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!

169. Chaoter 171

This chapter is dedicated to Khalafani, who pointed out to me that a trial for what Bryon and Julian did would be similar to what happened during Valiant, when Merlin tried to speak before the council and got turned away because nobody believed him. So Merlin's little freak out at the end is thanks to this ;p

X

Merlin Pendragon woke up in his small cot the next morning…he stayed in that blissful spot that drifted between sleeping and being aware of the morning sun that has came to greet him for as long as he possibly could. It wasn't often the consort got to stay in his bed for as long as he pleased, when he wasn't having a crisis that felt too great for him to overcome. But eventually, as all things the sorcerer had come to know, it came to an end. The birds chirping their waking up song outside his window was the only soundtrack to Merlin prying himself out of his bed. As blissful as that moment had been, his muscles felt as if they were being weighed down by a thousand stones. The wood beneath his feet was insanely unpleasant when he swung his legs over, freezing enough to cast this even more unpleasant chill to roll up Merlin's long and incredibly naked legs. A thin material such as his undergarments, stretched across his thighs, did very little to protect him from the cold. Not even his sleeping tunic gave him an inch of relief. It would be so easy for Merlin to climb back into his bed, drag his only blanket around him in order to preserve his warmth, and drift back to sleep till his new problems somehow solved themselves without his interference.

But…no.

Merlin thinned his lips before pushing himself off the bed to prepare himself for whatever this new day may bring to him. He wasn't going to get caught in his bed again, wasn't going to sink back into his depression just because he'd been caught in something terrible, the consort thought as he carefully spread his blankets out over his bed. Making sure to tuck in the edges of the blanket beneath the straw mattress, spreading his hands across the frame until it was unable to get any straighter. Merlin could probably bounce a coin on it. Merlin wasn't going to allow his depression to sink its claws into him just because he found it easier than talking to Lancelot, the consort thought as he opened his wardrobe and started pulling his clothes together. Today, he decided to wear a burnt orange tunic instead of his blue tunic, and his brown trousers and his broken down brown boots. He laid each article of clothing out on his bed, along with a fresh set of undergarments, as neat as can be. Even going so far as to brush a wrinkle out of the fabric (there weren't any wrinkles) and readjusting the tunic so it lined up neatly with the pants, his boots lined up at the foot of the bed. It held no practical reason for Merlin doing this other than his own neurotic state of mind, as he stepped back so he could close his wardrobe door quietly. That door though, was all lopsided and not set into its frame as correctly as it must have been at one point, pretty standard for a wardrobe meant for a peasant. It was something Merlin might entertain fixing, everything else in his room rested exactly where it should be, there was no reason why his wardrobe shouldn't be doing the same.

This…Merlin thought as he started to undress, tugging his sleeping tunic over his head, folding it up as neat as can be, and returning it to the foot of his bed until he needed it the next night…this had been the way Merlin had been living his life ever since he was healed enough from his poisoning to walk around on his own. Everything needed to have a certain order about it, they had to be at a ninety degree angle and folded clothes needed to be lined up from one fold to the next, the crate carrying his royal outfits was lined neatly right beneath the frame of his window, and the little chest with the lotus flower carved onto the top was on the very edge of his nightstand. Covered in dust after having gone completely untouched in the last two months since Arthur had ruined it, but at least it was neatly lined against the edges of the table. Even his magic book hadn't been spared, Merlin had fidgeted with it for hours before he had been happy with it being lined up with the line that separated one floorboard from the next…there was only so many places though, he had been able to put it within the confides of the small hole beside his bed.

Merlin had never worried about such things before, he had honestly thrived in a more messy workspace. Or living space. He had always been on the move, or had someplace that he needed to go or be. It had left him content to throw his belongings around, leaving what little he had on the floor or his blankets strung out across the floor, simply because he didn't have the time to fix things as he should. But Merlin's neurotic behavior stemmed from his desire to control the things around him…he had completely lost control yesterday, when Arthur had told Lancelot exactly who he was. And being lost on how to fix it, he had done what he could do…returning to what he'd been doing before Lancelot showed up and messed up the orderly way he had things. Both personal belongings as well as his lifestyle…he had allowed himself to grow complicit with his growing excitement over the freshness Lancelot had brought into his life. But now that Lancelot probably wasn't going to stick around for much longer…

Merlin needed to return to how things were.

Even if it was the bleak existence of keeping his life on a careful schedule…

And speaking of his schedule…

Merlin took himself a heavy breath before sitting on the edge of his bed, his hands fluttering anxiously on either side of his thighs. This has been another thing Merlin had neglected to do during these last few days, but he could've hardly done it when Lancelot was in the room. It was far too embarrassing to know somebody might watch him do this, but doing this has became a part of his routine just as everything else had been. Skipping over it made him feel as if his whole 'getting dressed' ritual was going to go incomplete. And he would have trouble focusing for the rest of the day, it would throw his entire routine off to the wayside if his thoughts kept returning to it, the way he'd constantly be wondering if 'today' was the day that something happened. If today was a day in which the sparks of warmth would dance up his spine…like it had done before…

Merlin, after listening for a heartbeat of a second to make sure nobody was walking up the stairs that would interrupt him, carefully parted his thighs. He had never had a reason to spread his legs apart like this before he had started this whole ritual, and it had felt extremely awkward the first couple of times he had done this. Terrified he was going to be walked in on and questioned about what he was doing…feeling as if his private area was being put on display even through his trousers. But nowadays, after four weeks of doing it, minus the last two or three days in which his schedule had been offset, it felt easier. A tiny bit more practiced, easier, now that he somewhat knew what he was doing. But it seemed as if spreading his legs was the only thing he knew how to do, Merlin thought with a pitiful pout as he brought his fingers up to that spot among his inner thigh. The spot in which Arthur had tormented so relentlessly the night of the banquet, under the table during the proceedings, and even while King Uther had been talking to them at one point.

Merlin pressed his finger into the little knot of nerves that was supposed to be there, circling through his trousers just as Arthur had done, but…nothing. The consort frowned…it had felt…interesting, when Arthur had done it. All warmth building in his stomach, sending out these hot flashes through the rest of him that he could hardly explained. It had been the one and only time that Arthur'd touched him during those days that didn't make him feel like scrubbing it clean to erase his touch. He just didn't understand what Arthur had done that made something…strange…awaken in the pit of Merlin's stomach. It had been unlike anything he had ever felt before. And Merlin had truly done everything that he could to awaken the same response, just so he could understand a bit more on what had happened. He had tried rubbing so hard that it felt as if he was only scrubbing his skin raw. He had tried a more gentle approach, as if Merlin was trying to coax something out of hiding. He had done it brief and quick as if he was trying to surprise something into happening. And he had spent almost an hour trying to get a reaction. He had tried multiple spots on that thigh, even on the other just in case he had gotten the wrong spot, but…he knew that he had not. And Merlin always returned to the one coin shaped spot that Arthur liked to play with. Considering Arthur had a habit of imprinting his touch on Merlin, he thought he would know if he was doing the wrong spot.

But fuck it, it wasn't as if Merlin could just go up to Arthur and ask him what he had done. If Merlin had thought the idea of Gaius walking in on him was an embarrassing thought, then his entire body felt as if it wanted to burst into a flame at the mere idea of walking up to Arthur and questioning why his thigh wasn't working properly? But it was even worse than that…Merlin couldn't say for sure whether or not Arthur would actually explain things to him. Or if Arthur would try and…demonstrate what he was doing wrong. The night they had got to the banquet was one thing…Merlin had been too stunned, frozen in shock at what was happening, to put up much of a fight. But having it done twice…there was no way Merlin could explain shock at not stopping Arthur that time. Or the level of insanity he must be going through to EVER open his legs and let that selfish and arrogant prince have full access to show Merlin. It felt…vulnerable, and like Merlin was completely disregarding everything Arthur had done just to satisfy his own curiosity.

Others might claim there was something wrong with Merlin…

But he wasn't crazy.

But it didn't really matter anyway; because it wasn't going to happen and this whole thing wasn't even working for him once again. With a frustrated sigh, he released himself and stood back up from his bed. Another morning trying and another morning failing…he knew he would try again just to see if anything was different about his body's reaction. Though that was the last thing on Merlin's extensive ritual, so he walked out of his little room and took the steps one at a time…bounding down them two at a time like he usually did, wanting to get to where he was going as fast as he could and the steps taking too long, was a leading cause of stair related death. And considering Merlin had tried to take his own life at one point, he wasn't willing to do anything that would risk him dying by accident. It was an over the top precaution, but just one more habit he had formed that he rarely thought about nowadays.

