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!

122. Chapter 123

Merlin didn't say anything for the longest time, and neither did his uncle. The silence heavy and thick in the air but went unmentioned, as Merlin watched his uncle pushing his many supplies off to the side so they wouldn't be in the way while Gaius was working on him. As Gaius was doing this, Merlin's arm outstretched across the table between them, the young boy was using the fingers on his good hand to trace his way slowly along all of the grooves and curves and dips situated in the wood. Perhaps it was a silly thing, for Merlin to waste his time trying to memorize something like how the wood of Gaius' tables felt beneath his fingertips but hey, Merlin was the one that would probably not be returning if everything went according to plan. If Merlin wanted to remember what the table felt like, remember the stench of all these stale old books that coated the air…remember what kinds of different expressions his uncle made as he pulled Merlin's arm closer to him-making Merlin hiss at the light jab of pain ricocheted up his arm-then that was his every right. It wasn't as if there were many rights Merlin had gotten to keep in his time in the city, so, if this was the one thing he wanted to keep close to his chest as he marched out to meet Arthur, then…it would be this that Merlin wanted to keep.

"Now, there is an ointment I have that will numb your face to make your bruises stop aching. I suspect that it's hurting far more then from how it looks, am I correct?" Gaius drawled out for him, and Merlin tried to memorize the sound of his voice, tried to remember how Gaius' glasses were dangling off the edge of his nose as he used this wet washcloth and wiped around Merlin's wrist, getting rid of the dirt to prevent any infections from settling into the wound, wiping away the numbing cream Merlin had smattered it with that had turned flaky against his skin. He was trying so hard to burn Gaius in his retina's, that he almost forgot to nod 'yes, his swollen up face was still sore and aching', and only remembered when Gaius glanced up from his work. Merlin watched as the lips of his uncle's thinned with his answer, and Merlin could have felt this almost unreasonable amount of warmth go flooding through him. This was nice, Merlin decided, it was so nice to know that his uncle did not want him to be in pain. And then Gaius glanced back down at his work, and placed the cloth to the side before he picked up the roll of bandages and the two long pieces of wood he was going to fasten into Merlin's split, "Unfortunately, the ointment is very greasy and makes your face shine. It can be sweated off quite easily, and that basically means that it won't help at all. I suggest you use it tonight when you return, but do make sure to wipe it away fully with water and a cloth in the morning. I can leave it for you on your nightstand for when you go to bed tonight."

Gaius seemed to be content with leaving their earlier talk in the past, intent on forging ahead while forgetting that Merlin had quite literally, called himself Arthur's property. But that was probably for the best, Merlin reasoned. Did Merlin really want to spend the last night he had with his uncle arguing to something that was so entirely…pointless. It wasn't as if the other man was going to be able to change his mind about all of this, as Merlin really was worth far less than anything that Arthur might actually care for-if he had room in his heart to care for anything. Merlin was actually worth far less than the spare piece of parchment that ended up shoved in the back of a drawer for the next several years, forgotten about until it was just time to dump the entire drawer out to get rid of a few things that were unneeded. That was simply all he was trying to do, get rid of himself since he was unneeded. And perhaps the physician would understand why he was going to do what it was he was going to do one of these days. But that was also why Merlin couldn't do something as risky as telling him his goodbyes…his uncle might actually go out of his way to try and stop him if he had one inkling that Merlin was about to make what was probably going to be the most dumbest decision the consort had made during all of these last few months. Even if it also felt like the most liberating decision that Merlin had made in these last three months.

But of course, there had to come a time where Gaius tried to break the silence, ruining the peace that had struggled to settle over them. "Merlin…" the elderly physician started but he trailed off, looking as if he wasn't sure how he was going to say what he wanted to next. Merlin could only imagine it was going to be more of the usual stuff: you do matter, and don't listen to Arthur, and you do not owe anybody anything so you should abandon your duty to stand by Arthur's side as consort even if that was the only reason you were forced here in the first place. "I think that there's a few things that should be discussed before you go to the banquet tonight. I have made it no secret that I don't think this is a good idea, but I think there are a few rules that should be mentioned if you are going to insist on going through with this…just a few things that might keep you safe."

Merlin almost wanted to laugh in hysterics as Gaius' hands paused on what they were doing-which was now wrapping the crisp white bandages much tighter and more precise on Merlin's wrist then how he had done it himself, with the two planks of wood already fitted into place to keep his wrist as still as it could get so that the bone wouldn't move out of its rightful place and permanently disfigure him. As if he would live long enough for a disfigurement to cause him any actual problems. Rules…the old physician wanted to discuss rules with him…on how to keep him safe? Surely his uncle wasn't so blind as to think that he wanted to be safe? The one sole reason for Merlin going was because it would be safer if he went for Gaius, so Arthur wouldn't turn his ire onto him if he showed up looking for Merlin. And…there was no point with keeping to these 'rules' since Merlin didn't have any plans to come back here. Just like Gaius planning to leave the cream for his face on his night stand was going to be useless since he wouldn't be returning, so were any rules that were meant to keep him safe. Merlin wasn't going to convince Arthur to finish him off, let his rage take whole new levels, by playing it safe and keeping to ' the rules'.

But as Merlin sat there, listening to the 'rules' that his uncle was trying to peddle him, which was basically different ways of keeping his head down and not attracting any attention to himself, the consort realized that he didn't really want to sit here, on his last night, and listen to things that would not be of any help to him. Maybe it would have helped before he'd came to his ultimate decision, but now…it might as well have been going in one ear and straight out the other one. These 'rules' were not something Merlin wanted to carry with him into the after life, and when Gaius stopped long enough for himself to take a breath, clearly preparing to start another tirade about how eating his food could be used as a good distraction, and a reason not to get attention since it would be considered rude to talk with his mouth open, the young sorcerer took this second to make himself clear, "Don't do this."

And while Merlin absolutely hated how tired his voice was sounding, as if he had aged a good fifty years within the one afternoon, he hated the way Gaius looked even more. With his eyebrows drawn in together, a little frown of concern on his face over why Merlin was stopping him. Maybe this was only Merlin's imagination, but he could have sworn that his uncle was bearing a few more wrinkles on his aged face that he had most definitely not been sporting before Merlin had arrived on his doorstep. See, this was why Merlin wanted to go through with his plans…it was bad enough that he'd been forced to deal with everything. But now he was realizing just how much his own friends and family had been sacrificing to help him. Their endless time spent by his bed, the worry and the concern they shouldn't waste on him, the indignation on his behalf-while nice-weren't worth being wasted on himself …Merlin himself was an abomination. The best thing that he could do was end it, before he dragged everybody else into the pit of despair he was in. Once again he had to ask…how selfish was he…to not have noticed the strain he was putting on those around him. Merlin was always concerned with 'me me me me me', but it was time for such things to stop. Time for Merlin to…do the right thing.

Merlin waited until Gaius had finished tying off the bandage on his wrist, making his wrist mostly immobilized before the consort tried to explain himself in words that wouldn't spark an argument, "I know that you don't want to hear this, Uncle Gaius, and god knows that I don't want to say it, but with all that I have done since I arrived in the city. All the trouble I've caused…the rumors about me might not have been true but I can understand how they were the straw that would break apart the camel's back for Arthur." The consort tugged away his wrist from Gaius, refusing to look back up and meet eyes with the man, knowing he was already going about all of this the wrong way, but the words kept coming as if this was his new kind of vomit…word vomit. But he kept his eyes focused on the white bandages, completely hiding the purple shade his arm had turned from the fracture as the words just kept on coming, "…It was…right…for Arthur to do what he did. It's the least that I deserve. I am only surprised he had not gone this far before…"

Merlin might have accepted what had happened to him, but it didn't stop him from feeling the deep seated shame that'd been building up in these last three months. The shame and self loathing, just waves upon waves of it crashing onto him was enough to break a man completely. It 'had' broken him …it was why Merlin was no longer strong enough to keep on trying to win this little fight between Arthur and himself. The fight that Arthur had been winning all along…Merlin couldn't believe he had ever been stupid enough to think that he had ever had the upper hand against Arthur. Every time Merlin'd fought or argued or attacked, he thought he'd been trying to forge boundaries and a partnership…thought he could have been seen as courageous for standing up against the prince that so many people wouldn't breath one word against.

