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!

82. Chapter 82

This chapter is dedicated to Terry, who had wanted to see Merlin using a bit of logic as to cast doubt on Gwen being arrested. I thought it was a good transition thing so that it would not look as weird for Gwen to be released at the end of the episode. I hope they liked how I went about it ;p

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"Father, have you and the rest of the council came to a decision in regards to my consort and his proposal?" Arthur asked the king who sat at the head of the long table, looking with a cold expression. Arthur tried not to let that bother him, he knew Merlin had a way of just bringing out a person's anger. He sometimes wished he could show the same deference or coldness in public, something more than just keeping the distance he had purposely put in between them. Arthur had his hands clasped together firmly behind his back, while making sure to stand directly at Merlin's side to hold onto this show of shared force and a bonded partnership nobody else could even hope to understand. A true marriage that had been forged in steel, and even gifted with the king and his blessing. A marriage that could reach the stars themselves because of how potent the strangeness of a coupling that worked in ways nobody could quite see yet. A Consort with his Prince. A Husband standing by the side of his Husband to let him know that they stood together, come hell or high water. Just a man doing what he thinks is best for a man he loves. A Prince, heir to the kingdom having found his one and only with the Peasant Boy he stood with.

His groin was on fire, and it took everything he had to not try cupping himself in front of his father and all these men to soothe out the pain. A move like that should only be used by the common filth that roamed the streets of the city, not by a prince who needed to keep a level of decorum when the situation-like it did now-called for it. Merlin was some kind of bloody barbarian, Arthur thought, not looking at the boy for fear his disgust would show all the more plainly on his face. It hadn't been all that long ago his father had warned Arthur to put on a show, make his consort fall deeply in love with him so they could preserve the right they had to their own kingdom. That plan was clearly not going to work out, and Arthur just had to hide that from his father to assuage an angered king he was sure to face.

It was pretty hard to think clearly since Prince Arthur could feel his groin throbbing with the discomfort and that pain. Merlin had one hell of a bony knee, and he had felt every single curve of it as it had rammed itself up into his manhood. What kind of man had he married, who would do something so agonizing to one other man. So painful that Arthur feared he'd have to go to Gaius and get ointment for the fire dancing up his spine originated from his private princehood. If it wasn't so far out of the way, Arthur almost feared for the day he would be expected to carry out procreation to get the next heir for the throne.

Arthur would have to watch for that knee now in case it made a comeback.

And it never once occurred to Arthur that he probably deserved a knee to the groin just to snap his out of his rage-induced handling of his consort. For a man who had been so very angry at the idea of the guards leaving marks on his consort's body, he did not exactly feel the same if it was his own marks bruising up the consort.

"Yes Arthur, I've made my decision." The King spoke up, barely sparing his only heir a look of acknowledgment. He had his attention on Merlin, sorely focused on the boy that dared to challenge him in his own council. "But first, before I give my judgment, I think I would like to hear what more our esteemed consort has to say on the subject." He gestured with one of his hands to the boy in question, indicating he should speak now or forever hold the King and his judgment at hand.

Merlin jerked a bit, blinking startled because he didn't know what the king was asking him to do. He'd been expecting a straight answer on rather or not the king would agree with his deal: Uther could burn Merlin alongside the handmaiden if he couldn't prove Gwen hadn't been the witch within twenty four hours. He'd figured Uther would jump at the chance, not take the time to demand more answers out of him. Merlin was so far out of his depth that it was unreal. But there was no way he'd look to Arthur for help with figuring out what the king meant by this.

He'd already laid his cards on the table, there was nothing left for him too say. All he would need to know was rather or not he'd have to spend the next twenty four hours looking for ways to help Gwen, or if he should spend that time figuring out the different kinds of ways a prison break could be staged. And looking to Gaius wasn't any help either, since his uncle had actually been sitting at the table and was listening to everything going on while Merlin had been being abused off in the corner by a man child who didn't understand him when he said 'no.' And there really was only so little Merlin could decipher from his uncle's eye contact alone, anyway.

"…What do you want to know, sire?" Merlin went with, biting down harshly on his lip as he saw the disgruntled looks from the other men at the table. Apparently they had been expecting Merlin to just read the king's mind, and while Merlin could do many things with a flick of his finger, reading minds wasn't going to be one of them. He was surprised they had even gotten him back out here. He had been half expecting to be sent on his way, treated as the unruly child they all thought him to be on the spot. Maybe Uther wanted to torment him a bit more by forcing him to continue on living with the hell that was his marriage.

The King lifted up a single hand, and all of the whispering going on among the members of the council ceased immediately. "What I want to know," Uther said in this slimy voice, as he lowered his hand back down to the table and started a slow tapping of his nails against the wood. "Is what makes you so sure the witch, the 'real sorceress' as you so adequately put it, will back you up? What makes you think-if you can even find this woman when the best of my men have been unable too-won't claim Gwen as her accomplice?"

Well, Merlin hadn't actually meant he would track down the actual sorceress that started up this whole plague. Like Gaius had told him a while back, the sorcerer had most likely fled the kingdom as soon as they poisoned up the water supply, disappearing into the night and getting a head start a whole day before their kingdom had even realized something was wrong, let along what was causing it. He had his mind reeling, because he had only meant he'd find proof that Gwen wasn't a witch. But he wasn't going to risk pointing out that little distinction and ruining what chance he had to get both him and Gwen out of this in the one piece they were in.

"Well-" Merlin stuttered, feeling as if this was the first time he was in front of the council, it was actually the third time but hey, who was counting…but it was pretty hard to explain to the king why Merlin wasting his time was an effort that was needed. Uther probably just wanted to get one last humiliation in, before Merlin lost the terms of their deal and earned his place at Gwen's side in the pits of those ever growing flames. Merlin almost would be wasting his time if Uther expected for him to bring a sorceress-bound and gagged-to rest at his feet. And then explain a falsehood that Merlin had crafted in his attempt to get Gwen exonerated.

"Father," Arthur interrupted, as he saw Merlin starting to falter. He was no longer in such a blind state of rage-a knee shot straight into his family jewels would do good to knock just a bit of that out of a person-but he still had a low shimmer of anger swirling inside him. He was only lucky they were in front of company and Arthur couldn't act on his urge to try and straight up strangle Merlin for what he'd done to him. But he also couldn't allow Merlin to go on talking. Merlin had humiliated the both of them for one day. And when they got finished here and Arthur could finally get his hands on Merlin…all hell was going to break loose. "I do thin-"

"Even if," Merlin interrupts the prince before he was able to take charge of the direction of their conversation, refusing to take any back seat during 'his' questioning. Even if he was able to feel the glare on the side of his face like the prince was trying to melt him on the spot for not taking the hand he'd graciously tried to give him. This was another reason he found it so hard to focus: Arthur. The Prince deserved far more than a kick to his groin, in Merlin's opinion. He had always known Arthur loathed him, every conversation or fight was coated in the disdain Arthur had for him. And the feeling was mutual on Merlin's end, now that his rose colored glasses-blinded by his first real crush-were ripped off. And without those glasses, after hearing the way Arthur had spoke to him, looking at him with those hateful eyes of his…Merlin tried to hide how shaken up he was.

How much of a monster could somebody be to their own husband? Merlin knew that they weren't really married in the normal sense of the word, but there should have been some level of trust there. Despite their fighting and their arguing, even the ones where they both attacked the other…it shouldn't have gone to develop into…abuse. Merlin refused to be the neighbor woman in his village who was being abused by her husband when he was a kid, it had only stopped after she had killed him one day herself. He remembered all the times his mother had to patch her up, how she would smile and wave off any concerns even after a bloodied face accompanied it. How terribly alone she would always look, doing her work away from others because if she tried talking or being friendly, her beast of a husband was going to show up and drag her away. Only for her to return later with fresh markings.

Isolated-wasn't that what Arthur tried to do as he dragged Merlin away from the market when he'd been looking for work?

Alone-wasn't that what he was, when Arthur hadn't fought more to get him to come back to what was supposed to be their own after he had moved out. He'd felt relief at the time, but now…

Abused-phantom bruises and marks not yet formed on his skin. But he could've almost sworn he still felt the imprint of Arthur and his fingers pressed into his skin…

"Even if the witch tries to claim Gwen is really an accomplice of hers, that would be false as I have a theory on this…" Merlin continued on from his earlier train of thought. His mind was working in overtime as it tried to piece about itself to make up a plausible theory, even the king wouldn't know that the witch probably didn't even know Gwen existed. Let along the fact that Gwen was taking the fall for all her crimes. But Merlin had to think of something really good, because he wasn't going to let something so awful happen to sweet Gwen.

"Oh?" The King questioned him, looking like he thought this was a huge joke, and he was about to tell Merlin he had no deal. That all he wanted was to get Merlin's hopes up, and be joyful after crushing that hope underneath his leather skinned boots. The King leaned back in his chair, still tapping his fingers onto the table in this annoying tap, tap, tap sound that made it difficult for Merlin to be focused like he should. "Well, I'm sure we are all very eager to hear this theory. So do tell, regale us with the details."

Merlin's lips thinned, knowing that he seemed to just be making a fool out of himself. But he wasn't going to backtrack and say something stupid like he had when he first entered into the chambers. He had to think things through with more logic then that, take what Morgana had taught him and apply it to the situation at hand again. And ignore the cold chill as it was going down his spine by Arthur's presence, a voice whispering low in his ear that sounded strikingly close to Arthur's but was only in his head. A voice that whispered how Arthur was able to do whatever the hell he wanted, and no matter how many times Merlin would try to kick him in the groin, there was nowhere's for him to go.

Merlin hadn't ever considered he'd be scared of Arthur, look at him like the threat he'd once considered Valiant as.

"My theory is that Gwen was targeted by the sorceress specifically to pin all of the blame on." Merlin said firmly, doing one hell of a job at making sure his fears didn't disrupt what is more important. Gwen. Gwen was safety and happiness, someone he could talk to without the fear of being judged. A life that shouldn't be snuffed out before her time just because he was bloody stupid, moronic…if there was anybody that deserved to die it was him. Not her, never her. "Just think about it. I know I've not been here long, but I've seen the security you have on the Royal Wing-"

The Wing Arthur swore he'd fixed, swore was safe now and the guard who had allowed the Knight Valiant to come up had been promptly punished for it. How Arthur had made sure he knew it was safe, approaching him when they were at the dance just to make sure he knew Merlin would no longer be accosted when he was in his own room. The one and only thing Merlin could say he was grateful for, was how he had already moved out of the Royal suites and into Gaius' chambers. He would never be able to sleep knowing Arthur was connected to his room. Never be able to sleep knowing the prince could barge in anytime he wanted to, and 'strike him down' as the prince had so eloquently put it. Merlin might even allow it to get himself out of this hellhole of a life.

"And nobody's allowed to just go in and out as they please, right?" He asked, making sure to look around the table and meet the eyes of everybody. Even Gaius who was just looked at him incredulous, knowing Merlin was trying to pull all of this straight out of his arse. But it was just as Morgana had instructed him to do during one of her lessons, make sure it looks as if you are talking to all of them and not just the king. These men have very fragile ego's if you can believe it, but they also have the ear of the king. If they don't like what you have to say, they can easily sway his opinion away.

