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!

212. Chapter 214

Arthur Pendragon wondered around the grand and haunted halls of the estate for hours it seemed like. He felt almost like a ghost that was stuck haunting all these empty hallways of a home that wasn't his. Each empty space he seemed to come across only succeeded in carving out another hole in his heart. Empty room after empty room stretched out in front of him for what felt like miles but he didn't stop to take shelter in any of them. He felt as if he couldn't. As if he'd just be an interloper that was causing the space to wither and decay before his very own eyes. It was already a dark home, but Arthur might as well be seeing it all in different shades of black and grey, which only increased how empty he was on the inside. Arthur might as well be numb. He could hardly walk without stumbling his way into some random side table or the odd wall that seemed as if it had sprung up right in front of him. But he didn't want to stop walking. He just wanted to keep going until it felt as if his legs had turned into jelly and he could do nothing more than collapse onto his knees until it was time for them to go home.

But what was home?

Arthur had never considered this question once in his entire life. He had been born in Camelot City under the summer sun during what had to be the hottest time of the year. He had spent every day of his life running through the grand halls few ever got to see. He had grown up on the training fields and spent so much of his youth strutting through the marketplace as he grew an addiction for the people throwing themselves at him in their attempt to please him. The prince had been taught that nothing mattered more than the kingdom and the people who lived in it, and that their citizens would one day look to Arthur for the guidance they needed. He had that responsibility on his shoulders even as he stole whatever sweets he could grab from the kitchens as a child. And he'd known the burden that came with responsibility as he worked himself down to the bones to become the best of the best as a teenager, refusing to stop until he could grown full fledged knights much older than him on their arse. And he had, eventually, grown from a boy and into a man, being watched by the great stone walls he had always called his home. He had been born there, and it was quite likely that he was going to die there many years from now. But before he would cross that great divide, Arthur had gotten married in the same room he would someday sit upon a golden throne as he took on the mantle of king, his consort sitting in a chair by his side.

Was Camelot his home still?

Or was Merlin his new home?

It was almost funny, Arthur thought numbly as he rammed his shoulder into a new wall he had just passed by, how his brain came up with such an odd and crazy notion when he was in this state of being. Here he was, barely clinging onto what ever sense of self he still had, while thinking about philosophy. He had a home, and yet, he was thinking MERLIN could be a new home? How was a person a home? How did a person become a home? How could Arthur look a man in the eye, knowing that he wanted him to become someone important to him in a way that meant much more than them taking vows neither of them had honored, when he still felt the phantom ache of Merlin's hot and heated mouth around his oversensitive cock. How had Arthur managed to escape the supply closet he had slept his hours away in, and find someplace else where he could get himself cleaned up in? How had Arthur managed to not cringe and sob as the shame of what he had just done crashed over him like monotonous waves as he scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed at the insides of his pants in order to get the horrid cum stains out of his clothing? Arthur had never cleaned out his own clothing before. Even when he had been a teenager and his outfits had seen their fair share of ejaculation coming from someone just learning what his private bits could really do, he hadn't cleaned them. He had left the filth to be done by the servants, and even now, his pants still felt damn on the inside, as he had been unable to dry them properly.

His first attempt at his own laundry…

And it was to clean his shameful ejaculation out of it.

Arthur had been numb through it all, that was how he managed to get through it without falling into a state that would have made him seem manic should any come across him. And truth be told, Arthur was still numb to everything. It was as if his brain was having… trouble processing… what had just happened while at the same time, being incredibly aware of what had just happened to him. He knew, but… he couldn't react. He knew, but… he didn't know how he should be behaving now that he had clawed his way out of that stupid fucking closest he had slept in. Arthur could only walk now, and hope that the exhaustion of it all would be enough to end his suffering. He could walk miles and miles and miles around the top floor of the estate, passing walls and portraits he had seen but had no memory of already walking past in the hopes of passing out whenever it became impossible to take another single step. Maybe if Arthur just walked and walked and walked, he would be able to chase the images out of his head as if they had never been there. Maybe he could even pretend they had never actually been there… if he just kept trying hard enough.

Maybe he wouldn't remember the feel of Merlin sitting between his thighs as if he had really been there.

Maybe he wouldn't remember the way he had encouraged Merlin to move over his most intimate parts with both hand and mouth.

Maybe he wouldn't remember the way Merlin had kissed him there… and how he had enjoyed kissing Arthur's length.

Maybe he wouldn't remember the way he had grabbed at Merlin's hair before embracing such depravity by thrusting his hips into the warmth of his tongue laving at him.

Maybe he wouldn't remember the sickening feeling that made his chest want to cave in even as pushed himself in harder and faster until he found it hard to breathe. The sickening feeling that came like a dam bursting inside his chest as his cum came spurting out of him and into the waiting mouth of somebody who was too pure to touch such felt.

Maybe he wouldn't remember the acidic taste of his own vomit as it came out of him, spewing from his mouth like toxic waves, when he had finally woken up and realized what he had done.

Arthur hadn't even done anything! It was hardly his fault that his brain had got its wires crossed until it had gotten everything mixed up and turned around till it didn't even resemble what his actual relationship with Merlin was. It was not his fault… the brain was a funny thing and could cause ruin to even the boldest and strongest of men who had ever existed. Arthur felt as if he was a man that had been turned away, sent through a broiler, and spat back out until he was a man he could no longer recognize Joe. Since when did Arthur start having this kind of dream? Since when had Arthur feared going to sleep, terrified of what he could find lying in the deepest shadows of his mind. Arthur didn't know how it had all started, or if the first dream he had about Merlin all those weeks ago had really been the first time such a thing had occurred to him. But the sexual tension had always been there. Tribulate and violent, yes, but there had always been a taste of it running in Arthur's veins. Mixing itself into the darkness that had encased his soul from the very moment he had met Merlin, until the other boy became the only thing that mattered to him. Arthur had turned away other women because he hadn't wanted to see the betrayal on Merlin's face, and he had turned against his old ways because he no longer wanted Merlin to live in fear of him any longer. And yet, that was exactly what was going to happen if Merlin caught wind of what lived in Arthur's skull…

The prince's body heaved right there in the middle of the hallway, as if he was about to throw up all over again, and Arthur had to place a hand on the wall to steady himself before he fell over. The prince breathed with ragged breaths as he struggled to ignore the scent of vomit that still clogged him up somewhere in the back of his throat from the last time he had thrown up. Arthur could not even say what these dreams were about to begin with, or why he continued to have them after the last time, or why Merlin was the only man to ever bring out this side to him. Arthur had never thought of other men this way. He had never thought about sitting next to them and listening to some man ramble about the most random of things for hours and hours and knowing he would never once be bored of what he had to say. Arthur knew he had never wanted to show any other man the kind of world that Arthur had grown up in, showing this man the parts of himself that was normal and human but would be seen as unimportant by others when compared to the parts of him that made him their prince. Just as he knew he had never been so prideful of his own abilities, that he would've promised himself to somehow get Merlin's consent for a single kiss so he was able to prove his skill in that area. Arthur would've just laughed if another had said he wasn't a good kisser, and assumed they were just messing with him as men were prone to doing. He would have never taken it as a challenge, issued to him by somebody most important. There were a lot of things that the prince knew he would've never done if it had been another man goading Arthur to try and get him to react the same way that Merlin made his react. But now Arthur was having… having sex dreams about him! Arthur wasn't just behaving like he was in the waking world because he felt like he had something to prove! Now he was doing things that Merlin would be oblivious to. Doing things that made him want to kneel over until he could figure out a way to handle what exactly it all meant. Now he was…

Helplessly sick.

