There had been many times over the last five months where Merlin had wished for death to come for him. It had left him harboring a complicated relationship when it came to matters like the one he was being faced with today. He did not want to die any longer, and yet, he still remembered vividly remembered those times when death had felt like his only bid for freedom. His only way to escape from the life that had been forced onto him. He still remembered when clawing up his arms had given him brief moments of relief as the pain grounded him in a way that nothing else had. He still remembered lying in his bed in a heap and being too far gone to look at the thoughts he was having with the horror that it would have invoked in others. He still remembered the calming grasp that held him hostage as he accepted his face when he had seen his reflection inside of a cup filled to the brim with poison that would end all his suffering. Although it was all of those events that had brought him closer and closer to death, it had been those very events, that had reminded him how precious life really was. A lesson it had been, when Merlin had woken up on the cot at his uncles and saw the people that had been surrounding him, fighting to bring him back from the very thing that he had invited onto himself. And so, in Merlin's mind, the young consort had simply assumed that this meant he would be the first out of all his friends that would cross the divide that separated life and death. Although the consort now knew that it wouldn't be by his own hand… he still figured that he would be the first.

Merlin didn't exactly live the safest lifestyle that one could have, which others would probably be confused by considering the many guards that the consort could have at his disposal who could keep him safeguarded. But he has had all those safeguards in place at various moments of his stay in this kingdom, but it's never been enough. Merlin had still found himself somehow caught among the crosshairs of magical creatures and witches wanting to bring him down to his knees and even the victim of a cruel king who only saw him as a bargaining chip to keep his uncle from leaving. And there was always the risk that he was facing by just being a sorcerer living in a day and age where people wanted to see him dead just by existing. If one of those many obstacles didn't kill him—or the random arse people that showed up in his life wanting to be the one to put their hands around his neck and drain the life out of him—then he was sure he would eventually end up caught being who he was and brought to the pyre just so they could burn him good and proper. He was prepared to fight for his life if he needed to, having touch death and decided he wasn't ready to embrace the coldness like he thought he had been, but with so many odds continuing to be stacked against him, it was hard to believe he would live longer than any of his more normal friends would.

But now Morgana was lying on her death bed…

And it didn't feel real.

Even two days later, it didn't compute in his mind.

And now Gaius was telling him it was Morgana that wasn't going to make it?

Morgana had always seemed as if she was so much stronger than Merlin's ever been in his entire life. And as far as Merlin's seen, she has never backed down when she was faced with an obstacle that seemed too big for either of them to face. She was only four years older than Merlin, and yet, she remained a friend to him and always felt as if she was able to hold herself together far more than Merlin feared he could. Merlin was sure that it was less because she was older than him, and more because of the confidence she carried in her soul. She's a woman that was destined to go places, and was worth far more than becoming some random man's trophy wife whenever Uther finally got around to marrying her off. And the idea of her dying, the first of them all, while she was sleeping in her own bed was… unsettling. There was a desperation starting to bite down under his skin that told Merlin all hope was not lost. Gaius might be losing any hope on resolving this, but there was still breath inside of her body. This could only mean that hope was not lost… none of them had given up on him when it was Merlin on his deathbed. When he had poison flooding his body and trying to slow his heart and making his mind lose itself in the abyss until there wasn't anything left inside of him that made him… Merlin. They had stayed beside him even when the had shook hands with the devil himself and their only hope was Arthur doing what he said he would and returning to the castle with that stupid flower that was meant to heal everything.

Merlin was a walking miracle.

There was no reason that Morgana shouldn't become one as well.

"Uncle, there's got to be something that you haven't tried yet, or something to be used that might be more… unconventional than the usual methods that you would use. Your herbs are great and all, but if you cannot create a cure to help her fight off this infection then maybe… maybe I could try something." Said the consort in a slow and considering tone, not entirely sure what he's offering for them to do, but he can see the realization spreading across Gaius' face as the thought strikes them both. But they both fall silent as well, waiting until one of the guards—who nods considerably to Merlin as he passes by—disappeared to someplace around the corner and out of sight. Neither of them could risk them being heard when they were talking about such… forbidden topics. But when it was clear that the guard was gone, Merlin turned his full attention back on the man who had showed him how to heal the wounds that had festered along his heart. "You know that I can do things that other people wouldn't resort to. I'm sure that there is something I can do to… tip the scales back into our favor. All you need to do is tell me what needs to be done and I can… chase away all the traces of infection that's keeping her asleep. I've healed people before when I have used my… special talents. And if there's nothing that you can do for her, I need to do something."

Merlin could very much feel how forbidden this line of conversation was, and it was a line that neither of them should have spoken about crossing. And he did not even have that many healing spells within the magic book that was passed down into his safekeeping by his uncle. It was a general magic tome that's only scraping the surface of a multitude of different topics and spreading out along the different aspects of magic, healing being only one of them. But there's the drawback… the spells only brushed the basics. It had spells that could knit the skin back together when used against a cut that was much faster and far more effective than normal stitches would ever be. And it had spells that could leave the magic sinking into the skin and healing illnesses, but only when he put it in the form of a poultice. But whatever's been ailing Morgana feels as if its much more complicated then what he knows how to do, and healing magic takes far more energy then he's used to expensing on simple spells. But he's sure, with his uncle's guidance and his medical expertise, that they could work out what needs to be done to force the life back into Morgana before it's too late. Once she was already gone, then… there was nothing that they could do. But there's still time, and Merlin was holding onto that fact as fiercely as be could.

"Merlin, i really do hope that you are not suggesting what it is that I think you are suggesting. To bring magic into this situation will likely only make it worse than what is already happening. Do tell me you remember what happened the last time you tried using magic to bend the rules to heal somebody that wasn't meant to be healed. Gwen almost burned because of that decision." Spoke his uncle, and Merlin bunched his shoulders up to his ears as he was filled with all the shame he had been filled with during those times. Remembering that pain came at him all at once… the suffering that Gwen has lived through as she was held prisoner in the dungeons. The father that Merlin had used magic to give a new chance at life to bring down on his knees and begging him to help get the handmaiden out. Morgana… probably the one and only time that Merlin's been aware enough to see her sorrow and desperation as she defied her guardian to help them stop the monster that had actually been responsible for the illness that tried to wipe Camelot off the map. The prince that Merlin had to stab—in the hand with a quill, literally—just to get him to take the consort seriously as he went to him; one of the last few times Merlin had ever gone to him, for help. The sequence of events had only taken part because Merlin had tried to play as if he was a god, and that had been an arrogance Merlin hadn't seen inside of himself until he was faced with others paying for his crimes. "Perhaps your time will come when magic is needed to fight against magic, like when it was needed during the griffin's attack. But this infection was caused by mundane means, and that means we can only use conventional methods to try and heal her. I really won't stop trying until Morgana's gone past the point of not being able to return to us, but until then, perhaps you can try and fetch me a patch of fresh rosemary's. It's an ingredient that I need for the next potion that I will try on her, but I simply do not have enough left in my supply."

There was a sourness that was bursting deep in Merlin's belly, something that told him he could be doing something more then collecting one more thing of herbs that may or may not work on the ailing ward. It just felt as if his uncle's trying to give him busy work… something that will keep his mind focused and his hands not idle. If Merlin was too busy collecting herbs, then he was much too busy to be trying to figure out a new way of doing magic that wouldn't see them facing similar circumstances to what had happened last time. But Merlin had to force the idea of using magic from his mind. It was what he found easy to do, and so it was what he wanted to turn to, but Merlin was not a god. And he had no right to play around in the matters that came with life and death, no matter how much death has touched his young life. But since most potions his uncle usually concocted was more complicated than he could do with his poor skill level, the only thing Merlin could do was collect the ingredients that were needed. At least his memory was good enough that he could tell the difference between rosemary and the other variety of plants that all looked so remarkably similar. So he could do something, even if it was slowly and less certain then it would have been if he was able to use… other means.

