Chapter Text
Merlin ran through the halls, paying no attention to the royal furnishings that had struck him speechless nearly a year ago. Nobody looked at him funny, just turned up a corner of their mouth in a knowing half-smile. Merlin was always hurrying somewhere, always late for something due to the loads of time he spent outside.
The manservant burst through his master’s doors and groaned. Arthur was nowhere to be seen. He didn’t have time to sit down and catch his breath. He had to find the king immediately.
With a sigh he turned and ran back the way he came. Maybe Arthur was in the throne room or out training. Sometimes he went to the stables and tended his horse personally.
On his way to the throne room, Merlin looked out the window. The drapes had been changed days before to prepare for the midsummer council. Even now the cooks were down in the kitchen, slaving away over various meats, cheeses, and cakes.
A few knights were lounging around the practice area, leaning on their swords as they talked. Arthur wasn’t among them. That only left two other places.
He kept running and when he turned a corner he bumped into George, one of the housekeeping servants.
“George, hey, have you seen Arthur?” Merlin asked.
“Yes, I believe the king is in the dining hall, seeing to the final preparations for the feast,” George replied.
Merlin picked up on the man’s subtle hint. Of all the lower class people in Camelot, Merlin was the only one that dared to call the king by name. Merlin didn’t do it on purpose; he honestly just forgot.
“So he knows then?”
“Knows what?”
“That the guests from Mercia are arriving.”
“Ah, yes. He knows. He was in his chambers when I told him nearly twenty minutes ago.”
Merlin sighed in exasperation. All that running for nothing.
“I suppose I’m off to the dining hall then. Thanks for telling him, George.”
“Someone had to.”
Merlin tried to ignore the comment and began hurrying towards the dining hall. He nearly tripped down the stairs as he thought angrily back to all the other times he’d been slow or completely failed to serve Arthur. But this time it wasn’t his fault. He wanted to get as much time outside as possible before the guests began arriving because he knew once they did, he’d be too busy. And it certainly didn’t make matters any better that Arthur had instituted a strict No Sex policy for the duration of the week.
Merlin didn’t think that policy would be in effect for long though. Not if he could help it.
He pushed open the dining hall doors and all heads turned to him briefly before returning to their task. Leave it to Merlin to be late.
“Ah, Merlin, there you are.” Arthur called to him from across the room. He motioned for him to come over with a hand.
“Yes, my lord?” Merlin made sure not to leave out the honorific.
Arthur looked around. “I need to speak with you. In private.”
The king jerked his head in a general direction and Merlin followed. The castle was bustling with servants making final preparations before the guests reached the gates and Merlin couldn’t think of a single place that might have a bit of privacy. Arthur settled for an alcove in a less used corridor.
“Is everything alright?” Merlin asked, slipping into Dragon Tongue. “Have I done something wrong? I know I haven’t been the best servant of late but—”
“Nothing’s wrong, Merlin. I just want to make sure you understand something.”
“Yes, what is it?”
“These people, from other kingdoms. They’ll be different. You know how nobles can be to servants. Some are tolerant and friendly, but others are cruel and demanding,” Arthur explained. “Even though you are my personal servant, sometimes you’ll be asked to do things for others. Just do it to the best of your ability, alright?”
“Okay.”
Arthur put his hands on the man’s shoulders. “And whatever happens, try to stay calm,” he said with an even stare.
Merlin nodded. “Okay.”
Arthur breathed a sigh of relief and turned to walk away. Merlin caught his arm.
“But I really wish you’d have more faith in me. I have gotten a lot better at this whole domestication thing, you know.”
“I know, Merlin. But you’ve never had to deal with people like this before. I just thought I ought to warn you is all. I’m trusting you not to lose control.”
“I won’t. I promise.”
“Good.”
Arthur looked around, and, finding nobody in sight, kissed Merlin passionately. It had the feel of desperation and pleading and comfort all in one. Merlin attributed it to the fact that Arthur thought it was to be their last for a whole seven days.
There was a cough and they jumped apart. Arthur sighed in relief when he saw it was only Percival.
“My lord, Mercia’s king is approaching the gates,” he informed them.
“Thank you, Percival.” Arthur gave Merlin’s hand one last squeeze. “Remember what I said.” And he took off.
Merlin was left alone with the hulking body that was Sir Percival.
“So what did he say?” The knight asked him.
