the bread the baker was easing onto the table-steam floating off of it and into the air-to listen to what she had to say. He was standing just far enough away so that he wasn't immediately noticed, but was still close enough to hear the gossip that for once, wasn't about him. And something like that was quite refreshing. "What happened to Jerome, wasn't he a good worker?"

Jerome was a young man who had worked for the baker for many year's now. He would usually go out to gather fresh ingredients so that the baker could continue with his work without having to leave the shop unattended to fetch it himself. The baker had also had to cancel his delivery services because Jerome would usually take standing order's to those families who had to much work to walk all the way to the marketplace themselves when the baker had a perfectly fine and fit young man working for him who could bring it to them himself.

"Oh, he was the best!" The baker explained as he started to rearrange the loafs of bread so they sat in a neat little row over the top of his wooden stall. "But I had to send him home a couple of days ago, the poor lad looked to be as sick as a dog." The baker sat his wood handle to rest against the edge of his stall as he shook his head with a click of his tongue. "Literally, he was starting to turn blue. There was a moment where I actually thought he'd been choking at first." The baker frowned in thought as he remembered the last time he'd seen Jerome. And the strange way-unlike any the baker had ever seen-he had these weird blue lines going down his throat. They almost looked like veins, only far more noticeable as well as almost poking out. His voice quieted as he mused this over to the woman, "It was just the oddest thing." Jerome hadn't even realized his skin had changed colors like that till the baker had pointed it out. And even that wasn't enough for Jerome to believe him-as he had almost been convinced that the baker had been trying to play some kind of joke on him. Before the baker had picked up a glass and showed Jerome in the reflective surface what was going on with his neck. It had been the only thing that convinced Jerome that it was probably best for him to leave that work day.

"It was that bad?" The peasant woman asked the baker with a hint of surprise. She knew Jerome well, and she knew that boy worked to get every little thing he needed. He would not have left the job unless he truly feared he was closing in on death's door.

The baker sighed, still not noticing Merlin as he started to inch his way closer to hear them better, "I would have assumed that he would have gotten over it by now. It was a strange sight, but I thought all he would need was to have a day or two of rest," which definitely proved the baker was no physician. As having vein-looking discolored lines appearing down your neck was not a good sign. "But as he hasn't returned yet, I was going to visit him later on today. Just so I can know how long he is planning on being out."

The peasant lady started to sort through the bread herself, looking as if she was going to pick one to take home, but she continued to talk to the baker as she did, "Well, what are you going to do if it turns out to be a bit more serious than you thought? Your going to lose quite a bit of money by not doing delivery."

The baker looked weary and tired as he then nodded his head, already knowing Jerome as well as him delivering the food would be quite a large portion of his coins. And the stall was barely standing as it is, he couldn't afford to lose that much coin if it was going to be this ongoing problem. A week or two and he'd be fine as he had some savings, but without that delivery service, he would go bankrupt within days.

"Well then," the baker sighed because even though he didn't want to, he had a business to run and couldn't afford to wait for Jerome to make a full recovery if it was going to take an extended time, "I suppose that I will have to hire someone to do the extra bits until he's recovered." the baker stopped what he was doing, which appeared to be rearranging the mason jars sitting off to the side. And the jars appeared to be filled to the brim with either a thing of butter, or a thing of jelly. "Would you happen to know anybody looking for work? I have been getting orders by the dozen which won't deliver themselves." He stopped so he could pull out a stack of loose parchment, so he could wave it at her as some kind of proof to his claims. "And I need someone to man the shop because I have to pick up certain things and that alone will be an all day trip. So I can't leave the stop for that long or I will be losing even more business!" Then he threw his large stack of parchments onto the counter of the stall to show his frustrations.

Merlin perked up at that, as an inkling of an idea started to creep into his mind. It wasn't a bad thought, and sure, he didn't really know much about a bakery but hey…surely it was something that he could learn, right? Merlin got snapped out of his musings when that peasant woman started to speak again.

"No, I don't know anybody who doesn't have a job already." The woman said with a heavy and heartfelt sigh. "If little Jerome is really as sick as you say, maybe I should stop by at his family's house. Just to pop in for a visit, see if there's anything I can do to help them out."

