More fic, because I have my AP U.S. History test, today! _

Merlin smiled as he watched the troop of dancers finish off their number in the middle of the floor. Ending in a beautiful stance with the flourish, the court applauded merrily.

He sighed.

A moment later, as they filed off the floor towards their seats - at the end of the tables, the most respectable place for them, common guests that they were - Arthur called out to his court, "And now, for a final performance for tonight, my Court Sorcerer, Merlin Emrys!"

The applause was a polite greeting clapping as Merlin stood up.

With a little concentration, he was standing in the middle of the floor without actually moving. Several people gasped, some were nervous, most were fascinated.

He hadn't even been Court Sorcerer for a year, after all.

He bowed towards Arthur, King, and Morgana, High Lady, and Guinevere, Queen, and Lancelot, the First Knight and the Queen's Champion.

Arthur rolled his eyes, and Merlin blushed, realizing he'd forgotten the order again - it was supposed to be Arthur, Gwen, Morgana, Lancelot. He'd just gone in a line, and really, why did it matter? It was rather annoying, them not sitting in order...

Luckily, most of the court hadn't noticed.

"Baerne!" Merlin cried out as he lifted the flames towards the torches into his hands, forming a ball at first. Remembering to actually say the spells was rather tiresome, but it, oddly enough, put people at ease, and looked better for entertainment purposes. Merlin never understood it, as he was pretty sure this was meant to show off his power. But really, it was more powerful for him to be able to do the spells without saying the words...

...but, appearance was power.

With an internal sigh, he morphed the flames until there were four flaming dragons in the air, a perfect rendition of the Pendragon crest. The four dragons then spread their wings, and Merlin moved them through a fairly simple but thankfully awe-inspiring dance in the air, ending with them each with their wings spread behind one of the four at the High Table - he just gave each of them the same one, seeing as bowing was tough enough - and roaring lowly, breathing flames, before dissipating into the air.

The Court's applause was much more enthusiastic, this time.

Merlin bowed again - just once towards the High Table, seeing as it was much harder to go wrong with that - before he vanished and rematerialized in his seat beside Morgana.

"You forgot the bowing order again," Morgana mused quietly.

"If you lot would sit in a line by your stupid rank..."

Morgana laughed as the veil dancers came back to the floor.

"I'm starting to feel like a show horse," Merlin complained that night as he, Arthur, Gwen, Morgana, and Lancelot walked up towards their chambers.

In the corridor leading to their rooms, Arthur laughed and said, "Welcome to my world."

"And I'm starting to regret being Queen," Gwen huffed.

Morgana rolled his eyes. "I love you, Gwen, but better you than me."

All five of them laughed.

Arthur and Gwen's chambers were on one side, Lancelot's on the other. Merlin and Morgana had their own respective towers.

("Really, Merlin, what is it with sorcerers and towers?"

"They're just nice, and no one else wants them!"

"Are you sure? I can't help but feel there's an ulterior motive to this."

"Says the bloody king!")

They all went to their own rooms. Merlin changed out of his ceremonial feast clothes - he really hated those things, they made him look ridiculous, no matter what Arthur said about how the stupid breeches framed his legs - and into his own garb, before transporting himself to Arthur's room.

It was empty, but Merlin could hear voices in Gwen's rooms. Inside, Arthur, Lance, and Gwen were standing over some maps of the kingdom, reports scattered over a table. All of them were in casual clothes.

"I still think Court clothes are stupid," Merlin said as he wandered in.

Arthur rolled his eyes.

"I think if we decrease the tax on livestock in the eastern villages until this cow plague passes, and increase it marginally in the north, we should manage to keep an equal amount without depleting the stores," Gwen said, looking down at the map critically.

"We will need to make an exception for the one in the mountains," Lancelot said. "They have managed to remain isolated from the disease so far, and if Essex does bring the conflict to war, we will need stores there the most."

Arthur nodded, writing something down, handing it to Lancelot. "Have these orders delivered tomorrow morning. For now, rest."

With that, Arthur returned to his own rooms with Merlin in tow.

Flopping down onto the bed, he sighed loudly and said, "This stupid thing with Essex is going to give me an ulcer."

Merlin laughed, climbing onto the bed, on all fours on top of Arthur. "You know I won't let that happen, right?"

Arthur rolled his eyes as his hands shot up to Merlin's waist. "Yes...now get out of these clothes."

"Prat."

"I'm the king, now, Merlin!"

"Royal Prat!" Merlin said gleefully, before leaning down to kiss his king.

The next day, Court was held, which was officially a discussion in the matters of state and unofficially a discussion about people's personal lives. Merlin, for the most part, stayed out of it, hovering around the fringes and watching and listening carefully. Most people tended to avoid him, as, while he no longer dressed like a servant, he didn't dress like a nobleman, either.