“Oh, you know.” Merlin waved his hand dismissively. “‘Be on my best behaviour’ and all that. Something about these visitors being different from people in Camelot.”
Percival nodded. “Ah, yes. That would be Wihtred of Kent. His father is the king, Ecgberht of Kent. He has a reputation for being rather...well, he always gets what he wants and what he usually wants is fornication.”
“I see. And you think Wihtred might try to seduce me?”
“You’re not ugly, Merlin. And you’re very amiable. I’m not surprised Arthur is worried about you. But I do wonder why he was so vague as to who you should be wary of.”
Trumpets and horns pierced the quiet of the corridor and Percival started.
“But come, we must not be late!”
Merlin had to run to keep up with the giant’s large strides.
***
It was always weird seeing Arthur in a crown. He’d only seen it a few times, but never had he seen it sit atop Arthur’s head glistening in the sunlight. The blonde’s face was stern and composed as he greeted the Mercian king, lapsing only into a false smile of welcome for a moment.
Merlin would never understand the ways of the court.
“Welcome, Cenred. I am pleased you could come.” Arthur shook the king’s hand.
“Arthur. It has been a while since I’ve seen you. You were but a boy then.”
“And am nearly grown now. It is partly because of my youth that I seek out advice from my respectable neighbours. We have much to discuss,” Arthur said. He stepped to the side and a path cleared for Cenred and his men. “For now, we have food and drink. It should not be long before the rest of the guests arrive.”
***
There were so many people.
Too many people.
Everywhere Merlin went, there were cups to be refilled, dishes to be cleared, spills to be cleaned up, and various ridiculous errands to be run. It was just after dusk when Merlin felt like he couldn’t breathe.
It was like an anvil was sitting on top of his chest. The stone walls rose to high ceilings, but it felt like he was trapped in a tiny maze. His eyes shifted nervously around the dining hall. He caught sight of the moon rising full in the sky through the window and fought to keep still. Every part of him wanted to jump right out the glass and into the night. He wanted to run into the forest and curl up on a tree branch.
It was stifling. It was hot, loud, and everyone had had too much to drink. He was almost constantly being touched, either on the shoulder, or the arm, or someone bumped into him and he nearly spilled the jug of wine he gripped in his hands.
Merlin tried to focus on Arthur. He stood behind him, ready to fill his cup should it need filling. He remembered not to stare too long at his king, not to give away any hints at a relationship. So finally he just closed his eyes and began to take deep breaths.
“Are you alright, mate?”
There was a hand on his arm and a low rumble escaped Merlin’s throat before he could stop it. Luckily, it was too loud for the owner of said hand to have heard it.
It was a boy, probably about a year or two younger than Merlin by the looks of it. He was a servant as well, and had had a bit to drink if the colour in his cheeks were any indication.
Merlin inhaled deeply and replied, “I’m fine, thanks,” almost too cheerily. “It’s just—it’s a bit loud. I’ve never been around so many people before.”
“Ah. You must be rather new, then. I’m Isaac.” The boy stuck out his hand. Merlin switched the jug of wine to his other hand to shake it.
“Merlin.”
“I take it Camelot doesn’t have a lot of celebrations.”
Merlin shook his head. “No. It’s usually very quiet. We’ve had feasts before when dukes or other such people visit, but never so many people at one time. Sometimes then, I can leave. But Arthur has worked very hard on this and I think he needs all the support he can get.”
Isaac’s eyes widened a bit when Merlin referred to Arthur by name and Merlin mentally kicked himself yet again for forgetting the title. Isaac ignored it though.
“I’m sure things will settle down after the entertainers are through.”
“Entertainers?” Merlin echoed.
“Yes, the—oh look, here they come now.”
Isaac pointed to the entrance across the room. A group of gaunt-looking men were coming in carrying a harp, drum, hurdy gurdy, flute, pipes, and fiddle. Behind them came a beautiful woman with a small tambourine in her fragile hands.
“Helen,” Isaac named her. “She has the most beautiful voice I’ve ever heard. It sounds wonderful with the harp and flute.”
“Which one is the harp and which the flute?” Merlin asked.
Isaac gaped. “You don’t know? Honestly?”
Merlin shrugged. “I grew up in a small town. I know about music and singing. But I don’t know what those mechanical contraptions are.”
Balinor had sung before, and he’d taught Merlin a few songs, but they were all in Dragon Tongue. And he could play pipes rather well. But he’d never heard real music before, only tales of it.
