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!

89. Chapter 89

Five Hours and Two Minutes until their Original Execution:

Lady Morgana collapsed where she stood. Hitting hard on the ground, it looked as if she'd banged up her head pretty good on the ground. Merlin was easily able to ignore the way Derrick shouted out for the lady, rushing to her side in an instant while turning his back to where Merlin was hiding. But the naive consort didn't dare budge, trying to get himself a good look around Derrick-no other knights didn't come rushing out of the woodwork, summoned by Derrick's cry of alarm, proving they were truly on their own-to see what was wrong.

"Lady Morgana, Lady Morgana! What's happened, are you alright?" Derrick asked in a rushed tone in his voice, kneeling down to stoop directly beside the Lady, and it took everything Merlin had to not rush forward on his own and check Morgana over for himself. Good lord, what if Morgana managed to contract the sickness, and it had only just now started to hit her? He shouldn't still be standing in this one spot, right? He should be picking her up and trying to rush her to Gaius, where hopefully Derrick wouldn't be able to stop him before he'd gone with Morgana. What if…

"Oooh, I…I think I'm okay." Morgana slurred words made themselves known as Derrick slid one of his arms behind her back to help ease her back up in a sitting position. She blinked up at him, looking to be woefully confused by how she ended up on the floor. "I think…my ankle just collapsed on me all of a sudden. I haven't been eating well lately, it's very hard to do something as mundane as eating when everything else is going on. It must have hit me all of a sudden." She moaned pitifully, clutching down at her ankle as if she thought the bone itself must have shattered in her fall. Merlin tried to poke his head out to get a better look, feeling horrible with himself for not taking any moment to check on the lady at some point during all of this. Of course she hadn't been eating when her friend was probably being starved to death down in the cells. Merlin could only figure the stress of their situation had caught up to her at the exact wrong minute.

And then he saw Morgana glaring over Derrick's shoulder in his direction, and he frowned, knowing not one bit why she was looking at him with that much murderous intent…what had he done now?

"Maybe I should go and fetch Gaius to come and make sure you weren't injured too badly in the fall to the ground?" Derrick suggested urgently, and it was clear he was two seconds away from freaking out. Not exactly a good quality to have in a knight, who was supposed to be trained to handle every little situation that came their way. Derrick started to stand up, half turning around to make a run for the Royal physician. Merlin panicked and fell back, the curtains snapping shut before Derrick could have seen the ever widening hole making its way in the fabric as Merlin had started sticking out his head to see better.

"No!" Morgana practically shrieked, sounding far more lively than she had been a moment ago, the sound so utterly different from her weak state that it made everybody freeze. Merlin heard the sound of an awkward clearing of her throat before she'd started speaking again. "I mean, are you willing to really just leave me here? With a possible twisted ankle, unable to climb the stairs to seek myself a bit of protection in the safety of my own chamber. I mean, you said yourself that there was a fugitive running around here! And me, unable to defend myself. Why, the king would have your head if he knew of how willing you were to abandon his own ward, somebody he treats as if I were his very own flesh and blood daughter!" Her voice had gotten to unimaginable levels, growing far more and more shrilled than ever before. Each word sounded far more haughty and indignant than the one coming before it.

Merlin peeked through the curtains again after he decided it was safe, and could see Morgana must have dove forward when Derrick tried to leave, as the knight was now in a half standing position and the lady was clinging onto his arm. Digging nails in through his chain mail in order to force him to stay strong and steady by her side, and rue the day for him if he tried to leave her in her delicate state of fragility, it seemed to be spoken by the glare in her eyes, daring Derrick to just try and leave her alone in this state. But…did she really have to act like he was about to come up and slay her on the steps of the Royal wing, before disappearing into the night to never be seen again. Maybe that had only been the pain she was experiencing doing the talking to Derrick more than herself…

"Of course not, Lady Morgana. Would you like to come with me? I'll bring you straight to Gaius for healing, and will guard you until this wretched and awful night is over with." The knight declared, and sounding more aware than he had been before as the 'stoner vibe' ebbed away with this new-found situation. He really had been stupid, thinking he'd leave Morgana alone during this situation while he and the rest of the castle were supposed to be on high-alert. It was a good thing Morgana had talked some sense into him, he'd be deposited inside of the dungeon cells and stripped of his hard-earned rank of Uther discovered he'd left her.

"No, just…" Morgana stuttered, looking so unlike herself as her eyes darted back and forth, hands tightening on Derrick's arm to make sure he didn't turn around. Knowing the second he did, all of this charade would have been for nothing. No knight in this kingdom worth their salt would've been able to ignore the gap in the curtains that had clearly not been there moments before. Not even one of the 'stoner knights' like Derrick was. She suddenly let out an ear splitting shriek of anguish and threw herself forward. Derrick yelped in response, as he was forced to scramble to catch her and to steady himself before they could fall to the ground. Lady Morgana had her arms wrapped around Derrick's neck, still sprawled across the floor in what could only be a very undignified manner. And this would be the start of her ugly crying, loud sobs of pure sadness strong enough to shake her entire body as she hired her face into Derrick's armor plated shoulder. "I'm just so scared all the time! I do not want this sickness to take me as it has so many of the others!"

"…There, there, Lady Morgana." Derrick said with an obvious 'please don't let anybody else stumble upon them' sort of tone as he was freaking out, he awkwardly tried to pet the Lady's dark hair, trying to offer her comfort the only way he knew how as he ran a hand threw her dark locks. It was a really good thing Derrick had some kind of honor that he wanted to uphold, craning his neck as far away as he could from Lady Morgana when it sounded as if she was blowing her nose against the grey metal plating of his armor. Otherwise, he might've tried to take advantage of her in this delicate state, and quite possibly lure her up to her own chambers so he could have the bragging rights of having been the one to steal her supposed maidenhood. You know…if he was any other… "Everything should be over with very soon. And then you won't have one thing to fear."

It was probably a good thing Derrick wasn't that bright in the head, and didn't think to mention how all would be well once the witch was dead. Having a crying woman in your arms one minute, would've been nothing compared to the fiery inferno of this grief-stricken rage that would have came down on him. But as for now, Morgana only continued with her crying and her sobbing into Derrick's armor as she forced him back everything he tried in vain to extract himself from this precarious situation. And as for Merlin…Merlin could only blink in complete and utter befuddlement, trying to figure out what in the world was wrong with Morgana. Her mission was to distract Derrick, and pull him away so he'd not see Merlin making a run for the stairs. But had her sudden injury caused her to forget why she'd gone out there in the first place? Was she having a mental breakdown? The same breakdown Merlin felt he was entitled to be having right about now, especially since he was about to return to the last place he wanted to be.

And then Morgana lifted her head, not far enough to get Derrick's attention, but Merlin could make out more of her face now. And his worried frown deepened even more, quizzically when he saw she was glaring at him as if he was doing something she saw as wrong. And damn it, Merlin really had some kind of gift, didn't he? Able to get himself on the wrong side of literally every member involved in this wrong family, all in the span of less than a single day. And Morgana was now starting to do some kind of head twitching motion, jerking her head about towards the stairs and back into the shoulder of the man trying to help her. And oh my god, Merlin could feel the panic as it was starting to ebb up his throat.

Was Morgana having some kind of seizure?

She had to be, right? Nobody naturally jerked their head off to the side like that. It was only a motion one might see being done by those who were not able to control their limbs as their body had been forced through the ringer, jerking and twisting and contorting itself in some of the more extreme kind of cases. Not by a healthy young woman, though that same young woman was now letting out one more anguished wail before burying her face into the crook of Derrick's neck, the man now rocking back and forth as he tried in vain to comfort her.

Morgana's head moved out of the warm space of skin she'd sunken into just as fast, the lower half of her face still pressed tightly against the sheets of armor. And…Merlin felt a jolt go threw him as he connected eyes with the soulless gaze of another who promised death on him. There wasn't a single tear in Morgana's dark gaze, her face showing no sign of anguisor tear tracks even as she let out another terrible cry of sorrow. The kind of sorrow that would have even a willow tree weeping on top of you, comforting in the only way it knew how, to let this sorrowful person know that would never be alone again. As long as they took shelter under his leafy coverage and shed their tears against its big roots holding it to the ground. And…oh…oh boy, it was no wonder Morgana looked as if she wanted to kill him.

Slowly and painfully as she carefully took one of the many daggers hidden along Derrick's body to carve into him. She probably wanted to peel flesh from his bones, and would most likely take out her pleasure by seeking new ways to use his bloody carcass to drag out the horror show she would set upon him. Maybe his skull, stark white after every bit of human was carefully washed away until not even a speak of blood remained on the inside, was considered pretty enough to be used as her next flower vase? Morgana could be forever reminded of the awful boy she has to scalp after he'd forced her to live through this shit show for only god was able to know how long. But hey, it wasn't Merlin's fault! He'd been thinking Morgana would come up with some excuse to get Derrick away from them and freeing up the stairs for Merlin. Not just throw herself down on the ground and look as if she was unable to handle what life was throwing at her.

She was a pretty good actress though, she'd had Merlin fooled for far too long. And…he should be moving now, considering Morgana looked as if she was about to grab Derrick's sword and throw the blade directly at him in an attempt to cut off his life at the throat. Morgana allowed one more ear-splitting shriek to fall from her lips as she jerked her head towards the stairs for the final time. And was then burying her head back into the side of Derrick's neck to sob, big and fat false tears onto him

…This was it.

Merlin took a deep breath and cautiously stepped out of his hiding hole, anticipating Derrick turning around and capturing him in that very moment as their plan failed so spectacularly. But Derrick had not acknowledged him, too distracted with quietly shushing the lady, rocking her as he tried to pass on his comfort with these sweet reassurances that he whispered in the shell of his ear. Merlin took it as a sign to continue on, and somehow was able to make it to the stairs unseen. The sound of the lady making more heart wrenching sobs seemed to be enough to muffle whatever sounds his foot falls made. Merlin took one step at a time while he kept a steady eye on Derrick, walking backwards at one point to make sure he wouldn't turn around and see him. But maybe this was the bad idea, as Merlin stumbled when the back of his heel caught the edge of the step instead of going on top of it as he planned.

The sounds of Merlin's foot scraping as he fell and landed back on his arse, one hand grabbing onto the railing to stop himself from taking what would be an even worse tumble down the stairs, seemed to catch Derrick's attention. And Merlin froze, with his heart jumping into his throat when he saw the other knight starting to turn-just like Morgana had said to him earlier, Derrick would not be a friend to them today. And Merlin could feel that intense sort of anxiety ratchet up his heartbeat until it seemed to be thundering away in his ears, mind racing for one heart stopping second as a thousand of awful thoughts, each worse than the last, filtered among his mind.

Was this it? Had all of the stress and the panic and the fear and the determination to do whatever he could to right the wrongs of his actions, been for nothing? Had it led to this moment, where Merlin was forced to see the world as it truly was rather then what it should be. Where a king's bloodlust could only be quenched by bathing in the shrieks of a handmaiden taken from this world far sooner than it would have been if she'd never crossed her path with Merlin's. Would Merlin die with her, while trying desperately to reach her hand as the ropes keeping him prisoner to the stake cut into his arms as he tugged, trying to make sure they died as he offered her whatever comfort he could. Or maybe the king would want to up the torture factor, while making him watch Gwen as she was swallowed up by the flames before he'd be allowed whatever the peace-if any-the afterlife would give to a thing like him.

