Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Arthur’s little manservant Merlin was a fucking liar, Larkin just couldn’t prove it.

It was infuriating. As a knight for Camelot, Larkin took the safety of his kingdom very seriously.

What he didn’t understand was how no one else noticed they had a fucking snake under their boots.

Merlin would shiver and shake and hide behind Arthur and the other knights, but Larkin saw the truth. He knew eyes like those. Calculated. Clever.

He, of course, could not just throw around accusations, but he didn’t mind the extra effort. He would wait, and strike when he knew for certain that he would not miss.

The first time Larkin met Merlin, it was an otherwise unremarkable moment. Just a flash of dark hair ducking past the crowd of knights gathered on the field. There was perhaps a moment where he was passed a water skin, but that was the extent of it.

Times after that were much the same - Larkin idly noticing the lanky, jittery creature flitting back and forth between them all. There was even once where Larkin felt an ounce of pity for the man as he was tossed around the field as a ‘training exercise’.

Larkin had found him shortly after, and offered a water skin of his own. Merlin had seemed shocked, but sent him a warm smile and genuine thanks. Larkin didn’t think much on it back then, and would even share cordial nods when they passed.

It was a month later when Larkin noticed the first moment of unease.

He’d been watching poor Merlin fumble around on the field after Arthur. He couldn’t help the small amount of amusement that rang through his chest at the banter the two threw at the other. It had alarmed him at first, the way the manservant spoke to their prince, but soon it had devolved into something akin to endearment. It was obvious the prince enjoyed the chatter, and that was the important thing at the end of the day.

What was different on this day, however, was Trent. Trent was a fresh faced knight with too much ambition and an excess of arrogance. Larkin had been wary of him enough to begin with, and seeing the way he interacted with Merlin had only cemented that fact.

He was, to be frank, an asshole.

Larkin was not sure how Merlin had garnered Trent's ire so swiftly, but it was loud the moment Arthur and his closest knights were out of earshot. Larkin had been pondering for some time now how best to bring up his conduct with one of the more senior knights. It was only Merlin that experienced this from Trent, but if Trent treated the prince’s favored servant this way then who was to say how he’d treat people he viewed as lower than even him? It did not inspire much confidence, at the very least.

For whatever reason, Arthur set it in his mind that Merlin was to assist Trent in training that day. He was not sure how it happened, just that it had. It hardly mattered anymore. Larkin had been moments from suggesting maybe Merlin help him instead, when he saw it.

Larkin had grown up surrounded by the scum of the earth. Nobles and politicians ready to stab you the moment your back was turned. All he’d known in his life was a bloodied battle to the top of a hill made of corpses. He’d escaped to knighthood specifically to leave that behind him. He wanted to do something good with his life.

Larkin had been happy to find that, other than petty squabbles, being a knight did not breed that sort of behavior. At most, he'd seen others with grudges put worms in their boots or embarrass them in front of the prince.

This was not that.

Larkin saw the way Merlin’s person changed the moment he looked away from Arthur, and set his sights on Trent.

Larkin could not explain it in any other way than predatory.

Gone was the warmth of his eyes and the teasing grin he'd just given their prince. All that was left in its wake was a winter's morning. Cold. Sharp enough to steal the breath from your chest. Poking and prodding at your clothes to find the best way to burrow under your skin.

It was strange to see, because Merlin still allowed himself to be pushed around. Still stumbled and muttered and grumbled his way through the day. But that look?

Larkin knew the gaze of a man who would see through his plans to the bitter end.

Larkin felt a little guilty, still, about not helping him. He just hadn’t known how to approach it - or rather, Merlin. His eyes reminded him too much of what he’d left behind.

Thankfully, the berating couldn’t go too far, as inevitably one of the knights closest to Arthur would wander back to Merlin like a moth to flame. Trent had little backbone to continue his petty bullying with them near.

When the day ended Larkin hoped to set the moment behind him. It was only natural to dislike someone who abused you, after all. Of course Merlin wouldn’t like him. Perhaps Larkin was just overthinking it.

Two weeks later, and Trent was dead.

Bandits, they said. But what had Trent been doing wandering in the woods alone in the pitch of night?

The next time, it was a noble passing through. He was an awful actor. Even a knight as low on the rung as Larkin had heard wind of the very unsubtle moves to cozy up to Arthur. There was no doubt that it was done out of pure greed - there was no kindness in those eyes.

Needless to say, the noble did not treat a manservant as bold and confident as Merlin very well.

Larkin watched, and just once, he had seen it again - deference to Arthur turned swiftly to the jagged edge of an old knife the moment Merlin looked to the other man.

The noble had died of a heart attack, so they said, just four days later.

By the third time someone had seemingly had… connections to Merlin before ending up somewhere in a ditch, Larkin found it impossible to look him in the eyes. He began to keep his distance, wary of potentially insulting Merlin or the prince enough to garner Merlin's proper attention. Merlin seemed shocked by this new attitude towards him, and Larkin only found himself more confused. The shock had seemed genuine. As if he had no reason to believe anyone would want to steer clear of him.

As if he did not think he was doing anything wrong. Larkin had, at the very least, thought that perhaps Merlin had his own code of morals. If this was really happening, and he was murdering those who slighted he or Arthur, then Larkin had at the very least hoped he kept his morals in check - twisted though they would be. It would not cleanse him of those sins, but it would have helped Larkin feel at least even a bit better about having to arrest him when the time came.

That might not be the case, however. And what little evidence Larkin had tried to covertly obtain would be nowhere near enough to arrest him with. He had to be careful about this. He had to sit, and wait.

Larkin was a very patient man.

The fourth had been an old man on the road. He’d seemed unassuming, at first. They were halfway to a village the knights had been called out to investigate disappearances in, and the old man had been hobbling along on his slow moving mule.

They’d stopped and offered to help him, but he’d waved them away. Due to the night quickly encroaching on them, however, they all decided to spend the night camped together.

Larkin had to admit that he did get… slightly strange energy from the old man, but he chalked it up to simply that - an old man without care for social standing any longer.

Merlin did not seem to agree. Larkin had begun to habitually observe Merlin any chance he got, these days. He assumed that is the only reason why he saw it - hardly a moment’s flash of that same gaze. Steel, and a slight twitch to Merlin’s head as he observed the old man speaking with Arthur.

Larkin was not sure what the old man had done to deserve Merlin’s sudden attentions, but he knew little good could come of it.

With that in mind, Larkin quietly planted himself near the old man. He even agreed to take the first shift’s watch. He tried to take the second and third, as well, but by the time the third shift rolled around he felt sleep dragging him down viciously.

It felt almost unnatural, how swiftly exhaustion dug it’s claws into his spine and yanked.

He had only a moment to think, I hope the man survives this night, before the dark took him.

Larkin woke to chaos.

The old man was dead. Merlin was sporting a rather wicked cut to his arm, and retching in a nearby bush.

Larkin could only gather the story in short bursts, with the way the others were fussing around the camp, the body, and Merlin.

The old man was apparently a sorcerer in disguise. He’d put a sleeping spell over the camp, and gone about trying to assassinate Arthur in his sleep.

Merlin, who’d gotten up to go to relieve himself, had come back to find the knights unconscious and the man standing over Arthur with a blade in the air.

The next bits were hazy with confusion, as Larkin could not bear to go and ask Merlin himself. Something about Merlin tackling the man to the ground, and the shock shaking loose the sleeping spell for some. Some of the knights awoke and rushed to help, but not before Merlin was struck with the poisoned blade. Hence the retching.

Either way, the man was dead.

Larkin wished he could take this situation at face value. Merlin had seen a threat to Arthur’s well-being, and dealt with it despite the risk of his own safety. It was an honorable thing to do.

But the situation was strange. Larkin had too many questions. How did the man not sense Merlin getting up and leaving? How did he not sense him returning? How did Merlin, such a scrawny and weak armed thing, overpower a man who had obviously spent his life in the fields? And a sorcerer, no less?

Why would the man not use a poison that would kill someone in moments? One could say he wanted Arthur to suffer, perhaps, but Merlin had claimed the poison would be fine in a day or two. He had herbs to help, he said. Larkin was aware he was Gaius’s apprentice, but still.

It was all so odd.

He could not say anything. Especially not now, with Arthur obviously fighting to remain calm even as his panic was worn clear on his face.

Again, Larkin stayed back, and watched.

“I don’t think he likes me very much,” Merlin said as he blinked after Larkin's disappearing back. He’d been acting strange for a while, but even more so after the attack a few nights before.

Arthur snorted. “Please. You’re overreacting. It’s been a rough few days on the road, and we’re all tired.”

Merlin wasn’t convinced. His acquaintance with Larkin was pretty confusing, to be honest. At first they'd seemed on cordial terms, if not friendly. Then, as though something had changed overnight, he was suddenly avoiding Merlin as though he assumed Merlin would light him on fire the moment they so much as glanced at each other.

The conflicted look on Larkin’s face when Arthur had asked him to help Merlin gather firewood for the night had only helped further that assumption. And then the way he quickly assured them that he could do it himself before nearly running away had Merlin rather unsettled.

Just what in the hells had he done this time? He couldn’t fix it if he didn’t know!

Larkin needed to get more intel. The next time he heard Merlin would be accompanying some of the nights on a small mission, he asked to come along.

“I am aware I have much to improve on,” Larkin told Leon. It was not quite a lie. A knight should always strive to strengthen their skills. “I only hope that by observing our prince and his closest, to be able to accomplish that.”

Leon studied him for what felt like a lifetime; eyes raking over his face before he finally nodded. “Very well. I will ask if we can spare room for another.”

Larkin bowed his head. “Thank you. I will endeavor to make your kindness worth it.”

Leon shook his head. “It is not a big deal. I hope you find the trip insightful.”

Insightful, it was.

The bandits were a bit too well organized. They managed to separate them all like cornering hogs to the slaughter. Larkin was not sure how long he’d been fighting, but it was long enough to lose track of the others.

Where had they even come from? They were not even a full day’s ride away from the castle. Had they been following them this whole time? Just how often was Arthur accosted by people trying to take his life? They’d just came back from dealing with the last one!

“Three murder attempts in one week,” Merlin grumbled as he picked his way carefully through the underbrush. Sure, he was a bit scared for his safety, but at this point he was more annoyed at the inconvenience than the threat to his and his friends’ well-being. “Absolutely preposterous. I’m going to put that damned prince in a room and never let him out. I just want one trip without risk of imminent death, thank you very much - “

It was then that Merlin stumbled into yet another problem. The sorcerer that Merlin had been tracking through the fray was looming behind a lone Larkin, hand poised to strike. Larkin was in the midst of drawing his sword from an enemy’s chest; completely unaware of the man behind him.

Why did Merlin have to do everything himself?

The sword he’d stolen felt heavy and wrong in his hands, but Merlin was nothing if not opportunistic.

The man was dead at their feet.

Larkin could not take it any longer. It had been an enemy, sure, but now he’d finally seen it with his own eyes. Merlin was capable of murder. He knew it. He knew it -

“Are you alright?” Merlin asked; eyes wide and chest heaving. He held the sword in his hand awkwardly and his words shook escaping him, but he could not pull the wool over Larkin’s eyes any longer.

Larkin scowled at him. “I knew you’d show your true colors eventually.”

Merlin looked shocked for only the breath of a moment before he cocked an eyebrow at him; head tilted. Slowly, the sword lowered. “True colors? And by that do you mean saving your life? Should I have let you die?"

“You can’t fool me,” Larkin spit back. Merlin’s body stiffened ever so slightly; chin raised to stare down his nose at Larkin. As if he were some creature covered in filth and not an honorable and just knight of Camelot. The insult - “I know men like you. Waiting for their chance to strike. Either you want me to be in your debt, or you’ll spin this to make me look bad in front of the others.”

Abruptly, Merlin looked bored. Larkin felt his hackles raise even further at the slight. As if he was a waste of time - “I care little to bother myself with either effort where you’re involved. I don’t know what I’ve done to get your anger, but I’d very much like to go back to ignoring each other.”

Larkin scoffed. “You think I could go back now that I know you’re a hazard to all of us? Please. I know not your end goal, but I can assure you, you won’t reach it with me around.”

There was a glint in Merlin’s eyes, suddenly. Dangerous and bright. Despite himself, Larkin had to fight from instinctually backing away. He stood his ground - as he would always do - and glowered at Merlin in defiance. Merlin’s next words were a slow drawl, “Really? Well. I hate to disappoint, but I’m not whatever evil mastermind you think I am.”

“I’ve told you your lies won’t work on me - “

“They won’t believe you,” Merlin interrupted; voice low and rumbling with an unspoken warning.

All it did was add fuel to Larkin's fire. “Do not think me stupid! I cannot turn a blind eye to this any longer - “

“Merlin?” Arthur stumbled out of the tree line with the others in tow. Relief bloomed on his face at the sight of them; smile warm. “Larkin. Good to see you both in one piece.”

Larkin cursed himself for looking away from Merlin. When he’d glanced back, he’d become a completely different person. Eyes impossibly wide again; shoulders raised to his ears and expression meek. When had he dropped the sword in his hands? “I’m thankful he was near,” Merlin said. The words were almost believable. To everyone else, it was. But Larkin knew the truth. Had to wrestle down the anger from showing on his face as Merlin sent him a sickeningly sweet smile. “I think I might have lost an arm or two if he’d not been here.”

Before Larkin could respond, Gwaine was slapping him on the shoulder with a laugh. “Good man! It’s always helpful to have another set of eyes on Merls here. He’s practically made for trouble to find him.

Larkin narrowed his eyes at Merlin. “Yes. I’m beginning to see that.”

Merlin smiled back at him, unabashed. Bastard.

“Alright, let’s not waste anymore time,” Arthur announced. “We’ve got to report back. And Merlin, do stay close. We don’t have the time to go wandering after you should you get lost.”

“Yes, Sir,” Merlin chirped, and slithered up to Arthur’s side as if he belonged there.

Larkin was a problem Merlin had not yet figured out how to fix.

He would have to deal with it eventually, but for now he would have to bide his time, and watch.

Their spat had only made the distance between them larger. Larkin seemed unable to hide his distrust of Merlin, now. Gone were the days of cordiality, and instead Larkin would hardly attempt to fight the grimace on his face when Merlin would catch sight of him. He steered clear of him during training, and watched his movements with distrusting eyes every time they were in forced proximity.

The issue was primarily that he was not an open threat. He didn’t seem to be doing it out of pure malice, but instead some misguided idea of propriety and protectiveness.

Had it been a different scenario, Merlin would have been thankful just for the extra help in trying to keep that prat Arthur alive. As it were, Merlin would like to keep himself out of a dungeon cell, thanks.

So he couldn’t solve the problem by uncovering and thwarting a coup or overpowering an overconfident sorcerer.

Instead, he had the painstaking job of sitting and waiting for shit to blow up in his face. Then, he’d wing it and boom - fixed!

With his luck, he wouldn’t have to wait long.

While Merlin had ensnared knight, servant, and prince alike, there were a select few he seemed to have his claws in especially tight.

Gwaine had seemed to notice his… distance from Merlin. It was making things difficult. Larkin wouldn’t have much cared, as he wasn’t overly fond of Gwaine’s less than honorable conduct. It was unbefitting a knight of his station. The issue was that Gwaine was horribly unsubtle about his growing distaste of Larkin, and it was making those closest to Gwaine also hesitate around him.

He could not hope to have a leg up in his argument against Merlin while the entire gods damned knights of Camelot thought that twig of a man shat out daisies.

It had him reconsidering how he could go about addressing the issue. But what really had him actually somewhat anxious was this -

Lancelot’s gaze on him was searching. “Lancelot,” Larkin greeted him stiffly.

Beside him, Merlin relaxed into the wall. “Lancelot,” Merlin said at the same time, voice breathless as if they’d been throwing punches.

All Larkin had done was remind Merlin that he would not fool him.

“Everything alright?” Lancelot asked. His face was perfectly impassive, but Larkin knew well that Merlin dogged his shadows nearly as much as he did Arthur’s.

As much as Larkin looked up to Lancelot, he was afraid this would not be a battle he could win. Instead, he decided to cut his losses. With a great sigh, Larkin inclined his head to both men. “Yes. My apologies. I am aware that my recent actions are unbefitting a man of my station. I have been… well. I will not make excuses. I hope to make it up to you some day, Merlin, but for now I imagine it would be best that I make myself scarce. Good day.”

Larkin was, at the very least, silently smug to see the genuine surprise on Merlin’s face as he left.

“What was that?” Lancelot asked, voice as gentle as the hand he covered Merlin’s shoulder with.

Merlin, still somewhat reeling from the sudden change, shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know. He hates me, I’m pretty sure. He thinks I’m some evil mastermind. He was just telling me how my great and dastardly plans won’t work.”

Lancelot frowned. “What did you do?”

“Nothing!” Merlin exclaimed. Genuinely, this time he hadn’t, thank you very much! “I’m serious!”

“I believe you,” Lancelot replied.

Merlin’s shoulders slumped. “Maybe… it’s fine now?”

Lancelot made a considering face before he grimaced softly. “When have we been that lucky?”

Merlin sighed. “Never,” he grumbled.

Honestly, Merlin preferred it when Larkin would scowl at him openly.

For the last few weeks, he’d been downright polite. It was freaking Merlin the hell out!

With little else to do now than simply gather more information, Larkin set about trying to get information from some of Merlin’s servant friends. Perhaps if he had an idea of maybe why Merlin had not only came to the castle but also positioned himself beside the prince, he could get a better idea of how to handle him.

His personal quest lead him to Gwen, a prominent servant he’d seen ghosting after Morgana and Arthur both before.

The moment he’d asked about Merlin, her gaze had turned steely. “What about him?”

Surprised by her immediate defensiveness, Larkin found himself stumbling in his words. “Ah, well, I am simply asking in hopes of getting your opinion.”

Gwen seemed suspicious. She crossed her arms; eyebrow ticked up. “On what, exactly?”

Had she heard of his behavior towards Merlin as well? If she was as close to Merlin as he’d heard from others, then it was entirely possible. Very well. A different approach, then. Larkin gave her a somewhat bashful smile. “I, well. It’s rather embarrassing, but I have realized I’ve made quite an arse of myself in regards to your friend. I was hoping to get your opinion on how best to make it up to him.”

Gwen squinted at him, assessing. “Why haven't you asked one of the knights, then? Merlin has friends there, too.”

Larkin chuckled softly. “Yes, but their solutions would be something barbaric like ‘get him a sword’ or ‘take him to a tavern and order him so much ale he forgets’. I was hoping for a more genuine approach.”

Gwen was silent. Honestly, it was more nerve wracking speaking to her than it was Lancelot. Larkin waited patiently for her verdict; kept his smile calm and poised.

“They sell this pastry he enjoys down in the market on Saturdays. He’s too busy helping Gaius or Arthur to be able to go often. It’s a breaded pastry with blueberry jam. In the stall a few sellers down from that, there is a woman who sells hand cream. He works with his hands so much that they ache and crack when the weather turns cold,” Gwen finally told him. She seemed hardly swayed by him even as she was speaking; voice firm and underlined with a warning. “It is a start, but I suggest you perhaps go about correcting your behavior as a whole, should you really be repentant.”

Larkin inclined his head to her. “Of course. Thank you for your assistance, I will do my best to apologize properly.”

Gwen hummed. “Good. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have chores to attend to.”

Although Larkin had realized that Gwen would not allow him to pry further into her knowledge of Merlin, the conversation had been enlightening, either way.

Even on his way to finding Gwen, he’d met with servants who were quietly abrasive towards him the moment he mentioned the man. This told him another crucial detail - Merlin was beloved castle-wide. It was something he had been vaguely aware of, but the depths of people’s protectiveness surprised him. This was no simple fondness. This was loyalty. Not to a king or a prince, but to a mild mannered servant. Just what did they all see in Merlin that had them react this way?

“He claimed he wanted to apologize,” Gwen told him.

Merlin groaned. “That makes no sense! Just the other day he was claiming I was this great; awful fiend. The change is freaking me out.”

Gwen hummed. “Yes, I’m not convinced, myself. Be careful, Merlin. At the very least, don’t end up alone with him.”

Merlin sighed and rubbed at his face. He was exhausted. Couldn’t he go two days without something happening? Some plan always needing foiling or some strange sickness was always lingering about. Merlin couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten more than a handful of hours of sleep. “Okay, yeah. Thanks for letting me know, Gwen.”

Gwen’s smile was soft and comforting. “Of course. I’m on your side no matter what.”

The next time there was a mission to be had, it was a bit more difficult to get his place amongst them. Leon had seemed to hesitate at his request, and it had taken Larkin lying about wanting the “chance to make up his behavior towards Merlin by assisting him how he could” to get Leon to agree to ask again.

Somehow, it had worked.

Larkin made a frantic note to himself to - should there be a similar situation in the future - not show his hand so loudly.

His father, damn his soul, would be furious at his lack of foresight.

Merlin hardly had time to be annoyed about Larkin joining yet again as they set out from Camelot. Nearly the moment they left the city proper, he felt something.

He couldn’t pinpoint what it was, but he’d been in enough life or death scenarios by then to realize the gaze of ill intent when he felt it.

Infuriatingly, no one else seemed to notice anything amiss. He did not see any eyes in the tree line, nor any arrows flying at them.

If anything, their trek was downright pleasant. The day was not too warm nor too frigid, and the knights were all in a rather playful mood.

Larkin hadn’t even tried to sidle up near him to confuse him with his eyes full of distrust but his words covered in honey.

Merlin should have felt better, but all it did was make him anxious.

Merlin was acting weird. More weird than usual, at least. Larkin was baffled that no one else noticed his eyes scanning their environment constantly. The tension to his shoulders. The nervous and distracted laughter he’d make when someone spoke to him.

Many times had Larkin looked to try and catch a glimpse of whatever Merlin was searching for, but found nothing.

The curling sense of wrongness would not leave him no matter how hard he tried. If Merlin, of all people, seemed truly disquieted, then he loathed to see what exactly was causing it.

“I think it best I get some more firewood,” Merlin told Elyan with (what he hoped was) a confident smile. “It’s windy out tonight, and I don’t want our only spot of warmth leaving us.”

Elyan kept his frown steady. “Are you quite certain? I can wake one of the others, and I can accompany you.”

“No, no, it’s alright, really. Keep watch. I won’t go far, I promise.”

“Alright, if you’re sure,” Elyan replied; eyes searching. “I’m serious, Merlin. One step too far and I’ll come right after you. I’ll not be the one to lose you.”

Merlin grinned. Poor Elyan. He felt a bit bad about this. He’d have to make it up to him later. “I’ll be careful! Thanks.”

Merlin turned, and tried not to rush away from the camp. Something was very wrong, and he’d flush the problem out before it could have a chance to strike.

Merlin had been acting squirrelly (worse than the ride here, somehow) the moment they settled for camp. He’d kept careful track of Merlin even as he feigned sleep; tracking the low sounds of speaking and shortly thereafter the footsteps heading away from them.

Larkin peered over his shoulder just in time to watch Merlin heading into the surrounding forest.

What in the hells was he doing? Elyan, with his back to Larkin and the others, hardly seemed concerned.

Larkin did the only thing he could think of - followed Merlin.

Hopefully, there was little trouble Merlin could actually get into so close to camp, right?

Right?