He was a few months older than he had been when he had healed Gwen's own father.

He was a few months wiser than when he had worked that poultice into being.

He didn't carry the same arrogance that made him think he knew more about when and when not to use his magic than his protective uncle did.

And he was smart enough to not repeat the same mistakes of the past.

He hoped.

"And perhaps you can grab some yarrow as well. We can never have too much of that."

Merlin nodded absentmindedly as his uncle and him started walking their way to the front steps of the castle, his head so full of thoughts that he could have not been walking with his uncle at all. The idea of Morgana never leaving that bed, and the curiosity sparking in the pit of his stomach whenever he saw the prince beating up practice dummies, and wishing that there was a real magical solution to the new problem that was plaguing them. Merlin couldn't say much about what was going to happen in the next few days when there was so many horrible things going around, but he did know… he wasn't going to give up on Morgana. Not when she's literally the strongest and most independent person amongst their group. She was going to survive this… he just needed to find out a non-magical solution in order to help her.

And he would.

He had to.

X

Arthur Pendragon was not having any easier of a time than his husband was at the moment. In fact, one might argue that Arthur was having a far harder time than his husband was at the moment. Slumped over his desk like he currently was, his back aching from the position he has found himself in after he forced himself to finally leave the training fields after spending most of this morning being stared at by his men who were too scared to approach him during what had to be a particularly rough beating on a training dummy. Arthur was pretty sure he had been going past the point of no return though, which was the one and only reason he had retired to his room in the first place. His soldiers didn't need to see Arthur having… another… breakdown. Though considering this had to be his first public breakdown that didn't have to do with Merlin… he had saw it fit to go someplace where nobody could see him. But his chambers had only made him restless, so tempted that he was to go and check on Morgana so he could see her still breathing for himself. But… Merlin's been in that room every waking hour almost, and honestly… Merlin probably deserved that seat beside Morgana far more than Arthur did. Hell, Arthur knew that Merlin deserved that seat more than him, which was why he hadn't interjected himself.

Maybe if things were different, he could sit in the same room as Merlin and be able to pretend that everything was normal.

But he didn't want Merlin to be tense and watching Arthur's every move and be unable to focus sorely on spending whatever time they had left with… her.

Arthur tossed down the quill he had been scribbling various notes and letters across for the better part of an hour, trying to get this new work that he'd set for himself into order. His back was screaming at him as he pushed back some in his chair, finally stretching out the knots and the kinks that had been slowly trying to kill him. But Morgana's face burning in his mind was screaming at him even more… he squeezed his eyes shut as if trying to erase the image but all it did was make her face burn even brighter. She… Arthur's heart started to twist as a sharp pain of grief smashed into him… she was his friend. And she was in the next room… slowly dying from something unknown that Arthur wasn't able to protect her from. Well… she probably wasn't his friend these days, but it felt like it was still Arthur's job to look after her. Although Morgana would probably kill him for thinking he had to keep her safe, but… it had always been a job that had been his. Sure, there were thousands of guards around that could do a job like that, far better then they ever had when it was Merlin's protection in order, but Arthur had still carried that thought on his shoulders for so many years.

Morgana might have been two years older than him, and while that might not matter at the ages they were now, it had mattered very much when they first met in their earlier years. And she had been such a relentless little spitfire at even that young of an age, constantly trying to mess with Arthur while Uther always admonished him when he tried getting her back… such innocent little pranks that never went as far as the pranks that Merlin had endured. But the prince had started seeing things in a different light, seeing the stranger that was living in his home in a new light, as they had grown. Almost like he'd seen Merlin in a different manner once given the time to see him proper, although it was in two very different ways. Time has a way of changing things like that and Morgana had grown more and more rebellious and outspoken against Uther as they were allowed to see more and more of the… darker aspects that would be hidden beneath the glow of their kingdom. And Arthur had ended up growing more… subservient to his father's whims. But though they had taken different approaches when it came to dealing with the king, he was somebody that they both looked over their shoulders for, and that had bonded them in this strange way. It had stopped feeling, overtime, like a stranger was taking over his home, and more like Arthur was welcoming her place in it, as aggravating as he would sometimes find her teasing jests.

God… there had been a time when the two of them had been so close. A time where she would sneak into his chambers just because she wanted to talk and didn't want to risk them being overheard by somebody that would run straight to the king if she had said something unseemly for a lady, which she would do often in his presence. But those times, when either one of them had wanted to vent without the pressures that came with being judged for saying such things as highborn members of society… they had been special. Those moments had been just for them. Nothing they had said to the other had ever left that room. It was a trust neither of them had even talked about. It was just something that had happened overtime. Hell, Arthur had admitted the fears he harbored about getting married to a male stranger to Morgana! And then Merlin had arrived in the city and that bond the two of them had seemed to… splinter day by day till Arthur was left sitting in his room alone more often than not. And Morgana had started spending more and more time with Merlin, getting to know the aspects that made him Merlin in a way that Arthur never would. And Arthur could even say that this was one thing he wasn't bitter about… the better man had ended up winning Morgana's attentions. He was actually pretty glad that Merlin and Morgana had such a close bond… at least one of them had managed to find a way to get close to Merlin. And she had managed to do it without tricking him or making plans that would doomed to fail or going behind his back instead of telling him straight up what was going on.

And now… Morgana was going to die and Arthur had never even tried to fix the damage that stood between them.

He barely even got to see her, except for the brief times he would sneak inside her chambers and sit by her bed after everybody had left for the night. He was staring at Morgana's sleeping face for hours on end, yes, but in some sick way, Arthur could pretend he was simply sneaking into her chambers so that he had his turn to vent about what his father was making him do this time. Rarely he'd allow himself to vent since his father knew best, but this time… he wasn't able to hold himself back. There was just something about sitting in her room when it was so dark that made it feel… impenetrable. And since she couldn't hear all the things coming out of his mouth in the state he was in… Arthur would fill the silence with all the things she now couldn't judge him on. Arthur's been having a… rough time of things ever since he and Merlin had returned to Camelot, and there was just no denying that. Well, he'd been having a rough time way longer than that, but he had more recent issues that plagued his mind. The last three days had been… something else. He had explained to the unconscious woman that it felt like he had been walking in a distressed daze, and the only thing the prince had to snap him out of it had been… when the guards had informed him of her condition.

But before he had known what was happening with her, Arthur had been torn about what he was supposed to do about his life and his marriage now that he was finally realizing… there was no coming past all of the damage he had done to his consort. And he explained that to her, releasing his guilt on her sleeping form as if it was some kind of fucked up therapy session. How he was ready to finally… acknowledge the fact that it would be best for the both of them if he's able to stay away from Merlin. A difficult feat that would be, but… Merlin nearly died because he was too busy looking at Arthur to realize somebody else was coming for him. And if Arthur taking himself out of the equation was the thing that kept Merlin alive, then… it would be what he did. He had even told her the truth about certain things that he never would have had the guts to say if she had been awake. Nothing nearly as vulgar as the things he had told Leon back at the estate when he had been in distress because of the dreams that liked to haunt him, she was still a lady, after all, but he had spoke of something's. Like how he had wanted to earn Merlin's consent to kiss him… just so he could do a vain thing like proving he could be a damn good kisser ever since the consort had complained about how bad Arthur was at it weeks ago. He had admitted to spending hours in some kind of fever daze in the Royal treasury looking to find something he could give Merlin to win favor with him because he didn't know what else to do with himself, but how he had ultimately given up whenever this had proved to be useless, everything too gaudy or expensive to suit the simple taste that Merlin seemed to favor.