"Oooh! I'm just so terrified all the time!" Morgana suddenly shrieked, really laying her womanly fears on thickly. She threw herself forward, having also apparently heard Merlin's little slip up on the stair case, and decided to take the opportunity to do far more than what she had been doing. Derrick let out a gruff grunt as he ended up sprawled on his back, but he still didn't see Merlin right in front of him. Due to Morgana's breasts suddenly being pressed against his face, her shrieks growing onto something more hysterical than what it had been moments before. Most people would wonder what was up, considering this was Morgana, who rarely put on such a display. But she was also a woman, considered to be hysterical at the best of times as she was unable to control herself or even control her delicate female emotions and sensibilities, and Morgana was not above using everything she had to her disposal. "I might as well already be dead and gone if the king's execution falls through!"

Merlin tilted his head, not entirely sure what it was he was seeing, as Morgana pressed Derrick's own head further into the valley of her breasts. Having her delicate, feminine arms wrapped themselves quite smugly around the back of his head, a good way of preventing Derrick from being able to pull back and catch sight of Merlin right behind Lady Morgana herself. Derrick, who was now quickly and desperately trying to talk himself out of this situation, looking like he didn't know where to put his hands as they frantically moved on either side of him, but his voice was indescribable as he was being slowly smothered by the breasts pressing against his airway. And heaven forbid he insult the lady by trying to push her off, or accidentally put his hands somewhere improper. You know, a place more imposed than somebody stumbling upon the two of them and seeing their king's ward with her breasts on him…

Yeah, Merlin decided. Morgana would be definitely be killing him later for making her carry along with this charade. And depending on how long it would take him to get Arthur to come along with him, she could very well be carrying on with this act for the next few hours to come. Which would be exactly why Merlin took off, scrambling up the rest of the stairs before things could get worse for him. And there he was…standing stiffly in front of the door to Arthur Pendragon's room. To his husband. The door in his way that would lead him to the worse person Merlin had ever had the displeasure to be around.

He was ashamed to say, now that he was standing here and ready to go in, with nothing stopping him or distracting him from finishing this…he was 'this' close to chickening out. Morgana wouldn't exactly hate him if he went to tangle with the beast on his own instead…right? And surely Gwen had already survived this long, she would live just a bit longer for him to mentally prepared himself…and live long enough for Merlin to destroy a beast far stronger and bigger than anything he had ever faced in his entire life. The afanc was definitely bigger than a simple opossum or raccoon that had gotten into his mother's hut. And other than cutting the head off that snake, the same snakes Arthur had taken care of on his own later, he didn't exactly have the experience to deal with something like this. Even if his magic would leave him better off than Arthur and his stupid sword.

But Merlin could still hear the faint sounds of the lady's sobbing coming up the stairs, and like she'd said…Merlin wasn't scared of Arthur. He just didn't want to seem like the same hypocrite he knew the prince was. Arthur could claim their rooms would be safe all he wanted, and Merlin could swear he'd be much better off without Arthur anywhere in his life. But Arthur had still allowed Clarissa to stay, so it was only fair that Merlin returned to the one and only place he knew he would never be wanted.

But…

Merlin opened the door before he was able to talk some sense and reason into himself. Knowing this was a bad idea, but feeling pressured, knowing it was the only option they had. Just one more time, Merlin thought as the door started to swing shut behind him. Just one more time-for Gwen-would he bother with Arthur. And when this was over and mark his words, one way or the other, this would end tonight, he would never approach Arthur for as long as he lived…

X

Merlin closed the door softly behind him, leaning back against the hard wooden frame of it himself. It was so soft and quiet, his hands slightly tucked behind himself, the click of it could only be heard since the room itself was quiet. And dark. Not as dark as the alive was, but with the fire going off in the fireplace as the only light source, it caused an uncomfortable and stifling heat to fill the room as the shadows bounced to accompany the creepy atmosphere of the area. He had came in here with every intention of acting as nonchalant as he was able to. He'd make it look good, act as if he came in here because there was nothing better to do in his life. And then he'd ask Arthur in a bored tone if he was coming with them or not, leaving the ball in Arthur's court over rather or not he would get that giant stick out of his arse.

But the room had 'Clarissa' all over it.

Merlin didn't think Arthur would believe he was as nonchalant about the whole situation if he caught the consort throwing up into his chamber pot or a wash basin, the sight of the room just enough for his belly to start churning in distaste. The area in front of him was where Clarissa had deemed him to be a 'little boy', and cuddled up against Arthur's side like a united front. Against him. This was the place Clarissa had revealed how she thought that the prince had control over him, and could easily order him away as she instructed him too. But the joke was on her, or maybe it was on him, since he had gotten stuck in here with Arthur, when it was Clarissa who was asked to leave. Arguably, she at least left with all of the grace a woman born of her station should have. But that smug look she had worn grated on her, and made his stomach lurch in disgust.

And then there was that spot on the carpet where Arthur had climbed on top of him, pining him onto the floor so he could do weird things to him. They had made a mess out of the room beforehand and it looked as if Morris hadn't yet been by to clean it up for Mr. Never lifted a hand to clean anything in his entire life. That was the spot where Arthur had proven to Merlin what he already knew, that Arthur Pendragon was no good. He'd belittled Merlin as he spoke the truth, tossed aside everything under the sun Merlin had said about Morris. That would have been another of Merlin's mistakes, when he'd actually shown concern about Arthur's well being if Morris had so much free access to his life with his track record…Merlin felt his eyes harden and his jaw clenched. What a load of crock…what kind of piece of shit thought Merlin had nothing better to do than start something, if he hadn't actually been genuinely worried.

Merlin's hands clenched tightly behind his back as his gaze rested on the third spot. That spot. It was where Clarissa and Arthur had been…Merlin could keenly feel the cold and unpleasant shiver when it rolled down his spine. He didn't even want to think of what he could of walked in on if he'd been only a few minutes later. Clarissa's hands had already been far too close to…and Merlin scrunched up his nose as another unpleasant shiver rolled down his body. Yeah, there was no way on god's green earth was Merlin ever going to think about what the prince had…down there. He already didn't like looking at his face, he definitely knew he would be more traumatized than he already was if he'd been forced to see other parts of his body. Especially if those parts were humping into Clarissa like he was some kind of deranged seal…where was Arthur's wash basin. Merlin felt the sickness churning into his stomach again.

But speaking of Arthur…Merlin felt a spark of rage and indignation shoot through him when his eyes landed on the prince himself. The prince, who had done pulled out one of his many maps-it was quite possibly the same map Merlin had passed into his hands as he left-and was bent over it making what markings he wanted too, on the parchment. Doing his markings on the desk…the same desk he had been literally two seconds away from committing the awful crime of adultery on. Did the man have no shame! Was he really so bold, so cocky and so sure of himself, he didn't think there was anything wrong with working on the very desk his very own affair partner had tainted. Arthur should have-the very least-scrubbed it clear from the very top and to the bottom. There would be no telling what kind of diseases or…fluids…Clarissa may have left on it in her wake. He felt his stomach jerking when he'd thought of those…fluids. Forget scrubbing it clean then, it was tainted in a way where Merlin thought nothing would get it clean.

It was probably best to just take the whole thing out back and burn it to the ground. And then allow the ashes of Arthur's failed affair attempt drift off in the breeze, a new start as Arthur seemed to be content to act like it had never happened. And his throat closed up tightly when he saw Arthur finally recognizing somebody was in the room, he'd most likely heard Merlin's heavy breathing as he tried to contain himself. It was a good thing his fists would remain unseen behind his back, because they had almost been shaking with his rage-he hadn't even realized how much anger he still had contained in him until he had been forced right back where he had started, or he would have put up more of one hell of a fight against Morgana-when the different shades of blue eyes met across the room. Merlin had to swallow past the harsh lump in his throat to stop himself from raging on Arthur, ready to sorely blame him for Merlin being here. But calling him a man-whore, an adulterous cheater, a bastard who would never amount to anything in life if he wasn't already guaranteed a throne, wouldn't exactly win Arthur onto their side of things.

"…I vaguely remember hearing you say something about never coming back here." Arthur spoke from his side of the room after snapping his jaw shut. It was lucky this was what had came out, because a scathing remark-something harsh spat out at the moron who thought it was a smart idea to go and interrupt his work-had already been building onto his lips. Before he had realized that moron would, of course, be Merlin. The only moron who seemed brave enough-or stupid enough, depending who you asked-would be Merlin. After the fight they'd had, Arthur would have assumed even Merlin was done with how things went around here, and tried to make a run for it. It's what Arthur would've done if he wasn't tied to this land by his birthright. And it was something any other person would've done the second they had the chance. Arthur should've known Merlin wouldn't take his own chance. But, it did save Arthur from having to track him down far later down the line. Once their tempers had gotten cooled off and tempered down with the passing of time. The only reason Arthur hadn't gone after the boy earlier, was because he knew he wouldn't get very far. Not with the barricades still in place, and surrounding the entire city to keep anybody from traveling.

Merlin subtly ducked his head, trying to hide the subtle curled look of disgust his lip was trying to pull off at the moment. "I-" he started slowly, and stopped just long enough to lick at his awful, and achingly dry lips. Oh, he thought bitterly when he did the motion, this comment was something he'd remember. Arthur obviously had a very selective memory problem. He refused to acknowledge how Merlin was disgusted with his presence, the blond must have all but convinced himself Merlin would still be harboring his pitiful crush on him. And this had to be the reason Arthur continued touching at him, being weird and getting too close, like he had thought Merlin's apparent 'crush' was all fun and games to him. Arthur also refused to acknowledge Merlin's mental faculties were completely normal, but because Gaius had said they weren't the 'one' time, Arthur had taken his own approach with the situation. By declaring every fight or argument the two had was a result of Merlin acting out and even submitting to his own mental problems. That was absolutely infuriating, being treated as if he would only ever be seen as the guy who was 'ill at mind', and Arthur seemed to take pride in dismissing him since everything he said had to be tied in with his 'problems'. But when Merlin had told Arthur, filled with naive confidence, that he'd never be back…of course Arthur had heard that one loud and clear. It was just his luck, "I…I'm only here because I have to be. I just figured the people in this kingdom was worth more alive, then dooming them to a painful death if I allowed my own pride to get in the way."

But Merlin wasn't entirely sure this was true, there was this dark part somewhere inside of him he did not like, hovering in the dark recesses of his mind as if whispered ugly thoughts to him. Things like: is he really dumb enough to risk everything for the people? The same people who scorned him, who took pleasure in tormenting him, laughing at him as he failed to keep his own husband's attention on him. From the biggest of nobles who sneered at him for fighting for the life of a serving girl, all the way to the lowest peasant who crackled with laughter, as if Merlin finding a job and a bit of his own independence was nothing more than one big joke to her. These people would surely be dead in the next few days, Camelot nothing more than just a desolate wasteland, a shade of the former glory it had once carried before Merlin's arrival. It would be too easy to just not do anything, and watch the kingdom crumble on it's own, not needing to lift a finger to do it himself. The dark shadows speaking in the back of his mind told him it was okay, and it was comforting him: these people had made their beds with their treatment of him. Why should now, he be the one to go out of his way to fix their own mistakes. Camelot had brought this in itself, as he knew there was no telling what enchantress they'd pissed off enough to cast this curse. They should be the ones forced to lay in the mess of Camelot's own creation…

"…Is that so?" Arthur murmured under his breath as he slowly set his quill next to the small but very jagged X he had made on the final section of the map he was going through one last time-for what was the fifth time-making sure no stone had gone unturned in his search. He still needed to find the things Gwen had used in her spell work, like some kind of spell book where Gwen could have found a spell like this. Like Merlin had pointed out, she had to have found the spell somehow. And a spellbook he could hold in his hands would have been solid proof of Gwen's treason. Something he would be able to show Merlin so he would be able to stop all of this ridiculous behavior of his. One would have thought after last time, Merlin would understand it was best to knock on his door, rather than coming in whenever he pleased. "Do I want to know what exactly, you mean by that?"