Merlin spit out the blood pooling in his mouth. He was thankful that a tooth did not follow with it.

“Served yourself up to us on a silver platter, did you? I appreciate the effort, really,” the man was saying. Merlin hardly heard him through the ringing in his ears. He’d been so busy trying to shake Larkin off his trail that he hadn’t realized he’d had a second tail. It had been stupid of him. He knew there was something off, and yet he’d still gotten himself here. "This whole time I've been wondering how to get you alone, you know? Figured that once we get you out of the picture, we'd be able to handle the rest pretty easily. I've heard your prince is pretty attached to you, yeah? Maybe he'd fetch me a pretty penny in exchange for his little toy back."

Merlin felt the magic building in his palms, eager and thrashing. He chuckled lowly, amusement and pain making him shake. “Like he’d ever give you the time of day.”

The man sneered. “You’d best watch your tongue. I didn’t say I would give you back in one piece.” The man crouched beside him; green eyes bright in the moonlight. Voice low, he continued, "This is good for both of us, you know? When you killed my old man, you really put a damper on things. Some of my men thought that made my family unfit to lead. Something about a mere servant getting the best of him. Not that I particularly care, but the story struck me. A servant, defending his master so desperately? Surely there was more to it, and I'm pleased by what we've seen. Not only will I get a sizable sum for your pretty little head, but I can even let my men get some of their anger issues out. Win-win, no?"

A clamber of movement to their left had both their eyes snapping towards it. “Got another one, Judd. Scrounging around like a rat.”

Merlin felt dread dawning on him like a winter’s frost. He could do nothing to stop it from crawling across his skin as another thug dragged Larkin toward them through the trees.

The magic immediately fled him as Merlin closed his eyes and breathed out a soft, “Gods dammit, Larkin.”

Judd considered Larkin as he thrashed in the other man’s hold. To his credit, two more men had to help keep him from wrestling away. “I don’t need him. Kill him.”

Panic shot through Merlin like a bolt of lightning. He tried to scramble to get up, but Judd simply kicked him back down. “Wait - “ Merlin grit his teeth and tried to sit up again. Larkin was an asshole and frankly a pain in the ass, but he couldn’t just sit around and watch him die. “Listen to me! He’s worth more to you alive!”

Judd paused with his foot pressing painfully into Merlin’s already aching side. He raised a single eyebrow at him. “Oh? Enlighten me, then. I’m in a giving mood today.”

“I - he wouldn’t tell you himself but he comes from a noble family in the south. They’ve been looking for him for some time. They think he went missing. There’s - there’s a reward out and everything.”

Judd chewed on his words for a moment before looking back to Larkin. “Well? You a rich boy?”

“I - yes. Of the Begbie family,” Larkin admitted. Even with a dagger to his throat, Larkin looked more surprised that Merlin knew.

Merlin almost rolled his eyes. He wasn’t an idiot. If someone tells you they think you’re going to commit regicide or something, then you’re going to look into them, too. Merlin had long since been an ear bent toward servants with particularly useful gossip. He didn't even have to ask them himself, most days. They came to him, eager to 'prove their usefulness' to him. He wasn't sure why they were so convinced that getting on his good side would help them in the eyes of Arthur, but he wasn't about to squander the opportunity.

Judd hummed low in his chest. “Fine, I’ll bite. Bring him, too. But if you’re lying, I’ll carve your tongues out myself.” Merlin let out a shuddering breath and almost slumped in relief. It was the only reprieve he was granted as Judd grasped the back of his neck and slammed him face first into the dirt. “Now, if you’re a good little hostage, we won’t have to lose any fingers, understood?”

Merlin was too busy spitting out mud and blood to reply.

Chapter Text

Larkin was turning the moment over and over in his head, even as he was being shoved onto his knees. Why had Merlin saved him? Sure, Merlin had been captured, but he was undoubtedly a problem for him. If Larkin were in his shoes, he would have let him die. But he hadn't. The panic in his eyes had been real.

How had he even known he escaped his family?

The thugs could unfortunately tie a knot well. He tested the restraints the moment they were done with them, and earned a kick to the chest for it. His teeth rattled in his skull as his chin cracked against the stone floor.

"I'm quite impressed, actually," the leader - Judd? - was harping on as he circled Merlin; eyes glinting in the dim dungeon light. "You noticed us before anyone else. At first, I wasn't sure how exactly you'd murdered my father. Smart man, he was. But now I see that we underestimated you."

Despite himself, Larkin huffed a laugh. He was glad to see that he wasn't the only one that had made the mistake of dismissing Merlin. He might be the biggest threat in the room, when given the proper circumstances. "Shut up!" One of the men hissed before kicking at Larkin's temple. Larkin just managed to move away in time for it to clip the edge of his cheek instead.

"Have something to share with the class?" Judd asked in a bored drawl as Larkin tried to shake away the swimming sensation that had invaded his head. "Know something about our friend here, hm? Maybe you'll talk instead. How many fingers will it take, hm?" A boot pressed against the side of Larkin's head; grinding his cheek into the stone. Larkin attempted to squirm away, but every time he moved his head he was struck with a wave of dizziness that made him gasp.

"Leave him alone! He has nothing to do with this!" Merlin barked. He sounded awful. He hadn't gotten a good look when they'd dragged him into the foray the first time, but now he could see the dark stain of a frankly worrying amount of blood on Merlin's shirt. How he still had energy to hiss and growl at them was beyond Larkin.

"He does if I say he does," Judd replied easily. Pressed further against Larkin's skull. "I thought you and princey had something going on, but is this one your side piece or somethin? Why are you this concerned about him?"

Larkin could not make out Merlin's expression from the shoe now in his field of vision, but his voice was nothing but baffled. "What? I don't want him to die, obviously? That's something a normal human would feel for anyone. Guess you wouldn't know about though, would you? Doubt you've got much of a soul in - "

Merlin's next yelp of pain had Larkin cringing for him in sympathy. The shoe was gone as Judd spun back around to hurl curses and kicks at him. "Stupid! Fucking! Prick! Worry about yourself - "

"Doing a bad job of keeping your paycheck safe, huh?" Larkin couldn't help himself. If they kept this up, Merlin would be half dead by the time the others rescued them. He wasn't sure why Merlin had saved him, but his worry seemed true. Larkin could not call himself a knight if he did not try to protect one of his own, as well. "Gonna be dead by the time you try to send word to anyone. You think the kingdom would let a liar go easy? If you take their money and they find him dead, it’ll be a manhunt. Surely you aren't stupid enough for that.”

Fury flashed across Judd's face as he spun to look back at him. Larkin couldn't help but grin. Good. Anger was easy to predict. Easy to manipulate. If he could just keep his attention -

The moment Judd turned his attention away, Merlin jerked forward and bit him on the ankle. Judd howled in pain and reared back with his other foot to kick Merlin off of him. Larkin hissed in sympathy when his boot connected and sent Merlin tumbling back. "Merlin! Are you okay - "

Merlin was too busy laughing. "Underestimated me again, did you?" Merlin asked. His bloody smile made the manic look in his eyes all the more bone chilling. Judd's steps towards him halted, just barely. "Tell me, which one was your father again? There's so many of you that I lose track, you know."

Judd snarled, and reached down to grab Merlin by his hair and yank him up. Larkin strained against the ropes binding him again, panic filling his lungs. If this kept up, then he stood no chance - “Listen here you little prick. I’ve had it with the both of you. I don’t care how precious you are to your little manwhore. I don’t care how much your friend’s mommy and daddy misses him. You keep this up, and I’ll slaughter you both. I can get money from some other rich asshole.”

Yet still, Merlin was grinning. His chuckle was more of a gurgle in his throat as he whispered something to Judd. Larkin couldn’t hope to hear it, but whatever it was stopped Judd in his tracks.

“What the fuck did you just say?” Judd asked slowly; eyes wide.

“You heard me. It’ll work. I don’t give a fuck about them. I know too much,” Merlin replied. “They would have killed me eventually.”

Judd was silent for a long moment before he slammed Merlin back onto the floor and stood. “Alright, then. I’ll play your little game. But if I do this and he doesn’t, it’s your head.”

Merlin shrugged from his place curled up on the floor. “All the same to me. Dead is still dead.”

“Freak,” Judd hissed. To his men, he barked, “Out. Now. I’ve got some letters to write.”

“What did you tell him?” Larkin asked, some hours later. At least, Merlin assumed it was hours. It was hard to tell, with the ever present threat of more beatings looming over him. Maybe he’d overdone the snark. They seemed to be dissuading any attempts at leaving by making sure both of them were beaten within an inch of consciousness.

Merlin shrugged weakly. The cell was small, and cramped with the both of them. He could hear the laborious wheezing from Larkin’s lungs clear as day. “That I had intel that Arthur was a bastard son and I’ve been using it to blackmail them. Said I could get him double the money he wanted if he mentioned it.”

Larkin and his wheezing paused. Merlin looked over to see him watching him with wide, gullible eyes. “Is he?”

“No, you idiot,” Merlin hissed, and threw a hectic glance toward the cell doors. Nothing, thankfully. Larkin let out a relieved breath. It blew a tangle of curly hair out of his face before flopping back in his eye. “I’m trying to not get us killed. You really believe I would do that?” It was a stupid question. Larkin had literally told him he thought he was planning to do - something regicidal, at the least. “Don’t answer that, actually.”

“I simply don’t know what to think,” Larkin admitted. “It is easy enough to position yourself as the savior when you know the plans ahead of time. I have seen quite a few people rise through the ranks by sabotaging their own men before. The best way to gain trust is by taking a sword for someone.”

“I would never - “

“Never is a strong word,” Larkin interrupted. Paused to spit out a glob of blood. Despite their situation, he seemed relatively calm. “Every man has their desires. Wants and wishes that are stronger than loyalty or love. Anyone in a position close to the prince should be scrutinized and expected of treachery to some point, don’t you think? You cannot tell me you have not looked at him and seen what you can accomplish through him. Everyone is a means to an end. Even Arthur. Perhaps especially him.”

“Don’t you dare insult me like that. Everything I do is for him,” Merlin spat. He knew he should conserve energy, but he felt his heart hammering at the injustice of it all. He did so much, and yet even now people tried to take his efforts away from him - to diminish them as if he had not given his and others’ lives for Arthur. The insult - Again, this time forced through clenched teeth, Merlin hissed, “Everything. You have no right to say that to me.”

Something like realization dawned on Larkin's face. Merlin was slightly concerned to see it, as it was obvious he never knew what he thought he did. “Ah. That’s what it is, then?”

Merlin frowned. “What?”

“You truly love him,” Larkin said, very bluntly. Like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I thought it perhaps might be a ruse to better help whatever plans you have, but you really do love him, don’t you?”

Merlin sort of hoped that their captors would come back in and give him another stab. Put him out of his misery. “I - what?” Merlin’s soft laugh was more out of pure shock than anything. “I - I don’t. What?”

Larkin had the audacity to roll his eyes. “There’s hardly a reason to hide it. I know you’re, ah, handling issues for Arthur without him knowing. There are only a few reasons that someone would do that. While I’m not entirely convinced that you aren’t still doing all this for some sort of personal gain, I can see that a lot of it is much more simple.”

“What? I don’t - you’re assuming quite a lot about me,” Merlin said, voice strained.

“Well, I have eyes,” Larkin retorted.

Fucking hell.

“Arthur is a good… friend,” Merlin said rather lamely.

Larkin rolled his eyes. What a bastard. “Gods be damned, Merlin, I won’t throw you on a pyre for being gay. It’s not illegal.”

“Why are you assuming I’m gay?” Merlin shot back.

Larkin gave him a considering look. Squinted his eyes. “Hm. My previous statement stands.”

“What?” Merlin could have never anticipated where this conversation would go. They should be talking about ways to escape, not Merlin’s nonexistent love life.

“I’ve never seen you look at a woman the way you do Arthur,” Larkin replied with a shrug.

Well. Joke’s on him, he’d never seen Merlin around Gwen when he first came to Camelot. Sure, now he couldn’t fathom her in a romantic light, but he’d been enamored back then. Granted, who wasn’t at least a little in love with Gwen, anyway?

“Wh - you hate me! Why would you be paying that much attention to what I do, anyhow? Are you the one in love with Arthur?”

Larkin scoffed. “Please. I have better self-preservation than that. Something you don’t seem to care for.”

“This entire conversation is uncalled for,” Merlin told him, and slumped against the wall in defeat.

“You’ve been murdering people for your beloved for as long as I’ve known you, if not longer. I do believe that warrants a conversation or two,” Larkin pointed out. He seemed rather nonplussed about the entire situation now, and reclined rather annoyingly against the wall.

“I have not! Just what in the hells did you think I’ve been doing all this time?”

“The timing is all very suspicious. You’re always nearby when something happens. Half of the deaths we’ve had around us have been people who have wronged either you or Arthur.”

“People are pricks all the time! That’s a huge pool to pick from!”

“You killed that old man a few months ago.”

“He was trying to assassinate Arthur!”

Larkin shrugged. “It all seemed too coincidental to me. Anyway, I don’t know why you’re trying to convince me when we both know that you won’t. I’m right, simple as that.”

“You’re dreadful is what you are,” Merlin muttered. Frankly, he’d prefer their captives giving him another beating over this monstrosity of a conversation.

Him? In love with Arthur?

Merlin would think he’d notice if that were the case.

“Dreadfully right, perhaps. Anyway, I’m still not quite sure what to do about you. What are the chances that you’d tell me if you had some grand plan to overthrow the king by wooing the prince over to your side?” Larkin asked.

“Why are you so certain I’m some scheming prick?” Merlin asked, feeling a little desperate over the whole thing. He wanted to never speak about this again. Ever. Absolutely mortifying. “I have no want or need to overthrow this damned kingdom when I try so hard to protect it! Do you know how many people try to kill Arthur weekly? As his manservant, I’m usually in the thick of it! I’m tired. I’d much rather a vacation. You think I’d give myself more work? Preposterous.”

Merlin wanted Larkin to go back to ignoring him completely, because now he was nodding along to Merlin like he understood. Which was horseshit, because no one could truly understand the shit Merlin had to deal with daily.

“I’ll have to think this all over once Prince Arthur saves us.”

Merlin glowered at him. “You sound awfully certain of that. I’ve been trying to think of a way to break us out instead of waiting on him - I doubt he’s even able to track us down.”

Again, Larkin shrugged. “Well, Arthur’s in love with you, too, so I’d imagine he’d be trying to get to us quite swiftly. Not that he wouldn’t already be. Simply that desperation can be quite the drive.”

Merlin’s brain stopped for a moment. Had he died? Is that what happened? Did he die the moment he'd been struck with the sword back there? Arthur? Love? Him? Merlin needed to lie down.

“I need to lie down,” Merlin announced, and let himself flop over sideways. It was uncomfortable, what with the rope tying his hands together but at this point it was moot. He’d die here, anyway. If not by an enemy sword, then by Larkin's thoughtless comments. “You’re crazy. You’ve actually lost it.”

“Don’t be a baby about it. We’re all grown here. No need to act as though you’re some blushing maiden.”

“I think this is the worst conversation I’ve ever had,” Merlin said. Stared at an ant as it marched its way across the floor. “And that’s saying something. You wouldn’t believe the conversations I’ve had.”

“Please. No need to be embarrassed. It’s admirable in a way, really - “

“I’m going to bed,” Merlin lied, and painstakingly rolled over just to drive the point home. His side throbbed at the movement, but he’d do anything to escape this conversation at that point. Voice bland, he said, “I’m very tired. I can feel consciousness fading. I have no choice but to rest. Goodnight.”

Larkin sighed. “You’re a terrible liar. How have you gotten this far?”

Merlin refused to reply, and definitely not because he genuinely didn’t know the answer to that.

Sometime later, and Merlin is not sure how long as by some point his mind had grown hazy with a crawling fever, Larkin asked, "So you're not together, then?"

Merlin groaned. "I don't want to talk about this." His throat was dry and his side hurt because of the gods damned stab wound and he was hungry and his everything hurt from the beatings and the rope and the frigid ground he lay on and he just wanted to go home. "We're not talking about this."

Larkin hardly seemed to hear him. He didn't seem to be in much of a better position than Merlin. Merlin, despite his disdain for the man, was actually rather worried for him. He'd taken to egging on their guards any time they'd step into the cell, and had a half swollen face to show for it. Merlin wouldn't be surprised if he'd broken a few ribs with the way his breath crackled past his lips.

Shit. They really needed to get out of there. Merlin could save them, probably, but he wasn't sure how he'd do any magic without alerting the guards or Larkin or both. Larkin already thought he was a treasonous murderer. The last thing Merlin wanted was to throw his biggest secret at his feet. It would be a one way ticket to the pyre, and Merlin was in no hurry to go on a trip, thanks.

But if they didn't escape soon, well…

Merlin's side burned in that bone-deep way that whispered of infections. Larkin had begun to cough from deep within his chest that only seemed to further his pain. Something would have to happen. He'd been hoping that Larkin would fall asleep so he could wing it and come up with some excuse later, but Larkin seemed determined to stay awake.

"I just always assumed you were, what with how you two are," Larkin was saying. His eyes were trained on nothing in particular. He still hadn't picked himself up from where he'd been tossed down on the ground by a guard he'd called a 'piss loving cuck' (Merlin had gotten another kick himself for the surprised laugh that had escaped him) and didn't seem to care to try and get up again.

"With how we are? What does that even mean?" Merlin squawked.

Frankly, it felt scarier to anticipate whatever hair brained answer Larkin came up with than the possibility of further abuse from their captors. Larkin shrugged, and then seemed to regret it as he hissed in pain. Finally, through gritted teeth, Larkin explained, "You know. What with the eyes and the sighing and all."

"I - what? My eyes are normal! I don't sigh!"

Larkin finally looked at Merlin with wide eyes. "Ah. That's right. You probably haven't seen it. Sometimes, when you leave, Arthur will do this little sigh. I don't think he knows he does it, but it's all very sweet."

Merlin was in actual hell. He had to be. "I highly doubt he does whatever it is your addled brain believes he does - "

"So you're really not together?"

"No!"

Larkin grunted. "Pity. Say, do you think that if you were together, maybe you'd calm down with all the killing? At least let Arthur handle it. Surely he can do that much, at least. Not that I don't think it's all very noble - trying to protect your beloved without worrying him, I mean."

Merlin, despite the protest in his body, twisted to give Larkin a panicked look. "Larkin. Whatever insane idea you have cooking in your brain right now is not worth wasting what little energy you have left on. You are delirious with pain. Please, please drop it. We are not together. We will never be together, because Arthur does not love me."

Larkin looked distinctly distressed by that, and that alone. "Oh. That's so sad."

"No, it's not! Because I'm not - "

"Don't worry. I'm sure it's hard to see when you're living it, you know? But I'm certain he does. Hell, most of Camelot is." Most of Camelot? Merlin was going to throw up. "Alright, then. I've decided," Larkin said, voice as determined as it can be through his shallow, open mouthed breathing. "Once we're out of here, I'll help you with it. Maybe then you'll stop with all the murder. It will be good for you."

"Did they drug you or something?" Merlin asked, quite genuinely. "That would be the only explanation for this."

“No need to be embarrassed.”

“I’m not embarrassed!”

For once, Merlin’s prayers were answered. It was, of course, his most volatile one to date. The cell door swung open, and in came two more thugs; grinning with thinly veiled blood lust.

Maybe, if they hit him hard enough, he’d pass out and forget this entire thing happened.

There was chaos, just beyond their cell. Larkin could just barely hear it - the familiar clang of battle. Merlin had long since stopped talking to him, and Larkin had become too drowned in nausea and dizziness to try and get a good look at him. The only thing telling Larkin that Merlin was still alive was the soft pained noises that escaped him every so often.

“They're here, sounds like,” Larkin told Merlin. His voice was scratchy and as painful as the rest of him. He fought a cough down. His ribs hurt enough as is without the furthered abuse. “Told you so.”

Merlin did not answer, even as their cell door burst open sometime later.

Arthur was on his knees beside Merlin before he quite processed what he was seeing.

"You're okay, you're okay." Arthur's voice came out softer than he'd intended. What he'd intended was a calm voice of reassurance. Something both Merlin and Larkin could rely on - to know they'd be okay once they heard it. But what tumbled out was a shaking, stilted tone. His hands, too, fluttered around Merlin's too-cold body anxiously. "Come on, then, Merlin. Up you get."

Merlin groaned, and curled further into himself. He was shivering, and unnaturally pale through the fog of bruises on him. Arthur wished he could bring back to life the bastards that had done this to him, just so he could run them through again. "..'rthur?"

"Yeah, I'm here," Arthur replied, but got no answer. He gave Merlin's arm a squeeze, and tried calm his new surge of anxiety. He looked so frail, like this.

On the other side of the room, Percival was speaking quietly to Larkin. "How are they?" Leon asked, breathless as he rushed in. "Elyan and the others are keeping watch."

"We need to get them back to Gaius, quick as we can," Arthur said. Gentler, to Merlin, "that's enough of being lazy for one day. We need to go, Merlin. Can you stand?"

"Ugh," said Merlin.

Which, fair.

"I'll carry him," Leon said, and knelt down beside him.

"Careful," escaped Arthur's lips before he could stop it. He barely kept down the grimace at his words, but Leon simply nodded.

"I will be, I promise."

Of course he would. Arthur was simply acting like a child. It was fine. Merlin would not crumble away just because Arthur wasn't touching him. He was being preposterous. "I know. Come on, then. Percival, do you have Larkin?"

"Aye, Sir," Percival answered.

"Good. Let's get them home."

As they were exiting, Larkin called for Merlin through a pained laugh. When Merlin grumbled an answer, Larkin said; grin bloodied, "See? I told you Arthur would come find you."

Arthur's steps faltered.

Had Merlin believed he wouldn't?

Surely not. Surely he knew he would. Arthur may tease him often, but he would always find him. Merlin had to know that. Arthur had assumed he did, at least.

Merlin's reply was rough and rattling, "Shut up, Larkin."

Larkin laughed, and said something else, but Arthur could not hear it through his winding thoughts.

There was something about Merlin laying so still and so quiet that felt inherently wrong.

Every time Arthur looked at him, his stomach swooped uncomfortably. He was more wound than man, at this point.

“He’ll survive,” Gaius said, for the fifth or the tenth or twentieth time. Arthur had realized by the third time he’d croaked out the same words that it was not for Arthur’s benefit, but for his own.

“He will,” Arthur replied quietly, as he had every time, without fail.

He would. He would.

When Larkin awoke, he thought for a disorientating moment that he was back in that cell. He must have made a noise, because suddenly there were hands on his arms. “Easy, friend.” Leon’s voice was soothing and shattered the dream-reality of the dungeon immediately. Larkin let out a shuddering breath and blinked the memories away as best he could. “Good. Steady, now.”

On a scale of ways to be woken up, in the midst of a panic attack was not ideal, but having Leon’s face be the first one he saw didn’t make it the worst way to wake up. Especially when he smiled so gently at him. “Where - “ Larkin grimaced. His throat was fucked. Had he gargled glass in his sleep? Now that he thought about it, everything ached in the worst ways possible. “Merlin?”