He'd thought he was different…thought just because he had been married to Arthur, he somehow had this much stronger leg to stand on then any other person. But he had grown and he had lived and Merlin could see now that this hadn't been courageous at all. He had not been smart or bold…he'd only been this cocky teenager, thinking that nothing in the world could touch him, when he should have already known such a thing wasn't true. Better then most. If Merlin knew what he knew now way back then, before so much of this stuff had piled up on top of him …he might have tried a more strategic route. A smarter way of doing things…maybe pretend from the get-go that he was only some docile little thing that would be able to stay out of everybody's way. He would be able to wait until things after the wedding settled down, wait until everybody had lowered their guard, waited till he was unnoticed by anybody…known as the the Invisible Consort, rather then the Unwanted. And then make a break through the woods before anybody saw the danger of magic lingering in his eyes, the spark of a fighter who'd never been meant to be tied in marriage…or caged behind walls…

But Merlin feared that it was too late for him to try anything like that now. Arthur knew him too well, or…he already had a reputation with Arthur. And the prince knew already, that the consort could not be trusted. He had long since lost his one chance at feeling the sweet relief of freedom hitting against his skin as he raced through the trees to put a great deal of distance between him and the kingdom that had thought it'd be enough to tame him. But this kingdom had done far more then just tamed him…they had clipped away his wings, and that crime…was by far the worse thing they could have done to a sorcerer like him.

"What you have done…" Gaius let out a surprisingly rueful chuckle, causing Merlin to stiffen and sink into himself. He was pretty sure he had done the exact opposite of what he had been planning on doing…all Merlin wanted was to enjoy a peaceful night with family. A peaceful five minutes before he was marched out to face the battle he could not just hide in his room from. But it appeared as if Gaius didn't share the same sentiment as himself. "What you have done was save that ungrateful boy's life. Not once, but several times since you've been here. The kingdom would be without an heir to take the throne, Uther would be childless, and the kingdom would have fallen into a civil war as every noble tried vying for Uther to pick their child to take over once he was ready to step down. What you have done, was save the entirety of this kingdom from ruin and chaos, saved the lives of all who lived here when not even the prince could save us from the beast polluting our waters. And then you sit here and have the nerve to say you deserve what he did…Merlin…you are far better than that. Without you, there would have been no city, no kingdom…and then Arthur goes and does something like this! He is shameful! Not the kind of man who needs to be sitting anywhere near a throne as the power rushes into his head…"

Merlin stared at Gaius blankly, his eyes a bit glassy, before he withdrew his arms from the table and put his hands into his lap, trying to make himself appear smaller then his long frame would allow him too. He wished that he could believe what Gaius said, wished with all his might that he could just nod along and agree with every word he said. That the other man was shameful, that Merlin really had done all the things he said he did, but…Merlin would only be deluding himself if he tried. Sure, maybe Merlin had done the things that Gaius had said, but that didn't make him important or even a hero of some kind. It only made him lucky, right place right time kind of scenario. Anybody else could have done it if they'd been there…anybody would have pulled Arthur away before the dagger from that witch could have pierced him, if they'd been standing next to him like Merlin had been. Anybody in the world could have pieced together what Valiant planned to do to Arthur, if they were in the dungeons at the moment the snake shield started hissing…it wasn't as if Valiant'd did a good job of hiding it. And anybody could have figured out what the muck monster was if they had taken two moments to visit the water supply like he and Gaius had done. So no, the city had never been in any type of danger to falling into a civil war, Arthur had probably never been in real danger of dying. It had all just been…luck…and Merlin putting what his 'special skills' could do to good use. But there was no shred of evidence that said somebody else couldn't have done the exact things he had done to save Arthur. He certainly didn't deserve the credit for a damn thing…

"Are you…are you angry with me?" Merlin asked his uncle in a slow tone, clenching his hands between his thighs so they would stop shaking, as the thoughts of his magic started to stay with him. Merlin had fucking magic at his disposal to be used! If he truly wanted to kill himself, he probably didn't even need to try hard to force Arthur's hand. Didn't need to try forcing his temper to rise until Arthur could no longer be in control of himself. All Merlin had to do was…stand in front of him and lift a pot or something without touching it. That'd take care of things. But…all Merlin was able to think about is …he hadn't used his magic. Arthur had literally attacked him and Merlin hadn't used his magic to try defending himself to get the blows to stop. He'd allowed it to happen…was Merlin such a freaking coward over being discovered that he would choose to be abused rather then defend himself? He knew it was a yes, but that didn't stop Merlin from wondering if he'd been wrong about that. If Gaius was upset because he 'did' have the means of defending himself, but had chosen not to use it. But when Gaius blinked at him dumbstruck, he knew he had to clarify what he meant, "Are you mad at me since I didn't use my magic to defend myself?"

There was a moment of silence between them, thicker and far more heavier then it had been at the beginning, and the consort tried to push himself as far as he could underneath the table, as far as his seat would allow him too, at least. He probably shouldn't have asked such a stupid question, since Uncle Gaius spent most of his time lecturing him on how not to use his magic, how somebody like him needed to be sure to keep his head down since he was living in the very capital that was known for their harsh punishments on whoever had magic in their blood. But Merlin couldn't take it back now, he sucked his bottom lip in between his teeth and pressed hard along the torn flesh. And almost immediately was he forcing it back out of his mouth, the sting of his cut being a painful reminder that he needed to stop doing it. Merlin was able to vividly remember Arthur-like a sketch drawn behind his eyes every time he closed them-looking down at his lips with full rage just before he had hit him. Merlin didn't know why that had been something to cause Arthur rage, but he knew that it wasn't something that should be questioned. Perhaps his husband simply thought Merlin wasn't paying enough of the right attention to him, and needed to slap him around to get Merlin back into his rightful place. Whatever the reason for it was, Merlin knew that he needed to stop doing a thing like that now. Before he made the mistake of doing it directly in front of Arthur again…though maybe he should…if it worked once, then it would work again. To push Arthur straight over the edge…

Merlin shook his head viciously, as if he was trying to rid the thoughts from his mind. He already knew what he wanted to do, he didn't need to spend his last free moments with them burning across his mind. The lip sucking thing was definitely a thought for later, but not one that needed to be had at this moment. And Merlin surged back to attention when his aged uncle was suddenly there, leaning across the table to be far closer to him, reaching a hand out and placing it directly in front of Merlin. As if he wanted to grab Merlin's hand, but he was unable to as Merlin was keeping them safe and warm in the one place nobody would dare to go-directly between his thighs-and Merlin stared down at the hand as if it might just be a viper coming to claim him. Coming to take Merlin home as it sunk its fangs into Merlin and injected a pulse of its hot poisonous venom directly into Merlin's system. He was just so sure his uncle Gaius was going to admit that he was only a disappointment, tell him that these circumstances weren't the same as every other circumstances. Tell him that if there had ever been a time for Merlin to use his magic, it would've been when Arthur was throwing him into the ground. So this was quite a shock when Uncle Gaius said the exact opposite of what he'd been thinking…

"Merlin, I am going to say this once and only once." Gaius spoke in that strict tone that he always used when he was trying to get through to Merlin, making the boy seize up in his chair. But Gaius continued talking as if he didn't notice a thing, "I wish that we lived in a world where magic could be as free and open as it was meant to be. In a world where the young sorcerer's like yourself didn't have to live in fear of all the repercussions they have to suffer if they are caught. In a world where somebody being assaulted-" Merlin was able to feel the way he jolted in his chair at that word…assaulted. It was such an ugly word, the word somebody used when they had been unfairly attacked, the word used for victims who'd survived something that never should have happened in the first place. And that…wasn't him. Merlin might have used the word assaulted before, but it seemed to carry this different ring to it entirely, when it was his uncle using it. And still, the physician continued, "Could use the magic they were gifted with to protect themselves. To defend themselves the same way a knight would draw out his blade if somebody came at him with fists drawn back. But that isn't the life or the world that we live in, so we have to make do with what we have. If not using your magic kept you from being discovered, if you were able to resist using the one instinct you have, the only thing you have at your disposal that comes natural to you…if you were able to stop yourself from seriously hurting Arthur, and those that might've gotten caught in the crossfire, then I am very proud of you indeed."