How Leon even thought he might be gay now, because of how much time he's spent thinking about Merlin. Arthur had to laugh when he had tried explaining that one with the… least descriptive terms he could manage about how Leon had came to that conclusion. It wasn't all that funny, considering even joking about such things would make him dead in his father's eyes, but Arthur could appreciate the irony in it. It had been Morgana, after all, that had tried so many times in the beginning to 'try' and make a relationship with Merlin, and now he was here so many months later, wishing he had opened the door for friendship when he had first married the boy. Maybe it wouldn't have been so hard to get Merlin's consent for that stupid proper first kiss if they had that bond between them. Maybe Merlin would have came to him when he first suspected someone was trying to murder him. Maybe Arthur wouldn't have been sitting in the dead of night at Morgana's bedside, spilling his secrets as if she could still help him out of this mess like she had tried to do at the beginning, if he hadn't been so much of the stubborn arsehole that he knew he had been. And by the time he had felt like there was nothing left to tell her… he actually did feel better.

Not by much, but… getting things off his chest had given him a drive to… get things prepared so he could cut off all unnecessary contact with Merlin.

Bittersweet as that was.

Which was why Arthur Pendragon picked up the parchment he had written his notice on, rereading all of the words to make sure that it was airtight and was worded to make sure it was in Merlin's favor and used at his discretion. Arthur was… calm… for the moment. A rare state of being for him, since it was only a matter of time before the prince faltered as he sunk back into his mind after he gets swallowed up by his guilt and his regret for the past. And, as Arthur jotted his full title down at the bottom to make it all official, he knew that it wasn't all that big of a thing to do. He should have had it done weeks ago when they had been facing that griffin threatening to rip their kingdom down to the roots. But it was a small step that would place some distance between them. It was going to take some time before Arthur got… used to no longer trying to get a glimpse of his consort every time that he was near, but… he couldn't pretend that there was this chasm standing between them. Perhaps he had thought he could find a way to build a bridge until they forgot about what Arthur had done to make a chasm in the first place. But… well… Arthur never did find a gift that Merlin was going to like. So this was something that would have to do.

Now… he just needed Merlin's signature so that he could file it in the archives.

X

It was a few hours later that found Merlin Pendragon hanging around the front steps—the grand steps that led into the castle—as the sun shone heavily in the middle of the sky. It had been just enough time for Merlin to have collected the herbs his uncle needed—while being escorted into the woods by Knight Dorian after he had approached the gates asking to be let out, something they'd been doing ever since Merlin had been carted out by Bryon and Julian—and to bring it back to him. But afterwards, Gaius had ushered him out of the chambers for him to have the privacy needed to concentrate on what he was doing… he did tend to ask a lot of questions when Gaius was working so that he could try and understand how to improve himself so that his uncle would trust him to try the more complicated potions again. But with Morgana's delicate state, even he is aware enough to know that his presence would've been a hindrance more than a help. But being that he now had the extra time on his hands, it left Merlin at a loss as for what he should do with himself. He didn't want to just take a seat at the steps and pretend that… pretend that Morgana wasn't dying. It was terrible just thinking those words, but that was the thing… Merlin had this tendency to shut down when the situation got too real and he couldn't do one single thing about it.

Merlin's options were limited though, the consort thought as he grudgingly sat down in the middle of the staircase, pressed up to the grand statue of Arthur's grandfather riding a horse that stood in the center of it, his fingers curled into the others between his knees. He couldn't go back upstairs and sit beside the fallen lady like he had been for the past two days… he couldn't sit there just to tell her sleeping form that her situation was bleak and looking bleaker as hours continued to pass them by with no change or breakthrough happening. And as the king would no doubt be by her bedside again, there was only so much that Merlin could stand to sit there watching the king hold Morgana's hand and play with the edges of her hair… it was too strange from the ruthless man that he's known the king to be. Merlin was sure Morgana would understand. She would probably even encourage him to ignore the king as much as he could. It didn't make the… pull that Merlin had trying to draw him inside and back up the stairs so that he could be with her. But what help could he be… with his basic healing education (very basic), and not being allowed to heal her magically…

What would Morgana do if she could say something?

What would Morgana wish for him to do…?

Probably something productive… something to get his mind off of the tragedy happening somewhere above his head… Morgana wouldn't want him to spend all this time worrying about her.

But how was Merlin supposed to do anything else?

Morgana's been such a close fixture in his life ever since he made it to the city all those months ago, and there's hardly been a say since that he hadn't seen her at least once. He's been around Morgana more than he's been around his own husband! And she's seen him at his worse and at his best, and she's one of the reasons he decided to return to Camelot instead of staying at his estate to begin with. Yes, Merlin had returned because he wanted to do something to make this city a safer place… for him and others like him. But it was his friends and the people that he knew that made living here bearable. And to know that he couldn't help one of them… when they needed him… it made Merlin feel as if he was a user who never gave anything back in return. Morgana had been a big help during his depression era, and look what help Merlin was giving to her when she couldn't even draw the strength to blink her eyes open.

It was… desolate for Merlin to sit here all alone thinking about death and how… final it was.

It was just as desolate as… Merlin's eyes trailed across the courtyard until they fell onto a piece of empty land that stood on the far end, looking out of place if one took in the other smaller buildings here and there. Merlin frowned, feeling as if there were sparks starting to go off in his mind. The piece of land he was staring at happened to be the same piece of land that had once housed one of the smaller buildings, though it was there no longer. It was the same one that's fallen victim to when the griffin attacked the city, which caused it to cave in on a serving girl named Keira. Merlin had pulled her out of the wreckage with help from some of the other knights, and she still lived today because of that. But it was like a sign, reminding Merlin that not all people survived that day. Yes, the wreckage had long been cleaned away during the aftermath of the battle but it was now nothing more than an empty area and that… bothered him. As if it had been somebody's way of erasing the tragedy that had happened here all those weeks ago. And if the people could brush everything that had happened away so soon afterwards, would they try to do the same to Morgana? If Morgana did end up dying because of this infection, then how long would it be before those same people stopped mentioning her name?

Before they started acknowledging the fact that she ever existed.

Before they started acting as if Uther had never had a ward to begin with.

As if they hadn't known her and talked to her and see her stand up in front of the king when others were too scared to do so.

Would any portraits that bore Morgana's face be removed from the castle?

Would her throne chair, taken out and placed next to Uther's when they would hold court, be turned into kindling?

Would her room be sealed off as if she had never lived, slept, and died there?

The longer Merlin sat there thinking about these things, the more agitated he's starting to feel. His knee was starting to bounce up and down as he was trying to get some of his restless energy out, and his thumbs tapping along the sides of his hands started beating a little bit harsher and faster. It was difficult to be staring at that empty lot and not think about the… thirty or so soldiers that had lost their lives or were injured so badly that they couldn't resume their duty as knights during that battle here in the courtyard. And it was even more difficult for Merlin to have this realization sinking into his skin… he didn't know not one of their names. Obviously those who hadn't made it weren't knights that Merlin were familiar with, but he was sure that they must have had families or friends who had known them. People who mourned them after they were gone. People who had to move about a kingdom every day feeling as if their loved ones had been forgotten about. Merlin knew quite well what it was like to be treated like one of the forgotten ones… he had no doubt that his name would've ended up struck from the records had he actually died from his poisoning. And he feared Morgana, even as beloved as she was to the people, would suffer the fate they all would suffer at some point or another.

Everybody was going to die someday, and everybody that person had known in life was going to follow them.

It was the way life worked, one generation following the next and repeating the rules of the universe.

But… that didn't mean they couldn't try to remember those who'd fallen before their time was up.