“He’s alright,” Leon assured him. “He’s resting in his room. Let me get Gaius, and we’ll - “

Larkin’s hand snapped out to grab Leon’s wrist before he quite realized. Leon froze; face concerned. “How long?” Larkin asked. Desperation had shot him to wakefulness as he realized the circumstances of it - what Merlin said to Judd. “How long were we there?”

Larkin had no idea how he looked, but it must have been bad enough to make Leon’s expression sour in obvious worry. “No longer than a night. We found you both at dawn.”

Shit. Shit. That would absolutely be enough time to - “The bastard - he said he’d send letters. Did he?”

“Who? The man who took you?” Leon asked slowly.

Larkin nodded despite the pain it made burst behind his eyes. Through the ache, he said, “I can’t - my family. He was going to send for ransom for me. I can’t do that again. I won’t.”

“Easy,” Leon said again, somehow softer. “We did not receive such a letter, so I am doubtful your family did either. Either way, we will not let them get near you if you do not wish it.”

Larkin didn’t wish it. If he went his whole life without seeing them again, he’d be happy. Ecstatic, even. “Okay,” he said, because he may not trust many people but Leon was Leon. “Okay.”

Leon gave his hand a comforting pat, and only then did Larkin let him go. “I will go get Gaius. You’re due your medicine by now, anyway. Try not to slip away again, hm?”

Larkin grimaced. “I should apologize to Elyan.”

Leon laughed. “You and Merlin both. You’ve given him a complex now, I think. Although I am happy you had the right idea to make sure Merlin didn’t get into any trouble.”

Larkin felt equal parts guilt and shame curdle under his tongue. He glanced away. “I did not do it for such a noble reason, I am afraid to say.” When he looked back, Leon did not seem surprised, but his face was open and patient. “I - well. It is no secret I have not been kind to Merlin, of late.”

“Yes,” Leon agreed easily.

Larkin sighed. “I thought - I was so sure, but now… he saved me, even after all I’d said to him. I’d thought he was just like - that he was simply an opportunist. But he saved my life.”

Leon hummed. “Yes, sounds like him.”

“I need to talk to him,” Larkin realized. “Apologize properly.” And maybe, if he asked bluntly, Merlin would give him a proper answer, too.

“Good man,” Leon said, and gave his shoulder a careful pat. “He’s still out of it, but I’m sure he’ll hear you out once he’s up and about.”

Larkin nodded. Glanced around the quiet healing room. “…I’ve one last question for you, if you’ll allow me.”

“Anything,” Leon replied.

“Are he and the prince truly not, ah, involved?” Another gift of the day - Leon laughed so hard there were tears in his eyes. Larkin grinned. “So that’s a no, then? How in the world did they avoid it so far?”

“We’ve been trying to figure that out for years now,” Leon told him once he’d finally tampered down his laughter.

“See, I told Merlin half the kingdom knew they were in love, and he didn’t believe me.”

Leon’s laughter began again in earnest. “Oh, what I wouldn’t give to have seen his face.”

“I think that alone kept me going throughout this whole ordeal, honestly.”

Merlin awoke while Arthur was stuck in a council meeting. Arthur had been so relieved to hear it that he’d almost missed the shit eating grin on Gwaine’s face as they made their way back to Gaius’s office. Arthur did not get a chance to ask before Gwaine was chirping, “We’d better hurry, Your Highness. He asked for you first thing.”

A sharp twinge of satisfaction ran through Arthur so violently that he nearly stumbled. Face warm, he coughed. “I don’t know why you’re telling me this with such an ugly look on your face.”

“Why, I’m just pleased to see our friend finally awake,” Gwaine cooed. “You seem quite pleased yourself, Sire - ow!” Gwaine laughed even as Arthur shoved him away from him, and hurried to catch up. “Careful! You’re such a brute. How do you ever expect to lovingly nurse Merls back to health when you - “

“Gwaine. I am begging you to, for once in your life, shut up,” Arthur hissed.

Gwaine raised his hands in surrender. “Not a peep.” For a blissful thirty seconds, he adhered to it. But not a moment later, he was chirping, “I just can’t help but notice how fast we’re walking. Eager to see your - “

“Every word out of your mouth will be another hour added onto training for the next week,” Arthur interrupted him.

Gwaine, wisely, snapped his mouth shut.

“Oh, Merly, light of our life!” Gwaine sang as he swung his bedroom door open. Merlin groaned and shuffled further into his bed as much as he could without hurting himself.

“Go ‘way,” Merlin muttered, and pulled his bedsheet over his face.

Gwaine laughed. “Not yet! I so painstakingly tracked down and corralled our beautiful, kind, loving prince for you after you so desperately called for him. Don’t make my hard work go to waste, hm?”

“Gwaine, will you shut up?” Arthur’s voice hissed.

Had Merlin not been fighting off sleep with all his might already, he would have been mortified. As it were, all Merlin had the energy to do was to peek his head up just enough to see over the covers. “Arthur?” He’d meant to ask quite normally, thanks, but his exhaustion and the truly insane amount of pain medicine Gaius had given him minutes prior made it sound more like all the syllables of his name sandwiched together.

Arthur’s face softened from where he’d been glaring at Gwaine, and he made his way over to Merlin’s bedside. “Yes, I’m here. You needed me?”

Merlin frowned, and tried his best to concentrate, but try as he might he couldn’t remember. The handful of seconds upon waking had been - frantic. Filled with an instinctual need to run. Thankfully, Gwaine had been quick enough to stop him from hurting himself. “Um.” Merlin paused to yawn, and then grimaced. Even his teeth hurt. “Can’t remember.”

“How sweet. Ah, yet again I’m envious of such sweet lo-“

“Gwaine. You’re up to two hours, and that’s only because I’m being generous,” Arthur snapped. Merlin was too sleepy to really understand what exactly Gwaine had been implying, or why Arthur seemed so flustered by it. He instead focused on trying to keep his eyes open, with little luck.

Gwaine, eyes wide, slowly began to back up towards the door. “Right-o. I’ll just. Be outside, then.”

A scoff escaped Arthur as the door closed and he turned back to Merlin. “Your friend is a pain in my arse.”

Merlin chuckled. It hurt to laugh. “Your knight.”

“Yes, well. My point remains.”

Merlin hummed. “Is Judd dead?”

Arthur blinked. “Who?”

“Big guy. Greasy hair. Awful fashion sense. Good kick.”

Arthur’s face darkened abruptly. “The leader? Yes. I saw to it myself.”

Perhaps a bit macabre, but a smile found its way to Merlin’s lips regardless. “Good. Was an asshole. And did - did they send the letter? Did you find it?”

“What letter?”

“Ransom.”

Arthur shook his head. “We did not give him time to. We found you both by the next morning.”

Merlin pouted. “Damn. I lied and said you were a bastard. Would’ve liked to see the look on your face.”

Arthur laughed. “You absolute prat.”

Merlin chuckled, quickly followed by a groan of pain. “Quit making me laugh. It hurts.”

“Quit finding me funny, then,” Arthur retorted. “Ah, wait. That’s impossible. I’m hilarious.”

“Clotpole.” Merlin yawned yet again. Fought against his impossibly heavy eyelids. “Oi. Do me a favor?”

“I suppose I could afford a moment of my incredibly valuable time,” Arthur hummed.

Merlin rolled his eyes, but that made his head hurt so he stopped halfway. “When you see Larkin, tell him he owes me. I - “ Merlin paused. The image of the last time he remembered seeing him in the dungeon was more a smear of blood than an actual image. “I - he is okay, right?”

Again, Arthur softened. “Yes. He is. He said that you were the one to save him.”

“Hm,” Merlin agreed. His eyes had closed without his permission, and now that they were he realized that maybe he never wanted them open again anytime soon. The dark helped his headache at least. “Much as I could. Still got beat to shit.”

“And that in and of itself is quite admirable. I am thankful you did what you could. I am, ah, proud. Is what I am trying to say. Of you.”

That didn’t seem like a thing Arthur would say to him, though, so Merlin didn’t answer. He must have already been dreaming.

Sometime later, maybe an eternity and maybe just a few seconds, Arthur’s voice came again. “Rest well, Merlin. You deserve it.”

Fingers, barely there, brushed against his forehead like he was something precious. He knew he must be dreaming, then.

Larkin's little sister used to tease him all the time about how much of a romantic he was. He couldn't help it. In a world so full of turmoil, who could blame him for appreciating the softer things? True love was a distant dream he hoped for himself one day. A silly, selfish dream, perhaps.

Well. His sister had used to tease him, before she’d tried to poison his wine on his twenty second birthday. Couldn’t very well tease him from jail, now could she?

Sometimes he wondered if she regretted it.

Doubtful.

Anyway. Larkin was a romantic and if you put a prince and his servant in front of him with that much tension then what else was he supposed to do but turn the page excitedly?

That reminded him. He needed to return the book he’d borrowed from one of the castle chef’s daughters. Forbidden Folly had been an utterly delightful read and never again would he be able to think of the name Edmund without sighing wistfully.

Edmund. What a sweet fool.

“Larkin?”

Ah. Right. Gaius was speaking to him. “Yes?”

Gaius frowned. “Hm. Maybe we should give you a smaller dosage next time.”

Larkin didn’t know why. He felt fine. Great, even!

“Yes, that is my point,” Gaius said slowly.

Larkin blinked. Ah. He supposed he said that out loud. No matter. “Say, is Merlin well enough to talk yet, you think?”

“No, and neither are you. Focus on resting first, and then we can take you to visit him. I fear he will be in bed rest longer than hoped.”

Larkin frowned. “Why? Is he okay?”

“Yes, he’s fine, just a stubborn fool. Now, try this. It’s a broth, and should help settle your mind.”

Gaius was right. The broth was delightful. It was turning out that perhaps Gaius was right about a lot of things, actually.

Gaius laughed softly. “I appreciate the sentiment. Now if only one man in particular would agree with you, it would make my job much easier.”

Ah. He’d spoken aloud again. Drat.

It took Arthur two days of silently fretting before he finally broke. He'd gone to visit Merlin in his room yet again, and had even brought him the book Merlin had bemoaned about leaving in Arthur's room. Because he was a kind and good prince, who cared for his subjects. Even if they got on his last nerve.

Merlin had been complaining about how George would surely be messing up his 'way of doing things' while he was out healing. "And then you're going to complain to me about it taking forever, which it wouldn't have happened if George hadn't done it wrong!"

Arthur snorted. "It hasn't even happened yet. This is entirely hypothetical," he pointed out.

Merlin, whose color was finally returning to his face after days of frantic care from Gaius, scowled at him. "It's not hypothetical if I know it will happen. You'll always find a way to blame me in the end, you prat."

This would be where Arthur would throw back another playful insult or string Merlin along with another tease just to hear him complain more. It would be, if Arthur could shake the heavy guilt that had sank its teeth into his heart. Arthur hesitated a bit too long, and Merlin's face morphed quickly into concern.

"What?" Merlin asked; gaze scrutinizing.

Arthur pursed his lips in thought. How did he bring this up without making himself sound like a complete idiot? "Look, Merlin - "

"What? Why've you got that face on?" Merlin shifted in an attempt to sit up straighter, and hissed in pain immediately.

"Be careful, idiot!" Arthur was on his knees on Merlin's bed before he quite realized; hands hovering in the air uselessly.

"I'm fine," Merlin grumbled.

Truly, Arthur had never met someone more annoyed at being cared for than Merlin. "Sure, keep lying to yourself," Arthur said with a snort, and settled down on the edge of the bed. "I - well. I just wanted to say…" Arthur grimaced at himself and his inability to string words together for a single coherent sentence, all of a sudden. Arthur made himself level Merlin with a serious look before finally saying, "I will always come to find you. There's not a world in which I would have just left you there. I would hope you would know that by now." Merlin stared at him, wide eyed. Arthur tried again, "You do know that, don't you?"

The surprise on Merlin's face had no right to make him look so lovely, sitting in the evening sun like that. Even through the yellowing bruises on his face, he cut a striking figure - bedhead and all. "I - um. Yes. I do."

"Good," Arthur said softly. Nodded. "Good," he said again. For a long moment, they simply stared at each other. Arthur cleared his throat and looked away; heart in his chest beating like a war drum. "You still haven't finished mending my favorite shirt, after all. And my boots will need a new shine, and there's a link on my chainmail that needs fixing."

Merlin's expression dimmed, and he cut him with an unimpressed look before he replied in a voice devoid of all emotion. "Of course. Can't forget those, now can we?"

Arthur gave Merlin's knee a hearty pat before standing. "Exactly. Well, I must be off. Try not to get on Gaius's nerves too terribly, hm?" Arthur didn't give him a chance to reply before he was very calmly and regally waltzing out of Merlin's room and doing his level best to escape the entire wing of the castle before anyone else saw him.

It wasn't until Arthur made it to his room and slammed the door closed behind him that he let out the curses he'd been holding back. "Fucking hell," Arthur mumbled into his hands. His face felt alight with embarrassment. Gods. He couldn't go two minutes without putting his foot in his own mouth, could he?

"Prick," Merlin muttered as he (carefully) slumped back down in his bed. For a moment there, he'd thought that Arthur had…

Well. He was foolish to even entertain the notion, anyhow. That damned Larkin just had to go and put ridiculous ideas in his head.

The glare shot Larkin’s way was rather impressive, truth be told. If he had not spent months now watching Merlin’s every move, he might have been surprised to see it. As it were, Larkin only sent him a sheepish grin. “Merlin. I was hoping I could have a moment with you, if I may.”

It looked for a moment that Merlin would actually turn him away, but finally he sighed loudly and motioned for him to step further inside. “I see they’ve let you go sooner than I. What difference is there between us?”

“A stab wound, if I had to hazard a guess,” Larkin retorted blandly as he carefully shuffled his still aching body over to the chair beside Merlin’s bed. He felt like an old man with the way he grunted and grimaced in pain as he lowered himself slowly into it. “I don’t want to keep you long. I just, ah, wanted to apologize. Properly, this time.”

Merlin’s eyebrows shot up. “Wait - seriously?”

Larkin nodded. “I’ve had quite a few days to think things over, and I believe there are many things I could have done differently.”

Merlin snorted. “Understatement, but sure.”

“I still have my reservations, but I wanted to come to you with my concerns directly. You deserve the chance to defend yourself, and I apologize that I did not give you the chance to.” Again, Larkin inclined his head. “I feared that should I bring it up to you, you’d simply get rid of me.”

Merlin sighed loudly again, and when Larkin looked up he seemed resigned. “I hate to say it, but I understand why you didn’t. I wouldn't tell someone I thought was a serial killer my suspicions, either. That’s the easiest way to get to the top of someone’s to-murder list.”

Larkin chuckled. “Yes, that was my thought process as well.” After a moment of hesitation, he continued. Best to just rip off the bandaid. “I still am rather certain you at least had a hand in quite a few of the, ah, proverbial fires if you will. But I’d like to hear from you what happened. Why it happened.”

Merlin took his time replying. Even with half of his hair sticking up and covered in a frankly impressive mound of blankets, he managed to seem suddenly rather imposing.

The confusing thing was, Larkin had not looked away this time. The shift had happened within the blink of an eye. One moment, Merlin sat before him reclined and tired. The next, there was someone else there. Someone older, with the exhaustion in his eyes to prove it.

“I see threats, and deal with them. It is as simple as that,” Merlin finally replied. “I do not know what else you want me to say.”

It was in this moment, with Merlin responding in a voice devoid of emotion, that Larkin realized he must choose his words carefully. “Okay,” Larkin said. “I understand, but what sort of threats? Sure, Trent was an asshole, but I’m not sure a bully always deserves to die.”

Merlin pursed his lips. “He was a spy, set to murder Arthur in the pitch of battle.”

“And the noble right after him?”

“Which one?”

Larkin’s eyes widened. “The - the one with the blond hair and the bad haircut.”

“Ah.” Merlin cast his eyes up a moment before explaining, “it was all very obvious. Poison in Arthur’s cup at dinner.”

“They said he died of a heart attack, did you - “

“No one minds a clumsy servant,” Merlin replied. Stared right at Larkin as if to challenge him.

Larkin decided to move on. “Speaking of. The next I remember was a servant. The girl with the flowers in her hair.”

“Poison again,” Merlin reported. “They aren’t very creative.”

“I was surprised, at this one,” Larkin admitted. “She seemed to fancy you.”

At that, Merlin scoffed and rolled his eyes. “She was not the first nor the last to believe that the easiest way to get to the Pendragons is through me.”

Two things were suddenly very clear to him. One, this was factually correct. Two, Merlin did not believe that it was.

“You are very close with both Arthur and Morgana,” Larkin tried.

Merlin shrugged. “So are others. They are fools, anyway, to believe I’d ever betray them. Should a day come where there is no one left to shield them, then I am dead.”

This was said as fact. The sky was blue, Uther was king, and Merlin would die before he would betray them.

Even if it were not for the loud hum of adoration that underscored Merlin’s every interaction with Arthur, Larkin would still be humbled by such love. True, and whole.

The Pendragons were blessed to have a friend like him.

It had not been what Larkin had expected, but that was the code he had been searching for. Morals, quite simply translated into one thing: will this hurt or help them?

Kingdoms had risen and fallen on less loyalty than what Merlin casually laid out at their feet.

“What?” Merlin asked; nose scrunched. “Why are you doing that with your face?”

Larkin didn’t rise to the bait, and instead smiled. “They are lucky to have you,” he said.

Merlin looked abruptly embarrassed, and looked swiftly away. The blush on his face made him look young, again. “As I’ve been trying to tell Arthur for years.”

“Why do you do it?” Larkin asked gently.

Merlin blinked at him. “I have to.”

“You hide it from them. Why?”

Another half shrug. “Not all of them.”

“But a lot. Why?”

With a huff, Merlin rubbed at his face. “They’ve enough going on.”

“Do you not ask others for help?”

“I’m not going to incriminate others, Larkin,” Merlin snapped.

“I was not hoping for such. I am just awed that you have spent so long protecting them by yourself.”

Merlin shuffled, and seemed to be getting more uncomfortable by the moment. “I have help sometimes, but I don’t want others to get hurt, either.”

“Alright,” Larkin relented. He would get no further with that question, he could plainly see. No matter. “Why do you do it?” Larkin asked again. Merlin frowned. “Aside from necessity. Give me another reason.”

“I - he’s my friend. What other reason do I need?”

It comes to him sharply, how desperately Larkin wished he’d had a friend like Merlin when he grew up. If he’d had him by his side, perhaps he would not have run away.

He was not able to, but Arthur had him. That was satisfaction enough.

“There need not be another,” Larkin said. “In fact, I think that is the perfect reason.”

Merlin didn’t seem to believe him. “If you say so. What else do you need to know before you decide whether or not to arrest me?”

Larkin waved his hand. “Bah. Please. I’m long past that. Besides, do you think Arthur would ever believe me over you? I’ve had more than enough time stuck on a sick bed to think it over.”

“Arthur would believe a talking pig over me,” Merlin grumbled.

“It is astounding to me how you have no idea just how much power you hold over him,” Larkin laughed.

“I - what? Have you heard how he talks to me? If by power you mean worth as a verbal punching bag, then sure.”

Larkin definitely had his work cut out for him. “We’ve really got to work on your social awareness, Merlin.”

“Social awareness? Do you know how many court assassins I’ve survived on bullshitting alone?” Merlin squawked.

“I don’t mean of that kind,” Larkin corrected; grin wide. If anything, Merlin only looked more confused. “Now, if we may move on to the topic of yourself and Prince Arthur I can explain the bullet point list I’ve made of why he’s absolutely in love with you - ” Larkin barely dodged the pillow thrown his way in time. “Now - wait a moment, Merlin! Be careful of your wound!”

A few days later, and Larkin was saying past a mouthful of bread, “So, I was thinking that we do the tried and true “sticking you both in a room and locking the door ‘til you talk about your feelings” trick.”

Merlin nearly choked on his food. “We will absolutely not. I do not need you to turn your delusions toward my nonexistent love life, thank you. Where did you even hear about doing that? In what world would that work?”

Larkin had the audacity to pout. “It worked for us. There’s little to no murderous intent anymore.”

“There’s about to be double what there used to be if you keep saying moronic things like this.”

“Fine. I’ll get back to the drawing board, if you’re going to be such a grump about it.”

Merlin threw his hands up in exasperation. “I want you to stop completely! Arthur and I are not whatever it is you think we are!”

“And the sky is purple and I’m king of Camelot,” Larkin shot back.

“I hate you.”

Three days after that and:

“What about a jealousy plot? You know, we could probably get Gwaine to agree to fake date you for a little bit.”

Merlin stared at Larkin like he’d grown three heads. “I’m sorry. What?”

“You know. Like they do in books. You fake date someone to get the attention of the person you have a crush on. Works every time.”

He was actually serious. The expression he held was perfectly genuine.

Merlin stared at him for a long, long moment before finally replying. “You’re a lot stranger than I first anticipated, and that’s saying something.”

Larkin seemed unfazed. “Ah, well. Is that a no, then?”

“Of course it’s a no!”

The day after that and Larkin floated the idea past Merlin about having him learn from Arthur.

“It’s an intimate thing, you know,” Larkin was saying. “To be a proper swordsman, you must be cognizant of every muscle in your body. Every breath you take. I harbored a crush on my first mentor for quite a while because I was so horribly touch starved.”

Merlin rubbed at his face. “Larkin. I am not letting Arthur teach me how to fight. I don’t care how -“ Merlin stopped himself quickly, but not quick enough for Larkin not to catch the slip up. He ignored Larkin’s broad grin and barreled on, “loyal I am to him. I see how he trains all of you to the bone. That would be hell. I refuse.”

Larkin shrugged. “I’m just saying. The sexual tension on the training field can get rather suffocating.”

Merlin rolled his eyes. “That’s just your wishful thinking when you’re training with Leon.”

Merlin was at least compensated for this horrible conversation by way of Larkin looking more flustered than Merlin had ever seen him. Larkin laughed a bit too loudly. “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about, friend. Ah - is that Arthur I hear calling me? I must be off.”

“He’s not even on the field yet!” Merlin called after his retreating back. “Don’t hand out what you can’t take, Larkin!”

A week of relative calm before Larkin was saying, “So I’m thinking next mission we go on, we do the only one bed trick.”

Merlin almost choked on his drink. “What in the hells are you talking about this time?” Merlin asked through his coughing fit.

“You know, there whole, “oh no we have to share a room at the inn and there’s only one bed! Now we must cuddle for warmth.” scenario.”

Merlin put down his cup. Pushed his plate further away from him. “Every single thing you say to me is a year off my life. Do you want the rest of my food? You’ve killed my appetite.”

“Now, now, I know it’s nerve wracking to think about, but we’ve got to get him to confess somehow - “

“We do not! Because he will not! This is not happening!” Merlin hissed, and threw a frantic look around the blessedly empty room. He knew he should have turned down Larkin’s invitation to lunch. “Are you doing this as a weird way to get back at me? Is that it?”

Larkin gave him a confused look. “What? That doesn’t even make sense. I’m helping you.”

“Stabbing me with a sword to end this conversation would be helping me.”

Larkin’s eyes lit up. “Ah! Good idea. What’s more enthralling than a man who will take a sword for you?”

Merlin kicked him. “Okay, now you’re messing with me.”

Larkin laughed. “Maybe a little.”

Merlin was two more ‘suggestions’ from Larkin from throwing him off the castle wall. “I’m going to go insane, and it’ll be all that prick’s fault,” he whined.