Merlin stared at him blankly…knowing that he was not happy with this response. Gaius didn't know the whole story about what happened, he didn't know the way that Merlin coward on his knees in front of Arthur, he didn't know how he'd did nothing to defend himself. He might have tried getting free when Arthur first grabbed onto him, but Gaius didn't know that he couldn't even muster up the strength or anger when all he had felt was fear, to even throw a simple punch right in the prince's face. Gaius didn't know any of this, but if the physician did…he would be angry with Merlin. Rightfully so, angry because Merlin had allowed this to happen without a proper fight. Angry because Merlin didn't even think to use his magic to escape. What kind of sorcerer was he, where it didn't occur to him that he had one weapon that not a soul would have expected him to use. Gaius should be spitting curses at him right now, calling him stupid for not thinking to use his magic…not praising him. Gaius acted as if Merlin had been going through some kind of internal struggle while Arthur had been beating him. Acted as if Merlin had done all he could, used every ounce of strength he had inside of his body, to resist the call of magic. But Gaius didn't know the truth of the matter. And if Gaius wasn't going to get angry…then Merlin would.

Without a second to waste, Merlin was throwing himself to his feet, the sudden rage that coursed through him almost deafening as he was hit with a violent mood swing, the awful scraping of the bench across the floor mixing in tune with all the pounding drumbeats in Merlin's eardrums, "But I did not even try!" Merlin screamed as loud as he could, throwing his arm out as if to emphasize his point. But Gaius didn't flinch back, or even looked surprised by Merlin's sudden outburst. In fact, it looked as if he had almost been expecting for him to finally get some feeling, for him to finally start admitting that yes, he was angry. Gaius probably wasn't expecting to have that anger be on himself, but Merlin hardly noticed it at all, as he continued to shout. "I didn't even want to! It never occurred to me to use my magic to strike out against him. I was literally on my knees before him, and I did nothing more then cried like some kind of coward! I did…" Merlin's words went hushed, breathing the final words out as if he thought they were some kind of carnal sin that would have him end up flogged on the cross. "…Absolutely nothing."

Gaius closed his eyes tightly, this horrid expression crossing his face as Merlin painted him a very ugly picture of what he had lived through…imagining his nephew on his knees while a monster raged at him…was enough for Gaius to want to be the one angry. But he was the adult here, and the only thing he needed to do-as hard as it was-was set his own feelings to the side so that he could help Merlin work through all that he was going through. Gaius might be proud that the young boy hadn't used his magic on Arthur-having thought to do so or not was inconsequential-but only because he knew it would weigh in Merlin's mind if he had done something that was so ugly to another. Merlin might have used his magic to help out now and again, but he had never used it to cause a man intentional harm. No, if Gaius wanted something to be done about all of this, then he would need to do it himself. It wasn't going to be his nephew's conscious ruined and there was no reason for Merlin's hands to be tainted when he was more then willing to offer his own. Besides, magic would not ever be meant to harm somebody else. Not if it was used or harnessed correctly. Defense, yes. But deliberate harm…the kind of guilt that would claw at his nephew if he had tried to do something…would have been inconceivable.

"…You did what you had to do to survive. That is not you being cowardice, that is you trying to live." Gaius said in this infuriatingly calm tone that set Merlin's teeth on edge. Here his uncle was, trying to justify why it was okay for Merlin to have forgotten he could use magic, with such a stupid lie to boot! If this was how it felt-this empty hollowness inside his chest-to want to live, then…Merlin had obviously decided on the right choice for himself. Gaius continued speaking, even though Merlin wasn't buying what he was selling, "If Arthur had seen you using magic, it would have meant you would certainly be dead. You would not be standing in front of me right now, talking to me, if you had. And for the record, I am quite grateful that you are standing in front of me now, and not in the cells."

Merlin could feel some of his resolve to stay mad starting to break, but he looked away with a stubborn clench to his jaw. He didn't want to be calmed down, he wanted to be mad for just this once. Wanted to be angry and throw things and just be allowed to scream that it wasn't fair. But Gaius' words, so calm and sincere, were starting to break through to him. He quite liked being able to talk to Gaius too, but this wouldn't change a damn thing about what had to happen. Merlin was still going to die…he was too tired to keep on fighting for his rights any longer. If Arthur didn't want to give them to him…then Merlin needed to be the one to go. He did wish there'd been more time for this though. More time to sit with Gaius and learn from him, and talk to him, and laugh with another who wouldn't think his jokes were something to be yelled at over.

"Sometimes, sometimes you need to decided rather or not a situation is something you need to fight back against, or if it is something you need to lie down and take…if only so you'd be able to fight another day." Gaius said softly, talking about his own personal experiences, though he did not elaborate it to Merlin. Gaius' heart still ached whenever he remembered back to those days when the great purge had first started. It had been torture and bloodshed for so long, Gaius had been forced to watch as people he knew, people he treated, were marched to the pyre's one after the other. But whenever the king had finally turned his sight's on Gaius…he'd been sure he was about to join the ranks of the fallen. But apparently the king had seen something in Gaius' skills, and offered the physician a deal…he could either renounce his use on magic for as long as he should live or join with those who'd already fallen. Gaius wished he could say he spat directly in the eye of the king, but he could not…there was not a day Gaius had lived without regretting how he had saved his own skin. How he had watched as the torture continued on while he lived in safety under the protection of the king, forsaking himself as he burned his magical tools-all except for the book given to Merlin that he managed to keep hidden all these years as a keepsake, he never thought he'd find somebody who would use it as it had been intended-under the watchful eye of the king. As a way of proving his loyalty and devotion to the way life was going to be from now on. And sure, Gaius had done what little he could manage to get away with undetected…a warning sent to the druids just before their camp would get attacked, maybe smuggle a person or three out of the city if the circumstances would leave him undetected. But…Gaius had always felt as if he hadn't done enough to help his kind find justice. And he could never redeem himself for turning his back all those years ago, he was to old now to make any real difference. And now his nephew was here…facing same threats that Gaius had saved himself from…and the most he could do was try to impart some kind of wisdom onto Merlin …the kind of wisdom he wished somebody had given to him all those years ago. But it would have hardly made any kind of difference, he figure. He had been an adult twenty years ago, he knew full well what he had been doing when he had agreed to Uther's terms, "…Sometimes…fighting back could be the one thing that gets you killed. And considering all the resources and the skills that you have, your connection with that piece inside of you that other people will never know…it is probably the bravest thing you could have done, not using it…"

It nearly broke Gaius in two when he saw Merlin slowly nod his head, and clearly thinking over what Gaius had just told him. But it was something that needed to be said, and Gaius would be forever grateful that Merlin hadn't fought back on the prince. But maybe…as much as the man regretted his decisions in the past, maybe it had been his own destiny to follow along with Uther's lead. Because if Gaius had spat in the king's face and hadn't forced all of his magic down so low that it was practically non-existent (the stirring of magic in his blood hadn't been felt for years) then Gaius wouldn't be here now. Being the hand to hold and the voice to guide his nephew through these troubling times, just like his sister Hunith wanted him to do. If Gaius had done what he wanted to all those years ago and ended up on the pyre…there was every chance that his nephew would have already exposed himself without Gaius there to advise him. So, if he could go back in time and face this decision again…Gaius thought he would probably end up making the same choice he had. But not because of him being too scared of all that awaited him on the other side of the flames, but because he knew a day would come where his nephew would need him. And Gaius…he'd forsake himself again and again if it meant he could be here for Merlin. Because he would always prefer to have a living nephew who was forced to portray himself as mortal, then have him join his uncle in the afterlife before his time as a dead sorcerer. But until the day came where things were vastly different for their kind…this advice would be all that Gaius could offer him. Stay safe, and stay hidden. It still didn't feel like enough.

"How…how am I supposed to know what situation demands which response from me?" Merlin asked slowly, this pensive expression crossing his face as he thought hard on what his uncle was telling him. Gaius could try and call him brave but bravery-in which he most definitely was not-had nothing to do with being smart. And while knowing any of this wouldn't be much help on the other side of the veil, it was still a thing Merlin found himself insanely curious to know. And he could not help but wonder if he had known this…would Merlin still be standing here, on the verge of his death. Or would some alternate version of Merlin who followed along with what the physician said have been more confident then himself was…there were just so many different scenarios to work through over this. And Merlin didn't know what signs needed to be in front of him to decide which path to take. And maybe Merlin wouldn't have exhausted himself-in body, spirit, and mind-if he knew which moments were worth fighting against Arthur, and which moments were worth letting go…pick your battles and all that. "What signs will I be able to see that tells me if I should lie in a ditch while people trample over me. And what signs will I see that tells me that I need to fight with all that I have inside of me? How do you even begin to tell which path you are meant to go with that won't leave you dead. Making you nothing more than food for the vultures to pick on while people step over your body?"