"…Correct." The king said slowly, narrowing his eye's at Merlin sharply. Merlin didn't know if the king knew what he was getting at, hell, Merlin barely knew what he was getting at by this point. But he couldn't stop now, not after he finally got the council to look at him. Even Arthur was frighteningly still by his side, and Merlin could feel the unsettling shiver of just being 'watched' by his going up the back of his spine. He would never be able to get the way Arthur had spoken to him earlier out of his mind, he would never be able to keep his back to him for long like this…knowing that the prince had crossed a line he should have known was there.

Merlin swallowed hard, trying his hardest just to project himself as the consort he knew he would never be. But what he would need to be for Gwen's sake, there was no chance for any second guessing or wasting his time on wondering rather or not the first real hit from Arthur would be today or not, thus starting an endless cycle Arthur thought Merlin would lay down and allow. 'Gwen' was the only thing he thought mattered in this moment, "Well, only a select group of people are allowed up there in the first place, aren't they? Those who are in the Royal family, and a select group of the people on the serving staff, right?"

Merlin knew for damn sure that was how the things were supposed to be. Arthur had been the one to promise him that, but Merlin found it very difficult to believe a single word Prince Bloody Arthur told him. Wasn't it Arthur that told him, on the night of the dance before the party had went to hell, that Merlin wouldn't live in fear in his own home. That he shouldn't worry about being attacked anymore, sounds of Valiant trying to kick down his door almost echoed in his ears still. Maybe that was why it was such a betrayal, because the threat was no longer the stranger beating down his door trying to force the unwanted onto him. It was now a threat standing right beside him, trying to disguise himself in the role of a loving and caring husband.

Speaking of husband, "Of course, Merlin. We discussed that before, I told you all about this when you asked about our safety protocols." the prince said, reaching out a hand to touch Merlin gingerly on his side with a smile full of gritted teach, playing the part of the loving or caring husband in front of the men. His own fingers hadn't so much as graced the side of Merlin-intent on pulling him close before he'd smile charmingly at the council men, acting as if he was thankful for them just amusing his consort-but Merlin's head was whipping around to stare at him the second he had felt the brush of Arthur on his jacket. Arthur was dropping his hand back down in less than a second. He had a feeling Merlin didn't care-from the harsh look in his eyes-if they were in front of an audience, in front of the very King himself. Merlin would cause a scene if Arthur tried to touch him again.

Merlin shook his head and turned back to the king, he didn't care about protocols or what-nots that he was supposed to follow by trying to address everybody. He was done with all of this, done with Arthur, "There's a chance Gwen was targeted because she's one of the few people that's allowed on the floor. So tell me, whose to say that wasn't part of the plan or something?"

Merlin could see the members of the council were starting to share contemplative looks at the other, frowning deeply. And Merlin wasn't sure if that was a good sign or not but…then again, he wasn't really too interested in trying to put on any kind of show for the council. He just needed Uther to hear him, in the way his son never would. Uther was far worse when it came to temperament than his son, but when the world was falling to hell right around them even though Merlin's world had already fallen months before, maybe he'd at least be willing to listen to other theories.

Maybe.

Merlin quickly continued on, filling up his own false narrative as a way to cast the shadow of doubt onto Gwen's arrest, "I mean, I would've thought it was a good idea to check on which servant has been hired on as a replacement for Gwen to tend to Morgana. There's every chance that she could be spelled to listen to the sorceress' command from a distance. So for all we know, they could be working at this very moment, why we're wasting our time on this, to poison what water we have inside the castle. Or this whole thing could be just one massive plan on getting close to the family of royals just sitting pretty up there."

Merlin wasn't exactly eager to throw blame on some other serving girl, but that was why he had used the word theory. Something that could be disproved. There had to be a kind of test or something that would show rather or not somebody had been spelled. Some kind of sign that the new serving girl would have obviously been lacking. But, he figured there was only time for one problem. He would get Gwen out and then start to worry about what serving girl he had set people's eyes on, if it even came to that.

Merlin continued talking in a rush, feeling as if he was on a role by this point, "Or for all we know, the serving girl themself is actually the sorceress, disguised. You know, like that lady did, Mary Collins." Of course, Merlin thought to himself, Mary Collins had only attacked the prince at all because Uther had taken her son to the pyre. If things had been handled with a different manner, maybe their wedding would not be remembered as the day a witch tried to attack. But then again, everybody could've used a bit more spice in their lives. Not Merlin though, he was pretty sure he had enough of a spice to last him a lifetime.

Uther's face reflected how he most obviously did not remember who Mary Collins was, or even what Merlin was talking about. This was something that caused Merlin to grit his teeth in disdain. Although really, he shouldn't show any surprise that the king didn't remember all of the people he pissed off-if any. Not even if they were mad enough to try and come back and kill his own son. Uther probably executed people just for fun for all Merlin knew, so that would leave a lot of angry people for the King to keep track of. He probably found it easier to not worry about such trivial matters.

"Mary Collins," Merlin said slowly, trying not to spell it out before the king. "The lady that changed herself into our wedding singer and tried to kill Arthur that night we wed." Merlin almost wanted to throw in how that was also the first day he saved Arthur, and everybody else who had fallen asleep due to the witch's sleeping spell. But he figured that bragging would have only got him thrown out before he got what he came here for. Only for Gwen would he subject himself to standing in front of the council all over again.

Merlin saw the comprehension on the king's face, clearly remembering Mary Collins. Or at least her persona of Helena, the singer who was supposed to welcome Merlin and Arthur into their marriage life. Merlin took this as his cue to continue talking.

"I mean, obviously I don't know much about magic or anything like that," Merlin found it to be far too easy to lie about this. But that was because he was keeping his eye on the prize and not letting anything, not even Arthur and his awful threats, stop him from doing exactly what he had to do. For Gwen. "But if there's a way for people to change how they look, then whose to say the sorceress didn't come back and is now wondering the castle for whatever purpose or plan she has in mind. So, maybe we need to stop focusing on Gwen, and look at this girl for a minute here. Just to see if I'm right."

Obviously, Merlin wasn't right. But he would be more than happy to cast this doubt in the right light. He might not have been in the city for more than a couple of months, but there had to be something here he'd learned after all this time. And one thing he knew for sure was how absolutely petrified and paranoid all these people were about magic. If they were willing to execute someone whose worked so closely under the Royal family…Merlin wasn't above using every ounce of little knowledge he'd picked up. Nothing wasn't up for grabs if he thought for one second, it could lead up to Gwen's freedom. Any leverage he could get…

Merlin was thinking so much on this, that he took a second to realize nobody had actually answered him. He frowned, looking around as nobody met his eyes. You would think there'd been nobody assigned to take on during this and Gwen's absence…oh.

"That blasted girl has refused to accept any other." Uther said, with a dismissive wave of his hand. It was no matter to him rather or not she took on another maid to help her dress or for her day to day needs. She would come to him asking once she had to do these types of things on her own. "She seems to think she'll get her handmaiden back if she holds out for long enough." Which would just be out of the question entirely. Uther would not given into the whims of a child who grew too attached to a maid. "But no matter, that theory you've concocted has no merit, since nobody new has been allowed access onto the floor. And honestly, who would be so bold as to directly come after the Royal family like that?"

Mary Collins.

Valiant.

The sorceress trying to kill us all now.

Those were all the people that had tried to kill the family, or at least Arthur. And those were just the attacks that's happened since Merlin had been here. Who knows how many there were before he arrived. And as this seemed to be becoming a pattern, who would say the prince wasn't also the target this time. Merlin couldn't blame them, he also wished he was able to kill Arthur. But hey, one thing at a time needed to be handled. Stop the disease and then worry about how to get rid of Arthur, on his own time that wouldn't get himself in the cells. You know…if he survived any of this to begin with.

"Okay…let's back up there." Merlin started, as he focused on his second false narrative he's panned out, since the first one was utterly a flop for not giving them someone new to go focusing on. "Maybe the sorceress doesn't want to get into the Royal wing. That doesn't mean she's not roaming the castle, trying to get access to what water is still left. Leaving us all twisted up about Gwen so that she can do what she wants and be gone before any of us realize it's happened. I mean, honey, didn't any of your men find nothing else but the one poultice? Nothing to indicate how Gwen was able to learn about the spell work in the first place?"

Merlin turned to Arthur, blinking innocently as Arthur glowered at him. The Prince obviously caught on to Merlin using the dreaded name he hated. Out the corner of his eye, he could see some of the council member's shifting in their chairs with disgust, having also caught onto it. Merlin's stomach twisted and coiled up in distaste. Apparently Merlin was acting 'too' gay for them. Supposedly it was alright that Merlin was married to another man, but heaven forbid he remind them what being a married man entitled. Not that Merlin knew of what it entitled, as Arthur wasn't exactly the best person to learn with.

And speaking of Arthur, "Yes," the prince said through gritted teeth. "The only thing found in the house was the poultice." Logically, the prince knew Merlin's theory might have some merit on getting Gwen out of jail. He wasn't interested in prosecuting somebody who was innocent. If the real sorceress was still out in the world, then Arthur wanted to know it. And he wanted to be the one to take her down for the seventy five people who had died directly because of her. But it was hard to think when his groin was still on fire, and he was thinking revenge ideas on what he could do. What he should be doing was focusing on the seventy five people who lost their lives, not on Merlin who infuriated him with every breath he took.

Because seriously, calling him honey in front of the entire court? In front of his own bloody father. Well, his father might be pleased since it cemented how they looked as a couple, but in an official council meeting was not the time nor the place. But he should have realized the boy would see this as another chance to get a dig into Arthur. Because he thought he was safe from Arthur's wrath, as long as the two of them stood in front of the council. But his anger was still strong, swirling deep inside of his veins over Merlin's refusal to obey him. To leave while he still could do Arthur could have the chance to save his life. The deal the idiot consort of him was trying to work out would still be on the table, his fate held in the hands of his father.

Merlin whipped around to face the king, while struggling to keep the look of pure disgust as it formed on his face off. Showing how much disgust he had for the king's heir-enough for bile to be building in the back of his throat as he swallowed down his pride for Gwen's sake only-would not endear the king to entertain him or his false theories, "You see. Whose to say the poultice wasn't put there as a frame job. Pin the blame down on an innocent, and give the real sorcerer free range to do what they want."

In retrospect, this theory might actually be a possibility. And Merlin might have believed it himself, if he didn't already know more of the situation than any of these jesters did-ie: he'd done the healing spell in the first place, Gwen was more innocent than anybody else in this entire kingdom. And the sorceress was most likely not hanging around to seek the damage she had done upon the city. And despite any of the disgust he had with Arthur, despite the anger and the fear of what his future looked to be becoming, he wasn't going to allow that to stop him from pulling what he needed out of the man. To cast the doubt onto the 'only' shrewd of evidence they had into believing a witch could be Gwen.