Not today, though.

Merlin smiled gently as a young woman from the night before came up to him and curtsied at him.

...so he still wasn't used to actually having a bloody status. He liked it better when people didn't notice him, damnit!

"Hello," she said, holding out her hand. "Allow me to introduce myself - I am the Dutchess Morwenna of Magonsaete, in Mercia."

"Nice to meet you," Merlin said, smiling. It was always nice to meet new people, even pretentious nobles in Court. He shook her hand and said, "I'm Merlin Emrys."

She smiled coyly. "I saw your...demonstration, last night, and thought it marvelous. Tell me, how did you do that?"

"Er," Merlin blinked in surprise. "Well, um, I just moved the flames around, to be honest. It just takes lots of practice for something that intricate."

Her smile grew benign. "Can you show me something right now?"

"Sure!" he said easily. He had no clue what her crest was, but he knew Mercia's was an eagle, and so he conjured up a small, flaming eagle in his hands.

She gasped in delight, and Merlin smiled.

The next day, Merlin was sitting out in one of the gardens when Morwenna came up to him again, sitting on the bench beside him.

"Is that about magic?" she asked curiously, gesturing daintily towards the book on his lap, with a slight confusion about her.

For some reason, sitting cross-legged on the stone benches really confused people. He still hadn't managed to figure that out.

"No," he said with a laugh. "Anatomy. I like to heal, but I need to know just what I'm healing. What's yours?"

She looked down at her book. "Ancient Roman Poetry," she said, in Merlin's opinion, rather stiffly.

"You don't sound like you enjoy it," he said.

"It is the proper literature for a lady of my station," she said congenially.

He shrugged. "Your loss, m'lady."

"My...loss?!" she said, sounding rather alarmed.

Merlin looked at her confusion. "Well...you really don't sound too fond of it. It's one thing to read something you don't like for a purpose, but poetry is something you're supposed to read for enjoyment...and you don't sound like you enjoy it. Defeats the purpose to me."

"Poetry of the ancient minds is something that my station requires me to be well versed in," she said, somewhat slowly, as if explaining something to a child.

Merlin smiled at her. "So you're just reading for purpose, then? Ruins poetry, in my opinion, making people read it when they don't like it. Do you like any poems in particular?"

"The First Eclogue of Virgil is a very fine example of Roman poetry."

"...but you didn't tell me whether or not you liked it," Merlin said. "You don't, do you?"

She spluttered. "It...it doesn't quite..."

Merlin sighed. "You nobles make no sense, you know that? You talk all about the romance of poetry, then take the romance right out of it by reading it when you hate it!"

She stared at him like he'd grown a second head. "Knowledge of these kinds of poems are invaluable to the growth of our mental well-being. It keeps our minds sharp and fit."

"Well, yeah, but if you wanted to keep yours minds sharp, learn something useful," Merlin said, rolling his eyes. Nobles never got this. "I mean, poetry is for lovers and romance, yeah, but if you're reading it and you don't like it, that completely defeats the point, don't you think?"

"I...see..." she said, slowly. "Well...I'm afraid I must be going, now."

And abruptly, she got up and left.

Merlin stared after her in confusion, before shaking his head.

Bloody nobles...

That night, Arthur sat on the bed with the latest border reports in hand, and Merlin curled against his side with his anatomy book in hand and remarked, "I had the oddest conversation with one of the courtiers, today."

"Oh?" Arthur asked, only half-paying attention.

"Yes. Yesterday Lady Morwenna - the Northumbrian Duchess? - introduced herself to while you were holding Court. Today, I was sitting in the gardens reading poetry when she came up to me and asked me about my book. I said anatomy, asked her about hers, and she said poetry, but she didn't sound like she liked it, so I asked her if she did, and she didn't seem to understand what I was asking..."

Merlin trailed off as he realized that Arthur was staring at him intensely.

"She came up to you in the gardens with a book of poetry?!"

"Um, yes?" Merlin asked. "What is it with you nobles and poetry?"

Arthur dropped the parchments in favor of letting his face fall into his hands in exasperation. "Merlin, you idiot, she's courting you!"

He frowned. "What? Why would anyone want to court me? I've got big ears and I'm skinny and stuff-OW!" The last part he exclaimed as Arthur hit him upside the head.

"You're the Court Sorcerer, Merlin - you would be a valuable husband!"

He blinked. "Right..."

Arthur shook his head.

"So I'll just tell her to stop?" Merlin offered.

"That will be taken as an offense, Merlin."

"Then how do I turn her down?"

"You show disinterest in anything more than completely platonic activities," Arthur said.

"...poetry's not platonic?" he asked.

Arthur slapped his own face in exasperation.

"Just...don't accept her marriage offer, Merlin, if she makes one."

"...right."

A few days later, after several strange run-ins with the lady, Merlin gave up on Court tact.