Merlin wasn't surprised though, when he reached the bottom of the steps and looked around, that nobody was there. Gaius, it would seem, had already taken his leave to do the usual morning rounds he did, delivering medicine to the tiny handful of people that weren't able to walk the long mile to Gaius' quarters. He also found, to no surprise under closer inspection, that Lancelot had also took the morning to flea, probably back to the stables where he was working till the prince called for him, if Arthur called for him. The only evidence that he'd been there at all, was the single folded blanket Lancelot had slept with last night, he could see it was now resting on the edge of the table. Merlin felt a pang deep in his chest…had Lancelot been that desperate to escape him, that he'd taken off the second morning had risen? His chest ached profusely, knowing that he had wanted to try and talk to Lancelot today. But…it seemed that wasn't in the cards for his future.

This was usually the point that a small thing would feel like a mountain to the consort, and he would retreat to his room to have himself a good and long cry to settle himself down. But there wasn't any time for that, not if Merlin wanted to return to his old schedule. He blinked back the wet sheen, hardened up his heart the only way that he could, and rolled up the sleeves of his jacket before readjusting his deep blue neckerchief. He went straight to work, pulling out the book Gaius had on taking care of fresh wounds…he wanted to be as prepared as he could for when Gaius gave him some lessons on stitching a wound, he's sure it would be more helpful then just tying his neckerchief around it like he'd done with Lancelot. Besides, his mornings was usually dedicated to reading all that he could, studying deeper into the medical text, though reading about the healing process was hardly a substitute for actual experience, which he hoped to gain at some point or another…

Studying was the one thing he could do that wouldn't hurt somebody else…

X

Lancelot was sitting on a crate just outside of the stables, focused intently on his work as he scraped the gunk off of a horse's shoe. Nobody could entirely say for sure what was on it, Lancelot had been sure it was mud but it definitely didn't smell like mud, and he hadn't bothered questioning it more than that. He wasn't entirely sure he wanted to know what he was touching all over, but the warrior didn't complain as he scraped another section off. The horse couldn't really have all that stuff on it…it could cause injury if the horse stepped on it wrong, or slow them down when a knight needed them to be at its fastest, and …Lancelot blew a heavy exhale of air out of his mouth as he carefully scraped another layer of the gunk off. Let's be real here, Lancelot understood perfectly well why taking care of a horse was important. Especially since these horses had came from the royal palaces stables and were often used by the knights on missions out of the kingdom. But these horses weren't exactly important to him RIGHT NOW.

There was only one thing that wouldn't leave his mind…Merlin.

Or in other words…Merlin Pendragon, the Consort of Camelot.

The very man Lancelot had been dying to meet these last few months.

Lancelot had tossed and turned all night, unable to catch more than an hour of sleep here and there, always being forced awake by new thoughts that liked to come to him in his dreams. The little hints Lancelot had seen returning to him in the forefront of his mind, things Lancelot should've seen and understood as they happened, but dismissed because it didn't seem important at the time. It was Gaius, who had been concerned about leaving Merlin alone with him that first morning. Lancelot had simply dismissed it as an uncle worried about his nephew. But perhaps Gaius' worries had stemmed from a more political kind of standpoint…it was rather reckless to leave a consort alone with a stranger. A stranger could have done away with Merlin and been on his merry way before Gaius had returned. And then there was Guinevere…when him and Merlin had gone to her for his measurements, she had spoken so casually about the other boy that Lancelot would've never guessed there was a title attached onto his name. Bold, for a serving girl. But beneath her words, Guinevere had carried a certain…respect in her tone that one simply didn't use when they were talking to an ordinary friend. Gwen had said Merlin had helped her through this tough time in her life…Lancelot was dying to know what it was, and how Guinevere was doing after whatever ordeal had hurt her, but it also made him wonder if Merlin being consort had been what had helped her. Merlin had clearly done something to have earned such loyalty from the handmaiden, but…that wasn't any surprise if all the stories Lancelot had heard was true.

But then there were other things that hadn't added up to Merlin being a simple nephew to the Royal physician…like all of that clothing in the chest that he had stumbled into. Even now, Lancelot's cheeks were burning in embarrassment…it was truly a wonder he had enough respect for those who did what they had to do to survive to not say anything. If Lancelot had even eluded to Merlin being a concubine…such disrespect would probably leave the Prince holding up his head after it had been taken off on the chopping block. How bloody stupid had he been, thinking that innocent Merlin was a bloody CONCUBINE. If Merlin was a consort, then obviously he would have clothing meant for that lifestyle. That would also explain why the Royal tailor had just handed to Merlin so many and different fabrics without cause…Merlin probably had free access to anything he needed. Which was another reason for Lancelot to feel like the dumbest of men on the planet…he should've asked Merlin more, pressed for more answers on how he had gotten the basket of cloth. Instead of just accepting whatever dismissive answer Merlin had fed to him…how was Lancelot going to become a knight if he had missed such obvious signs?

HE SHOULD HAVE KNOWN SOMETHING WAS OFF!

Merlin had literal jewels hidden away in his table…that cup alone would've cost a fortune. Any concubine could've broken the blue gems out of the place settings and sold each one for a small fortune, they would've never had to take another day to work again. Then the cup itself, even without the jewels, would have given him a pretty lot of coin. No concubine, no matter how good of one they might be to the one who utilizes their services, would've been given such a beautiful and expensive gift. But a royal…it was perfectly normal for a royal to have such things lying around their chambers. And then there had been the ring…Lancelot scraped another layer of gunk off the horseshoe much rougher than he had been. He could still see the ring in his mind's eye…the glinting of silver metal, the red dragon so memorizing that it could hypnotize a man with its fierce color. He had never known what the famed Pendragon rings looked like, but he had recognized the insignia as belonging to the Pendragon family. It was so stupid, thinking a prince would really give a ring that bore his crest to a mere concubine. That right there should've told Lancelot the truth, but maybe Lancelot wanted to simply see what he wanted to see. Ignoring the signs and mistaking them as something else entirely…

Merlin was a bloody Royal Consort.

He should wear the jewels and the clothes and walk around the city as if he was somebody. So…why the bloody hell had Merlin been spending entire days with just him? Why had Merlin done so much for him in these last few days, as Lancelot was sure he must've had more important things to do than entertain a peasant boy with big dreams. Lancelot had even been willing to give up that dream of his, when he saw what he had assumed was Arthur harassing Merlin …maybe Merlin hadn't wanted Arthur to use him as a concubine right now and the prince kept pushing him. Or maybe it had simply been some kind of marital spat that Lancelot had no real business involving himself in. Maybe Arthur'd taken offense to his consort wasting his time on getting a man like Lancelot all prepared for a training test that had turned out to be nothing more than some kind of joke. Why else would Lancelot even be at the stables if Arthur wouldn't find Lancelot working in the muck amusing?

Honestly…Lancelot didn't know why he had came back here to begin with.

This whole thing felt as if it was some kind of strange cosmic joke on him…had that been what Merlin saw him as? Nothing more than a joke? Something to be entertained by when he had nothing else going on…Lancelot scraped along his horseshoe even harder than before, sparks almost coming off the gunk with all the sheer force he was putting behind it. God, Lancelot must've sounded like a complete moron to Merlin! Prattling on about his dreams and what he planned on spending his life doing, and all this time, Merlin had probably been laughing behind his back. Or telling Arthur all about how desperate Lancelot was to be one of them, a member of their elite fighting force…it was really no wonder he had ended up at the stables. Arthur wouldn't want somebody like Lancelot on his team, a man who would take the first hand offered to him without knowing who he was even talking too…

God, at least now Lancelot knew why Merlin had been so good at adjusting his armor…the straps had really been pinching him before Merlin had corrected all of them. He had probably done the same for Arthur many times before. Exactly how many signs had Lancelot missed, what would a physician's nephew know about doing armor? Unless he was married to a knight. He scraped against the horseshoe for the millionth time, finally making some kind of progress with his work…Lancelot bowed his head further down to concentrate on it. Maybe if he finally got this gunk off this shoe, then maybe he wouldn't be stuck feeling so …betrayed. Betrayed by Merlin, and by everybody else that had known about it but hadn't bothered to tell him.

'The consort won't think any less of you.'