It just didn't feel right for that spot to sit empty since it didn't look as if there's any plans on rebuilding the building that had once stood there. And maybe this was just Merlin's way of channeling his energy into something so he was doing more than just sitting here on the steps, but… there had to be something they could place there. Maybe some sort of… statue or plaque… something like that slab of stone that was out in the middle of the woods that listed the those who had died during the griffins final attack. Those ten soldiers Arthur had taken to battle with him weren't the only people that had suffered, and if they could get their names immobilized in solid marble, then why couldn't the others. It could be something that Merlin might bring up to Gaius… when he wasn't forced into spending every waking hour dedicated to doing something that would wake up Morgana. It was probably a thought that wasn't going to go anywhere, but the thought was nice.

It could even be Morgana's contribution, since it was only her condition that's made him think of such a thing.

And besides…

Merlin was pretty sure Morgana would appreciate having a statue dedicated to those who had given their lives trying to protect the city from the griffin when it had tried killing them all. He knew that Morgana, once the land was safe for her to do so, had walked through this courtyard many times when they'd been cleaning it up. While Merlin had been studying about… land taxes and what the history of the land he had been given, Morgana had watched as servants were cleaning up the bloodstains decorating the courtyard ground. Had watched as the broken bits of the land had been placed onto the back of a cart and taken off somewhere to be disposed of. She had seen more than one dead body as it was carted away from the courtyard, nothing but a white sheet tucked around it in order to show a brief level of respect. Merlin could only imagine what else the young woman had seen, or how she must have felt knowing that she was in a secure location while others had been slaughtered on their doorstep. Maybe, if Morgana woke up… she wouldn't mind seeing some sort of monument when she looked out her window every morning. It would be a pretty strong reminder to the people about how… short life really was.

Most people seemed to forget that…

How fragile life was.

And how easily it could be snuffed out.

Merlin wished that he had a bit more time thinking about what it would take to even have something like that done… would he need to go in front of the king to suggest it? Would it need to be a plain slab of stone or could it be anything else that could showcase how… terrifying those days had been. Gaius, Merlin's sure, would know all the answers to the millions of questions he had that were racing through his mind right now. But as his luck would have it, Merlin ended up being interrupted in mid-thought when he heard a brief commotion coming from somewhere further down the stairs. And the consort looked to where the noise was coming from, he was able to see an older knight striding across the courtyard. And while this wasn't a strange thing, since knights were constantly roaming around the castle on an endless stream of patrols, what was unusual about the scene was the fact that this knight seemed to be being followed by a man wearing drag looking robes. Merlin couldn't say for certain what the two were doing, but from the exasperated expression on the knight's face, Merlin was sure that he was more then tired of hearing about whatever the man was going on about, though Merlin was sitting too far away to make out any of the actual words. At least until they got somewhat closer, stopping somewhere at the bottom of the steps.

"I understand that this is a very delicate situation, and I am more than aware of how it looks to have a stranger approaching and asking to help. One can never be too careful when it comes to strangers trying to make contact with those of the royal family, but I really must insist on seeing Consort Merlin before it's too late." The strange man, his entire face hidden beneath the deep depth made in the hood he had tucked low. His voice was kind of gravely though, but he also spoke with the careful enunciation that Merlin had only ever heard from those of noble birth… strange considering how raggedy his clothing was. But Merlin had his ears perked at the sounds of his name. And at the urgent way the man was insisting on… on wanting to speak with him? "There is only so long before there is nothing left that can be done, and I would hate to see the Prince being made a window simply because you were stubborn and did not want to get me the audience I need to complete my reason for making the journey here…"

There was a sweep of alarm that seemed to flood through Merlin's body, which made him straighten up where he was sitting… had the man just said… making the prince a widow? But… Merlin's husband was the prince and the only way to have Arthur become a widow was… if Merlin died, leaving the prince to live life without him. Merlin was barely aware of himself when he stood up from where he was sitting, his heart thrumming in his chest… death. He was always being threatened with death! What had Merlin done to this stranger for him to think Merlin was going to be dying soon! And was this some sort of threat, or did he know something and was trying to warn Merlin? Should he leave and escape to his uncle's chambers until this whole thing was figured out, or should he try to confront the man and demand to know what he was talking about. But before Merlin could make a decision, his fight or flight reflexes tearing him in two as he tethered on that step, the knight had already made eye contact. And there was immense relief spreading across the knight's face when he saw him a few steps above them.

"Ah, perhaps this gentlemen right here can explain to you the same thing I've been trying to tell you about how wrong your information is." The guard said in a brisk tone to the stranger, already turning direction so that he could lead the stranger up the steps to where Merlin was. Merlin's legs were numb, but Merlin swallowed hard before squaring his shoulders… the cloaked figure wasn't even looking at Merlin even when the knight started addressing him, which caused the consort to narrow his eyes sharply. Contemplative, as he pressed his fists into tight balls on either side of him. "I hope you will forgive me for this, but this man accosted me a few minutes ago as I came into the courtyard, with an outrageous story that has him speaking to either King Uther or Prince Arthur. But as I'm sure you are aware of the family's situation, I did not want to disturb them over jesters trying to get inside the healing rooms to see for himself what was going on."

The guard finished what he was saying with an exasperated flourish, though the stranger was clearly irritable at being called out as a 'jester.' But the dark haired consort knew exactly what the knight was trying to say. Although it was no secret about Morgana's condition, the situation was being as closely sealed as it could be. And while the city might be aware of Morgana suddenly getting a deadly illness, the details had only been shared amongst those who actually had to know. This knight in front of him probably wasn't one of the few knights that had been informed about the situation, but he still wasn't about to bring a stranger up for an audience when Arthur and Uther could very well be dealing with a far more pressing issue regarding Morgana. Because of how tight lipped people had been about Morgana nearing death, there was bound to be people trying to get close enough to see how Morgana was fairing themselves in order to be the one to spread the news to the rest of the city. This would have been a horrible thing for somebody to do, pretending to offer services that would've eased the burden off the shoulders of the royal family, only to turn out to be a fraud. And so this left Merlin… the only royal that could stand between a man encroaching on Morgana's privacy. Merlin was still the new member among the royal family… the only one that was 'related' to Morgana because of marriage instead of adoption. It stood to reason that people would look to Merlin as the one that handled things such as this, so that Arthur and Uther could spend all their the time they could with Morgana without being disturbed.

"And what does this man think he could do by being allowed to walk into Lady Morgana's Healing Room?"

Merlin's voice had dropped several octaves lower… colder in tone as he tried to get a better look at the man hidden beneath the hood. But with it tugged as lowly as it was, the consort was barely able to catch even a glimpse of a single identifying feature. The man was at least looking at him now that Merlin is the one taking over the conversation, but it was clear that he was lacking focus on Merlin when compared to the knight. As if Merlin was nothing more than some distraction and his time was being wasted by stopping here. That only caused the consort to go stiff in the shoulders, while trying to make himself appear as if he was larger than he looked. Merlin didn't care about any of the superficial reasons this man had for coming here, all he knew was that this stranger was not going to get ANYWHERE near Morgana. Merlin didn't know who he is and he didn't know what he was capable of. For all Merlin knew, this man was less of a jester and more of an assassin who was simply taking advantage of what's happening to get close. And while the man didn't look like an obvious threat at first glance, from what Merlin could see as he glanced up and down the man's mostly covered form, he wasn't counting anything out. Just look at Merlin and the weapon that he had brimming under his skin. And look at Jacqui, who had portrayed himself as a mild mannered steward obsessed with the so extremely important history of the estate, just before he had tried strangling the life out of Merlin. And if this stranger meant Morgana harm, well… he wasn't going to know what hit him. What kind of sick human being tried spying on somebody when they were in pain and possibly grasping for their last breath?