Isaac blinked. “Alright, well, see that man over there? The one with the long beard? He’s setting up the harp, the thing with all the strings. It may not look like much, but it makes a remarkable sound, just you wait.”
He pointed out another man, this one plucking the strings of a fiddle. “That man there is tuning up a fiddle. It’s a hollowed out piece of wood with strings pulled tight across it that make different pitches.”
Each instrument was explained in full to Merlin and he was eager to hear what the music would sound like when it all came together. He heard the smooth chime of the harp, the pluck of the fiddle strings, the beat of the drum, and the jingle of the tambourine, but it wasn’t in sync yet, wasn’t music.
Everyone in the room looked expectantly at Helen when the setup was finally done. She passed her gaze across the hall dramatically before giving the players a slight nod to begin.
The harp came in first, then the flute. Next was a bit of the drum and finally a bit of tambourine as Helen opened her to mouth to sing.
“Camelot’s king of old and grey,
Sired an heir to the kingdom one day.
Of Uther Pendragon and Ygraine he was borne,
To protect his people and lead he was sworn.
As each year passed, young Arthur became
The man the king needed, but not the same.
Known for his wit, smile, and skill across the land,
He slayed his foes with a mighty hand.
Beast, bandit or bride-to-be,
The charming prince conquered all, and he,
Smiling triumphant o’er his prize,
Did look on it proudly with sparkling blue eyes.
The prince, our prince, fearless leader of the Knights,
Rose through the ranks of the tournament fights.
With sword, mace, bow, axe, and lance,
Our Arthur beat opponents that stood no chance.
And when time came for defense of birth-givers,
The handsome prince sent foes ‘way with shivers.
These rescued women hung to his side,
Praising and thanking, wishing to be brides.
The chivalrous prince, with sweet kisses and smiles,
Entertained their attention for but a while.
And when Camelot called for him to fight,
He rode out in front, eyes gleaming bright.
The prince, our prince, now King of all,
Brought us round to his banquet hall.
For feasting, music, joy, and wine,
All were sure to have a merry time.
Peace now through Camelot did ring,
The glory of which we will sing,
And Arthur Pendragon, our mighty King.”
Some of the more intoxicated guests had drifted off to sleep, but most of the ones still awake applauded excitedly. Some, like Wihtred and Cædwalla, clapped half-heartedly and only out of courtesy; Wihtred because he was a conceited ass, and Cædwalla because he didn’t exactly admire Arthur Pendragon.
“That was beautiful,” Merlin said to Isaac.
“Almost as beautiful as the woman herself,” the man commented.
Merlin didn’t reply, just leaned over to refill Arthur’s cup. He waved his thanks then returned talking animatedly to Princess Mithian, the representative from Northumbria.
“And I nearly blinded the poor man!” Arthur laughed. “When I looked to my father, he only smiled and nodded and didn’t say a word. About a year later, when I was of age and practically a man, he became more serious about it. Made me practise so I wouldn’t look a fool.” He took a large sip of wine.
“Well, I’m certainly glad he did,” Mithian replied. “I’ve heard wonderful things about your skills as an archer.”
“Yes, I suppose many have if it’s made its way into songs,” Arthur remarked. “But it’s important that people know I wasn’t always so. Any skill takes time to master. People must never forget that.”
“You are a humble man, Arthur Pendragon. Camelot is lucky to have such a king and I am proud to be your ally.”
The princess placed her hand over Arthur’s and subjected Arthur to her heartbreaking smile.
“Thank you, Mithian. I am equally proud to be yours.”
Merlin knew what jealousy was. He’d experienced it when Arthur needed to speak with Gaius over him and when Arthur could train and enjoy jokes with the knights that he’d never be able to, and a few other various times besides. But he had never experienced jealousy like this before.
Merlin was clenching his free fist so hard that droplets of blood appeared on the floor. Isaac took in Merlin’s intense stare and the scene at the table and understood immediately.
“Ah, I see.” He surreptitiously helped Merlin unclench his hand finger by finger. “So it’s not Helen, but Arthur that strikes your fancy.”
Merlin snapped his head to look at the servant beside him and took back his hand quickly.
“Wh—what? What makes you say that?” The anger was still there but fear had begun to seep in.
“Has anyone ever told you you’re a terrible liar?” Isaac smirked. “It’s written all over your face, mate. And you need to calm down. They’re just holding hands. Not even holding hands, they’re just touching.”