Perhaps Merlin was a bit crude by how he had asked the old physician this, but that hardly mattered when the question still stood. How was Merlin supposed to tell the difference to anything? It was wrong for him to use magic to save the life of Gwen's father, but it was okay to use it to spark fire in front of Morgana and Arthur to catch the beast in flames to kill it. It wasn't okay to use magic to unlock the door leading to the room Valiant was staying in, but it was okay for Merlin to use magic to make the shield of snakes come alive while he'd been hidden well enough. It was okay for him to use his magic to make that chandelier drop onto the witch trying to kill Arthur, but it was Merlin himself who needed to push the prince out of the way of the dagger. So, perhaps there was only one way for him to tell when and where it wasn't okay to use his magic in a fight…and that reason was…whenever he could get away with it without being caught. Like the day in the marketplace after he had first arrived and he and the prince had their first real tangle with maces…Merlin used his magic then to stop Arthur from hitting him. Moving things all around the little shop they had ended up in…he had been so stupid and naive back then. Thinking himself confident, only because nobody was close enough to detect the fading of magic leaving his eyes as Arthur struggled in vain to catch up to him.

"Trust me, my nephew. You will know." Gaius spoke in a firm tone, his expression grave and deadly serious when he met Merlin eye to eye. But Merlin didn't understand…how exactly would he know? Maybe it really was, whenever he could get away with it. But Gaius acted as if this was some kind of big secret, something instinctive…and Gaius might not even be talking about his magic at all. He had not once said, use his magic in a fight. He said 'fighting back' could have been the thing that got him killed. Not how he fought back…and there had been just as many times Merlin had used his fists as he had used his magic. Hell, he'd probably used his fists more then he had used his magic, at least when Arthur had been concerned. And still, Gaius continued on, giving Merlin just a bit more elaboration, "When you feel the fire burning right through your soul, when you feel the pulse of magic beating in time with your own heartbeat…when you are certain that it is time…you will know the difference."

Merlin…Merlin looked away again. He wished it would have been that easy for him to know these things, but Merlin was so screwed in the head that he felt as if he was going to be making the wrong decision no matter what he did. Thoughts on his impending death lingered in his mind, like wisps hung on the edge that vanished through his fingers like smoke as he tried to grab onto it. The doubts started to creep in with Gaius words…he knew that he felt certain and sure that this was what he wanted. But there was no fire in his veins, there was no pulse of his magic telling him this was the only right choice for him to make. There was only ever him, and there would only ever be him, and what if Merlin was making such a huge awful mistake by going through with this. Making the mistake to encourage Arthur to give it to him good, to give it to him far worse then a backhand across the face. But there was only Merlin, and Merlin…he couldn't go on like this over the course of the next fifty years. Something had to change and it needed to change 'now'. Merlin figured the doubts in his head would shift at some point, and they wouldn't be a problem anymore. After all…dead men didn't need to think or worry themselves to death over such pointless matters.

"Oh…Merlin." Gaius' much softer tone pulled Merlin out of his solemn self reflection, and saw that his uncle was trying to look at him again. His gaze had returned to the bruising around his eye, his lips pressed into a thin line even while he had his hands working to put all the supplies he had used to help Merlin's arm back into the little basket he used to cart around his supplies when he visited people outside of these chambers. "You shouldn't have to be living like this. There's no reason for you to ask questions like this, not if we lived in a much better world. You shouldn't have to deal with Arthur. I am your bloody uncle! There has to be something that can be done to get you away from him and out of his grip!"

Gaius just knew that this guilt inside of him was going to rip him into two for many years to come. Hell, he probably felt way worse then when he did when he remembered how he'd abandoned most of his kind to the flames. His little nephew might be considered an adult, but all Gaius could see was a child. Small and innocent and nervous and anxious from the very moment he showed up on Gaius' doorstep, scared out of his mind that Gaius was going to reject him before he got to even know him. And sure, Gaius as Merlin's closest male relative could demand some kind of compensation from the royal family for the damage his nephew had suffered, but no amount of money would be enough to pay for the suffering Merlin's endured at the prince's hand. And it wouldn't break their marriage either, which was what Gaius wanted. So that his nephew would never have to be around Arthur again, so his nephew's name would not forever be associated with the prince who was no real prince at all. Not if he was laying his hands on the people who stood below him…and here Gaius was. Sending his nephew straight into the lions den without the proper tools needed to protect himself. Proper tools like …a vial of undetectable poison that could be slipped directly into the prince's cup. This would leave Merlin free, but…he'd still have the burden of the crown to deal with after the deed was done, being next in line for the throne after his husband left this earthly plane. And besides…Gaius had already taken those thoughts and shove them from his mind. His nephew should not live with blood on his hands because of Him, but …if Gaius got the chance…Gaius never thought he would be the one to be seriously considering assassinating the prince of their kingdom. Not the Arthur he had known when he was a boy. But…times had changed since then and Gaius had his family to look after. Gaius hadn't been paying close enough attention to his sister twenty years ago, and it would take all these years before he learned she could have used his help back then. He did not want to make those mistakes with his nephew. And poisoning the ones who had hurt his flesh and blood so viciously…that was the kind of things one did when family was in danger.

And Arthur had became a danger to his family…

"It's fine…I'm fine." Merlin insisted, his voice going soft as all the anger seemed to drain out of his momentarily. He didn't like seeing his uncle in such a state, and if making his uncle feel better was one of the last things Merlin did with his life, then…he couldn't say that he regretted spending what time he had left doing it. But when Gaius only looked at him with a dubious expression, looking as if he was about to open up his mouth and start protesting again with the stupid notions that this wasn't okay. Or it wasn't Merlin's fault. Or anything that Merlin knew was a lie and just his uncle's attempts to give a bit of comfort to him, the consort reacted. Reaching out, he put his hand down on top of his uncle's, the skin so warm and weathered under his touch…Merlin vaguely noted that it was probably the first time he had touched somebody in quite a long time. Merlin wasn't the one that was 'being' touched…not this time. But Merlin raised his eyes from their hands-almost mourning the fact that he would not ever see his hands start to grow wrinkles and turn rougher with age through years of a life well lived-and spoke, "Its just like you said uncle, we do not live in a perfect world. And sometimes people…even if you try to help them…they still get hurt. And I don't think there's anything you can do about that, right? It just happens, so you shouldn't beat yourself over something like this-" Merlin smiled a bit ruthfully as he half waved one hand up to indicate his bruised cheek. "It's not like you were there. And…you didn't see the way Arthur was behaving. It's really doubtful that you could have done anything to get him to stop."

It was truly a sad day for them both, Gaius realized, when it was his nephew-broken and bruised and still beautiful as he stood there-trying to comfort 'him'. Behaving as if the roles they had were somehow reversed, and Gaius was now only a child who needed comfort and Merlin was the adult who'd do whatever it took to offer it. But the truth was, Merlin had done very little to actually comfort him, it only made Gaius more resolved to figure out a permanent way to get Merlin free from Arthur's influence. One that would cut all ties that stood between their families…Gaius was willing to give up all he had worked for-his healing practice-for the better part of his entire life, if it meant he could walk out of their kingdom with Merlin by his side. On route back to Ealdor where Gaius could reunite with his sister. Didn't see the way that Arthur was behaving…that was what Merlin had said. And the aged Physician could only imagine the kind of monster Arthur had turned into to invoke such words from Merlin. The imagined image Merlin had conjured for him earlier-being thrown onto the ground while Arthur raged above him-returned to Gaius' mind like a never ending storm cloud. One that thundered to only hear itself thunder, needless of all the damage it would cause to all of the villages and outposts and cities that lived beneath it…

And when Merlin started to withdraw his hand-hesitant and unsure-away from his uncle's, Gaius reacted. Merlin almost jolted out of his own skin when the aged physician suddenly placed his second hand on top of Merlin's, freezing the boy where he stood with single hand cupped between the hands of his uncle, "I need you to listen to me now, Merlin. This is very important, and I dare not say it again out in the open. It is something that you need to know though." Gaius spoke in an urgent tone, casting a look over his shoulder just to make sure that the door was closed. Only when the old man knew with upmost certainty that it wasn't going to be thrown back open by somebody bursting in, once he was sure that there was nobody out there-his ears straining to hear any creaks or cracks from the other side-pressing their ear up against the door to hear them, did Gaius turn his eyes back onto his baffled nephew. "If you want to leave Arthur, if you want to escape from him and all that he's done and all that he'll do to you in the future, then I need to know. All you have to do is say yes, and I swear to you Merlin…I will help you get out. I will help you escape."