Arthur arched an eyebrow as he said this, trying to ignore the tension palpable in the room. So thickly in the air, it would be impossible for even someone as thick headed as Arthur to ignore. And the dark of the room only made it more noticeable, able to hear only the sounds of their breathing, and being accompanied by the crackling of the flames in the fireplace. But despite the crypticness of Merlin's words though, Arthur couldn't help but feel just a bit relieved by Merlin's presence in his room. That meant, if Merlin had returned to seek forgiveness for his abhorrent behavior the last time he'd been here, Arthur hadn't screwed up irreversibly. Uther was too busy, dealing with Gwen's execution, he'd yet to notice anything was wrong between Arthur and his consort. But once he did…Arthur wouldn't live past the morrow if his father knew he had put their entire kingdom at risk for one single moment of gratification with somebody he didn't have any particular feelings for in the first place. Unless his consort was here about Gwen…maybe he'd heard already about her execution time being forced up to tonight, rather than morning. It should actually be happening any minute now, Arthur was able to see the pyre from his window and had spent this time being split between what he was doing and standing there. Waiting to watch for the guards to march out in tandem, pulling Gwen along by the chains holding her captive. It was starting to get pretty late from when his father had wanted the execution done though, and the pyre remained un-torched, with no fires leaping off to consume the maiden in it's painful glory. But none of those explanations explained why Merlin claimed that none of his people-as he tried to decipher Merlin's words by picking through them-would be doomed to die still if Merlin hadn't arrived. As if he had, for some reason, thought he could stop things. Ooh…maybe his mental illness was starting again?

"Probably not, but I am going to tell you anyway." Merlin said slowly, keeping his head ducked and bowed before the prince. It took everything in his thin body to do that, to force his hands behind his back to stop shaking. Merlin was meek, and quiet, and soft, palpable and innocence all rolled into the one being. He was everything he though a consort was supposed to do, and everything he'd thought his husband would have wanted him to be. Merlin almost felt like a bit of his soul was dying off, while he played around with Arthur's mindset. Even if he wanted to say screw this, and refuse to bow down to Arthur's delicate needs for the sweet and lovely lady born consort he'd been denied…he wanted to allow his dark thoughts run rampant and be sure to let Arthur know afterwards it was all his fault for making it all so difficult. Merlin would have had the situation already handled, if Arthur only listened to him for once. But he didn't do anything, other then ramping up his innocent factor with peeking out of his eyelashes, making sure to give Arthur nothing to complain about. "Besides, if you don't listen to any reasoning this time, I have Morgana who is more than willing to help me waiting downstairs."

This, Merlin thought, was meant to be nothing but a short joke. Just one of those off hand comments that leaned more on the sarcastic side of things. It fell short though, Merlin noticed when he saw that infuriating smug look-smug, because Arthur knew Merlin would return to his side like a kicked puppy, ready to grovel for his forgiveness like something pathetic. Maybe Merlin himself was pathetic, and just in denial about it. He had returned after all but did that make him anymore pathetic than he had already been? Considering all these extenuating circumstances that had lead him to this moment, standing in front of the prince as he tried his damn hardest to imitate the same graceful air Morgana was usually able to carry so easily. But either way, Merlin's joke had been lacking a certain spark that usually accompanied him whenever he did any of the things he did. No life or warmth hidden behind his complaining words like they usually did.

"Morgana is in on this? Why am I not surprised to hear that?" Arthur said gruffly, feeling a headache trying to form already in his temples. If the woman had gotten involved in whatever this was that had brought Merlin to him this time, then clearly it had to have been about Gwen. Which meant…the boy had to know about her execution. He wasn't just speculating about it this time, because of course Merlin would break his own word for…the serving girl. It wasn't all that long ago, Arthur had actually been considering-well, briefly entertaining-an idea of his own. He had wanted to be the one to break the bad news to Merlin, and warn him about what was going on with Gwen. He thought he would be nice, and take pity on the boy so he wouldn't have stumbled upon it accidentally later on. He thought he'd give Merlin a shoulder to cry on, or whatever shit he needed to get over this. It was the least he could do, but as it turned out…Arthur didn't need to make the first move to fix things. Merlin had did it himself by coming to him first. It seemed it was a good thing he chickened out when he did, and retired back to him room instead! "What did you have to do to convince her to conspire against me, anyway?"

As he was saying this, Arthur brought a hand up to rub harshly against the piece of smooth skin that rested in between his eyebrows, trying to starve off the incoming headache forming. There wasn't anything Arthur would have classified as 'easy' on where this was going. But hey, there couldn't have been anything worse than Merlin walking in on him with Clarissa. Maybe Merlin had came here, since he didn't have anywhere else to go, looking for his comfort? And somehow dragged Morgana into the scheme so he wouldn't look desperate when he'd came here alone? He'd been a pretty big talker the last time he'd been here, it wouldn't surprise him if Merlin only added Morgana's name to save face. It wouldn't surprise him if she wasn't out there at all! Because why wouldn't she come in if she'd walked with him? But then again…this was Morgana. And the prince wouldn't have been surprised if the girl had 'encouraged Merlin' to come here, expecting to see some kind of show as a result. She'd always done things like that, seeking out weaknesses like a shark could sniff out blood in the water, though her little tricks as a child wasn't anything extreme as this. Arthur had thought she'd grown out of this as they had aged, but apparently there was still a bit of it lingering inside of her, with the lady always in the mood to find new ways to get under his own skin. It only made sense she involved herself with his consort, considering Merlin was probably the biggest issue he'd faced in a long time.

"Amazingly enough," Merlin spoke, lifting his chin a little to meet eyes with Arthur. He could almost feel the darkness swirling inside of his own eyes, and Merlin had to duck his head back down-so far low, his chin was almost touching the top point of his chest-before Arthur could see it. Merlin could comfort himself with the idea of him just trying to keep up his meek appearance, this acting almost like a physical reminder to not get too mouthy with his response. But he knew it was only because he was trying to not allow Arthur to see the disgust written all over his face, this room only bringing him bad memories and scorn. And the look on his face-imagining rather or not Clarissa was the only one, or if Arthur had a long line of girls streaming in and out of his room at any given time of the day and she had only been the first he'd caught-would not endure Arthur into taking a chance on him. He had to be careful, not able to afford being mouthy, even when all he could see was a liar and one big betrayer, probably laughing behind his back over what a fool he was for thinking Arthur could play at being faithful in an arrangement neither of them had wanted. But it would definitely explain why he had Arthur throwing a fit every time he walked into his room unannounced. Though really, how else is Merlin going to find out things he definitely didn't want to know, but would feel like even more like a fool if he found out later. "Unlike some people, I don't have to conspire or coerce somebody into believing me as I speak the truth to them."

And then Merlin bit the inside of his check, trying so hard not to clench his fists behind the safety of his back. He had probably gone too far, knowing literally anything could set Arthur off and have him be sent away before he got his words out. But he had to do something, something to endure Arthur to listen to him…he couldn't leave this time before telling him. At least it Arthur turned him away this time, Merlin could confidently say he'd given this his all. Anything that befell over the kingdom after this conversation…it would be sorely on Arthur's head. For Christ's sake, Merlin was trying to play meek over here! Even if things weren't going like he hoped. Arthur should be asking questions to find out what was wrong with him, rude and most likely invasive questions, but still some questions nonetheless. Was he doing something wrong and completely messing up, or did Arthur really know so little about him, he thought Merlin's behavior was completely normal.

"Speak the truth?" Arthur asked slowly, watching as Merlin tensed when he rounded the corner of his desk. This action caused Arthur to scowl, but he did stop moving closer to Merlin. There would be only one thing Arthur could think of, where the consort would be acting this strange. Although he didn't know why Morgana would have got involved with something concerning Morris. She hated the guy, but didn't usually bother to do anything with him in mind either. Oh, god help him, Arthur was thinking, if Merlin had came back all this way just to try and convince him again that he thought his manservant was some assassin in disguise. What a stupid thought. If anything was an assassin, then it would be the stranger in their midst. Not the one guy Arthur was content to ignore as he ran amok to do his chores. Arthur would have thought even Merlin would have better things to do, was he not concerned about Gwen? Then started something over Morris again. "Is this about Morris again, and I swear, if you start that up agai…"

"It's not about Morris!" Merlin interrupted him long before Arthur had the chance to start some kind of long tirade about how irritating Merlin was. He was almost offended that Arthur thought he was really worried about Morris during a time like this, when he had Gwen to worry about. But this would also be the loudest Merlin had spoken since he'd entered the room, and he knew Arthur noticed this as well, if the slight widening of his eyes had been any indication. Merlin cursed himself internally, as he wondered what the hell he was even doing if he couldn't even manage to do this right. He couldn't allow himself to fail through this, couldn't allow for Arthur to mess him up again. Not when there was so little precious time left to spare, what, with the guards being on his tail and everything. So, Merlin cleared his throat and finally pushed himself off of the door, although he only walked as close as the long table meant for Arthur to eat at. Merlin wasn't ready to stand any closer to Arthur, and he wasn't stupid enough to think Arthur wouldn't try to use the opportunity to grab him up and start anything weird with him. "Although," he cleared his throat as he ran his fingers across the top of one of the chair's, and in any other situation between far two different people, it could have passed for sultry or seductive. "You will probably wish it was by the time I'm done."

Merlin could only imagine Arthur would be putting up one hell of a fight to deny everything he would be telling him. If Arthur couldn't believe someone he'd know for years, like his own servant, was able to be capable of something so horrible, then why would he believe a mythical creature had actually been summoned and was now the reason for their problems. But lives were on the line, and even the consort could recognize…there was no question if he had to weigh his own pride against the millions of lives on the line. So yeah, Merlin would have to do this. He would bite his lip in a shy manner, and he would smile charmingly at Arthur, and he would even try to will up the strength to laugh if the man tried to make a piss poor joke. Or whatever would be the equivalent to a joke in Arthur's own messed up vocabulary. For Gwen, he had to force himself to keep her in mind. As a reminder of why he was doing this, and how far he was willing to go just to save her. And if the price was a soul, and the little respect he still had for himself, well then…it really was no question at all.