Merlin opened his palm and stared at the bleeding crescents. “Do you think anyone else noticed?”
Isaac did a quick once-over of the party. Most people had returned to eating dessert when the instrumental song had begun. Nobody was paying much attention to the lowly servants that waited on the side.
“No. But I’d be more careful if I were you,” Isaac advised. “If he found out you fancy him, he might understand, or he might do something cruel like my master.”
Isaac gestured to the oldest guest present, Cædwalla, who was sipping his wine and staring at the general company with disgust.
“Don’t misunderstand me: I don’t feel anything but hatred towards the man, and would never in a million years fancy him. But what I’m saying is, you’re lucky to have such a nice king. So though it’s best not to get caught expressing any interest, I think if you do, he’ll let you down easy.”
“Uh huh.” If only Isaac knew. If only Merlin could ask for advice on what to do when someone you love looks a lot like they’re loving someone else.
“There’s plenty to choose from here anyway,” Isaac continued. “And it’s the best time. If you get her pregnant, she’ll be back in her own kingdom by the time the baby comes and she’s likely to have slept with so many men here that the father could be just about anyone in this room.”
Isaac laughed but Merlin frowned into the jug and chewed his lip. The servant knew something was wrong but didn’t know what. Surely Merlin couldn’t still be upset over Arthur.
“If you don’t mind my asking,” he began. Merlin looked up and raised an eyebrow. “Have you ever felt...anything for a woman? Ever?”
“Have I ever cared for a woman or have I ever wanted to fuck one?”
“That’s one way of putting it, certainly,” Isaac chuckled at Merlin’s bluntness. “Both questions, I suppose.”
Merlin thought carefully. “In the small town where I grew up, there were many female admirers. I didn’t understand then what they were trying to do, but now that I know more I believe they were trying to seduce me,” he explained. His time in Ealdor felt like a thousand years ago. “I liked them a lot. They were nice and pretty and kind, but I never felt any attraction towards them like they did for me. I cared about them, and I suppose a part of me loved them, just not the kind of love they were looking for.”
“I see. So strictly men for you then?”
Merlin had almost blurted out “Strictly Arthur,” but he caught himself. “Why so many questions?” He asked instead.
“Just trying to find out what you like, mate.” Isaac held his palms up defensively. “How am I going to take your mind off King Arthur if you don’t give me something to work with?”
“Take my mind off—Are you trying to set me up? You’re trying to set me up, aren’t you?”
“Hey. Calm down. You just have to see that Arthur isn’t the only fit, blonde bloke out there. There are many others that are better suited for you.” Merlin sighed and rolled his eyes, but Isaac continued. “So what’s your type? Was there anybody in Ealdor you fancied?”
“I dunno.” Merlin shrugged. “Sometimes when I worked on the farm and it got hot we’d all take off our shirts. It was distracting, seeing them all sweaty and their muscles straining from the work—”
“Right. So you like strength. What else?” Merlin had began to blush and Isaac saved him from continuing his story any further.
“Well, the boy I stayed with, Will; he was funny. Absolutely hilarious.” Merlin smiled at the memory. “He taught me how to swear, you know.”
“Okay. Funny and smart. Anything more?”
Merlin glanced at Arthur again. He was no longer talking to Mithian, but listening appreciatively to the music of the minstrels.
“A good heart. He has to have a good heart.”
“Gods, don’t be such a lovesick fool, Merlin,” Isaac teased. “It’s going to be hard enough to find someone that’s strong and smart—which rarely keep company together—now you want them to have a ‘good heart?’ What’s next, a large stomach?”
Merlin didn’t find it funny but chuckled anyway. Isaac was only trying to help.
“Lucky for you, I know just the man.”
Isaac ran off and disappeared into the horde of people. Merlin sighed and went back to staring dismally into the jug of wine. His reflection stared back at him with a frown.
“Merlin.”
He looked up at the sound of his name. Arthur was calling for him to refill his cup. He walked over and poured the last of the wine in. As he turned to get more, Arthur caught his arm.
“Are you alright? You look pale.”
“I’m fine, sire.”
“Are you sure?”
Merlin glanced around quickly before replying. “There are a lot of people here. I don’t feel well, trapped inside with all of them.” Which was half the truth at least.
“You can leave if you need to. I’ll understand,” Arthur said.
It cut Merlin like a knife. Leave? So Arthur could have more time with Princess Mithian? Never.