"Wait… what do you mean by Lady Morgana's healing room?" Suddenly spoke the man, interrupting Merlin from where he was two seconds away from telling the knight to escort the stranger off the grounds and to make sure he was not able to get back in. And unlike before, when he had been insisted, this time he sounded as if he was genuinely surprised. Though Merlin didn't know what the stranger had to be surprised about, the consort thought as he quirked up one of his eyebrows in disdain, struggling to rein down the protective urges he had coursing through him as he angled himself so that he was standing in between the stranger and the rest of the castle. But the stranger seemed to be quickly collecting himself in front of them, the hooded figure clearing his throat before speaking again in a softer and gentler tone then before, "I must ask for you to forgive me, but there seems to be quite a misunderstanding taking place right now. I have traveled far and wide across the land in order to reach the city so I could offer my assistance to the… sudden tragedy that's befallen the city. But I was under the impression that it was Consort Merlin that's taken ill and is now bedridden from what plagues him."

Merlin's brows furrowed into the center of his forehead, confused by that bit of information… him? Merlin knew that thousands of people around the entire kingdom spoke about him every time he involved himself in something, but it had to be the first time that Merlin's name had gotten mixed up with another's. Was that really what people were saying? That it was Merlin that's fallen ill by whatever it is that's struck Morgana down? Merlin didn't know how that could have happened, and he still didn't know why this man thought he could show up and… offer his assistance? Assistance with what? Even if Merlin had been the one taken sick, he was pretty confident that he wouldn't have wanted this stranger within two inches of him, let alone when he was unconscious just like Morgana currently was. But before Merlin could demand more answers—what story was this man going to tell them, and why did he think an illness striking Merlin meant he should be allowed to be near him, and did that mean the man was wanting to get close to Merlin and not actually Morgana—the stranger was reaching upwards and slowly tugging the hood off his head so that they could finally see his face.

And almost immediately, Merlin had to hold back the gasp that was trying hard to rip its way out of his throat.

He didn't know what he had been expecting when he saw this man's face… he may have considered the fact that he would be staring into the eyes of a would be killers, though whether his goal was Merlin or Morgana was uncertain. What Merlin hadn't been expecting to see was somebody… not as hideous as he had thought, despite the massive facial scar that covered half the man's face, and then disappeared to somewhere beneath his cloak. Merlin's couldn't stop from looking over that scar—a burn, it appeared—intensively, tracing his eyes along the spots where scarred flesh melded into smooth looking skin. He also didn't appear to be as old as one may have thought considering his strange behavior, though he was obviously older man Merlin. He was quite young, and he could only guess that the man was probably a small handful of years older than the prince was, closer to his mid-twenties. And despite the massive scar, it didn't seem to do anything to stop his reddish colored hair from growing normally so that it fell around his face in… elegant clumps. Was elegant climbs even a real thing? Merlin didn't think so, but it sounded like the closest way for him to try explaining it. But the most striking feature about the man would have to be his eyes, even the one that was looking at them through a slight slit due to how it was tugged down by the burn. They almost looked like jewels though, a green jade that Merlin had only ever seen fashioned around ladies necks in the form of expensive jewelry.

Merlin couldn't say he knew anything about this stranger or what his motives for coming here really were, but… he was certain of one thing.

With a burn like that… this stranger had to know exactly how fragile life was.

"I don't think I can… say for certain where any of the confusion came from but I fear your trip was wasted if it is the consort that you were wanting to see on bed rest. But as you can see, I am more than capable of being able to walk in this kingdom all by myself, which only proves I am not the one that's taken to illness." Merlin finally spoke, clearing his throat roughly as he felt the stiffness in his body starting to loosen. He was still keeping an eye on the man, but as of right now, Merlin was starting to find it very unlikely that the man had came here to kill anybody. Not with the calm and… gentle demeanor he appeared to be eluding. And Merlin even gestured down to himself as if trying to prove that if anybody was sick, it certainly wasn't Merlin. "As I mentioned before, it is the Lady Morgana that's been… stricken with something, though I'm sure that you will understand if I don't go into any details. The Royal family would like for the whole matter to be handled… by the family. But there's no reason to worry, the court physician is the best in all the land. And I'm sure it won't be long before he has an answer on how to treat her properly. Give it time and I am sure you'll hear the news of her recovery once she wakes."

Merlin smiled a little crookedly at the stranger, trying to elude the confidence that… King Uther himself may have carried if he was in this situation. He's not entirely sure if he said too much about Morgana's condition, but if all this had really been nothing more than a misunderstanding, then the man would leave on his own now that he knew whatever… assistance he kept talking about was unneeded with Gaius looking into the matter. But Merlin still gave the knight a glance, trying to say with his eyes to… keen a watch over this stranger. Maybe they didn't need to kick him out of the castle grounds, but if he was showing an interest, they couldn't very well leave him to walk around freely. He may try to find his own way to the royal wing and get inside a different way should he be carrying… less innocent intentions. And speaking of all this… maybe it was better for Merlin to be inside by Morgana's side. Even if he did have to sit in an awkward silence with Uther, of all people… it was possible that there were far more… dangerous people that were interested in the affairs of the royal family. This little… incident, if one could call it that, may or may not be a false alarm, but it didn't mean there wasn't somebody else out there that would try to get inside. Whether their intentions were to hurt Morgana or… be the next one that fueled the gossip mill didn't matter. Either way, Merlin was starting to feel that urge inside of him. The one that said… Morgana needed him to watch her back until she was capable of doing it for herself. But when Merlin was turning back around to leave the… curious looking stranger in favor of finding his way back to Morgana's side, the consort was subsequently startled when there was this hand suddenly grabbing onto the sleeve of his coat to stop him from making it very far.

"Wait, YOU are Consort Merlin?"

And almost immediately, the guard was standing at Merlin's side, his hand on his blade where the hilt was pulled out just enough for the base of the shining metal to be seen, emulating a threatening aura around him. This was… quite a surprising reaction considering this was one of the few guards that Merlin did not at least know the face of. But it wasn't surprising, at the same time. Things have been… strange… ever since Merlin's relationship to his uncle had came to the public's knowledge. Before, most knights could hardly stand looking in his direction without harmful intentions reflecting in their eyes, and he had been a victim to more cruel 'pranks' than ever before. Even after Merlin had risked his life to save Arthur during the whole… poisoning incident, he had still been the victim of more than a few pranks. But then Merlin's heritage came out, and it's like… nothing. Complete and utter silence from the knights. Merlin didn't really notice at first, since those first few weeks after the news had broken had been when Merlin had been sheltered away in his uncle's chamber studying what he could get his hands on about his new lands. But the last few days since he had been back in the city after his tour of the estate had been… different, he would have to say. The pranks and the bullying and whatnot seemed to have come to a complete and utter stop. Not a single person had tried to prank him, or tried to mess with him, or tried 'putting him in his place.' Not to say that they were treating him with the same respect they gave to Arthur or Uther or even to the unconscious lady upstairs, but there was not a certain… distance between him and a majority of the knights. Most seemed content to do the bare minimum of acknowledging him, with things like nodding their head in his direction as he'd be passing them by. Others seemed more interested in him now that they have come to know him as 'a lost heir returned.' Apparently being the only heir to a dying bloodline like Gaius' had been was… far more significant than being the peasant husband of their prince. Merlin still wasn't… entirely sure what all this meant for his future, but he would have been stupid to not take what peace he was getting from all this.

