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Arthur was sulking.
Merlin could recognize the signs easily enough; the shifty mood, the short clipped words to anyone who approached him, and the wordless glaring until they backed away.
Merlin settled in for a fun evening and gave the room a quick scan from where he stood, more out of habit than anything. It was a good evening considering the day had been a long, cold and miserable affair. An unexpected snowstorm had hit the city that morning and had had everyone stuck inside all day. Although the day had started out alright, training had been cancelled, which was always a good thing in Merlin’s book, from there, everyone’s moods seemed to deteriorate and with it, their day. Chores doubled for everyone, including him, Gaius had yelled at him at least twice on account of all the patients he'd had because of the snow, and the kitchens had been short-staffed, so the cook had been on a warpath against everyone all day. To top it all off, Arthur had received some sort of letter that afternoon, which Merlin still hadn’t had the chance to see, that seemed to send his mood downhill ever since.
For the moment, the general atmosphere in the castle seemed to have mellowed significantly. As evening fell, things seemed to settle. The great hall was filled with people at the moment. It wasn’t exactly a celebration, but they were all stuck inside and so the great hall slowly filled with nobles out looking for entertainment, servants joined soon after. Fires merrily burned in every corner and food and drink were going around. Soon, everyone’s spirits were back up.
All except Merlin’s sullen prince.
Merlin’s eyes fell on a group of people gathering around, falling into dancing pairs to the music a couple of musicians were playing. He watched as the soft music turned into something more cheerful and let his eyes slide over the crowd, returning them to Arthur’s figure sitting alone and watching the people with an unseeing look in his eyes.
It wasn’t a moment later that a person was in Arthur’s space; the third in the past hour, Merlin believed. Merlin watched as the man got waved away before he could get a sentence in. Merlin tried to sniffle his chuckle behind his hand. He knew it was going to be a fun evening. It was always good fun in his book, seeing nobility fumbling for a way to keep face when embarrassed by someone higher in rank.
Not a moment later, there was a new person with the prince. This one new to Camelot. Merlin didn’t know him well, he only knew that he was the son of some lord having arrived only recently to Camelot. He had hopes of joining the knights, if Merlin wasn’t mistaken. He'd heard Leon speak of him a while ago, saying he wasn’t too bad, but a privileged sheltered life had left him at a disadvantage if he wished to be a true fighter.
Merlin followed the conversation with his eyes. He couldn’t hear much. They were speaking softly and Arthur’s head was tilted away, casting half his face in shadow, so Merlin couldn’t catch his expression either. From the way he stiffly held himself though, Merlin knew Arthur was displeased by whatever his new company was saying. Merlin had to admire the man’s persistence, if anything, greater men cowered in front of less inhospitality from Arthur.
When Sir Would-Never-Make-It-into-Basic-Training finally moved away, Merlin’s thoughts of anything else halted in their tracks. He saw Arthur adjusting his seating position, leaning into his left side away from a hunting injury of a few days ago. Merlin was leaning into Arthur’s space before he could think.
“Your rooms are ready, if you wish to retire. My lord.” Merlin said, adding the title a little too late, mindful of the sharp look Arthur had given him when he started speaking.
Arthur was silent for a long moment, then he turned until he was looking Merlin in the eye. Expecting exasperation, Merlin found only weariness etched deep in the lines around Arthur’s eyes. “You don’t get to decide that, Merlin,” Arthur said evenly. Merlin knew he'd meant it to sound a lot more irritated, but instead it was soft and tired.
Merlin cleared his throat. “While I know how much it means to you to be sociable, sire,” Merlin whispered back. “I think the level of cheer in the room can survive you retiring early.”
Arthur didn’t laugh, but the corner of his mouth curled up and Merlin could tell he brought his cup up to his lips to hide it. Merlin ducked his head before Arthur could see his pleased smile.