That was what Merlin had told him when he'd been stressing out about making a good first impression, stressing out about passing Arthur's test, just…being overly stressed out about everything. Those words had been kind, something Lancelot could hold onto, because surely Merlin would have known more about the consort than Lancelot ever could've known. But he had been talking about himself…those words almost felt tainted now. Merlin had known Lancelot had already made a first impression on him, and the only thing Lancelot was stuck on was how he had passed out after the creature attack. How he'd practically forced Merlin to work for him afterwards. How he'd…made a complete fool out of himself.

This wasn't what Lancelot had wanted to do when he met the Consort…

He had wanted to…to meet the man that had done all the things that he'd done in the stories. Meet the man that had challenged a nobleman in front of a court to make sure people knew he was really a controller of snakes. Talk to the man who had saved the entire kingdom by stopping a plague from spreading out of the city's boarders and to the rest of the kingdom. Be in the presence of a man who had drunk poison, challenged a foreign king, rose from the very edges of death, and ended a war before it could start…Lancelot wasn't sure how he was meant to see MERLIN as that man. Don't get him wrong, Merlin had been so…strange, in the best of ways before Lancelot had discovered the truth. But now that he did know the truth…he just wasn't entirely sure what to make out of it.

There had been so many things he had said that he wouldn't have said if he'd known who Merlin was…

Merlin…

Consort Merlin…

Merlin…

Consort Merlin Pendragon…

Just who was he…

"Lancelot, I'm sorry to disturb you while you're working, but do you…do you have a moment to spare so that we can talk?"

X

Merlin Pendragon was sitting hunched over the table in a way that would make his back ache if he continued to sit like that for a few hours more. But he was not all that concerned as he took a large bite out of the apple slices Gaius had apparently left out for him to eat for breakfast. His uncle always was adamant about making sure there was food available to him, though he rarely ate all of it, he at least no longer ate only the bare minimum to keep him going. Chewing the apple mechanically, Merlin absentmindedly reached into the bowl and took another slice, though he didn't yet bite into it, holding it between his fingers as he roved his eyes over the little sketching in the medical journal. It was a step-by-step instruction on how one should tie off the stitches so it wouldn't come loose before they were ready to be taken out. But Merlin was trying to figure out how his fingers were meant to create that little knot, especially after forcing all that string through flesh, his own hands would be slick with blood…the consort bit down on his lip after he swallowed. He was clumsy on the best of days, add in an actual reason for him to be clumsy, and he wasn't altogether confident in him being able to do this. Gaius would probably be able to teach him but there was a strong doubt that he would be able to do it correctly…he didn't want to have Gaius wasting his time if it proved harder in practice…there was this soft knock coming from the open door. Merlin had opened it earlier to allow some air into the room…it helped him feel a bit more normal than sitting in the stale dusty room.

"I'm sorry, but if you are looking for the physician, he's already stepped out to do his morning rounds and hasn't came back yet. Perhaps you can return and try to catch him in a few hours time." Merlin tossed over his shoulder, while not looking up from the complicated sketching. He tilted his head to the side, even squinted his eyes a little, and tried imagining his own clumsy fingers getting a piece of string into that tiny of a knot. His back was to the door, but Merlin did not pay it any mind as he bit the apple in his hand in half, chewing slowly as it crunched beneath his teeth. "Unless this is an emergency and somebody may die, then I can go and find him. I know his route pretty well so I'm sure that I'd be able to guess where he is this time of day."

Merlin didn't hear anything coming from the knocker, and he assumed that the knocker must not have had an emergency and had simply left after realizing it was only Merlin here. Only Merlin here because he was alone…Gaius doing his work and Lancelot vying for the prince's attention and…shit, Merlin thought as his eyes started to go a bit cross. He had been staring at this drawing for such a long time, he was starting to get dizzy from looking at the page. And it didn't help that he now had Lancelot back on his mind…he had been trying to avoid thinking of him for good reason. Now, all he could see in his mind's eye is the warrior…see him spread out on the ground and bleeding profusely from that wound in his side, the one he had sustained from saving Merlin. Only this time, Merlin didn't need to use the neckerchief to stop the bleeding. He was skilled enough to do emergency stitches in the field…only to be stopped by Lancelot, the warrior waking up just long enough to grab onto his wrist and telling him to stop trying to save him. Because Lancelot didn't 'trust Merlin' to save him…not after all the lies that had been said.

"…I know that Gaius isn't here. I saw him heading further into the castle only a few minutes ago. So no, I didn't come here to see him. But I did come here to see you, Merlin." The voice from behind him, much closer than where the door was, came as a surprise, the knocker having never left. The knocker who had been just standing there and watching him bent over his book like some kind of creepy stalker who planned on cutting his skin off and wearing it like some kind of crazed psychopath…but he recognized the voice almost as well as he knew his own, it wasn't surprising. That didn't stop Merlin from being startled, this high pitched yelp escaping him as he threw himself to his feet, his apple slice flying through the air and landing with a sharp smack against the other man's tunic. The other man looked down at the wet splatter against his burnt orange shirt-same as Merlin but the material that made them as different as the night sky and the burning sunlight-with a bemused expression before raising up his head to eye Merlin. "Perhaps I just imagined this Merlin, but did you really just throw an apple at me? An apple slice…is your great defense? Though…is that really all your eating for breakfast? Perhaps I should have the maids bring you a bit extra when they deliver your lunch later on, would you like that?"

Arthur Pendragon had returned, barely twelve hours since the last time they'd had their last confrontation, and Merlin's body reacted without thinking, still so raw after Lancelot's rightful abandonment of him. He nearly jolted back, with his bottom pressed against the table as if he was trying to put some distance between them, though Arthur hadn't moved any closer than he already was. A apple slice was left in a wet half chewed heap on the floor, and Merlin darted his eyes from the slice and back up to Arthur. Arthur had been smiling softly when he entered, a clearly practiced and forced one…did he practice that in the mirror or something? To make himself look more disarming? As if Merlin was stupid enough to fall for such tricks. But now, that smile had faded and he was looking at Merlin's breakfast with a particularly mulish expression, as if it had somehow offended him that Merlin was eating so little. But the prince was also holding a bundle of…something in his hands. It was nearly two feet long, but was covered by a thick purple covering wrapped around it, leaving it impossible for Merlin to tell what it was. But if Arthur had brought it here, then Merlin already knew that he was not going to like it…anxiousness filled his chest and it felt like this nervous static was going down to the tips of his fingers, but…no. Merlin took in a large breath, filling his lungs until they almost felt as if they were going to explode. He might have returned to his rigid scheduling, but that did not mean he had to keep behaving like a coward in front of Arthur. He was better than that. Had to be better than that. Before he fell back into his old habits.

Which was likely to happen, since Arthur apparently knew Gaius was gone and had came after Merlin when he knew he was alone…

"An apple slice is hardly the worse thing I could've hit you with. This book, I do believe, might knock some actual sense into you. But I fear that you are too far gone for it to be of any decent help to you." Merlin said, sounding bolder than he thought he was capable of at the moment, the blond prince really had gone and caught him at the worst of moments, his long fingers spreading out across the page on the opened book of the table, bringing Arthur's attention down to it. He wouldn't be surprised if Arthur started blabbering on about his 'inability' to read, as the prince was so convinced he was that stupid. If Arthur did, once again, try to insinuate Merlin was wasting his time by 'looking at the pictures' because he couldn't possibly be actually reading it, there was a good chance that the book would actually fly across the room at him. He continued, "But as you seem 'so' concerned about my eating habits, I fear I must tell you that the food you've been sending isn't being eaten by me. I don't want it, but Morgana and Gwen seem more than happy to dig in whenever they visit me for lunch."

Merlin had honestly never thought he would bother telling Arthur that his food, his gift to Merlin, was being eaten by somebody else, which was only because the way he grew up made him hesitant to throw away perfectly good food even if it came from an arsehole. To tell Arthur, they would actually have to speak to the other, something they hadn't been doing until quite recently. Merlin could not even say for sure why he was telling Arthur now…perhaps he just wanted to bring Arthur to a complete and utter stop with the whole food thing. If Gaius was pressing the matter, then maybe Merlin would think it had came from a place of care. Coming from Arthur, on the other hand…only made Merlin feel as if Arthur was trying to butt in on his life again. Trying to control Merlin with controlling one of the most basic human needs…his intake of food. But seeing the look along Arthur's face, the shock and utter disdain at knowing he had been feeding the girls instead all this time, was honestly too good for Merlin to forget. It almost made him wish he had done it sooner…maybe Arthur would've gotten the hint and stopped sending him the food.