Morgana snorted, and looked rather unimpressed by his complaining. “You’ve got to narrow that down for me. We know too many of those for me to be able to tell by that alone.”

“Larkin!” Merlin groaned, and rubbed at his face.

“I’ve told you that I could simply have him executed,” Morgana drawled, looking rather bored.

“No! Gods, Morgana. I can’t behead every person who gives me issues. Half the kingdom would be dead.”

Morgana shrugged, and reclined back in her seat to continue reading the book she’d brought. Merlin had painstakingly taught her how to enchant the book so that it looked like some romance book that was popular those days, and she’d done it well. The seams of the magic were carefully crafted and well placed. “I believe they’d call that natural selection.”

“That is not what that’s called,” Merlin argued, albeit through his own quiet amusement. He’d been surprised at how easily they got along once they realized they shared the same… hobbies.

That was the excuse Merlin kept giving Arthur, at least.

“What exactly has he done this time?”

It was then that Merlin realized his greatest mistake. By bringing this up, he would have to explain to Arthur’s sister that the knight was dead set on creating some romance between he and Arthur. “Oh - uh. Well,” he stammered. Morgana zeroed in on him immediately, like a hawk to a field mouse wandering too far into a clearing. “Uh. Just some ridiculous things. Not worth repeating, really - “

Morgana closed the book. Merlin was screwed. “You are a horrible liar.”

“I am not!” He had a life time of experience, in fact. He’d not been put on the pyre yet, so he couldn’t be that bad.

“What has he been doing?” Morgana asked again; eyebrow raised like a dare. Go on, it said, lie to me. Merlin was not stupid enough to comply.

“HethinksArthurlikesme,” Merlin said in a rush.

Morgana stared. “Say again?”

Merlin groaned and threw his head back in dismay. “He thinks your oaf of a brother who has the emotional wherewithal of a week old pastry left out in the sun likes me. And I try to tell him it’s preposterous and that he needs to shut up but he just won’t! He’s convinced, and I’ve no idea how to set him to rights! It’s driving me crazy.”

“No need to correct someone who’s right,” Morgana said, like that made sense.

“Not you, too!” Merlin exclaimed. He was ever thankful that only Gwen had the habit of regularly visiting Morgana’s rooms. Had anyone walked in on this monstrosity of a conversation, Merlin would have banished himself from Camelot. “Quit teasing me like this, you’re going to give me a heart attack!

“I only ever apologize when I’m wrong,” Morgana said with a shrug. “I’m mostly surprised that he’s the only one so far that’s said anything.”

Face burning, Merlin hid behind his hands again. “Gwaine keeps teasing me now, too. He and Larkin have been scheming all week.”

Morgana paused again, for just a moment, before she set her book aside and stood. "They'll get bored eventually."

"That's what I thought, too, but it's been weeks."

"Never you mind it, Merlin, we've got better things to deal with, anyway," Morgana said. She'd made her way to one of her many dressers to whisper an incantation to reveal a hidden compartment. She pulled out one of many bags filled with magical trinkets and components they'd gathered for her over the years. "I was hoping to try that spell you showed me the other day. I think I've got it down, but I want your input."

Merlin sighed in relief. "Yes, of course. Let's see it, then." He knew he could trust Morgana to be the anchor he needed in such a frankly absurd storm.

Gwaine and Larkin were sat at the end of a table with their heads bent low together. Even from afar, Morgana could tell they were up to no good. She nearly rolled her eyes. Couldn't trust a man to be subtle for the life of them. So busy they were, in fact, that they did not notice her walk up to them. She heard the tail end of Gwaine saying, "…best idea yet. It's bound to get Arthur's attention, at the very least. But we both know he's a jealous bastard."

"Thank you! That's what I said, but Merlin claimed I was an idiot and ran off before I could talk more about it."

"Do all knights of Camelot make it a habit to gossip about their friends?" Morgana asked in a bored drawl, and relished in the short chaos that followed.

Gwaine let out a curse and hit his knee on the table in surprise. Larkin, whom she'd stopped behind, turned around so quickly he nearly fell out of his chair. "My Lady," Larkin said in a breathless; nervous laugh. "you frightened me."

Morgana raised an eyebrow at them. "I fear I would not have, should you not have been speaking of things you have no business in."

Gwaine stammered, "I - well, My Lady, I hardly know what you mean. We were simply - "

"You know," Morgana interrupted, and Gwaine snapped his mouth shut. It was always so terribly fun to watch her prey squirm so. A smile very nearly escaped her, but she kept her face cold and impassive. "I have many things to be grateful to Merlin for. He has helped me more times than I can count, and I hold him in high regards. So imagine my surprise when I heard wind that someone was causing him such distress."

"Distress? My Lady, I assure you we were not - "

"Did I finish speaking?" Morgana asked. Larkin's apology was ignored completely. "These ideas of yours. What exactly do they entail? And don't try to lie to me, boys. I will know."

Larkin, smartly, waited to make sure she was finished speaking before he began, "I - it is just a small thing, My Lady. We have noticed that Merlin and His Highness are… ah, affectionate towards each other, but for some reason unable to speak of it. We only want them to be happy, which they hardly are dancing around each other like this."

Gwaine, now having regained at least a semblance of poise, shrugged. "Harmless fun. They both need a push or five, and we're inclined to be the ones to do it."

"And what exactly are these pushes?"

Gwaine and Larkin shared a quick glance. Larkin replied, "Nothing dastardly, I assure you. I - truthfully, our latest idea would be very simple. We are aware His Highness is, um…"

Gwaine picked up for him immediately, "What he means is that Princey is very precious with his things and we just want to keep Merlin's attentions away from him for long enough for him to throw something of a temper tantrum."

Gods. Men. So simple. Finally, Morgana rolled her eyes. "That's it? That's the whole plan?"

"I - well. Yes?" Larkin said.

With a huff, Morgana sat down. "You're absolutely hopeless. I can't leave you two alone to do this, as you're obviously making a fine mess of it."

Larkin squeaked a confused, "My Lady?" while Gwaine grinned wide.

He leaned forward and said, "Joining the fun, are you?"

"Like I said," Morgana replied; chin held high. "Merlin has done much for me. I am indebted to him, and he is a dear friend. I want him to be happy. And Arthur is - well. Family, despite how annoying he may be. I won't have you two mucking up their happiness if I can help it."

Gwaine laughed. "Sure, sure. Very honorable of you, My Lady. Very well. What exactly would you do differently?"

Morgana let her grin escape. Finally, some fun around this damned castle.

Chapter Text

Unless Arthur was mistaken, he was fairly certain that Larkin had a crush on Merlin. Which was fine! Completely fine. And a step up from the quiet-yet-somehow-loud distrust he’d harbored for quite a while before.

It made sense. He’d saved his life, and then they’d spent hours on end stuck in a small room together. According to Morgana’s weird books, that was basically the perfect storm for true love or whatever. Not that that was what they had. True love. They barely knew each other, in the grand scheme of things. Arthur had years to get to know Merlin, and even he wasn’t quite sure where he stood with Merlin some days.

Not that he had anything to do with this. The point was that ever since Larkin and Merlin had finally gotten the okay to return to their normal lives, Larkin had been trailing after Merlin like a lost duckling. More times than he could count, Arthur had turned to speak to either to see Larkin whispering in Merlin’s ear. Arthur had done his level best to ignore it so far, but it was hard to look away from just how flustered Merlin would become each time.

He tried not to think about it too much.

Tried being the main word.

“You’re staring again,” Lancelot told him quietly. “And frowning, quite loudly.”

Arthur did not jump out of fright, but it was a very near thing. With an embarrassed cough, Arthur stabbed at a rather stubborn pea. "I don't know what you mean."

Lancelot chuckled. "I am pleased that they seem to have set aside their differences, are you not?"

Arthur squinted at him. He had the vague feeling that he was being teased. "Yes, of course."

"They seem to be growing closer by the day, as well." Arthur scowled down at his half eaten food. He did not need reminding, thanks. "Does this not please you, My Lord?"

"Of course. I am always happy to see those around me getting along well," Arthur said through the bitterness in his throat as he caught sight of Larkin stealing bread from Merlin's plate. Merlin was skinny enough as is, and Arthur would have let Merlin take something from his plate. He did all the time, in fact. "Could be better, though," Arthur muttered under his breath.

"Pardon me? What was that?" Lancelot asked.

"Nothing," Arthur said with an innocent grin sent up to him. "Nothing at all." Which was the truth, because it was nothing and if Larkin did have a crush on Merlin then that was fine. It had nothing to do with Arthur and it was none of his business.

Larkin could have a crush on Merlin all he wanted. It wasn't a surprise, anyway. Merlin was, well - Merlin. If the rumors were true, then half the gods damned castle has had a crush on Merlin at some point. Which he also, pointedly, did not think about very often at all.

Because it was fine. And none fucking of his business.

"Is Merlin on another play date with Larkin?" Morgana asked, apropos of nothing. "I daresay they seem to be courting, at this point."

Arthur fumbled the books in his hands. Two of them went clattering to the ground. "What?" Arthur wheezed. "They - excuse me?"

This time he knew he was being teased. It was just worse because Merlin was off doing gods knew what with Larkin. Arthur had seen them both leave together after morning training.

Morgana's face was serene, as though she'd been simply commenting on the weather. "Pick up those books. You'll injure the spines."

Arthur complied, mostly because his brain was still stumbling around her words. "I - they're not courting."

"Who's to say they aren't?" Morgana asked with a perfectly sculpted eyebrow raised. "Have you asked?"

"I - well, no. But surely someone would have told me."

"And how do you think they'd bring it up? Ask for your permission like you're Merlin's father demanding they be home by curfew?"

"No! No. Gods. First, that's weird. Never say that again. But we're all - friends. I see Merlin every day! Why would they not tell me?"

Morgana made shrugging look like a regal activity, somehow. She glided through the bookshelves of the library, leading Arthur along as her glorified pack mule. "You aren't exactly very good at feelings."

"I'm perfectly fine at feelings!"

Morgana shot him a look. "Yes, because you're handling it so well now."

Arthur snapped his mouth shut, and glowered at her. Morgana plucked another book from the shelves and deposited it into the growing pile in his arms. "I'm reacting quite normally, I'll have you know."

"Sure."

Arthur cast a glance towards the books in his arms. "What even are these for, anyway?"

"Courting advice books. I figured you'd need them should you wish to woo Merlin back."

Arthur very nearly dropped the entire stack, but a glance at their titles told him that they were, in fact, simply fictional romance books. Through his ever reddening face, Arthur grumbled, "I hate you."

"Yes, get in line, dear brother."

"And I just don't know why everyone keeps pointing it out to me! It's driving me crazy. And worse still is that I've noticed that Merlin is spending a lot of time with him. Which is fine. But now it's making me question things of which I don't care to question. Merlin is allowed to spend time with people other than me. In fact, I am happy that he seems to feel so comfortable around him." More comfortable around Larkin than Arthur, these days. Which Arthur was completely okay with. No reason to be upset. He was being stupid. "This is stupid."

Gwen took all his complaining in stride. If anything, she seemed quietly amused. "If I may," she began slowly. Arthur inclined his head. "I think that perhaps a difference I have noticed between them and Merlin with others is that Larkin is quite gentle with him. Despite what their words may sometimes suggest."

Arthur frowned. "Is he?"

"Yes. They seem rather tactile."

"Wh - Gwaine is handsy as well. Are you saying he, too - ?"

"It's just an observation," Gwen said with a soft chuckle. "Morgana has mentioned it once or twice just how closely Larkin follows after Merlin. It's just what I've noticed. His touches are careful. Much unlike the other knights are with Merlin. I think some of you perhaps don't know how to be gentle."

"I can be plenty gentle!" Arthur huffed, and then froze. Gwen's smile widened. Drat. He'd been got. "Uh. Not that I. Particularly care."

Gwen looked unconvinced. "Sure, sure."

"I have to go do - something. Else. Not here," Arthur grumbled.

Her laughter followed after him. "Just a suggestion, if I may?"

Reluctantly, Arthur paused to look back at her. "What is it?"

"It does not just have to be through touch that you show someone you care. You know the things he enjoys. You know how to make his days easier on him. Why not give it a shot?"

Arthur felt his face warm. "Quit saying it like you're giving me courting advice."

Gwen raised an eyebrow. Arthur wasn't sure who learned it from whom, Morgana or Gwen first? Either way, the resemblances were sometimes uncanny. "If you were courting him, I'd say you're doing an awful job and I'm not surprised Larkin would have the upper hand. Respectfully, of course, My Lord."

Arthur needed to go scream. Or hit something with a sword. Or both. "I'm leaving. Goodbye, Gwen."

"Good day, Sir," Gwen laughed.

"You were right," Gwen told Morgana later that day. One of her favorite times of day was this - carefully brushing every tangle out of Morgana's hair. The room was quiet and filled with the smell of Gwen's favorite incense. "He's absolutely hopeless. I gave him too much credit."

Morgana barked a sharp laugh. She caught Gwen's gaze in the mirror; eyes shining. "I told you! Good on you for attempting, though. Any hopes that it'll work this time?"

"I am hopeful. He had that look on his face, you know the one. He is smarter and braver than we oft give him credit for," Gwen said. "Either way, it will be funny to see him fumbling as he tries his best."

Morgana's shoulders still shook with her quiet mirth. "Well. If anyone can get him to finally see sense, it's you."

"You flatter me, My Lady," Gwen replied. "I certainly hope to see it go well, though. They certainly deserve it."

Merlin had gotten too comfortable, and Arthur was now paying the price. He'd allowed himself the grave sin of relaxing. Larkin was not his enemy any longer, and there hadn't been wind of an assassination attempt or an enchanting or a crazed scheme for the throne in quite some time. He'd almost been having fun. Between his training with Morgana, Arthur being almost soft with him, Gwen forcefully alleviating him of some of the more problematic chores, and the knights dragging him to more and more of their 'meetings' that were shallow excuses to drink and be loud, he'd been damn near enjoying himself.

Stupid of him to forget that his life could never be that easy.

He'd realized something was wrong a moment too late.

Arthur had hissed a small curse when the edge of the decorative blade had bit into his skin. It had been a gift from one of the townsfolk, he'd explained happily. Merlin should have checked it over, but he'd been too caught up in the gentle smile Arthur had sent him. He was a fool.

As the dagger tumbled to the ground, and Arthur's body followed shortly after, Merlin made a choice. It was one he had made and would continue to make, perhaps for the rest of his life.

"I'm so sorry," Merlin whispered to Arthur's body as he cradled him to his chest. He could feel the magic burrowing under his skin; swift and hungry. "I'll fix this. I promise." With a shaking hand, he pressed a hand over Arthur’s ear and brought his head against his chest. Little help it would do to an unconscious man, but he felt the instinctive need to protect him from the sound of him screaming for the guards.

They got word about Arthur's condition within the hour. When they arrived, Arthur was pale and breathing shallow in his bed. Gaius was fretting about the room; muttering about herbs and wetting a rag to place carefully on the prince's brow. Across the huddle of people, Lancelot and Larkin locked eyes. "Where's Merlin?" Larkin mouthed.

Lancelot shook his head. He'd not seen him since they'd returned from their short walk in the lower town that morning. He'd greeted both he and Arthur happily, and had seemed excited about the pastries Arthur had given him. Lancelot had been happy to leave them to it. They deserved to enjoy the rest of their rare day off together.

It seemed that they were, once again, not that lucky.

He was doing it again.

Larkin found Merlin sneaking back into the castle late that night. Merlin jolted back and cursed at him; hand over his heart. "You scared the hell out of me!" Merlin hissed.

"It was a merchant this time, then?" Larkin asked. It had only taken a short line of questioning from Lancelot and a list of symptoms from Gaius for he and Lancelot to both put the pieces together. Larkin had wanted to follow, but Lancelot had decided they should stay back this time. They did not know what they would walk into, with it being magic related. Larkin hoped that next time he would be able to follow. He had no idea how Lancelot wasn't out of his mind with worry about the whole thing. Merlin was plenty capable, sure, but what could he do against magic?

Merlin hesitated. "How's Arthur?" He asked instead.

"He began to miraculously recover from his fever some hours ago," Larkin replied.

"Ah. That's - that's good. Good." Merlin let out a small breath before he tried to skirt around Larkin. "Best get to bed - "

"Merlin." Larkin grasped his arm. Merlin wouldn't look at him. "I could have helped."

"No, you could not." Merlin snatched his arm away and continued his march down the hallway.

Larkin called after him, "Go see him, please. He could use it."

Merlin's steps paused for just a moment before he threw a hasty wave over his shoulder. He left without another word.

While Merlin had relaxed after Arthur had woken up, Larkin could not help but noticing the quiet exhaustion that lingered under his footsteps. Larkin had tried to bring it up, urge him to rest, but Merlin would simply wave him off and say he was fine. Worse, still, was the small; devastated look Merlin would get sometimes. He was careful about it, but quite a few times now Larkin had seen him cast a bittersweet gaze toward Arthur. Merlin had been distant, as of late, and it really wasn't helping Larkin's already increased unease about the whole thing.

"Something's been bothering you," Arthur said abruptly one day.

Merlin froze in the middle of setting Arthur's plate on his table. "Sire?"

"Don't 'sire' me. You heard me." Arthur did not make a move toward touching his breakfast, and instead watched Merlin like a hawk.

"I don't know what you mean, is all. I'm fine." Merlin mechanically went about tidying up Arthur's room. He felt his gaze on him the entire time; tracking him like he does a fox in the brush.

"Did you get into an argument with Larkin?" Arthur asked in a careful voice.

Merlin paused, and sent him a confused look. "Larkin? No, why?"

"Oh. Ah, I just - you two have been quite close recently, so I assumed it might have something to do with him."

Merlin rolled his eyes. "Larkin is a pain in my ass, is what he is. No, we haven't gotten in a fight." At Arthur's contemplating silence, Merlin sent him a questioning look. "What?"

"Nothing. I just, uh. Have heard some things."

It was quite unusual for Merlin to feel dread in a way that wasn't life threatening, but here he was. Merlin let the pillow he was fixing on Arthur's bed fall back down. "What sorts of things?"

For some reason, Arthur seemed rather nervous. "Oh, silly things, I'm sure. Just that, uh. You and Larkin are… involved."

"Involved?" Merlin exclaimed, rather mortified.

"Yes, so, well - I thought if you were sad, something might have happened - "

"You believed them?"

"What was I supposed to believe instead?" Arthur shot back. It only helped that he seemed just as embarrassed about the conversation as Merlin did. "You two have been joined at the hip recently and you're always - whispering and giggling together!"

"What? We do not whisper and giggle!"

Arthur threw his hands up in the air. "By the gods, Merlin, do you think I'm blind? I've seen it with my own eyes. It's fine if you are - do you think you couldn't tell me if so?"

Genuinely, what was his life? What had he done to deserve such a painful conversation? "Oh, so I have to tell you everything in my life, is that it?"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Please. Don't be so defensive."

"Me? I'm not the one throwing a tantrum because I thought I wasn't told something that is none of my business!"

"I am not throwing a tantrum - "

"We are a not courting. We have never been courting. Nor do I want to," Merlin interrupted him before they could stray too far away.

Arthur quieted. "Either way, surely you see how he - "

"It is not me that Larkin has the crush on, I assure you," Merlin said with a loud eye roll. "He harps about his crush to me for so long I can barely look at him without hearing Larkin twittering away in my mind about how flowing his hair is or how perfect his complexion is or whatever."

"Him?" Arthur asked.

Merlin narrowed his eyes. "Yes. Is that a problem?"

"No! No, not at all. And if you, uh. Were also. That would. Also not be a problem."

"I know it wouldn't be," Merlin said; challenge in his voice.

They stared at each other for a long moment before Arthur crumpled back into his seat. "This is awful. I hate everything that just happened."

Merlin snorted. "You brought it up."

"I know! It was bothering me, okay! You've been very, ah, preoccupied with him lately. And everyone's been chirping about it, too." Arthur rubbed at his face. "Then suddenly I see less of you around him and you're doing an awful job of hiding that you're upset about something. What else was I supposed to think?"

Merlin pursed his lips. "I'm not upset."

Arthur shot him a bland look. "Come now, Merlin. I know you well enough by now."

Merlin went back to tidying the bed. "I'm fine."

"Merlin. You can tell me things. You do know that, right?"

Arthur looked a bit sad, when Merlin glanced at him. With a great sigh, Merlin nodded. "Yes. Sorry. I just am tired, of recent. The last few weeks were - a lot."

Arthur did not seem wholly convinced, but he nodded anyway. "If you ever want to, I am happy to listen."

"Thank you," Merlin replied softly. Arthur hummed.

For a blissful few minutes, it was quiet but for the soft sound of blankets being arranged and utensils clinking. "So you really aren't with Larkin?"

Merlin groaned. Not again. "No, I am not."

"Good," Arthur replied. "You can do better than that."

Merlin blinked over at him. Arthur stared back at him, as if he expected - what? It was almost like he was daring Merlin to say something. He just wasn't sure what. Nervously, Merlin let out a huff of laughter. "Finally, something we agree on. He annoys me to no end."

A smirk tugged at Arthur's lips, and he turned back to his food. "Perhaps you two are a good match, then. Two of the most vexatious people I know."

Merlin gasped as dramatically as he could. "Sire! Who taught you such a large word? I'm so proud - ack!" Merlin dodged the orange thrown at his head, but only just.

"I think I accidentally outed you to Arthur," Merlin said with a grimace. "I'm sorry. I thought he knew, because he was convinced we were dating, but I wanted to apologize anyway. In my defense, he was being a colossal prick."

By the end of Merlin recounting their conversation, Larkin was laughing so hard he nearly fell out of his chair.

The plan was, miraculously, sort of working! He had to tell the others.

When the call for aid came from a noble house in the west, Larkin was not originally supposed to go. However, he found himself yet again standing in front of Leon. Larkin hadn't even planned on trying to worm his way in, but one look at the dark circles under Merlin's eyes that morning had him moving before he realized.

Leon, thankfully, didn't need much convincing. "I am worried about him as well," Leon agreed. "Alright, then. Get your pack ready."

Relief coursed through him. "Thank you. I swear, this time I mean it."

Leon's eyes softened. He clasped his shoulder, and gave it a squeeze. "I believe you."

Larkin had a pep in his step for the rest of the day. This time, it would be different. He'd make sure of it.

It was different, this time. Just not in the way he'd anticipated.

Sometimes, Larkin thought that Merlin wasn't quite human.

A silly thought, but one that dug into the depths of his skull nonetheless. It felt especially true now - Merlin, uncannily still; standing over a body.

"Merlin," Larkin called out softly.

For a moment - just a moment - Larkin could have sworn he saw a flash of gold in his eyes as he spun around to face him.

Instead of fear, or trepidation, or anger, there was nothing. His entire person was carefully blank. "Larkin."

"It's cold out tonight," Larkin replied. Did not let his eyes drift back toward the body at his feet. "We should get back to camp before others notice."

"You're starting a bad habit," Merlin told him lowly. "I cannot guarantee I could protect you again if you keep following me."

From almost anyone else, Larkin would have scoffed. He was a knight of Camelot - he and his brothers were the best of the best. They did not need protection.

However.