If Merlin could play the king into believing his false narrative, then he could play Arthur into agreeing with him. He could be sick and most likely throw up in his room when he had just a moment to himself, imagining exactly what a future with Arthur looked like. But while they were faxed to face, Merlin would be damned if he showed the prince how much his earlier threat had shaken him.

"…I shall agree to your terms." The king spoke up, staring Merlin down the slope of his nose. Merlin's eyes shot open with surprise, and he whipped his head up to look at the king. Out the corner of his eye, he could see Arthur, as he looked to be physically started by Uther's sudden declaration. Not because it was any surprise, both of them figured the king would jump at a proper opportunity to get rid of the consort. But hearing it, nonetheless, seemed to be a startling concept. This chance Merlin had to prove himself…crap, Merlin thought as the realization hit. He was gonna have to pull something actually together if he wanted to get Gwen out of this. And he had to think fast as he only had twenty four hours to do it in.

"Father!" Arthur cut in, stepping forward and slapping his hands on the table. "As he's my husband and my responsibility, I really must urge that you give this another thought!" The prince should probably be grateful that Uther was giving him an out on this marriage. It was probably the only way-death-for Arthur to be able to move on with his life. But that also the thing, Arthur didn't want to move on with his life. How was he supposed to get his revenge on Merlin ignoring him, if the consort was too dead. Arthur hadn't wasted his entire time, or put in all of this extra effort, just for Merlin to take the easy way out.

Besides…seventy five of his people had been found dead already, as of the last count that was done. It could be more now. He wouldn't allow Merlin to be number seventy six, a boy that stupid obviously needed someone like Arthur to help rein in those tendencies. And that was hard enough since Arthur had yet to seriously punish the boy.

"Arthur, it has already been decided." Spoke the king. Uther showed very little respect to his son and his views-as Arthur was right on the matter. Arthur was the prince through his birthright and Merlin had only been married into the family. It was expected for Arthur to be the one to take responsibility for Merlin or the things he did. In a normal noble family, it wasn't up to Arthur's father to have taken it upon himself to teach the boy a lesson on the family or how things worked. Which had been the reason Uther approached Arthur about his conduct with Lady Clarissa at the dance, instead of approaching Merlin and trying to threaten him into silence. But considering he was king, Uther took pleasure in whatever the liberties he could take were. Including taking charge over Merlin if he saw his son wasn't doing a good enough job on keeping him on his leash. The King turned back towards the consort, "This isn't because I believe any of what you say. I am only agreeing because I wish to see how things play out."

Merlin nodded his head, almost frantic as his eagerness grew, "Of course sire, I understand that." He knew the King only wanted to watch him fail, wanted to watch him be strapped to the pyre next to the witch. Wanted to see him as he burned, just like his nightmares when he'd first came to Camelot and feared for his safety. Nowadays, he had a reason reason to fear for his safety, with Arthur's threat all but hanging in the air over his head. In this world where he was starting to fear a threat being around ever corner, where he was forced on the defensive at every moment he was out in the castle. But none of that mattered during a moment like this…Merlin had done it. He may not know how he was going to succeed, but he'd finally done something right. Even if this was only one step in the right direction.

This was probably the most elated Merlin has been since he'd came into the city.

So, of course something had to come back to ruin it.

"But," the king spoke before Merlin had any kind of chance to rush out of the room, and start formulating possible plans on what he was going to do next. "I am only going to give you twelve hours, instead of the twenty four you requested. This is the estimated time it'll take for the girl's pyre to be finished. If you've not come to me with either evidence proving the girl's innocence, or the sorceress herself within the allotted time frame, then I will have her burned at the stake. And then my guards will come for you."

Merlin's smile dimmed because that was…not what he expected. Maybe he actually should have known the king would find another thing to use to pull the rug out from underneath his feet. He'd asked for twenty four hours-maybe the king thought that was a greedy amount of time, or was just amusing himself by giving a measly twelve to watch him as he scrambled about to find something useful. But he wasn't in any kind of position to argue or try to fight for more time. Merlin had a feeling the King's time had already started, and he was wasting precious minutes just standing here.

"Father, the deal was for twenty four hours, I must insist that it be kept." Arthur tried to put in more time, clenching his fist tightly around the edge of the table. Arthur had every bit of intention of getting Merlin out of this awfully ridiculous deal he had concocted. If only so he would have the proper time to punish him for the knee to his groin-only now was that pain starting to lessen. But he was very sure he would still have an awkward limp if he tried his hand at walking soon. Twenty four hours was not nearly enough time to save the boy from his own stupidity, nor drill into his head how he needed Arthur to talk for him so that things like this didn't happen. Twelve hours…he might as well ask for a miracle. And as the prince was a realistic man, he didn't believe in miracles just 'happening'.

Somebody had to make them happen.

"And I just made it go down to twelve." Uther said, snubbing his nose at Arthur trying to be the advocator for Merlin. It made for a good show for the people, another way to cement the marriage in front of their eyes, but it was all going to be unnecessary after Merlin had failed in his twelve hours. They would finally be free of the nuisance in their lives, and the king could set to work on getting his son's life back in proper working order. "Should I make it go down to six hours?" He questioned, and lifted an eyebrow at his son, silently asking to be done. Six hours before getting rid of him…was almost too good to be given up. But, the king was a man of his word and he'd already set up to twelve.

Arthur found himself opening up his mouth to argue more, before he stopped. He closed up his mouth sharply enough that he could hear the clanging of his teeth ratting up and into his skull. What…was he doing? He knew that as a husband, he was supposed to treat his own with some fragility-it's what he would've done if he had a wife, although a bit more on the fragile take then the rough handling he'd been using on Merlin. But Merlin was a man so a bit of rough handling should have been expected since treating him kindly would not do the job. He'd allowed the man to move to another home, for god's sake! If that wasn't a kindness, he didn't know what was. But what was Merlin doing to him? Where he was now openly trying to argue with his own father on the matter. His father, who already had done enough and had enough gathering onto his plate, that he didn't need Arthur arguing him on this matter.

Merlin didn't need someone to advocate for him.

His father did need an obedient son to stand as a United front in front of the people.

"I'll take it, sire." Merlin said urgently, refusing to stay silent and wait for the king to reduce his time even more. He wasn't going to allow Arthur to ruin this for him. Surely the prince could wait twelve hours before watching him by burned on the pyre rather than the six he was being offered. Twelve…twelve wasn't all that much, and he'd probably be running on fumes by the time this was done, and he was still uncertain about how he was gonna get any of this to work successfully…but he knew to take the deal when he saw it. Six wouldn't even be enough for him to come up with any proper escape plan for Gwen if he decided to go that route.

Merlin had a timeframe to work with now, and he just needed to work around it…easier said than done though. But he could handle this, it would totally be handled…yep, nothing to be worried about at all. A droplet of sweat ran its course down the side of his neck, and then it disappeared somewhere under his jacket.

"Good," the king said, proudly leaning back in his high back chair, looking like the smug jerk Merlin knew he was. Bastard was actually the better word to use. "I trust that you won't be disappointing me."

Uther could fancy it up, and use all of those kind words wrapped up in a pretty pink silken ribbon. But Merlin didn't buy any of it for one single second. This was actually a godsend to the king, he probably didn't even care that seventy five people were dead because it led to this result. A real honest to god legitimate reason to getting rid of him without anybody asking too many questions about it had just walked right into his lap. And even if people did ask questions-only the higher ups since no one lower class would dare talk to Uther the way they do to him-what were they going to do about it? The whole kingdom would be rejoicing after he was gone. Maybe that was a bit egotistical to think people thought and hated him so much they would celebrate his passing but…it wasn't all that hard when he's always lonely. Waiting for the worse to start happening in an unfriendly world.

And the worse had let to happen.

But no matter, Merlin was made of stronger stuff that people thought. He would crack on this, he would survive…he had to. Wait, no he didn't. But Gwen did. If only so Merlin could go out in peace, the idea of death no longer scaring him as long as Gwen survived. All he had to do was keep his eye's on Gwen's own freedom…and that might unlock the doors to his own.

"I trust that my son will behave like a perfect gentlemen and show you to the door so that you can get started on your little quest." King Uther said in a condescending tone, making it sound as if Merlin was about to run off and play in the dirt like a peasant child would. He didn't even argue, just thankful to get himself out of there while he still could, eager to get started on his 'quest' and save Gwen's life.

But then Uther gave his son a very firm, and familiar look. Merlin felt his heart skipping a beat while his face drained of what little color he still had in his cheeks. It was the look he'd given the day of their wedding, when he had wanted Arthur to pull out his chair for him. It was the look he'd given when he wanted the prince to kiss the back of Merlin's hand when they were having the meet-and-great. It was the look Uther gave when he wanted to have the prince do something romantic. And since these were tiring circumstances, he probably wanted a good Final show, make it really look as if Arthur was saying goodbye to what was his one great love. To seal the deal before the whole thing was put to rest behind the Royal family.

"…Of course, father." Arthur said stiffly, and he had his face set into a grim line. It wasn't exactly the face one wanted to see when the 'love of their life' was saying goodbye for the rest of their lives. Nobody was expecting for Merlin to make it through any of this. But that just sent a hot flash of determination through his body, screaming at Merlin to show all the people here how wrong they were to actually dismiss him as nothing more than a problem consort.

Merlin stiffened when he felt a hand resting on the small of his back, prepared to be the one to lead him out of here. He bit back that feral growl starting to work it's way out of his throat. After all-as much as Merlin hated to admit it-he couldn't do anything at this very moment. At least not until they were out of sight. When everything was said and done, and he and Gwen made it to live another day in this city…they would still have to live in the city. And Merlin couldn't afford to make an enemy out of an additional dozen people, at least not until something happened that was going to force him to go scorch earth on this whole bloody kingdom. Which might happen if Uther didn't hold up his end of the bargain and kill Merlin if he did fail.

"Just keep walking." Arthur hissed under his breath, just low enough for Merlin to hear him and not the other men. Merlin clenched down his teeth, wanting to dig his nails into Arthur's hand for touching his stiff back. Although, to be perfect honest, Merlin was smug. He felt a sick sense of satisfaction when he saw how the prince was limping, leading him towards the large grand doors. Arthur deserved to get a knee to the groin, Merlin almost wished he could do it again. But would actually have the time to enjoy it-after all the shit Arthur pulled with him since he's been here-instead of just using it as a means to escape because of the grip Arthur had on his arm refused to let up.

"Just try not to embarrass me on the way out of here." Merlin hissed back at him, glaring in his direction. Smug or not, Arthur was lucky Merlin had only given him a knee to the groin instead of what he could really do. "I thought you were supposed to be the best warrior in the land or something. And here you are with a limp, some great protector or whatever you pretend to be."

Arthur was no protector as far as Merlin was concerned, even if people he'd ran across are happy to praise the prince as the next one to protect them all. Even the ones he knew had been messed with relentlessly by Arthur and his crew of 'friends' praised the prince for his skills at protecting them. As far as Merlin was concerned, he was doing a piss-poor job. He wasn't like those people though, who would get bullied and then sing the bullies praises in the hopes of getting some kind of favor from him. Arthur was an arse and Merlin would not be stroking his ego for him. Fuck that, he was just lucky Merlin wasn't causing a scene right in front of the council for daring to touch him on the small of his back, right at the base of his spine.