"You…really…what! Why the hell are you bloody feeding the girls? Do you not know that I've been trying to feed you! You can't just give away what I've been giving you to somebody else!" Arthur exclaimed loudly, throwing out his hands and almost losing his package completely before he scrambled to catch onto it before it could land on the ground. Merlin raised an eyebrow, there's tightness in his stomach muscles that started easing up…it was hard to be scared when the prince was the one acting like a clumsy fool for once. Though Merlin also thought Arthur's reaction-as always-was over the top. It wasn't as it Merlin'd never denied his gifts before, he HAD sent everything else back to the prince with a 'very' eloquent note, if he did say so himself. "Morgana's got her own food! She doesn't need to take anything out of your mouth! You need to eat! And Morgana needs to keep her mitts off of it! She's perfectly capable of ordering her own food from the kitchens if she's hungry!"

Merlin thinned his lips…he didn't have any real interest in involving Arthur in his eating habits, and was almost too scared to question why Arthur was so insanely bothered by it. But he wasn't going to discuss something that was insanely personal with…Arthur, of all people. Gaius monitored his diet well enough, and made sure he got his minimum nutrition for the day, foods that were meant to keep him healthy rather than eating just enough to keep moving. There'd been a real reason as to why Arthur has came here to antagonize him, and he had to guess it was either because Arthur was still pissed about Merlin using his coin for Lancelot's favor. Or it had something to do with bloody Clarissa again…but it didn't matter. Neither topic was one Merlin was going to stand around just to argue about again. Merlin would blow a gasket if Lancelot was brought up right now, and Clarissa…he was just tired of that woman encroaching into his life.

"I suggest you go ahead and tell me what you want, since I doubt that you will just leave if I told you too. Since boundaries are apparently completely foreign concepts to you." Merlin sneered, deadly and dark and more confident than he should be considering he was alone with Arthur, where literally anything could happen. Arthur had already proven he had no qualms about attacking him in a public space, the privacy of Gaius' quarters would surely offer Arthur a better opportunity to continue what he had yet to finish. And trust Merlin…he is still on guard for another physical fight to happen. And the longer Arthur would go on without attacking him, the more worried Merlin got for the explosion that'd come once Arthur finally blew up on him. "I will warn you now though, Arthur Pendragon. Choose your words very carefully. Because if I hear one insulting thing from you, then I am liable to stick my foot up your backside as I kick you out of MY home. The home that you are NOT welcomed in."

Merlin made sure to enunciate himself very clearly, made sure without a single sliver of doubt for the prince, that he was only here because MERLIN allowed it for the moment. That he was only still standing there because MERLIN took his time and waited for somebody to throw the first insult before throwing him out of his chambers. That he was only allowed to speak because MERLIN was bout to prepare himself for taking the thickest tome he could and smashing it upon Arthur's brow if he thought he could come in his home and start giving him a second more of his shit. They might be in Arthur's kingdom, but they were on MERLIN's turf. Merlin was in charge here. And the sooner Arthur got that in his head, the better everything would be. One didn't enter as a guest in another's home and immediately start treating it like they did their own. But then again, Arthur probably expected for the world to bend down for him at a moment's notice, giving up their belonging's for the prince's comfort…take the insults to the way they lived and the way they behaved with all the grace that could have been carried in a smile.

"…You left the training grounds before I could come back to you."

Arthur's voice was decidedly quiet, and Merlin pursed his lips a bit further out in disgust….Arthur really needed to get himself a bloody life. Especially if THIS was the very first thing Arthur had decided to do upon waking up this horrible morning. Surely Camelot's Prince would have better things to do then waste all of their times by coming all the way down here, dragging that thing in his arms with him, JUST to complain about Merlin leaving him. God, did Arthur think he really had so little self respect, that he would stand there and wait as if he was some kind of groupie? Merlin had other things to do! Mainly stalking Lancelot, which was exactly what he had done after leaving the fields, but Arthur didn't need to know that. He was sure the man would jump to the wrong conclusions and wrongfully declare Merlin must be trying to get Lancelot to go out so they could have some kind of date. Completely ignoring Lancelot's interest lying in Gwen, and Merlin's denial of anything happening. But that was Arthur for you, so content to live in his own little world that everybody else was simply being moved around like pieces for the game playing in his mind.

"You were making a fool out of yourself. I don't fancy standing around just to see you play like you're some kind of gallant hero, when you and I both already know that you are anything but. You might feel the need to behave like you are an actual prince when in the company of those that matter, but you don't need to worry about me forgetting exactly who you are." Merlin sneered, the insults being hidden between the words…anybody who knew what they'd been living through would know this was Merlin's way of calling Arthur an abuser without saying the actual words. But a stranger might believe it to be a compliment to be appreciated with the care and tenderness that one was meant to give off to their husband, but that was a care and tenderness that Merlin had never once receive from Arthur Pendragon. The same Arthur Pendragon who wavered on the spot, looking more soft and solemn than he had in a long time, as if he had actually came here hoping for anything other than a fight. But the joke would be on him. Because Arthur hadn't cared about all those times when Merlin had not wanted to fight. Had not cared about all those times Merlin had wanted to only talk to him, only be believed and listened too, and…Arthur released quite a heavy sigh, as if HE was the one with the weight of their problems resting on his shoulders, and went to close the door so they could have a mediocre more of privacy. But Merlin reacted before he thought, "DON'T CLOSE THAT DOOR, ARTHUR!"

Arthur immediately froze, the sound of his name being spoken so violently and desperate, that it left his hand holding the door handle. Merlin watched with a spike of terror going down his body…perhaps Arthur really had only wanted to give them privacy. But not only had Arthur never given Merlin the privacy that he wanted when their problems became a matter for public entertainment, but the consort had a perfectly reasonable and understandable fear that the whole thing might finally reach a new boiling point if Arthur shut that door. The blond prince may behave strangely now, but Merlin knew it was only a matter of time before he returned to grabbing him, and hurting him, and doing only the gods knew what. It was bad enough that Arthur was standing in front of the door, as it potentially blocked Merlin from leaving if the upcoming fight grew too out of control, but at least it would still be opened. At least it gave Merlin a sense of safety, a means to run if he needed to….the opened door made it far easier to breathe as well. With it closed, that would've left Arthur having an advantage over him, and that was not something he was willing to give. Merlin didn't have much, but he would control every aspect of their situation as he could.

Even if it was the bloody door.

"Okay, Merlin. I'm not going to shut the door. I'm going to keep it open while we talk. There's no reason why we can't have it open while we go about our business." Arthur finally said after a considerable pause, slowly pulling away his hand from the door. And Merlin steadfastly ignored the way Arthur took a few steps away from the door, leaving the pathway open for him. Merlin felt a bit like a caged animal, one that Arthur clearly knew not to trifle with by trying to keep him contained. Especially with the way Arthur was talking to him, the way he had said every action as if he was making sure that Merlin knew what he was doing at all times. The kind of thing you'd do if you fear somebody was unhinged or unmanageable, or a ticking time bomb just waiting to go off. "All I wanted to know was…why you would leave. If you were there; then you would have solid proof that I'm not lying to you. That I really did send her away with a strict instruction not to talk to you ever again. That way, she will not have any chance to bother you."

Merlin arched his brow high above his forehead, his gaze wondering from the door and back to Arthur, waiting for the prince to make a move and kick close the door before Merlin had a chance to react properly. But he didn't, and the consort thinned his lips…was this really fucking happening? Even if Arthur did tell Clarissa to actually fuck off-maybe not in those exact words-it felt pretty stupid to come all this way just for some kind of ego trip. Was he expecting to have Merlin start praising him generously, worshipping the ground he walked on and kissing the tip of his shoes to show his gratitude. Merlin would've been grateful IF Arthur had flung her out the door that day so many months ago, before Merlin could have a chance to walk in on them. He would've been grateful, if Arthur had decided to turn Clarissa's favor down during the tourney because he had already worn Merlin's. He would've been bloody GRATEFUL if Arthur had put a stop to that woman accosting him, laughing at him, basically declaring him 'unfit', before declaring how easily it would be to knock Merlin out of the portrait and claim his husband for her own.