After a quick side glare at Merlin that was entirely ruined by the ill-concealed amusement in his eyes, Arthur turned to scan the room quickly with his eyes. For a moment, Merlin could swear Arthur was looking for someone in particular, but before he could figure it out, Arthur was already up and heading out.
Arthur’s annoyed beckoning look over his shoulder was the only thing that had Merlin move to follow him out the door.
…
Arthur’s rooms were a welcome warmth against the chilliness of the castle.
They entered together. Merlin hadn’t been kidding when he said he had had the rooms ready. Judging from the way he paused at the door, it even caught Arthur off guard. Merlin tried not to smile too proudly. After all, he couldn’t have it become a habit.
“What do you know, you can be competent at something when you want to,” Arthur said, already gone to stand by the fire.
“It's the storm,” Merlin answered, unbothered. “They do say storms can make you do strange things.”
Arthur turned to look at him at that, staring at him like he did when he thought Merlin was being completely deranged. “Who says that?”
Merlin shrugged innocently, heading towards the wardrobe to pull out some sleeping clothes. Arthur must've noticed his smirk, however, because he said, “very funny,” before turning to gaze into the hearth like it held the secrets to the universe.
They were silent again as Merlin folded the clothes on the bed. For a long moment, there was nothing but the sound of the wind howling outside and logs burning filling the silence. It was almost comfortable, hadn’t Merlin been acutely aware of the tension emitting from Arthur. That was at least until Merlin heard Arthur softly exhaling behind him. He turned to see Arthur trying to seat himself gingerly on a chair nearest the fire, his expression momentarily twisting in pain.
“How's your wound?” Merlin asked, pretending to adjust a pillow and not like he was staring.
Arthur grunted as he twisted around in the chair, probably trying to find a more comfortable position but unable to, before he answered. “It's fine.”
Merlin knew that tone. He rolled his eyes and came over, bringing a candle over with him. “Here, let me see,” he said, placing the candle over the close-by table and kneeling beside Arthur’s chair, not giving Arthur enough time to protest.
Arthur’s only protest was a sigh, but he lifted his tunic off his side obediently. Merlin would've been disturbed by the compliance if the sight of blood hadn’t alarmed him. He had wrapped the wound with that bandage only that afternoon after cleaning it. It wasn’t a lot of blood, but he was certain Arthur burst at least one of his stitches.
Arthur hissed as Merlin touched the bandage and Merlin automatically adjusted his touch to a gentler one. He started to remove the cloth slowly.
“You really can't be going around giving me orders,” Arthur gritted out softly.
Merlin looked up. Arthur’s attention was on him so completely, it should've been unnerving, but wasn’t in the slightest. It felt good actually, being pinned in place but Arthur’s attention. “I can when it's physician’s orders.”
Arthur gave a snort that was cut short by a hiss of pain as the bandage came off in Merlin’s hands. “You're still not a physician yet, if I recall.”
Merlin didn’t answer in favor of closely observing the wound. He checked the stitches, careful to examine the area around them for any signs of infection. Thankfully, the stitches were intact and the wound was healing well, though only barely. Arthur had disturbed the wound to the point where it was certain to gap open if he wasn’t careful.
Sighing, Merlin gave the wound another critical look then got up to bring the basin of clean water on Arthur’s desk and the clean cloth beside it. He was soon back to the mission of cleaning the blood that escaped the wound as best as he could.
“I knew you should've skipped tonight’s festivities,” Merlin said quietly.
He had meant it for himself, but Arthur must’ve heard because his shoulders moved in a half-hearted shrug, but he didn’t argue. “Seeing you try to stifle your laughter at nobles embarrassing themselves is still good fun.”
Merlin smiled. He should’ve known Arthur would notice. “Watching Sir Would-Never-Make-It-into-Basic-Training was fun.”
“Who?” Arthur asked, then paused. “Oh, Badeaux? Why do you call him that?”
“Well, he's never going to join the knights now, isn’t he?”