The baker man suddenly gave a laugh, that almost made Merlin flinch back because of how loud it was. It literally left the old man's large belly shaking, "Jerome isn't exactly little anymore, and you don't have to act as if he's on his deathbed. Sure, he's sick, but mark my words, he'll be back before I know what to do about this shop. As soon as the markings on his neck vanish, of course."

"Markings?" The woman shook her head as she watched the barker starting to gather his wax paper under the counter so that he could start wrapping up the individual loafs for the regulars that would be coming out of the woodwork soon. "What on earth do you think could have caused something like that?"

This whole sickness thing…it concerned the woman. But at the same time, it wasn't as if it was anything that affected her. She would do her neighborly duty and visit Jerome and his mother so she could see how bad this whole thing was. And if the baker was just making it sound worse than it actually was. Why, she'd bet Jerome was just taking a few extra days to himself before he returned to the hustle of being a baker's assistant.

The baker shook his head as he looked up from his wrapping, "I don't have an honest to god clue, whatever it is. But I couldn't have it near the product. He could be contagious for all I knew."

The peasant woman brought a hand up to her mouth, "Oh, I haven't even thought of that! It was a good thing little Jerome isn't out here then. But don't you worry. I'll put the word out that you're looking for somebody to work. But no promises. It will be quite hard to find somebody who will work as hard as little Jerome does."

The woman snatched up the bag she had at her feet, and swung it over her shoulder as if she was preparing to leave. But then he was there, Merlin nearly falling over his own feet as he threw himself forward, catching himself with his hands curled around the edges of the counter. The woman let out a startled cry as she fell back, clutching at her purse and looking as if she thought Merlin was about to jump her. The baker had also jumped back to look at Merlin with befuddlement.

"I can do it!" Merlin blurted out, his eyes wild because his mouth had been flying with more force than his brain could think. "I could help you out!"

Not that long ago-and had it really only been two months since Merlin had been in Camelot City-he'd had thoughts about getting himself a job. It had been back when he had first met Leon, and on the journey towards the city, his thoughts had been everywhere. And this did include a brief thought on finding himself a way to earn his own coin. So that he wouldn't have to 'rely' on rather or not Arthur would be 'generous' with his own money. But he could go screw himself if he thought Merlin would accept anything from him.

Merlin's life had became such a whirlwind since he'd first arrived, that the idea had gotten lost with everything else that was going on. And he hated to admit it, but he had gotten comfortable with not having to worry about the simple things. He'd had no need for gold because there was nothing he needed to buy. He didn't need food because George was always constant by bringing him his meals. And while he wasn't the best one at needlework, he knew enough to be able to patch up his own clothes when a hole would form. And Merlin knew the value of working yourself to the bone just for a simple coin, so he hadn't been spending the small amount of coins he'd brought with him home on useless and pointless odds and ends. So a job hadn't been his top priority, he was ashamed to be admitting.

But maybe it would be the one thing he could do to get himself out of the slump he found himself in. It would give him something to do, an actual purpose to his bleak existence. This whole 'consort' thing clearly hadn't worked in his favor, so maybe it was time for him to give himself a backup plan.

It was time for him to do something he knew how to do: working hard. And sure, he didn't know anything about a bakery, but he was a fast learner and had an incentive. Keeping a job would give him a damn good reason as to not be near Arthur. All he needed was for the baker to give him one chance, one chance to prove himself capable.

But the baker and the peasant woman was staring at him with astonished looks, as if they didn't know what to make of the strange specimen in front of them. "…Consort Merlin," the baker stuttered, his smile becoming a tad more fixed than it had been a minute before he had interrupted. "I don't think I heard you correctly, did you say…"

"A job." Merlin insisted, straightening himself up even with his hands planted firmly on top of the counter. "You said that you were trying to find help in the shop. I can do that, and I'll even accept half the pay you were giving the other guy. Just until he comes back from his illness!" His words nearly spilled straight out of him as they came out rushed, and nearly blurring together in several places. He was desperate, okay! Any little bit would help him feel as if he was regaining a bit of his soul, or at least make him feel a little less useless like a lump of clay. An entire month in his room or so, and nothing had happened. Merlin felt the need to be needed, to have something to be apart of. Camelot clearly didn't need to have a consort, but the baker did need to have an assistant.