"Well…isn't that just ominous." Arthur said slowly as he narrowed his eyes at Merlin, studying him in silent contemplation, even as his eyes would fall to watch Merlin's slim digits casually going down and up the side of his table chair, and fingers hooking over each little rail or decorative design that made it worthy to be sat upon by the Royal Prince. Now, say Arthur actually believed whatever Merlin was going off about….it wasn't about Morris, and there was Morgana hanging around somewhere, and he hadn't mentioned Gwen again so she might not be the main focus…Arthur was running out of options for what could have Merlin's panties all twisted up on him this time. But there was one thing he knew Merlin hated, "…It's not about Gregory again, right, because we've talked about him. Having the guard on you is non-negotiable. But as you seem to have taken on the habit of slipping away from him, you might be given a second guard in the near future. Unless you want to tell me how you keep getting away from him, so he can fix himself accordingly to stop your escapes…"

Arthur expected Merlin to start up his fighting with him again, knowing how much the other boy hated to be watched by his guard. He had made himself very clear on the matter the last time they fought against Gregory, but like he said, the guard wasn't going anywhere. Although, Arthur did have to ask himself why he was bothering to pay the other guy his wage out of Arthur's personal funds, if he was so incompetent at his job, leaving Merlin with the freedom to roam the castle as he pleased. He had been hoping to manage how much time the other boy spent in the open, but that plan had failed far before it could even begin. What Arthur couldn't have expected was for Merlin to laugh, and Arthur whipped his head up to look at Merlin with startled and wide eyes. Laughter…laughter was not apart of their relationship. It had never been, and being able to hear it now…Arthur was almost glad they'd never had laughter. Not if Merlin would sound so… constipated.

And Merlin didn't seem to notice Arthur looking at him strangely, because the consort was stretching his pale pink lips into a smile, "Of course I cannot tell you any of my secrets." Merlin said casually, as he treated Arthur's earlier words as nothing more than the light hearted joke he knew that definitely had not been. But this was all part of the act, this was Merlin trying to be soft and show amusement and act as if he was interested in whatever crap it was Arthur was spewing at him. But Merlin didn't think he could keep this up for long, being smart enough to recognize how epically messed up this was going to be should Arthur recognize he was being played with before they killed the beast. So, he opened his mouth, prepared to steer their talk to the beast, wanting to get it over and done with before he had to get desperate and ugh…maybe do some weird things to Arthur to get his full and undivided attention. Since Arthur seemed to like it, or maybe he just liked asserting his control over Merlin the only way he thought he could.

But then Merlin finally caught sight of Arthur, and his 'what the heck is happening right now' look on his face, and his words died off on his lips, before they had the chance to be born. There was a high flush forming above his cheekbones, his face was turning a dark red coloring that burned brighter in the flickering firelight. Fuck, fuck, fuck…he started to mentally panic, with his heart rate skyrocketing to what was probably dangerous levels. Could it be possible, that Merlin was such an utter fuckup, he couldn't even be nice to somebody without the fact being questioned or treated with suspicion or acted like the impossible had just happened. The consort was perfectly capable of being nice with people! It wasn't his fault that most people didn't deserve to be nice too! Merlin did try to shake off how much of a fool he felt like, and how stupid as he should have known this wouldn't work. He just had to…up his game. Give Arthur a reason not to suspect Merlin was trying to play him…

"I just mean…" Merlin stuttered, feeling his cheeks growing darker than even the color of his shirt was before he cleared his throat. "You want to keep a bit of the mystery alive, right? I can't exactly give away all my secrets, or you'd get bored with me, right?" And he pushed himself away from Arthur's table, feeling more stupider and vulnerable than he had been before, now that he didn't have the chair in the way to protect him. Not that he would need the protection! Merlin just felt…comfortable with the chair between them. But Merlin-with his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides-felt it might be the only way. If Merlin behaved opened to the prince, even if it was something as little as a chair obstacle being removed from their path, just maybe Arthur would do the same.

Arthur, who was now watching Merlin like one may watch a predator. A snake in the grass, or maybe how a rat would watch a snake starting to rear up before swallowing it hole, "I don't know about that one. Maybe things would make a bit more sense if you weren't always confusing me." He admitted to the consort slowly. Arthur might not understand a thing that had to do with Merlin, but even he could see this wasn't going like their fighting usually did. Usually, they were both so charged up and ready to have a go, there was practically lightning trying to come off of them as they went from pushing the other around-usually Arthur-to slinging around insults-usually Merlin. And this…this wasn't any of what they had been doing. Maybe they were both just tired of the endless fighting, or maybe it was just the calm before the storm. As everything that was happening with Gwen was starting to come to a close, the end of a chapter in a strange way, the two of them were even starting to become more melancholy. Arthur wasn't entirely sure if he liked that, this feeling where he didn't know what was going on right now…but he was sure it was all the other boy's fault. Even if he was right. Arthur may strongly dislike him but…he was never bored with Merlin around.

"Maybe I wouldn't confuse you," Merlin said slowly as he glanced away, landing his eyes on the floor so he could think properly. It was hard to think of anything when he was looking at Arthur, well other than how much he would love to strange him. How much he would love to use his own neckerchief on Arthur until he turned purple and blue, marks left behind on the flesh of his neck as the only sign of proof as to what he had done. Arthur would have deserved it, for reducing him to this pitiful mess of a person he'd turned into. The Merlin who lived in Ealdor would have never pretended to be another person just to make a guy happy with him. And it would sicken past Merlin, just like it was sickening himself. But…Gwen…he reminded himself for the umpteenth time, ducking his head down so that his bangs covered his eyes. "If you would bother to see with your eyes-"

Merlin stopped himself off before finishing with: instead of your arse. That wasn't the perfect and soft Merlin way he was trying to portray himself as. Those words would only come from the hard arse, who laughed in the face of people who had thought they were better than him. Who couldn't help but wonder what was wrong with people who treated their friends and neighbors as if they were problems. Those words would have came from the guy who would boldly ask someone how had the nobles gotten the reputation as people who were suppose to help those in their districts, when not one would do anything more than snuff their nose in the air with disgust. But the few words he'd told Arthur…had been real. Probably the realest he had been with Arthur since he first entered inside the prince's bedchambers. And it still didn't make him feel any better, knowing he would have to do one really big thing, something that would have sealed the deal in a way he hadn't yet. Though what that was…Merlin was drawing to a blank, and bit down on his lip, looking shy while he was trying to hide his panic behind it. Because Arthur didn't want to have him real, and Arthur would never follow him if he wasn't what he wanted. And…Gwen…

"See with my eyes?" Arthur repeated, shaking his head again. He…Merlin was behaving far stranger than just 'tired and melancholy', feeling his brows connecting in the center of his forehead. And he might have said he was getting concerned-Merlin had never acted…shy…in his presence before, and it was almost disconcerting-but princes definitely didn't get concerned over brats. So, even if Merlin was looking like innocence incarnated, and he was now wrapping his arms loosely around his belly as if to hide himself from Arthur's penetrating gaze, Arthur dismissed it. It didn't matter if Merlin's odd behavior sent his senses into a tailspin and made him want to demand what was up, a prince didn't bother and had so many responsibilities to worry about, his consort wasn't even on the list of things he needed to do. "The only thing I see is the need to give you two guards instead of one. I'm positive you won't be able to escape the both of them, and I'm sure even you won't get too bored, taking the time to plan your escape attempts and all. There," Arthur looked pleased with himself and waved one smile drdismissive hand at Merlin, purposely wanting him riled up. Even if they were fighting, at least all this melancholy would end. "That's exactly what I'll do, and you can stop all of this-" he waved a finger in-between them to indicate whatever was going on right now. "Because you'll be too busy with that, and will be forced to stop whatever your trying to start. And I won't be dragged down along with it."

Arthur thought this was a grand idea-maybe he'd up it to five or six if this proved to be needed-and he could almost feel himself drowning within all of those thoughts. A world where his life wasn't one interruption after another, with Merlin somehow in the middle of it all. A life where he wouldn't have Merlin in front of him right now, trying once again to cause him distraction. And once Merlin got riled up, proving that this weird behavior had only been his mental affliction affection him again, he could send him on his way. Maybe direct him down one path that wouldn't send him straight into Gwen's pyre…but that would be as far as his mercy would extend. If Merlin wanted to be weird, then he was able to be weird somewhere else. Besides, Merlin could be a slippery fella but not even he would've been able to slip a platoon of knights. Only getting a group of the best knights would be good enough to keep a wayward consort in his place.

"You do know I don't go out of my way to bother you, right?" Merlin asked slowly, making sure to keep an eye on his words, something the old him wouldn't have bothered to do. But he didn't want to give Arthur anymore ammunition the prince was able to use against him. Merlin's chest felt tight as an anger built up, but an anger he refused to allow out, wanting to tell Arthur exactly where he could stick himself and his five knights. But he had to be careful not to say too much. If he started ranting at him, it was quite possible that Merlin would let loose how he was getting in and out of him room undetected. He knew Arthur really did think Merlin had nothing better to do than ruin his life, but that prince had already taken so much from him. He'd taken his home, and his family, and the only life he knew, and even his freedom. But Merlin refused-even this meek persona he was trying and failing to project refused to-allow Arthur to take away his moments of sanctuary. Besides. Merlin had never not once, left behind his guard because he'd been simply 'bored'. How many times had Merlin endure the knight following him around the castle before he started sneaking out on a more regular basis. But just knowing Gregory was outside his door at all hours of the day, made him want to scratch his face off. And then hang it onto Arthur's doorknob so he'll see it the next morning, just to let Arthur know how serious everything he had done to Merlin was. Even now, Merlin felt the inch under his skin, an itch he had no chance of being able to scratch better. "Or who knows, you might really think I do…"

Because only Arthur would be so self-absorbed in his own self, it wasn't possible for Merlin to have a life outside of him. Merlin wanted to go for a walk around the village, clearly it was because he was wanting to stalk Arthur and track him down. Merlin wanted to make himself a sandwich, clearly it was an evil plan for Merlin to use this sandwich as one of his means of getting Arthur's attention. But how a simple sandwich could do such a thing would be a mystery to Merlin. Maybe Arthur would come up with something stupid, like Merlin purposely trying to choke himself so Arthur would come running to his rescue or some shit like that. It just couldn't be a sandwich in Arthur's bloody eyes! There always had be some kind of alternative reasoning, a nasty one usually, for what Merlin did in his eyes. But he couldn't say those things. He had to breath so he could remain calm, and he had to smile like Merlin was trying to do now. Merlin had to be pretty, and be helpful, and be kind….he had to try and take a bit of the bite out of his earlier words, make sure it was something that could be brushed aside. After all, the guards-who were probably going to kill him once he was caught in their precious prince's own bed chambers-had nothing to do with Gwen at the moment. He shouldn't show anger, or any kind of upset that they were being included in this whole awful conversation. And he hadn't even gotten the chance to explain why he was really here yet!

"Yeah, well, you really could have fooled me with your outrageous behavior." Arthur said, with deep agitation as he watched Merlin's face smoothing over, not reacting to Arthur or his half-aggressive tone. Because surely Merlin had known coming to him wasn't the smartest idea. No matter how the prince wanted to do what his father told him, and make nice with the boy, maybe throw him a bone and allow Merlin to get whatever it was that had brought him here-of all places-off his chest. But it wasn't something Arthur cared to do either, as the prince realized grudgingly when he saw Merlin not rising to the bait. But…it was like a little torch had just went off in his head as Arthur was struck with an idea. Now, it might not do anything to help with whatever had brought Merlin to his doorstep, but it might at least get him out of his room. The brat was bad enough on a normal day, but with his this weird…Arthur didn't even want to look at him if he wasn't going to act as Arthur had come to expect him too. Which was basically…actually outrageous behavior, where Arthur didn't know what he would scream at him next, leaving it near impossible for him to anticipate what would be happening next to have him act accordingly. "But you know what, I think I know exactly what you need."