Merlin's eyes went so wide, they felt as if they were about to fall straight out of his head. His eyes shot between each one of Gaius', back and forth back and forth back and forth, until it felt like the greenish blue of Gaius' eyes could have swum in front of him and he would have been less dizzy. For just a second there…Merlin could have sworn that he had to have misheard his uncle. Gaius couldn't have possibly suggested what he had thought he suggested…had he? But the longer the silence stood between them, the more Merlin started to realize…his uncle had not been joking with him. He had just told Merlin that he was going to jail break him…this was, this was…this was…

Treason.

Merlin was essentially a prisoner here in the castle, the ring he wore on his finger the only shackle needed to keep him right where the royal family wanted him. Merlin was just like a war bride, only without the actual war part. That was what they called it-a war bride-whenever another kingdom found a way to conquer somebody else's land. Sometimes, one of the rules or leaders would return home in victory, while also carting with them a pretty woman-usually the Princess or a highborn daughter of an important noble-back to their land in chains to marry them. In exchange for the losing kingdom to be left in peace. There might not have been any war, and he knew he was definitely not anybody's first choice to steal away as a foreign prize from an equally exotic land, but the principle of the matter still felt the same. And for his uncle to say he'd take him away from all of this…take him away from the royal family…not find a way for him to be able to live in the city as he was. But help him get far away from here before the royal family-before Arthur-even had a clue…Merlin felt his breath getting caught in his throat.

People-not even the prized physician of the king himself-could say such things without serious repercussions. Just the mere mention of this…it was no wonder Gaius had been acting so secretive…could have had Gaius thrown straight in the cells and trialed for attempted treason. There was not a soul that would have seen Merlin wanting to go with him, to leave this awful, awful place. They would only see Gaius as a kidnapper, act as if Gaius had threatened to hurt him and attacked him and forced him to come. They would've seen Gaius as the monster who had taken away their consort for some unforgivable reason, ignoring Merlin as he screamed that he had went willingly. And Merlin would be left to roam the kingdom like a ghost, wondering about the city in some kind of daze because he knew his uncle had risked it all for him. And lost it all, left to rot until he was nothing, down in the depths of those cold cells where Merlin couldn't even visit him because of how his body reacted whenever he was down there.

But for one heartbeat of a second, Merlin lowered his eyes down to the table between them, and imagined being able to escape. Racing through the woods on horseback with his uncle beside him, or running through the woods to get away before the alarm bells started to ring, warning the entire city that something had happened. A manhunt would be called for him, but Merlin and Gaius…they would be far out of their city's immediate boarders. Merlin could almost taste the air that freedom would give him, a sweet taste that would coat the back of his throat like honey. His fingers twitched at the mere idea of riding into Ealdor, seeing everybody stopping their work to stare in amazement at the boy-who no longer felt as if he was 'just a boy' any longer-walked into the city as if he had never left. Worn and torn around the edges but still recognizable to the people he had grown up with. And his hollow chest nearly screamed for Merlin to take an offer like this while it was still on the table, if only so he could see Gaius and his mother together, being a real family where all of them were in one place. It was the only thing that Merlin could have ever wanted in that moment, and he just wanted to snatch up that offer and hold onto it as if somebody was going to snatch it away from him at any given moment. And if he did take this offer, then…Merlin's breath caught inside his throat once again…maybe he wouldn't have to give into Arthur. Maybe he wouldn't have to force Arthur's hand. Just maybe…Merlin wouldn't have to…

Die…

But as that thought crossed his mind, Merlin quietly lowered his eyes away from his uncle to stare unseeingly at the bare corner of the table. He was being selfish, Merlin reasoned to himself, to entertain this idea for even just one second. Had it only been himself, perhaps Merlin would have risked it for just a chance at being free. Because what did it matter if he died from Arthur's hand at some point tonight, or died from the blade of some unknown knight who ran him though-and would later claim it was some kind of accident in front of the entire court to try covering it up-in the woods during quite a daring escape attempt. But this involved Gaius now…he had been the one to make the offer in the first place. He was the one that had planted those ideas in Merlin's head, a thing he had not ever seriously considered doing before this moment now. If it ever came out that Gaius-rather he got involved in it directly, or just didn't try to stop Merlin the day he would decide to leave-had told him to go…the results would be the same. Gaius rotting away in a cell as Merlin wondered about the city in a ghost like state, withering away until he was far worse then he was even now…

"No." Merlin was surprised by the steel had just came from his voice, he hadn't sounded that strong or that certain in a long time. And from Gaius' eyes widening, it was clear that he also hadn't expected a reaction like this from Merlin. But the consort had already made his decision…he wasn't going to put that kind of burden on his uncle. Merlin wasn't going to do one thing that could risk the only family he had around for miles and miles and miles. Merlin would rather die with a blade to his throat as he arched his neck, ready and willing for Arthur to give him the killing blow, then drag his uncle to the hell he was going. Gaius didn't deserve any of this when his only crime was opening his door to the wayward nephew he had never known existed in the first place. Hell, maybe it would have been better for Merlin to have just shredded the letter his mother had given him, explaining who he was and asking Gaius to look after him. Gaius probably wouldn't feel this…obligation, to help him if Merlin was just some random kid who had married the prince. "You and I both know that it will not end well if we go through with this. I won't risk it all…I won't risk you, when we have no guarantee that an escape is possible." And when Gaius opened his mouth to protest it, probably to give some light placate about how 'it was going to be okay, and it didn't bother Gaius if he got arrested and trialed for this-as if it was some little favor instead of a true life and death situation they were talking about-Merlin was quick to interrupt him. Giving Gaius a loose smile as he was withdrawing his hand from between his uncle's, as if he was normal and happy and all the other things Merlin was meant to be, "Don't worry too much about this. I swear, everything is going to be okay. Hell, by tomorrow, I bet…I bet that it's all going to look much better than today does."

And Gaius watched, his frown so heavy that it almost looked to contort his entire face into something unrecognizable, as Merlin fiddled with himself. Smoothing down the tunic from any invisible winkles, tugging on the sleeves to make sure it covered his bandages properly-one could ruin the festivities by keeping all the attention on themselves with showing off a visible injury-and tugged on the collar of his shirt to try to get it to cover a bit more of his shoulders then it did. Gaius wanted to let the whole conversation go, as it hadn't went how Gaius wanted it to go, but Merlin's words continued to ring in his ear. This almost…ominous quality to it that made the senses in the back of his head ring. Warning Gaius that he was missing something here, that something wasn't right about what Merlin had just said and yet, the physician could not figure out what the big picture was.

But perhaps Merlin was right…perhaps things would all look better come tomorrow. It wouldn't 'be' better, of course, as there was still Arthur to be dealt with. Gaius wasn't going to forget about him, no matter how eager Merlin seemed to be to get away from the subject. But perhaps once the tempers between them had cooled, once they'd had a night of sleep to think things over…Merlin would be more amenable toward his suggestion. Maybe once the morning's light came, Gaius could sit Merlin down at this very table and have this serious and frank discussion with him. Explain all of his options and how things were looking for him if he choose to stay here by Arthur's side. The whole idea of running was probably scary for his nephew, but…it would be far scarier for him to let his nephew stay here. Now, if killing Arthur was the answer, the physician would not hesitate at the first opportunity he had to do it. Which would probably come soon, as Gaius was a trusted member of the court who often saw to any injuries or illnesses the royal family suffered. It would not be at all difficult for Gaius to slip Arthur a poison while claiming it to be a simple tonic. But…Gaius thought Merlin leaving would be the better option still. Running would keep him far away from his duties as consort. While staying meant he would be the one forced to take the mantle Arthur left behind. At least if Merlin left, it would save him from having a new burden on his shoulders.