Larkin had long since thought of just how exactly it was that Merlin dealt with any opposition. How did he slip poison into goblets in a busy room? Overpower men twice his size? How was he always exactly where he needed to be?

There were only a few answers to this. Some more easily accepted than others.

Standing in a too-silent forest with a too-still Merlin, Larkin could only grasp at one answer. Even the moon seemed to be holding its breath as it hid behind a slow crawling cloud like a child scared of the dark.

He did not want it to be true. If it was, then - well. He did not know how he would respond. Merlin had swiftly become a close friend despite it all. If it were true, then how could he protect him?

"I told you I would be happy to help," Larkin said instead of commenting on the blood on Merlin's sleeve.

"I have been doing this for longer than you have been a proper knight," Merlin said. "It's not safe."

"And you are? Out here all alone in the woods? Even without whatever enemy you're chasing after, have you not heard of bears? Coyotes?"

Merlin tilted his head. His fingers twitched ever so slightly. The moon did not dare cast her light on him even as it peeked out to settle its trepidatious gaze on Larkin. He felt exposed between the sudden light shining down on him and the pinning of Merlin's attention. "Out of everyone within these woods right now," Merlin began in a voice slow and careful as the shadows that crept across his face. Somewhere in the back of Larkin's mind, he realized that not even the wind was blowing anymore. "I am not the one in the most danger."

Larkin did not know what to say to that. Some primal part of him knew it to be true. Hummed a danger sense into his ears - had been humming the entire time he followed Merlin. He'd just been unaware of what it was saying was the predator.

Just like the enemies before them, Larkin had made the grave mistake of underestimating Merlin. "The others will be worried. Let's go back," Larkin tried again. "Arthur will be beside himself if he wakes and you're gone."

Merlin closed his eyes, and looked away.

Somewhere, distant, a cricket chirped. The wind rustled through the leaves, quiet and careful. The moon tossed aside her blanket and stretched across them both. When Merlin opened his eyes, he was him again. "Yeah," Merlin said; voice tired and shoulders slumped. "Yeah. Okay."

Larkin had been wrong, again. Back when he first noticed all of this. He thought it was all an act - Merlin, meek and stumbling one and then sharp and imposing the next. But it really was all him. He'd seen it with his own eyes. Arthur was right to keep him so close. What a marvel he was, indeed.

"I think Larkin knows," Merlin whispered. His voice was a broken, scared thing.

Lancelot shifted closer to him. Pressed his shoulder into his. "Are you sure?" Lancelot asked; voice pitched low to join him. They were alone in the room Lancelot and Percival shared in the inn, but still he found himself glancing toward the firmly shut door.

"He saw me deal with - with someone. Or found me there after. I don't know. You should have seen his face. I can just tell. Everyone - they always get this look when they find out." Merlin sighed and rubbed at his eyes roughly enough that Lancelot tugged his hands away.

"Easy. Don't hurt yourself."

Merlin squirmed out of his hold, but leaned heavily against him still. His hands wrung together in white knuckled desperation. "I don't know what to do. He didn't say anything. Just asked me to come back. But since the beginning he didn't trust me. What if he - what if he tells Arthur?"

"We'll deal with it, if so," Lancelot replied. Leaned down to catch his eye. "Merlin. Listen to me. Whatever happens, I will be by your side. I will talk to him."

"I don't know, Lancelot. I don't want to make it worse," Merlin said.

"If we do not figure things out now, then we will have more surprises down the road. I will be careful with my words, and make sure to speak to him alone. If it does not go well, then we come up with a plan and deal with it. Just like we always do."

Merlin sighed again before he finally relented. "Okay. Just - be careful."

"I will." Lancelot gathered him up in a firm hug. Chin propped on top of Merlin's head where he hid his face in his shoulder, he said, "Why don't you get to bed early tonight? I'll tell Arthur you're not feeling well so they leave you be, and I'll bring you up some dinner."

"Thanks," Merlin mumbled. "Sorry. I swear I'll be more useful tomorrow."

"No, no need to apologize. You are plenty useful. And even if you weren't, you would still have value to me. You are my best friend, are you not?"

Softly, Merlin shook in his hold. "Yeah," he croaked. "Thanks."

"Anytime," Lancelot hummed. He did not mind the way Merlin clung to his shirt so tightly he felt his fingernails through the cotton. If anything, it made him curl around him further. "You are a good man, Merlin."

"Are you trying to make me cry?" Merlin asked with a soft; wet laugh.

Lancelot turned his smile to press it against Merlin's temple. "Of course not. I am simply speaking the truth."

For once, Merlin did not have the energy to argue.

The moment Lancelot caught Larkin's gaze, he knew he was in trouble. For what, he had no idea, but even though Lancelot was smiling he felt a dawning sense of anxiety the closer he got to him. "Larkin. A word, if I may?" Lancelot asked.

"What'd you do this time?" Elyan asked with a small laugh.

"Nothing!" Larkin replied through his hammering heart.

"Doubtful," Percival said.

Lancelot laughed. "Please. I just have something personal to ask him. If he was in trouble, you'd know."

What a liar. Larkin felt like he was going to his own execution as he got up and started to follow him out of the bustling tavern. All he'd wanted to do was get drunk enough to try to forget what he'd seen the night before. Was that too much to ask? "Don't let Gwaine drink all my ale!" Larkin barked a bit too late, for by the time he'd thought to turn around with the warning, Gwaine already had his mug in his hand. "Gwaine!"

"You won't be needing this if you're dead by morn, Larkin," Gwaine cooed. "I'll make sure to enjoy two more in your honor."

"If I die, I'm haunting you first!" Larkin hissed before turning and hurrying after Lancelot's retreating back. The autumn air was frigid against the warmth of his skin. He shivered, and followed after Lancelot as they took a path behind the tavern. There was a dark alley, thin and claustrophobic, between the tavern and the inn beside it. The dread only mounted as Lancelot brought them to the very end of the alleyway and stopped. "Um. I'm not actually going to die, am I?"

Lancelot chuckled. His smile did not reach his eyes. "No, my friend. This is just the best place in the area for a private conversation."

"About what, exactly?"

Lancelot cast his gaze around before he rest his back against the wall and crossed his arms. "I've some concerns about a mutual friend."

Larkin felt himself pale. Only one name came to mind. "About whom, exactly?"

"Merlin," Lancelot said. His face was impossible to read, especially in the quiet night around them. "I felt something was amiss last night, so I set to following him when he slipped away. I saw some… concerning things."

Shit. Fuck. He had not been prepared for this. He was so certain when he left that no one had noticed. How had Lancelot not only seen, but followed them? He hadn't even really figured out what he wanted to do about the likely fact that Merlin had magic. How was he to deal with Lancelot, too? "Concerning how?"

"I hesitate to say it aloud. I know that you saw, too." Lancelot sighed, and rubbed at his face. "It does not gladden me to say this, but I need to remind you that our priorities are and will always be the people of Camelot."

Panic and anger raced down his spine. He straightened, and did his best to speak with a level tone, "Is Merlin not a citizen of Camelot?"

"You know the laws as well as I do," Lancelot replied. Slowly, his hand drifted towards the hilt of his sword.

Larkin had no chance against him, he knew that. But if he was the only person to stand between Merlin and a sword, then - there was no question. Larkin, too, rest his hand on his hilt. "And you know Merlin even better than I. I was under the impression that you were close friends, but if this is all it takes to sever that relationship then perhaps it was not as strong as I believed."

Lancelot pushed himself off the wall. Larkin shifted his foot back, and prepared for a fight. "He is my best friend," Lancelot agreed. "But what do you think I could do in the face of treason? What would you do?"

Well. Larkin had had many months now to deal with that very thought. Sure, not in the way that it was presenting itself now, but still. Larkin was not a perfect man, but he was at least a good friend. In a strange way, he was thankful to Lancelot for this. In the face of potential backlash from someone else, Larkin knew where he stood. "Talk to him about it. See him as a person, not as a criminal. I am a knight, yes. I have my oaths. But I know how to do the right thing. Sometimes, the right thing is not the one written on a scroll. Do not do this, Lancelot. I do not wish to fight you."

Lancelot quirked an eyebrow. Stepped a bit closer. Larkin held his ground, chin raised. "You would stop me, then? He should be arrested."

"He should live his life without being in fear every day for who he is," Larkin hissed. "I know what that's like. I wouldn't wish that on anyone else. I will stop you, if you don't see reason."

Abruptly, Lancelot relaxed. His hand dropped from his sword, and a brilliant grin lit up his face. Larkin was so bewildered at the sudden change that he thought he'd imagined it out of sheer panic. "I am proud of you, Larkin."

"Um? You are?" Larkin squeaked.

"You are right, on all accounts. Merlin is more than that which makes him different from others. I was, ah, concerned when I realized that you may know something about it. I wanted to make sure you would not be a danger to Merlin."

Larkin searched his face, and found only truth. With a great sigh, Larkin relaxed and slumped against the wall; hand over his heart. "Fucking hells, Lancelot! Do you have any idea how terrifying that was?"

Lancelot, the bastard, laughed. "I apologize."

"Do it genuinely, you prat."

Amusement danced in his eyes. "So you truly do not care about it? Merlin was rather understandably upset."

Ah. Hell. "No - I… no. I thought I might, but then you seemed like you were ready to throw him to the wolves for it and I couldn't stomach it. He doesn't deserve that."

With a nod, Lancelot clasped his shoulder and pulled him up straight. "Right you are. I do not have to tell you to keep it quiet, do I?" Larkin shook his head. "Good. I will let Merlin know the good news. I must say, I'm a bit relieved someone else knows. I worry about him terribly. It will be good to have two sets of eyes on him to help where we can."

Unbidden, the scene from before arose in his mind. Merlin, standing still as the trees around him, air around them buzzing with the potency. Eyes golden and frigid. "I don't know if he much needs our help."

Lancelot hummed. Slung an arm around him to steer him back towards the tavern. "Perhaps not always, but there are times where we can do what he cannot. He's awful at asking for help, as I'm sure you've realized."

At that, Larkin snorted. "An understatement."

"I worry that one day it will come back to bite him," Lancelot admitted; voice suddenly somber. "He tries to shoulder so much burden, but no one man can do what he does alone. He's been tired, recently. Haven't you seen it?"

Larkin had seen it. Anytime he'd ask about it, he'd simply get brushed off. "Yes. I too am concerned."

"There we have it, then. Let's get Gwaine to buy you a drink for the one he's surely drained by now. A toast to an unlikely alliance, hm?"

"Respectfully, I ask that you buy me one as well for the fright."

Lancelot's laugh was soft and comforting in his ear. "I suppose that's fair."

Larkin had hoped that now that Merlin's magic was an open secret between them that he'd finally let Larkin help him for once, but he was a fool to even hope. Merlin had gotten more tense the closer to the noble's manor they got. Any attempt at prying the truth from him only made Merlin clam up even more. Lancelot, too, had seemed at a loss and had been only able to offer Larkin a one shouldered shrug.

"Give him some time," Lancelot had said as they were dismounting their horses. The manor's yard was sprawling and pristine. It made Larkin's skin crawl from how similar it looked in certain ways to his childhood home. "Your knowing is as new for him as it is for you."

He hated that Lancelot was right. He just couldn't shake the feeling of dawning danger that slithered up his shoulders. Maybe it was just Merlin's anxiety feeding into his, but he'd seen the ancient creature Merlin had been in the woods. If something made even him nervous, then shouldn't they all be?

The note that Merlin had found on the sorcerer that had been following them on their trip to the noble's manor was idiotic at best and incriminating at worst. He, however, could not figure out a way to bring it up. The only way he could have both noticed the sorcerer and read the note itself was with magic. He'd had to brush aside a simple concealing spell to read it. Just the thought of Larkin now knowing was enough to nauseate him. The idea of Arthur finding out nearly sent him into a blind panic. No, he had to figure out a way to flush out the enemy and their plan without giving himself away.

So, business as usual, really.

There was just something that felt off about it all. He couldn't figure out what, but it seemed too cut and dry. Too simple. He'd heard word of the Darrow family before. They were apparently notorious for their underhanded methods of gaining whatever they wanted - land or title; money or fame.

Their son, Keir, had actually visited Camelot and the castle some months prior. Merlin hadn't thought much of it - the man had been practically pleasant to both Merlin and Arthur, and had even seemed interested in Merlin's duties for the prince.

Now, Merlin thought back on the visit with a suspicious lens. Just what would he have gained from that information? He did not remember anything else from Keir's visit, and it was bothering him.

The note itself felt like something of a trap. All it had said was, Make them squirm. The Darrow house will get what they want.

Merlin had dealt with many a number of ne'er-do-wells in his time by Arthur's side, and very little of them were moronic enough to put their family name on such a missive.

The Darrows personally met them at the entrance to welcome them in. They were, outwardly, kind and helpful. The head of the family, Lord Wallace, was the perfect host. His wife, Lady Rory, spoke gently to the servants and smiled freely. Keir was there as well, and greeted them as if they were old friends. He took a moment to shake Merlin's hand, and said happily, "So wonderful to see you again, my friend. We are honored to have you all here."

It felt like stepping into a lion's den. But he managed a smile, a friendly greeting back, and hoped his hands did not shake too much when he tucked it behind his back out of view.

"What, exactly, is going on? Your letter mentioned some concerning activity in not only your home but others around?" Arthur asked.

"Yes, grave news, I'm afraid," Wallace said; wrinkled face set into a deep grimace. "As mentioned, quite a few of my servants have fallen ill, and it does not seem like something any doctor around can assist with. The symptoms are worrying, to say the least, and we are hoping Your Highness may be able to lend a hand."

Wallace ushered them further into the grandiose home. The ceilings were high and the hallways were barren of decorations. It felt less like a home and more like an attempt at evoking the feeling the castle gave. Cold and impenetrable. The torches along the walls made their shadows stretch long behind them. "Pardon me, but I am not sure what we can accomplish that a healer cannot," Arthur said.

It was Rory who spoke this time, her red mouth down turned. "It is no normal sickness, Your Highness. We fear it is the work of a rogue sorcerer."

"Oh?"

Merlin had a very, very bad feeling about this.

Keir said, "Yes. We've an idea of who it may be, as well. He has a grudge against us and the village near here. We banished him after he set some homes on fire." Keir shook his head. "I am sorry to say that it was my own soft heartedness that asked my father to stay his hand from execution, and our people are paying the price for it, now."

"No, my dear, you did what you thought was best at the time," Rory told him gently; hand on his back rubbing soothing circles. "I am proud of you for it."

Wallace grunted. "Your mother is right, Keir. No one faults you for the actions of a mad man." To Arthur, he inclined his head. "My apologies. You all must be exhausted. Your rooms are right down this hall. Once you've had a chance to rest, please join us for dinner. It would be our honor."

"Of course. Thank you."

They gave Merlin his own room. Not a bed in the servant's quarters. Not a room on a different level. They gave him a room on the same level as the family and the others.

He was not sure why, but that in and of itself was what unsettled him the most.

"It's fine," Merlin mumbled to himself as he perched carefully on the edge of the opulent bed. They'd given him a room furthest from Arthur. That, too, felt wrong. Deliberate. He was the farthest away from everyone, in fact. At the very end of the hall. They'd claimed the other rooms between them were being renovated. That they wanted to give Merlin's trusted manservant the best they could offer, as well. Arthur had looked quietly pleased at the words, but all Merlin had felt was the tightening of a noose.

They paid too much attention to him. They knew something. Or thought they knew something. But what, he could not say.

"The sorcerer's name is Graeme," Wallace explained as they ate dessert.

They'd given Merlin a spot at the table. Hadn't even asked. Just assumed he would be sitting there. That, too, had pleased Arthur. Merlin, on the other hand, still felt nothing but disquiet. "What all do you know of him?" Arthur asked.

"Not much, I fear to say. We know that he is quite adept at enchantments. Much like the ones keeping my servants under an unending sleep."

"What exactly is the correlation between the victims, might I ask?" Lancelot spoke.

"That we have not been able to figure out. Some of the ones in the village proper are not even servants, but bakers. Farmers. Seamstresses." Wallace sighed heavily, and rubbed at his temple. "I apologize that we cannot be of more assistance, Your Highness. We have very little information to go off of."

"It's quite alright. We can go into town tomorrow and ask around, as well. May we see the victims? Merlin is also a physician's apprentice. He may be able to give us some insight."

Usually, Merlin would preen at the admittance from Arthur that he might be helpful. This time, however, he fought from shrinking back in his chair.

"Oh, that would be wonderful," Keir said; smile bright. "I am in awe of the company you keep, Your Highness. I knew not even your servant was a man of such capabilities. If Your Highness would not mind, I would be happy to show you to them after we finish here."

Arthur was looking at him expectantly. Merlin managed a steady, "Of course, My Lord. I would be happy to assist."

Arthur nodded. "Very well. We have a plan, small though it is. Men, get ready by first light. We'll get an early start."

Keir lead Merlin and Arthur to the sick room personally. He kept up friendly chatter with Arthur, and even tried to include Merlin in it as well. Merlin was only able to stutter out a few sentences here and there, but Keir hardly seemed to notice. By the time they made it to the door, Merlin was exhausted. "Here they are. Do not worry about the level of your voice. They have not woken despite everything we've tried."

The sick rooms were just as barren as the rest of the home. Eight cots lined the sides of the room, and four of them were occupied. Merlin walked among them carefully; taking stock of their complexion and the temperature of their skin. Two were young women, who seemed healthy otherwise. There was an older gentleman, knuckles large from arthritis, and an older woman with old burns on her arms that told him she was likely a cook. Their vitals were completely normal.

What was not normal, however, was the magic clinging to them. Merlin did not want to chance peering at it closer with the other two around, so he could not hope to tell what exactly it was. "How long have they been like this?" Merlin asked quietly.

"About a fortnight, now," Keir answered.

"Well?" Arthur asked.

Merlin frowned and shook his head. "I am afraid that I cannot glean much, either. They seem perfectly healthy. If they have been stable for that long, then I am not afraid for their health, per say. I've never heard of magic that can keep someone in a sort of stasis like this." That was a lie, of course, but he looked to Keir regardless.

Keir gave him a soft smile. "Neither have I, unfortunately. We, too, were shocked that they don't seem to be getting any worse. We feed them broth and water as much as we can, but they do not seem to grow dirty, nor does their complexion wane. It is as if they have been frozen in time."

"Did you happen to know this sorcerer, My Lord?" Merlin asked carefully. "You said you asked he be spared."

Keir sighed. "Ah. Yes. We were old friends, in fact. Foolish of me to think that friendship would matter to a man such as him, but I could not help myself. When I looked at him, I could not ignore all that we had been through together." It made sense, at face value. Merlin was still not convinced. Keir sent Arthur and Merlin a smile in equal measure. "That is something I think, if I may be so bold, you two would understand, no? Your fast friendship is known widely. I find myself comforted at the thought of our prince being so kind that he holds his servants at equal regard as his knights."

Alarm bells rang shrill in Merlin's head even as Arthur coughed; looking embarrassed. "Ah. Yes, well. Merlin has proven himself a loyal friend, you are correct," Arthur said. Despite himself, Merlin couldn't help but send him a quiet smile. Arthur looked away quickly; face red. "Alright, well. If there is no further information we can get out of them tonight, we'd best go to bed. We have an early morning."

"Of course, Sir," Keir replied. "Please, allow me to show you to your rooms."

They made it to Arthur's rooms first, of course. That left an entire hallway's walk alone with Keir. Merlin could hear his heart thundering in his ears the entire time, but Keir remained friendly and polite. "Thank you for taking time for a mere servant," Merlin said stiffly, and gave him a bow once they'd reached his door. "I am humbled by your kindness, My Lord."

Keir smiled brightly. "Please. No thanks necessary. I must admit I am quite fascinated by you, Merlin."

Merlin gave him a confused smile. Hid his sweating hands behind his back. "Oh? I cannot imagine what. I am a simple servant."

"I think that's where you're wrong, my friend. I mean, what other servant could stand by our prince's side so easily? When I first made my way to Camelot, I was awe struck by the ease with which you spoke with him, as well. 'Wow,' I thought, 'a simple servant, speaking to the prince as though he were an equal? So bold!'. And then the more time I spent with you all I couldn't help but realize that there was something truly special between you two." Keir's smile fell short of warmth, all of a sudden. Merlin nearly shrank away from the weight of his gaze, accusing even through his bright words, "I almost thought for a moment that you'd enchanted him!" He laughed; voice hollow. "By the time I left to return home, I was certain that I would find no bond that could compare in all the land."

Ah.

Fuck.

It was only years and years of life or death situations that kept Merlin's face impassive; his words calm. "I thank you for such kind words. Your family's generosity and warmth are known well through the surrounding lands, and for good reason."

Keir's eyes tightened. The smile remained in place. "Ah, yes. I've heard of what others have to say about our family. It is humbling, to say the least."

"And true. Now, if you excuse me, My Lord, I'd hate to keep you any longer."

"Ah, yes! Of course. Sleep well, Merlin. Please, call if you need anything at all."

What Merlin needed was to get the hell out of there. Instead, he parroted back the pleasantries, and escaped into his room. For good measure, he locked the door. Not that he had any misgivings that that would do anything.

He listened to Keir's retreating steps, and only when he could no longer hear them did he allow himself a small; quiet panic attack.

He'd been wrong. This manor was not a lion's den. It was the maw itself.

Chapter Text

Merlin somehow looked worse the next morning than he had the previous two weeks combined. "Are you sure you don't want to stay and rest, Merlin?" Arthur asked with a frown. His concern seemed to win out of his usual bravado. "We will just be speaking to locals today, nothing to miss out on."

"I - no. I want to go with you. Please."

Arthur watched him carefully. The look Merlin was giving him was nearly desperate. With a short glance around them to make sure no one was in earshot, he leaned forward to murmur, "Are you uncomfortable here?"

Merlin gave a soft, anxious laugh. "Um. Perhaps a bit."

"Has anyone made you uncomfortable?" Arthur prodded.

Merlin's eyes widened. "Oh - um. No. I just… I'm just being silly, I suppose. And anyway, who would make sure you don't fall off your horse and break a leg, or something?"

So, not talking about it, then. With a sigh, Arthur leaned away. "Fine. One day you'll tell me the truth when something bothers you, I hope."

Guilt sat heavy on Merlin's face, but even then all he could do was meekly say, "Thank you, Your Highness."

And that was how Arthur knew something was really wrong.

Their time at town was uneventful, and achingly long. Merlin had been unable to rest well after his encounter with Keir the night before, and he was suffering for it. The sun made him grimace in pain and he couldn’t help but yawn every few minutes. To make it worse, Larkin had zeroed in on him almost immediately and if it was not Arthur casting worried glances his way, then it was Larkin.

Nosy bastard.

Despite all this, Merlin made sure to carefully check over each victim they were able to see first hand. Everyone’s stories were the same - one night, a few weeks prior, the victims fell into an unending slumber and did not wake. There were no sightings of Graeme of recent, and that in and of itself made Merlin suspicious. That level of enchantment would take a considerable amount of power to pull off without seeing or contacting the victims. Still, though, he could not get close enough to try and peel back the magic himself.

By the end of the day, they only had one new piece of information: the townsfolk who were affected all went to the same tavern at some point.