Arthur was silent for a beat. “You know I don’t pick my knights based on favoritism, don’t you? If he's good, he's in.”
Merlin rolled his eyes as he continued cleaning the wound. “I know you don’t, but based on his behaviour, he's either too daft to gauge the mood of a simple conversation, or arrogant enough not to care. If the first, a daft knight is not really who you'd rather have on your side in a battlefield. If the second, he would be terrible at following orders to begin with. Besides, Leon thinks he needs to get over his privileged upbringing if he wants to be a good fighter. I couldn’t agree more.”
Arthur was silent again, long enough for Merlin to stop what he was doing and look at him once more.
Arthur was staring at him still. “You got all that from one conversation you couldn’t hear.”
Arthur didn’t make it sound like a question, only an observation so Merlin only shrugged. He concentrated on the wound under his hands. He decided only water wouldn’t do. He needed to make sure the wound wouldn’t get infected until Gaius could see it in the morning. He was returning the basin and the cloth to their place when Arthur spoke again.
“I don’t think there's much I can do about it anyway.”
Merlin turned towards Arthur to find him speaking into the fire. Before he could ask, however, Arthur went on, “Lord Badeaux was one of my father’s men during the Purge. He was tasked with gathering linages of families that possessed magic in their blood in Camelot.”
The basin almost slipped out of Merlin’s hands.
Arthur turned until his eyes met Merlin’s. Merlin didn’t know how he had missed it earlier, but that wasn’t only weariness in Arthur’s eyes, it was apprehension. He felt like he was being submerged into a tub of ice water at the realization.
Arthur was still looking at him when he said, “he now claims to have found a few linages he had missed before and father wants them.”
Merlin’s throat went dry and he had to clear it. “That’s insane. Just because someone had magic in their family once doesn’t mean—”
“I know,” Arthur interrupted quietly, looking away.
Merlin put the basin and cloth over the table slowly. So many people were going to die. Innocent people. It was insanity. He walked back to where Arthur was still sitting. “What are we going to do?” he asked, because he knew, despite everything, Arthur wouldn’t… he couldn’t let this happen.
Arthur didn’t look at him, thumbing his fist on his thigh repeatedly, as he said, “father is pretty set in his decision, but,” he paused. “I have reason to think that Lord Badeaux is trying to sell his favours elsewhere.”
Merlin was silent until it clicked. “The letter.”
Arthur nodded.
“Well, then that’s good, right,” Merlin started. “You can go to the King now. You can tell him—”
“I have no proof,” Arthur retorted, cutting him short. “Father will hardly listen to a bunch of rumours without concrete proof.”
“Then we’ll get one.”
“Maybe,” Arthur said and slowly got up, holding his side carefully as he made his way to the bed to sit down. “All I know is that Badeaux’s arrival here is not purely an attempt to join the knights. Something else is happening but I can't put my finger on what.”
Merlin had meant to speak further, to maybe try to come up with a plan, but whatever he had wanted to say escaped him completely. Arthur was laying back on the bed, a soft gasp escaping him as he reclined on the pillows, closing his eyes tightly. Merlin's every thought was replaced with what he was supposed to be doing. He quickly made a list of the supplies he needed to get to get Arthur through the night, deciding to add a painkilling potion to them. Everything else could wait.
“I'm going to get clean bandages,” Merlin said. Arthur opened his eyes weakly and blinked at Merlin for a moment, so merlin added, “and something to put on your wound to hold off any infection.”
Arthur didn’t say anything to that but Merlin could feel his eyes on him until he was out in the hallway
…
The castle was completely deserted as Merlin made his way through it. He hadn’t realized how late it had gotten. From the window, he could see the snow still falling quietly, glistening under the moonlight and covering the walking paths servants had been clearing up all afternoon.