Arthur tried to start walking again down the length of the hallway, though the prince held onto the wall as tightly as he could for fear that he would fall down if he released it. He didn't know what else he could do besides continuing this helpless walking he was doing. It wasn't as if it was going to help him chase all the memories away. It wasn't as if it was going to help Arthur prevent any more of these strange dreams from coming through. It wasn't going to stop the man from questioning why this was happening to him. Why, when Arthur was doing everything in the world he could do to prove to Merlin that he could be a better man and do things right by him, life would suddenly decide to throw a wrench like this in his plans. Why, when Arthur wanted nothing in the world other than to see Merlin embracing everything life had to offer him for once, the universe had decided Arthur couldn't keep his focus on sorely making Merlin happy. He should be Arthur's only concern! Merlin shouldn't have to also be looked at as if Arthur was a dog and Merlin was a steak on a bone that the prince was dying to sink his teeth into. Merlin should be able to walk by Arthur in peace, and not have the Prince dreaming such disgusting things about him. Merlin was pretty much the light that caused the sun, and Arthur was the darkness that could do nothing more than chase it away. Merlin was heaven sent to make Arthur finally take notice of his ways, and Arthur was the demon that was going to rot in hell for having such impure thoughts for him.

Why…

Why…

Why…

Was this whole thing the universe's way of punishing Arthur? Arthur deserved to be punished for all of the wrongdoings he had done to Merlin, certainly. He had done all manner of horrible things to the boy. From the simpler things like lying to him about not finding his neckerchief among his things, to the darker and more deranged aspects of their history that had cumulated in the resound backhand he had given Merlin across his face so many months ago. He should be forced to walk over hot coals on his bare feet for what he had done, and he should be hanged for even daring to dream about touching Merlin with all that horrid violence. He deserved to have his own father looking at him as if Arthur had turned into some sort of half-bred bastard child who could not possibly be his son for the millions of horrible things he had done. But dreaming about this type of thing… dreaming about putting his hands on Merlin and liking all of the ways Merlin had arched and moaned at his touch. Dreaming about the wicked gleam in Merlin's eyes as he gave himself over to Arthur, and about the way he had taken Merlin with such brutality… this was far more than a punishment for Arthur. Something like that was pure hell. Something that only the worse would do. Because what man—any man—would be weak enough to wish that they are able to lie in the same bed as another man. Was Arthur weak… was he less of a man… for having such thoughts.

But… but Merlin was the strongest man Arthur had ever met despite his lack of muscle mass and fighting skills.

And Merlin… Merlin would probably like to lie in the same bed as another man …someday…

Arthur bowed his head, pausing in his step against a new section of the wall as he took in deep and steadying breaths that only made his insides quiver until it tried to overcome him. His blond bangs fell into his eyes, but the prince didn't even bother to push them out of the way in order for him to see the stone floor and walls. He didn't bother with doing anything. This dream—the second kind of this nature—had buried itself beneath his skin so throughly, that Arthur did not know if he would ever be able to erase it. He didn't know if it was possible to erase it. He didn't know if he could look Merlin in the eye without feeling as if Merlin would know what he had been dreaming about from just looking in his direction. He didn't know anything, other than the fear and the desire trying to pulse in his gut, both vying to be the dominant emotion. But which of them, he didn't know, was going to win. Would his fear be enough to cause him to push away Merlin, and restart the cycle of pain he had already forced his consort to live through the first time. Or would his desire… what even WAS Arthur's weird desire? What did it mean? What did it mean for Arthur's future with Merlin?

Arthur barely heard the sound of running footsteps behind him until they were almost on top of him.

"Sire! Sire! Oh, thank the gods that I have managed to find you! I have been all over this estate trying to track you down but I had no idea where you would be though. You weren't at the breakfast table and you weren't out on the fields or the library or even in the sitting room! I even resorted to checking your room in the hopes of finding you still asleep!" Jacque, the estate's extremely annoying steward that that had taken a shine to the royal couple ever since they strode up to the front steps, was suddenly there, his robes flourishing behind him due to his hurry. And Arthur jolted back on instinct, his eyes going wide and wild as he plastered himself against the wall, the muscles bunching in his forearms as if he was preparing himself to be on the defensive. His heart had leaped to his throat, sweat clinging to his skin until it was clammy and sticky, and he was in such a vulnerable state, unfit to be in the company of anybody, especially this man, who would clearly want something from him. "But you haven't been any place that I have looked! I almost feared that you might have vacated the walls of this estate at some point in the night! I even considered the idea of maybe your consort having done away with you in the night, as ridiculous as that idea was! But sire, I am so grateful that I have found you! For something horrible is happening and I fear you might be the only one to make him see sense!"

Arthur breathed in another shuddering breath, trying to get his bearings back into order. He wanted nothing more than to spend hours and days and weeks trying to figure out what his dream meant or why he couldn't get thoughts like that out of his mind, but he feared not even months could have given him the time to figure out what he should do next. But dealing with whatever problem the steward had… that was something Arthur could do, something he'd been practically born to do. It was his job as the prince of the kingdom to help the citizens who lived within their borders with whatever problems they brought to him, no matter how insanely annoying they really were. He didn't know how he was meant to ignore the limp and flaccid organ hanging between his legs even hidden beneath his pants, but he could talk to this bloody man and do the one duty he could still manage. He had failed as a husband, and was still failing for what had just happened. But he could still hold onto his abilities as a prince… it was really the only thing he had left. If he couldn't fix this, then… what kind of man was Arthur, really?

"What do you… what are you talking about?"

Arthur's voice sounded hoarse and strained even to his own ears, the cords he had in his throat that controlled his voice felt as if they were trying to kill him… but he was sure the steward hadn't noticed. Or at least, he hadn't noticed how Arthur was nothing more than a trembling mass of muscles, whose brain could very well be nothing more than mush, as he struggled to think back to what he had been rambling about when he had accosted Arthur. Something about how Arthur… was the only one that could make him see sense? Make who? Perhaps one of his knights had gone and done something and it had caused offense for Jacqui and maybe even the other residents of the estate? Whatever it was, it'd been major enough for the man to run all over the place looking for him… even in his own bed chambers. Or, in other words, the bed chambers that the blond had been kicked out of so Merlin could sleep safely behind closed doors. The prince felt his heart stuttering violently in his chest… had the steward busted into those chambers as if the place was on fire? Merlin… Arthur swallowed as hard as he could past the lump in his throat. He didn't… didn't know if he was ever going to be ready to see Merlin again, but he was liable to do something insane if he found out this man had walked in on Merlin while he was sleeping in that bed. Being all soft and warm and sweet as his unconscious body could only shift around in his sleep, unaware of the voyeur who had just stepped into his private space. Arthur's insides, so raw and devastated and unable to think or handle the emotions coursing through him, was telling him to take his anger and confusion out on this man. To bash Jacqui in over the head for coming to him at the wrong moment, and for encroaching on the privacy his consort was wanting.

"It's your consort, my majesty!" Jacqui exclaimed with the same forceful way he had been shrieking ever since he had encroached on Arthur's own private moment. And Arthur's heart stuttered in his chest once again, the mention of his consort enough to cause the blood in his veins to freeze. His consort… his Merlin… naked flesh pressed against his heated skin as sounds Arthur's never made before a day in his life erupted from his lips because his beauty wanted to hear how much he was pleasing him… Arthur's insides quivered. He wasn't ready to deal with Merlin, or anything that had happened with him. But what if this man really had barged in on Merlin and now Merlin was upset about it? Or what if something else had happened, and Arthur was up here being a woman and crying about his 'feelings' instead of just manning up and pretending they didn't exist. What if Merlin needed Arthur to defend him, and Arthur was only proving Merlin was right to not choose him as his partner. "I was doing all my rounds this morning, my sire, making sure that everything is going smoothly in the estate as I do every morning, making sure none of the servants are trying to do something they aren't supposed to be doing, you know? And then… then I see… I see your consort through the window! And he… he was outside, sire! I saw him with my own eyes! He was outside playing with the dirt… gardening it looked like from where I was standing!"