"Oh, congratulations Arthur. You have finally done the one thing that I wanted you to do months ago. Finally picked up your feet and got it done when SHE started being an inconvenience to you. Wouldn't want you to have her hanging off your arm still, might make you look…unfaithful in front of your people." He finally said, with a heavy sneer and sarcasm coating every word in this thickly made layer that could not be ignored, the heavy eye roll nearly shaking a bit of his brain loose. If Arthur wanted a pat on his back for the bare minimum that's NOT having your side piece thrown into your husband's face, then he wasn't going to find it here. Merlin wasn't afraid of taking no prisoners. Arthur was going to waste his time, then Merlin would just have to tear him a new one to shake out those delusions. "I'm sure you must be very pleased with yourself, Is a slow handclap what your highness would like for me to do? Or maybe I could go a step further and thank you generously for taking the wants of little old me into consideration! Or! I know! Maybe I can tell you it's all my fault and that I'm just upset about your appalling behavior on the fields today, and you can have all the time in the world you want with Lady Clarissa. You might want to show a bit of care though. I hear her uncle is a real hard-arse though, and we wouldn't want to do anything that might offend him, like turning away his niece and her wandering hands and even more bold behavior."

For so long, Arthur had thrown how 'unfaithful' Merlin's been, ever since he'd refused to listen to reason or admit he might be wrong about the rumors about Merlin. Accusing him of dating the first man he came across that happened to be in Merlin's vicinity, accusing Merlin of doting on other men, or having fun in a way one should only have when their courting. And it felt good, to have a chance to shove Arthur's own unfaithfulness in his face for once. It was like having a pot that called the kettle black, throwing a fit because the pot kept insisting it was green even when the true coloring was shoved in his face. Merlin's almost positive, once Arthur realized what he's done, he'd go crawling straight back to cling onto that woman's skirts. Arthur had been so adamant at one point, to keep the good graces of Clarissa's uncle, he needed to do anything to make her happy. Arthur had made himself out to be some kind of victim, only doing what he had to in order to not upset an important figure in the kingdom. And it was honestly, the most disgusting thing he had ever heard. Merlin would never bed a woman, even if he liked women and he was old enough to start thinking of having kids of his own, just to please somebody else. Only when a man and a woman loved each other very much, should they unite their bodies in order to conceive a child. That was exactly what his mother had told him when she'd taught him a few things after reaching a certain age, before she had realized it was men that fascinated him more, and Arthur had practically spit all over that belief. Disgusting pig. Not content with his attempts to bed Clarissa, and even more unpleased with his attempts to snog Merlin. Who did Arthur think he was just standing there, as if he hadn't stolen Merlin's precious first kiss…a kiss he had stolen like a brute.

"Right…of course it's entirely understandable that you wouldn't want to forgive me for waiting as long as I did to deal with the Clarissa situation. I admit that it was…wrong…of me. But I am positive that she's gotten the message now, so as I said…she won't be a bother anymore." Arthur said, in this carefully contained voice, as if he was taking note of his behavior and how it may be perceived as a threat…Merlin scowled heavily. Arthur sounded like a politician, a member on his fancy court who needed to be aware of every word he said lest it came off as an insult. Why the ever loving fuck did Arthur continue playing mind games like this? Arthur Pendragon had never cared before what he said, or who it was meant to hurt, so why the bloody hell did he care now? "And I've actually came to the realization lately that…her uncle's acceptance is not something that has to be, or should ever be, put before the well being of my consort. If he should prove to be any man worthy of knowing, then even he would understand how…improper his niece was becoming. Truly unacceptable behavior, telling you she was my girlfriend. I do, of course, hope over time that you and I will be able to put this whole thing behind us one of these days. Even if that day is not today."

Merlin's teeth were starting to ache in his mouth, the uncomfortable tension in the air putting him on edge…oh, sure. Arthur said he 'understood' that Merlin's unable to forgive him, but then claimed in the same breath that this would end up behind them one of these days. As if Arthur had any say in how long he was going to decide to stay mad…fuck. Maybe Merlin wasn't even all that mad about that Lady Clarissa. Maybe he was pissed about Lancelot, and simply using the lady as an excuse to let his temper fly. But as long as Arthur continued throwing in his face how much he 'dated, the way he'd brutally punched Lancelot still burned quite brightly in his mind as if he was some kind of jilted lover, then Merlin was going to keep throwing Clarissa in his face. Arthur didn't get to have his slice of cake and then eat it too. He didn't get to nag on Merlin while his own lover had been such a prominent part of their lives till now. Merlin slyly reached his hand behind his back, his hand curling around the edge of his book so tight it was causing his knuckles to turn white around the bend. Arthur's smile was so strained, and Merlin didn't feel like dealing with whatever mask Arthur wore at the moment. Merlin would rather see the monster that lay beneath the skin, or not at all if he had to deal with somebody masquerading as a human being.

"Here's a great idea, why don't you try telling me again how much you want to put this beside us, the next time I walk in on you trying to get her to make you bloody babies!" Merlin exclaimed, voice loud enough to echo slightly up along the length of the tower, and before he could think twice about what he may be tempting, Merlin whipped the book as hard as he could at Arthur's head. It was regretful that Arthur's reflexes were quicker, perhaps he had already got used to Merlin behaving irrationally in his presence, and half expected some sort of outburst from him, because Arthur threw himself to the side. The corner of the book barely centimeters from cutting into his head before it hit the wall with a solid thump against the floor. The last thing Merlin had wanted to do would be to cause the book any damage, he knew how important it was since any books were rare and few in Ealdor, but some thing's needed to be sacrificed when he was faced with Arthur. And when the prince whipped back up to look at him, a small crack forming in his mask, the consort immediately started to lay into his husband, barely stopping to breathe or allowing Arthur a single word in, "I don't know what you bloody expect from me here Arthur! But you didn't bloody well do any of this for me, so cut your fucking crap! You only did what you did for yourself! So what, that I'll stop bitching about her? So that your father will not realize you were still in contact with her? So you can bloody well sleep a night without my fussing and nagging voice ringing in your ears! Bloody ABUSERS do not do anything because they want to make somebody else happy! All they do is manipulate and lie and turn things around and twist the truth until there's nothing left to remain! I don't negotiate or forgive fucking ABUSERS! So all you did was waste your bloody time!"

With each word Merlin spouted, each more brutal and violent than the one said before it, Arthur seemed to grow more pale. Pasty white as he wobbled on his feet, clutching his stupid package as if it was some kind of line life…it was only making Merlin bloody sick. Why the hell did Arthur get to have a lifeline, when Merlin had spent so much of his time wondering from one place to the next as if he was in some kind of daze? Why did Arthur get to stand there, right in his turf, and disrupt the safety area Merlin had concocted. Why did Arthur get to keep disrupting his bloody life, and then act as if the truth HE had done wasn't worth mentioning compared to that dratted noblewoman. Well, Merlin was just done with this. He was pissed with Arthur's presence, pissed that he had any nerve to keep approaching him, pissed that Lancelot was angry at him, and he could feel the headache beneath his temples started to pound. He was a petty man at heart, and wasn't afraid to let his temper control him like Arthur'd been allowing during their first four months of marriage. So when Arthur tried to talk to him, Merlin reacted with all the violence of a librarian scorned.

"I'm sorry that I've hurt-" Arthur started to plead, desperation coloring his voice, but he had to duck when Merlin snatched up another book and threw it right at his head. "Please, Merlin! If I could just-" another book went sailing throughout the air and Arthur's duck was the only thing that stopped him from getting the full smack to his face. "Clarissa doesn't have anything to do with what I did to you! And I know that I will live with this regret for the rest of my life-" but only violent curses from Merlin interrupted him, two more books sailing through the air one after another, this time one of the corners struck Arthur in his bicep…it might've been prudent for him to wear his armor today instead of the far loose fitting shirt. "I know that you don't believe me, but I really am trying to do what I have to for it to be right between us again-" Merlin's face was turning into the redness of a tomato, so red that one might be concerned about his health and his blood pressure, but he simply grabbed up another book. "Merlin, please! I have even tried apologizing to Gaius for the offense I've caused your family! It seems though, as if he is as inflexible in this as you are! But if you'll allow me the one chance to show you that I'm different-"