But all things have to come to an end at some point. Rather it be a marriage that was never meant to last. A child being forced into a man by time and circumstances. Or living the life of a prince who had overstepped himself. Even this frank talk between nephew and uncle had to come to a stopping point…there was only so long that the banquet tonight could be put off by either of them. And the aged physician forced himself to watch as Merlin left his chambers to meet up with his violent abuser. The boy's face already turning an ashen shade as he slipped out the door, far more silently then he'd ever been before, as if Merlin didn't want to risk being seen before he was ready to be seen…he may as well be walking to his own funeral, rather then a time of celebration and fun. Gaius clenched his fist, feeling as if he was utterly helpless to protect his nephew.

…For now, at least.

X

Prince Arthur Pendragon of Camelot, one of the five great kingdoms on this side of the planet…was nervous. But had there been somebody near him to ask him why…there was no chance that Arthur would have been able to explain his reasonings for himself. He didn't know the reason himself…he just knew that he was anxious. Pacing back and forth at the foot of the grand staircase, unable to keep his body still no matter how much he wanted too. Arthur could not help but wonder rather or not this was what Merlin felt during all hours of the day, and that was why he always seemed to be moving whenever Arthur saw him. If that was true, then the prince had seriously been underestimating Merlin's ability to just stand there for once. Especially since Arthur-with all the extensive training he'd undergone in his youth to keep him from doing such a commoner habit as…pacing…should have been able to do this one thing. To keep bloody still! And yet, Arthur continued to pace alone in front of the stairs, hearing the sounds of people trickling through the closed doors that led into the grand hall. Where their noble guests were trying to mingle and introduce themselves to Camelot, forging new bonds and connections that should hopefully see them right through this treaty for the next upcoming decades.

Arthur should have been in there right now, he should have been making nice with the people that had traveled all this way just to make this possible. Hell, his father had came out here already…twice…to demand to know why the prince was taking so long. Arthur had to make a joke about 'girls taking so long to be ready, and he was just waiting for his consort to get himself prettied up for the festivities' to get Uther to leave him alone. Not even here yet, Arthur thought when he rose his hands to grab harshly at the back of his blond hair in disgust, and already Merlin had found some reason to be an embarrassment by not showing up on time. The sky was dark completely, and surely Merlin knew he was supposed to be there by now. Unless this was all Morgana's influence, the prince thought grudgingly since he hadn't yet seen her arrive, and he started to pace a little bit faster…bloody hell, Arthur knew he should have not ever trusted her with taking that trunk to Merlin. Arthur should have told her no, packed up the entire thing for himself, taken it to see Merlin just like he had originally planned. Sending Morgana was probably the worse thing he could have agreed with, since girls really did take forever when they got dressed, and Arthur could only imagine her and Merlin giggling together while Arthur had been left out here looking like some kind of chump.

Arthur scowled the for millionth time, glancing anxiously up the stairs again and again. Every second seemed to pass by as if it was an hour, but no Merlin was there. And that made Arthur pace a bit faster, and clenching his teeth and hands as if it would make him feel a bit better. Newsflash, it hadn't made him feel better at all…but that was no surprise. Merlin had a strange…way…about him, that often allowed him to go getting underneath Arthur's skin. And the longer he went by without seeing either him-or at least Morgana so that Arthur could demand to know what the hold up was-the more that he wanted to use his new toys on him. Unfortunately for the prince, it would-grudgingly-take a few days for Arthur's new commissions to come into focus. A few days where Arthur'd have to be creative and just use whatever he had on hand in his room to beat Merlin's backside with, using belts as ropes and chains instead of actual rope and chains, to keep him in Arthur's room-where he was meant to be-until he finally got his hands on the proper tools. Arthur supposed he could've just used regular shackles and flogs he could get his hands on from the dungeons, but that seemed so…boring. The boy was a brat but damn it, Arthur wanted something a bit more special than something that had been worn by dozens and dozens of everyday criminals before they'd ended up being wrapped around Merlin's tiny wrists. Merlin was the only one that had driven Arthur to near madness like this. And for the one reason alone, Merlin deserved something more special …something far more lovely then plain chains.

Arthur should have expected it would take some time to get his specific design made-even a prince had to wait when he ordered something custom made, even if his status allowed him to be bumped to the first in line-but…Merlin. The prince nearly whimpered before he caught himself and forced it to stop-stupid boy, always making him do things that he would not otherwise had done. Not even his extensive training had been enough to stop the prince from raging at his consort in front of so many people just earlier that day. And that same training was going to fail him again when Arthur completely lost his temper when he saw Merlin finally deemed himself important enough to bloody well show up! But anyway…what was Arthur doing again…ah, yes. He was cursing the name of his consort as if it was his fault his commissions would be taking a bit of time to make.

The Royal metalworker had taken far more time then Arthur had wanted it to take, and the man had even seemed to be confused and baffled by Arthur's sudden request after he'd busted in there like hell was lapping at his ankles, throwing the door open hard enough to slam against the wall. Though Arthur didn't understand why, it wasn't as if he had wanted anything that was overly complicated. All Arthur wanted was a set of specially made iron shackles-encrusted with shining gold (and damn it, he better not forget about the gold, that was what made these shackles so special in the first place since most were just the plain grey they came in) so it could bring out the color of skin. But the shackles needed to have a way to be interwoven, locked together and unlocked with a hook or something so that Arthur could control everything like the position the…ahem, prisoner…was in. And there had to be four cuffs! One that shackled around each one of the ankles, and each one of the wrists. And there had to be this fifth chain connected to the original! One that would go up the back of the spine and hook into the back of a collar, so every time the prisoner moved their hands or feet, it would tug on the collar and choke them. Not enough to cut off the breathing, but just enough for them to feel the pressure of danger encircling their throat. Which meant he also needed a golden collar to be commissioned as well. Also encased in gold and hardened into metal so that it would be hard and unyielding. With a golden plate on the front of it that said: BRAT.

See! That sounded as if it would be the simplest thing in the world to make, especially for a royal metalworker. Though it did seem as if the royal metalworker was becoming annoyed with him…but that was probably because Arthur had ended up going back and forth on what he wanted to be carved in the golden plate on the collar. Arthur had changed his mind so many times, that the royal metalworker had given up on him completely, set his quill down, and started working on a random metal contraption he had been working on when the prince had first arrived, until Arthur could come to a proper decision. But could anybody really blame Arthur! This would be the first time he had ever had a collar made-and it wasn't as if there was some kind of handbook on how to do a thing that was so odd…putting collars on people for these specific circumstances weren't exactly normal-and he wanted to be sure he had it right. Just the way he wanted it…and be able to watch Merlin's face when he opened up the box and saw what Arthur had given him as a present. Something that was meant for Arthur's pleasure then Merlin's own, but would be entertaining for the both of them surely.

Arthur could have had: BITCH, put on the collar. Because his Merlin really was a little bitch, rolling around in the hay with so many people. But Arthur had ultimately decided that he'd always be reminded by Merlin's infidelity every time the two of them would play the new games Arthur wanted to do with him, which would probably leave Arthur going out of control again. And Arthur needed to be 'in control', so he didn't hurt Merlin anymore then he wanted to. So there wouldn't be any …accidents. Besides, BITCH, sounded too much like Merlin was a dog. And while Arthur had always considered the boy to be his pet, Arthur had hardly wanted to think of Merlin as an actual BITCH. One of the many female dogs locked in the pens out back whose only job was to lay down and be bred over and over and over again by dozens of dogs. So that the puppies could be taken and trained to be made into proper hunting dogs. Arthur couldn't exactly do what he wanted to Merlin, if he was spending all his time imagining Merlin as if he was in that exact same position. Bent over on his front as some stud drilled into him from behind, behaving like some kind of animal who was 'literally' trying to fuck a child into Merlin's non-existent womb.

Needless to say, Arthur had nixed that idea with a churn of disgust the second those thoughts had entered his mind. It wasn't the only idea he had, thank god. Arthur still had quite a few…dozen or three…different ideas he could have used to put on the plate. He could always go with a classic: Property of Prince Arthur Pendragon. But Arthur had considered that it might be too long to put on the golden plate, and all of the letters would have to be small to get the entire thing to fit it right. One would have to get up close and personal to Merlin to be able to read it, but then again…Arthur didn't plan on a soul ever seeing this collar. Merlin's stupid neckerchiefs was finally going to come in handy. Whenever Arthur finally had Merlin trained enough to be in public, the collar would be a good reminder for the boy who he belonged too, and using a neckerchief would be a good way of hiding it from public viewing. But…Arthur hadn't felt entirely happy with it due to the sizing issue, and had moved on to thinking of others he could use.