"Ah! Again, I must ask that you forgive me for being so forward! I was not… I've not expected to walk into the Consort of Camelot himself. Clearly it was simply some sort of… mix-up, but I was under the impression that it was our fair city's consort that had fallen ill." The stranger said, quickly dropping Merlin's arm as he took a step back before the knight could do something like taking his hands off with the blade. But not before Merlin felt something… inside his stomach as the man's finger brushed against his own as he was letting go. Something that made the magic under Merlin's skin burn white hot before cooling down to the usual light flutters he could feel during a normal day. The consort frowned, as he stared down at his hand absolutely baffled by the reaction. Was that a good thing? Or was his magic trying to warn him about something… Merlin could not say he had ever had such a reaction from meeting somebody before. All of the magic lying beneath his skin usually just… hung out inside of him, like a friend that never went away. At least until he was using it, which he definitely wasn't doing right now. "I know that it's probably presumptuous of me, but I couldn't stay where I was and do nothing when I thought you, my consort, had been fell to a fate most uncertain. I'm sure I'm not the first to say this, but I've heard so many stories about the great consort that stands above our land and keeps a protective eye over the people no matter their status or wealth. I simply could not bear the thought of you being in distress from whatever had ailed you, not when you have become such an important figure and role model to the entire kingdom as a whole."

The stranger finished what he was saying with a generous bow to the consort as if conveying all of the respect he held for Merlin, or at least, for the rumors and stories he had probably heard about Merlin along with the rest of the city. But all at once, Merlin seemed to have forgotten about the way his magic had reacted to the strangers touch, in favor of trying to push down the glowing red burning across his cheeks as embarrassment flustered him. Usually, he would have been unsettled about somebody approaching and expecting him to act in some heroic manner they had imagined just because they had heard a few odd stories that didn't even capture the real truth of what had happened. But there was a certain… Merlin didn't want to say charm, but… yeah. There was a charm around this man that spoke of something… different afoot. Especially when the consort started to realize… this was less of a Jacqui situation and seemed as if it was more of a Lancelot situation! After all, Lancelot had traveled to Camelot in order to start his official training as a knight only after he heard the tales of a peasant boy making waves among the royal court in his quest to make a real difference between the upper class and lower citizens. He had even spent time admiring Merlin to an… unhealthy degree before they had met. And Lancelot's now his personal—banished from the city—guard, and currently making a path somewhere west as he traveled towards the border of the kingdom. Could this man be another Lancelot? The circumstances were different and he doubted a man as… fair looking as the stranger in front of him was also a soldier. But this definitely now had Merlin's interest piqued.

"What's going on here?"

X

Arthur Pendragon hadn't known what to expect from himself or how he would react to being able to simply… speak to his consort for the first time in almost a week. Even though he had been in… close quarters with Merlin the brief few times they would be passing by each other to visit Morgana, he had managed to keep up a distant front when he was around the other boy. Mostly by trying to focus on Morgana and whatever his father needed of him so he could spend the most time by Morgana's side, and it had gotten to the point where ignoring Merlin's presence these last two days were really the only thing he could do to deal with the situation he and Merlin had going on now. But it was difficult… as if there was a constant pressure on his chest that left him drowning. With that consort of his thinking Arthur could have killed him, and now with Morgana on the brink of death itself, he wasn't entirely sure how much more of this he was able to stand. Although the document he had rolled up with his first squeezing around it was the only thing Arthur could do to relieve some of the pressure in his chest. Since Merlin and him couldn't exactly separate… he was hoping that Merlin would be able to understand what Arthur was trying to say whenever he finally presented this parchment to him.

That there were others, trusted others, that he could go to.

It shredded Arthur's insides as if he was being cut into a million pieces by the blade of a razor, to entrust Merlin into somebody else's care, but… things were coming to a head between them, and Arthur just couldn't do this anymore.

He couldn't keep throwing himself at Merlin's feet and expecting something to change between them.

And the whole incident at the estate… it might have finally been the one thing that opened his eyes.

Merlin was never going to be willing to forgive him for the things he's done.

Arthur had simply spent the last two months being blind to it.

It was Arthur's fault, of course. But staying away from Merlin… it was the only thing left for him to do.

What Arthur hadn't been expecting when he came across Merlin quite early in his search for him, his legs feeling as if he was wading through quicksand with each and every step that he took, was to find him standing on the front steps of the castle. With both a knight and… somebody that Arthur could not say he recognized, which wasn't exactly off putting since strangers came here asking for something or other all the time. But what was off putting was how close the stranger seemed to be standing by his consort on the steps. It wasn't obvious at first glance, but it was still a bit… too close to be considered a respectable distance from somebody noble. And the prince could already feel the way that he was bristling under his coat, a familiar action that overtook him every time he was put off by somebody unexpected being around Merlin. And his eyes fell into sharp slits, the muscle in his jawline twitching, and his hand squeezing so tightly around his parchment that it felt like it may rip beneath him. But this act was so incredibly familiar to him, as if Arthur had pulled on an old coat simply out of habit more than anything else. Strangers being about his consort always left Arthur… unsettled, because he didn't know what their intentions were or if they could sense Merlin's innocence like blood in the water or if they planned on trying to use him for their own gain.

But when Merlin turned his head around at the sound of Arthur's question, the prince felt as if every cell in his body had just frozen up. It may have happened instantaneously, but to Arthur, it felt as if a large bubble had appeared directly in the center of his chest and was about to burst when he caught his first sight of Merlin's blue eyes for the first time today. And the images flew like rabid fire one after the other… Merlin with bruises around his neck from being strangled, and Merlin explaining what happened after Jacqui had been led away, and how nonchalant he had been about the whole ordeal. As if it should've been a given for Merlin to have assumed Arthur was behind everything, Arthur just knew the face he was making as he remembered those things… remembered the way his consort would sit by Morgana's bedside like some sort of vigil angel, had to be a reflection of his pain. And the prince schooled his features, putting all of this on a mental lockdown. Burying it all so far deep down… Merlin has seen much more of Arthur than the prince wished he had these last five months. His pure anger and absolute loathing when he had thought Merlin was out to get him or ruin him, and his disgust and trepidation that would come when he would bear witness to something surprising. But Merlin didn't need to also bear witness to the… self-loathing that roiled through him every time he saw the other boy and was reminded of his past behavior. And the prince adopted a poor adaptation of his usual swagger as he walked down the rest of the stairs to where they've gathered, giving the stranger another once-over as he tried determining what kind of threat he might be.

"I don't believe I know you, do I? What business do you have here?"

Arthur was all brisk and no-nonsense as he demanded answers with the kind of poise and confidence that only somebody who had been born into a power and wealth that most people could only dream about. And he did nothing that would hide the fact that he was currently staring at the stranger's horrible scar that stretched from the top of his face, disappearing into his hairline, where it vanished somewhere beneath his clothing. Arthur supposes the stranger may have been here to try seeking some sort of healing treatment for the horrible facial wound, though it also looked as if it was years old so the prince wasn't even sure if something could have been done for him. Not that it mattered, as Gaius wasn't taking on any additional patients until this whole incident going on with Morgana could be… resolved. One way or another, the prince thought in the privacy of his own mind even as his heart once again twisted painfully in his chest. Warning him of a shadow that seemed to be following him… maybe even Morgana's shadow. Constantly whispering in his ear about how he earned Merlin's loathing with his own selfish actions, and taunting him with knowing it had been doomed to end this way ever since Arthur made his first mistake all those months ago that would set him down the path he had followed.