Merlin had been reeling his arm back as far as it could go, prepared to smack Arthur once and for all with all the force that he could contain within his much smaller body, when he stopped, Arthur's words finally hitting him. Arthur had…he had gone to see his uncle? Arthur had APOLOGIZED to his uncle…what on earth for? It was Merlin that he had hurt, and it was Merlin that he'd offended greatly, and it was Merlin that had to bare the scars and deal with the trauma and struggle to get himself to someplace more healthy than where he'd once been, and yet…Arthur had came and apologized to GAIUS at some point. That uncle of his might've been a major help getting him through the worse of it all, but he didn't have anything to do with the real nitty gritty of the situation they had found themselves in. Arthur seemed to have realized though, that Merlin'd latched onto something he said, and immediately started sprouting off about some nonsense or other Merlin could barely understand from the speed Arthur took to using, as if he wanted to get everything out to say before Merlin could have a chance to stop him. Something about…it was only right for one noble to apologize to another after having made a mistake, that it hadn't been any kind of problem to approach Merlin's male relative for an audience to try and work a few things out between their families, as if Merlin would have just fallen in line if his uncle had taken Arthur's apology. That Merlin should be PROUD because he was taking what he had done to Merlin quite seriously, and would do what it took to fix thing's…Arthur sounded as if he and Merlin were making some kind of breakthrough. As if Merlin was going to start weeping tears of joy and leap into his arms and agree to forgive and forget about everything that's happened in the last four months. Not knowing he was only digging himself further into a hole of his own creation…the consort took in a heavy breath and squeezed his hand so tightly around the binding of the book that it made his hand shake.

"You claim that things will be different between us, when it hasn't even been a full twenty four hours since the last time you allowed your horrid temper to go controlling you. You claim to make things right, when not even a full twelve or so hours ago, you disregarded what I wanted and told Lancelot who I actually was. You stand there, acting so self righteous, as if I'm begging to fall over my own feet for your princely favor, when you couldn't even go five minutes after my arrival at the fields without making your displeasure with me known." The consort said slowly, seriously…words that sparked with a hint of noble power he wasn't aware he could summon when he needed it, the hand poised above his head slowly lowering down to his side with the book hanging limply from his fingertips. He had no qualms about interrupting Arthur, the blond snapping his mouth shut as if Merlin had finally managed to strike him cold with the very heavy book. "And then you come here and tell me you apologized to my uncle earlier? Is that why you are bloody here? Why you are trying so hard to make me think you are a good guy? That's it, isn't it! You didn't know my uncle was Gaius before, I never bothered telling you and you never bothered asking if I have any family in the city. But you know now…we talked about it after I woke up from the poisoning. You were upset with me for 'hiding' that information. All of THIS, though. Your attention and the gifts and the food and everything else that's yet to happen…it's all because of my uncle! Now that I'm related to your noble physician, you want to play nice! Now that you know my uncle is a noble with the same rights as any other, you've realized what a mistake treating me as you have is! Not because you feel guilty! But because you just want to have my uncle's loyalty! You don't bloody want me to feel better! You want HIM!"

Arthur opened and closed his mouth wordlessly, shaking his head in stunned abandonment, but Merlin had already figured out Arthur's game. The consort dropped his eyes down onto the floor, his mind reeling…he had always known Arthur was constantly bothering him because he wanted to 'fix things.' But he had also only assumed it was because he felt 'guilty' after Merlin drunk poison that day. Though Merlin had thought it was less actual guilt and more…Arthur trying to mend things before Merlin had a chance to blow things up and make life difficult for him by going and refusing his consort duties. Or maybe Uther had finally gotten some kind of clue and now Arthur was doing all this because the king commanded it, so desperate to fix their 'image' in front of the people…Arthur admitting Uther as the one who orchestrated their first 'date', had practically confirmed that for him. But this…this was something that was even more deceitful, manipulative, Arthur wanting to be in his good graces because of Gaius. Merlin was used to being disgusted with Arthur's actions and his motives, but this was starting to make his blood pressure spike. He clutched both hands around the book…the anger made his body pulse and his hands shake violently…

"I wasn't even bloody mad about Clarissa! I'm used to her being a nuisance, I was bloody pissed because of how you treated Lancelot and told him who I am without any regard for how I felt on the situation. But this…" Merlin released a horrible crackling laughter, bitterness coating his tongue, watching Arthur as the man seemed to start shrinking right before his eyes. Hunching the length of his shoulders until they reached the top of his ears, face bloodless and not doing anything to defend himself. Which was good. What Arthur was doing is inescapable, and horrid, and Merlin didn't know how he could've ended with a beast like Arthur circling around him like a shark drawn to his prey by a horrid bloodlust…and all because his uncle was important. Merlin was important too! He was a bloody person! And if Arthur had thought for one second that Gaius would be blind enough to not have seen what Arthur was doing long before he had, then he was nothing but a fool. "Tell me, Arthur Pendragon! Would you be here now if you never knew about my uncle? Would you be trying so hard just to get my attention if my uncle wasn't your bloody court physician! Would you be such a…a…god! I would rather you go back to hating me instead of standing there pretending like you actually give a bloody fuck!"

The anger was reaching a boiling point, and upon his last word, Merlin threw his book harder and more violently than he had the others. Only this time, the book collided directly with Arthur's face, and the prince hit the ground, being a pitiful mess sprawled across the ground. The strange packaging he'd been holding landed beside the prince with a heavy thud, the tip of something metal and shining poking out from where some of the fabric was pulling free. But the consort ignored it…Merlin's eyes were bright and livid and pissed, the color an almost glowing blue…the rush of anger was like everything was hitting him all at once out of the blue. The abuse, the four months of pain, what it had done to him…bloody LANCELOT! Everything was coming back, irrational as it might be, Merlin preferred to think of it as completely justified. Arthur deserved this, deserved to know Merlin hadn't let anything go. And that Merlin wasn't willing to allow Arthur to drag Gaius into any of this more than he already was. None of this was Gaius' problem, and Arthur had overstepped a line Merlin hadn't completely realized was there…he wanted to bloody well claw Arthur's eyes out. Merlin refused to be USED. He valued honestly, even if it was something he didn't want to hear, then be part of some plot Arthur had crafted just for Gaius bloody attention.

Down at his feet, Arthur slowly pushed himself back up to his feet, and this is usually the part in which Merlin would cower or try to appease Arthur in some way by agreeing with whatever the fuck he said. But this was Gaius they were talking about…Arthur had gone around his back and tried bypassing Merlin to get what he wanted because Merlin was an impossible obstacle standing right in the prince's way. He was going to REMAIN an impossible obstacle. He stood his ground, planting his feet as if he was a tree that couldn't be budged, as his fists curled tightly at his sides, head tilting defiantly upwards. If Arthur finally had enough of him, if this had been enough for Arthur's false persona to crack completely, then Arthur would have to be the one to move him. The rush in his veins was strong, power sparking somewhere beneath the surface, a sort of electrical charge in the air that even Arthur had to notice. A warning of sorts to the prince…just fucking TRY HIM. Merlin would not leave without drawing the same amount of blood from Arthur that Arthur drew from him when he jumped him.

But Arthur didn't jump him…looking contrite as he bowed his head, shamed.

"Lancelot was…unfortunate. But I stand by what I said earlier…he deserved to know the truth. And know who he was dealing with before he went any further than what he's done." Arthur said, his hand coming up to gingerly touch at the horrid red mark spreading across the bridge of his nose where Merlin had got him. Merlin's jaw went tight, a muscle violently jumping somewhere inside his jawline…such an Arthur way of apologizing. Justifying his actions while taking no real responsibility for them. Not unless he could justify apologizing as just a means to an end. "And you shouldn't be 'used' to anything. But regarding what happened with Gaius, I fear you won't believe me when I say I only went there to speak to Gaius about how I can make amends with you. Gaius though, only worries for your safety. And unfortunately…he doesn't believe your safety should rest in my hands. He's very…vocal about his displeasure with me."

Merlin could feel the cold and smug smile starting to spread across his face…he hardly believed Arthur had went to Gaius just for him, it didn't track with the kind of record he had at all. But just the idea of it…he could just imagine the way that his uncle would've put Arthur in his place. Gaius didn't bother dealing with any such nonsense. Arthur would've ended up thrown out on his arse…the one and only thing Merlin knew for a fact, his uncle was on his side. There would never be a single question about that one solid fact…Gaius was HIS uncle. And would not tolerate Arthur's shit any more than Merlin did. Though it would also be a good explanation for why Arthur kept showing up in his life after all these past weeks…hadn't seen him in almost a month and suddenly he was now showing up everywhere. Arthur must be stupid if he thought trying to soften Merlin up-his 'date', his gifts, his 'generous' offer to let Lancelot try out-would soften up his uncle in any way. Gaius might actually have more of a grudge than he held. One shouldn't trifle with family, after all. Merlin would feel the same if he saw somebody treating Gaius unfairly.