“I’ll be fine. It’s only a couple more hours, isn’t it?”
“Yes. One, by the looks of things. People are nodding off left and right.”
It was true. The people that hadn’t slept through the song were struggling to keep their eyes open. Faithful servants were waking their masters to suggest they retire for the evening.
“That’s a relief, then,” Merlin replied.
“Merlin!” Isaac shout-whispered. “Oh, sorry, my lord,” he said and bowed when he noticed Merlin was talking to Arthur.
Arthur resisted the temptation to lift a contemptuous eyebrow. “Friend of yours?” He asked Merlin instead.
“He seems to think so. I’m not quite sure yet.”
“Who’s that with him?”
Merlin looked over his shoulder. There was a man next to Isaac with bright eyes and black hair that curled slightly up and the ends. He had a few freckles from too much time spent outside and was accordingly tanned. When he smiled it stretched across his whole face.
Honestly, he looked a bit like a bigger, stronger, tanner, more attractive Merlin with longer hair, and green eyes rather than blue.
“One of his friends he wants me to meet,” Merlin lied.
Arthur eyed the man with uncertainty and the worry showed on his face.
“He looks nice,” Arthur finally said. “Just—”
“Be careful. I know, Arthur. I heard you the first two thousand times.”
Arthur grinned a bit. “Alright then, fine. Don’t let me keep you from socialising.”
Merlin forgot the wine and went back to join Issac and this new man.
“Merlin, meet Edwin. He’s a servant to Prince Wihtred,” Isaac introduced him.
The name was laced with meaning. Wihtred’s reputation and Edwin’s association with him could only mean he was experienced with the sort of things Merlin liked.
“Hello Merlin. Nice to meet you.” Edwin held out a hand and Merlin shook it.
“Likewise.”
“I was just telling Edwin here about your problem,” Isaac said. Merlin looked ready to explode so Isaac hurried on. “That you want someone you can’t have. And that maybe you just need someone to take your mind off of them.”
Merlin visibly relaxed but he was still troubled. “Isn’t that a bit...mean? I’d just be using him.”
Edwin spoke up. “Don’t worry about it. I’m used so much I don’t mind anymore.”
“See?” Isaac exclaimed. “He’s perfect. Now, follow me.”
Isaac grabbed both their wrists and pulled them through the mass and out the doors.
“Hey, slow down there!” Merlin cried once they were free of the dining hall. “I think you may be more excited for this than I am.” He glanced quickly at Edwin beside him. “No offense,” he added.
“None taken.”
“It’s not excitement, Merlin. It’s initiative,” Isaac explained. “Who knows how long until the party ends and they’ll be looking for us to clean up? There’s only so much time.”
He nearly ran up the stairs and they almost tripped behind him.
“Can I at least have my arm back?” Merlin asked. Isaac let go of them and they rubbed their wrists almost in sync. “Thank you.”
They stopped at the top of the stairs in front of a window that overlooked the palace courtyard. Isaac turned to them.
“Which is the best room?”
Edwin and Merlin exchanged glances. Edwin stepped up this time.
“Isaac, I think you’ve done enough here. We can handle things on our own.”
“Oh! Of course, of course.” He listened a moment. “I think I hear people leaving the feast now. Better find someplace quick.”
He scurried off down the stairs and they were left alone. Merlin stood awkwardly, staring sheepishly at the floor. He had no intention of doing anything with this man, but wasn’t sure how to approach it. He’d normally be upfront about it, but this was someone he just met. He was still a shy cave-boy at heart.
Then the moon came out from behind the clouds and Merlin looked up at it. He longed to be outside, free and surrounded by the peaceful nighttime forest noises.
“You have a lovely smile.”
Merlin turned to the voice. He was so wrapped in his thoughts that he’d forgotten Edwin was there.
“Thank you. I like yours as well. It suits your face.” Merlin was blushing. Oh gods why was he blushing?
Edwin caught it. He cradled Merlin’s face in his right hand and thumbed the pink cheek. “You’re so cute.”
Cute? He’d never been called that before. He’d heard it used by some of the female servants and had taken it to be a feminine term. Why was Edwin using it on him?
Edwin trailed his thumb down to Merlin’s lips and caressed them softly. The touch made Merlin shiver.
“Can I kiss you?”
Merlin didn’t notice Edwin leaning in, it was so smooth, so subtle. He said nothing. Whatever this was, it felt nice, but it didn’t feel right. Edwin was attractive but something was off about him.