"Milady," he asked politely one day when he caught a moment alone with her. "I have to ask - are you courting me?"

She looked at him, startled. "Well, I...why, I..."

"...because I'm not really husband material or anything and I'm really not interested in marrying a woman, anyway," Merlin said. "So, just, friends? Because I'm really not good at Court politics and stuff, either, and this entire debacle with you has driven me insane...no, no!" he said, seeing the speculative look on her face. "It's nothing against you, personally - it's just, well, me. Please, don't take it personally? I know you courtiers look for double meanings in every damn word, but really, I'm not a courtier, so I don't count, so please, just-"

"I must leave, Emrys," she said, formally. "I...I thank you for your...fair warning. And I will not take it as an insult."

With that, she hurried away.

He sighed. He knew he messed up something, in there...

He had thought this sort of thing was behind him, now, but a few weeks later, it started all over again.

This time, a young lord came up to him.

"Merlin Emrys, I believe?" he asked.

"Yes, that's me," he said cheerfully. "And you?"

"Siorus," the man said pompously, holding out his hand at an angle open to either shaking or kissing. "Lord of Deira, Second in line for the Duke of Bernicia, and third cousin once removed from the King of Northumbria."

"That's nice," Merlin said, cheerily, and internally grinned at the man's spluttered at Merlin's nonchalance. This was always fun. Shaking the man's hand amicably, he said, "Well, you already know my name - Merlin Emrys, Court Sorcerer of Camelot and Best Cow Milker of Ealdor."

It was never actually an official title - though, incidentally, Merlin was quite talented when it came to milking cows, a skill Arthur now utilized in their bed - but saying it like it was usually gathered an interesting reaction from high-minded nobles.

Like Siorus, for instance. Right now, he was staring at Merlin like he'd not only grown a second head, but one that was blue and possibly belonged to a fish.

"Best...Cow Milker..." he said hesitantly.

Merlin nodded. He knew it wasn't exactly a proud skill, and while it was useful, it was nothing special.

But he didn't know that.

"I'm quite good with my hands - it's all about getting the angle of the slides and tugs, right. But, once you get the hang of it, you get the white gold from the body quite pleasantly."

He also wasn't above injecting pointless innuendo and making it seem like he was completely innocent, either.

The man spluttered, made his excuses, and left.

"So," Arthur said that night. "I heard you had a most...interesting...conversation with Lord Siorus, today?"

Merlin laughed, stretching out on the bed after abandoning his book on the bedside table. "Yeah - he was being a pompous ass, worse than you, and that's really saying something!"

Arthur quirked an eyebrow at him.

"Anyway - I basically just acted like an innocent little commoner to scare him off," Merlin said.

"...riiiiight," Arthur said, stiffly.

Merlin frowned at the tone of voice, propping himself up and turning his head towards Arthur's desk. "What?"

Arthur sighed. "He only recently inherited his estates, which are very...unstable, to say the least, in ownership. A marriage, period, will work in his face...a marriage with someone as powerful as you..."

Merlin frowned. "Are you trying to tell me that men are going to try and court me?! I didn't even know that was possible!"

Arthur shook his head, standing up and striding over to the bed. Climbing on it, he said, "Even a particularly strong friendship with you would be beneficial to him. Anything else..."

Merlin rolled his eyes. "You nobles are all crazy."

"I believe you've said it."

Merlin smiled. "So long as you get the message."

Arthur shook his head and leaned down for a kiss.

The real problem came when he was actually offered some lord's daughter's hand in marriage.

Lord Brychan was a warlord, really, who came into his nobility almost by accident. He did have a rather nice looking daughter named Eleri, who looked like a female twin of Lancelot. They had a lot of land which was barely stable, fraught with commoner uprisings, and they bred a lot of horses. Merlin was pretty sure they were the source of one of the higher knight's horses - maybe even Lancelot himself, though he wasn't sure.

And, well, that was about it.

So the man's request to meet Merlin threw him for a loop. Of course, Merlin invited the man to his chambers, already sensing that whatever was going on was going to put him ill at ease. He might as well return the favor.

"Welcome, Lord Brychan," Merlin said easily, opening his door and gesturing his arm towards his main room with a flourish. "I hope we can share a good meal, today."

Eh - close enough to proper protocol or whatever. It wasn't like his complete and utter disinterest for them was a secret or anything...

"Thank you, Lord Emrys," the man said, and Merlin's eyes widened and he nearly choked at that.