When they questioned the owner, they learned that his daughter was also a victim. “I can’t think of anything out of the ordinary,” he was saying; hands fiddling with the rag in his hands. “I’ve been trying to wrack my brain this whole time, and nothing stands out. I don’t know why it was my tavern, or my girl. But - please. Whatever you need of me, I will do it. Just please help my daughter.”

The mood was somber by the time they left. Merlin was so caught up in trying to piece together the how’s and the why’s that he didn’t realize they’d made it back to the manor until he’d heard Keir’s voice greeting them. It was like a bucket of ice water thrown on him, and he was suddenly wide awake.

“You alright?” Larkin asked, for the third or fifth time that day. Merlin only managed a jerking nod. “Talk after dinner?”

“Sure,” Merlin replied.

Larkin, at least, relaxed a little at that. One of them had to be, he supposed. It certainly wasn’t going to be Merlin anytime soon.

Dinner was boring as usual. More politics and ass kissing. Larkin was the first person to make it to Merlin’s room after they were done with dinner, and he tried not to pace about as he waited.

When he heard footsteps, he spun around. “Merlin! There you are, I’ve been waiting - oh.” It was not Merlin, but the son of the house standing before him with a smile. “My Lord. My apologies. How may I help you?”

“Please, it’s quite alright.” Keir’s smile only unsettled him further. This whole house reminded him too much of his family. All smiles and sweet words in front of others but the moment it was just you and them, they'd tear you to pieces. They'd not yet shown him that they were the same, but their placid smiles set him on edge. He didn’t like it, or them. “I, too, was in search of Merlin.”

“Oh? What can he help you with? I mean to say, may I assist you in his stead?” Larkin asked. The last thing he wanted was Merlin surrounded by possible vultures.

“I’m afraid not. I simply had some questions for him regarding his time as a physician’s apprentice. I am hoping to learn all that we can about the victims.”

“Ah, I see. I can bring him to the sick rooms when I find him, if you’d like,” Larkin offered.

“No, it’s alright. It is quite late, regardless. My wish to see them better has gotten the best of my manners, it seems. I’ll simply ask him in the morning. I bid you a goodnight.”

“And you as well, My Lord,” Larkin said, and sent him a short bow. He watched Keir as he left; pace leisurely.

There was something off about that whole family, but he couldn’t tell if it was just his own trauma or a genuine concern.

It took Merlin a while longer still to make it back to his room, and when he did he only seemed more tired than before. “There you are. What happened? Dinner ended a while ago.”

“Ah. Yes. Sorry, I just had to check some things,” Merlin replied before he ushered them inside his room.

Larkin tracked the way he locked his door, and double checked the lock after that. “You’re nervous. What’s going on?”

Merlin grimaced and crept closer. Voice low, he admitted, “I don’t know. Something isn’t adding up here. I think they’re after something. Most likely Arthur, but something isn’t clicking.”

“I knew they gave me atrocious feelings for a reason. What exactly doesn’t feel right?”

Merlin sighed. “I don’t know. I can’t put a finger on it specifically, but they’re showing too much attention to me. Like they either want to prove a point, or they’re using it for something else. I can’t figure it out, but whatever it is can’t be good.” Merlin glanced around the room again before he leaned close and whispered, “Keir thinks I have magic, I think. He all but accused me last night, in that stupid fancy way rich people always do.”

Larkin didn't even have time to feel vindicated about his correct instincts through the lance of unease that shot through him. “Oh. Shit. That’s not good.”

“Yeah, definitely not,” Merlin snorted. “I‘ve been trying to find out exactly what they’re trying to accomplish and why I have anything to do with it, but nothing adds up yet. I mean, what do the victims have to do with it? Just a means to get Arthur here?”

“It’s possible,” Larkin agreed. “Either way, you need to be careful, Merlin. Perhaps you should sleep in my room - “

“No. No, I don’t want to arouse any suspicions. If we’re to catch them, then we need them to think that we aren’t onto them. People mess up the most when they're confident.”

Larkin frowned. “I don’t know, Merlin…”

“Have you been the one doing this for years?” Merlin snapped. “Trust me, I know how these people work.”

Larkin raised his hands. “Okay, okay. I get it. I just want you to be safe.”

With a great sigh, Merlin rubbed at his eyes. “No, I’m sorry. I didn’t get great sleep last night. I’m very… I don’t like it here.”

“Neither do I,” Larkin said with a grimace. “They’re painfully shallow, hm? Like, if you’re going to lie to my face at least be sneaky about it.”

Merlin laughed quietly. “Right? Pitiful, is what it is. Anyway, I just want to keep things as quiet as is for now.”

“Okay… but I can’t help but feel there’s more to this, Merlin. I know people like them. They’re the worst of the worst.”

“Believe me, I am well acquainted with their types,” Merlin grumbled.

“Just - for once, if you think things are getting bad, please call for someone. It doesn’t have to be me, but I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Merlin softened. “Yes. Alright. I’ll try.”

Larkin gave him a friendly smack on the arm. “That is all I can ask of you, you stubborn mule.”

Merlin was doing a better job the next morning hiding how jumpy he was, but Larkin had gotten very good at reading him like a book.

He tried again to gently prod Merlin for more information, but it was a fruitless endeavor.

“I think I’ve gotten something,” Merlin whispered to him as the others readied their horses. Merlin had asked to stay behind to ‘catch up on sleep’ this time, and Larkin had nearly stumbled with the force of his bewilderment. Arthur, however, had looked content that Merlin had finally admitted he wasn't doing well and was quick to allow him to stay. “I just need to look into it a bit more.”

“You just told me you think they have it out for you,” Larkin hissed. “What in the hells do you think you’re doing? You’re practically putting your neck on a chopping block for them.”

Merlin glared at him. The effect was not as good as he thought it was, with how deep the bags under his eyes were. “I’ll be fine. You of all people should know how capable I am.”

“Yes, but you’re not invincible. Gods, Merlin, do you have to do things in the most dangerous ways possible?”

Merlin turned his nose up at him. “It’s often the way that gets results. I’ve made my choice, and no - you can’t stay. It’ll make my job harder.”

Larkin glowered. Merlin glowered back. They were at a standstill for a long moment before Arthur called for Larkin. Larkin poked at Merlin’s chest. “Don’t think I won’t beat your ass personally if I get back and you’re dead in a ditch or something.”

Merlin rolled his eyes. “Please. I’m harder to kill than anyone I know.”

“That is not the brag you think it is, Merlin.”

“Goodbye, Larkin,” Merlin said, and gave him a push toward the others. “I’ll see you when you return.”

“You’d better!” Larkin retorted, and finally hurried after everyone. Even as he glanced back at Merlin’s smile, he could not help but think he was making a grave mistake.

The village gave them little to no clues yet again that day. They were all beginning to get frustrated, at this point. Arthur and Percival had gone over the many ways to track down a sorcerer together, but with so little information there was only so much they could do.

By the time they were back at the manor, they were tired and grumpy. Larkin wanted nothing more than to take a nap, but he'd not seen hide or hair of Merlin since they'd gotten back and he was getting more antsy each minute that passed. Usually, Merlin would be dogging Arthur's heels the moment they were back. Arthur seemed to have the same thought, as he frowned and said, "Maybe he's still asleep."

Larkin hoped that was the truth, but when he knocked on Merlin's door a while later, he received no response. With no other ideas, he went up to the fourth floor in hopes that he had perhaps decided to check on the victims again.

The top floor was silent, and the sick room somehow even more so. There was no one else there save for the victims. Their breathing was so subtle he kept mistaking them for corpses out the corner of his eye. He left the room quickly.

Merlin was not on the third floor either. By the time he was done walking through the second floor, the dread had made its way up his throat. Something was wrong.

He met Keir on the first floor hallway. “Ah. My Lord. We meet again.”

Keir smiled. “It seems we have a habit of running into each other. Do you need anything?”

“Ah. Have you happened to have seen Merlin? I have been searching for him for quite some time, in fact. Prince Arthur requires his presence.”

He saw it.

A flash of something in Keir’s eyes. Too quick to pinpoint a name for it, but it was a reaction nonetheless. Larkin had to bite his tongue from saying something. “I am afraid not. I actually just called for him at his bedroom, hoping to ask him some questions about what we’d spoken about this morning. He did not answer.”

“May I ask what you spoke about together, My Lord?” Larkin asked.

“Ah, more the same. I asked him if he knew what sort of spell may be responsible for sleeping for so long. I thought perhaps his time as a physician’s apprentice may have shown him things I am not privy to.”

Larkin smiled mirthlessly. “Ah, yes. Camelot does have some strange happenings, does it not?”

“Indeed. So you have had no luck, either?”

Larkin shook his head. “No, My Lord. I find myself growing concerned for him.”

“Hm. And I, too. He had mentioned going to the surrounding woods to fetch some herbs he wanted to try for the servants, but I have not seen him since he left. I hope he is not lost,” Keir said with a frown.

Bullshit.

“Perhaps he is simply taking a nap, and did not hear your summons. He did say he has been tired of late. I will go try to gain his attention, and if I do not get him, then I would be happy to begin a search.” Larkin replied. Met Keir’s gaze with his own. “After all, he is quite dear to the prince. He would be quite displeased should something happen to him.”

“All the more reason to be swift about our search, then,” Keir said easily.

“Yes, exactly. If you will excuse me.” Larkin bowed, and promptly turned heel towards Merlin’s chambers.

He did not answer, of course.

The door was locked, but the one thing about growing up in a house ready to eat you alive was that you got really good at escaping places. The door's lock was not difficult to pick.

“Merlin?” He called, and crept inside.

It was empty.

Larkin scoured the room for clues of his whereabouts, cursing him all the while, but ended up empty handed.

The sun was setting low in the sky, now. Time was of the essence, and he couldn’t waste a moment hesitating.

Larkin spun back to the door, and caught a glimpse of it.

A familiar color, peeking out from under the bed.

For half a moment, Larkin thought he’d found him. But as he got closer he realized it was just a piece of his scarf - clearly torn off by way of the frayed and jagged edges.

“Fuck,” Larkin hissed. Gripped the fabric tightly in his hands. “Merlin. You idiot. Arthur’s going to be pissed at you, you know.”

“Your Highness.”

Arthur liked to think that he knew his knights very well. They spent countless hours together training and in battle; breaking bread and sharing ale. He knew their laughs and the sound of their footsteps. He knew how they sounded celebrating a victory, and he knew the quiet drone of a loss.

Arthur knew Larkin was scared before he even turned to face him. “Larkin,” Arthur greeted; frown deep as he observed him. Sure enough, there it was - the downturn twist of his lips and the tense shoulders. The way he’d scratch a nail against an old scar on his wrist. “What’s wrong?”

Larkin glanced around them. There was no one else present in the guest room Arthur had been provided with, yet he seemed to almost expect someone to jump from the shadows. “I - it’s Merlin, Your Highness.”

Arthur fought to keep his expression still. He hadn’t seen the man since they'd left that morning, but that was not quite unusual. Merlin was, despite Arthur’s teasing, a busy man even while they were on missions. He was certain that, even in a quiet nobleman’s house, he’d found something to occupy him. “What about him?” Arthur asked.

“I… I did not wish to say much, but I believe he has gotten in over his head. He would not listen to me, and I haven't seen him since this morning.” Arthur opened his mouth to ask him to elaborate, but Larkin held out a scrap of fabric before he could. “I think - you know how clever he is. I think he tore this off for us to find.”

Arthur didn’t need to look closely at the cloth to know what it was, but he took it anyway. He’d know Merlin’s gods damned neckerchief anywhere. “Shit. What’s been going on? Why haven’t I heard anything about this?”

“He, ah. I believe he did not wish you to worry, but I think someone here may hold some… ill will towards you, Your Highness.”

Arthur stared at him. "And why have you not reported to me before now?"

Larkin bowed his head. "I apologize, Sir. I have no excuse that would be acceptable enough. Just that I thought it wise to respect Merlin's wishes. Until now."

Arthur sighed heavily. "No, none of that. It is not helpful. Tell me what you know."

"I'm afraid not much. Yesterday, I noticed that he was acting particularly skittish, and questioned him. There he told me that he suspected that the family had some foul intentions, though he knew not what."

Arthur began to pace slowly; thumb rubbing the fabric thoughtlessly. "I need exacts, Larkin."

Larkin hesitated. "I - what was said is quite a… heavy accusation."

His patience was waning. If Merlin was in trouble, they had no time for this. "Larkin. That is an order."

"Of course, Sir," he acquiesced. "All he told me was that he thought that they had something to do with the victims - that perhaps it was a way to get you here, though he knew not why."

The feeling of discomfort had followed Arthur since they'd arrived, but he'd assumed it was simply because of the dozens of people he had no idea how to help. He would have been comforted by the idea that he was not alone in that, had Merlin actually been there to share it. "And?"

"Merlin… was quite anxious, last we spoke, that they wanted something with him specifically." Larkin shuffled in place. His fingernail scratched against the scar again. "He said Lord Keir more or less accused him of - of having magic."

Arthur froze. His fingers curled tighter around the fabric. "Was that all?" Arthur asked; voice rough.

"Aye, Sir. All that he would tell me. This morning, he said that he thought he'd found something, but would not let me stay to assist him. If - if they truly think he has magic, then I fear what they may do to him, Your Highness."

Arthur's mind was somehow screaming, and silent. "Yes. Me as well."

“I know what these people are like. I grew up in a home much like it. I know what they are capable of, and I would not wish that fate on even my worst enemy.”

"What are you suggesting?" Arthur asked.

Larkin's gaze was determined. "What we must to bring our friend home in one piece."

That, Arthur could agree with. "And we will. Come. Let's find Lord Keir then and see what he has to say for himself."

Just as they were at the door, Larkin spoke up; voice small. "Your Highness. Might I ask… if - if what they say is true. If Merlin does have magic, then what would you have us do?"

Arthur only allowed himself a moment to gather his mind before he said simply, "What is right."

There was no other option to choose.

The cuffs were iron. Of course they were. Merlin’s small candle flame of hope that they didn’t think he had magic was extinguished the moment he woke up and realized what they’d chained him with. His magic felt clunky and far away from him, like looking at it from across a great lake.

The room he was in was less of a cell like he expected and more like a gutted storage room. There was no window to speak of, and only a single torch high up on the wall to light his surroundings. The door was the same heavy oak as the rest of the house, but two small windows had been cut crudely into it.

Merlin, as he always did when he awoke to a less than favorable position, tested his restraints. There was little give to them, and the manacles themselves were attached by a long chain to the far wall. Out of pure frustration, he gave them a sharp yank, but it remained steadfast.

“It’s no use,” a voice said; hoarse and weak.

Merlin jolted in surprise so sharply that his chains clattered against each other.

A man lay huddled against the edge of the wall across from him. He was little more than a dark smudge, with wild hair and tattered clothes.

"I've only just gotten here. Seems early to throw in the towel when I've not even tried yet," Merlin said as he fought his way to sitting upright.

The man shrugged; chains clinking with the movement. "I just think I might've already tried whatever you could think of. I've had the time to do so, at least."

Might as well cut to the chase, then. "Who are you?"

"Graeme. And you are like me."

Well. Shit. He found the sorcerer. "I beg your pardon?"

Graeme looked unimpressed. "No use in lying. I can tell. I have a nose for it. Magic, that is."

"I've never heard of anyone being able to smell magic."

"Haven't you?" Graeme argued, albeit softly. He looked like a forgotten doll, sprawled out on the floor like he was. "You've never smelled the brimstone before fire leapt from your fingers? Never smelled rain where it was not present when you called forth water for a bath? You smell of the earth and a storm before it cracks the sky open."

Great. One more thing to worry about giving himself away. "Aren't you supposed to be on the run?" Merlin asked instead.

"Am I? Is that what they're saying?" Graeme asked.

"The Darrows? Yes. They called for royal aid to help them with their magic problem."

"Ah," said Graeme. "You're him, then. I'd suspected as much."

Merlin frowned. "Excuse me?"

"The prince's servant, yes? Keir was quite fixated on you when he returned from his trip. Did you really enchant the prince?"

"No! Bloody hell, why does he even think that? I'm not stupid! That's the fastest way to be beheaded, firstly, and secondly why would I ever want that dollophead under my control? That would be exhausting!"

Graeme's laugh was coarse and wheezing. "You hold no love for your prince, then? From the stories, it had sounded like you were smitten."

"I - well, I didn't say that! He's an idiot, is all, and I'm much smarter than using magic on the prince of Camelot."

"Mm. You seem smarter than Keir, certainly," Graeme agreed.

Merlin stopped. "What? Is that what he's going to do? Enchant Arthur?"

Another shrug. Merlin's eyes were getting used to the dim light, and he could just barely make out his dirt covered face. He looked… resigned. Exhausted. There was an old bruise on his face, and a bloodstain on his shirt collar. "I’ve long since given up trying to decipher what is going on in that head of his. “

Not a good enough answer. If there was even a chance that he was going to try to ensnare Arthur, then things would only get worse. He’d seen what damage that could do, and he had no hurry to replicate it.

Merlin tried to squeeze a hand out of the manacles, but it wouldn’t budge. He tried his magic again. If he could just click the latch with it, then he was certain he could get them both out of there in seconds. His magic, however, only seemed to drift further from him the more he grasped at it.

“I told you it’s useless,” Graeme told him quietly.

Merlin shot him an annoyed look. “The only thing useless is sitting here and giving up.”

Graeme hummed. “Waiting for the right moment is not giving up.”

Merlin stopped. “…What do you mean?”

“He is a prideful man. I tend to see him at least every few days to gloat. Now that there is two of us, I think we could come up with some way of subduing him.”

Tempting, but Merlin didn’t have the luxury of time. “Sure, I would, but I plan to be out of here before then. I can’t leave that royal prat alone for more than a few hours without sometime trying to kill him. I need to get out before something stupid happens.” And by that he meant that he needed to get out before Arthur inevitably made a stupid mistake he would need to fix.

“Suit yourself.”

“I fear I have lost track of my servant,” Arthur said calmly. “Have you heard from him? Seen him about?”

“I am sorry to say that I have not, Your Highness,” Wallace said. “I would be happy to assist you in finding him, however. In fact, my son had just raised his own concerns to me regarding him as well.”

“Oh?” Arthur raised an eyebrow towards Keir, who nodded. “What news do you have, then?”

“Your Highness. Last I saw him, he said he wanted to go to the woods to fetch some herbs he thought would be useful to the servants. I have not seen him since,” Keir reported.

“How long ago was this?”

“Midday, I believe. Just before lunch.”

Arthur did not believe for a moment that he was there. He nodded, anyway. “Very well. I will send some of my men to search the surrounding area. In the meantime, would you mind if I trouble you further and allow me to make sure he has not wandered about the manor?”

“Of course not. Please, my home is open to you, Sir,” Wallace said. “Keir, why don’t you help His Highness? Don’t leave a room unturned. I will start setting some of my men out into the village to see if anyone has seen him.”

“Of course, Father.” Keir gave a bow, and led Arthur down the hall. “Perhaps we can start at the top floor and work our way down?”

“Certainly. Larkin, fetch Leon. I want you and he to accompany us. As for the others, update them on the situation and have them fan out within a day’s ride of the woods near here,” Arthur ordered. “They know how he is. They will know what to look for. I want you to tell them every detail. It will be vital to finding Merlin.”

Larkin bowed, and rushed to comply.

When it was just Keir and Arthur climbing the steep steps of the Darrow home, Keir spoke up in a hesitant voice. “Your Highness. If I may.”

“What is it?”

Keir cast a glance at him. He was hard to read, especially in the dark stairwell. “I just had some, ah, concerns about Merlin. Before he went missing, I mean.”

Arthur stopped, as did Keir. “What sort of concerns?”

Keir grimaced softly. “I do not wish to overstep, but I could not sleep with myself if I did not say something. Although I did not wish to speak of it in front of my father, as he is now likely to be, ah, reactive about it.”

“Lord Keir,” Arthur said; voice clipped. “What do you want to tell me so badly?”

“My apologies, Your Highness. I simply do not wish to sully what is very obviously a special relationship.” Keir lowered his voice and said, “I saw Merlin using magic, Sir. I - I did not believe it myself, at the time, but I saw it twice more just this morning.”

It felt as though someone was strangling the air from Arthur’s throat. Carefully, he asked, “What did you see, exactly?”

“The first was - I thought it was almost a fluke, with how quick it was. Just the whisper of a spell on his lips. I know not what it was. As for this morning, I saw it once as he almost spilled a tray full of food. There was a flash of light and it righted itself perfectly.” Keir shuffled in place; hands wringing together. “As for the third time… I was in such shock after seeing the first one today that I decided to follow him up to the sick rooms. There I saw him whispering something to the servants. They seemed to glow, almost. I was scared that they might be in danger, so I went inside. I think he assumed I didn’t see, and then said he was going to find herbs in the forest.”

Arthur chewed on this. “…And you haven’t seen him since?”

“No, Your Highness.”

“And you’re certain of what you saw?”

Keir nodded. “Unfortunately.”

“Very well. Thank you for bringing this to my attention,” Arthur managed through the pounding in his ears, and began back up the steps.

“May I ask?” Keir called. He had not moved from his spot. Arthur paused, and looked back down on him. “What do you plan to do with him, Your Highness? I admit I was quite shocked. He seemed like such a nice man, but to think he was a criminal this whole time…” Keir shuddered. “I cannot imagine how heartbreaking that must be.”

“We will speak of that when we find him,” Arthur replied cooly, and kept walking.

“They’ve taken Merlin,” was all Larkin needed to say. Half of them stood while the other half already standing reached for their swords. “Wait! Wait! We have to be careful about this. Prince Arthur is working on it now. Leon, he wants you and I to accompany him.”

Leon nodded. “Gladly. Do we know why they’ve taken him?”

“We think it has something to do with trying to get to Arthur, but we don’t know for sure yet. As for everyone else, he wants you to search the forest for signs of him,” Larkin explained. “I believe it might be for the off chance that it actually is the truth that he simply got lost in the woods.”

“If it were any other circumstance, I’d believe them,” Elyan mumbled. “I thought they’d been paying close attention to him. I just thought the son had a crush.”

“Oh. Well. Speaking of. One other thing. They think - I mean to say, Lord Keir is accusing Merlin of having magic.” Larkin tried not to cringe at how still everyone went. “I just wanted to tell you so you are not surprised by it, or in case it may help your search.”

The others were quiet for a long, long moment. Finally, Gwaine spoke up, “So we all know, right?”

Elyan let out a large breath. “Oh, thank the gods. I wasn’t going to be the one to mention it first.”

“Once, I saw him use his gaze only to throw a bandit off me. He thinks I was knocked out and didn’t notice,” Percival supplied.

“For me, it was stopping an arrow from hitting me,” Leon said.

“Hold on. You all knew?” Larkin threw Lancelot a betrayed look, but to his credit he, too, seemed genuinely surprised.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Lancelot asked them.

“And say what? Hey, I know our friend is committing treason just by existing, but he makes me laugh so can we pretty please not let him get executed?” Gwaine asked with a scoff. “It’s a stupid law, anyway.”

Elyan groaned. “Gwaine, you have got to stop speaking treason right where I can hear it.”

“What? You know it’s true!”

“And you’re not all… mad?” Larkin asked.

“We should be asking you that,” Percival said. “Didn’t you hate Merlin for a while?”