Like a pseudo lover might behave. Instead of a man Merlin felt would probably stab him in the back-literally and not just figuratively as he has been-the second the right opportunity afforded him too.

Merlin could feel the way Arthur's hand went tight against his back, the cloth of his jacket balling up underneath his palm, "Just wait for it." Arthur hissed at him, eyes lit up with that smoldering heat of anger he got from Merlin reminding him exactly why he had this awful limp in his step. "When I get my hands on you one of these days…" Arthur only wished that he had the time to promptly punish the boy at this moment. But he had to stay and tend to the council, smooth things over for any who'd taken offense at Merlin's unconventional and rough manner of being heard.

Merlin's eyes darkened, looking like he might have something bubbling right underneath the surface, not let ready to explode. But the explosion was coming, brimming closer and closer to the surface with every interaction he had with his 'husband'. "This is supposed to be a marriage." He said firmly, not doing a damn thing to try and hide the volume of his voice as they neared the doors. He refused to allow 'Arthur' to have the last word, or think it was because he had been scared into silence due to it all. He would not be a punching bag for Arthur's satisfaction, wouldn't be 'struck down' because Arthur didn't like what he had to say. "This isn't a dictatorship. I will be your partner, or at least I'm supposed to be. And I am not a child. You don't get to control me or tell me what to do."

Arthur might be a prince, he might have all of the men under his beck and order to do what he wanted. But he wouldn't have Merlin that same way. He wasn't a knight who should be expected to follow orders from his superiors. And as much as he hated it, he wasn't exactly a normal peasant anymore, who had to listen to the Royal family or be thrown in the cells to be handled with later. And he was definitely an adult, no matter how many people tried to treat him as if he didn't know what was going on or what he was doing. It was hard enough for Merlin to find a healthy balance between the peasant life he knew and the lifestyle of a consort that was thrown upon him. He didn't know what he was doing half the time, damn Arthur if he thought Merlin would backspace his process and go back to the boy he was in his arrival to the city. There was a harsh line that stood between peasant and consort, the kind of invisible line that Merlin didn't know he could cross.

But he knew one thing for sure.

Arthur could take his abuse and shove it right up his arse.

Arthur bit back a growl of his own when he'd heard Merlin making demands. He really had been going too soft on him, making him think he could talk to him like that. If his father had heard, he would have done way worse than a deal that would leave him dead. Arthur didn't dignify Merlin with an answer, all of the anger in his eyes soaking volumes. Arthur reached past Merlin-making Merlin stop as his whole bravado faltered for a minute as true fear was shooting through him, because this was it, it was the moment they could never come back from. The moment Merlin realized Arthur and his terrorizing him would never end, the hope at the end of a long dark tunnel where he was going to die due to the hands of this monster and his evil ways, hurting somebody who did not have a real chance at getting justice for what he had and what he would endure-but all Arthur was doing was reaching out for the handle of the door.

Merlin blinked, ashamed of himself for how he had just submitted to his fear so easily as he allowed his mind and what might happen get the best of him. Arthur didn't even seem to notice, the hand on his spine never once faltering in response to Merlin's fear. Or-the consort thought with bitterness surging into his system, bile forming somewhere down in his throat-Arthur didn't even care. The prince probably had something much worse in mind then just making Merlin 'think' he was about to attack him at any given moment. Having a fist fight with the guy was one thing…having it turn into something abusive was something else entirely.

"Just get out of here while you still can." said the prince, disgruntlement in his tone since he knew full well there was nothing he could do to his consort. At least not in front of other people, not now, not with his mind warped as the pain-lessening but still ever present-that was in his groin refused to let him forget what the moron had done to him. Arthur allowed himself to show him 'gentlemen side' as his father had instructed him too, by opening up the door for Merlin like he would if Merlin was a fair maiden to be wooed. He moved so that his eyes would be looking around Merlin and his head instead of looking straight at him. It was all about survival. If Arthur had allowed himself to look at Merlin, he didn't know if he would be able to control himself.

Despite the pain in his groin lessening, he still felt the phantom fire of it shooting upwards. It was his hand, steady and firm on the handle of the door, grounding him into what was real and true, that prevented him from wrestling a mouthy consort of his to the ground. To make him shut up for once, show him who was the boss in this relationship. That yes, this was a 'dictatorship' as Merlin had called it, that the boy was 'his' brat, and a child-he didn't even know what sex was, for god's sake! So, how could he call himself an adult-and Arthur felt as if Merlin's loose behavior was his fault and needed to be corrected, since he didn't think to rein in those tendencies the first time they had started to become a problem. The little…unwanted…brat of a pet who was needed to be disciplined, sharply and severely so he'd never step out of line again.

Merlin scowled at him, "Yeah, yeah." He said grudgingly, glaring at him with disgust written all over his features. Fucking Arthur, trying to tell him what to do again, and sending him on his way-like he was just sending him off alone to play with his toys while the 'real men' had to stay and do the work. If Merlin didn't have a very small timeframe to work with already, he would stay and happily watch Arthur as he floundered on trying to get him out of here as the other men watched their prince, who was supposed to be living in 'holy matrimony.' He felt the curling of disgust shimmering inside of his belly at the obvious fake narrative, one that was even faker than the false story he'd spun about Gwen and the sorceress. "I know you can't wait to get rid of me."

Merlin wasn't talking about 'now'. He'd been talking about his death, the ultimate way for the prince to be rid of him, never bothering to think of his once failed marriage again, happy and content to live here amongst his fancied castle and talk among his nobles who'd worn clothes that could have fed a family for a year or more. Maybe Merlin should go ahead, and sale his own wedding ring if things started to look back. Spread some of the wealth in the lower town as his own great contribution to the people whose side he was on, but didn't want him to be.

Merlin flounced out of the council room, and all but bounding past the Knights Derrick and Justin, on his way out. Arthur watched him go with a half-built snarl on his face, he had his hand clenched so tightly around the handle, the curve of it was imprinting into his hand in such a harsh way it was starting to hurt. But, he didn't let go until Merlin was gone and out of his sight. Fucking idiot, Arthur thought, as he resisted the urge to go after him and stop bloody…flouncing!…around like he owned the place. Well, he kinda did but…Arthur refused to think on that any longer. Knowing if he did, he'd chase after Merlin just so he could wring his neck.

But to think, Arthur had been taken the time just earlier that day, to have Morris go up to his room and find that stupid box Arthur had broken a few days ago to have it repaired. It had left a very confused manservant, since a box like that wouldn't usually be in the hands of Camelot's prince-too run down and old-so not like anything Arthur would ever own for himself. He should have just gone with what his gut told him to do the second he'd swiped it from Merlin's room and burned the thing to ash. That would show Merlin who, exactly, he was dealing with.

Arthur closed the door with a resonate slam of the heavy wood, turned around, and had to school his features back into something a bit more neutral. The councilmen and his own father were staring at him, as if they thought they were watching a tourney but didn't know what was going on. Arthur cleared his throat to get rid of the gruff voice he'd been using on his disobedient little pet, "Gentlemen, I do think we should continue our discussion on what to do should by consort not find any of the proof that he's looking for."

Arthur returned to his spot by the king's side, looking as if he was ready to put an end to all of this sorcerer, not a mention of his consort coming from his lips. The councilmen took it as permission to start back up their in-depth conversation Merlin had interrupted the first time, as if he had never interrupted. And the prince listened to the chatter around him, his hands planted on the table and looking as if he was paying close attention but…he could not have told you what was actually going on right now. He didn't even notice when Gaius quietly excused himself to the king-citing he had a few tests he was running and needed to check on-before leaving in the same exact direction Merlin had gone.

"Arthur."

Arthur would forever refuse to say he jumped at the sound of his own name, head snapping to the side to look at his father. Uther, who'd apparently taken a moment while the council were distracted with each other to talk things over with his son…Arthur was somehow sure Merlin was to blame for this. Merlin should've been bloody thanking him for allowing him to leave the room and most likely stir up some more chaos out there. Instead of keeping him here to be shared in the torment of what his father would say next.

"…Yes, father?" Arthur asked with a generous nod of his head, face expressionless while he behaved like the perfect son and heir. Bloody hell though, Arthur had to stop himself before he could many any poorly thought out excuse he could to get out of here. To follow the brat so that he could kill him before his father was able to continue their conversation. Watching as the life drained out of Merlin, as the petal pale pink of his lips started turning pale blue as Arthur strangled the life out of him…never mind, Arthur thought as his stomach gave a sudden lurch-sharp enough that he'd almost thought he was about to throw up all over his father's war table. Seeing the visual of Merlin of Merlin underneath him, chocking for just a single desperate breath of air in his mind's eye suddenly didn't seem as satisfying as it should have been.

Arthur barely even heard his father when the king spoke, quiet and amongst themselves as their conversation got lost among the council coming up with possible back up plans if His Consort failed his task, "You did not kiss the boy goodbye. I believe that would have been the perfect moment to cement your and the boy's relationship in the eyes of the court."

Arthur whipped his head back around to look at his father started. He opened his mouth to say something, before he snapped it closed again without another word. To cement their relationship in the eyes of the court? Was the marriage ceremony not enough to actually do that? Was Uther demanding Gaius to test his consort on his virgin status, and Arthur doing everything he could to hide the truth not one more thing to seal their relationship in front of the court. Because surely his father had gave an announcement to the councilmen, letting them know the 'consummation' had gone off without a hitch. What about Arthur taking the boy out training with him, even if Merlin had no idea what he was doing. Merlin being the only one to clap for him after Arthur had took Knight Tristian out with a single punch to his nose? What about Merlin dressing him in his armor, as per the tradition among noble's and their families? Hell, Arthur was even getting a bloody box fixed up for him! Because his own father had suggested Merlin needed a kind of treat to keep him content.

Merlin didn't deserve a bloody treat, and his father would probably agree if he knew all of the thing's Merlin had been running around to do in the background. Things his father didn't know and things Arthur didn't have any plans on telling him, lest he be lectured on how he couldn't keep his own consort under lock and key. Was all of that not bloody cementing the marriage and proving to everybody the whole thing was real! What more did the king want him to do?

Uther seemed to misread his look as realizing his missed an opportunity, and firmly nodded his head in grim displease, "Yes, that was not ideal-" it displeased him greatly to seeing his heir kissing the boy right in front of him. But somethings just needed to be done for them to keep the throne, and keeping Merlin happy until Uther could have him burned…"But that would have been a good play for the men to see."

Arthur felt his lips as they thinned when he'd realized his father was actually going to start this. He wanted Arthur to do even 'more' then what he was already doing. He had a feeling his father wasn't taking about a simple kiss on the cheek, he was talking about a full on lip locking kind of kiss. Something that hadn't happened since their wedding, and even then it had only been because of obligation to his family and his duties. But really, perhaps the prince should have foreseen his father would want him to go that far.