There was also the fact that Merlin loved Arthur. Arthur may have flirted a bit, and may have let the princess touch him somewhat intimately, but they’d done nothing close to kissing and holding each other this close. This was wrong.
However, in the time it took Merlin to think all that, Edwin had pressed his lips first softly, then firmly against Merlin’s. It caught him by surprise and he gasped. Edwin mistook it for encouragement and slipped his tongue between Merlin’s open lips.
This was definitely wrong. This kiss was sloppy, uncoordinated, and much too wet. There was too much force, too much desire coming from one end and not being returned from the other. If it was in a heat of passion or a fit of lust, perhaps it might have been better, but it wasn’t. Edwin was kissing harder, squeezing Merlin’s arms, backing him up against the window—
“Stop,” Merlin managed to breathe out. “Stop.”
He tried to push Edwin away but the man held on as if for dear life. Merlin turned his head and Edwin took it to mean he wanted his neck kissed.
“Stop,” Merlin said more forcefully. “I said, stop!”
“Come on, Merlin, you know you want this. You know you need this.” It was the first thing Edwin had said since the assault began and it came out husky yet smooth. For a moment, Merlin believed him. But only for a moment.
“I don’t want to hurt you, Edwin.”
“Trust me, you’re not hurting me.” He began to fumble with Merlin’s neckerchief and Merlin took the opportunity to push Edwin away forcefully.
“Get away from me!” Merlin shouted.
“Merlin,” Edwin chuckled nervously. “Don’t make such a fuss. We were having so much fun.” He started walking towards Merlin with an apologetic expression.
“Touch me again and I’ll break your fucking legs.”
Edwin stopped dead in his tracks.
“What did you just say to me?”
“Touch me again,” Merlin repeated slowly. “And I will break. Your fucking legs.”
“And how’s a scrawny little thing like you going to do that?”
Well, there was magic, but Merlin wasn’t about to out himself as a sorcerer to this ass.
Luckily, he didn’t have to say anything more because just then Isaac came running up the stairs.
“Oh, good, you’re still here. Or maybe that’s bad.” He thought about it a second then decided it didn’t matter. “You’re needed in the dining hall. Those royals made a real mess of things.” He caught the tension a bit later. “What’s going on?”
“I was just leaving,” Merlin snapped. “And Isaac, make sure I never see this sorry excuse for a man ever again.”
***
Not two minutes after Merlin had said he’d stay, the man leaves without a single word. Just practically runs out of the place with two men he barely knows.
Arthur was suspicious.
He called the guests to attention. “It’s been a wonderful evening and I’ve enjoyed catching up with you all. But let’s retire to our beds and resume our celebration tomorrow. I see many of you are as sleep-deprived as I feel.”
There was a short round of applause for both Arthur and the night in general before everyone stood and began making their way out the door. Servants descended on the table like flies and quickly ate whatever had been left over before bringing the dishes to the kitchens.
Arthur rushed out and went where his gut led him. It proved right, for he turned the corner at the bottom of the stairs and saw Merlin with the two men talking at the top. He quickly hid himself partially behind the corner and tried to listen to their conversation.
All he heard was the sound of their voices, no distinct words, and eventually one of them left. Arthur hid behind a hanging rug as the man passed then returned to watching Merlin and the mysterious dark-haired boy at the top of the stairs.
At first they said nothing, and Merlin looked out the window for a few moments. Then the boy said something and—Arthur’s heart stopped—brought his hand up to touch Merlin’s face.
This was worse than Enmyria. Worse because it was in his own home, worse because he could do nothing to stop it, and worse because Merlin was letting it happen.
Oddly, it wasn’t rage that rose in Arthur, but sadness. Pain, betrayal, guilt. He partly blamed himself. Had swearing off sex for a whole week been so much that Merlin thought he’d been forced to find love elsewhere? Could this boy give Merlin something he couldn’t?
But that couldn’t be it. He and Merlin had been through so much together. It was beginning to feel like they’d known each other forever.
Arthur watched helplessly as the boy leaned in to kiss Merlin and Merlin let him. His stomach dropped when he saw the boy’s tongue dart inside his lover’s mouth.
He was about to turn away and go back to his room to wallow in self-pity when something strange began to happen. Merlin looked like he was struggling. The more he watched the more obvious it became. Merlin was struggling. He was trying to get away.