Merlin sighed and moved away from the window. It looked like the next day was going to be just as bad as that one, but at least they knew what to expect. He made a mental note of making Arthur rest most of the next day. Considering that training and any activity outside the castle was going to be nearly impossible, he decided he had a pretty good shot. Maybe they could talk more about whatever was in Arthur’s letter too.
Merlin couldn’t help his thoughts from returning to the letter and Badeaux. He knew Arthur was going to do everything he could. After all, Arthur might share his father’s view on magic yet, but he would never allow the slaughter of innocent people who hadn’t even thought about touching magic. They just had to find proof, anything to confirm Arthur's theory.
Merlin shook his thoughts away as he pushed the door open to Gaius’ chambers. The rooms were dark, a single candle burning on a high shelf near Gaius' bedside, but it wasn’t hard to locate the potions he needed between Gaius’ supplies. As expected, Gaius was fast asleep, clearly exhausted from the day they had. Merlin collected all the items he needed as quietly as he could. He was on his way back to Arthur’s chambers in no time.
It was in the hallway nearest to the courtyard that he had heard it.
At first, the sound of footsteps echoing in the silence made him stop and turn. He paused until the sound became distinguishable as two people making their way behind him. The sound of people walking around at that hour in on itself wasn’t unusual considering guards tended to patrol at odd hours, it was the way the steps had stopped and whispers had started in their stead that caught his attention. Maybe it was pure habit, but Merlin couldn’t help taking a detour into one of the dark secluded archways. He listened.
“My father sent this?” the first voice asked.
“Yes, my lord,” the second replied in reverence. “We have set up everything as planned.”
“So when the soldiers arrive?”
“They’ll find evidence of magic in every house on the list.”
Merlin almost gasped audibly when he realized who was talking and about what. He covered his mouth with his hand to stop himself from breathing too loudly as his thoughts ran into each other. He forced himself to wait until the voices had quieted down into indistinguishable whispers and were soon replaced with the sounds of feet walking away. For a second, Merlin allowed himself to breath in the silence, waiting until he was sure he was alone.
He couldn’t believe it. It was the missing link they had been looking for. Arthur needed to know this-
Then there was a hand was on Merlin’s shoulder, and he was pulled from beneath the archway and pushed hard against a wall before he could blink.
Sharp pain shot from the base of his skull all down his back. A gasp of pain left his mouth involuntarily before he could open his eyes. When he did, the confused eyes of none other than Sir Would-Never-Make-It-into-Basic-Training-Because-I-Was-Right-About-Him gazed back at him. Merlin knew he must've hit his head pretty badly when all he could think of was how smug he could be when he tells Arthur.
Merlin blinked as his vision clouded over.
The hands holding Merlin pushed him roughly against the wall once more and he had to force his eyes open against the pain. It took a moment for his eyes to focus and for him to realize he was alone with Sir Bastard now. It took him another to realize the man was talking. He tried to listen over the blood whooshing in his ears but “…did you hear, boy?” was the only thing he managed to understand.
Merlin tried to concentrate through the pulsing pain in the back of his skull. “Nothing,” he wheezed automatically, years of practice over-riding his disorientation.
Judging from the way Sir Bastard paused, he didn’t believe it anyway, but he let Merlin go. Merlin barely managed not to fall and he held onto the wall behind his back. He knew he needed to run, or at least move, but he couldn’t get his legs to cooperate. Sir Bastard was still in his space anyway and, having a couple of inches over him, he was hovering over Merlin like a rapid dog. Merlin itched to throw him against the wall and break every bone in his body.
“You're the prince’s servant,” he finally said and smirked. “I saw you earlier, hovering over his shoulder, whispering in his ear.”
Not daft, Merlin thought. Just arrogant. Arrogant as a wild boar.
Too late, Merlin realized he had said that last part out load and a fist knocked his head against the wall so hard he saw stars. He might’ve hallucinated hearing “no-one will believe a servant anyway,” as the image of Sir Bastard moved away, but he wasn’t sure.