"I…really don't think I had to go that far just to play the part, sire." Arthur said slowly, as he'd thought over his response. The harsh and the aching throb of his groin, still sore from being kicked by Merlin, told him he should be angry with the boy. And don't get him wrong, Arthur was plenty pissed and would need to give the boy an adequate punishment later on-one in which wouldn't cause his death-but actually kissing the boy was going a step too far. The prince could not imagine trying to press his own lips against Merlin's…he probably would have gotten another knee to his crotch if he tried. And his lip curled in distaste at just the thought of trying something so disgusting, an act that would surely shut the boy up for one moment but wasn't worth it.

It might have been a month ago, but Arthur could vividly recall the conversation he and Merlin had one of the times he'd been getting him dressed in his armor. How kissing him, as long as he didn't want to-which Arthur would never, but that was beside the point-was this 'hard no.' Merlin probably didn't even know what it meant, saying those words in a more sexual relationship. Arthur barely even knew those words in the context of having any kind of physical contact with somebody else, but he could respect it. It wasn't like he would've wanted to kiss Merlin in the first place, and it was a line Arthur didn't plan on touching even if he had a ten foot pole.

Sexual violence wasn't something Arthur was going to go for. Any punishment he gave his husband would be strictly 'non-sexual' and a kiss felt very much on the wrong side of that violence. He still remembered how Merlin had described how awful it must be to be forced to kiss someone you didn't want to. Bile was in his throat now, but he swallowed it down in a harsh motion.

"Besides, we are in the chamber of our most esteemed council members." Arthur said, his voice tougher than he would have liked it to be. While thinking it had probably been good that he had sent Merlin on his way, if only to spare his consort from this conversation like he wished he could be. The flushing from his face would probably give away that they had not done anymore more than what the King himself had actually seen. "And most of these men know that our relationship isn't exactly what it seems."

He said it like this on the off chance that any of the men were actually listening to him and his father, instead of figuring out another way to end the sickness like they were supposed to be doing. And maybe it had also been a bit of an exaggeration. Most of those who sat on the council weren't privy enough to know the finer details of their marriage. Only a very few chosen ones-probably two out of the ten that sat there-knew of the contract. And the two of them were only chosen because Uther had known they could keep a vital secret like that from even the other members sitting on the council, and needed their advice on anything he could use to get out of the contact.

They couldn't find any loopholes, obviously.

Uther frowned deeply, obviously not showing any approval over his son's free thinking, and not doing what the king wanted him to do in regards to his consort. Which was very unlike Arthur, since he'd been raised from birth that the king was always right, "You know as well as I do, that only a few of the more trusted of the council members know the truth." And so this, was one of the few things Arthur never understood about this council. All of the men here were trusted with the safeguarding and decision making of the kingdom during times of crisis, but…only a couple of them seemed to be more trusted than the others? Exactly what was the point in having a council, if one couldn't fully trust all of the people present at the table? But, it wasn't up to Arthur to ask those kinds of questions when his king knew what he was doing by appointing the people on his council. "You could have used this bit of a moment to shake loose any doubts any might have been harboring."

On one hand, Uther mused over to himself, it didn't much matter considering the boy was most likely going to be dead soon. But on the other hand, Uther would not wish to hear any unsightly rumors circling the kingdom after it was over, if people saw the king and his son a little 'too' eager for the boy to meet his end at the stake. That would bring up uncomfortable questions, it might even be best for Arthur to stay in his room for a month or so afterwards, to make the people think Arthur was having a 'mourning' period over his consort's apparent death to be. Anything, Uther thought, just to make the act seem more real. He would have been 'damned' before he allowed that awful, dreaded contact become public knowledge, and showing off how folly he had been during his youth to have signed the damn thing in the first place.

"…Well, something like that would probably be seen as inappropriate due to all of these circumstances." Arthur lied, refusing to allow his father to see how he hadn't thought once of cementing their lie in that way. A 'hard no' meant something to Arthur. And as much as he wanted to finally get the chance to throw Merlin over his knee-his hand was practically itching at the mere thought of it-and spank him so hard, he'd be squealing like a pig and begging Arthur to stop, with his face going all flushed as horrid tears ran like rivers straight down his reddening cheeks. Something like that would have been okay, because inside of the prince's mind, it wouldn't be anything remotely sexual. It was just a punishment that was needed to show Merlin who was really in charge of their little 'dictatorship' as he had called it. "We 'are' in the middle of a crisis. So I cannot be seen with my head in the clouds, more worried about my consort rather than what we are doing. It's exactly why none of the council men invite their wives to come sit in on one of these sessions. It would've been wrong for a woman to be involved among her husband's affairs. Now, Merlin might not be a woman, but he's still my husband. And since I know more of what I'm doing, he should just make things easier and leave these things to myself."

Arthur used this known fact as an excuse as to why Merlin should have never came in and started things to begin with. Women weren't even allowed inside of these private meetings usually, which was probably the only reason Morgana herself hadn't came bursting in with Merlin, Arthur supposed he should just thank his small favors for that. Women were seen as emotional beings, unable to handle these tough choices the men in this room would've to make to keep the people safe. So, it would be best to keep them as far away, leave them to do their womanly duties, like taking care of the home so her husband doesn't have to go through it. Hell, a consort's duty could often by seen as taking care of the home as well, or managing the household and making sure all of the servants and such was running smooth so none of the stewards in charge of all of the servants would bother Arthur with it. Now, he had to admit there was nothing wrong for the guards outside to allow Merlin entrance, well, other than the lateness and how their doors were supposed to be sealed. If his consort had been a woman, he wouldn't have been allowed entrance at all. Leaving Arthur to do his duty to protect them all from the outside forces trying to break their way through the castle, this sorceress being a prime example of that. Or at least, that was how things were supposed to go, and had gone for consorts in the past. But everything was so different, and off nowadays. Merlin being a man himself, he was probably expected to help out-to pull his own weight and such-and be fully involved in the going-on's of the court.

"Of course," Uther's voice brought Arthur out of his musings, as the king nodded his head in a grave manner. "You've clearly thought it through, so perhaps you did make the right call after all. At least, considering where we are and the circumstances surrounding us at the moment."

Arthur wasn't entirely sure, but he could have sworn his father was showing pride due to his decision 'not' to kiss Merlin directly in front of the council men-putting them both on a very uncomfortable display, because it sure didn't sound as if Uther would have been content to a quick peck before throwing Merlin out their doors and sending him on his way-during this very important council meeting where Arthur was expected to show some professionalism to them. Or maybe the king was just showing some approval at Arthur's quick thinking, and judgment of the situation.

He wasn't really sure which one it was, but he supposed it didn't really matter. Arthur, which had to be the first time in his entire life, found himself not seeking his father for his pride or for his approval. In fact, there seemed to be a sense of relief to him, when his king turned to the council men and got involved in the talks going on around the table.

He, Arthur thought, had somehow managed to win his father onto his side of thinking, and he was confident that Uther would no longer be asking him why he didn't take the chance to plant one on Merlin. At least not for today, or any other day, should Merlin fail that little challenge he had set for himself. But still, the thought creeped into the back of his mind as he watched his men working on finding a new solution, how much longer could he keep his father at bay? How much longer, should his consort survive past the next twelve hours of his life, would it be before his father started to push for more and more, to continue with 'cementing' the lie in front of the entirety of the kingdom?

And why, Arthur thought while his groin was still giving off light throbbing pain, had his anger been sated enough that he would keep trying to protect Merlin.

Merlin hadn't exactly kept up to his end of the deal-the one they made when Merlin had told Arthur kissing him wasn't on the table, if his father wanted them to or not. And Merlin had agreed to do what he had to as consort and not embarrass Arthur. He was supposed to play nice with his father, do things to make Arthur look good. Instead, he was doing all of it. And Arthur should reinforce his anger and take back his end of the deal. Go lay just one bloody fucking kiss on Merlin, force his own tongue-as unpleasant as it would be-down the boy's throat to show him which one of them was superior. Make Merlin regret trying to make a deal like that by giving him the best kiss of his life. And then withdraw it just like that, leave him wanting more but refusing to give it while he begs, because the act itself was too distasteful and awful to do twice.

But Arthur, as angry as he was at Merlin-and his crotch could attest to a perfect reason to be angry-knew what consent was.

And knew Merlin had taken his completely off the table.

Even if it Merlin got out of the mess he had gotten himself in, and his father trying pulling something like that again, Arthur wouldn't do it. Because they had made a deal, and Arthur would only kiss Merlin the day he wanted too.

Which he never would.

And Arthur wasn't going to break his end just to show a point to Merlin.

X

Merlin felt agitated.

No, not agitated. The word itself didn't seem to hold quite the same punch he was going for. Maybe it was stress? Or anger? Whatever it was, Merlin was pretty sure it left a vein to throb openly on his forehead, having his fists clenched on either side of his body so hard, his knuckles were turning stark white. And he didn't look at anybody who he might've past in the halls, couldn't even begin to tell if he'd past anybody to begin with. He took steps at least two at a time, jumped down a flight or two because he was too agitated to show any patience to go down the normal way, giving him less of a chance of breaking his neck if he tripped.

Merlin was in such a mood, he didn't bother seeing Gregory-standing at attention outside of Gaius' chambers-staring at him with these wild and surprised eyes. Because Merlin was supposed to have been inside of his room the whole time, so Gregory's…been guarding just an empty room while his charge was running amok around the castle.

Merlin almost wished he had stayed where he was supposed to. The 'only' good thing that had came out of this was Merlin finding out a timetable for Gwen's situation. But everything else though…Merlin could have been happy to do without.

"…Sire…" Gregory started, but Merlin couldn't hear anything over the roaring in his ears, and walked right past him, giving no false excuse as to how he had managed to get out without being seen and followed by the knight. Merlin slammed the door in his face, storming inside of the chambers without a word.

…Gregory scooted himself in front of the door only to scoot himself back to the side as he'd seen Gaius come storming after Merlin. The physician also said nothing to the Knight, as he followed his young nephew back into the chambers.

…Gregory cleared his throat and fashioned his face into an expressionless mask before scooting back firmly in front of the door. Just to make sure Merlin couldn't escape from his view again. He just hoped the consort hadn't done anything that might cause waves and get the prince's attention.

Maybe he had just gone for a nice walk along the castle. Yeah, that would sound like a nice thought to have. Gregory would go with that.

X

Eleven hours and Fifty Minutes before their execution:

Merlin had his hands planted firmly on one of the many tables scattered across the room, but he couldn't see the many books stacked on top of it through the red bleeding into his vision. Breath, he just had to remember that he needed to breathe. He was pretty sure his shoulders were shaking, and it was a miracle he was still standing on his own two feet at this point.

Now that he was out of there, now that Merlin wasn't put on display for the council to mock or for Arthur to dislike, he could have this one moment to breathe. To think. To see what his life has became.

