Notes:

Hi everyone, sorry for the long wait between chapters unfortunately I am an adult with a 9-5 (its actually a 7:30-5 but that's not as catchy). Don't worry though I have the next chapter written, had to cut this chapter in half, just need to edit it!

I wanted to give FuchsiaTheBrave a shout out for some really insightful comments and some very valid concerns about Merlin being underestimated by Arthur. I hope to fix these issues by the end of the fic and FuchsiaTheBrave remains a reader!

As always i really appreciate comments and criticisms!

Chapter Text

An old but well-kept two-story building functioned as the town inn. The shuddered windows pulsed with firelight, promising warmth that beckoned the pair in. As efficiently as one could with cold unresponsive fingers, the two horses were hitched loosely to the rail out front, and their cargo was unloaded.

Inside the air was as invitingly warm as expected. The atmosphere not so much. Most conversation paused to take stock of the strange patrons before resuming cautiously. Anxiety bubbled up in Arthur's gut, but there was no avoiding the situation. He would be recognized, or he would not. So he walked to the bar with Merlin trailing. The stout man behind the counter arranging a platter full of mugs said, "I'll be with you boys in a minute" before scurrying off to one of the more populated tables.

"So what can I do for you?" the barman asked when he returned with an empty tray.

The prince paused glancing at Merlin to take over the transaction because he "couldn't be trusted to behave normally". The stubborn idiot only motioned with his eyes for Arthur to "get on with it".

Arthur was about to demand a room from the man out of habit before saying instead, "how much for one room, sir?"

Merlin's eyes beside him remained fixed on the ground throughout the transaction, only wavering slightly when Arthur deferred to the inn keeper as "sir". 'Grow up' Arthur thought ignoring hot meals were purchased and Arthur motioned for the shivering idiot to sit down while he was assigned a room and key. Merlin was a sorry sight. He probably was too, Arthur reflected.

"Can you board our horses as well? We need them to be ready to ride at first light?" Arthur asked

"I'll take care of it" The inn keeper promised, "They're out front, yeah?"

"Yes. Thank you" Arthur said while counting out his coin.

The prince tried to ask if Odel was in for his nightly drink but the moment the money changed hands the sturdy looking inn keep disappeared into what could only be a kitchen and began calling out food orders.

"Can you… alright then," Arthur muttered to himself awkwardly.

Arthur scanned the tables and nodded in approval when he noticed that his companion had picked a spot that offered a good vantage of the entire room. Not that Merlin seemed to be aware of that, as he sat with his hands shoved under his arms, head down, curling in on himself with eyes closed. Beneath him formed a small puddle. Arthur mourned the absence of his red jacket. The dry warmth of the newly purchased, simple, brown replacement would be wasted if he put it on now Arthur reasoned, ignoring his own puddle that began growing under his feet and tried to remain vigilant.

The inn had several customers, most of which were absorbed in muted conversations. Some, not too subtly, stared at the flood they carried inside. The looks seemed to deflect off the top of Merlin's head which had sunk face first into the table. Their interest wasn't concerning, just discomforting.

This Odel drinks at the inn every night, the noble thought looking around. Every man had a drink. Arthur sighed.

"Are you still doing alright?" Arthur asked the prone deserter.

"Yep" head still down.

"Not going to faint again?"

"Let it go" Merlin said, voice muffled.

Arthur smirked, shoving his own hands into his armpits. It wasn't a challenge to pretend his right wrist was injured. The bulky cuff and bandage prevented him from moving it naturally and the inflamed skin had him moving it gingerly. The effect made for quite the convincing fracture. Eying up the two men watching them from the table beside the fire place, the royal tried to decide where they were in their meal and how soon they would vacate their spot. They didn't even have the manners to pretend they hadn't been staring first. Arthur was accustomed to staring, it appeared they were not.

Conversations surrounded Merlin as if shouted in his ear in one jumbled roar. The spell amplified all sounds, but it did nothing to help sort them as to be intelligible. That was all experience. Keeping his face firmly planted in the well-worn wood had absolutely nothing to do with his pounding headache, neckache, backache, body ache, leg ache - or any ache Merlin rationalized. It was to help him concentrate.

A hushed discussion "where do you think those two came in from?" was taking all of the sorcerer's attention so he did not notice the burdened footsteps approaching until some ass kicked him under the table. Merlin startled like a cat until his eyes landed on the unamused barman, then food, in that order.

Mutton, bread and watered down beer were dropped between them with a gruff, "eat up" and a bit of a judging look from the inn keeper.

The prick across from him seemed flummoxed at the food delivery. Merlin Couldn't help but imagine that he was ever served without a bow and some sort of song and dance prior to this cursed hunting trip. The realization that this was the first normal human interaction the prince has probably ever experienced almost made theEssetirandrop his cup. After all that bitching about being treated differently as a prince, it seemed as though Arthur did not like slumming it as a peasant either. The man just seemed to hate life.

The beer was a bit shit but the meat was a delicacy. What was that? Apple and cloves? Delicious.

Arthur was surprised to see the buffoon eating with utensils after their previous meal although his posture was atrocious. He was practically laying on the food in a way that would make his etiquette tutors cry. Arthur was suddenly painfully aware that he was practicing manners he always despised for no reason except habit and leaned to eat with his elbows on the table. It was only a little bit freeing.

Arthur briefly wondered if all the meals were this size or if the inn keeper saw the sorry state of them and beefed up their portions. Would that be pity or kindness? Arthur decided it didn't matter, they needed the food.

'Perhaps it was both?'

The food appeared to invigorate Merlin. He didn't eat with the same gusto as the day before but it was certainly more energetic than he had been in the last few hours. About halfway through his plate, Merlin stopped shoveling food into his mouth. Stared at his remaining portion before downing the rest of his beer and standing up, abruptly leaving Arthur at the table alone.

Arthur winced in sympathy watching Merlin walk. His gait was worse than before. The idiot should have stopped being stubborn and stupid and gotten on the damn horse.

"Excuse me, where can I find a messenger in this town? I need to send word ahead to our cousin in Camelot that he needs to visit his father right away, poor sod is on his death bed and his dying wish is to see our idiot of a cousin one last time. I know we are not too far out from Camelot but I've got a bum leg and he can't ride with his wrist" he said gesturing to his companion's "injury".

Arthur's jaw hit the floor before schooling his expression to hide his surprise at the lie.

"Odel" The inn keeper said, "He should be popping in for his nightly pint soon and if he doesn't show up by the time you finish your meal, I'll give you directions to his house."