"Ah, and you must be the young Prince Arthur, yes? Forgive me, it's been many years since I've been in the city and so the Royal family is somewhat of a blank spot for me, other then what I've heard through the villages I pass through as I look for work about your lovely young consort here." The scarred stranger said as he waved a frighteningly scarred hand in Merlin's direction, which made the consort jolt in surprise as he turned back around to face him. His eyes seemed to grow huge, and Arthur just knew it was at the surprise of being called out as … lovely. Arthur's bristling came back as a prominent scowl dropped along his face… who the hell was this man to call Merlin lovely? Not that he wasn't, but it was not as if it was this man's place to comment on such things. And not only that, but the stranger had called Arthur 'the young prince', as if he was a child or something instead of a married man. Perhaps it was nothing more than just an innocent comment, but it still caused his irritation deep beneath the skin. It wasn't as if this man was old enough to see him as 'older' than Arthur! Two or three years at the most! Hardly old enough to be calling somebody in the same age range 'young.' But definitely too old when compared to Merlin's very naive nineteen years. "You see, I earn my living by offering medical assistance to the people who live in the outer ranges of the kingdom, places that don't have any access to a proper healer or their own. And when I heard that the consort was in need of help, or Lady Morgana I suppose it is, I came to offer my services to the crown. My name is Edwin Muirden, and you see, I have quite a remedy that is able to cure all ills."

Perhaps Arthur was just looking for reasons to hate this man, but this 'Edwin Muirden' felt far too smarmy, beneath his smooth tone and gentle demeanor, for his tastes. And even though the knight that had been part of this was now leaning forward to whisper urgently into Arthur's ear about the brief and little misunderstanding they had, the prince couldn't stop his gaze from falling on Merlin. And watching as the way his pink lips mouthed the words 'remedy that is able to cure all ills.' And Arthur's spine went stiff… surely the other boy was not just going to believe this man just because he said he had something. This was clearly nothing more then some kind of shaman act, just a stranger that's trying to get rewarded off their pain by hoping they were desperate enough to invest in something that would turn out to be nothing more then flavored water instead of a cure. People like that came through Camelot every now and again to try selling remedy's to people who would fall for every lie being spun around in their direction. Arthur just hadn't thought Merlin would have fallen for such a cheap trick, not considering all of the many times he had seen something the prince himself hadn't seen just before they ended up having to fight in order to protect themselves. But perhaps that was why Merlin needed Arthur… perhaps he could pick up the slack and catch those that Merlin missed. Merlin, despite his suspicious nature of everybody around him, was still so new to the lifestyle that came with being Royal. Unable to see the fakers who would pretend to get a single coin instead of finding proper work in the fields or something… no. He was being stupid. He was trying to make excuses already for why he needed to be near Merlin. Needed to protect him. Need to share space with him so those like this stranger couldn't fill his head with lies and false promises. But… was it Arthur's place to protect Merlin. Yes, he was his husband and if there was ever a direct attack from somebody, then the prince wouldn't hesitate to jump into action.

But… Arthur couldn't keep intervening in Merlin's life if this… distancing thing was going to work.

"Ah, yes, of course, I see now." Arthur said briskly, his lips thinning tight with his wavering indecision, when the knight finished explaining what's been going on before the prince had stumbled upon the group. He couldn't say he actually liked the idea of this stranger traveling to get here just because he thought his consort was the one that was sick. And the idea of this 'Edwin' being a traveler only made Arthur's suspicions grow starker. Without Edwin having a real place that he called home, it would make it harder for any of Arthur's men to find out any off-putting information about the man's past. He really didn't like seeing it, the interest and curiosity gleaming in Merlin's eyes… no. This was him simply… trying to find any reason that would cause Merlin to stop short. In other words, it was Arthur intervening again. And other than this man seeking to profit from them, Edwin hadn't done anything that was criminal. Arthur's discomfort was… his to work out. "But if you know anything about my consort, then I'm sure you know that his uncle is our court physician, and one of the best healers among the kingdom. And he's working on Morgana's condition even as we speak, but that is private information that doesn't concern you. Your services aren't going to be needed, so you can vacate the grounds since you have no actual reasons to be hanging around."

Arthur thought he was being quite generous by not having the man submitted to an interrogation from the best breakers—a little nickname given to soldiers who excelled in getting information out of difficult people—that this side of the kingdom had to offer. But Merlin was giving him a death glare as if Arthur had somehow insulted him and Edwin both for being so dismissive towards all this 'help' that Edwin was promising them. And this was a reminder to Arthur about why he was holding the parchment in his hand. He couldn't even keep Merlin a good distance away from some snake charmer without the consort getting his undergarments into a bunch around him. But Arthur wasn't worried about this man. This… this Edwin could go back to wherever he came from and the blond would not find it difficult to sleep about it. In fact, he was content to ignore the man watching them, as if he was not surprised at all about Arthur turning away his offer at the door, as he focused his full attention on Merlin. Watching as his dark bangs flopped just above his eyebrow… it looked as if it had grown a little bit longer. The strands hanging a few centimeters further down from where he last remembered them being… stop it! Arthur told himself briskly. Stop wasting his time focusing on Merlin and all the things he wouldn't get to see near often enough once they… worked out the details on how separated they could get.

"Can I talk to you? For just a quick minute? In public but… private enough so I can have a quick word with you? You can leave anytime you want if you do not like what I have to say. But I think… I think that this is something that you may want to hear."

And Arthur watched while holding his breath as Merlin turned to him silently, quirking an eyebrow up at him as if the prince was stupid for asking him to do this one thing for him. And perhaps Arthur was stupid! But that was why Arthur told Merlin it could be in a public area, just down the stairs would even end up being a good place for them. Public enough that Arthur couldn't murder him if he didn't want witnesses, and private enough that they could talk without any people—like Edwin, which was a completely stupid name in Arthur's absolutely humble opinion—listening in on their issues. And though it looked as if Merlin was about to tell him to… shove what he wanted up his arse and leave him the hell alone, the consort nodded. Just once. Quick and over with. Which would probably be the way he wanted their conversation to happen. And this made Arthur's hand tighten around the parchment he was holding once again, sweat making his palm clammy. This was really happening, the prince thought as the panic washed through his mind. He was really going to take Merlin aside and talk to him about the… arrangements that Arthur was making so that the blond wouldn't be directly involved with him any longer. Not unless something really dire happened and Merlin was once again on his death bed.

"I am really sorry about him. My husband doesn't interact well with others and can't do a thing without dragging me into it somehow. I would really like to be able to… hear more about your healing remedy and how it might differ from all the things that my uncle has been trying. I've never heard about anything that can do what you claim it does. What kind of ingredients would even be inside of something like that? And is it more difficult than making a simple pain relief tonic? Because my uncle's been teaching me some stuff in his spare time but most of his potions are more… complicated than what a novice like me can do properly."

And Arthur saw the way that Merlin was grimacing, as if recalling some failure he must have had with these 'potions' that were too complicated for him to be able to make properly. But Arthur was sure that was a gross over explanation… whatever trouble Merlin might be having under Gaius' teachings was nothing that he wouldn't be able to get through. He did only just start this whole being interested in healing, thing a few months ago, so he probably simply needed a bit of practice. Arthur had sure needed more than a few months to get as good as he is with his blade. But what Arthur didn't need was to hear Merlin getting sucked into whatever lies Edwin was going to tell him about his potions. As if a vial or two of colored water was going to miraculously wake Morgana before it was time for the final bell of the evening. Edwin filling up Merlin's head like this was only going to end in misery for everybody once Merlin himself realized he was falling for such pretty lies. If such a thing like that truly existed, then he is sure that they would have heard about it or at least knew somebody who saw it in action for themselves. Such things like that wouldn't have stayed a secret unless there was a reason for keeping in secret. Like the fact that it was only a trick to fool the brainless. And so, Arthur tried to put a stop to Merlin's sudden interest by stepping forward and—bad Arthur! Bad!—grabbing Merlin beneath his underarm in order to get his full undivided attention.

"I really do need to see you. Now."