And Merlin's head whipped up so fast, he could've felt his neck cracking, his false smile dropping in an instant, "You do?" He echoed, eyes going wide in surprise. Maybe Arthur was smarter than Merlin thought he was, and had somehow guessed what was going on? Although, it would've been a bit of a long shot considering how out there it truly was, but that didn't stop Merlin from hoping. Looking at the prince with his wide eyes, and for a single, hot second there, Merlin thought things were going to work out. If Arthur had something on hand that he thought his consort would need-although he was sure whatever Arthur had wouldn't exactly be able to take out an afanc, not since the elements were needed to do that-maybe the prince had already figured it out on his own? Somehow…Merlin's own hope didn't even diminish when he saw the blond walking back around to the other side of his desk, following him with eager eyes. Because everything was going to go so much smoother if it turned out Arthur already knew, and Merlin didn't have to go wasting time trying to convince him what he said was the truth. Although Merlin didn't know why he had yet to do anything if he knew about the beast in their waters…Merlin was just too fucking glad to be able to put his little failed charade behind him, not needing it if Arthur was gonna grab whatever and then come with. Maybe some kind of strange weapon he thought was capable of taking out the beast…?

"Of course I do!" The prince said gruffly, looking up at Merlin annoyed, before looking back down at what he was doing. He should probably say more to Merlin about his attitude, what right did the boy have to act as if Arthur giving him something was a treat? Obviously, this was his mental affliction on the fritz again, and it explained why Merlin never seemed to understand how Arthur could give him whatever he wanted when he wanted. Merlin was probably still thinking Arthur couldn't afford his up keep, which was exactly what Merlin had thought when Arthur had caught him job hunting. He did have something on hand though, that could most likely clear up that little misconception. So, Arthur ignored Merlin who was starting to drift closer to the desk as Arthur started digging through one of his drawers, bending down low so his head almost fit inside of it. "Now, I know you won't be able to use it right away, but it's definitely something you can use later on. Especially once things can start to settle down after this sickness has passed-" he muttered, not looking up as he pushed past spare pieces of parchment and extra quills and pins and stamps and other odds and ends he had stored in this one drawer.

Merlin wasn't entirely sure what he meant by this, cautiously drifting closer towards the desk to try and see what Arthur was digging for. But he could have told Arthur nothing he gave him-shouldn't he be worried more about the beast and not trying to give him some kind of trinket of a sort? Unless this was a magical trinket that could replicate some of the effects of elemental magic, something even a non magical like Arthur could use. But Merlin was not able to see the prince going against the laws of his own kingdom, not even to stop the beast as it wrecked havoc on his home-would be anything he would use. There was only one thing he would be doing after everything was said and done, and that wasn't using whatever trinket it was that was able to fit in that drawer. But it did include having a very restful sleep in his bed over the next days, recovering after the stressful week and ordeal he had been living in.

But for the moment, Merlin could play nice with the prince, coming to a stop on the other side of the desk, the closest he'd been to Arthur since he had got here, "What is it?" He asked, trying to get a peek over the desk. Maybe he didn't have to go the extra mile and play himself as the meek, little coward like he'd been doing. He didn't have to be soft and sweet and speak only when he had been spoken too, showing only the utmost respect for the prince-even if he had failed in that regard. But this was probably the nicest thing Arthur's done since they've met! So, Merlin could humor what it was the prince was doing, and then Arthur would come with him! He was honestly surprised, even if things had been awkward and tense and unsure or even downright uncomfortable when he had first arrived, that things were going alright now. For the first time in-Merlin didn't know if there had ever been a first time, honestly-they weren't fighting. It was…peaceful.

And Merlin forced his tensed shoulders to relax as he saw the prince glance up at him, before going back to his digging, "Well, I just figured, this could be something useful for you to have once the city opens up afterwards. But, I do warn you now-" he made more rustling sounds as one of his of those many important Royal documents fell out and was slowly drifting to the floor. Merlin watched it fall as he wasn't surprised when Arthur didn't bend backdown to pick up such an important looking piece of parchment. Somebody like Arthur probably had to deal with things like that everyday, and wouldn't need to stop and think over rather or not this was a waste of paper. Ealdor didn't have an abundance of paper to use whenever they wanted, they might only get a roll of spare parchment once a year and only when one of the men rode to the next largest village, which could easily be a good five or so day ride. Only if the whether was good though. But as the prince continued talking, Merlin made sure to plaster a smile on his face-even if it looked to be a bit more fixated than it had been before. He didn't want to start another fight over something like one piece of abandoned parchment, since it seemed to be such a small matter compared to the bigger crisis going on, "There will be some conditions for me giving you this."

…Conditions, Merlin thought with that dumb smile on his face-more fixated than it had been even in the minutes before-keeping his hands tucked into place behind his back like someone proper might do when addressing their prince. He wasn't sure if he liked the idea of…conditions…exactly what kind of trinket was Arthur giving him that would come with strings attached. He really hoped it wouldn't end up being some kind of demented gift, even if the idea of Arthur giving him a 'gift' sounded like it was far-fetched, not even in the realm of Merlin's possibility. But the digging, and the stalling he was doing instead of just coming along with Merlin and the…conditions…Arthur wanted him to apparently adhere by. This was sounding less and less than a magical item that could help the non-magical man to destroy an afanc. And more like something that he didn't want to know. Knowing Arthur though, it probably wasn't going to be pleasant conditions. It could end up with Merlin swearing his fealty to his future leadership, or Arthur might insist on Merlin becoming his lifetime servant rather this his actual consort, or…might want Merlin to walk throughout the lower town in nothing but his underwear! Just one more thing Arthur could do one of his ultimate power trips. The only question was whether or not he would be willing to do even the most crazy and outrageous, and probably more than borderline on the painful side, requests. Or if he would have no choice but to tell Arthur to screw off, before he'd have to explain to Morgana how he was right. This really was a bad idea, sending him instead of their original plan of Morgana being the one to have to deal with all of this.

"…What kind of conditions?" Merlin asked, keeping his voice more demure than he would like. Just on the off chance he was completely wrong about all of this. Merlin didn't want to risk breaking his little act of reverence, and obedience he was trying to uphold, too soon. And completely ruin everything he'd done since realizing he might have to see the prince before the day was over. He would try and do the smart thing, by hearing Arthur out, before he decided whether or not it was best to throw it back in his face.

And Arthur's features suddenly seemed to shift as he apparently found what he was looking for, that look of triumph couldn't have been anything else. Merlin could feel his stomach twisting with sudden anxious nerves-panicked, not butterflies roaring in his belly, but more like roiling snakes twisting with harsh abandonment in his belly-he could almost feel sick with it. Merlin did a surprisingly good job at keeping those emotions away from his smooth, blank face. If Arthur thought Merlin's sudden quiet was anything to be concerned about, he kept it to himself as he pushed away from the desk. Merlin wasn't able to see what he had though, something small enough to fit within the palm of his hand but was also hidden behind his back as he pushed his desk drawer in. The drawer able to slide smoothly, without anything to hinder the movement like the one Merlin and his mother had. Where he had to constantly jerk and pull at the mechanisms until it finally gave, and he was able to shove the drawer itself back into the slot.

"Well," Arthur said smoothly, walking to the corner of his desk, leaning against it so he was seated on the edge, fingers tightening and loosening around the object in his hand. He had known he kept one spare hidden away in his desk. One spare he did not really need, but like his father said, there was no excuse for not being prepared for the worse case scenario. Even if being prepared could have been seen as paranoia. "The first condition is you swearing-"

And Merlin squeezed his eyes shut, the dread was coming in full force when he heard this. Merlin just knew Arthur was about to have him swear fealty to him. He would have to get on his knees in front of the prince, bow his head down like the submissive he knew he was most definitely not. And then the prince would expect for Merlin to make an oath he was pretty sure was as solid and as binding as his own fragile marriage vows had been. And already, the sorcerer could feel his knees starting to shake, mentally preparing himself for whoring himself out to the prince. As strange as Merlin still found that wording when in reference to a man, this seemed to be the only word he could think of…a whore to the prince. Forced into situations he didn't want to be in, but made to act for the enjoyment of a man who thought him to be amusing enough to keep him entertained.

"To leave me out of whatever you're here for." The prince continued on, pretending not to notice the consort taking a startled step back. Arthur found himself frowning inwardly, irrationally agitated as he hadn't even done anything that could make the consort step back. Arthur hadn't yet grabbed him to force Merlin to make amends to him somehow-the way he had left the last time had actually been really unacceptable in Arthur's eyes. And he found he'd spent far too much time worrying over it past the last few hours-stressing himself over rather or not Merlin would actually keep to his words of 'not coming back here' again. Stressing out because it was only a matter of time before Uther realized he had entertained Clarissa, and surely things could only get worse if Merlin carried on with having this standoffish attitude towards him in a more public setting.

But things seemed to be going so well for the time being. Nobody had started yelling around towards the other, nobody had started cursing up a storm in response to something Arthur had said casually. It was peaceful, the crackling of the fireplace even seemed to respond to it, almost growing in size as it's light made shadows dance across the walls of the room. Arthur could almost get used to having this peace, ready to sink into the warmth coming from the flames, he wouldn't even mind if Merlin decided to take up a more permanent residence at his side if Merlin would sit there quietly like he was doing now. Staring into space, lost inside of his own thoughts as he stared lifelessly at the wall until Arthur had need of him. Like a useless lump, nothing more than a doll who waited until Arthur gave him some command or other to do, and then watch as Merlin did it perfectly.

…Arthur hated it.

It was too quiet, too annoying in what seemed like an entirely different way from the normal annoying he would get from Merlin. Hearing nothing but the flames seemed to grate on his nerves, and set his teeth on edge when Merlin didn't just immediately jump on him for his earlier words. They had a lack of…fire…between them, making Arthur see this as nothing more than him seeing a very boring night ahead of him. Since he had refused to partake in Gwen's execution more than he had too, and even just looking over his maps and marking off all the areas that had already been checked over would be nothing more than a formality. Just something he could do to keep himself busy, and his mind off of what was going on outside. But good god, what good was Merlin if not even the mouthiest brat he had ever met was able to give himself something major to distract himself with.

"And second, you need to stop dragging me into all of your drama." Arthur declared, while shooting the other boy a scowl. Even having Merlin blubber and admit he needed Arthur to comfort him so he could have somebody to cry too about Gwen was the preferred option to the quietness that he was met with. The loud sobbing would've at least gave something to the room-something for the prince to be panicked about considering he didn't know how to handle the crying. But even Merlin going off his rocker would have been the best, yelling or screaming his head off at him as if it was Arthur's fault Gwen was in this situation. Arthur wasn't the one who told Gwen to play with forces she could not possibly understand. And Arthur hadn't been the one to tell Gwen to do all of the other choices she'd made-like returning to work the very next day as if nothing had happened-who did that? Did she not think somebody would eventually wonder about the state of her father, or how he hadn't fail prey to the sickness yet? And Merlin still wouldn't say anything, and Arthur rolled his eyes-yeah, he knew there was no point in Merlin being here if he was just gonna stand there and stare him down in that stupid manner of his.

Deciding he was done already, and had absolutely no time to deal with Merlin and his incompetence-even if he wasn't really doing anything other than trying to waste his own time anyway-Arthur made to slide off the edge of the desk so he could stand up straight. "Now, I know you already told me that you don't like this stuff-" probably one of the few times he had actually listened to something Merlin had said..kinda. "But I've decided this just wasn't possible because who doesn't like it? But since I am thinking about it now, I'm pretty sure that was nothing more than a pretty lie to grab my attention the way you wanted it."