"You-your looking for a job?" The baker said as his smile became a lot more forced all of a sudden. "And you want one at my shop?" He tried to stall for time, feeling his brain start to flutter with panic. There was no way he could have their consort working under him, to be a boss to a member of the Royal family. He did know that there was many people who would find this turn of events funny. Camelot's most unwanted consort begging for the chance to work under a peasant man.

Merlin nodded his head in eager anticipation, as he leaned so far over the counter that he was almost falling into the stall itself, "Yeah, I think a job would be good for me. And I could be considered a hard worker, so if you would take me on, I can promise that you won't be disappointed." Although Merlin may be over-selling himself, as everything he seemed to do nowadays was disappoint people. But he was sure he could turn his luck around, all he needed was a fair shake.

But still, the baker hesitated at the mere idea of giving Camelot's unwanted consort a paid job at his business. On one hand, it might be the one thing he needed to drum up some of his business. Who wouldn't pay to see one of the royal's doing peasant work. But then they had the other hand: he didn't think either the king nor the prince would appreciate it quite so much. His business would be ostracized after the guards showed up to take Merlin to the castle, and shutting down his shop would be all but collateral damage to them. And all because the idea of having their consort act like nothing more than a common pack mule was to good to pass up.

He couldn't do it, he had a business to run as well as a livelihood that he would desperately need.

That kind of backlash wasn't a risk that he'd be willing to take. Especially on a boy who'd probably never worked with the delicacies of fresh baked goods before. He would have to pay out of pocket for any mistakes the Royal consort would make. It was clear that consort Merlin couldn't even control his own limbs, so what was stopping the boy from tripping and upending an entire day's worth of goods over his floors.

"I'm sure I wouldn't be." The baker stuttered as he shot his eyes over to the woman he had been talking with, looking just as panicked as he was himself. "But…I'm not entirely sure my bakery is the right job for you…"

Merlin frowned, "It's not?" He asked with this sinking feeling inside his stomach. The baker had been talking slow, and it sounded as if he was just stalling for time, to think of a better answer. He had a feeling-as everything had been-this denial had something to do with his status as consort.

"Of course it would be an honor to have our consort assist in my humble bakery!" he said in quick succession, his brain working quickly to find a way to make this right. There had to be a way to turn down the consort without having to cause offense. As unwanted as he was, one bad word could sink his shop like a stone being thrown into the muck. "I am just afraid that it won't be possible at this time."

The baker made sure to sound as polite and courteous as he could possibly be. His shop was on the line here, and he wouldn't allow it to fall because a Royal wanted to have a go at playing commoner.

Merlin's hands-still pressed tightly against the wood of the counter-let up slightly as he stared between the baker who was wiping at his sweating brow and the peasant woman as she smiled awkwardly at him and leaning on her arm on the other half of the counter. He bit down on his lip, forcing his spine to stiffen up. He needed this job, any kind of job really, so that he could have something that would be entirely his own. Something that he didn't get because he was 'consort' to the prince.

"But why?" Merlin asked the baker, because he wasn't nearly ready to give up yet. Now he had the idea for a job on his mind, he clung to it. He didn't care if the baker was just trying to get rid of him, he would just have to show him that he could be trusted as the assistant of a baker. It certainly couldn't be any harder than the job of a consort. "You said that you needed an extra pair of hands around here so I just happen to have two myself." He held up his hands as if the baker would need any kind of proof to that claim. "And I am eager to help out in anyway that I can."

If the baker didn't want him here, then could he just damn well say it? Merlin didn't know why the baker wasn't telling him straight-up that he wasn't wanted, but until he finally did like so many others, Merlin wouldn't take any 'no' as an answer.

"Oh," the baker said out in a rush as an idea came to him. If the baker couldn't get consort Merlin to take the hint and leave himself, then he would just have to guilt him into leaving by them. "It's came to my attention that it would not be fair to give you a job. Instead of giving it to somebody who may need it a bit more than you do yourself."

And the baker could feel more anxious sweat that had been steadily growing over the top of his brow start to build up. He'd really done it now, and he could only hope that Consort Merlin didn't take offense to what he said.