Jacqui's words rung through the air as if there was something powerful lying in the wings beneath it, but Arthur stopped, so taken aback by what the man had said, that he honestly didn't know if he had heard it right. Jacqui was upset at Merlin because the consort was outside… gardening? When Jacqui had started shouting about Merlin, the first thing that had crossed Arthur's mind was that he was in trouble somewhere and relying on Arthur to fix everything, even if he didn't know if he would be able to fix even the smallest of problems. But if the problem was that Merlin was outside doing a little gardening, then… then he's failing to see the problem. Except… gardening? Arthur felt his brows when they started creeping into the center of his forehead. Arthur had never considered gardening would be something his consort might enjoy doing. Gardening was such a…. woman's hobby. But Arthur had already thrown a fit after Merlin had decided to learn more about medicine, despite it not even an approved hobby for a Royal noble. And… did Arthur really have any right to say anything about it if it was something Merlin actually liked? Arthur could almost imagine how it would look to come across something like that… Merlin digging in the dirt with his hands buried beneath the soil, wiping the sweat off his forehead until he'd been left with a streak of dirt across his pale skin. Arthur bit back a harsh and sudden whimper before it could escape him. He shouldn't feel this… bothered at the thought of Merlin being dirty as he did things unsuited for a noble. But he was, and Arthur struggled in vain to ignore the pounding of his heart as he wondered if this new hobby was something he could indulge him with. It might be a long time before Arthur could look Merlin in the eye again, but perhaps he could have a piece of land set aside back at the castle for Merlin to be able to garden all he wanted.

"Honestly sire, I have no idea how it is done when you are back in the main city but this is something I have never seen in all my days. Why, the former lord of the manor refused to have any hand in things he deemed 'dirty.' And the lady herself would have never dreamed about sitting out there with the help! It was just so disgraceful." Jacqui said, with this loud and disapproving clicking of his tongue that almost immediately caused a burst of indignation to rise up in the prince's chest. He could ask a million and one different questions about what it meant for him to be dreaming of such… sinful topics. He could scream and he could cry and he could demand to know what was wrong with him because he shouldn't be THINKING about those things. Not when Arthur didn't dream of boys in such a manner, and not when Merlin had no way of consenting with Arthur having thoughts like that. But it became clear, even after having such a dream that could have caused him to react violently and go back ten steps of his stagnate relationship with Merlin… he still didn't like the way that people thought they had a right to talk about him. As if Merlin hadn't been forced to live through enough, much of it being sorely Arthur's fault, without strangers getting their undergarments in a twist because he was finally doing something he liked instead of something the crown was demanding him to do. "You really must come and see the consort for yourself. I am trying to make this all work as best as I can, but it's so hard when your consort makes these decisions so unbecoming of stations! All these stories you hear about him, as if he's some kind of hero that is going to change the world, and then you actually meet him and he turns out to be somebody simply doing whatever he wants to do. Not thinking for one second how others would feel to see the Consort of the entire Kingdom doing such mundane things. Please, just come and take a look at the sight, sire. You will be disgusted yourself, surely."

And before Arthur could say a single word in defense of Merlin, the other man had already turned on his heel and stormed away as fast as his feet was able to carry him, as if he couldn't wait to see Arthur getting Merlin in trouble due to such a… mundane activity. Perhaps in another life, the prince couldn't find it in himself to be bothered with such stupidity, and would have left the steward to make a fool out of himself by throwing a fit over something so idiotic. Arthur though, was in a different place in his life these days, and if Jacqui was really so stupid as to think he could confront Merlin in a place that now belonged to him, than Arthur knew that he needed to be here. Which is exactly why Arthur found himself storming after the steward, even when he had his heart trying to hammer it's way out of his throat as if it was a jackrabbit that had managed to somehow get caught inside of him. Arthur wasn't ready to confront Merlin, not by a long shot, but he was already a failure in his eyes long before all of these dreams started happening to him. He could hardly allow himself to become a failure again when Merlin needed somebody to back him up. But it appeared, a little too late to the prince, that Jacqui wasn't actually taking him to see what Merlin was doing. Yes, Jacqui was taking him somewhere, but outside of the estate was not it. Instead, the steward took a rather sudden turn and led the prince through two dark colored doors with glass covering the majority. It led out onto a balcony overlooking the vast majority of the land, and the sun was so bright outside that Arthur had to squint. The heat of the sun only made the prince feel more and more clammy compared to how he had been.

"SEE! Just look at him down there!"

Jacqui exclaimed so loudly, that it actually took Arthur by surprise and caused him to flinch. He wasn't usually so… tense around somebody who was beneath him, but he was still feeling so raw after his dream, as if his nerve endings had been struck by a thousand different bolts of lightning. But Arthur had came all this way out here just to see… see his consort, and that was exactly what he's going to do. There was a ringing in Arthur's ears as he stuck his head over the ledge of the balcony, his eyes scanning the ground beneath them in search of the one spot of hope and devastation that he had in his life. But it took him far longer than he wished to admit, not sure if he wanted to see anything at all but knowing this wasn't something he could avoid, before he finally spotted Merlin sitting in the far corner of the estate. He could hardly see him from where they were standing on the balcony, but Merlin was like a black dot of curls far below them. Sitting by himself in the sand with a collection of growing vegetables on the piss poor garden the estate managed. Arthur's heart once again leaped to his throat, threatening to suffocate him from the mere sight of the boy. He felt dry in the mouth, and yet his hands holding onto the railing of the balcony was soaked with sweat. Merlin couldn't even see them from this angle, and would have no idea Arthur was ever there, looking down at him and watching what he was doing. But Arthur still felt… terrible. As if he was spying on the other and not respecting what little privacy Merlin still managed to have after the ways Arthur had… thought of what he might look like unclothed. His stomach felt as if it was lurching, and he was suddenly terrified of drawing attention to where they were standing if he gave into the urge and threw up over the railing.

"Do you see what he is doing?! I'm not entirely sure myself because Consort Merlin has been sitting out there without even his personal guard to look over him. He could be messing with the garden for all I know, or he could be trying to change it the same way he is trying to change the estate! I still don't like all the changes he's trying to make. I mean, I know the only real thing is that he's wishing to keep the curtains open so that the sun can stream in through all the windows, but I am still having trouble with that one! It was never like that with the former lord and lady of the manor! And I only shudder with fear if he is now turning his sights onto the garden! He simply must be stopped and corrected about how the manor was run before he got here. If it managed to stand all of this time without the kind of attention he's trying to give it, then it will continue to stand for a thousand years more. In fact, if you give me your permission, I'd volunteer to explain to him how things should be better he gets any ideas that simply won't do around here."

Jacqui finished off what he was saying with an almost self-important sniffing of his nose, as if he thought Arthur would jump at the chance to get him to go and explain things 'properly' to Arthur's own husband. And Arthur sucked in a ragged breath, bile brewing somewhere in the back of his throat as his hands tightened around the railing. It made him sick to think about disgracing Merlin for just looking at him when Merlin was unaware of his presence, but the blond prince forced himself to do it anyway, concentrating more firmly on the young consort to keep himself from spewing everywhere. Merlin was yards below the two of them, and this was… probably the first time Arthur had ever seen Merlin when he wasn't frosty or heated because of whatever situation Arthur brought to his door. It was the first time Arthur could look down at him, and see Merlin without his guard up in case Arthur tried something on him. And Arthur did not know what to make of Merlin now that he was just being… whoever he wanted to be without the pressures of other people forcing his behavior. He wanted to look and observe and watch what Merlin did with his time, if only because this was such a rare opportunity for him to see Merlin in his true element. Covered in dirt and uncaring about the stains on the knees of his pants and doing what HE wanted to do with his time. But Arthur couldn't get over the overwhelming guilt that threatened to cripple him to his knees. Who was he to ruin Merlin by staring at him? Who was he to stand here and act as if he hadn't betrayed the trust they didn't even have between them by… doing what he did. How could he stand there and… not do anything while Jacqui stood beside him expecting Arthur to do something about Merlin's… behavior.

"Why did you come to me?"