Because that would be just like Merlin, wanting to trick him into thinking he wasn't anything like any other person out there. He had probably involved himself purposely with everything that been going on just to get Arthur's attention. But if the way the consort was acting now was how he usually acted, then Merlin had to be the most boring person the prince had the misfortune to meet. And Arthur did not even want to look at Merlin anymore, he didn't want him in his sight or in his vicinity. Normally, he didn't want Merlin around, that was nothing but a fact of life. But this was something different in its entirety. This wasn't the normal spitfire where the prince felt confident in throwing Merlin out on his arse, knowing the other boy would come back at some point just to bother him more. This would be more like Morris, somebody Arthur was dismissive of but wouldn't really care either way whether he came back or not. Servants were a dime a dozen in his world, and could be far easier to get himself a replacement servant rather than getting himself a new consort. Finding a new consort would have been the easiest part, it would be the celebration and the wedding and the planning and everything that came afterwards, plus the actual living for the rest of their lives together, that would have been the worse of it all. Either way, Arthur wanted this weird quiet Merlin out of his sight.

Before Merlin had the chance to protest, the blond was snatching up his wrist and pulling it up so the palm was facing up. "Here," Arthur said, dropping something round and heavy into his hand, making the consort curl his fingers around it before it had the chance to escape his grasp. "This is my own gift to you, you can do the proper thing later, and spend it on something pretty to make yourself feel better after Gwen." And then Arthur was gone and turning his back to Merlin, dismissive him as if the other boy really was nothing more than a one in a dozen servant, able to be used and discarded with his command. Going back to his maps and picking up his quill, eloquently dipping the pointed tip into the ink without leaving any dark splotches or trails of ink in his wake in the way only someone of high birth and extensive training could do. The consort would have left more ink on his fingers instead of the paper itself.

The Consort, who didn't acknowledge Arthur was leaving his side, and could only stare down at the large pouch situated in the palm of his hand. And Merlin could only assume it was filled with golden coins, considering the light tinkling sounds they'd made as they clang together under the movement of his fingers. That was definitely not something capable of summoning elemental magic, nor was it something that could be used to even bribe for Gwen's freedom. It was more money than Merlin would have known what to do with, having never seen so much in his life. It was far more than what Merlin had arrived with in his pockets, and could have easily replaced the little chest of his Arthur had destroyed days ago. Plus, all of the items he had inside of it, and Merlin would have enough left over to buy even more. His own mouthed would've had to work for over a decade just to save up just a fraction of what was now in his hand. A fraction of what Arthur had so casually thrown in his own direction as if it was worthless, easy, to give away enough gold that could feed an entire family for a few years…

Merlin would be the last person in the world to try and tell somebody what they should spend their own money on. Frankly, it wasn't any business of his what people wanted to buy-wasn't he the boy who had spent the last of his silver pieces over a bunch of little items he only had in his possession for a few hours?-but it became his business when it was He Arthur was trying to buy. Like Merlin was really nothing more than his whore, or even one of the many gold diggers trying to vie for Arthur and his attentions. Arthur paying Merlin to go away, his weight literally in gold in his hand, sent a spark of flames inside of him. Something that rested inside of him, but dormant as Merlin pushed it down, had roared to life. His magic suddenly seemed restless under his veins, he could very clearly feel all of the strands of his magic trying to rise up after Arthur's insult of him. Arthur never saw Merlin's hand when it tightened around the pouch as if it was a ball, as the gold coins seemed to poke through the pouch and cut into his hand.

But he sure as hell was no longer ignoring Merlin after something in him seemed to snap-whore, he was a whore…but no…Merlin would be nobody's whore, not even for his own husband. He'd been able to get on his knees and swear fealty to a man who thought he could be bought, and sold, used or discarded at his will. And Merlin would not live with Arthur thinking him anything less than what he was, even if Merlin himself still had issues with balancing a consort title and peasant upbringing-and the back of coins hit Arthur straight into the back of his blonde head, the smacking sound was hard enough to echo throughout the room.

"MOTHER-" Arthur seemed to have lost control of his tongue, bringing his hand up to grab onto the back of his head, staggering forward and leaning onto the desk in his surprise. The coins fell to the ground, the pouch loosening and dozens of gold coins spilled out among the floor. But neither man paid any attention to the coins, as Arthur whipped around so fast, his own eyes like fire as he looked at his consort in disbelief. "What the bloody hell is wrong with you!" Arthur screamed at Merlin, while bringing his hand down from his aching head to get a good look at his fingers. He felt it was some kind of miracle when he didn't see blood coating along his fingertips, the back of his head throbbed and it felt as if he had just gotten hit in the back of his head with a mallet. He had never 'not once' in his entire life, been attacked from behind like that. Not unless it was gram an actual enemy and he'd found himself in a fight for his life. Which, is why he had not been expecting such a reaction from the consort.

"I don't NEED your damn money!" Merlin ended up all but bellowing in Arthur's face, his own face going red to indicate how angry he was. He didn't care anymore about all of the things he had been insistent on earlier. Merlin didn't want to be soft or demure, or anything in the world Arthur would've wanted him to be. He wanted to feel the fire while it coursed under his skin, the heat that urged him to treat his relationship like the combat fight it had always been. Merlin had already tried going about it one way, he had been perfect with his demeanor by trying to emulate the nobles he'd seen around the castle at one point or the other. But it hadn't worked, nothing he did had endured Arthur onto his side of things. In fact, Arthur was sending him away! Like a good-for-nothing…Merlin didn't even want to finish the sentence anymore. "I'm not here because I want your bloody gold! What is it about that, that you find so complicated to understand! Or do I have to start spelling things out for you to get it though your bloody head!"

Arthur narrowed his eyes sharply at the other boy, while almost forgetting that this reaction had been exactly what he wanted. Maybe not with the gold on the floor between them, shimmering under the firelight, but the room didn't seem to quiet and nor was it peaceful anymore. In sharp contrast when it was compared to before, the temperature seemed to have risen in response to their anger, "I was just trying to give you something that would take your mind off of Guinevere." Arthur hissed, snarling at his consort with harsh abandonment. Arthur had thought he was being generous and kind, clearly the idiot of a boy was going through a rough time if he was actually being quieter for once. Even if it could be misconstructed as another attempt from the prince to prove to his own consort how he had enough at his disposal to provide. Or even another attempt to get Merlin out of his face. But he didn't exactly know what Merlin needed to jumpstart his 'healing process' if that was what one would want to call it.

"You call this-" Merlin hissed through his equally gritted teeth, and gestured down at the gold coins with angry hand motions. "Getting my mind off of Gwen?" If anything, those coins were nothing but a huge reminder of Gwen. Because the young girl would never be allowed to spend that kind of gold on just herself. She would most likely not be able to save that much on her own, even when she had managed to obtain probably one of the better paid jobs a servant could hope to get. If anything, there shouldn't be a question about it. Merlin should be able to scoop up those coins and start shoving all he could manage into his pockets to pass along to Gwen for all of the pain and suffering she had to endure because of Arthur's fool head, who would be content to see an innocent die just because he couldn't be bothered to do any kind of actual hard investigation into this crime.

"Actually," Arthur snarled back, bringing one of his hands up to gingerly prod at the bruising forming on the back of the head where the coins had got him. He could feel his blood pulsing in his ears, as his anger rose up so suddenly it nearly engulfed him in it's flames. He wanted to take Merlin before shaking him so hard his teeth would rattle, unable to decide which one was worse. This quiet Merlin he'd been before, or the one that could control the button on his temper in a heartbeat. But between the two versions, neither one seemed to make the prince happy, and he wanted to be brave enough-like Merlin had been when he'd fought for Gwen even if it had been more stupid than anything else to march up to his father and demand for there to be done. There had to be something that must've been overlooked, some kind of loophole hidden in the words that could have their marriage annulled without Arthur using the kingdom. There just had to be…something. "I did."

Arthur could be a reasonable guy, and he knew it was Gwen's execution causing Merlin to show up and read his ugly head now. Arthur didn't exactly know how Merlin felt, considering the only person in his life he'd ever lost was his mother. Someone he was actually close too, considering he'd seen a few knights die here and there during combat or otherwise. But his mother had also passed away in childbirth, he had been far too young to be able to understand what was happening, and by the time he was older, it was just a fact of his life. A thing to feel sorry about, but only because he hadn't ever known her, and he wondered rather or not she had liked the man he had became. But those aches or mental wounds were old scars on his heart, and it was no point in feeling pain or thinking too much on something that happened years ago. The other consort had his own scars now as well, fresher as the pyre was being prepared to be lit. But the girl had only been a friend, a poor one Arthur wouldn't ever approve of. It wasn't as if they were about to prepare a funeral march for a member of Merlin's family. But that didn't give Merlin any excuse with throwing his generosity right back in his face. He had read between the lines! He figured out Merlin was just stubborn and didn't want to need Arthur or his gold! So Arthur had just given him the bag, under the disguise of finding something that was able to distract him from Gwen. Like a shopping trip. Apparently Merlin was the only person in the entire kingdom who would take offense to Arthur paying for their shopping-he had the bruised head as testimony to how offended Merlin was.

Merlin, who was heaving so hard his chest would go up and down in response, threw his arm out to the side, "Well, this might be hard for your little bit of a pea brain to understand, but I came here for a reason! Like I told you! And it has absolutely not a thing to do with Gregory, or with gold, or even has nothing to do with whatever next is about to spew out your mouth, I could tell you that here and now before you even open your damn mouth!" And as he finished his bellowing, Merlin could feel a sick sense of satisfaction fueling him, his magic licking at his veins in amusement as he saw Arthur rub at the back of his head in pain. Good, the sorcerer in training, thought spitefully. He wanted it to hurt in a way Arthur had always hurt him. A brief physical reminder for the next few minutes that was never going to compare to the aching form always deep in his chest. Merlin definitely had his demons that needed to be fought through, and most of them nowadays seemed to be born from Arthur and his raging fits. But the demons casting shadows onto his mind couldn't be fought off with a sword…

And Arthur didn't know rather to laugh or scream some more at this, thinking how bloody lucky the consort was that it was Arthur he was married to and not someone like Sir Darren who hadn't made a trip to the castle since they were nineteen. That man would have had Merlin fitted for a golden ring to fit into his mouth, something that was meant to be inspired from some barbaric contraption, and it slid neatly behind the teeth to force the jaw open for some inconceivable amount of time. Arthur, on the other hand, only wanted to whip Merlin's own backside into shape…bloody…which would have to be considered something completely different far nicer as those wounds would heal once the blond was finished with his punishment. But Arthur was brain dead in the clearest sense, and would refuse to learn from his mistakes. Instead of simply trying to ask Merlin what his problem was, and would be willing to listen to the actual answer, he decided to do the dumb thing and came up with his very own reasonings once again, "I swear, if you decided to come all this way to start bitching at me again for Lady Clarissa's presence, I am going to lose it on you, Merlin. And I will not be help responsible for my actions!" Because of course Merlin would want to be a total girl about all of this, and was going to try and force Arthur into 'talking about it'.