"But I can see that I have obviously showed up somewhere I wasn't wanted so I will respect that, and I won't be long. I simply wanted to show you something that I felt you should know. Something that has nothing to do with Clarissa and Gaius, and…very little to do with Lancelot." Arthur said quietly, something that was so pitiful about his expression, it would've charmed any naive fool to think he was truly shamed by his actions. But Merlin was no naive fool, and had not an ounce of patience for Arthur, and the wedge standing between his husband and his uncle wasn't going to mend with Merlin's interference. Arthur had lost on that one, and the consort eyed said prince as he bent down to pick up the metal thing covered in cloth he'd been holding onto this whole time. "This-" he said as he walked up to the table beside Merlin, who still refused to budge so Arthur had to awkwardly inch around him-to lay them out. "Are the swords that belongs to Knight Bryon and Knight Julian. Brought to you, so that you can see for yourself that they really are imprisoned and unable to cause you any more harm. I just thought…you might feel safer knowing that they really aren't going to be around…it's a stupid idea, I know. But…they're here."

Arthur trailed off as he pulled back the purple cloths, revealing the two swords resting inside, looking bright and sharply and gleaming in contrast to the dark cloths Arthur had wrapped them up in. Merlin dropped his eyes down to the two weapons, brows furrowing together…was this some other noble tradition he would have trouble understanding? Bringing the victim of a brutal assault the weapons of his assailants? Like Merlin claiming them as his own now that the two would no longer need them. Like collateral for the damage he's had to suffer from. But looking at them now…Merlin found he didn't know 'what' to feel about them, or why Arthur thought this was a really stupid idea and still brought them to him. In another universe, the blades could have taken off his neck, if his fight with Bryon and Julian in the forest had went that far. His blood could have very well be staining the pristine metal, soaking it in the vivid colors of vibrant red, his corpse left behind to rot in the woods to never be found. He didn't like staring at them now, an unsettled chill breaking through his pulsing anger, to wrap around his spine like a coiling rope wanting to choke him dead. He didn't want them in his sight, he didn't want them in his home, and he most definitely didn't want to stand with Arthur next to them. He could very well be falling for a trick, standing here, since it left Merlin in a very vulnerable position. It would be extremely easy for Arthur to be acting calmer than he really was, but it would be even easier for Arthur to snatch up one of the blades and finish the job before Merlin could react.

"I want you to go."

This wasn't a question, it was a statement, pure and simple. And Merlin didn't dare wait for Arthur to try and throw a fit about being told so abruptly to leave his home. The coldness in Merlin's tone should've been enough to tell the man that Merlin wasn't playing around, as he walked across the length of the room to the door, grabbed the handle, and opened it further than it already was. He figured Arthur would need the extra space if he was going to be moving his fat arse out of it. And he could take his bloody swords with him. Merlin knew for a fact already, if he tried leaving them behind, the only thing Arthur would know is the taste of the steel when Merlin chunks the useless hunks of metal out of the door after him. Maybe a few cuts from the blades hitting him would finally get through Arthur's head that he wasn't wanted around here. That he wasn't wanted around anything to do with Merlin, which included Lancelot and Gaius as well. Merlin doubted he would finally get the message though. He wished it was that scenario that played out, the one he saw in his dreams, but…he didn't much believe in dreaming nowadays.

Dreams were for those who still had high hopes.

"What-but…I mean…I can't really leave quite yet…I know that you want me to go but I…" Arthur stumbled over his words helplessly, fumbling as he lost a bit of the composer he had been holding onto. But Merlin didn't flinch, staring him down his nose, tracing over the red markings left behind on Arthur's face from being hit with the book and being bitter sweet that it wasn't a more permanent marking in a stony silence…the time for yelling and fits and anger was over. Now, Merlin wouldn't-and wasn't-willing to entertain the prince for a second longer. Which is when, of course, the prince took in a steadying breath before speaking again, and telling Merlin something that wasn't so easily ignored or brushed off. "These swords are sorta like insurance. You get to keep them for as long as the punishment to be given later on will last. That could be only a few days, or a lifetime, but that will all be decided on during the trial scheduled for a few days from now. You'll have to, obviously, attend this event. Not only as my consort and the victim but…it will make charging them much easier once the members of the council is told about what happens in your own words. I do ensure you though, I will push for the maximum punishment, which could be anything from execution or getting banished from the kingdoms-"

Arthur trailed off right then and there, obviously noticing Merlin's skin turning an ashy grey color…Merlin was almost positive he was going to be sick right on the stone floor, his hand clenching around the door handle as if his very life is depending on it to keep him standing. There was a cold stabbing of panic that struck him in his gut…no, no, no. Arthur couldn't possibly be serious right now. He couldn't expect for Merlin to just…what? Stand in front of the entire council group, and humiliate himself by speaking of the incident he'd wanted to simply put behind him and forget about. He couldn't expect for Merlin to…put himself on display for some kind of…of…of trial! He couldn't just go and speak of the horrors he had suffered through during that moment. Couldn't bare his soul in front of people who would scoff and try sticking their nose in the air as if they were too good to listen to the real actual problems in the world. Just the thought of going through something like that is enough to make Merlin feel as if his throat was closing up, sealing itself closed and preventing him from breathing properly…

"No."

The word came out suddenly but thunderous, a refusal of the highest order that was designed to stop Arthur dead in his tracks, and stop the prince from going through with such a ridiculous notion as a 'trial.' Did Arthur actually believe any 'trial' would give Merlin justice for them nearly trying to kill him? No. This wasn't happening. No way, no chance, and no how. Merlin felt he had a pretty good idea about how this whole nobility thing worked, and the simple truth of the matter was this…nobility always won. Even with Merlin's newfound nobility, Julian and Bryon still had the upper hand. They had grown up in Camelot, had many connections and noble friends that probably wouldn't hesitate to try and stick their neck out in order to save one of their own. Closing ranks to protect a member of their noble 'club' that Merlin wasn't included in. And Merlin didn't feel as if, the few things he'd managed to accomplish, would be enough to turn the tides of such a trial in his direction. Merlin might not be outright abused by the nobles at the moment but he was sure he was still considered to be simply an outsider. Forced to watch his abusers as they drunk ale and laughed with all their noble friends when the trial inevitably let them loose. Merlin wasn't going to put himself through that kind of torment. It would be like putting his hand to a fire and waiting to see if it burned him, as if he didn't already know that was going to happen.

He had thought finding out Arthur was only trying to impress his uncle was the worse thing to happen this morning…

"What do you mean by…no, Merlin. I would've thought…I would've thought that you would be pleased with this. A chance to look those men in the eye and put an end to them like they tried doing with you. This might be your one and only chance to step forward. Otherwise they might try and spin things in their favor once they've got the courts ears. And I-" Arthur stopped for a second here as he mused over his next words, and the heavy risk it might be to actually say a thing such as that in front of Merlin. But evidently, it became clear that Arthur decided it was worth the risk after all, and swallowed hard as the heat leaping to his face made the red mark on his nose look more prominent. "I couldn't live with myself knowing you didn't have a chance to be included in this process. I would like to take the men out myself, just in case the trial doesn't go as I want it too. But I think…you should have some kind of say in what happens to them at the very least."

It was a very generous answer…Merlin had never felt included in the things he had been a part of in Camelot. Oh, sure, everybody made sure that he's there to fulfill his consort duties. But he had been nothing but a figurehead, just the statue they needed to fill in the spot by Arthur's side. And the few times when his opinion had actually been sought, it was always nothing more than a simple test. Wanting to see what Consort Merlin would do if he was the one making all the decisions around here, instead of actually valuing any kind of input Merlin might be able to give. It was too bad for Arthur though, that Merlin stopped his believing a long time ago. It was nothing more than a trick as far as the young consort was concerned, nothing more than a ploy to make Merlin think Arthur was willing to listen to him from now on. Merlin had been down paths as similar as this one seemed to be, only he wasn't dumb enough to continue down it as if he was a blind man searching for his first glimpse of the sun. Arthur wouldn't be able to convince Merlin he was anything but horrid!

"No!"