"…What do you mean?" Merlin asked, with a deep frown aimed at the baker. He needed a job just as bad as anybody else did. He didn't have a chance for survival with the few small coins he had. He could get his independence back with a job. With a job, he wouldn't have to depend on the castle for his meals, he'd be able to just go out and buy his own. And since he didn't have to pay rent for his room in the castle, he could use that portion of his gold to save up and buy himself one of those fancy outfits from Madame Teresa to wear at the next party that went down. It didn't have to be anything extravagant, just one outfit for him to blend in better than he had at the last party. It would take months just for him to be able to save up on a peasants salary for even the cheapest outfit, but he would feel better than if it was just given to him.

Plus, any extra gold he could get on his own would show Arthur that he didn't need one thing from Arthur.

The baker wishes he could grab one of those many rags he had hanging around the shop so he could mop up the sweat forming across his brow. But he didn't want to drag any kind of attention to it. "I'm just s-saying," the man stuttered as he elaborated some more on his lie, with the hopes that the consort would be able to understand. "You've got a pretty nice life already. You live up in the castle, and you get free meals. The prince has all that gold in the treasury stored up, so I don't see how my simple baker's assistance position could give you more than what you already have."

Merlin could feel himself bristling, because of the problem he was facing now. Not a single soul would understand that all the gold, much of it that he hadn't even seen, belonged only in Arthur's pockets. It would be his to do with what he wanted. But it wasn't Merlin's. Even though technically, Merlin could demand to have access to if he wanted, was able to go and take out dozens by the handful…he just didn't want to. He hadn't earned any of that money himself, hadn't worked for it, the gold had been there long before he had even been known in Camelot. So it wasn't his to use.

Getting his own gold seemed to be literally the only way for him to get things that didn't have his 'husband' stamped off over it.

The baker continued on when Merlin had been silent for to long, quick with explaining his excuses, "I just think that I should give the position to somebody who could benefit from it a bit more. Like a mother who needs to be able to feed her starving children, or give it to a teenager trying to feed him many siblings since the parents can't make enough to make ends met. Surely you can understand what I am saying."

Merlin-with as pursed as his lips were, felt as if he had swallowed a lemon. But what could he do? It was clear the baker wasn't going to change his mind, and it wasn't like Merlin was able to force it. Wouldn't want to force it, he knew when he wasn't wanted. "…okay, then." He said, trying to hide his disappointment behind a mask.

Besides, as much as he hated to admit it, the baker did have a point. As it wasn't like Merlin 'needed' a job. Even though it was a huge hit to his pride, he had his life taken care of from the crown. He knew what it was like having to go hungry because there wasn't enough food to go around, so it was only fair that he made sure to give the job to somebody who didn't have a backup plan if they hadn't been able to make enough gold for the month's bills.

At least Merlin wasn't in danger of going hungry, even if it loathed him to practically go to the castle begging for the free food he was given daily.

"But," the baker said, relax and more cheerful now that the consent was getting it. "Is there anything else you would like, my consort? As I do have an array of plentiful goods if you'd like a few." The baker picked up a tray of the fresh bread and practically shoved it straight under Merlin's nose, a wide grin on his face.

In his mind, Merlin had the gold to spare and could probably buy every loaf in the shop and not even dent the Royal coffers.

It smelled great, the fresh scent of the newly cooked bread steaming off and straight into Merlin's nose. His stomach rumbled, simple because he bet it would taste excellent. But, Merlin didn't budge to accept it. It felt as if it was a slap to his face. He had literally begged for a job and had been turned down, but the baker had no qualms with begging Merlin to pay for it with gold from the crown. Gold that he refused to touch even if he was laid out on his death bed.

Merlin felt a spike of anger in his chest, and his voice came out bitter, "Sorry, I don't have a job. So I can't buy anything as I have not a single gold coin!"

Fists clenched tightly on either side of him, Merlin only stormed away as far as around the corner. So he could have one moment of privacy to breathe, and try to force the anger building in his chest out. His breath came out jagged as he struggled to get his rising anger under control. Nobody saw the struggling of a peasant boy. They all saw a bloody consort who could get whatever he wanted with just a snap of his fingers. And he hated it, with all of the fibers of his being. He hated being the bloody consort!