Arthur could hardly look at Jacqui, his hands going so tightly around the rail of the balcony that he could have made the thing cave in if he applied anymore of the pressure he had. His voice had dropped down to levels that seemed as if it was frighteningly cold. If Jacqui recognized the dangerous line he was starting to tread, Arthur didn't know, but he could feel his shoulders shaking while he's trying by in vain to hold back his anger. Anger was an emotion he knew like he knew the back of his name. Anger was an emotion that was violent and red, it was the emotion that had caused him so much pain because he didn't think of the consequences of him lashing out at those most important. But Jacqui was quite deserving to be a victim his wrath. Who the bloody hell did he think that he was, talking about Merlin as if he was nothing more than the stories people told about him. Just because Merlin was able to achieve amazing feats when others would've faltered, didn't mean Merlin didn't have a human side that he should be allowed to keep. Merlin was interested in standing up for what was right, and he was interested in spending time with the people who mattered to him despite their social standing, and he was interested in medicine and might wish he could follow in his uncle's footsteps, and he apparently even liked the chance to get his hands dirty in the garden. All of these little facts that Arthur knew about Merlin seemed to come to him, little bits and pieces of the puzzle that was his consort that he had always had trouble putting together. But it felt as if today was different. It felt as if some of those pieces might be starting to come together. And while that was just as frightening as his dream's been, it's nothing compared to how furious he was becoming with Jacqui.

"Well obviously, it's because you are the head of your family, my prince. You're the one that I go to if I have any grievances with the way your consort decided to handle things. I would be out of line if I thought to go to your consort just to speak to him about my problems myself. He is hardly going to listen to a single word a steward tries to tell him, so it only makes sense that you should be the one to do it. I would never want to be the one that gets in the middle of a royal couple, so I will obviously leave you to deal with your consort discreetly. Quite obviously, your family needs to be taken care of, and there are no others who'd be able to do it other than yourself, my liege."

Jacqui sounded as if he was simpering, quite similar to how he had done with Merlin when they had first strode into the gates the day before, acting as if he was welcoming them all, when in reality, he had simply been judging them with standards that were too rigid for a royal. Arthur's anger pulsed in his chest in a violent manner… he understood what Jacqui was telling him. Jacqui thought he could come to Arthur and tell him what his problems were and then expect the prince to fix them without issue. Jacqui expected Arthur to leap because there was no chance that Arthur would want to live with the embarrassment that was going to come if other people found his consort playing in the dirt. Jacqui had not gone to Merlin—perhaps because he had heard the stories of Merlin and all the many ways he defied what was expected of him, or he simply considered a man like Merlin to be too much trouble to contend with—because he wanted to have Arthur to his dirty work. Jacqui was so caught up with how the other lord and lady had ran this household, that he seemed to be under some delusion of Merlin needing to change himself in order to fit in with the mold that had been set by the former lord and lady of the manor. When in reality, it was everybody else that needed to change to fit in with what Merlin had planned for this dark estate.

"You're wrong."

Arthur's voice was colder and unforgiving than it had been the last time he had spoken, and it seemed to have finally got Jacqui's attention, because the other man was whipping his head around to look at him startled. But the tightness in his shoulders only relaxed, ease coming onto him as he stood firmly behind his consort and whatever the hell he wanted to do, without his consort knowing of it. Perhaps at one time, Arthur would have stormed down onto that field just so he could snatch Merlin up by the scruff of his neck and drag his consort to the house and throw him in the bed chambers that Arthur would definitely sleep in because who was Merlin to kick him out? Perhaps he would have screamed all about protocols and rules and how some activities were not meant for those of them who had royal hands. How getting dirt beneath his nails didn't make him any different than the thousands of peasants that littered their land. How such a thing would make Arthur look bad whenever the people started talking about his 'strange little consort' once again. But there were so very few times where Merlin was allowed to simply… be. So very few times for him to be happy or do what he enjoyed. Arthur had once taken pleasure in crushing whatever Merlin did that made him happy. And now, Jacqui was trying to take something that's making Merlin happy… away from him? Gardening was such a small and simple task despite the fruits of the labor given to them, and it seemed stupid to even try and take something like that away from him. Why, Arthur didn't even desire such a thing! That was Jacqui's issue! As Arthur would much sooner offer that boy of his all the land and supplies he needed to start a garden all his own. So it could flourish and grow and thrive in a way that Arthur hadn't allowed Merlin to do for so bloody fucking long.

"Let me make one thing perfectly clear, Jacqui. I do not care how the lord and lady ran this house before it was taken from them, but this home now belongs to my husband. Which means that anything and everything he says is what will be happening. If he wishes to have this entire house knocked down and rebuilt from the ground up, destroying each and every precious item that you seem to be clinging onto so desperately, than that is what we shall do. And if he wants to spend our entire weekend in that bloody garden doing whatever it is that he is doing down there, then that is also something he will do." Arthur hissed over at Jacqui as he pushed himself off of the balcony in order to stretch out all six foot of himself so he could tower over the shorter man. Intimidating the other man for daring to be as stupid as he was. "Which means, just so you are clear on the subject, Merlin is my HUSBAND. I am not acting as his commander, nor am I standing above him. You are not going to go over his head and come over to me because you think your wants are somehow more important than what it is that Merlin wants. He is my partner in life, and he is the head standing above all others in my household. And if you want me to be honest…"

Arthur stopped here for a second, taking in a large breath until he could feel it when they expanded in his chest to the point of bursting, holding it in until the strain of it started to weigh on him. He was probably being stupid saying this… he was a prince, and who in the world would admit that somebody held all the power over them and everything they did. Merlin was his husband, and he was now meant to spend his days standing behind Arthur, or beneath him in terms of hierarchy. That was the way that it had always been, and the way their world worked. It was nothing personal, just what was expected. But could Arthur say Merlin really stood beneath him when he was the reason Arthur continued with pushing himself everyday to do better and be better and fix the bridge that he knew should stand between them but had shattered beyond what anyone may have thought was reasonable to fix. And could Arthur really say the other was meant to stand beneath him when it was always Arthur that was standing just behind him, following after him no matter what dangerous situation he may've walked into, knowingly or not. And could Arthur really say Merlin was the one considered 'lesser than' when Arthur was the one who saw him as his pretty little angel tempting him with the strangest of dreams, leading Arthur straight to him as if he had a fishhook shoved into his gut and he was being reeled in by the consort. Arthur would be the first to say he didn't understand what was going on with him, and why he had these horrible dreams that only continued to mess him up so much that he couldn't even look at Merlin without feeling all the shame about what had happened, but he also knew others would not even begin to understand this… bond… Arthur had with Merlin. He wasn't even sure if that was the right word to use, or if this was a bond he wanted to watch as it festered into something else, but… he did know that he didn't want to go back to the man he was before.

Arthur didn't want to revert back to the monster that he was, whose very first instinct had been to grab Merlin and shake him about, to taunt him with all the closeness the two of them would never have past proximity. He didn't want to be the man that slapped around his husband until his husband was too scared to be in the same vicinity as him. He didn't want to be the man that was just so awful that he could drive his own husband past the breaking point, until Merlin became willing to hurt himself just to get away from him. He didn't want to be the man that preached about how insanely sorry he was about everything that he had ever done that caused his consort even the barest hint of pain, but also be the same man that dreamed about ramming himself so far down the throat of his husband that he had turned himself into a battering ram just to hurt him. Perhaps, in light of the dream, Arthur really wasn't any different despite all the changes he had strived to make in his attitude towards Merlin over the last few months, but he could at least do this. He could at least make sure these lesser people, like the steward, knew exactly where Merlin belonged in his life.

Arthur released the tight ball of air that had been building in his lungs.

"I breathe and I live only by his command."