"Er, I'm not a-"

"Lord? Yes, I've heard of your rejection of the title," the man said congenially, gaze roving nervously around Merlin's chambers. The main room was pretty much like Gaius' room, tables and tables of works and stills and cauldrons, except much of it was blatantly magical in nature, some things working of their own accord, small colored glass orbs with unlit candles inside floating around aimlessly near the ceiling. There was a second level to this room, a small spiral staircase in a corner leading to the deck protruding from the walls well above the main floor, broad and strong and projecting inwards from the entire considerable circumference of the tower. This was ringed by large windows, the door to the surrounding outdoor balcony, and several bookshelves overflowing with the knowledge of thousands of intellectuals, and a few more purely-academic work tables, too.

Gaius had been a bad influence on Merlin, he was sure of it.

No one else believed him, except occasionally when Arthur would traipse into the room and come across Merlin surrounded by papers and books, and would concede - Merlin would count it as a victory, except then Arthur would take Merlin hunting or something in an effort to even the score.

The man looked completely bewildered by the rooms. Merlin fought down the urge to snort at the way he studied a pile of scrolls precariously balanced on a table near the door to Merlin's private chambers.

"Well," the man said, taking the seat Merlin offered. "You certainly live in an...interesting environment, Lord Emrys."

Merlin sighed as he shut the door. "Really, please, just Emrys - I'm not a Lord."

"King Arthur has granted you that title for the favor you hold him," the man said sagely. "Even if you have no land, and no property besides what this room holds, the favor you hold with the King and your position in the Court and Council grant you that title."

"I know," Merlin said. "But, really, apart from official functions, there's no reason for me to actually be addressed as one. Don't worry, I'll use the proper titles for others, including you. And, lunch will be a few minutes along, I believe."

The man nodded. There was a few moments of silence as Merlin sat at the table opposite of him, clear away some papers magically - some people still got nervous around magic, and Brychan was no exception.

"Lord Emrys," Brychan said after a moment. "I have been led to understand that you are quite a direct man, along with..."

"My eccentricity?" Merlin offered congenially. Growing up, he'd seen the strange people around the village and around Camelot, the eccentrics whose eclectic lifestyles left him permanently baffled.

He never thought he'd be one of them.

Brychan nodded stiffly. People in Court are supposed to dislike oddness. Merlin was quite proud of his. So was Arthur. And Gwen, and Lancelot, and Morgana, of each other and themselves.

The Court was still adapting and simultaneously succeeding and failing miserably at it. It was quite funny, actually.

There was a small ding from a bell in the corner, making the man jump, and Merlin laughed, getting up. "Not to worry, not to worry - it means our lunch is prepared."

Brychan's jaw scraped the floor when Merlin stood, hands outstretched, over the little table in the corner with the bell, and a moment later, a large lunch tray with two plates appeared.

"What...how did-"

"I have a system in place with the kitchens," Merlin said congenially as he levitated it over to their dining table. The man's eyes were locked on the tray as it settled down, before the plates and cutlery floated to their appropriate places before the diners, and the knife stuck itself out of the small slab of venison. "There's a matching table and bell down there - two, actually - and for my meals, all they do is set the meal on the table, ring the bell, and mine will correspond accordingly. I can take care of transporting it from there, myself - along with the Lady Morgana, for whom the other table is for. Considering the locations of our chambers, we found this system most agreeable for the serving staff and ourselves."

The man nodded dumbly, probably not hearing, focused as he was on the serving fork and knife working to slice the venison. Merlin floated slice after slice onto the man's plate until he said enough, and put a considerable amount on his own plate after.

Brychan quickly took the rest of his food by hand. Merlin continued levitating his, fighting constantly to not snort or outright laugh at the gobsmacked expression on his face. Really, this was just too fun, and far too easy.

After that, Merlin gave up the magic, if only because he'd never get to eat from suppressing his laughter. For the first part of the meal, he and Brychan kept the topic largely to the subject of the upcoming tournament and who they thought would win.

However, the man was right, Merlin, not a fan of court politics, was a fairly straightforward man.

"Lord Brychan," Merlin said, setting his fork down carefully after finishing up his last bite of venison. "This has been a pleasant lunch, but as you mentioned, I'm a very direct man." There, proper and Courtly and everything. Arthur would be so proud. "I understand that there is a purpose to this visit, and to be quite frank, I believe we can both save ourselves a lot of trouble if you were to get directly to the point.

The man sighed, setting down his own fork, as well. "You are correct. I understand it that you have been having some difficulties with courting propositions?"

...what the hell?!

Swallowing, Merlin was about ready to ask that, before remembering: decorum. Decorum was Very Important, for whatever bizarre reasons the courtiers have managed to come up with.

"What, exactly, have you heard?" Merlin asked.

"Just that misfortune has met some of the young nobles who had courted you," Brychan said, blithely, picking up his fork again and resuming his eating, talking between bites. At least the bites were small and quick, unlike some of the more unpleasant nobles Merlin has been forced to deal with. "A...a type of failure, so to speak, due to your...eccentricities."

"How so?" Merlin asked. He hadn't heard anything of this sort.