There had been MORON, or IDIOT, or ARTHUR'S BITCH, but Arthur figured those were all things that Merlin knew he was already. And what was the point of a collar if Merlin knew all of this. Arthur had wanted something that would enforce the idea of what Merlin was, that would remind the consort why he was wearing it everyday of their lives. Something that the boy was, but not something that would make Arthur want to kill him. Arthur didn't need to be reminded or what the other boy was, he would never forget the way Merlin had decided to cheat on him only god knows how many times. And while it killed Arthur not knowing, he also knew that he definitely didn't want to know as well. But anyway, the collar was only for Merlin's reminder, not Arthur's. Though it did also have a added bonus of giving Arthur pleasure, seeing Merlin being treated like the little brat he was. And it was as if this torch had gone off in Arthur's head…BRAT. And that was when the prince had known…he had found the perfect word to use for the plate. Nothing in the world would match how right it felt to Arthur, imagining that one word forever glossing Merlin's neck.

How many times in the last three months they had known each other, had Arthur called Merlin a brat within the safety of his mind. How many times had Merlin displayed this awful or crazy behavior that only a brat would show? How many of their days had been spent with Arthur wondering whether or not Merlin's brattiness would ever decrease? Hell, the prince had known Merlin was this brat practically from the moment he had first laid eyes on the boy, when Merlin had been wild eyed and flushed with anger, determined to prove himself as he threw that first punch, defiant even when Arthur landed a kick to the back of his knees and crumbled him down on the ground. Arthur had even called Merlin a brat right to his face when Merlin had been being particularly annoying. The idiot boy had been so confused, his face scrunching up to make his nose wrinkle. So, Arthur figured the BRAT emblemed on the collar wouldn't be as shocking as the collar itself would be.

Maybe, Arthur thought with a slow curve of his lips-as this deep seated anticipation started to fuel him as he stopped in mid pace-he shouldn't even bother calling his consort by his name any longer. He could just call him 'brat' from now on. A name was a privilege that only important people were meant to acknowledge, just like a last name was only given to people above a certain station in life. And Arthur already had plans to strip Merlin down to his skin as soon as he got the boy to his room come morning, and have him work as a way to earn his privileged clothing back. Perhaps the name would be the same way…something that Merlin would need to be good to earn back. Only when Arthur uttered the name 'Merlin' from his lips, would his little brat know that his own master was happy with the performance he'd been giving to him throughout the next few upcoming weeks. Arthur could train Merlin to respond to 'Brat' as if it had been the name his own mother had gifted him at birth. Teach his consort to come when he was called by that word. Reward Merlin when Brat because his name just as Merlin once was…and maybe even…carve BRAT into the skin around his upper thigh. Just like he wished to carve his own name into the boy's chest…

Arthur flicked his eyes up when he heard the sound of one of the doors down the hall slamming shut. An eager skip to his heartbeat accompanied his roaming eyes, but his heart may as well have just dropped straight to his feet whenever he saw it was not the man he desired to torture. It was only a couple arriving before the festivities, the woman dressed in a lavish green ball gown as she held onto the arm of her noble escort. The two strode across the hall, stopping just long enough to bow to Arthur and this brief mention of how excited they were looking forward towards the treaty, as if it would personally effect them in anyway. But Arthur merely smiled at them politely, doing his due diligence that all the constrains of proper society forced him to have. He thought he did a pretty good job, as the couple continued smiling on their way into the grand hall, the sounds of the party louder in his ears just before it was muffled by the door closing on them. Leaving Arthur once again in the entrance hall all by himself. Luckily none of the actual festivities were going on, and this was only a time of merriment and joy as everybody was celebrating before things got serious. Or Arthur might have been far more pissed then he already was, if the Brat tried missing out on the signing of the treaty.

Arthur brought a hand up to his hair, running it through his bangs roughly…his palms were coated in a layer of sweat he was disgusted by. And Arthur wrinkled his nose as he tried to rub the palm of his hand along the thigh of his pants, just to get the majority of it off. The sad part was…Arthur wasn't even nervous about the banquet itself. He wasn't nervous to stand in front of everybody by his father's side, portraying a perfect prince to leave the citizens of Mercia with this great impression, somebody they would want to continue having a treaty with when Arthur became king. He couldn't even say he was all that nervous about the speech he had rushed his way through creating, having pushed it aside to make sure his custom ordered chained for Merlin was being worked on at this moment. Which was a miracle in itself, as the prince had never been a fan of public speaking, a great shame for a royal since half the gig was talking to the people. But the prince has always found he was better working with his own hands then carrying on the speeches that were supposed to inspire a nation to follow him. No…Arthur was nervous about something far worse then pleasantry speeches and signing a treaty that could tie his kingdom to Mercia for many years to come…

Bloody Merlin Pendragon…making him all anxious and eager and nervous and excited and scared and desperate to carry out his thoughts and make them reality. Arthur could look as confident as he pleased, could snarl insults even better then he could carry a man Merlin's size over his shoulder. Arthur could lead men into battle without hesitation, could portray himself as the perfect prince when the situation called for it to be done, could win tournaments in his father's name and could become exactly what his people needed whenever he was needed. He could do all of that without flinching, could talk to foreign dignitaries without worrying himself to death that a wrongly worded sentence could cause offense. Could stand before his people and give a bloody speech that most likely sucked, but he could do it without any nerves getting the best of him. And yet, this stupid Brat-Arthur would take this time to get used to calling him Brat as if it was his name and not just what he was-could be put in front of him. And it was all Arthur could be…anxious.

That whole…this is really going to happen feeling…had been dawning on him at the worse times since he had left Merlin behind in the dirt. The first item he wanted to try on Merlin was being commissioned, Arthur was on a literal countdown for when dawn would approach…he didn't even care about a stupid banquet his father had worked on for several months to make happen. He wanted the whole thing over so that he wouldn't have to split his time stressing about what he was going to do to Merlin as soon as he got hands on him, and a banquet that he was supposed to be mentally present at. He did not see any of this going well at all, and yes…the prince played absentmindedly with the wedding ring on his finger…twisting it around again and again and again. He had things as set up as they were going to be, Arthur was as mentally prepared as he was ever going to be, and all he needed was the Brat. Fuck…if him and Arthur had been playing the game Arthur wanted to play with him during these last few weeks, then the boy would know not to be late. The Brat would've already known, and maybe even come to expect it, as a lack of any protesting would reach the prince, as he gave him a few harsh smacks against his rear as punishment for making him once again be the one waiting for him.

Arthur scowled, dismayed because he couldn't very well do that before he introduced Merlin to a few other things. Like explaining how Merlin had been living a life of privilege until now, and now that Arthur could see he was wrong to go this long allowing Merlin to be spoiled, things were going to start being 'very' different. If Arthur just started smacking Merlin out of the blue, the boy was liable to freak out on him since he does not yet know what was going to happen. But before he was done, Merlin would be very aware of the punishment he would be given each and every time he was late. Until his lateness problem was no longer an issue. And bloody Arthur twisted his ring around his finger one more time, stopping it only when his eyes got caught on the red of the dragon that was carved into the metal. And Arthur scowled heavily when he saw the freshly cleaned-polished-ring shining up at him in a glint amongst the firelight coming from the torches that went all up and down the walls. His ring had been dingy not that long ago, with a vibrant streak of crimson he'd violently stolen from his consort still managing to stand out.

Merlin's blood…Arthur thought with a tinge of regret across his face as he took the moment to mourn the loss of it. That was the first drops of blood Arthur had ever drawn from his consort, and he should have found a way to immortalize the streak of crimson…perhaps drop some water on the ring to make the dried streak wet again. As if it was fresh and dewy and recently from the source, before blotting it with a paper Arthur could keep in his desk. As a keepsake, to remember the day Arthur had first decided to make Merlin become his own personal bitch. Rather then allowing him to continue on being somebody else's again and again and again…but alas, Arthur hadn't thought of immortalizing the moment until just this instance. And so Arthur had to settle with what he could only see was a piss poor choice at being second best. There was little more Arthur could do, other then raising his ring to his nose, breathing it in as deeply as he could. Arthur might not have the blood itself to stain and tarnish the metal of his ring, but if he closed his eyes and just continued keeping his focus on his breathing…Arthur swore he could still smell the lingering perfume of coppery blood intermingling itself with the scent of metal.