It was such a turn around, only earlier Arthur had been much more fearful of the repercussions that could follow his apparent 'affair'. He was waiting still for his father to figure it out and tear into him for it, but who knows if he actually would-Arthur thought with a sudden surge of bravado shooting through him. After all, the king still hadn't figured out Arthur lied about bedding his husband, whose to say he would learn of what had happened here in his bed chambers, or that Merlin had caught him in a compromising situation. It had definitely felt embarrassing for all of the parties involved but the prince felt more sorry for Clarissa. She hadn't asked to get involved with his life, things had just gotten out of hand so quickly. And it was up to the prince to put Merlin in his place. But he'd thought of doing something to Merlin so many times in the past week or so alone, awful things that involved whips and chains were his favorite punishment of choice. But obviously, those were things that not even he could do by crossing over that very clear and very distinct line that had been drawn into the sand at some point between the two of them. But he wasn't wrong either, Arthur to do something to get his message across, because he really would lose it if Merlin came here only to start bitching at him as he tried to rehash and bring that issue into the light again. Arthur should be doing whatever it was he could to reassure Merlin the other woman had meant nothing to him, and maybe they could start trying to seriously work through their issues as soon as everything with the handmaiden was finished with. But Arthur honestly didn't want too, and Merlin was smarter than that. Even he would have seen it being nothing but a ploy from Arthur to get him out of his room. But then again…if the prince wanted him out of his room so badly, why didn't he just grab Merlin by the crook of his own elbow and then drag him out to the door. He had thrown him out before, that night on their wedding when Arthur was supposed to bed him…so what was so wrong with doing it now. The idea looked to be more and more tantalizing, if he couldn't do any of the other things he wanted, and avoiding the next fight would look like a godsend at this point in time.

Merlin apparently didn't give a damn about Arthur or what he wouldn't take responsibility for-he was already not taking responsibilities for his actions with Clarissa-and boldly taking a step forward as he threw both of his arms out, "For crying out loud already!" Merlin practically bellowed, and it would only be luck that they were on this floor alone, as he had been so loud that others could have heard him through the thick stone walls of the prince's chambers. "I didn't come here because of some floozy you decided to take on! It's got nothing to do with her!" Merlin could feel his frustration when it tried to take over him, trying to control his action by beating some literal sense into Arthur's thickly made head. And they were close again, as Merlin refused to step back like the dainty character he'd been trying and epically failed doing just moments before, so all it would take was Merlin jamming up his knee and ramming it hard into Arthur's private area again. Because by god, what did it take just to be head around here. Merlin was half tempted to stand on top of Arthur's desk and start kicking all his fancy maps and papers onto the ground just to get some bloody attention around here.

It wouldn't be the kind of attention he wanted, as he was pretty sure it would do nothing but make him look like a deranged lunatic. But hey, Merlin figured it wouldn't make him look any worse than he already was. If yelling didn't get the message across, if trying to behave as sweet and as docile as a newborn babe didn't get anything through to the prince, than maybe purposely destroying his belongings would. It wouldn't be like when Merlin and Arthur had both destroyed the room while the two of them had been running around and Merlin had been trying to escape Arthur's grasp. It would be Merlin, causing destruction after destruction as he took pleasure in destroying one piece after the next he could get his hands on. Not even the other guy grabbing him would be enough to force him to stop his vengeance against the prince. And finally, Arthur would be the one to have to figure out how to start over with absolutely nothing. Just like the sorcerer had to when he came here…

And then Arthur attacked him.

Merlin snarled, almost like a rabid dog when that bloody prince grabbed him by his upper arms and jerked him forward, shaking him so hard his head was flung back and forth while he left indents into the pliant skin of his arms, "Don't go calling ladies a floozy! Do you have absolutely no respect to the social order of things!" He practically bellowed at Merlin's face. Arthur wouldn't exactly say he knew what a floozy was, but it could very well be one of the many peasant expressions that were uncouth for a Royal such as himself to use. Or for all Arthur knew, it was something he had made up himself in this fight right now. But Arthur could put together the pieces and see it was meant to be some kind of insult to a generous lady. The way Merlin was acting made it seem as if Arthur had committed a crime just for forgetting he was married for all of five minutes. Arthur wasn't the only noble among the dozens who had their head turned because of a pretty face. Arthur only had the most to lose if it escalated to unimaginable levels.

"Yeah, right!" Merlin snarled right back in his face, and tried to jerk himself free. But Arthur's grip was as unrelenting as it always was, and no matter just how hard he jerked and pulled or tried to throw his body down to the ground to force Arthur to let go because of his dead body weight, the prince was able to counteract each move, jerking him back in front of him. This was something that only fueled Merlin's rage, and there was blood rushing so hard inside his ears he couldn't hear anything over the pounding in his head. He was going to end up with a heart attack because this much sudden anger in him should not be a healthy thing. But Merlin was not going to let that stop him from thrashing wildly in Arthur's grip, looking more like a mad person in the making, rather than the calm and rational one in the relationship. "I'm gonna show some bloody respect to the woman who spent her afternoon on a mission to climb my husband like a tree! You say I have no shame? What do you say about the bitch whose not even embarrassed by being a fucking cheater!"

And Arthur could have sworn he had just seen the edges of his vision turning red, bleeding in its own way across Merlin's face. "You, do not get to call a lady a bitch!" He screamed back, jerking Merlin up by his biceps so their faces were two inches away from the other, noses banging painfully against its opponent, but neither man yelped in response, as they refused to give the other that kind of horrible satisfaction. Arthur didn't even care about all that much about Clarissa on a personal level, but it did not mean he was going to allow Merlin to go along with tarnishing her good name. Arthur would have reacted with the same anger if Merlin had shown a disrespectful tongue to any other member of their court. If Merlin could quite easily throw whatever it was that had happened in front of his face while in the privacy of his own room, whose to stop Merlin from doing it in public just to get back at him. This needed to be nipped in the bud, it should've been before Arthur had ever allowed Merlin to leave his room when it first happened. But Arthur had allow himself to get distracted with Merlin's unfounded accusations against Morris.

"Oh, I'm so sorry." Merlin snarled sarcastically into Arthur's face, eyes bearing up darkly into Arthur's own. He tried to jerk his arms free once again but Arthur only tightened his grip in response, and the consort could feel his blood as it started to boil in his veins. This reminded Merlin of all the times he had gotten pinned down by Arthur, all of the times he would try to do weird things to him or the times he purposely tried to make him uncomfortable. He wasn't in the exact positioning as the prince didn't hold him down onto the first flat surface he'd been able to find, but it was close enough. And this only reminded Merlin of the little vow he had made for himself, to never allow Arthur to treat him like this again. To never be treated as if he was nothing but a toy for Arthur to move around-the giant movable living doll meant for the prince's entertainment as he gave little to no care about what Merlin thought on the arrangement. "Did I insult your girlfriend?"

And then Merlin attacked, the only way he knew how to, ramming his knee up as hard as he could while aiming for Arthur'a soft spot. After all, it was how Merlin had escaped his clutches the last time they had been in this situation, when Arthur took his pleasure by throwing him against the pillar just out of view from the council members. If the dirty trick worked once, whose to day it wouldn't have worked again. Unfortunately, Arthur actually had a brain-little as he used it when face to face against his consort-and remembered just how painful that hit had been to his groin. Arthur jerked his knee up just before Merlin's could connect-already he was able to feel his groin shrinking and trying to crawl into his body if the hit had landed-and their knees gnashed against the other quiet painfully.

Arthur snarled, and jerked Merlin around, unable to contain his brewing anger as his consort's feet came off the floor, before landing painfully in front of the desk. So hard, Merlin's knees almost came undone and buckled, only Arthur's grip firm on his biceps kept him from falling. "Lady Clarissa is not my girlfriend!" Arthur shouted at him, taking great offense to this sarcastic quip. Arthur could afford a lot of things, but he could not afford to have his consort going around sprouting that horrible kind of nonsense, using that word and getting people like his father up in arms over something when he and Merlin both knew nothing had happened with him and Clarissa. Arthur caught sight of the desk, only a few inches behind Merlin's back now, and he seemed to have a sudden realization striking him out of the blue.

Arthur, for so many weeks and for so many times in this past couple of days alone, had considered how he would want to punish Merlin. And while he had a hiccup at one point, where he'd came close to taking off his own belt and skipping right past the 'first time so be gentle' phrase and was more interested in going to town on someone who very much needed the proper discipline. But he'd never actually went through with something he couldn't go back from. But who the hell cared rather or not Merlin 'wanted' him to do it, was that not the point of a punishment? Because these awful, horrible no good troublemakers deserved to get whipped into shape. Arthur didn't have to be rough and crass to Merlin, he didn't even need to jerk the boy's pants to his knees so he couldn't hide from him, nor did he have to watch the welts as they formed across his backside. Arthur only needed to push Merlin to lay on his belly across the desk's surface, and give him one or two firm smacks on his backside-very much closed-as a warning. Merlin was his bloody husband, and it was Arthur's right as the dominate partner-the role automatically given to him by his superior birthright-to dole out whatever horrible punishment he wanted. Besides, the prince got hit with another sudden thought that would spurn on his next actions, his father wouldn't have much of a chance to rip into him if Arthur had already been able to teach his consort the meaning of what the proper discretion was. Which would be perfect, as this would prove Arthur was the one in charge, the prince wouldn't find anything more embarrassing than his father deeming Arthur unable to take the proper responsibility for his consort and trying to take command of Merlin himself.

"Really? I suppose you could understand just how confused I was. What, with the way she was trying to stick her hand down your pants." Merlin snarled at the prince, throwing himself forward, doing his darn best to smash his head into Arthur's, hoping a new injury would force the prince to let go of his arms. But Arthur was quicker and jerked his head out of range, making Merlin snarl again, "Or for all I know, you just want to brood in peace about how much you hate me!" He screamed this in Arthur's face, not realizing when Arthur pushed him back, it got him a step closer to the desk. Merlin wasn't going to waste his time listening to Arthur's pretty words as he tried to lie his way out of anything, or dismiss the way he was nothing but some horrible, lying, cheating scumbag!

And Merlin, among all of this thrashing around, as he tried to escape Arthur's unrelenting grip on him found himself being flipped around. He looked like he was more of a wildcat, his dark hair flipped out in different directions as he was shoved forward to the desk. Merlin threw out a rabid snarl, grabbing onto the edge of the desk jutting itself into his gut, before throwing his clenched fist out over the top of his shoulder, hoping he would hear some grunt of pain from Arthur as his fist collided, maybe the sound of crunching as the prince's nose went flat, breaking against the pressure of his fist. All Merlin got for his trouble, was his wrist caught within the grip of a powerful man, and Merlin hissed when he could feel his shoulder bone twisting painfully with the awkward positioning. And then Arthur's breath was at the nape of his neck, the side of the blonde man's hair bruising against his cheekbone.

"I don't hate you." Arthur hissed dangerously into Merlin's ear, purposely ignoring his consort's little snide comment about Clarissa's hand creeping it's way down his pants. He knew he needed to keep his anger in check, and his emotions under strict control if he was going to do this. Arthur couldn't allow his anger to grow further than he would be able to handle. Or he would be doing a whole hell of a lot more than one firm spank across the back side, nothing would stop Arthur from drawing just a bit of blood to show Merlin how serious he was about his obeying him. Without acting like some barely there doll like he had been earlier. He knew there had to be some kind of happy-between the middle-ground, but he would leave it up to Merlin to figure out what a good balance was.

Besides, Arthur thought, bracing himself against Merlin's still wiggling form and preparing to slam him down onto the desk before he could resist or fight back against what was about to happen, the word 'hate' was pretty strong. Arthur liked to think 'hate' was reserved for other things that deserved the emotion. Like the sorceress-like Gwen-who'd taken her time to spew her own hatred over all of his land. Who had polluted his water and killed his people under his own watch, and right from within the safety of the castle walls, under the disguise of being a friend…his irrational hatred was meant for the girl who had a poultice hidden inside of her home, no matter whether or not Merlin insisted of her innocence. Somehow, Arthur didn't think that Merlin-despite his irritating manners-was quite up to that kind of level of hatred. At least the consort hadn't gone around killing people, leaving him, the protector of his people, helpless to stop it. Even if it did bring up the philosophy question…wasn't the consort just as responsible for killing people? As it was Merlin, who kept waiting his time with all the pointless arguments they had gotten into over the last week alone.