"Well - for one, Lady Morwenna, a few weeks ago, had suddenly ended a several month stay here to go home, and it is well known she spent a considerable amount of time planning to marry you."

And he was just learning about this now?

"Yes, well, she had been quite confused as to why you rejected her, apparently. When the king revealed that it had been because of her interests clashing with yours, the instability of her land lending to her desperation, and the rumors of her infertility, that your claims of not needing an heir were unrelated to whether or not you wanted one, well...combined with word of some of your additional...eccentricities, she had to leave Camelot in quite a shame."

"Ah...ha," Merlin said. He'd said outright his reasons for rejection. And really, he'd never kept his disdain of abusing fine literature for politics a secret, not to mention he has never expressed any desire for an heir.

"Not to mention that nasty business with Lord Siorus," the man said after finishing off the bread and tucking back into the venison.

"What, exactly? I want to simply make sure that we are...are on the same page here, so to speak."

The man smiled benignly and nodded. "Well...as you might've likely heard by now, after a conversation with you, something you said unnerved him, to the point that he readily volunteered to go to the front of the border conflict with Mercia. Nearly killed there, and will likely never regain full use of his leg - not to mention there's a chance he..." and here, the man coughed politely. Out of respect, of course. "May never quite be able to sire an heir for his estates and title."

Merlin's eyes nearly narrowed until he remembered Brychan was still looking at him.

"Right," he said.

He knew for a fact that none of the knights had actually volunteered for that conflict - the men had been in such a rush that Arthur picked a few at random before riding off with them for the short campaign.

And he also knew that Siorus was a relatively new knight. He would not be familiar, yet, with all the intricate maneuvers needed for the small-range conflicts like these, and the intensity of the battle would offer little to no teaching relevance for him as a knight.

In other words, with a few exceptions, he was the last man for this job, and Arthur would never pick a knight like him for this kind of campaign if he could help it.

While Brychan was looking down at his plate, Merlin's eyes flashed gold, and a moment later, a wind chime started chiming with no breeze.

This time, when Brychan jumped in alarm, Merlin could find no amusement from it.

"I'm sorry, Lord Brychan," Merlin said, standing up as if he had just been given an urgent summons by possibly the king himself. (Though it was, incidentally, the king he was going to see). "I'm afraid I have urgent business to attend to. Perhaps we can continue this some other time."

"...yes, yes, of course," Brychan said, still awestruck by the chimes. Merlin flicked his fingers to still them.

"I'm sorry to have to request this so brashly, but you will need to exit my chambers while I am not here. Some of the items in here can become quite volatile, and dangerous without a sorcerer present to handle it, and I refuse to jeopardize anyone's safety by allowing them to remain here unattended."

The man seemed only too happy to have a reason to jump up and leave.

Merlin mentally sent a message to Morgana saying that he would be indisposed, and waited crosslegged on the bed in Arthur's chambers.

Looking around, he mentally shook his head at the surroundings. When Arthur had become king, he had never actually moved into the king's chambers like he was supposed it, keeping his own room. He simply declared his own rooms the new king's chambers, and kept his father's in reserve for visiting foreign kings.

Arthur could be strange like that.

He heard footsteps outside, and a moment later, the door opened, and Arthur came inside the room, as Merlin knew he would've after the council meeting.

"Merlin?" he asked, raising an eyebrow and sounding pleased as he closed the door. However, he took one look at Merlin's most displeased face and said, "What's wrong?"

"I was recently told that Lady Morwenna, upon my 'rejection' of her, was led to believe that I rejected her because of 'clashing interests', because her land was unstable, and because there were rumors of her infertility about and that just because I had already said I didn't need heirs or children didn't mean I didn't want any. And according to Lord Brychan, it was 'the king' who led her to believe this."

Arthur swallowed, leaning heavily against the table as his jaw hardened. Merlin sat up straight, voice growing angrier by the second.

"And, I believe that Siorus was 'so unnerved', that he somehow managed to volunteer for a campaign in which you ignore volunteers and handpick the knights. And you picked him even though he's a new knight, and one of the worst for a campaign like this, and now he may never completely regain use of his leg, and his ability to sire heirs has come under scrutiny!"

Arthur didn't move, so Merlin said simply, "What the hell, Arthur?!"

"I...you're mine," Arthur growled, eyes dark in a possessiveness which normally never failed to turn Merlin on.

Actually, this was no exception - it's just that Merlin's rage outweighed his lust.

"They were innocent people, Arthur!" Merlin said. "They were just looking to further their own standings, much like you already do! They didn't deserve to-"

"They were trying to take you!" Arthur snapped. "That was bad enough."

"Well with all your secrecy, it's not like they knew I was yours, now did they?"

And here, they reached a stalemate.

Arthur shut his eyes and breathed deeply. "That doesn't mean...I can't...it doesn't..."