But…

He didn't know if he was scared-because this was probably just the first step. To Merlin, as he walked around with borrowed makeup, to cover up black eyes or busted noses. Merlin wearing long sleeves not because it was his preferred style, or the only thing he really had to wear, but to hide hand shaped bruises that covered his arms. To having kick marks from hard boots imbedded on his sides, to give as good as he got in return but knowing fighting was pointless because it would never stop for him. No matter how hard he fought back, no matter how many times he got away with the firm kick to Arthur's groin, he would have still been living in fear. Waiting for the next attack from a husband he never wanted, in a place he'd promise Merlin would never feel assault in.

Did Arthur know then, that the fear would be coming from him? Instead of a random, awful sociopath who had found themselves inside their boarders? Or did he decide only now, it was all a wasted effort, because Arthur could do whatever he wanted to Merlin.

And who would stand up against the prince as Merlin limped down a hall, unable to walk straight because Arthur had shoved him right down a flight of stairs as punishment for just being there.

He might as well walk up to the tallest tower in the castle, look down at the great depths he saw, the hard cobblestone ground there to greet him from miles and miles up. And then throw himself out of the window, waiting with anticipated breath for his skull to shatter as it smashed across the ground. To get the brief moment of relief-knowing the pain of life was now over, and that he had escaped Arthur's clutches before he could ever put his hands on him again. Before he could threaten him in that nonchalant manner, as if it was nothing to show one's husband their true colors. He didn't believe his own tower-situated in Gaius chamber-would be tall enough to get the job done. At most, he would probably limp away with a broken leg. And that wouldn't be good enough for Merlin.

Oh, how dark he had fallen in the two months he'd been in this city.

But…Gwen. Gwen was the spark of light in his dark, the one he needed to focus on before making such drastic calls. He couldn't do any such thing until he saved Gwen. And that was his anger and determination spiking up, what caused his shoulders to shake and tremble in his conflicting moods.

As scared as he was…Merlin was almost red hot pissed. He wanted to storm up to Arthur, watch the fear in his eyes as he realized who he was messing with. He wanted the ground to tremble underneath his feet with everyone of his steps, feel the earth itself rising up to meet it's anger. Arthur might think he was a master, somebody in control of the world as it stood around him. But he would look like he was nothing more than a bug, as Merlin stood in front of him, controlling the elements of life around him in a way he hadn't realistically yet to master.

Merlin didn't hear Gaius when he entered the chambers, calling for him. He didn't notice as the man stepped up to him, frowning while he saw the state the young man was in. He most likely wouldn't have even noticed if there was an explosion going off right next to his ear, to busy staring at the back of his hands planted on that table as if they were more interesting than anything else on the planet. Merlin was able to feel every pulsing wave of anger as it went through him, his hands had started up a shaking he couldn't control, he couldn't make them stop if he tried. He'd lost control of his own body…

"Merlin!"

Everything came into a sharp focus and this sharp clarity when Gaius laid a hand on top of his shoulder. Everything he had been feeling seemed to overpower him, the roar that went off in his eardrums seemed to go silent. And he could breathe again, the stale scent of his books and probably toxic potion fumes flying up his nostrils.

His shaking hands finally went stark still-this frighteningly still that could have made a man wonder rather or not he was dead-before he was whipping his head around to look right at his uncle with wild eyes.

"Can you believe what just happened?" The consort exploded, unable to help himself but to scream his frustrations out at the very first person who spoke to him, pushing himself off the table in a sudden and harsh movement in which caused the hand on his shoulder to fall off. "Can you believe Arthur had the nerve to say something like that to me!"

He raged in the human way-with throwing his fists in the air, a snarl ready on his lips while he tempted himself with the thought of being able to kick over Gaius' table, the sound of things breaking would have been like music to his ears. The kind of music that didn't put one to sleep so that a witch could take out one awful, self centered, pompous, arrogant little abusive…toe rag! Instead of raging in what he deemed was more of the monster way-with winds blowing unnaturally harsh on the people who had wronged him, the earth coming up to smash down the castle that's been his prison, to force a tsunami to come across the land stretched to it's limit to wash the stones away so that Camelot could start with a fresh slate, the fire burning inside his very soul encouraging him to leave Arthur as the last man standing so he could see what chaos Merlin wrecked in his name. To seek revenge against a man more worse than any other Merlin had ever met.

Things he could never do, no matter how he wished he could go the savage route. To find the largest stone he could reasonably carry, sit on Arthur's stomach as the prince laid out underneath him-vulnerable in the way Merlin always was rather or not he denied it-and use that rock to smash into the prince's head until it burst just as Merlin's would once he thrown himself off the tallest tower.

"He's…he's…he's an idiot!"

It wasn't the word Merlin wanted to use. He'd been thinking of something far more vicious, a word that would perfectly describe just how much he resented his marriage. How much it made him want to 'burn' like the fire wielding up inside of him. To clench this stupid, stupid fucking ring on his finger and watch it with a sick satisfaction as the metal would melt into nothing more than a warm puddle forming in his palm. Arthur could suck that if he thought of ever laying one more finger on Merlin.

"What are you going on about?!" Gaius was asking his nephew, his frown deepening as it occurred to him that Merlin's behavior would seem completely outrageous for a man who'd managed a deal with the king. Something like that wasn't made often, and only a handful of men could say they've walked away with their earnings. Of course, the bet wasn't usually a life.

Merlin didn't hear him, dismissing how Gaius had been nowhere near close enough to hear Arthur's whispered promise of how he would 'strike him down', nor did he see the look on his uncle's face that showed how disturbed a scene he was making. But really, what exactly did Arthur mean by 'striking him down?' Was this meant to be a slap to the face, reddening his cheek as a reminder of more to come the day Merlin crossed his again. Or did he have a more sinister mindset, leading Merlin into a false sense of security until they were where nobody could see them-in the middle of the woods perhaps-and beat him within an inch of his life before leaving him to die.

Merlin knew he could never trust Arthur after that.

"I'm not going to have this!" Merlin raged, to himself rather than to Gaius, his face pinched and disgusted as he started to pace the room as a whole, rather than answering whatever it was Gaius had asked him. He seemed to find himself far more stressed out than he wanted to be, more fueled by anxious energy than he has been in the last two months, "I won't put up with it one bit!"

Merlin knew very well that Arthur was Prince, he had gotten his entire life handed to him on a silver platter, Merlin included. Some people if they saw the way Arthur treated him, might even encourage it because who the hell was going to care for a simple peasant boy who'd been 'lucky' enough to wear the ring given to him by Prince Arthur Pendragon. And Merlin should just give in and allow it, because the stress of being Prince far outweighed Merlin and his personal safety. And who better than the unwanted consort having his face be the one punched in again and again until the one and only prince could walk away, satisfied as he left only destruction in his path.

"Whatever Arthur has said that must've upset you-" Gaius spoke up with a frown, causing Merlin to whip around to face his own uncle, as if he had truly forgotten he was still there. He, Merlin thought in contemplation, could always tell his uncle what was going on. If anybody was able to tell Merlin if he was just overreacting-or what he should do with what Arthur had gave him-it would be his uncle. It didn't make him step up though, and Merlin did not tell his uncle anything.

He didn't need to drag Gaius into his problem anymore than he already had by moving here in the first place. He could handle this weight on him all by himself. He could handle being a Peasant Consort, with all of the pains and the disrespect that came with the job. He could handle his own magic, even as it seemed to brim underneath his skin, begging for him to use something as an outlet for his rage. The magic begging him to use it to carve Arthur's eyes out of his skull, listening to his screams as he realized far too late that Merlin. Would not. Be. Abused. It was only through his own sheer strength of Will that his magic did not combust out of him. He could handle fucking Arthur Pendragon, just like he was handling everything else in his life. He just needed. To calm. The fuck. Down.

"And while Arthur is of course, a flawed man as most are." Gaius continued talking, Merlin forced himself to listen before he allowed his rage to consume him all over again. "But I do believe he was right when he stepped in that first time. His claiming you love Gwen like one would a friend was probably the only thing in which saved yourself from your own obvious stupidity."

Merlin's head snapped to the side so that he could look at his uncle with large wounded eyes, looking betrayed almost. For a second, Merlin could have sworn Gaius meant it was a good thing for Arthur to have threatened him like he had. Like it was this good thing that Arthur wanted to have Merlin very firmly planted underneath his leather boots. That was before Merlin realized Gaius obviously didn't know the truth because he hadn't told him any of it, the rest of Gaius' statement finally hitting him in the face. Because right, he couldn't allow himself to be distracted by 'Arthur'. He could pitch a fit on Arthur himself, only after he had Gwen safe in his arms.

"I know you don't approve of it," Merlin said, while forcing his rage down into a tightly done ball that would be kept hidden until he needed to use the anger to fuel him again. "And I know you don't like that I made the deal with Uther-" he could see the truth written all over Gaius' face, how he was one of the many who thought Merlin wouldn't be able to do things in the timeframe he had been given. "But what else was I supposed to do? I'm the only reason Gwen is stuck down there right now, just waiting for them to come for her."

Merlin wished for anything that he could go back in time and just listened to his uncle the first time he told him using magic to cure somebody would be a bad idea. But out of his many abilities, going back in time wasn't one of them. And now that he had struck his bargain with Uther-struck the deal with a devil, was more what he felt like-he needed to come up with an actual game plan for what he was going to do with Gwen. There was no more time for this 'not knowing what he was going to do next' crap. Or not knowing how he was going to prove to Uther Gwen's evidence. He just needed to get a plan together…now!

The problem was…Merlin's mind was blank. Oh, he could curse Arthur out with the best of them, could put together new and creative ways just to torment him. But when it came to saving Gwen, to saving her life…he couldn't think of anything that might actually work.

"Yes," Gaius agreed with him, and Merlin most decidedly did 'not' flinch when Gaius didn't even try to comfort him and saying he couldn't have known what was going to happen. But that would just be an excuse, even if he had said it. Because Merlin should have 'known', Merlin should have heeded Gaius' warning. "But you aren't going to prove her innocence by offering to jump into the flames yourself, or to die alongside her. You do it by accomplishing this task you've set for yourself in front of the king, and the best way to do that is by finding out what exactly is in the water causing the disease!"

As Merlin would learn, Gaius wasn't the type to go mincing his words. He would tell Merlin the truth, tell him he was wrong only if he truly believed that Merlin had made a mistake. And he didn't seem to be trying to rub Merlin's nose in it, laughing at him to his face and making fun of him like many of the people he knew down in the lower town would be doing. You know, if they weren't all currently dying from some disease polluting up their water supply. No, Gaius was much older and wiser than that. He told Merlin these things because he needed to be the one to hear them. And Merlin really did. Need to hear the truth, that is. So that he would be able to do better in the future, and know healing was a big no-no, from now on. At least it was due to the specific circumstances they found themselves in.