“I - well! We’ve… patched things up.”

“Either way,” Lancelot spoke up; smile soft but waning. “I am glad we are all on the same page, but the problem remains the same. We need to find him.”

“Does Arthur know, too?” Larkin couldn’t help but ask.

The others shared looks that told Larkin all he needed to know. “He tends to be rather oblivious when it comes to Merlin,” Gwaine said.

“I am prepared to defend Merlin, should it come to that,” Lancelot said; shoulders set and chin high. “I like to believe that it won’t, but one should always be at the ready.”

Leon agreed, “Yes. I feel the same.”

“Well, then.” Gwaine clapped his hands; grin wide. “Let’s go get our damsel back, shall we?”

By the ninth time that Merlin's magic failed to come to him, he huffed and sat back against the wall; forehead sweaty. “Are you the one that put all those people under that spell?” Merlin asked, mostly to take his mind off the fact that Arthur was in danger and he was stuck here.

Graeme nodded. “Yes. For their own safety.”

Merlin frowned. “What?”

“They’re all like us. We used to live peacefully amongst others. We didn’t care about laws here. We were just people. But then they moved here and it all changed.”

Well. Might as well get comfortable for an anti-hero backstory. He’d been through enough of these by now to recognize it a mile away. “How so?”

“Keir. He has magic. He hides it. Blames it on us. He likes to keep us around, just in case. His magic is unruly, at times. Escapes him when it pleases. If he has us near, he can just use us as a scapegoat.”

“So I suppose you didn’t burn those houses down,” Merlin said.

Graeme huffed. “No. A ploy to implicate me. I was just unfortunate to be his servant at the time. I figured if I put them all under a spell, it would keep them safe. He couldn’t use them as a shield any longer. Couldn’t send to death another innocent. I asked all of them if they’d let me do so. They all agreed. No one wants to be his puppet any longer.”

Merlin considered this. Glanced toward the door. “Why has he kept you here?”

Graeme, too, looked toward the door as if Keir would magically appear. “Many reasons. I’m the only one who can wake the others. I have my uses to him still, and he wants me to replace you to have ears in the palace. He’s convinced he can still get me to play his games.”

Merlin blanched. “Replace me?”

Graeme said, very bluntly, “Well. Someone needs to take over your duties once they execute you.”

Merlin’s laugh was one of disbelief. “Why in the hells would they hire some stranger when we have our own servants?” Hell. He’d prefer George over someone from outside the castle.

“That’s what the enchantment’s for,” Graeme said.

Right. He’d forgotten about that.

“Well. Shit.”

“Shit, indeed.”

There was, of course, no sign of Merlin anywhere. “Is there perhaps a basement?” Arthur asked Keir.

Keir hesitated. It was all Arthur needed to know. “Yes, Your Highness, but it has not been accessible for quite some time due to renovations. There would be no way for him to access it - all the doors are bolted shut.”

Behind him, Arthur felt Larkin shift. At his elbow, Leon gave a considering hum. “Our Merlin has a way of getting where he should not.”

Keir sent them an apologetic smile. “I’m afraid it would be a fruitless endeavor. Perhaps we can try the gardens?”

Arthur would play along, for now. “Yes. Lead the way.”

“What in the hells have you been doing to pass the time in here?” Merlin asked. He couldn’t tell how long they'd been there, but he was already ready to bash his head against the wall from sheer boredom.

“Think about the food I miss, mostly,” Graeme replied.

Merlin groaned. “Gods, that’s torture in and of itself!”

The moment Keir was distracted, Arthur sent Larkin away to check for possible entrances to the basement.

Keir noticed the change the moment he returned from grabbing the keys to their shed. “Ah. Where did - “

“He had something to attend to,” Arthur said; tense voice a dare to prod further. “Is there an issue?”

“Ah - no, Your Highness,” Keir replied. He cast a furtive glance back toward the manor before he sent them a strained smile. “Please. The shed is this way.”

“I wonder if they’ve noticed I’m gone,” Merlin mumbled, mostly to himself.

“You’re the prince’s manservant,” Graeme pointed out. “I would hope they would notice.”

Merlin shrugged. “You’ve no idea their ability to get into messes that they have no business being in. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’d managed to get tangled up in some issues that weren't related to this.”

A branch snapped loudly nearby. The sun was swiftly setting, and it set Gwaine’s alarm bells ringing. “What do you think the chances are that having been our Merlin, and not some flesh eating grizzly bear?” Gwaine asked.

Elyan, too, kept a careful gaze on the area the noise came from. “Slim to none.”

Gwaine sighed loudly. “Always a pleasure being joined by your marvelous and bright optimism, Elyan.”

Elyan cast him a quick grin. “It’s kept me alive so far.”

“My Lord.” Larkin returned to him just as they began a sweep of the kitchens. Arthur’s patience had long since left him as Keir dragged them about the house this way and that. It was insulting, at this point, for them to keep leading him on such as this. “I found it.”

With some relief, Arthur closed the pantry door he’d been opening just for propriety’s sake. “Good. Lead me. Leon, go call the others back. It’s getting late.”

“Aye, Sir.” Leon left them in a swish of his cloak.

Keir sidled up to them; frown deep. “Might I inquire about what is going on, Your Highness?”

Arthur looked to Larkin. “My knight here says there is indeed a way into your basement. I’m sure this was simply a lapse in your memory. We’re to go search it now.”

Keir’s eyes widened. “Ah - I must have forgotten, you’re right. I am still concerned, however. The renovations may not make it safe. The servants have even been forbidden to enter.”

“All the more reason we should check, lest Merlin have gotten injured,” Arthur replied. “Larkin. Lead on.”

Keir’s voice called to them as they left, “All this, for a servant?”

It took a considerable amount of effort to rein the anger in and keep his face perfectly blank. He turned, slowly enough to give himself time to breathe through the curses he wanted to hurl at him, and addressed him firmly, “Indeed.”

“Even though he is a danger? I saw it myself.”

Arthur closed his eyes for a moment. Breathed in deep and slow. Shoved the fury down, down, down. Only after he was certain he would not lash out at him did he open his eyes again. “It is none of your business how I handle my servants. What you should be focused on is helping your own servants, not accusing mine. I will not rest until I have Merlin back, and you’d do well to remember that.”

“I - I just. But he has magic.” Keir cast a glance toward Larkin with wide; imploring eyes, as though he expected the knight to assist him. “Does that not frighten you?”

Larkin snorted. “Merlin is Merlin.”

Arthur nodded. Yes. Exactly. Merlin was Merlin. That was simply the truth of it. It did not matter, because Merlin was Merlin and Arthur swore to find him every time, and he would. Magic or not. “I will not be swayed. This is your final warning, Keir. Do not try to dissuade me further.”

“I - yes, Your Highness.” Meekly, Keir followed after them.

Merlin was having a fun go of thinking of all the different ways he’d ever seen an apple be made into a dessert. The possibilities were endless, and he wanted nothing more than to be eating the largest apple pie he could find right then.

“This is the worst,” Merlin complained from his spot star-fished on the ground. He’d had to shuffle back towards the wall to be comfortable. “You talked about food and now I can’t stop thinking about food. This is awful. You’re awful.”

Graeme laughed roughly. “I’d apologize, but I must admit that I am enjoying a comrade in the misery. It had been some time - “ Graeme froze. “Did you hear that?”

Merlin frowned up at the ceiling. He heard little else than his own breathing and Graeme’s soft, wheezing breaths, and footsteps -

Footsteps!

Merlin scrambled up so fast he got dizzy, and he half crawled; half stumbled toward the door to get a better listen.

Sure enough, several footsteps could be heard approaching them. Excitement and hope shot through Merlin so quickly that he yelled, “Arthur? Is that you? I’m here!”

There was no response. Merlin frowned. He could hear occasional voices, now.

He’d recognize the low hum of Arthur’s voice anywhere. “Arthur? Arthur! Answer me!”

The basement was far too tidy to have been under renovation, but Arthur was far too furious to point it out anymore. Instead, he led the group down the long and winding hallways; eyes searching. Every door they came upon he opened and searched meticulously. For the ones that were locked, he made Keir open them himself.

It was a bunch of nothing. Wine casks and wooden boxes. Cheeses and chests of old clothes.

It was so strange, though. Arthur had been so certain Merlin was there. Something quiet and instinctual in the back of his brain whispered the rightness of it.

This was where he would find Merlin, he was sure of it, so where was he?

“It’s no use,” Graeme said again. Merlin was getting rather sick of his awful attitude. “There’s an enchantment on the door. They can’t hear us speak. The door is as good as invisible to them.”

Merlin strained against his chains to get as close to the door as he could. He still had at least ten feet or so before he could reach it, but he tried his best to track the muffled sound of footsteps and voices walking further away.

“ARTHUR!” Merlin bellowed. Nothing. “ANSWER ME,  YOU CLOTPOLE!”

Not even a huff of indignation. The footsteps continued. Fuck.

“I told you,” Graeme sighed.

“Shut up. You’re so unhelpful right now,” Merlin snapped. “I’ll figure something out. I’ll - I’ll call for him until I’ve no voice. I’ll - “

If he had his damned magic, he could possibly throw his energy at Arthur violently enough to get his attention. Merlin scanned the room frantically for something - anything. There was nothing. No rocks. No debris. Just he and Graeme, and Graeme’s awful choice in footwear.

“Ah!” Merlin had to twist his arms awkwardly, but he’d always been more limb than person, so it was only after a small bit of fumbling that he was able to tear his shoe off his foot. The hard part was this - his hands were cuffed tightly together, and the chain attaching him to the wall was already pulling him at an odd angle just from him attempting to get closer to the door. It left him feeling a bit like a pretzel, but he did his level best at winding his arm back, and tossing his boot at the door.

The boot landed sadly on the ground in front of him, only a few feet away.

With a curse, Merlin tried again with his other boot. It was much the same this time. He couldn’t get enough momentum to chuck it far enough, and it instead landed sadly on the ground not far from his other.

“Fuck. Fuck. Graeme. Give me your shoe.”

“What?”

“Just do it, for gods sake! Don’t you want to get out of here?” They were running out of time. By the time Graeme had just as badly tossed Merlin his shoe, Merlin was afraid that they’d left already. He couldn’t hear their voices. Heart pounding, Merlin reared back, and threw it with all his might.

The shoe skidded, and tapped gently against the bottom of the door.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Desperate and half panicking, Merlin began chanting Arthur’s name in his head, albeit with some choice names for him in between it. His name was static in his mind as he picked up the last shoe.

Arthur, Arthur, Arthur, Arthur - answer me, you absolute dollophead! Arthur - Merlin twisted his arm back so far he grimaced at the pain. It had to work. This time, this time, he’d do it. This time - Arthur had told him that he’d always come back for him, and Merlin had believed him. Even against all odds, he would. He knew it. Hear me, I’m right here, I’m here, get me out of here, take me home -

Merlin held his breath, and threw.

The shoe clattered high against the door with enough force to shake it. Merlin hardly had time to celebrate it with how loudly he was thinking; pleading, Arthur, Arthur, Arthur, take me home I want to go home get me out of here, please -

Arthur heard his name seconds before a large thud resounded in the hall they’d just finished walking through. He whipped around, half expecting to see Merlin standing there with that ridiculous grin of his.

All he found was an empty hall. “Sire?” Larkin called.

“Did you hear that?” Arthur asked. There was a strange pulling at his chest, as if he was being beckoned back into the darkness by something.

“I did,” Larkin agreed; eyes squinted against the dim hallway. “It sounded like something hitting wood.”

“Perhaps there’s a room we missed,” Arthur said, and stepped back down off the stairs. “We search again.”

Merlin was so busy screaming for Arthur in his mind that he barely heard Graeme say, “Your eyes are glowing,” in something like wonder.

“Does it all the time,” Merlin grunted, and closed his eyes tight. Maybe if he envisioned Arthur opening the door, then it would come true. He just had to think hard enough.

“Not with these manacles on,” Graeme said. Merlin heard him sitting up for the first time since he’d woken up in that damned cell. “Whatever you’re doing, it’s working. What - how are you doing that?”

“Easy. Focusing on annoying Arthur 'til he gives me attention, just like usual,” Merlin said. “Now shut up, I’m trying to concentrate!”

Arthur, you’re a moron and a prick who apparently can’t hear for shit! While yes, technically, this is in my head I think we’ve been through enough to be able to speak with our minds. We’re destined or whatever! Two halves of a coin! That has to mean something it has to. Please, Arthur, come find me come take me home. Arthur, Arthur -

The tugging in his chest was getting so sharp he felt as if it was stealing the breath from him. Arthur trailed after the feeling; eyebrows furrowed and eyes scanning the area for any signs of his friend. He found that if he turned certain ways, the feeling would become more painful, but if he went others it would lessen some. He followed the quiet; incessant feeling like a fishing lure pulling him from the sternum. As he made it to the middle of the hall, in the darkest area unlit by torches, he saw it.

A glimmer, like finding a particularly shiny shell in the sand.

The wall looked bland and unassuming - normal brick like the rest of the home - but every so often Arthur would shift this way and that and he’d catch it again - a flicker of light as quick as an arrow.

Arthur reached out towards the wall, so certain now that it held the answer to Merlin’s whereabouts, and was promptly intercepted.

Keir stepped between he and the wall; face pale and placating. “Your Highness. I assure you there is nothing here - “

“If you do not get out of my way,” Arthur said immediately; hand on his hilt. “Then I will take that as a sign that you no longer wish to follow my orders, and will be dealt with accordingly.”

Keir paled further. “Please - Your Royal Highness, I am merely - “

“Larkin. Take him aside,” Arthur ordered.

“Wait - wait!” Keir tried to wriggle away from the grasping hands, and shuffled closer to Arthur; hands clasped together to plead, “You don’t understand! That servant is enchanting you! I am trying to keep you safe!”

“You thought,” Arthur said; voice low and dangerous, “that he was enchanting me?”

“It’s clear as day, Your Highness!” Keir said; voice high pitched in panic. He did not try to fight again as Larkin grabbed his arms and pulled them behind his back. “You could not see before, but I have bound him in iron. His magic cannot reach you any longer. You are safe now.”

“Safe?” Arthur’s laugh was sharp and devoid of humor. His mind was stuck on the word bound. He chained him? How very dare he. “My safety is not the one you should be worrying about right now."

“I don’t understand - I - the magic should have worn off the moment I cut his magic from him,” Keir rambled; eyes darting around the hall. “I - I know he’s magic, I know it. The amulet shone and everything, I - “

“Excuse me?”

“When I visited the castle,” Keir said, almost breathlessly. “I wore an amulet. It detects other magic users. I knew something was suspicious when I heard tale about the servant who was so close with you, Your Highness. I just wanted to do what was best for the kingdom, truly! The amulet glowed when I met him, I made sure of it. He is a traitor to the kingdom and a danger to all of us. Why aren’t you released from his grasp?”

Arthur reached a new level of fury he had no idea he possessed. His hands shook so heavily that he had to curl them into fists so tight that even his gloves did not keep his fingernails from biting into his palm. “Merlin,” Arthur began; voice shaking as his anger climbed and climbed and climbed until it choked him. “Is an important and valued member of my inner circle. To accuse him of such acts wantonly is a considerable offense. You had best have more evidence than a simple trinket glittering in the sun to provide me.”

“I - I - well, if you ask anyone who knows magic, they know that - “

“Not good enough,” Arthur barked. “Try again.”

“Your Highness, please, I - “

“Wrong answer.” Arthur stepped forward to hiss, “You have one chance to make this up to me, Keir Darrow. You will return Merlin to me, or I swear on my mother’s grave that I will make the sorry bastards who come after you spit on your memory for what you did to their lineage. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes - yes, Your Highness. I - the door is hidden away and the key is in my inner jacket pocket. It’s - enchanted. Only I can open it - can see it.”

“Well? Get to it, then. My patience is gone.”

Merlin really wished he had the wherewithal to enjoy the (rather attractive) stout defense of his character, but he was mostly too petrified of the fact that Keir had claimed Merlin had magic right to Arthur’s face.

A god damned amulet. How had he not noticed that when Keir had met them that first time? He should have known there was something suspicious the moment he so much as smiled at Merlin.

Did Arthur think he had magic? It hadn’t sounded like it, but even if he didn’t this surely had to put the bug in his head. He’d have to be extra careful. He’d have to only use his magic for emergencies. No more lighting annoying; damp logs with his magic and no more letting his magic do the laundry when Arthur wasn’t around.

Shit. Fuck. He’d been doing so well. Only two or three or four people had known he had magic! That wasn’t really that much, at the end of the day, but if the fucking prince of Camelot thought he -

Ah. Speaking of.

The door swung open, and almost immediately Larkin was dragging Keir bodily from the entrance.

Arthur looked quite regal, Merlin vaguely noticed, when his face was covered in righteous fury.

Maybe it was okay. Maybe that was anger because he thought Merlin had been wrongly accused. Maybe he -

Arthur locked eyes with him, and Merlin let out a ragged; relieved breath. For just a moment, none of that mattered. Arthur had found him, just like he'd promised.

He searched Arthur’s body for signs of wounds. Wished he had his magic yet again so he could press and prod at him to make sure there was no malicious magic clinging to him.

If he’d done all this just to lose Arthur to some random sorcerer, he’d be pissed.

The first thing Merlin did was ask, eyes desperate, "Arthur - are you alright?"

Arthur wanted to throttle him. He wanted to kiss him senseless. Was he alright? He wasn’t the one in the fucking cell! The absolute idiot. "I'm the one who should be asking you that, moron! Worry about yourself for once!"

Merlin looked affronted. “I’ll worry about myself when you stop getting into ridiculous situations!”

Arthur didn't have time for this, regardless of how much he wanted to fall back into the comfort of their usual banter. Just seeing Merlin curled up in a heap of limbs and chains was enough to piss him off again. "Keir. The key to their chains. Give it to me."

Keir had been suspiciously quiet since they'd opened the door. Arthur didn't trust it, even as he obediently handed over a thick iron key. Larkin must have felt the same, as he tightened his hold on Keir.

Arthur gave Larkin a quick nod before he stepped further in. "I'm getting you out of here. Are you hurt - " There was a body in the corner. No - wait. They were alive, and staring at them in disbelief. "Oh. Are you -"

"This is Graeme," Merlin said; voice entirely too peppy for the situation at hand. "He's a terrible cellmate, but not the enemy. By the way."

"You try being stuck in here for weeks," Graeme muttered before he returned his attention back to Arthur. With a short bow as best he could shackled, he greeted, "Your Highness. It is an honor, despite the circumstances."

Arthur hummed. "You will explain this later. Stay right there. I will be getting you out as well, but I expect complete cooperation."

"Of course, My Lord. Anything is preferred to this house," Graeme agreed.

A distant clamor of armor and voices alerted Arthur to the others finally making their way to him. With a glance back, Arthur ordered Larkin, "Take Keir and keep him somewhere he can't wander off. I expect this to be a long night for us all. Have the others keep watch of the Lord and Lady, as well."

"Happily, Your Highness. Come on. Get to walking."

Arthur paid them no more heed as he knelt in front of Merlin. He looked awful - hair messy, skin pallid, and dark circles under his eyes. Despite this, he gave Arthur a sheepish grin. "We've got to stop meeting like this, Sire. People will begin to gossip."

Arthur rolled his eyes and couldn't help the laugh that escaped him. "No more than they already do, I assure you." He was careful as he unlocked the manacles, and frowned down at the angry skin beneath them.

"Careful, or your face will get stuck like that," Merlin sang.

"Shut up, Merlin," Arthur said, and helped him stand. He kept his grip careful and vigilant as Merlin stumbled to his feet. Only when he was sure that Merlin could stand on his own did he move to assist Graeme. "Are you alright?" He asked the man.

Graeme blinked up at him. "I - yes, Your Highness. Thank you for helping even a servant as I."

"I see no servant here," Arthur told him gently. "Only a man in need." The manacles came undone. The skin under his was worse for wear. It almost looked like burns. After Arthur helped him to his feet, as well, he began ushering them both back toward the door. "Come. Let's get you both perhaps a warm bath and some food. Let me know if you need help - "

Merlin's knees buckled before he could finish speaking. Arthur rushed to keep him upright, and Merlin groaned softly into his hold. "Sorry," he mumbled. "Got dizzy. Like the air got sucked out of the room or something."

Arthur had a moment to feel the creeping dawn of dread before he heard it.

Yelling down the hall, and then a loud crack of something like thunder. The thuds of armor against brick and the pained gasps of his men.

Keir's deranged voice was much closer than he anticipated, and only rushing closer. "Maybe - maybe I have to kill him - then you'll see. It was all for you - for the kingdom!"

The thing about magic was that sometimes it worked more like an instinct and less like a choice. It was one in the same for Merlin, really - it was the unconscious action of breathing; of blinking. It was the hair standing on the back of his neck in fright and the buzz of adrenaline reacting to danger. Merlin was magic, and magic was he.

Merlin would like to say that it was his choice to forgo any hopes of living to see the next dawn for the honorable choice of saving Arthur's life, but that was not the case. His body was moving before he could truly process it.

All he saw was a rush of fire, and moved.

Many things happened at once. Arthur shoved Graeme back into the safety of the cell, and tried to do the same with Merlin. Merlin, instead, staggered away from his hold and shoved him away. Arthur stumbled and clattered to the ground in a heap of armor and curses. Merlin raised his arm, and bid the magic to obey.

Obey it did.

The wall of fire rushing for them screeched and twisted as if in pain. With barely a twitch of his wrist, the fire slammed into the brick wall and sizzled out of existence.

Keir, to his credit, only hesitated for a moment before he scowled and flung another spell at them. This one was a translucent wall of sheer force, but Merlin had little patience any longer. His entire body shook not with energy from the fight but of the future he now mourned.

There was no hiding it as he slowly made his way toward Keir, carelessly swatting away spell after spell as though it was nothing but a pestering gnat. Arthur knew, now. There was no hope for what they had.

Keir was screaming something at him, trembling and face red with anger and spit flying as he tossed fire and lightning and force at Merlin uselessly. Merlin could not hear him.

His eyes blurred with unshed tears and he could only hear the mournful static in his head and felt his breath coming in gasps. Again and again he caught and strangled and tossed away anything that had even a chance of slithering past him and towards Arthur.

He'd seen him. Had seen it. He knew he had magic. He knew, and now Merlin - Merlin didn't even care about being thrown into a dungeon or cast out of Camelot. What he cared about was their quiet mornings together. The laughter over a campfire. The soft smiles and pleased hums when Merlin had his room just the way he liked. The soft; nervous press of a hand on his arm. Would this be the last time Merlin ever heard him call his name?

Merlin only blinked back into awareness by the time there were hands on his wrists; nails digging into the already sore skin. He was knelt over Keir on the ground, not strangling, but keeping his hands firm on his throat to stop him from muttering more incantations. Keir was staring up at him in horror, like he was some beast.

He was not some evil thing. All he wanted was to stay by Arthur's side. And now that had been taken from him, so thoughtlessly.

Merlin's hands around his throat tightened, only barely. Keir's breath came out as a wheeze.

A tear fell on Keir's cheek, and raced down the side. And another, on his other cheek. And another.

Oh, Merlin thought distantly, that's me.

People were calling his name - many people. Merlin couldn't look away from Keir's bloodshot eyes. There were tears in his eyes, too.