But Arthur just shrugged those thoughts off, and leaned back away from Merlin so they weren't so tightly pressed together, putting the hand he was not using to hold Merlin's wrist from bashing into his nose onto his shoulder, prepared to throw him down on the desk, "I mean, to actually hate you-" the prince started quickly, not wanting to risk the chance of seeing any of that ridiculous hope from forming in Merlin's eyes when he felt the other boy stiffening against him. Because when one thought about it, 'I don't hate you' was probably the nicest thing Arthur had ever said to the consort in all the weeks they've known each other. "I would actually have to care anything about you, more than I do."

And then he was slamming Merlin down onto the desk as hard as he could, things flying around in different directions as the consort landed onto the flat planes of his belly, "What the hell do you think your doing now!" Merlin shouted, trying to jam his knee underneath him so he could push himself off the desk. He had never been in this position when compared to all the different ways Arthur had tried to hold him down. Usually, Arthur would've made sure to put them face to face, Merlin assumed to make it easier to yell at him in the face. But in this positioning, he would have been laying face down on his stomach, being left vulnerable and open to attack, with Arthur left doing whatever the hell he thinks he's going to do behind him. This suddenly seemed so much worse when Arthur grabbed his ankle, and jerked it back down the table so it was forced onto the floor, rather than Merlin trying to use it to push himself off of the desk.

"Oh, shut up." Arthur exclaimed, talking big even if he was hesitate now that Merlin was actually there in position, a trickle of anxiety induced sweat was starting to make its way down the side of his neck, not able to hear Merlin cursing him out because of his heartbeat thundering away inside of his ears to an uneven rhythm, and Merlin was wiggling plenty more than Arthur had considered. Somehow, with the scene playing inside of his head of what would be happening, Arthur hadn't imagined so much of a fight. Arthur had thought he would get his hit or two in, and they would be done. Merlin obviously wouldn't leave on his own without being tossed on his arse out the door, so giving him a firm spank in his rear would surely get Merlin in gear for running out the door himself. And then Arthur panicked as he saw Merlin had managed to get his hand under himself, and was trying to push up off the table to make his grand escape from him.

Arthur ended up nearly jumping on top of him, the corner of the desk gnashing painfully against his thigh and sending a dull ache through his leg. But he ignored the throbbing, so he could slap one of his strong, large, meaty hands onto the square of Merlin's back-Arthur nearly marveled at how small Merlin was considering his big smooth, since his hand nearly covered the entire space-and shoved him forward. Merlin's cursing returned anew when he landed on his belly again, against the flat plane of the desk and the crunching of the map laid flat across the table still echoed throughout the room. And Arthur watched, he didn't stop watching with wide eyes as he tried to figure out how would he do this. Was he just supposed to give Merlin one sharp slap against the rear, jolting him forward as his hips banged against the corner of the desk in rhythm to the sheer force of the blow, listening to the way he shrieked as if it was music to his ears. Or maybe it was only common courtesy for him as the spank-er, to give a fair warning to the one who was being spanked that the blow was about to be landed? What would Arthur know about that kind of decorum, it's not like it was something involved in his private, princely education. Nor did he make it a habit of wanting to spank somebody until their arse was so red, they'd have trouble sitting down for days to come, unable to put pressure on those soft spots without thinking of him or what exactly, had occurred in this room, during this time, with a fireplace crackling softly in the distance. Hell, if he did this right, then maybe Merlin wouldn't even be able to sit by another fireplace without the sound of it conjuring up this memory for him.

But then he was drawn down by Merlin screaming another expletive at him, much louder than all the rest had been, making it no longer easy to tune it out. Ad Arthur had to push down with more of his weight before Merlin's wiggling could offset them both and send them flipping off the table. But the increase in wiggling…forced Merlin's thigh to bang harshly against the outside of Arthur's leg, which in turn, shot Arthur's eyes down onto…Arthur felt his mouth suddenly go dry when his eyes landed on Merlin's arse. The rounded flesh was forced up into the air, within prime position for somebody to rain as many blows as one wanted onto it, the way it wiggled frantically in Arthur's hold only seemed to make it more inviting. Arthur's hand itching with the urge to finally dole out some much needed bit of justice. And that freaked Arthur out, more than he would want to admit. But he refused to be seen as the coward in this situation, he already had the brat in the right position, had already came this far to do it, he couldn't chicken out now…

Arthur squeezed his eyes shut, to get his bearings together, and then acted. But first, maybe it would be right to give Merlin a warning of sorts before he just started hitting him. And it was most definitely not Arthur's way of stalling for time when he was leaning over Merlin's body like an awful, looming, monster of a predator. And feeling the way Merlin froze and his body stiffened up when his husband reached his ear drum, "Trust me, Merlin." He said into the earlobe, feeling the thump, thump, thump of Merlin's rapid heartbeat reverberated through his hand on his back. Every emotion seemed to be heightened to the nth degree between the both of them. Every sense was dialed up, Arthur could've sworn he even smelt the anxious sweat forming on the skin of Merlin's neck, even when it was hidden beneath that ridiculous neckerchief he wore. "This is going to be best for both of us. You'll see…"

Arthur figured the only way they could get all their fighting to stop, would be if they managed to work their frustrations out by other means. These next few moments, Arthur thought as he started slowly raising his other hand high above his head, fueling his actions was the sudden wave of anticipation to do this to the consort, ready to hear the cracking sound as contact was made against clothed flesh, would be a defining moment in their relationship. It would decide where they would be going in the future, and how they would interact with the other from now on…Arthur made the mistake of keeping his face too close to the exactly wrong place he should keep it.

CRACK!

Arthur yelled, rearing back in horror as he let go of Merlin completely to grab at his bleeding nose. On the table, Merlin rolled himself off and standing so he was on the other side of the table, keeping the desk as some kind of barricade between the two of them lest Arthur tried to attack him again, "And what the fuck do you think you were just playing at right now!" Merlin practically bellowed, his face red and flushed with his anger, fists shaking at his sides. Merlin hadn't been able to see behind him, so he hadn't seen Arthur's hand poised up behind him. But he did know Arthur had held him down on a flat surface again, had made him vulnerable and weak, kept him pinned down so he couldn't stand against him. When Merlin had sworn he would not 'ever' allowed that to happen between them again, and that was one vow he had every bit of intention on keeping. Maybe he couldn't stay away from the prince like he wanted, but he would have damned himself before he would allow anything like that to happen again. Merlin would demand far more from his life than whatever meaningless existence he'd been shoved into by Arthur and people like him.

"Err…" Arthur found himself stuttering, scrambling for a proper answer that wouldn't make him look a fool. Though, that already seemed to be covered, as he held a hand up to his bleeding nose, feeling the blood pooling between his fingers from where Merlin had slammed the back of his head against his face. Any harder, and Merlin could have broken it, permanently disfiguring his features. But it was not his most important concern at the moment, as he now had Merlin's eyes on him, lighting into his soul like a whip of fire. This had been easier when he didn't have Merlin watching him, looking like it was Arthur who was the viper in the grass waiting to strike out against an enemy. When all the prince had been doing was asserting his dominance and trying to teach Merlin that yelling at him, throwing one of his little temper tantrums, wasn't going to be something he tolerated. Nor would Arthur allow Merlin to go all weird and blank and quiet on him as he had been earlier. "….Nothing…"

As far as excuses went, even Arthur had to realize just how lame that was. Nothing? He went ahead and told Merlin he was doing…nothing? Anything under the sun would have been better than just a plain, old, boring, and obvious lie that…I was doing nothing, when I pinned you down on the desk and held my hand over your rear end. Hell, Arthur was probably going to get a better response if he told Merlin he'd been planning to smack him across his arse until he gave in and agreed to leave Arthur on his own, unless Arthur called for him himself. If the consort told him no, Arthur would have been more than willing to do more smacks than he'd originally planned, getting progressively harder until he had been reduced to tears and snot and agreed to do whatever Arthur said whenever he said it. Now, his consort was a stubborn sort, so it may have taken a few more hits than it should, but Arthur was also confident, with his soft skin, he could have broken him in.

And…oh fuck, Arthur was definitely not going to get into all of that. There wasn't a god or king on this earth that could have Arthur confessing what he had been about to do. His mission was nothing but a failure, something he should've aborted long before he laid his actual hands on top of Merlin or his flesh. He could only imagine how much more awkward and horrifying this moment would have been if Arthur had managed to land a solid smack on Merlin, before he had managed to take the first chance he saw and escaped his grasp. He had his throbbing nose in his hand, sore and stiff and he's pretty sure it was getting swollen now, but Arthur would take that, rather than whatever would have been the alternative if Arthur 'had' managed a hit in.

"Nothing." Merlin repeated slowly, and Arthur felt an unsettled shiver going down his spine-feeling completely emotionally worn out after what they had just went through-when he saw the look that filled Merlin's eyes. Good god, Arthur thought with discontentment, he was regretting the day laying a hand or whip on Merlin's flesh had ever crossed his mind. Those thoughts building and building in the back of his mind had been what had led to him trying to act them out. But it wasn't some fantasy in which Arthur got to drag out all of the reactions he wanted too out of Merlin. It wasn't a world that had Merlin thanking him when he was done, then acknowledging Arthur had been right to get a bit heavy handed on him, because he needed to have that kind of discipline to become the proper role model and consort for the people. This was reality and as Arthur was coming to learn, reality would not be living up to the imagined world he'd been conjuring in his head. "You can claim you weren't doing anything, Arthur Pendragon. But you and I both know exactly what you were doing!"

Merlin finished his screaming by throwing a finger out at Arthur, violently flipping him off in a manner that was all peasant. Which would have been one more reason for Arthur to have gone through with giving him a proper spanking. But Arthur found he couldn't move-he couldn't even speak up to give himself the proper defense-when he saw Merlin's heated glare. Oh, good lord, the prince thought in a horror stricken manner. Despite his poor denial, Arthur had still thought he would've gotten away with his attempt. Arthur usually cursed Merlin and his naive manner, thinking about how absolutely stupid his consort was to not know some of the most basic of acts. It was something that caused Arthur great distress at one point, but it was also something the prince found himself grateful for on this dark summer's night. Merlin couldn't accuse him of doing anything uncouth if he didn't know it could be done. And even if Arthur hadn't planned-nor would he ever-do something uncouth with the boy's neither regions, he knew he was safe due to Merlin's innocence.

The consort probably didn't even realize another person could have the desire to spank his rear end into shape. Arthur didn't entirely understand it for himself, considering he'd never had the desire to do it before. But once again, Arthur had thought it would be safe for him to move on, and be the one to pretend the last few minutes of humiliation for him had not just happened. Instead of the other way around like it was supposed to be.

But that ship, Arthur realized with sinking dread as he stared down at the finger a good foot from his face due to the desk Merlin was keeping between the two of them purposely, had sailed long before he even realized it had. Because as it turned out, Merlin wasn't as dumb as Arthur liked to think he was. And there was absolutely no way-he realized staring into the dead serious blue of Merlin's eyes, for him to talk his way out of this one.