The words Arthur spoke had such firm honestly in them, that it's managed to not only surprise the prince, but caused the steward's eyes to go as round as dinner plates were. Something like this could be considered a weakness, since Arthur had admitted so willingly how he only thrived when Merlin allowed him to. But it wasn't as if this was something Arthur would have been able to admit back home without it somehow getting to his father, and this was something to the prince. Something important. Something that had been brimming on top of his tongue ever since he watched Merlin swallowing poison just to get himself away from Arthur. Even with the dream still haunting his every waking moment every time he closed his eyes and saw flashes of the heat and the warmth that came with skin touching skin, his wicked smiles and daring storm colored eyes threatening to send Arthur beneath the shoreline until he drowned, he still felt as if those words were true. And if Merlin had walked right up to him right this very moment and ordered Arthur to slit his own throat, abandoning his people and leaving the throne up for grabs to anybody who would try and kick Merlin off his rightful place in Arthur's chair, than he would do it. If it made Merlin be happy just ONCE in Arthur's presence, than he would have choked on his own blood with a smile on his face, those blue eyes carrying him into the very pits of hell, knowing he would never be allowed a seat in heaven to wait until Merlin joined him. Some things were just justice. And what right would Arthur have to spend an eternity beside his consort when he still salivated after him as if he's a dog in heat.

None, that was it.

"I suspect we will not have to have this conversation again, Jacqui."

Arthur spoke his final words in a blunt tone, leaving no room for argument with the other man left to stutter haplessly behind him as the prince strode off the little balcony and back into the hallway. The air inside felt as if it was far colder than it was on the outside, and it only made his skin feel more clammy… sickly almost. But Arthur continued to stride forward, his legs feeling awkward, as if they had been made and crafted with gelatin in mind, until he was a few dozen hallways away from where he had left Jacqui. Arthur needed to be out of sight to make sure that nobody could see him when he finally couldn't hold back anymore. Arthur honestly didn't know how he had managed to talk with Jacqui this whole time without giving away how his body was shaking from the after effects of his scandalous dream. He didn't know how he had managed to stand on top of that balcony and look down at Merlin without alerting the other boy to his presence by dropping down onto his knees and screaming with the anguish his dreams had brought him. He didn't know how he was still walking, even when every step felt as if he was being swallowed up by his own crushing shame. He didn't know…

And finally…

Arthur did stop.

Arthur didn't even bother to find a bucket or something to keep the mess that he was making contained this time. He didn't think he could have made it one more single step to even track down one of the many cleaning closets that he was sure would house one. He could feel the acidic bile burning its way up his throat before he even realized he was at the end of his rope. And Arthur threw up right then and there, in the middle of the hallway, hot vomit escaping from him as he bent over at the waist, clutching onto his stomach as if it would have somehow held him back together. Arthur heaved and gasp for breaths, but the scent of the sickly smell encasing him only made his heave some more, as the grossest and foulest mess escaped him. He had tears that were heavy and just as hot streaming down his cheeks as he cried for… everything. He cried for the pain he had caused Merlin from the day the two of them had met in the stupid courtyard. He cried for every mocking word he had ever spit in Merlin's vicinity because he knew Merlin had deserved none of it. He cried for all the times that he had grabbed onto Merlin just to tease him because he thought it was fun to see him getting all riled up, even after Arthur realized how much he now hated to be touched. Arthur cried for each and every dreadful fantasy he'd ever had with Merlin in mind, grieving for every thought that had encouraged him to get those fantasies to become a reality. He cried for each time he had toed the line that had always been there and he wailed for when he had thrown himself over that line because of a stupid rumor that turned out to not be true. He cried as he remembered each and every time Merlin had told him it wasn't true, but he had turned his nose up at him in disgust. And he spewed more vomit as he felt each and every phantom touch of his dream embracing his body as acutely as if it was still happening to him, and the betrayal that came from ruining all the non-existent trust Merlin had in him. Arthur cried and cried harder than he had in that dreadful closer, until it felt as if he had nothing in his body left for more to come out.

And then Arthur would think of the flaccid cock in his trousers.

And he would remember the way his eyes had rolled into the back of his head as his body shook uncontrollably.

He would remember the orgasm that had felt as if it could shatter the entirety of his world.

He would remember the crushing shame that came as he felt his trousers stick to him from bodily fluids… he couldn't remember the last time he had indulged himself enough to have that liquid coming out of him.

And then he would throw up some more, his entire body spasming from all the strain this was putting on him.

But this was a punishment that was fitting for somebody as cruel as Arthur has been. He couldn't think of a more fitting punishment than drowning in his own sick. It was a death that was meant for drunkards who weren't able to control their own alcohol intake. Not the kind of death meant for a prince, who would only be seen as dying an honorable death if he went down fighting against an enemy threatening to take out his people. He would deserve to die like this, in such a pathetic manner… Arthur flinched violently and nearly came right out of his skin as a hand landed on top of his shoulder. Bringing to Arthur's attention that he was no longer in private, and could no longer mourn everything he had done and what he had lost because of his own stupidity. Arthur nearly wiped himself out in a clumsy display of acrobatics that was ill-befitting of a trained warrior, before he could get the new man in his vision. And Arthur still had to blink several times in order to clear up the wetness in his eyes to see who had dared to disturb what was clearly an intimate and private moment.

"…Leon?"

X

Merlin Pendragon was struggling to keep himself in a calm and steady mental state, in order to keep himself in order, because there was no telling what he'd be liable to do if he allowed himself to give in. He had already been through all this mind blowing one too many times to allow himself to fall off the deep end of panic so easily. But if he did… Merlin knew that he would already be locking himself away in his bed chambers, the only safe space he had that he would've been able to barricade before Arthur could intervene. It was a one room space and the only window was miles above the ground, making it impossible for the prince to get to him, so all Merlin would have to worry about was blocking off the door. He could push the couch in front of it, and maybe a few of the chairs to make it harder for Arthur to get to him. And if Merlin hadn't decided to leave his magic book behind just in case they were searched or something once they arrived, he was sure he could have found some kind of spell that could've kept anybody from coming through the door. Some kind of protection spell that was able to create a bubble of a sort around his space as an added layer just so he could have his peace of mind. If Arthur was really trying to get rid of him, then Merlin wasn't going to make it as easy for him as last time. He was ready to do whatever it was going to take him this time in order to preserve his own life.

Merlin bowed his head down in thought, his hands going stark tight around the strap he was now holding after having vacated the garden—and making mental notes to have proper seeds and equipment to make if flourish instead of them surviving on the bare minimum—to go to a whole new venue. He rode on top of the new horse that Arthur has claimed was his now, the dark coat gleaming so brightly under the sunlight as they rode in a slow trot just outside the gates of the estate. Merlin had been hesitant about going outside the gates, and Merlin had been even more hesitant about going when he remembered the horse had been a 'gift' from Arthur. Merlin had been being paranoid, convinced that there was every possibility that Arthur had done something else since his first try at murdering him hadn't panned out. Perhaps he had trained his horse to react in a violent manner and at some hidden cue, he would start bucking like crazy to try and get Merlin thrown off, where he would be helpless to do anything when the horse came down on him heavily, breaking his bones and possibly even his skull. But everything seemed to be fine so far, the horse seemed to be content to stride around the grassy exterior of the estate, moving around only when he had to dodge a couple of sheep standing in his way. But training the horse was not the only way to kill a man, and Merlin had done an extensive look-over with the saddle before he had even dared to climb onto the beast. As Merlin said to himself already… he wasn't taking any chances. And Merlin wasn't going to let Arthur get away with trying to murder him when one of the saddle straps tried to snap because somebody had cut it and Merlin still ending up trampled.

Merlin wasn't taking chances.

Merlin couldn't afford to take chances.

Merlin needed to keep himself two steps ahead of Arthur, no matter what the next attempt would be.

"Are you sure you're alright, Merlin? You've been awfully quiet ever since I got you from the gardens. I would have thought you would have been brimming to tell me everything that you've got planned for this place. You can't tell me that you don't already have at least ten different ideas already running through that head of yours." Said Lancelot, who had been the one to find the consort sitting all by himself in the garden where Luna had left him, her warning still trying to hold him still and frozen in the worse of ways. And in a way, despite the desire Merlin had to be alone in order to collect his thoughts, Lancelot had given him the steady hand he needed to keep moving. There was no telling how long the consort would have sat there, shaking beneath his skin at having to go through all of this trauma all over again, if the man hadn't unknowingly intervened. "I'm interested myself in hearing them if you want somebody to bounce off ideas of what you're thinking about. I might have a few notes that I can add to it, or I'm here if you just want someone to listen. There's an ample amount of things you change around and probably a few dozen opportunity you can do with the land itself."