If that didn’t urge Arthur to come out of hiding and make his presence known, nothing would. And yet though Arthur wanted to, another morbid part of him wanted to see what Merlin would do. He knew this boy—though admittedly fit—was no match for his powerful warlock. Merlin had said he could handle himself. Arthur was a bit curious to see how.
“Stop!”
Arthur heard that loud and clear. The boy muttered something against Merlin’s neck that caused Merlin to try to push away even harder.
“I don’t want to hurt you, Edwin.”
Edwin. That was the boy’s name. Arthur felt a rumble low in his throat and was surprised to find himself growling. Apparently it was catching.
“Get away from me!”
Merlin had finally succeeded in pushing Edwin away and instead of his usual wolf-like aggression, he looked like a scared child. Arthur was two seconds from walking over but what Merlin said next had shocked him into immobility.
“Touch me again and I’ll break your fucking legs.”
Merlin may have looked scared, may have been scared, but the anger in his voice would have fooled anyone. Arthur was surprised to note that the accompanying snarl that usually came with his anger was nowhere to be found in the voice. Perhaps Merlin really was getting better at keeping himself in control.
Footsteps behind him spurred Arthur into action. He hid quickly behind the hanging rug once more and again peeked around the corner when they passed.
The man that had left before had come back. He couldn’t hear what the man said but he heard Merlin:
“Make sure I never see this sorry excuse for a man ever again.”
There was more speaking Arthur couldn’t make out but he knew the conversation was coming to a close. He composed himself as best he could and started up the stairs as regally as possible. The two servants were walking down and Merlin had seemed to disappear.
“My lord.” They bowed when they approached.
“Good evening. I’m looking for my manservant. He seems to have exited before I gave him leave.”
Isaac paled and was speechless. Edwin spoke up.
“Forgive me sire, for I am a visitor. May I ask who your manservant is?”
“Merlin,” Arthur said, and it was Edwin’s turn to lose his colour. “Dark hair, idiot smile, bit of a lanky build. Have you seen him?”
Arthur studied Edwin closely as the man replied. “Uh, yes, I believe I just spoke with him. Didn’t catch his name, but his smile was certainly idiotic,” Edwin stated. “I had no idea who his master was.” He glared at Isaac and the fellow servant tried to apologise with his eyes.
“Did you see which way he went?” Arthur asked.
“We told him he was needed in the dining hall,” Isaac chimed in. “But he walked off muttering something we couldn’t understand.”
“He was looking out the window rather longingly,” Edwin added. “Perhaps he went for a walk.”
Arthur nodded. “He does that a lot. Well, thank you for your help.”
The servants bowed a second time and continued down the staircase. Arthur reached the top and paused. It was this very spot that Merlin had been assaulted. He tried to imagine himself in Merlin’s position, pushing away and being kissed against his will. Would Merlin be able to walk past this spot without remembering what happened here? Would Arthur?
He walked down the corridor in the direction of the entrance on the far side. The quickest way outside was the opposite way, back down the stairs, but Merlin probably hadn’t wanted to walk the same way as the other servants if it was avoidable.
Arthur couldn’t stop thinking about Merlin. He’d heard tales of women breaking down after they’d been assaulted, but Merlin wasn’t a woman. The sorcerer was strong and could look after himself. And Edwin hadn’t hurt Merlin. He’d gripped his arms a bit but surely not enough to leave bruises.
Still, Arthur worried. Merlin might be fine on the outside, but how was he feeling on the inside? He’d never experienced anything like this before, and was sure to be confused. Merlin had assimilated into city life pretty well considering the challenges, but there was still so much he had yet to learn.
Arthur walked into the cool midsummer night and searched for his servant. His eyes were slow to adjust to the dark after so long spent under the bright lights of the castle. He caught a glimpse of movement in the shadows to his right and ran towards it. The shadow disappeared behind a building and Arthur sped up.
“Merlin!” He called softly.
The figure stopped in the alley between the blacksmith’s house and the city wall. He stepped into the moonlight and Arthur beheld the warlock’s tear-stained face.
He rushed to Merlin’s side and wrapped his arms around him. Merlin buried his face in the king’s neck.
“What’s wrong, Merlin?” Arthur asked, as if he didn’t know.
Merlin didn’t answer, not at first, and Arthur was content to let Merlin clutch his cloak and cry beneath him. It was a while before Merlin managed to stifle his tears and speak.