"Okay, that's good." Why hadn't Merlin thought of that? It only made sense that they started right at the beginning. Obviously, they weren't going to be finding anything to prove Gwen hadn't gone and made the poultice to heal her father because that had been Merlin. But going back to the source of their issues, back to the water itself and hopefully finding a way to stop it in the next twelve hours or so…maybe the real sorceress had even left some kind of clue behind as to who she was! Merlin was doubting that one, because it wasn't like his bad luck was going to change, so why would it start to go right now? "But one thing for sure, the way that Arthur is looking…he's never going to find any kind of cure locked away in those chambers. I mean, he thinks he's so smart, so clever, so…so sharp! The prince everyone is so in love with despite how he struts around like a peacock. I swear, I literally told him I was a wizard and still, how could he not been able to see that I really am! Blind, is what he is!"

Merlin scrunched up his nose in disgust, while he shook his head. Even when Merlin tried to get on focus, tried to wrap his head around needing how he needed to help Gwen, he still had Arthur on the forefront of his mind. His anger not quenched until he did some real damage to the prince. He'd been literally 'screaming' over how he had magic, ready to trade the secret he'd kept bottled up inside for almost twenty years only to have Arthur…spitting, all over his attempt at making things right. Saving' him as if he was some kind of damsel who needed him, and then turning around and threatening him for refusing his oh so gracious 'help.' Merlin hadn't ever seen a man so blind as to not see what would be right in front of him like Arthur was.

"Sometimes," Gaius said dryly, making his way across the room to dig through some of the loose books on one of his tables. "They are pretty hard to spot." Bringing Merlin's attention to that simple fact. Spotting a witch wasn't as easy as any of the stories made them out to be. There wasn't a wart on the edge of his nose, and his skin wasn't green to give off the impression of an envious monster who wanted to lure children into the woods so he could devour them at his pleasure. He also didn't cast spells by stirring the blood of children into a cauldron, and he didn't crackle as he caused his wickedness to spread through the land, poisoning all who came across it. He didn't spend nights of the full moon by flying around on a broomstick-he wasn't even sure if that was actually something he could do-but the stories and lies spread about the magic users were varied and far more outrageous then the last. And those were only the worse ones he had heard over the years-in whispers and jeers from the other kids in Ealdor-that were on the top of his head.

"Maybe it would be best for me to just go around and wear a pointy hat. But I'm afraid Arthur will be mad at me around that as well." Although really, it seemed like a good reason to wear the pointy hat around. Show Arthur he didn't care how much he angered him with his every breath, Merlin wouldn't be coward into doing whatever it was he wanted from him. The pointy hat would definitely get him some unwanted attention but hey, at least they'd be making fun of his fashion choices for a change. And it was also one more lie the public had gotten into their heads about witches…kind of. Wearing a pointed hat was usually the sign of someone who was a witch…about one hundred and fifty years or so again. They were so out of fashion, no actual witch would wear one nowadays. Besides, people should know-if they were smart-that one couldn't find a witch in the crowd just by what they wore or looked like.

"I don't think you'll be able to find one quite so big enough to fit." Gaius said dryly, looking over at him from where he'd been putting some of his more…delicate…potions in stasis mode. Merlin could feel it when his eyebrows leaped up to his hairline, for it sounded like Gaius had just said he had a pretty big head. Which he didn't. Or at least, he wouldn't say his head was as big as Arthur's was…arg! He's going there again, thinking about Arthur, forced to endure as he felt his rage starting to bubble up to the surface, barely contained as his eyes sparked in agitation at the reminder of him. Everything he saw seemed to remind him in some connection to the prince and his…his…abusive arse!

"My head isn't nearly as big as Arthur's." he spoke up, lip curling up with a renewed disgust. He was getting all riled up again, unable to focus sorely on Gwen the way he wanted when Arthur was doing only god-knows-what. He hadn't even seemed to care! That Gwen might be innocent and would be dying for something she didn't do. All he cared for was making a fool out of Merlin, abusing him off behind the scenes because he refused to listen to orders he didn't 'have' to. Arthur seemed to be very confused about how a marriage worked, and Merlin didn't have the patient for him any longer to try and make this work out.

Gaius seemed to realize Merlin was starting to get all riled up about the council meeting and Arthur's involvement in it, because he gave the boy a very hearty sigh, "Merlin, you're delivery probably was something that could use a little work. You really do need to give yourself some credit, you actually did accomplish something in there, even if it does not look like it right now." Which, Merlin didn't see how. Now that reality was hitting him, he was able to recognize he was no closer to getting Gwen out of her cell then he was when he had actually made the deal. His delivery might have needed a 'lot' of work, but Gwen was still sitting pretty down there in her dank cell. "But you haven't exactly been a consort for very long. It's not like anybody would be expecting your first official council meeting to go perfect on the first time."

Merlin wanted to laugh with hysteria, to let himself finally go crazy in a way he's been holding in for all these months. He knew this was just Gaius trying to make himself feel better about what little he'd managed to accomplish. Sure, he could feel good about getting the deal, but…that didn't help him in getting Gwen out. All he'd done was ensure Gwen would sit there for twelve hours while he ran along like a chicken with it's head cut off, scrambling to find something that would help.

"…It was my second." Merlin corrected, running his frustrated hand through his bangs and over along the top of his head. The council meeting that was against Valiant had been a complete and utter ass of a disaster. Had done absolutely nothing to help them stop him. It had taken Merlin using his magic to get anything done. But magic couldn't help him here, it was what had gotten him into this mess in the first place. Even now, he could feel his magic as it swirled underneath his veins, and he forced it down…before he gave in to the urge to try and cut it out. Magic wasn't good if it would cause all this trouble. Or maybe it wasn't his magic at all, maybe it was just him that wasn't good. What good was he or his magic if he didn't know when or how to use it properly, without hurting somebody else in the crossfire…

"Merlin!" Gaius exclaimed, giving him a stern look as he didn't like the self-deprecating look the boy was showing. "You did as well as could have been expected, considering these circumstances. And some might even say it's admirable, standing up to the king like you did. Negotiating even, for the hour Gwen would be strung up on her pyre. The king could have easily gotten that pyre up in less than an hour if he had more men on the job-" the job had been heard to give in the first place since every man was being stretched thin with doing all the other things that needed tending to inside and around the kingdom as a whole.

Merlin scoffed, giving Gaius a 'don't play around with me, look' because he knew Gaius wouldn't go praising him for something like this. Not when this could have all been avoided if he had just bloody listened for once in his damn life! "Some would say that, but not you?" He asked, not missing that little part of Gaius' statement. He didn't want the man to give him false placates, it really wasn't his style anyway.

Gaius shrugged, reaching out to tap Merlin on his chest as if he was about to impart some great bit of wisdom onto him, "You saw the way they were treating Gwen as wrong, and went up against the king himself to correct it. It was a very stupid kind of move, and you're lucky he didn't just go ahead and set you up in the cells next to her after you're little confession. You also realized your mistake in using your magic to cure Gwen's father, and it was so easy to just hide somewhere and pretend you didn't do anything. Make excuses about how what will happen to Gwen is not your fault because you had just been trying to help. But you didn't. But, I do believe we'll need to work on exactly how you address matters to the court."

Now, there was the uncle Merlin would come to know over the last couple of months. Letting him know he didn't do as bad as he thought he had, as well as throwing in something to remember for the next time he ended up in that position…if he would ever have a 'next time.' But if only it was as easy to feel good about himself as Gaius told him too. And sure, Merlin might have done all those things, may not have backed down even after Arthur would try to threaten him with bodily home, but…he wasn't able to step away from the 'I'm the one who'd put Gwen there in the first place.' Couldn't step away from the image of Gwen's father on his news while begging 'him' to save Gwen…even when he might as well have been the one to lock the doors to her cell.

"You say all these things," Merlin shook his head in his self-deprecating manner. Because despite the deal Merlin had struck with Gwen, it didn't matter if he would just end up with nothing to show for it. His 'delivery' when talking to the court would have been the least of his problems when Merlin turned up to Uther in twelve hours time and had nothing to give him. "And yet, not one of them is going to matter. Gwen might as well be burned at the stake right now, since there's no way we're going to find anything! I was the one that put the poultice under her father's pillow! And I doubt the sorceress was dumb enough to leave some sign of herself as any proof that she started this whole thing! The only thing I managed was getting Uther's permission to search. And what good will that be in twelve hours when I have nothing?"

Merlin wanted to cry, feeling everything piled onto him with so much weight, it could take his breathe away in one crushing blow. But as he had already learned, crying about it wasn't going to solve any of his problems. He could actually go back to the beginning of the sickness and check on the water supply, but he wasn't Gaius! He didn't know what he was looking for, or how to recognize something that wasn't supposed to be there if it did a good job of blending into it's surroundings. Maybe…he thought it might be better if he didn't even try to find anything. He could say his goodbyes, wait for the guards to come for him, let them string him up right next to Gwen. And then wait for the flames to reach them, sending him to the hell he deserved.

There was probably a special place in hell for ones who got their friends killed.

"Then, that is exactly what we are going to spend the next twelve hours doing." Gaius said firmly, as he clearly didn't see the bigger issues that Merlin was seeing. Or maybe he did, and maybe he was a bit more optimistic than Merlin was at this exact moment. "We search until we find something. And even if we cannot find evidence of the sorceress herself, we might be able find a cure and that will be just as good for the king. Sorcerer's have this nasty habit of leaving their signature weaves into every spell they cast. And something as big as the one to cause a sickness like this…we will probably be able to bring Gwen home. To her father."

That would be a perfectly lovely idea, Merlin was willing to give anything-even his heart and his soul if he had to-just to see Gwen reunited with Tom after the ordeal they had all had to live through in these past few days. But…Merlin could feel tears born of frustration start brimming in his eyes, even as he refused to allow them to fall. "That has to be real easy for you to say. But I have Gwen's life and it's literally resting in the palm of my hands-" and he even held out his hands to indicate what he'd meant, gesturing wildly. "And not only that, but I'm pretty sure this is like, my one and only chance to be able to prove myself as capable. If I fail this…it won't just be me whose punished for it. Gwen will die because of my own incompetence!"

There was so much anguish and hatred roaring in Merlin at this moment. He hated that he still gave a damn about trying to be what people expected from him, as well as being torn between his own morals and what was right. A real friend would've used their magic in front of the entire court, and took the blame for the sickness if it meant Gwen being freed. But that was just the peasant inside him. A consort, a noble, probably would've been able to write Gwen off. Say she was giving her life a worthy cause because this meant Merlin would live since somebody took the rap for his magic…

Merlin growled deep in his throat at the thought of doing something so…so…so awful! But he felt he'd learned enough to know there were many nobles who would have done something like that if they'd stood where Merlin was. Merlin started taking off his jacket, his blood was nearly boiling because a second wasted here was a second of them wasted time on figuring out a true game plan. And Merlin found his jacket to be stifling, far too hot for wear in this stuff room. It was a huge pain, with many of his arm flairs-and at one point he was pretty sure he almost choked himself with it-before he finally got the darn thing to come off. And when he was done, Merlin angrily threw it over the back of one of the chairs, nearly knocking the chair itself over from the force of the blow…he was pretty sure he was agitated about more than just his jacket. But the jacket seemed pretty convenient to get all of his frustrations out on.