Merlin took a deep, measured breath. Killing your king never ends well, no matter how much of a prat he is...

"Fine, pull the jealous husband act!" Merlin cried out. "But for god's sake, don't take it out on them! They have done nothing wrong. How the hell do you think I felt having to stand by and watch you chase one woman after another for years on end in your service?"

Arthur flinched back from Merlin's accusations.

"I never did a thing. I helped you! And apart from when they were hurting you, I never touched the women you went after, or who went after you."

"...I know, Merlin-"

"Do you?" he cried out. "Do you really? Because I don't think you do. What happened to not showing any kind of favoritism? When did you become your father without me noticing?"

Arthur flinched and stepped back, seeming almost horrified at the accusation.

He should be.

Except...Merlin saw the hurt in Arthur's eyes.

He sighed. "Don't, just...don't own me."

"I don't-"

"Yes, you do - you're trying to," Merlin said. With a sigh, he got up off the bed and left, making sure to side step Arthur's shocked-still form.

"Don't wait up for me, tonight," Merlin said. "I'm sleeping in my own chambers."

And he left.

Merlin could barely sleep that night. While the bed was cold from being alone, he himself was warm, almost sweating, still furious with Arthur.

Arthur was an enigma, unsurprising considering he was king. He was simultaneously the most arrogant and insecure person Merlin knew, and it was a daily battle to deal with both ends.

All his life, he knew he would be the best prince, the best king, and yet that never stopped him worrying how he was doing. All his life, he knew his father loved him, yet he never stopped fighting for Uther's praise and approval. All his life, he knew he could have any woman he wanted (at least as a lover), and yet he always fought for Gwen's approval, for Merlin's attention...he knew Arthur was afraid of losing him.

But that gave Arthur no right to own him.

Especially not considering his own romantic past. How Merlin had never said a word of his own desire while Arthur chased after other women, even other servants, and loved Gwen. He never got enraged or furious when Arthur continued to flirt with others while with Merlin, and he certainly never had a problem with Arthur loving Gwen as well as him. And despite what common lore may advise, Merlin had no problem sharing Arthur with Gwen, or, considering their unique circumstances, flirting with others, still.

He took issue with the fact Arthur refused to return the favor.

Giving up sleep as a lost cause, he got up, donned his dressing robe, and wandered into his laboratory chambers, wryly eying the table where he'd just had lunch with Brychan earlier in the day.

He stood before the new crystal he'd gotten as a birthday gift from Morgana, touching it, pushing his magic through it and running it over the herbs, testing its power to detect magical properties in them. He spent over an hour writing down his observations - er, writing down what he saw, because he refused to let Gaius that much into his brain - and lost himself into the work. Mostly. He still couldn't help but simmer in anger at Arthur's treatment of the innocent people, as if they were expendable. He wondered what Arthur would've done if they hadn't been so expendable...

His hand nearly froze when the idea came to him.

Oh, this was going to be brilliant.

It started with Eleri, Brychan's daughter. A few days later, he met the Lord again, this time with his daughter, and met was met with the subject directly.

"Are you interested in marrying her?" Brychan asked.

Merlin turned to Eleri. "Anything to say on the matter?"

"A match with you would be an honorable one, Lord Emrys," she said benignly, bowing her head.

Merlin sighed. "I know as nobles, this seems like a completely foreign concept, but when I marry, it will not be for poltics, but love and personal friendship."

They gave Merlin a sharp look at he continued. "Due the unlikelihood of my magic passing on to my child, I'm not depending on an heir, but a future apprentice. I have no need for land or for money or for any other kinds of wealth or property. Marrying purely for my own desires is a luxury I can well afford, and one I am content to keep - especially since, despite my power, I really do not have much, or anything at all, that I can directly bring to a marriage. I'm happy to be your friend, but I have little more interest than that."

Brychan sighed morosely. "So that's a no, then?"

"That's a no."

He nodded, twisting his lips as he got up.

Eleri remained seated for just a moment longer, before she looked up, straight into Merlin's eye, and said, "Even if I won't be your wife, I would like to be your friend."

Merlin smiled while gazing directly back. "I would like that too, m'lady. I would like that very much."

So they did remain friends.

The next day, when Merlin was reading a new book on magic in the gardens, in his usual favorite spot, and Eleri came up and sat down beside him, she had a book of her own in her hands.

"Is that a magic book?" Eleri asked curiously.

Merlin nodded. "Druids and their types of magic. Yours?"

"Roman history," she said. "Their Courts and politics and the likes."

"You enjoy it?"

"Yes, somewhat," she said, smiling in a knowing way. "Not so much as the subject itself, as that I like studying the politics of these civilizations."

In Merlin's eyes, she already was much higher than Morwenna.

"I've never learned about Druids, obviously, considering Uther's laws - what are their hierarchies like, their politics?" she asked, without genuine interest in her voice.