“It’s silly, really.” He wiped his nose on his sleeve. “It’s just—there’s so many people and—even though I’m used to all the loud noises, this was just too much. I guess what I’m trying to say is, I’m a bit homesick.”
Arthur looked down into the starry eyes. How innocent they seemed though the man was lying.
“And I know I’ll have to endure it again for another six days. Thinking about it all, knowing that this is just the beginning...it’s terrifying. I’m not sure I can do it without—without—”
“Without what, Merlin?”
“Without losing control.” Merlin swallowed and placed his forehead on Arthur’s shoulder. “You told me they weren’t like us. You gave me fair warning, and I—” Why wouldn’t Merlin just tell him? “I should have taken you more seriously.”
Arthur rubbed the man’s back and breathed into his ear. “We’ll get through this together, Merlin. But you have to tell me everything.” He pulled away and looked Merlin straight in the eye. “Did something happen with those two men I saw you leave with? You’d just told me you planned on staying the rest of evening before you ran out. Whatever it was seemed pretty urgent.” Tell me the truth. Let me help you the way I should have when I stood by and did nothing.
“I’m sorry. That must have been rather confusing for you. But you were talking with Princess Mithian and I didn’t think I’d be missed all that much so when they asked to see more of the castle—”
“You didn’t think—Merlin, of course you’d be missed.” Arthur gripped Merlin tighter. “I want you by my side always. Don’t you know that by now?” If it was somehow Arthur’s fault that Merlin left, he’d never forgive himself.
A corner of Merlin’s lips curled up in a crooked smile. “I suppose I should.”
And really, what had Merlin been thinking? The only reason he was in this situation was because Arthur was doing this for him, was holding this whole grand event so he would be safe.
“So you went off to show them the castle,” Arthur interrupted his thoughts. “Surely just that wouldn’t cause you to get homesick so suddenly. You walk through the castle every day.”
“No, it was...something else.” Arthur gave him a look that urged him to continue. Merlin sighed. “We were just making polite conversation. You taught me about that, remember? Well, they asked where I grew up and how many women I’ve had. I told them Ealdor, but I didn’t understand the second part. I thought they meant have I ever owned a woman but we’re servants and poor so it couldn’t be that.”
Arthur chewed his lip anxiously. This lie was getting more and more complex. And unnecessarily so.
“I asked them what they meant and they clarified. ‘Had I ever bedded a woman?’ I told them no, that I’d never really wanted to, but there were boys I liked back in Ealdor.” Merlin stiffened under Arthur’s hold and his eyebrows shot up with worry. “I was lying of course. I didn’t really like any of them, just liked looking at some...” When Merlin realised Arthur was still calm and unaffected by the new information he continued bravely. “Anyways, they started acting really weird. Less—less friendly. They were being mean and—and I just thought, you know, they really had no reason to be so cruel to me and if I was back in my cave I wouldn’t have to deal with this, wouldn’t have to deal with anybody.” He sighed again dramatically. “So I got homesick and I just had to get out of there.”
Arthur brooded miserably. City life wasn’t all good for Merlin. The shy, benevolent man from the cave was becoming deceptive and increasingly skilled at lying. Something else troubled the king: Merlin didn’t know about prejudice. He didn’t know about people being treated differently because of their preferences. At least, not from Arthur. Which meant that Merlin had been talking to someone, learning the little details of social interaction from another source.
And who could that be, Arthur wondered.
“I see,” Arthur finally said. “If there’s anything I can do to help—”
“Like I said, it’s nothing. I’ll be fine again tomorrow,” Merlin assured him. “But I’d like to sleep outside tonight if that’s alright with you. I can’t bear to go back in there right now.”
“Of course. I understand.” He tilted his face to the moon. “It’s nice out tonight, isn’t it?”
Merlin looked up at the silver disk that hung high in the sky, then back to Arthur, whose blond locks were glistening in the moonlight. “It is. Even better with you here.”
He squeezed Arthur’s hand and smiled. It wasn’t fake like Arthur expected, but a genuine smile that radiated the usual Merlin-ness. And suddenly everything was better, back to normal.
Arthur raised his hand to cup Merlin’s face, stopping midway when he realised it was exactly what that Edwin abomination had done earlier.
But Merlin leaned into the cradle of Arthur’s hand and purred pleasantly. “I love you,” he said.
Arthur smiled and pressed a soft kiss to Merlin’s lips, trying not to think of the ones that trespassed there not twenty minutes before.
“And I you.” And they were happy.