Merlin threw his head to the side, knocking the bangs that had fallen into his eyes out of the way to avoid looking over at Lancelot, who was riding the same horse he had been given when he was told to leave Camelot, right beside him. That was right, Merlin was supposed to be out here doing this little survey and exploring the grounds that were part of his 'winnings' but weren't inside of the main gates. As he'd spent a majority of the day before inside the gates, taking his fill on what he had despite most of the day being taken up by that grudge match between Lancelot and Arthur, it only made sense that Merlin look a little more closely at what else he could mess around with. Merlin was supposed to be concentrating on what would be the best area to get their side of a road set up, and what would be a good spot of land to have a pen set up so they could do something proper with all the sheep's hanging around, and whether or not it would be a good idea to have a guard tower built to keep watch for intruders or the like, as Merlin had noticed there didn't seem to be anything already built like that. And probably a thousand other things that should have Merlin's focus and full attention. But it was hard to concentrate on… where he could find any maps of the area so he would know what the best path through the forest may be for a street to be enacted, when he had his murder hanging over his head.

"I'm thinking… I'm thinking about what it would be like to live here in the estate full time."

It probably wasn't what Lancelot had been expecting him to say, Merlin noted only when he saw his first guard whipping his head around to look at him with stunned surprise. It caused Merlin to duck his head down even further, hating himself for going back and forth the way he was. He had already decided JUST this morning to put such thoughts behind him, because he didn't want to leave his uncle. But here he was again, deciding staying here might be the only real option he had if he hoped for his increased survival. Once Arthur and the rest of the knights left the day after tomorrow when the long weekend came to an end, Merlin wouldn't be nearly as worried about his own personal safety. There would be no reasons for statues to fall when he was just standing outside, and he wouldn't need to be diligent about checking his horse's saddle, and he also wouldn't need to watch his food being made in case of poisoning, or refusing to sleep unless he had his room barricaded to prevent Arthur from sneaking in at night and trying to slit his throat. Merlin didn't know what else Arthur might have up his sleeve, but he simply needed to survive the weekend.

"I know that it sounds absolutely insane when you think about it… me staying here by myself instead of returning to Camelot with my uncle and staying with the people I've known there all this time. But this place… it feels really special to me, and like you said, there so many ideas I have for the land that I couldn't possibly leave before I get even the bare minimum set up." Merlin said, giving a short shrug of his shoulders as he continued avoiding Lancelot's eye. It was probably something Merlin should speak up about, Arthur's sudden attack on him, considering the man was his guard and it was literally his duty to protect Merlin from anybody meaning to do him harm, even if that person happened to be his own husband. But… Merlin pushed his shoulders back as a sudden flare of determination flooded through him… he was stronger than Arthur. If he had survived five months with that man, then he could survive a weekend without letting on that he knew what Arthur was planning. And unlike before, he knew what his limits were. Merlin could always change his mind in a few hours if he decided he needed somebody to watch his back. Merlin shook his head before tightening his hands around his reins, a gentle smile on his lips, feeling a little brighter because he knew something that he hadn't known before. He wasn't alone. He never had been. But at least this time… he could feel it inside of his heart. And that made all the difference in the world. "I just think that it would be easier for me to oversee everything if I was actually here on the property so I wouldn't be miles away and corresponding everything I want over letters that I'll get. I mean… I'm supposed to be coordinating with the steward who should be the physical presence on site who will keep me updated on the process but I'm not entirely sure I trust Jacqui to do things right. He seems kind of… odd. It wouldn't surprise me if he wrote things to placate me instead of what's really happening, you know?"

And after the last five months of living underneath Arthur's roof, Merlin's used to people fudging the truth or dismissing his concerns or pretending that he's the one overreacting. It definitely wasn't something Merlin's willing to put up with beneath a roof that was essentially supposed to be his. He was beginning to find it easier and easier to read the signs when people were trying to lie to him or manipulate him or make his lower his guard for some alternate purpose to get Merlin to do what they wanted. Merlin wasn't even surprised to know his husband had been manipulating him for the past two days, probably ever since they had gotten back together, and perhaps even from those first moments. A horse had been given to him—a bloody horse, of all the expensive things to be given to him—within the first five minutes of seeing Arthur for the first time in weeks. Merlin only felt bloody stupid for it taking this long for him to know why Arthur was being so nice to him these last two days. Merlin had assumed all of it was simply so Arthur could get him to relax around him before he took a turn and revealed himself to be the same old abusive arse that Merlin already knew lingered beneath the mask he was putting on for him. Merlin had thought all of the niceness was just so Arthur could get a good laugh out of seeing his hope dropping the second he gave up the act and slapped him again. How could he have known that Arthur making sure he had the biggest piece of rabbit during dinner when they were camping, and Arthur asking him if he was cold and if he wanted to wear his cloak to be warm, and throwing a 'worrying fit' over Merlin wandering away in the woods to collect firewood, and even 'offering' Merlin to sleep in the bed by himself while he slept on the floor, was all for reasons that were far more sinister than what it had seemed at the time.

"Well… I definitely don't fault you for not wanting to work on your project here from a distance, especially if Jacqui is your main correspondence. I've known the man myself for only a week and I wouldn't trust him as far as I'd be able to throw him. He's completely full of himself, and what little power he was given over the servants seems to have gone to his head. He snaps often at each and every little mistake as if they were made as some sort of slight against him and dismisses people who might actually need him or have a good idea on how to fix any conflicts or problems that crop up. It's not a good look for a man who's been put in charge of a group of people, no matter how small that group even is. He even tried to command me when I first arrived by putting me to work in the kitchens with the other peasants. Supposed he thought that was… a fitting place for me considering my lack of important bloodline. And seemed as if he was quite upset with me when I corrected him and said that I would be going over the security of the estate to check how many places one could enter the grounds. I'm not entirely satisfied… I wouldn't argue against putting up some proper guard towers to help see at a wider distance if people are making their way up to the estate."

Lancelot spoke with a slow and deliberate tone, as if he was truly thinking hard about how to respond to Merlin's sudden declaration. And yeah, what Lancelot said about Jacqui was pretty much what Merlin expected to hear, which made Merlin wonder how Jacqui had even gotten the job in the first place, since the steward was supposed to be a bridge between the nobility and the peasants living beneath their roof. Merlin couldn't even remember if Jacqui had spoken or anything after the statue had tried to kill him, and that sounded as if it was something he should have done considering he was supposed to be the guide for them. Apologized or made sure they were okay or something! Although the other man was probably just as stunned as Merlin had been when it happened to them. Merlin still wasn't entirely sure how it had happened… the consort felt his brows creasing into the center of his forehead, trying to think of a few odd pieces that didn't quite fit the puzzle. How HAD Arthur managed to rig it to fall right when Merlin had been standing underneath it? He had been standing not too far away from Merlin—creeper than he was—the entire time they've been at the estate. Though Arthur had also been the one that suggested he have that fight with Lancelot, which would have brought them all outside to where he'd be in the statue's range. It was only a matter of Merlin getting to the right spot at the wrong time. And… obviously Arthur was trying to get rid of him because he was finally tired of seeing Merlin hanging around… but then why did Arthur bother to save him if the plan was to kill him? Merlin had been all of two short seconds away from being squished to death when Arthur had shown up out of nowhere and shoved Merlin out of the way. Unless… unless Arthur had tried to save Hadrian, who wasn't meant to be standing so close to Merlin whenever it fell, and had simply ran into Merlin instead. The pieces didn't exactly fit as the consort would like, it still felt as if he was missing an answer or two, but Merlin knew Hadrian was a knight and he knew how important the knights were to the prince. They had practically been safeguarded by Arthur, protected despite all the wrong they did in his name, just because they were knights. Of course, it's been different the last few weeks, ever since Arthur started publicly ruining all the knights he caught in the act of hurting Merlin in one way or another, but of course those moments had all been Arthur's act.