As Merlin launched into a full description of the Druid relations, he glimpsed up at the windows, to see a blond head staring down at them from a familiarly located one near the top.

When Eleri spoke of the Roman politics she was reading about, Merlin shot a smug grin towards Arthur's watching gaze.

Arthur turned away.

A few days after, Merlin invited Lady Alys to his rooms for lunch.

For a while, they talked idly of the markets and trades on her fief, before she smiled and coyly asked, "Are you courting me, Lord Emrys?"

"Not quite," Merlin said, smiling easily. "Making a new friend, little more."

She nodded, accepting of this. While he offered her his arm as they walked out, she didn't seem surprised or to expect anything of it.

When they walked past Arthur in the corridor, Merlin met Arthur's confused and furious gaze with his own challenging one.

If he tried anything with Lady Eleri, he would lose Lord Brychan as an ally. And losing contact with Lady Alys meant losing a fief rich with artisan trades, and much wealth for the kingdom.

Merlin walked away with Lady Alys still on his arm.

Sir Driant was a knight who was once a commoner himself. Still a somewhat rare specimen among the ranks, he was a good friend of Merlin's, and he, besides Lancelot, was one of the main sources of new knights from commoners, encouraging those good with swords or other weapons to try out.

That day, when Merlin went out to watch the knights, it was Driant's pavilion he settled himself into.

"Merlin!" the man said happily as he neared, after end of training. Merlin stood up easily, and when the man was in the pavilion, he magically flicked the curtains to make it into a tent, before helping the man out of his armor.

"How goes the other common knights?" Merlin asked.

Driant sighed. "The knights themselves are largely accepting, but the squires are the problem."

And while Merlin unsuited him and helped him dressed, then walked out with him, they discussed the problem.

Merlin leaned closely, almost intimately, against Driant, as they walked.

Arthur's gaze was furious, but controlled. While Driant momentarily looked away, Merlin shot him a smug look.

Arthur's eyes narrowed as Merlin and Driant moved on.

After that, Merlin was invited to the Baron Jonathon's chambers for lunch.

Of course, Jonathon did actually have a secondary reason for it - "My sister's handmaiden's daughter is a sorceress, apparently - they both want her trained in magic to help protect my niece, one day."

Merlin smiled. "Are you asking me to train her?"

"That would be wonderful," Jonathon. "And if not - your library on magic is legendary. I would be willing to pay handsomely for any books you can spare. My sister is willing to teach the girl how to read."

Merlin nodded. "No need to pay - all I need is a few blank journals and some inks on hand, and I can copy a book in its entirety in just a few minutes with magic."

"If I can bring you the journals, the inks, will you do it?"

"Happily," Merlin said, almost grinning, now. "After Uther's reign blockading magic, I'm always very pleased to spread the most knowledge I can. While I can't take her on as an apprentice because of my duties, I would easily be able to give her a few lessons if she is ever at Court. The Lady Morgana would also be happy to speak with her, I'm sure, and in terms of protecting your niece, I believe even Queen Guinevere would be happy to speak with her."

"Queen Guinevere?" he asked in surprise, raising his eyebrows.

Merlin nodded. "It is no secret that she much more versed in the art of swordcraft than any woman should be. What isn't as well known is that when she was young and Lady Morgana's maidservant, a large part of her motivation was to be better able to help or protect Morgana. And for many years, she did so."

They continued talking about magic in general, to the point that after they finished lunch, they continued talking as they walked, through the castle and out into the courtyard. They spent hours discussing magic in and out of Camelot, its history, its impact, and discussing the little girl herself.

Inside, they walked by the council chambers as they were dismissed. Jonathon greeted several councilors and nobles outside, and bowed to the king.

Arthur stiffly greeted him back.

Merlin's gaze dared him to try something.

Arthur didn't.

"Must you, Merlin?" Arthur asked quietly at a feast that night.

They were standing, socializing and occasionally dancing. Lancelot was joking around with some other knights while Gwen and Morgana danced, and Arthur had just caught Merlin in a quiet corner after Merlin had spent a better part of the feast entertaining several noblemen and women, and even more servants, chatting, giggling - flirting.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Merlin said, almost haughtily.

"The entire Court has noticed your flirting, even though they all know you have no plans for marriage," Arthur said, sounding like he was holding himself back from speaking.

"Your point?" Merlin asked.

"I...I wish to make sure no one oversteps their liberties with you."

"You mean you don't want to share me."

Arthur's jaw clenched.

"What are you playing at, Merlin?" he hissed.

Merlin's face hardened over. "A taste of your own medicine."

He walked away before Arthur could respond, immediately running into Sir Michael, and letting himself be drawn into a conversation about how to fight magic with normal weapons.

Arthur's eyes never left him that night.