Or some of them, because he had so much anger built up inside of him. But he had no outlet to get it out of him. He was just so…frustrated…for every minute of the day. He wanted to go out and find a nice quiet spot out in the woods, and then use his magic to just start ripping trees out of their roots and listen to the crash and chaos around him. But the last time he try to fell a tree with his magic, he had nearly crushed one of his neighbor's houses…

"And-" Merlin started, already whipping around to face his uncle. Before he could get another word out during his rant, breathing so hard and harshly that he thought his heart was trying to beat a way out of his chest cavity, Merlin got cut off by Gaius suddenly grabbing onto his upper arm, jerking him back. Merlin'a head snapped up to meet his, eyes looking so wide and startled-he honestly could've passed as a modern day Bambi-as he yelped. But Gaius didn't seem to notice his plight, nor had he seemed to notice Merlin staring at him. Gaius had his attention focused sorely on his arm, forcing his sleeve further up on his forearm than it had been already. "…Whatcha doing?" Merlin asked, and his voice sounded far too cautious. He chanced one glance towards the door, wondering if he should go find help if the physician had cracked.

…Who did you go to if there was something wrong with the actual physician.

"Did Arthur do this?" Gaius demanded of him, his voice much harsher and colder than Merlin heard from him yet. And for a second, Merlin just stared at him in confusion, wondering if Gaius was had a touch of madness to him? Merlin had been having a rough go of it, but it must be pretty rough for his uncle as well, always running after him…oh, god! It suddenly occurred to Merlin that they could both very well be going mad, and what if this was some kind of hereditary thing, and they had finally been pushed to the edge of no return. Who was going to save Gwen if the only people on her side were having deep emotional problems!!!!

Before Merlin could truly start his freaking out-because dear god, what if Arthur had been right on the money when he told to the entire chambers that Merlin had a 'mental affliction', which was just one more thing Merlin hated about him. Even if he was emotionally disturbed, exactly what kind of shit husband would go around telling those people all about it-Merlin's eyes fell down to his arm and he could see for himself what Gaius was talking on about.

There was a bruise.

A bruise shape that wrapped around the entirety of his forearm. The bruise itself was already in the midst of changing colors, looking more like molted shades of purples and yellow's. His body's healing was faster than most people, and the bruise could have easily looked several days old, the offsetting colors clashing against his pale skin. Merlin hadn't even realized he had a bruise, as it seemed to look only hours away from fading when another person could have taken a few more days. There was only a faint throb when Gaius brushed his thumb along it, looking over it with the eyes of a highly trained physician. Gaius must have caught sight of it right after Merlin had tossed his jacket aside, his sleeve rucked up from his fight-where he was pretty sure his jacket was alive at some point because of how twisted up he had gotten within it's sleeves-and the colors of the bruise just dark enough to look a sight against his skin tone.

It was a man's handprint.

Merlin could literally count each individual finger along his skin, faded as it was, easily wrapping like a brand around his scrawny self. The life seemed to fade out of Merlin's eyes as he looked at those different colors embedded in his skin. It would be gone soon, healed possibly before he had known it was there if he hadn't taken his jacket off. But…this was how it started. His first 'real' bruise from the prince, marking up his flesh and declaring it as his own from the array of bruises. It was just one handprint around his arm today, something Merlin could probably brush off as a one time thing and try to put in the back of his mind. He could make all of the usual excuses someone may make like-Arthur underestimated his own strength. He didn't know that Merlin bruised like a peach. Arthur had just allowed his anger to get the best of him, and would show up tomorrow with fresh flowers and a damn good apology at the ready, promising that it would never happen again.

But Merlin-despite what the people would like to believe of him-was no idiot.

This might be today. But what about tomorrow? What excuse would Arthur give to him after Merlin started pointing out the array of bruises being left in his wake. A kick mark on the base of his spine. Or a slap mark across his cheek. His arm set up in a splint after Arthur twisted it too far behind his back…he could see those possible scenarios while they played in his mind. And if that was the future he had to look forward too…Merlin wasn't exactly sure if he wanted to see through it.

"Merlin!" Merlin was cold, this kind of cold came from the soul-freezing him from the inside out-rather than the room's temperature. And he was only able to stare at Gaius with dead eyes when the man grabbed him by both of his arms-and he wasn't nearly as tight as Arthur had been-shaking him to get his attention. Merlin barely noticed, nor did he notice how far removed he had gone from the situation because he could barely hear Gaius calling out to him, "Merlin! Merlin! I need for you to tell me rather or not Arthur was the one that made these markings on you?"

Merlin finally managed to smile, this brittle looking thing that looked as if it would crumble if the boy was hit with anything else today. Because this…it was how it all started. The first mark would just be a gateway to what else was to come: his future to be was bleak and desolate, with no light towards the end of the tunnel. Not unless that light would come from hellfire. Maybe it would be best to die from the flames and the fumes and the smoke as all he had to look forward to was this pained and lonely future. If it was just him, then he would have been content to take the deal, happy to finally end the pain on 'his' terms instead of facing it until his 'husband' finally went too far and beat him hard, it would be impossible to stand back up again. But…it wasn't just him. And he couldn't do this to Gwen or leave her to perish the same fate he would.

"Ye-" Merlin started-there was no point in hiding a mark like that. And as humiliating as it was just to speak the truth, Arthur didn't deserve any of that protection by hiding what he'd done to him-when he stopped. Cut himself off abruptly. And took just one more look at the bruise marking up the skin of his left arm.

His…left arm.

Not his right, the one that Arthur had grabbed and squeezed as he told Merlin he wasn't afraid to try striking him down right then and there. He'd been thinking Arthur's grip was tight enough to mark up his skin. Tight enough to bruise him. But one look at his other arm revealed it to be markless, not a single sign of discolored flesh to indicate how he'd been roughly handled. So Arthur…hadn't…actually grabbed him rough enough to bruise? This actual marking was from…something else…?

"…it wasn't him." Merlin breathed out, and a single spark of life returned to his eyes. It was still dim, a little light snuffed out far too soon as he thought of his impending future. But at least he didn't look like a dead man walking. Arthur hadn't grabbed at him there, which meant this handprint bruise was from somebody else. Which meant…Merlin wasn't being abused. At least not yet, not physically, even if Arthur liked throwing him around. He wasn't doing it hard enough to mark him. It was coming up, most likely. But not today.

"Then who was it?" Gaius asked, frowning even as a deep seated relief flooded his body. Gaius might have watched the prince grow up, and he might've grown somewhat fond over the prince during the years. But he also knew there was heavy conflict going on between his nephew and the prince. He would have 'plenty' to say to the prince if he had found out things have somehow escalated to this kind of violence between them. Arthur would have learned 'very' quickly that it's not a good idea to piss off the best physician, and the only one that was trusted enough to work on the Royal family, in the entire city. "If it wasn't Arthur who did this to you-" he frowned down at the discolored flesh on his nephew's arm. It was already in the mid-stages of healing, wouldn't need a salve or anything other than to soothe what little ache it might have been giving him.

Merlin shook his head, scoffing, "Arthur seems to think just touching me is enough for him to 'catch the gay'. He hasn't gotten close enough for him to be leaving marks on me-" that was a remarkable attitude change from the boy who thought he was going to end up being kicked down a large flight of stairs the next time he pissed Arthur off, which would probably be in their next meeting knowing their tract record. But he could breathe just a bit easier knowing that the time hadn't come. But it also might not be entirely true, since Arthur liked to get up in his space plenty. Only when the prince seemed to think he could get something out of it, or was just trying to mess with him.

The Merlin who'd walked into Camelot for the first time would have blushed and giggled at the way Arthur had plastered himself against his body the way he had, convinced this was only the start to something grand. To their own love story. But the Merlin of today wanted to scoff, and shake some of the brain cells in his past self loose. Let him be aware to run while he still had the chance, since Ealdor wasn't nearly far enough away to hide from Camelot in.

Gaius' frown deepened, not particularly liking the way Merlin said Arthur hadn't gotten near him. But being that bruised skin was probably the alternate to it, he found himself thankful. He would not have his nephew being mistreated right underneath his own nose, "Then where on earth did you get such a mark if it wasn't Arthur that gave it too you?" He couldn't help but think, who was dumb enough to leave bruises on the Consort of Camelot. He knew not everybody was thrilled with having a peasant born being so close to the throne-it was harder to not listen to the rumors filtering around the lower town before they had been closed off from it-but actually bruising him seemed to be excessive for what he's been hearing from jealous housewives who thought Merlin had 'skipped the line' as the lower town was filled with peasants Arthur could have chosen to marry if he was so inclined as to marry a peasant.

"I…don't know." Merlin's frown deepened, bringing his arm up to look closer at the molted color flesh on his arm. If Arthur wasn't the one to leave that mark on his skin-which Merlin could definitely see that night, the handprint on his arm looked to be quite massive to him, but he could see it was also slightly smaller than Arthur's large hands were-then who had left it? Who else had grabbed him in such a harsh way that it could have left him with a mark like this in the last day or two? Merlin had a whole list of suspects bouncing around inside his head, he was no stranger nowadays to the harsh reality of being Enemy Number One. But most of the people who got physical with him shoved him into walls, leaving marks on his shoulders until it faded within hours of him getting them instead of days like a normal person. Or they tripped him in the halls as he ran past, leaving similar marks on his knees from where he hit the ground, or on his elbows when he tried to catch himself so he would not break his nose on impact with the ground. But nobody usually 'grabbed him'. Merlin supposed even a lughead knight wouldn't chance wanting to stick around in case the Royal family actually gave a flying fuck about their consort.

Was it the two guards that had grabbed him when Merlin had bursted into the chamber room, intent on dragging him back to the Royal suite to sit until the king deemed him allowed to leave? Those two hadn't exactly been easy on the handling, he was pretty sure those two knights had tripped him up once or twice in the halls. They probably would've been thrilled to be able to do something to him in front of the Royal family and get away with it. But his right arm was still unmarred, and Merlin would be sure the guard on his left had been holding him closer towards his elbow, rather than his forearm.

"…Markus…" the truth hits him like a bolt of sharp lightning, the thought coming out of nowhere. But it makes sense. The only other person who'd been grabbing at him would have been Markus. Merlin knew it hadn't been all that long ago when the one incident had taken place. When Merlin had gone to visit Gwen, just that morning in fact, the Knight Markus had accosted him. Ordering him to bring him food as a reward for 'all the hard work he had been doing around the castle'. Merlin had told him no, and knights weren't used to peasants-even a peasant who was now Royal-telling them No. The altercation had ended when Merlin had put down his foot and told him to get his own fucking food, as Merlin was actually hard at work by trying to fix what he had broken. Merlin knew there had been a reason he hadn't liked the guy. And now he had a tangible reason for his dislike marking his skin.

"It was no big deal." Merlin scoffed, as he rolled his eyes at it, pulling his arm out of Gaius grip. "I had an argument in the hallway this morning and he grabbed me. Nothing I couldn't handle."

Now that Merlin knew it wasn't Arthur-the one and only person he was 'supposed' to trust, but didn't even if his life depended on it-it didn't seem to be all that important.