"I can't believe that really just happened!" A voice giggled as she gossiped like some kind of modern day schoolgirl.

Merlin's head snapped up as he heard this, needing to keep one hand on the back wall of the stall to keep his balance. The one talking was the peasant woman, and even though he knew he probably didn't want to hear, Merlin found himself unable to move either.

"Is Consort Merlin," the woman continued, as she forgo leaving to gossip with that bakery owner. "Really out here begging for work?" It was the remark that made Merlin want to put his head down in shame. Was it really wrong that he wanted to strike out on his own, find his own path other than whatever the crown had deemed for him. The woman continued on, "He is something else, isn't he? Trying to steal jobs away from us much harder working folks."

Merlin felt as if his throat was closing up and tears brimmed his eyes. His fist closed over in such tightness that he could feel the blood forming in the half-moon marks his finger nails had made. Was there nothing he could do right? All he'd wanted was a damn job so that he could earn what he got for once. How could that have been misconstructed as him trying to steal a job from somebody who was more deserving?

Was this how rumors got started? The people making up stories to fit with their own version and narrative of what really happened. Well, it was just one more thing he was going to get bullied for. People, especially peasants that had the most to lose, were quite protective of their work. Even if it wasn't a job they worked at themselves.

"That's exactly what he was doing!" Said the baker, loud and boisterous, causing Merlin's ears to perk up so that he could hear what the latest travesty against him was. "He was literally trying to steal a job from another! It's awful! How horrible can somebody be to do that?"

Merlin wanted to storm around the stall and demand to be heard, just so he could point out that the man didn't have anybody else for the position. So how was Merlin 'stealing' one of the many positions opened in the city if no one was there to claim it. But he didn't budge an inch. He stayed there listening to the ones hating on him.

"Besides," the baker continued on. "Have you seen our clumsy that boy is? He's a lot more likely to burn the place down then he is to be of any real assistance!"

And then the peasant woman and the baker laughed loudly, as if what they said had been one big joke.

Merlin ducked his head, feeling his cheeks as they burned. He was the first person to admit his limbs were all over the place at any given moment, but the baker was exaggerating. He had never set anything on fire because of his clumsy nature! He just couldn't walk inside a straight line half the time…completely normal his mother had said once he started to grow and his limbs became more gangly as he first hit his teenage years.

He could have earned his keep! If only that baker had given him a chance to show it.

The laughter seemed to die down, because the peasant woman was speaking again, "I think you behaved quite admirably." She told the baker. "Not giving into the whims of that boy just because he's royalty!"

Merlin felt himself stiffen up at that? Did she think he had gone through all of that because he wanted to have some fun for a day inside of the baker's shop. He had been looking for a career! Something that he could build a life around, something that was so far removed from consort that nobody would call him that bloody name again. But no…he was just the joke for people to laugh at behind his back.

Or in some cases, straight to his face.

The peasant woman started to speak again, "I don't think we need to give him any reason to be down here on the daily, mingling with us normal folks. It's bad enough when the prince visits, and I see everybody jumping over their own selfs trying to make sure he's happy. It's bloody ridiculous considering the loops that we practically have to jump through keeping him entertained."

The peasant woman had been stuck on the receiving end of that many a times. Trying to make a boy half her age happy-just so there was no negative reaction from the prince-by pure humiliating herself in front of half of the city. She couldn't imagine the awfulness she would have to jump through now that the city had a second child to cater to. At least Lady Morgana was more mature, and had class to her. Now, the lady was a welcomed retreat as compared to the prince and his consort.

"I really had to think on my feet to get rid of him." The baker said, and although he wasn't able to see it from his position, the baker had his head nodding graciously to the peasant woman. "So thank you."

Merlin felt something sticky and hot in the back of his throat. So the woman thought he was just like Arthur, the one person that he'd be happy if he had never met in his lifetime. The one person he didn't want to have any association with in any way…why was it such a bad thing that Merlin wanted to earn what he had!

Camelot didn't want him as their consort, he had no duties to attend to. He was literally a useless lump taking all of the resources from the city for his upkeep. Well, it was time that he changed that. Merlin didn't care one bit if he ended up in every shop on this side of the city. He would try over and over again until he found the one shop that would be willing to take him on.