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.