When he came to it, Merlin was sat propped against the wall in a deserted corridor. Only the glint of a ring on the floor made him smile against the sting in the back of his head.
…
“What took you so long?” Arthur’s irritated question greeted Merlin once he opened the door. Merlin would've laughed if he wasn’t already too exhilarated to tell Arthur what he’d found.
Arthur was still half-sitting on the bed, his back propped up by pillows, looking more disgruntled than he had been earlier. Merlin would've felt guilty hadn’t he had a very good reason for being late.
“You won’t believe what I found!” Merlin raved, practically running to Arthur’s bedside. He placed the supplies he brought on Arthur’s nightstand, which he had to return to Gaius’ chambers to replenish after the hallway incidence, and arranged them in order of what he was going to use first.
Arthur sighed as he watched Merlin work. “That you can take a nap in-between searching for potions?”
Merlin ignored the jab to sit on Arthur’s bed, automatically reaching out to his wound. “No—” he started but was cut off when Arthur’s hand closed around his wrist, stopping him mid-motion.
“What the hell happened to you?”
Merlin blinked from his wrist to Arthur’s wide stunned eyes. Then it clicked. His fight with Badeaux in the hallway. He must've looked like a mess. He ran his tongue over his lower lip and winced feeling a cut already swelling up there. “Well, Badeaux—”
“Badeaux? He did this?” Arthur asked in a thin voice.
Merlin ducked his head a little, feeling caught out even though he was the one who got beat up. He knew how it must've looked, picking up a fight with a would-be knight in the middle of the night after what Arthur told him. It didn’t look good. “Well, yeah,” he confessed, scratching the back of his head with his free hand, feeling Arthur’s grip tighten around his wrist. “I ran into him in the hallway earlier, and—”
Arthur was moving before Merlin could finish his sentence. Merlin was still blinking into the empty space Arthur had been occupying as Arthur ducked down below the bed, grabbing what looked like his boots from there.
“Arthur?” Merlin called carefully.
Arthur didn’t answer or look at Merlin in favor of putting on his boots like he didn’t have a barely held together wound to his side. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Merlin knew he needed to stop him, but he honestly couldn’t concentrate enough to move. Watching Arthur moving like a madman around the room was making him dizzy.
Arthur was standing by the table now, reaching for his coat. Merlin moved to put himself between Arthur and the table but Arthur didn’t budge.
“Merlin,” Arthur warned in his most dangerous voice that usually promised very bad things to whoever it was meant for. So, of course it didn’t work on Merlin. “Move,” Arthur commanded.
Merlin didn’t move an inch. “Not until you tell me what the hell you're doing.”
Arthur didn’t miss a beat. “I'm dealing with Badeaux,” he declared.
Merlin felt his mouth gap open. “Now?” was all he could think to say. Maybe he had hit head harder than he had originally thought because he honestly didn’t know what was happening anymore.
Arthur moved around Merlin, obviously taking advantage of Merlin standing too stunned to move.
When Merlin found his tongue again Arthur was putting his coat on. Merlin was asking before he could stop himself. “Have you gone mad?”
Arthur reached to grab his sword off the table.
“That would be a yes,” Merlin groaned.
Arthur’s response to that was a glare. He was by the door of his chambers by the time Merlin caught up with him.
“Arthur,” Merlin called again, this time placing his hand over Arthur’s on the door handle, imploring. “This is insane. You just said you couldn’t act without your father’s permission, remember?”
Arthur was refusing to look at him. “It doesn’t matter. Badeaux is leaving the castle tonight.”
Merlin sighed. So much for taking the time to gloat that he had been right. “Even after I show you this?” he said and pulled the ring out of his pocket, holding it in his palm.
Arthur’s eyebrows knitted impatiently as he stared from the ring to Merlin’s eyes.
“Look at the crest,” Merlin said and handed the ring to Arthur.
Merlin could see the recognition light up in Arthur’s eyes as he held the ring in the light. “Odin’s crest,” he mumbled in fascination.