Arthur probably wouldn't have tried to save Hadrian if he knew the man was a sorcerer.

"It probably would be loads easier if you were on the grounds and could make any last minute adjustments or corrections you catch the further into all of this work you want done. I'm sure it'll be easier to catch mistakes if you saw it with your own eyes instead of reading it in a letter days later. And the estate would be a… calmer place compared to Camelot. And probably safer for you to be as well. And it's not in the city, so I would actually be able to stay near you during your time here, as it won't affect my being banished. I don't see many reasons why it would be a bad idea if that's something you want to do, especially since Camelot's not exactly the best place for you most of the time. I was only there for a week and didn't like what I saw. But, I mean… are you sure you want to go and get something like that started? It'd be moving to a new place, where you are unfamiliar with the people who already live here, and you'd be cut off from what you DO know life is like in Camelot. Personally, I think I would have taken whatever chance this was and leave Camelot the second I could, but… this is a decision you should think about before just making. I'll support you no matter which choice you make, but it's not exactly something you should think about lightly."

Merlin felt himself straightening up on his horse—he didn't consider himself to be the best rider, especially since he's only been on a horse a scant few times, most of which were only since being in Camelot, but he was at least staying on its back—with a bit more confidence. Now, this was why Merlin liked to be with Lancelot so much. Many of the people in his life, no matter how much he knew they cared about him or didn't care at all, often made Merlin feel like he had to keep second guessing his choices. And perhaps Merlin did need to take some time to just… think about what needed to be done and be smart about it before committing himself to something he might not be able to get out of later on. It was something Merlin was trying to do now. He was trying to think about all of his options and what he could do about this latest threat to his life, instead of storming up to Arthur and confronting him head on, demanding in a public way to know what had made the prince go from wanting him near—to an unhealthy degree—to trying to kill him off. But Lancelot didn't make him feel as if he had to second guess himself. Lancelot didn't even know all the information on why Merlin was wanting to do this, didn't understand that Merlin was using the new project he had as a proper means of escaping Arthur. Lancelot had just simply laid out a few key points Merlin needed to be aware of, and even pointed out a few facts Merlin might not have considered, before leaving that choice within his hands. Merlin liked that about his knight, the fact that he was afraid to say what he was thinking but would follow Merlin even if he was probably thinking it was a stupid idea. Merlin had a lot of stupid ideas sometimes, and it felt nice to not have to justify himself.

"Actually, Camelot hasn't been all that bad, for the most part these days. It has a lot to do with that whole griffin attack on the city while you were locked away in your prison cell, you know. Many of the people aren't trying to… ridicule me in the streets these days. I mean, most of the knights have seemed to taken to simply avoiding me, which I think is a godsend itself." Merlin said, with a shake of his head, and trying not to think about how much of that had to do with how Arthur had before during the week Lancelot had been in town. Taking down his own knights if they simply looked wrong in Merlin's direction… the dark haired boy shook his head once again. Arthur must have really been committed to his whole act back then, if he was willing to knock his own men down. It was only a shame, but not unexpected, that Arthur was finally growing tired of trying to pretend he liked being around Merlin. "But many of the servants and even the people who live in the town have been being extra nice to me. Trying to see if they can get me something when I'm simply taking a walk, or trying to give me stuff from their stalls. Personally, I think they just feel guilty for the five horrid months of enmity they've been given me. It's really weird seeing people who'd taken to spitting at my feet every time I tried going into the market now racing after me to offer me their wares. I keep having to decline because now I would feel bad for them losing a profit by giving me free stuff they can't afford to just give away."

Merlin shook his head for the third time, thinking about the wide and sprawling streets that made up Camelot's marketplace. It was so large and with so many different types of stalls that Merlin could never hope to explore them all, even though there had been a fair few times where he had tried, the week that he'd been looking for a job of his own being one of them. And it wasn't a bad place to be these days, not now that there were actually people who waved at him or smiled or talked as if they were friends instead of an outsider. Perhaps all this was fake… the people there weren't his friends. Not since many of them were contributors to Merlin sinking into the dark state he had been in, since they'd made the marketplace so unbearable for him to escape to. But Merlin knew to not look a gift horse in the mouth. And besides… they actually liked him these days because Merlin had proven himself to a vast majority of the city. Sure, he had to be nearly mauled to death by a griffin after he had raced out to save all the people he could trapped in the courtyard without a stitch of amor or guard stationed to him, but the people's acknowledgement is actually something the consort has earned. And he was going to miss the sights and the smells, all of the complete chaos that came from entering a place with so many people that came from different backgrounds. There wasn't anything like that around this estate. It was going to be the same seven people who had lived here before he had showed up, at least until they got a proper road and some kind of trade to the nearby villages established. And that itself could very well take months to do before they saw it getting anywhere. But… survival was far more important to Merlin than the paranoia he would have to live with as he continued looking over his shoulder while waiting for what Arthur's next attack would be.

"I'm glad to hear it, Merlin. I can't lie and say that I haven't worried about you and what's been happening since I was forced to leave the city. I know there's people there that have been looking out for you long before my path ever even graced yours, but those people also have lives of their own and cannot always be there if something happened. But it's good to know that there's places you can go where you do not have to worry about your immediate safety." said the knight at his side, straightening his shoulders as a hint of frustration creased a line into his brow. Merlin bit back a grin, as he saw the way the sigil Merlin had given to Lancelot all those weeks ago, with the bird about to take flight, only a small representation of his blood family's crest, glinted brightly underneath all the sunlight beaming down on them. He knew Lancelot's banishment was one of great tragedy. He should have never been forced to leave the city because of a few simple… fraudulent charges. But Merlin also knew Lancelot's greatest frustrations came not from being forced to leave the one place he had always thought would be where he settled down at, but because he didn't like how he was cut off from Merlin. It felt… nice… to have somebody who wanted to look out for him so much, that they would devote their life to do it by agreeing to be his 'first knight.' And it was nice to see how seriously Lancelot took the role he had been given. "And hey, if you look at it this way, staying out here wouldn't really change too much. Other than… the immediate problems you might have there. You are only a day's ride away from Camelot, so I'm certain that it would not stop your uncle from coming out here to see you as much as he can. And I am certain even Lady Morgana wouldn't mind making the trip. I know that I've only seen her scantly when I was actually in the city, but she seemed to care a great deal for you."

Merlin's smile, coming to him easier and easier as each day past him by with no incidents that would threaten to sink the fragile safety net he's worked so hard to build over the last few weeks, was not going to be stolen away due to Arthur's sudden decision to kill him. His life was being threatened and Arthur was out there right now, probably plotting on a way to get rid of him without it being tied back to him, but Merlin still bloody smiled. Because Lancelot's way more than just… his knight. He was his friend, as well. And he wasn't the only friend he had. He had Morgana, who had already showed she wouldn't hesitate to turn against Arthur at every slight he made against Merlin. And would most likely be the first to connect the dots if Arthur—even with Merlin fighting with all the strength of somebody fearing they wouldn't see tomorrow—managed to get him in the end. And he had his uncle, who had already promised he would commit treason itself if Merlin expressed an interest to escape from the city by other means that weren't… entirely acceptable to the court. He had people to stand by him, and people who would stand in his corner. Arthur might have an entire castle full of guards and other nobles and his own father who would be more than pleased to sweep any evidence of Arthur having a hand in Merlin's death underneath the rug. But not everybody would stay silent.

And Merlin, well… hadn't he already proven he wasn't so easy to kill.