Merlin repeated with a violent air about him, offering no more insight that'd tell Arthur why Merlin was being so difficult about this right now. But if Arthur was not prepared to tread carefully with his next words, Merlin's violent streak was liable to grow. Like the storm on a horizon threatening to whip down houses by the dozen, down to the very foundation and leaving hundreds homeless. Merlin had a generous amount of bottles to choose from after all, and he was positive shards of glass after they shattered upon contact with Arthur, would hurt more than a simple book to the face had been. Once again, the power in Merlin tried to flicker, and the consort stamped it down lest he loose control and reveal the very thing he could not. If Merlin was struggling now, he couldn't imagine what the struggle would be like then, with the stress of emotions running high. The faces of Bryon and Julian looking at him so smug, not even clasped with those iron chains because the trial was nothing more than a formality, and the choice had already been made long before it could begin.

"Why not?" Arthur exclaimed, his eyebrow raising high above his forehead as he gestured out with his hand…Merlin was a stubborn sort though, and tilted his chin a bit higher in defiance. Arthur would never be able to understand just why Merlin wasn't willing to go through with another trial. He would not know why Merlin would rather let them go, then be put through something as horrid as this. He had already been through a trial once before, and it hadn't gone in his favor. It was one of the first horrid things that had happened to Merlin after coming to this kingdom, and he was not keen on reliving the experience. The moment had left a scar on Merlin, a scar he hadn't realized was even there till he was faced with the possibility of doing it again. But the Prince seemed as if he was taking his defiance in stride, as if he already knew to expect it, and did nothing more than rub at the confused wrinkles creasing between his brows. "I know that it isn't something you want to do, I definitely didn't want to be faced with this. It's a humiliating situation for everybody, but one that will need to be handled. Those…those MEN tried to hurt you. And they need to be punished to stop it from happening again. It's perfectly simple, and isn't complicated in the least. You just go, tell the council what happened, and you can step out. And I'll even come and tell you what the verdict is afterwards. Unless of course…you'd prefer your uncle to approach you instead. It's completely your choice…I really just wish you'd see reason and help me get these men out of our lives."

Once again, Arthur sounded as if he was the generous sort, putting a choice or two in Merlin's hands as if he was the only one that could make things move forward…come to the trial or not. Speak at the trial or not. Let Gaius tell what's happened or allow Arthur to encompass him once again with the news. But the only thing Merlin cared about was the increased pounding in his head, with the most violent string of words building on his tongue yet. Ready to spew and rip into Arthur the same way a lioness would sink her claws into the stomach of a predator trying to harm the pack. Arthur could say he had choices all that he'd want, but Merlin knew there was only ever one choice…do what I say and you might live to see the next day. Do what I say and I won't throw you against the first surface I see and force you. Do what I say and I won't leave you with this array of bruises you'll have to lie to explain away. Well…nearly dying had done something to Merlin. Gave him the nice and shiny backbone he'd been sorely lacking in the weeks before. Arthur may have trifled with Merlin before. But he had never trifled with THIS Merlin. He swallowed his initial anger, and spoke up on the one thing that stopped him from standing in a trial.

"Valiant."

It was a simple name that came from Merlin's lips and nothing more, a name that most others had already forgotten by now. Oh, sure. Some people might still whisper about the 'man made out of snakes' or 'the man who controlled them easier than any snake charmer', but his actual name wasn't mentioned much at all, if any. Merlin himself didn't really think of the man much during these days, Valiant had only been one enemy out of the handful he had been forced to face since coming to Camelot City. But he had also been an enemy that tried to violate him…that witch that had tricked Merlin into drinking that poison…Cara. She had betrayed his trust, made him question allowing any new people into his life. But Valiant…he had tried to stick his slimy lips against his own. Had stalked him across the kingdom, and even tried breaking inside his rooms one evening. So yes, he had definitely left an impression, and not one Merlin had ever planned to revisit. But it seemed as if Arthur recognized the name easily enough, because the prince stood up a bit straighter as a more serious and solemn expression crossed his face. But Merlin wasn't done with him. As he already knew…Arthur had yet to trifle with THIS Merlin, who tightly crossed his arms over his chest.

"Do remember, Arthur. I stood in front of your court system already, and was turned into a laughing stock not five minutes in. You might actually remember the event in question yourself, considering that was probably the first time you told me you'll only ever interact with me when I was needed, and that I should not be hanging around you otherwise." Merlin said, in a particularly biting tone, when he had followed Arthur up to his rooms right after that trial, and found a prince who had been humiliated, the hurt of his father's disappointment strong enough to make him lash out. And it was clear that Arthur remembered this as well, a contrite expression covering his face. And Merlin continued on, without hesitation. Being brutal in the worst of ways, without lifting a single finger, the chance to shove into Arthur's face how much he had failed him even back then too great for him to pass up. "I literally stood in front of your father and spoke about how that horrid man tried to kiss me and tried breaking into my room. I spoke the god honest truth, and I wasn't shy about making sure they knew just how awful an experience it was to live through that. And do you want to know what happened? Or do you remember me telling you later on…how your father not only dismissed my claims, putting YOU at risk because he refused to take more than a second before deciding Valiant could not possibly be that kind of man. Nor the kind of man who would use magic just to win a tournament. I am sure you must remember me telling you later on how I was forced to apologize to that man after you left. How I had to bite my tongue and tell him 'I'm sorry'. My getting 'justice' was nothing more than a joke. Now tell me, Arthur do you think I wish to live through something like that again?"

It was greatly satisfying to Merlin, being the one who was finally putting Arthur in his place, the prince's face had actually turned an ashen color that could've matched with Merlin's. It looked as if Arthur was 'finally' starting to understand the reservations Merlin had against doing this. And Merlin…he didn't think that his husband was a good enough actor to pull off how horrified he was looking at Merlin now. Arthur could try and trick and lie and deceive Merlin to get him doing things his way, but Merlin had always discovered the truth. This was now Arthur's truth…his true face, the princely mask of soft spoken words and slow movements meant for Merlin's comfort falling away to reveal that horror Arthur had hid beneath it. Anybody else, Merlin might've felt concerned enough to try questioning what was wrong. But for Arthur…Merlin rather quite liked the idea of Arthur seeing his point. Seeing Arthur small and shaken and destroyed from what Merlin said. Because ARTHUR hadn't protected Merlin from HIS family or HIS laws or HIS country's rule. Merlin had no plans on helping drag Arthur out of the dark. Merlin had always been the one to flounder and flail…now it would be Arthur's turn. And Merlin got a front row seat to it.

"I…I…there is nothing in the world that I can say to impress on you how sorry I am that you went through that. I DO remember what happened back then, and I remember you coming to me afterwards. You NEVER should have apologized to Valiant, and I never should've left you there to deal with my father and all of the members of the court on your own. I…regret walking out, and I know that it should've gone a different way." Arthur said, his voice shaking, hunched along the table and clenching at the edges of it with his hands, something sturdy to keep him standing. Merlin crossed his arms even tighter over his chest than he had them before…Arthur's 'regret' almost felt like a double edged sword. Sure, the prince could admit that something horrid had happened to Merlin, but the prince couldn't have known what it actually felt like. He hadn't just lived all of this, he had been alone while he had been doing it. When Arthur should be the one supporting him…Merlin would've NEVER left if their positions had ended up in reverse. "But please, Merlin. I can assure you…from the moment the trial begins until it ends…I won't leave your side. And you won't have to apologize to Bryon or Julian because you did nothing wrong. And I am sure that the court will see it as well. I think I understand now why you're hesitant, but…please let me make this right for you, Merlin. Just one chance to show you…we can put those men away."

Such a pretty little speech, something meant to make Merlin trust that the man knew what he was doing. That he could face the demons that Merlin couldn't, and slay them one at a time so Merlin could live in peace. Without fear that he would see those men everytime he turned a corner, without being scared that they might return and try to kill him again. Something that would've had Merlin in the early days of their marriage, nodding his head in agreement, figuring the prince knew better about the way this all works. But how could Merlin trust any of this to be more than pretty words? How could he trust that Arthur-even with his face solemn, no hint of joking or making light of what Merlin had done lived through in his eyes-wouldn't abandon him once he was confronted with Uther Pendragon? It was so very easy to say such things, but actually going through with it was another matter entirely…a frighteningly cold and wicked smile was formed on Merlin's lips.

"Perhaps, Arthur, I should explain a few things to you. I know that you have the emotional range of a teaspoon, so maybe I should explain it to you in a manner you'll understand…the political reasons for why this would be a bad idea…"