Merlin smiled triumphantly. Once he was positive Arthur wasn’t going to bolt, he slowly told him everything he had heard in the hallway before Badeaux had found him. How it was all ploy, right down to the list of names Badeaux had to give to Uther. It was a plan to rid Camelot of important people, weaken it from the inside. Badeaux wasn’t trying to sell the names to someone else, he was getting the list sent to him from someone else. Whoever had sent Arthur the letter must've misunderstood what they had seen or heard.
“You can give this to the King,” Merlin concluded. “Tell him you have found it on Badeaux or something. I'm pretty sure you’ll find the list they were speaking of in his rooms anyway.” He took a breath, watching Arthur take everything in. “Now, will you please let me tend to your wound before you bleed to death over something so stupidly unimportant?”
Eventually, Merlin got Arthur to settle on the bed with little fuss.
Now, Arthur was laying down, pillows supporting his back. Merlin had made him drink the painkilling potion before he removed his tunic.
At that point, Merlin was ready to consider it a miracle if Arthur’s stitches were still intact, but as he examined the wound, somehow he found not a stitch out of place. Bless Gaius’ expert hands. The wound hadn’t even bled. So Merlin considered it a win and was back to his mission of cleaning it with proper supplies now, applying his ointments thickly over it.
“It’s not unimportant,” Arthur mumbled as Merlin laid clean bandages over his wound. He wrapped the cloth as delicately as he could.
“Hmm?” Merlin asked distracted as he gave the bandage a soft pat with his palm to make sure it was secure.
Arthur’s hand was on his, holding it in place over his side before Merlin could move it. “What he did to you.”
Merlin was completely lost. He lifted his eyes from their joined hands to meet Arthur’s. For a moment, the candlelight caught the intensity in Arthur’s eyes, knocking the breath out of Merlin so strongly that he couldn’t speak. He blinked when he finally caught on to what Arthur was talking about.
“Arthur,” Merlin began but didn’t know what to say.
Arthur’s other hand moved to Merlin’s face, silencing his words. Arthur’s thumb traced the cut on Merlin’s lower lip, following it with his eyes. Merlin winced and Arthur’s touch adjusted automatically to a softer one. Merlin resisted the urge to close his eyes and lean in.
“You should've let me go to him,” Arthur said in whisper. “Send him packing into the night.”
Merlin’s breath caught and he forced out a chuckle in an attempt to lighten the mood because the alternative was too frightening to consider; that Arthur would— “Yes,” he croaked. “I'm sure that would've set so well with your father.”
Arthur didn’t even smile. “I should've been there,” he said and tightened his grip around Merlin’s hand.
Now, that, that Merlin could understand. Arthur’s need to protect everyone—
“I'm sorry.”
The apology came sounding small but it knocked every thought out of Merlin’s head in one fell swoop. He was speechless, staring as Arthur brought their joined hands from his side and kissed them.
Everything stilled for a long moment as it all clicked into place. Arthur’s actions and everything he said all evening making sense. Arthur was upset on Merlin’s behalf, not over what Merlin’s done. Merlin felt it all coming together in his head, taking over every sense and making him chock up with it. He couldn’t think over the intensity of it all hitting him at once. The strength of how much he felt for this man laying before him, holding his hands and apologizing to him.
Merlin was leaning in before he could think. There was a small moment where he could breathe Arthur in, could see his eyes wide, focusing on Merlin’s lips, and then Merlin was kissing him. It started as soft meeting of lips, but soon Arthur was pulling him in, arms circling him, holding him still, close, lips opening, inviting Merlin in.
“Will you stay?” Arthur soon whispered the question against Merlin’s lips.
Merlin smirked against Arthur’s lips. “I thought that was not for me to decide, my lord.”
Arthur’s delighted chuckles got lost somewhere between the soft kisses Merlin trailed from his lips to his neck and back again.
…