"Oh, Lancelot, Morgana dnd Gaius aren't the only ones that would come out to visit me this far out if I do make the decision to stay here. I am sure that you're missing somebody else who has… pretty much been my best friend since I was first introduced to Camelot's noble and most esteemed court." Merlin said with an accent that was far too snooty, and an almost direct mocking way of all the ways Arthur had spoken to him in the past. He wasn't being forced to survive a direct attack from the prince right now, so why not make fun of the man whose behavior had already tried to kill Merlin in the past, and failed to keep him on a deathbed. And besides, the accent was worth it when he saw Lancelot starting to blush, clearly getting what Merlin had been putting out there. This moment right here, with Lancelot flustered and embarrassed and not knowing what he should say… these were the moments Merlin lived for. These were the kinds of moments that everybody should live for. Not just the big ones, like being put in charge of major projects that could prove his ability to take charge or not, but the smaller ones as well. The moments that included teasing and laughter and just… being alive. Merlin had worked hard to have moments like this, and each one of them was more precious than the last. Moments that Merlin made sure to savor every time he could. "Perhaps you, even, might know who it is that I'm talking about? She has so much curly brown hair, and her eyes are so… big and bright and brown. She's really the sweetest girl I've ever met, and willing to do anything for a friend. I mean, she even once helped me commit my fraudulent charges by sewing together a complete wardrobe for this one guy I know so he would look like a knight! She seemed quite smitten by him, and I just know that he wasn't exactly shying away from her attentions."

By the time Merlin was done speaking, Lancelot's face had turned this almost blistering red color, his mouth opening and closing as if he were a fish after he was mentioned in Merlin's little story about how he had met Gwen. There had been a reason as to why Lancelot hadn't spoken about Gwen when he'd been mentioning the people who might like to come out this way just to see little old him. He obviously still very much liked her. And as far as Merlin actually knew about it, their relationship had been put into some sort of limbo-like state after everything that had gone down between in the city. Merlin didn't have any kind of love-life to speak of, considering his 'partner' was on a quest to end him for good, but if Lancelot stuck by him, then nothing would thrill him more than just seeing his two friends get somewhere. Merlin had already mourned and moved on, for the most part, that he would never have what Lancelot and Gwen had in the works. He could at least make sure their interest in each other was allowed to flourish. Perhaps he was still a romantic at heart, and that was one part that he wanted to keep, something that Arthur couldn't touch, even if his days were filled with survival rather than picnics. One of the most regretful things Merlin has seen in the last few days before this trip, was how many times that he had caught Gwen staring out the window and looking off in the distance with a far-away look in her eyes. One of the saddest things in the world was seeing such two kind hearted people, and watching the strong connection they shared in a short time-frame, and knowing he played a hand in it being doomed. But with this estate, perhaps there was some hope left. Not just for him and what little freedom he could get, but for Lancelot and Gwen as well.

"You know… Gwen doesn't really talk much about you these days. I think she's actually preferring to pretend that you don't exist at all. I think it's easier to do it considering you practically walked into town one moment and then vanished from our lives the next. But… you certainly left your mark on all of us. But I do believe the mark you left on Gwen was something… quite different." Spoke the consort, deciding to drop all pretenses that came with his teasing. Just as the consort had no interest in allowing Arthur to steal his precious moments from him even as he plots his death, Merlin had no interest in playing games when Lancelot had the ability to touch on something that was far realer than what he could touch. Merlin had survived… much… in the early days, and he was going to keep living in spite of Arthur and his treacherous plots. And it was only after Merlin watched Lancelot lower his head, looking as if Gwen's ache could have been his own, did he speak. "The only reason she doesn't speak of you is only because I am sure that it hurts too much to do so. She likes you, very much. It wouldn't surprise me, if she managed to leave the city and come see me here one of these days, that you and her could very well pick things off where you left."

The handmaiden to the ward of a king and the common first knight to the royal consort of Camelot… it wasn't the kind of ballad that most people would have listened to during parties and such. Most of the stories told were either stories of princesses trapped in towers who needed to have this brave and handsome prince to come and save them. Or spoke of brave and heroic stories that were about these same princes fighting in some gruesome battle while coming out of the battle, somehow, without a scratch on them. Gross retellings that were nothing to do with the reality of life. But this was actually a story Merlin quite wanted to be around long enough to see. He wanted to see a world in which he did not have to hide out at an estate that he only had by chance, because two overzealous knights had tried to take him out, just so he could see his chances for survival increasing. He wanted to see a world where Lancelot wouldn't end up hanging from the gallows if he went to visit Gwen in Camelot. He wanted to see a world in which Gwen wouldn't have to leave the only home that she has known if she ever wanted a real future by this man's side. But as Merlin knew to be true for quite some time now… not everybody got the kind of future they wished to have. But as Merlin had also learned…

That was no reason not to fight for it.

"Merlin, I get what you are saying, I really do. You have no idea how much I do wish that things could be different for me and her. I mean, I have no regrets to where I ended up. It has only been a month since I accepted your proposal to make me your royal guard, and I have loved every second of being able to ride around in your name and do great work under your seal." Lancelot spoke with a passion that Merlin, more often than not, felt like he didn't deserve, but who was he to question what got Lancelot all worked up. Merlin was exited to turn a desolate estate into something grand, profitable, and safe for people to live and work! He clearly had no room to talk, as embarrassing as it was to be the one to be the topic of such passion. Lancelot though, shook his head, tugging a little on his horse's reins to allow a flock of sheep to pass them by. "There is only a short time I was allowed to speak to Guinevere during my week there in Camelot, and the last two days I was there where I could spend almost every waking moment by her side before I had to go was… beautiful. I still carry that favor she gave to me amongst my belongings because it's the only thing that I have to prove to me that she was real. She's… like you said, the sweetest girl I have ever met, willing to open her door to a stranger if he needed her help. It would… I would be honored if she would be willing to have me at all. But there is no telling how long we will be separated. Either we will have to wait years to be together, and that will only happen if Arthur decides to lift my banishment after he becomes king, or she would… have to leave her home for me. And I'm not her husband. I cannot ask her to wait years just for me, or to leave behind all she knows when… she could very well change her feelings for me the next time we meet."

The self-deprecation in Lancelot's voice was an almost vivid reminder of all of the times Merlin had spoken the same way. How many times had he used that exact tone as he dismissed everything that had been happening to him—all of the abuse from the knights and the people and Arthur himself—only because he hadn't wanted to bother his loved ones with it. He knew differently; Merlin knew that they would WANT to be bothered by his problems instead of feeling helpless when something happened that was out of Merlin's control. In fact, it was probably why Merlin should go and tell somebody what Arthur planned to do to him, if not Lancelot than at least his uncle. But Merlin felt stronger than he ever did before when in a fight against Arthur Pendragon. He had people to fight for, a life he refused to leave unless fate decreed it, and a role that Merlin very much wanted to see to here at the estate. He had to wonder though, with the way Lancelot was speaking, if he had ever sounded as stupid as the other knight did. Lamenting about problems that weren't there, or problems that he didn't need to fight alone but had insisted on holding the burden. Friends were meant to be there to carry the load, and tell each other when they were being so utterly stupid about something.

"Lancelot, anybody with eyes can tell that you and Gwen have a connection. It is more obvious, I believe, than you even recognize. You don't have to ask her to wait around for you or leave her home or anything like that, though I actually do think Gwen would be more than willing as long as she knew there was some kind of future waiting for the two of you. Something real that most of us dream about but know it's unrealistic." Merlin said, waving a dismissive hand when he saw the way Lancelot was starting to look mournfully at him, as if he was able to recognize the pain that had once haunted the consort. Yes, it was very sad that he would never get such a thing, but love and connection and feeling that safety he could get with only one other person in the entire world who he was able to trust and knew him completely without fearing him… they felt so small of a thing to want when survival was more important. Perhaps Arthur had killed his desire for love, but he had only awoken Merlin's need to live just so he was able to spite the prince. "Besides, it's not as if the two of you have to rush into an official courtship and work your way towards marriage or anything like that. Even I think such a thing would be way too fast considering how shortly you've known each other. But there's no reason why you can't start with something so small, that it'll open the doorway and potential for more. Perhaps you might be willing to start with, oh… say a letter?"