Arthur's eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head, as this heavy groan slid unbecomingly from his lips before he was even aware of it happening. Thank god Arthur was alone in the hallway, he would have never been able to live it down if somebody had walked in. And mistook Arthur's loud, almost delirious groan, as something verging on this more…sexual territory. The groan had definitely held a certain something that would not have been smart to show to the public. Such an indecent act, could have been seen as lewd to those who were older and more traditional and more set in their ways…none of them would have understood that the prince hadn't been sexual about anything in the least. Least of all when it came to his consort. Arthur had simply been…enjoying what he had of his consort, until he got ahold of the real thing. Till he could drawn more blood, fresher and darker and harsher and…Arthur couldn't wait to bring his nose down to smell all of it right from the source. If it was anything like the stench left behind on his ring, well…Arthur would've been damned if he ever admitted that it was the best perfume he'd smelt in all his years. The kind of stench that could knocked down the tallest and strongest mountains. Could have stopped a stream in mid-flow. Could have even caused a docile animal to raise its head in interest. If only to smell the beautiful and light perfume coating his ring…

Arthur was so engrossed with what he was doing, that the sound of a door slamming shut from somewhere behind him made him jolt out of his skin in mid-sniff. He spun around far quicker then his mind could keep up with, throwing his hand with the ring on behind his back, feeling as if he had almost been caught doing something horrendous. Like being out in the open with his hand stuffed straight down the front of his pants, as if he was trying to touch himself despite the risk of being walked in on. Arthur curled his fist tightly behind his back, feeling the press of the ring making indents along the skin of his finger as he held on to it, almost trying to protect it from view. To keep the converted scent from anybody out there who might try to steal it away for themselves…but the prince might be a bit mad in the head if he thought a soul in the world would steal his ring because they wanted to give it a good sniff. But that was Arthur for ya, being twisted all up in the head because of what Merlin's presence had done to him. But luckily…the sound of heels clicking as they collided with the stone floors gave Arthur a hint that it was a woman and therefore, not somebody dangerous to him and his little secret rendezvous with the ring.

But luckily, and Arthur felt the tightness in his shoulders as they eased up when Morgana walked around the corner, her arms going ninety to nothing at her sides as she stormed in the empty hallway as fast as she could in those heels she'd insisted on wearing. It was only Morgana, which was always going to be better then some random noble lady arriving at the banquet. Morgana already knew Arthur was a bit twisted in the head, she would brag around how she had figured all that out within those first five minutes of meeting him when they were still children, when she had first been moved into the castle to live with them. And sure, perhaps Morgana did not know 'just' how off the reservation Arthur had fallen into lately but not even she would bother questioning why Arthur could not seem to keep his hands away from the ring he had scorn and thrown into a drawer where he would not have to look at it, not that long ago. But perhaps Morgana…the man felt his eyes widening when the lady locked eyes straight on him, and started making a bee line towards him. The prince felt as if a jolt had just went through him, a sudden sense of urgency overtaking him as he remembered with a startling clarity…what the fuck was he doing! Morgana had been with Merlin, or at least going to him when he had seen her last…she would know what was going on.

"Morgana! It is about bloody time that you have gotten here! Do you know just how long I have been standing here trying to wait for you to arrive! I've been here for hours, it seems to feel like!" Arthur fully exaggerated, storming forward so that he could meet the lady halfway, not scenting the dangerous aura wafting off of Morgana as acutely as he had been able to smell the sweet scent of Merlin's blood on his ring. Since Morgana was here though, some of the tension that'd been building up the longer he stood there, starting to think that Merlin was dumb enough to try standing him up with the full encouragement of Morgana, of course, always trying to egg something on to get under Arthur's skin, seemed to melt its way out of his skin. Arthur had a bit of his cocky swagger to him again, looking over Morgana's head as she got closer to him to try and see if Merlin was following after her just like a little lost puppy that Arthur always thought of him as. But he could not see any trace or hair of the boy appearing around the corner, and he frowned heavily. "Where on earth are you hiding away my consort? You do realize that I don't have the time for any games you are trying to pull here. If you and the boy are trying to play some kind of joke on me, I can assure you that I do not find it funny in the least. There are dozens of people inside that room waiting right this minute so they can see my grand arrival with my consort on my arm. I can't believe I thought I could trust you to at least get him here on time…is he shoving his heels into the ground so he doesn't have to come? Bloody hell, I knew I shouldn't have trusted another girl to be the one to make sure Merlin was punctual for once in his bloody life…"

Arthur's final words were muttered under his breath a if he were trying to place a curse on an ancient land and needed to speak no louder then a murmur. And yet still, he searched over Morgana's head while ignoring her coming closer, as if he thought he could just will Merlin to appear from the same corner Morgana had just came from. But still…not a trace of the boy could be seen and Arthur felt this anxious knot form in the pit of his stomach. He could not imagine the look that word grace his father's face when he couldn't wait a second longer and had to show up to the banquet on his own. Just…god help him. But Arthur hoped Merlin was really dragging his heels and wasn't doing something stupid, like trying to stay away from here. Or maybe this was just some kind of awful game invented by Morgana and Merlin because they wanted to see him start sweating.

The Brat's only job had 'literally' been to show up here while wearing decent clothing. And he still couldn't manage to do that one even with Morgana's help. And he had some nerve to always be complaining about Arthur, but look at just how much Arthur had managed to accomplish within the crunch of time he'd had. He had managed to get what he wanted to try out on Merlin ordered. He had managed to race his way across the entire castle-working up one hell of a sweat and had needed a quick scrub down, as he didn't have the time for a full on bath-and still managed to work on the finishing touches of his speech while Morris had filtered around him to get him dressed. And look at Arthur now, put together in his outfit for the evening: brown leather boots that encased his legs up to his calf. Brown pants carefully tucked into the leg of each boot. A fitted brown shirt with a cut in the collar that went halfway down his chest, which was able to frame the black leather cord necklace Arthur often wore. And for a splash of color, a bright red jacket with gold embellishments along the shoulders to show off his wealth and power. He'd done all of that, and yet…Merlin had probably sent Morgana here to do his dirty work. Did he think Arthur would not still be as furious with him as he was now, if Morgana was the one that told Arthur that Merlin decided he was too good to walk his arse down here and play his part as consort.

And Arthur opened his mouth, fully prepared to tell his own father's ward that she could just turn around now, and could march her backside back to wherever Merlin was hiding out, and drag him out by the hair on his head if she had too…but the sudden slap across his face, echoing out loudly among the empty hall like a symphony, cut Arthur off before a word could escape him. Arthur whipped his head back around to look at Morgana, a hand raising instinctively to cup his face that was slowly starting to redden. Arthur's jaw had dropped open a little, trying to contemplate what had just happened right now. Had Morgana just…hit him? In all the time they'd known each other, in all the time Arthur and Morgana went around messing with each other just to get a rise out of the other…it had never escalated to physical violence. Arthur'd never dream of raising a hand to a weaker and defenseless woman. And Morgana had thought herself above things like violence….until now, it seemed. And Arthur wasn't quite able to wrap his mind around…what the hell was happening.

"What did you think you were doing?" Morgana demanded, and for the first time since he had first seen her, the prince finally noticed the signs of anger coming off of her. The way her cheeks were flushed with rage, the way her green eyes were wide and dark, looking as if she was trying to stare into his soul. The way her hands were trembling at her sides, as if she truly wasn't able to contain the rage flooding it's way throughout her slim body. The way her voice had been so…so quiet, hushed. As if she thought she couldn't control her own body, and would end up screaming at him like a raging lunatic if she allowed for even one inch of her control to slip up. "I cannot believe you actually…you did…what were you…" and Morgana had to stop and take herself a breath before she continued in the same dangerous voice that she'd used before. "Who the Hell do you think you are…doing that…"

And that sad part about all of this? Arthur honestly couldn't think what he had done to make Morgana so angry with him.