Merlin started to glare, and the muscles beneath Arthur's hand started to go so rigid, but the prince wasted no time before he started tugging Merlin down the stairs and towards where he knew there was a little alcove hidden beneath the shadows of the stairs. He was only slow enough to make sure that Merlin didn't trip over his own feet, always so acutely aware of how Merlin could be a tripping hazard all on his own, let alone when there were stairs involved. But as they were reaching the bottom steps, the stranger—Edwin, the man who was thinking he was so smart for going to Camelot's Consort with his magical cure all remedy—called out to them from where he stayed standing, watching them with all of the intensity that Arthur usually watched Merlin with. Creepy. Is the prince as creepy as that is when he's watching Merlin? Because if so, then it's no wonder the consort has all but thrown him aside.

"I'm sure that your physician is quite good at what he does. I have heard the stories about what a great healer the kingdom has at its disposal, and I would not dare to disparage somebody with not only with years more of experience in healing then I do, but somebody who also shares the same bloodline as the consort himself does. Quite an impressive family of… skilled people. But if your physician finds that he is stuck and doesn't know how to precede forward with the Lady Morgana's treatment, then I am staying at the inn while I'm inside the city. I have often heard that two heads are better than one, and sometimes all it takes is a fresh set of eyes to… get down to the root of the problem."

Edwin was one slimy bastard, the prince thought as his lip started to curl up in disgust. It would be a cold day in hell before he allowed this man to hand over a single drop of whatever he was trying to sell them to Morgana. But what was even more disgusting was how Edwin couldn't seem to resist slipping in those well-meaning compliments to Merlin. Trying to soften his consort up, no doubt about it. He could probably see Merlin's interest a mile away, but Edwin would find himself hard pressed to get anywhere with these false promises of his. His consort would see the truth once Arthur got it into his head… if it's something that Arthur was allowed to do. Warning Merlin against being tricked… that was not following him around and being around him more than necessary, right? He had seen everything happening right in front of him, so it's not as if Arthur was stalking Merlin again and happened to see it when he shouldn't have…. Arthur didn't give Edwin a single answer to indicate that he had heard him. Instead, it felt as if the shadows swallowed him and Merlin up as he tugged the consort in the small alcove where 'Edwin' would not be able to see them.

And good ridden, Arthur thought grumpily as he watched the knight starting to escape Edwin from the courtyard.

X

Edwin Muirden, like Merlin and Arthur both, had been having an unexpected morning. Though it was not one that he was entirely upset with. Yes, he had been greatly surprised when the knight he had been talking to had led him to the consort himself, who was not only up and walking around, but seemed to be completely fine. And Edwin wasn't exactly sure how that happened… those beetles that he keeps in close contact with him do not lie, so he knows for a fact that the Consort received his flowers, so how they ended up being placed in Lady Morgana's care was a mystery. But it was a mystery that did not mess up his plans in the slightest. He had been assuming, from the stories that he's heard over the last few months, that the prince would be desperate for a cure if it was his consort nearing death. But… the consort was nothing more then a hated pawn in his scheme he had wanted to get rid of for the sins of not only marrying into a family as cruel as the Pendragon's were, but for daring to be related to that monster Gaius by blood. Uther was the real target he had been hoping to work his ways towards from the chain of events he had put in motion by sending in his beetle to do the dirty work. This was a more direct approach then what he was going for, but after fifteen years, he figured the king was not going to recognize him as the young boy that he had been when they had last crossed laths. And it was no secret that the king adored the ward that's been placed in his care, so… Consort Merlin or Lady Morgana. Neither were so very important that their role in his plans was absolutely crucial.

No matter how badly he had wanted to shove Consort Merlin down the stairs… he might not be able to help who he was related to, but he'd made the wrong c damn choice when he decided to align himself to the Pendragon's.

Though Edwin, as he got himself re-settled back in his room at the inn, sitting with complete ease at his table, confident that it was only going to be a matter of time before Gaius realized there was nothing to be done and Arthur came to his door, had to admit that he had not expected the consort to be so… normal. If the knight he had been talking to hadn't brought Edwin to him, then Consort Merlin was a man that Edwin could have easily walked past without being any wiser to his real identity. Edwin had heard that Consort Merlin had a few little… eccentrics that made him stand apart from the rest of the royal family. But the peasant clothes had been… something else. And even just thinking about how the consort presented himself made Edwin scrunch his face up in disgust. Just who did Consort Merlin think he was, playing at being one of the people? He's got the resources to walk around in clothing made out of solid gold silk, and it felt like a mockery for the consort to act as if he didn't. It felt like a mockery to have been talking to the consort at all, though Edwin was willing to ignore how it should have been Merlin that Edwin 'saved' when the time came. But at least Edwin had gotten something out of the short meeting… he knew that the other boy was not very smart. Or, in other words, he would extremely easy for him to manipulate should Edwin see an opportunity there. He had almost had the boy eating out of the palm of his hand with a few short words. Merlin may've even been willing to lead Edwin to the royal chambers the second he had explained about his little… remedy, if only that bloody prince hadn't shown up.

At least those parts of the story that Edwin had heard seemed to hold up, so it would be something that he could work around without any surprises trying to crop up. Arthur Pendragon's protectiveness towards his consort was a legend that was almost as strongly told as the things that the consort has been apart of since he became royal and was no longer a no named boy. And the man had not disappointed Edwin when he had came pelting down those stairs when he had seen them together. An overprotective husband that liked to hover… it was almost like Edwin's wet dream had come to life. Others may have found it to be an inconvenience, but Edwin had always loved a challenge. And if he could get beneath the skin of Uther's spawn while he was here, maybe drive a wedge to further separate the consort and his husband, then he would be a fool if he did ignore the opportunity when it arouse. It wasn't what he had wanted, but if he could get closer to the consort, find a way to draw the boy to him like a fish on a hook, which he already seemed to be doing, then Arthur would be distracted by their inherit… closeness. Yes, Edwin started to grin… Uther would be utterly helpless if Arthur thought he was more interested in being near his consort. It would be a… redirection, so to speak. Keep Arthur busy so he wouldn't see the true nature of what Edwin was going after…

And who knows, Edwin thought as he absentmindedly started playing with the bottle of brown liquid he used as a prop—his 'remedy'—to hide that he's really using beetles to stage illnesses, perhaps he could figure out what was making this persistent itch beneath his skin so adamant. It had taken him a little while to figure out exactly what it was… Edwin's skillset had never falling into things such as 'sensing.' A useless sector of magic, as far as Edwin was concern, but that was probably more because Edwin found it difficult to focus his magic so delicately that it would pick out the subtle traces of another magic user in the area. That had been a… curious thing, though Edwin's lack of sensing abilities was making it hard to pinpoint exactly where the magic user was. They had to be quite strong though, if Edwin had been able to pick it up at all. And magical strength… it wasn't something that should be wasted. Whoever was still using magic within the city, had practically saturated the walls of the city with their magic. Edwin wouldn't exactly call it a claim, something that sorcerers would do as a means of protecting their home and warning others who came into the borders that somebody else had already made the space theirs, though it was extremely close to one. But usually it was just a sorcerer's immediate home… and this was an extremely old branch of magic. So for Edwin to have just stumbled across somebody that knew of it, in a day and age where there were so few knowledgeable books on magic still around after Uther had them burned during the great purge, and for that same person to have cast their magic from one end of the city to the next…

Whoever had done it must have been very old and very wise.

Edwin would greatly wish to talk to them, should he be lucky enough to get an exact pinpoint of who they were before his reasons for being in Camelot came to its natural conclusion. There weren't many of their kind yet, and somebody who was powerful enough to do something like this, well… perhaps that could be an ally to Edwin. Maybe they could even assist in making the land great for magic-users once again. They had to have their own grudges against the king and what he's done to their people… all magic users did. Edwin just needed to find him, and hope that he could see the brilliance in what Edwin was going to be doing by getting rid of Uther.

Perhaps this wise sorcerer could even take the kingdom right from the hands of that dreadful Consort Merlin.