"It's your fault," Merlin whispered to him; voice shaking. "You're taking him away from me. How could you?"

Shock flit across Keir's face. The fingers scratching at him for freedom paused. Confusion and bewilderment in tandem danced in his wide eyes. "What -"

If he said any more, Merlin could not hear him through the sound of his own heart; his own breath catching again and again in his throat. He could not see past the rising tide in his eyes. He'd felt loss before, yes, so many times - innumerable, immeasurable loss, but this? This?

" -lin. Merlin. Merlin, look at me. Breathe."

Merlin gasped and blinked his eyes furiously; Arthur's voice dragging him back to reality again. Keir was gone and now Arthur was knelt in front of him; blue eyes a storm. His warm, calloused hands captured Merlin's between them. "Ar - Arthur. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I couldn't - you - I couldn't let you get hurt. I'm so sorry, please don't - don't - I'm sorry, I'm sorry - "

"Merlin. Merlin, listen - look at me." Arthur's voice was a plea, just as shaking as Merlin's own. Merlin tried to oblige, but it was hard to see through the tears. "Breathe. You're hyperventilating. It's okay - "

"It's not!" Merlin snapped; breath catching on the end of the word. Another sob escaped him and he collapsed into himself further. Or tried to, but Arthur was there in seconds; bundling him up in his arms to sit him up straighter. Merlin pushed at his chest to try and get him away. He had to understand - he had to explain. Maybe if he explained well enough he'd let him stay. Maybe he could fix it. "It's not okay. It's not. I didn't want - I'm sorry. I just wanted to keep you safe, I promise. Please don't - I just want to stay. Please, Arthur - "

"Merlin. Please, just listen to me. I'm trying to tell you - "

Merlin shook his head. Panic had its claws in him and it was dragging him down, down. Arthur would never - never again could he - "I'm sorry. Please don't hate me - "

Hands on the sides of his face forced him to look up. Merlin looked, wide eyed, as Arthur leaned closer to him to whisper roughly, "Merlin. I knew. I knew, alright? It's okay."

Merlin exhaled; shuddering and in disbelief. "What?" He croaked.

There were tears in Arthur's eyes, too. Oh. Had he done that? Oh no. "I knew," Arthur told him again. His thumbs rubbed the tears away again and again and again. Unending, they swept them away every time more fell. "I'm sorry, too, okay? I didn't know how to bring it up. I didn't want anything to change, so I - I just. Didn't say anything. But I knew. You're not - I don't want you to go anywhere. I want you to stay, too."

Merlin felt his lip tremble. That felt - impossible. Unrealistic. Merlin didn't get - he was not afforded luxuries such as those. His life was not that easy. He didn't get the things he wanted, and he'd never wanted anything more than to simply stay by Arthur's side. "Really?" Merlin whispered.

"Yes, really. I knew. You're safe. No one will do anything to you while I'm here." Arthur gave him a careful, wobbling smile and gently brushed Merlin's bangs away from his temple before his hand curled back to his jaw. "Besides, who says I'd let you get out of work that easily, hm?"

A soft laugh escaped him, wet and shivering, without him realizing. "Bossy. I - you mean it?" He had to ask again, just to be certain. He couldn't get his hopes up like this. It would break him.

Arthur nodded. "Really. I swear it. Magic means nothing to me in this moment. Nor will it when we go back home. Considering you do still want to call it that."

The next sob surprised Merlin, and he curled himself forward to hide his face into Arthur's shoulder; hands gripping Arthur's shirt as though it were his last hope before drifting away. "I do," Merlin said. One of Arthur's hands cradled the back of his head while the other rubbed at his back gently. "I - I want to go home. Take me home."

Lips against his hair. "As you wish," Arthur promised. Held him tighter. "Anything you wish."

Merlin believed him in this, too.

Arthur was not sure how long he sat there holding Merlin, but it did not feel like long enough. By the time Merlin's shuddered breathing had slowed, Arthur's own tears had dried. He'd thought he'd lost him, for a moment there. The light around he and Keir had been so brilliant right at the end, that he thought he'd -

But Merlin had won.

Arthur looked down at the now asleep Merlin, pale and tear stained.

This did not feel like a victory, however.

It was Lancelot that walked quietly up to them. "Sire," he said gently; head bowed. "The others have taken the Darrows into custody and are holding them in one of the rooms. Larkin and Graeme are being tended to."

Guilt flit through Arthur sharp as a branding knife. "Are they alright - "

"They are fine," Lancelot assured him immediately; smile soft. "Minor injuries, nothing more. Your job right now is far more important, I dare to say."

Arthur sighed, and looked back down at Merlin. He loathe to let him go, but he had work to do. "Help me get him somewhere to rest. I want someone with him while I deal with the Darrows. The last thing we need is for him to wake in a panic."

"Are you sure you would not prefer to stay with him?" Lancelot asked as he helped Arthur get to standing with a bundle of Merlin in his arms.

Arthur shook his head. "It is best we set everything to rights now. And I think I need a moment to think, anyway."

"Very well. It will be done."

The Darrows had long since stopped begging them to let them out; to hear their reasons; to spare them. Larkin did not envy Percival and Elyan, who had been stationed inside the room to make sure that they behaved. Graeme had suggested, with a hint of glee in his eyes, to shackle Keir in iron as well, so he could not try anything.

It was Gwaine who mentioned first (it would always be Gwaine, wouldn't it?) to the others present, "So… At least we don't have to be the ones to break it to Arthur?"

Leon rolled his eyes. "Gwaine. A time and a place."

"That time is now and the place is in this rather depressing hallway," Gwaine shot back. "What else are we going to talk about? Just how horribly the brick clashes with this atrocious off white rug?"

Larkin's softly aching body yearned for a bed, but he felt he could not rest until he heard from Arthur directly what he would do to Merlin. He'd held Merlin so gently that surely he wouldn't harm or banish him, right? He couldn't hear what they spoke of from so far from them, but maybe it would be okay?

"It'll be fine," Leon told him gently.

Larkin jolted out of his thoughts; heart thudding. "You scared me, Leon."

Leon chuckled, and gave his shoulder a careful pat. "I think we'd best get you to bed."

"Wh - no, I'm fine, really. Besides, I want to see how Merlin - "

"Merlin is doing just fine," came Arthur's voice.

They all turned to face him; backs straightening on instinct. Arthur looked - well. Terrible, actually.

Gwaine (again, Gwaine? Really?) snorted and said, "Your Highness. You look dreadful."

Arthur rolled his red rimmed eyes. "I've dealt with enough this day without having to hear your voice for any longer than I must."

"Where is he?" Larkin asked.

Arthur's face softened. "He is sleeping in one of the rooms. Lancelot is standing guard with him."

"Are… What are you going to do?" Larkin asked carefully.

Arthur took his time responding. "How many of you knew?"

"I have known for some time," Leon admitted easily. "When he saved my life."

"You'd have to be an idiot not to realize if you spent more than a few hours with him," Gwaine said with a blasé hand wave.

Arthur looked to Larkin expectantly. "I found out recently, as well."

"And you all decided to keep this from me?" Arthur asked.

"With all due respect, Your Highness - "

Gwaine interrupted Leon, "Yeah. Sorry, princey, but I like Merlin more than some outdated law."

Larkin hissed, "Gwaine! Are you trying to say this in the worst possible way?"

"No, he's right," Arthur replied.

Gwaine grinned. "Yeah, see? I'm right - wait. I am?"

With a scoff and an eyeroll, Arthur said, "Unfortunately. I have long since had my suspicions about it. Merlin is in no danger from me."

Relief hit Larkin so hard he had to lean back against the wall. "Oh, thank the gods. That was so stressful."

Voice pleased, Leon said, "I knew I was right in pledging my sword to you, Your Highness."

"What he's saying is that he's proud of you," Gwaine said. "I'm not, though. That's like, common sense."

"Do you mean it?"

Larkin suffered his second or third or perhaps tenth heart attack of the day by Graeme's voice emerging from the shadows nearest him. "Fucking hell!"

"Do I mean what?" Arthur asked, unfazed.

Graeme crept closer to them; hands wringing. His wrists had been bandaged, but there was little to do about the bruises marring his skin. "You aren't going to prosecute the sorcerer - Merlin."

Arthur studied Graeme for a long moment before he replied, voice firm, "When I am king, I plan to repeal the ban on magic in its entirety."

Graeme's eyes widened. "Truly?" He whispered.

"I would not lie about this," Arthur assured him.

"That is… that is good news," Graeme said. Voice a bit stronger, he continued, "That will make this much easier, then. I was going to try to figure out a way to sneak out all the servants after I woke them."

"How in the hells were you going to do that from the fourth floor?" Larkin asked.

Graeme stared at him as though he were stupid. "The window?"

Larkin needed a drink. Or a nap. Or a drink and a nap.

"My Lord," he spoke. Arthur hummed in response. "I mean this with great respect, but I do not think you pay me nearly enough for all this misery."

Arthur barked a sharp laugh. "Another aspect to consider once I am king, then."

Merlin awoke with a dry throat and a headache so sharp it felt like a small dragon had clambered inside his skull and had decided to gnaw directly at his brain. As soon as he sat up, groaning, someone was pressing a cup into his hand. "Drink, my friend. It will help."

Only after Merlin had drained the whole cup did he register the room around him. It was unfamiliar, and devoid of any personality. Anxiety returned to him tenfold. It hadn't been a bad dream, then. He'd really -

"Easy." Lancelot took the cup from him and set it aside before sitting on the edge of Merlin's bed. His gaze was patient as he rest a hand on Merlin's knee. "You are safe. No one is going to hurt you."

"Arthur - "

"You are safe with him, too," Lancelot assured him. "Surely he has shown you that by now?"

Merlin hesitated before he finally nodded. "Yes. I just… it is still hard to believe."

"That is understandable, but believe this." Lancelot took hold of Merlin's frigid hands; thumb rubbing his knuckles. "Even if you weren't I, and the others, would fight for you til our last breath."

Merlin's lip trembled. "Don't make me cry again, you prick."

Lancelot laughed. "My apologies."

"You don't sound sorry at all."

Arthur walked in the next morning, face calm with no trace of the events of the previous day bothering him in the slightest. "Merlin. Do you feel fit to travel?"

"Yes, I - uh," Merlin grimaced at his own stuttering and tried again, "Yes. I am."

Arthur's smile was soft and adoring and brilliant as the morning sun. "Good. Let's get you home."

The travel back to Camelot was a blur. Merlin would hear, later when his mind was settled, about what followed in the Darrow manor. Keir was taken back to Camelot alone to face trial for conspiracy and kidnapping. Graeme agreed to be a witness to this. They all easily agreed to ignore any mention of magic Keir may bring up. The victims of the sleep spell were woken the moment Graeme felt safe, and Arthur had seemed content to let Graeme off with no punishment so long as he mind himself in the future.

During the trip, though, the knights did a fantastic job of both keeping Merlin's mind away from the situation as a whole with their incessant badgering for his attention as well as keeping Keir far, far away from him.

Strangely enough, Keir had kept nearly silent about the whole thing. The trial, too, was said to have gone off with much ease. He accepted his (rather lax) punishment, and fled the castle the moment he was allowed.

"I think you scared the shit out of him," Larkin had told Merlin much later; voice gleeful. "You should have seen it! I mean, I know you lived it, but man you looked incredible. Throwing magic around like it was nothing! No wonder Arthur's so smitten - "

This time, Larkin was not able to dodge the pillow.

It took a week for Merlin to have the guts to be alone with Arthur. Properly alone, that was. He'd continued his duties, of course, but it had been swift and efficient. He got there and finished his chores before he awoke and would only risk continuing his chores when he knew Arthur was otherwise distracted elsewhere.

Arthur was being, rather frustratingly, very patient about the whole thing. It was nearly scary, just how at peace he seemed with it. There was no bellowing his name; no hunting him down in the halls to demand answers. Arthur simply let him be.

It was driving Merlin crazy.

That was why Merlin finally shuffled his way awkwardly into Arthur's rooms on a too-bright afternoon.

Arthur glanced up from where he was working at his table; eyebrow raised at him. "There you are," he said, and turned back to his papers. "I've a shirt that needs mending over there when you've a moment."

"That's it?" Merlin blurted, and nearly bit his tongue in his haste to snap his mouth shut.

Arthur's quill hovered over the parchment as he looked back to him. "What's it?"

"I - I just - " Merlin huffed and rubbed at his face; suddenly frustrated. "You - you know now. And you haven't said anything. That's it? There's no - you're not mad? You don't want to talk about it? You - we're just going to pretend like it didn't happen?"

Arthur stared at him for a moment longer before he sighed, set his quill down, and kicked out the chair beside him. "Sit down."

Merlin obeyed silently; cursing himself all the while. He should have just left it. He should have just allowed them to stay in this blissful, if forced, ignorance. Should have -

"Merlin," Arthur said softly. Merlin straightened to attention and met his searching gaze. "I didn't want to bring it up before you were ready."

"I don't think I'll ever be ready," Merlin admitted.

Arthur hummed. He shifted in his chair to move closer to Merlin; their knees pressing together. Work forgotten, Arthur gave him his undivided attention. Usually, Merlin would preen under it. Now, it felt like a pin in a butterfly's wing. “I’ve known for some time now, I think,” Arthur told him quietly.

Merlin did his best impression of a statue. “Really?” He asked; voice rough.

"Yes. I think, for a while, I deluded myself into thinking that it was coincidental. There was quite a long time where I spent agonizing over it. What to do. How to react. I tried to imagine arresting you. Banishing you. But I couldn't." Arthur sighed from deep in his chest. "I will not lie and say that I did not have conflicting feelings, but the one thing I have never been confused about is us. We are the only certain thing in my life. Magic or not, you are Merlin all the same."

"I wanted to tell you," Merlin said through stinging eyes. "I wanted to so badly, but I didn't want - I knew you'd be upset. Confused. Angry. I didn't want to put you through that. I didn't know how to even bring it up. What I said back there, I meant it." Merlin made himself look Arthur in the eyes; show him that he meant it, truly. More than anything he ever had. "All I want is to be here. With you. Even if you cannot look at me the same, that's fine. Just - let me be selfish for this once. Please."

"Oh, Merlin," Arthur sighed again. He leaned closer to reach a hand toward him. Merlin allowed it. Felt breathless with the gentle tracing of his cheek. "I sometimes think you really are a fool."

Merlin, despite his thundering; hopeful heart, huffed. "Hey, rude - "

Arthur barreled on, "I already told you, didn't I? I want you to stay. It's why I haven't said anything. It's why I ignore my father's nagging about getting rid of you. It's why I put up with your frankly lackluster cleaning."

"What? I do a fine job - "

"Merlin," Arthur laughed. His hand pressed firm against his face. Cradled him as though he were something precious. Something to admire. Something to hoard. "You idiot. My idiot. I do not know how else to tell you this. You beg me to stay as though I would ever be able to part with you. Have you not thought that it was in fact I that was the one who so desperately clung to you?"

"I…" Merlin's face felt traitorously warm. The hope sang loud in his ears, but surely he didn't mean - surely Merlin could not be so lucky twice? "I don't know."

"Then I have not done my job well enough," Arthur replied. He shifted forward closer still; his legs slotting between Merlin's. With their shared breath, Arthur whispered to him a great secret, "I have not known an ache as deep as the one present in my lungs when we are apart. There does not exist the words necessary to describe to you the way you make me feel, but I will try. I do not spare you out of a noble heart. I do not shield you from my father out of pity. I keep you by my side out of pure selfishness. There is not a world in which I could see a future without you there."

"Oh," Merlin breathed; blinked away the tears making the image of Arthur swim. He looked too impossible, like this - golden and beautiful; endeared and endearing. Merlin's head swam with it. His fingers found purchase on Arthur's knees as he managed, "I - I didn't…"

"Now you do," Arthur said. "Do I need to say more? It is obvious that I have not been doing a good enough job, and I intend to remedy that."

If he continued to say words so honeyed, Merlin might keel over on the spot out of both satisfaction and embarrassment. "No, I - I'm going to kiss you, now. I think. Please."

Delight lit up Arthur's face with a smile. He, too, sounded a bit breathless as he laughed, "Yes, I would be amenable to - "

Much like Merlin's magic, the kiss was less a choice and more a need.

"You stupid," Merlin gasped between them; lips flush against his. Arthur surged forward to hold him more firmly; fingers digging into his arm, his back, trailing down his side; hooking behind his knee. Merlin broke the kiss again to say, "Awful, idiotic, prat of a man." Arthur made a noise like he agreed, for once, but maybe that was more because Merlin was currently kissing him so hard their teeth clicked together. "I waited so long, and I could have - this whole time, I could have had this? Prat. Absolute clotp-"

Arthur pulled back long enough to level Merlin with a small, heatless glare. "This is all breath wasted that we could be using for other; better things than your prattling - "

With an annoyed noise, Merlin shoved Arthur back into his seat. He allowed himself a moment of feeling smug at the look on Arthur's face before he climbed into Arthur's lap; reveling in the feeling of Arthur's hands tracing up his hips and under his shirt to anchor him there. "Arse. Bastard." Merlin swooped down to kiss him again; fingers curling into his stupid, pretty hair and staying there. Arthur shuddered beneath him, and Merlin noted the reaction with frantic glee. Experimentally, he gave his hair a tug. Arthur gasped into his mouth. "Dollophead. You - we could have - "

"We are," Arthur said. Bit at his lip. Kissed it better. "We are, you -" Arthur's voice broke off into another gasp when Merlin let himself grind against his hips. Merlin was treated to a rather wonderful view of Arthur's head thrown back; eyes fluttering and brows furrowed as he tried and failed to regain himself. He chased after Merlin's touch; hands warm and begging against his back as he tugged him down again. "-fuck. Do that again."

As always, Merlin was way ahead of him.

Later, much later, when Merlin was content and warm and finding out just how comfortable Arthur's bed was and how clingy Arthur was, did he realize a grave mistake.

Arthur was interrupted on his single minded mission of trying to kiss and bite every scar on Merlin's body by Merlin sitting up in a panic. "Oh, hell."

Arthur, too, sat up; frown deep. "What? What's the matter? Are you okay - "

"Larkin is going to be insufferable!" Merlin groaned, and tilted himself sideways into Arthur. Despite all his big, dumb muscles, Merlin was pleased to find that he was quite comfortable.

There was a short beat of silence before Arthur huffed, "Merlin, if you scare me like that again I will kick you out of my bed."

"Is that anyway to treat your - " Merlin froze. Arthur also froze. Despite the fact that he had just spent quite some time learning all the sounds Arthur could make in explicit detail, Merlin felt himself blush. "Uh. Me."

To his credit, Arthur was the first to recover. However, he too sported a rather deep flush. "We're adults, Merlin. You can say we're courting."

Merlin gave another rather dramatic groan, and hid his face in Arthur's (once again, very nice and very comfortable) chest. "Oh my god, we're courting."

Arthur's laugh was deep against him. He curled his arms around him; grip tight. "We are." Another pause, and then a louder groan from Arthur, "Gods. Gwen is going to be the insufferable one."

Merlin shot up out of his hold to exclaim, "She knew?"

Somewhere else in the castle, Gwen sneezed.

Morgana gave her a concerned look. "You're not getting sick, are you, my love?"

Gwen smiled and allowed Morgana to fuss over her. "I'm fine. Now what was that you were saying about the book Larkin lent you?"

"Oh, you'd love it. It's absolutely raunchy. We're thinking of starting a book club, actually."

Merlin passed Larkin a water skin, which he drank from gratefully. It was only after he'd passed it back that he'd noticed the look on Merlin's face. Larkin narrowed his eyes. "Merlin. What are you up to this time?"

"I'm not up to anything," Merlin said innocently; large eyelashes fluttering. "I'm simply here supporting a dear friend."

Larkin laughed. "You're a fucking liar, Merlin."

Merlin grinned. "Perhaps, but you're going to let me get away with it anyway."

"Well. If the prince doesn't care, then why should I?"

Merlin scooted closer; excitement visible. If he had a tail, it would be wagging, surely. "Exactly! Which is why you should help me with something."

Larkin raised an eyebrow. "Oh? What is it, then?"

With a laugh, Merlin leaned forward and whispered a plan in his ear. When he was done, Merlin leaned back; clever eyes bright with mischief. "Well? What say you?"

"I say, your true colors are finally showing. Who would have thought that Prince Arthur would choose such a dastardly man as his consort-to-be?" The punch Merlin gave him was rather strong despite his lanky appearance. Larkin snickered even as he rubbed his now sore arm. "Ow! Rather rude to your future subject, don't you think?"

"Do you ever not say stupid shit?" Merlin hissed; face ablaze, but didn't give him time to answer. "Are you going to help me or not?"

"As if I'd ever pass up a chance to fuck with Gwaine. Of course I'm helping."

Merlin hopped up to his feet, and held his hand out. "No time to waste, then!"

It was an easy choice to make. Perhaps the easiest he'd made so far. With a grin, Larkin accepted. "Right behind you, my friend."

The next time a nobleman with a rather obvious plan for a coup showed up in the castle walls, Merlin announced to Arthur, rather smugly, “Lord Shaw is going to attempt to poison your food tonight, and if that doesn’t work then he has a cursed amulet he plans to gift you. And before you ask - yes, I have a rather brilliant plan on how to thwart him. You may thank me, now.”

Arthur, who had been working rather diligently at trailing kisses down the length of Merlin’s neck, groaned into his collarbone. “Merlin. Can we please not talk about this right now?”

Merlin made an affronted noise. “I’m trying to keep you alive!”

“My hands are currently down your pants. The last thing I want to think about is some jaded old curmudgeon trying to murder me.”

Merlin tugged at Arthur’s hair in retaliation, which did not elicit the reaction he wanted. Instead, Arthur hummed lowly in approval and bit a mark into the soft skin between his neck and shoulder. Merlin shivered delightfully under him; voice a bit breathless as he replied, “Ah - yes, well, if you want so desperately to be involved with what I do, then you’re going to have to… to - Arthur, let me talk! You’re going to have to get used to never having a damned moment to yourself.”

“I’ll have him banished later tonight. Just give me a few minutes at least,” Arthur muttered.

Merlin laughed, and the grip on his hair turned softer; soothing. Arthur took that as a sign that he could finish what he started, but not before Merlin licked his way up his neck to nip playfully at his jaw. “A few minutes? I’d hoped to have your attention for longer than that,” Merlin murmured in his ear.

Breath shuddering, Arthur turned to capture his lips with his own. He’d learned many things about Merlin of recent, but his favorite was undeniably this: the way Merlin would melt into his touch and open himself to him in a way no one else was privy to. He pulled away just far enough to whisper against him, “Foolish of you to think I’d be able to let you stray from my gaze for even a moment.” Their next kiss was rougher. Merlin bit his bottom lip, and took his time releasing it. Arthur’s blood sang. His heart thundered. He’d never felt so alive than when he was in Merlin’s arms like this. With their shared breath, he confessed, “I could spend an eternity like this with you, and it would not be enough.”

The blush sat high and beautiful on Merlin’s cheeks. His laughter was soft and adoring. The torchlight flickered in time with its cadence.

What a gift Arthur had been given. What a wonderful, impossible creature he was honored to cherish. “Prove it, then,” Merlin bid.

Arthur was delighted to obey.