This time, Merlin had to work to make himself count that as another victory.

That night, as Merlin was pandering about his lab, trying out a new anti-poison recipe Gaius found, Merlin sighed to himself as he heard sharp knocking the door, then it opening, behind him.

"Take a seat," Merlin called out, knowing who it was.

"No," Arthur growled behind him.

The door closed, there were nearing footsteps, and then Arthur was beside him, then across from him at the table.

Merlin continued chopping and stirring for the potion.

"Why?!" Arthur asked hoarsely.

Merlin didn't respond.

"Merlin!"

He still didn't say anything.

Arthur's fist suddenly slammed down on a free spot on the table.

"Damnit, Merlin, why?! I've been watching you spend the last several weeks whoring yourself out-"

"Whoring myself out?" Merlin shouted, looking up at Arthur. "Since when did my flirting becoming scandalous while your rampant relationships as Prince were acceptable?"

Arthur didn't respond, until, "You've been flirting with people who I can't hurt."

"Yes," Merlin hissed. "Because they aren't so expendable. I have no issue with sharing you if I must, Arthur - but that does not mean I can be just another conquest for you to own."

"I'm not trying to own you!"

"Then what, what are you trying to do?" Merlin growled, slamming down his ingredients.

Arthur sighed, shoulder slumping as he brought up his hands to scrub at his face.

Merlin's heart clenched at the sight of his king looking so utterly defeated, that he nearly reached out to rub away Arthur's worries from his strained muscles right then and there, but barely managed to hold himself in check.

"I'm trying to make sure I don't lose you," Arthur said, hoarsely, sounding like he, himself, was also holding back, but holding back tears.

Merlin frowned. "...lose me?"

"Yes," Arthur said. "I may be king, but...there is so much that everyone else can offer, compared to me. I..." Arthur's breathing and voice wavered, as he refused to look up from his hands.

Merlin just stared.

"If someone offers to marry you...someone who you can love so openly, someone who can give your affections I can't afford, someone who can and will devote their whole heart to you, someone who can give you land and wealth and...I can't fight against that, Merlin."

Arthur's hands dropped, but so did his head.

"I can't compete against that."

Merlin's stare was perplexed, before shouting out, "You daft fool!", and promptly smacking Arthur upside the head.

The man flinched, jerking his head up to look at Merlin in askance.

"Did you really think that just because I might meet someone I would leave you at the drop of a hat?" Merlin cried out. "You stupid clotpoll, I love you. I know you always have trouble believing when people love you, I really do, but his is just ridiculous! I've given my life for you, and you for me. Our futures are tied together, and I don't know how many times I will have to say this, but I will say it as often as I need to, to drill this into your thick skull: I'm yours. Not to be owned, but to love and be loved. I will always be by your side."

Arthur's face crumbled, and his hand shot out to take Merlin's hand into his own.

"...promise?" he asked, nearly whispered, so quiet and small in the grand scheme of Merlin's lab, so meek and desperate...

Merlin, never letting go of Arthur's hand, walked around the table, bending his arm over his things, until he was standing by Arthur, then wrapped around the man, resting his chin on Arthur's shoulder, utilizing his height for once, as he pulled Arthur's back flush against his chest, the hand in Arthur's wrapping around his hip, the other around his shoulders.

"You're mine just as much as I'm yours," Merlin said. "I share you because I know that in the end, I will get you back. You need to share me if you want to get me back, too, Arthur. But I'm always here. I always have been, and always will be."

Arthur smiled and nodded, turning to press his face against Merlin's shoulder. "Fine. Just...fine."

Merlin grinned, before stepping back.

"Now - I need to finish this up. Go wait on my bed, and I'll be along soon."

Arthur looked reluctant, still clutching tightly onto Merlin's hand.

"...or stay," Merlin said, turning back to his work, gently pulling his hand from Arthur's grip. "But don't complain about the smell."

As he worked, he smiled as this time, Arthur wrapped himself around Merlin, hands joining in front of Merlin's waist, his chin resting on Merlin's neck. Merlin turned to give him a brief kiss, before pulling away with a teasing smile and quickly returning to his work.

And true to form, only a few minutes in...

"Good, god, Merlin, don't tell me people are expected to consume this thing with that kind of an odor!"

Merlin rolled his eyes and swatted Arthur's arms, and Arthur nipped Merlin's ear in retaliation.

But he didn't leave.

A while later - a little more than expected, but not much, and despite constantly complaining about what Merlin was making, Arthur never left, or wanted to - Merlin was charming the potion to hold until dawn, and leading Arthur to his bedroom.

Inside, was the desk, another shelf of books and scrolls, and a wardrobe and his bed, among other things. It was a bed fit for a queen, taken from one of the older royal chambers that hadn't been inhabited in decades, before his father was king even, and Merlin hardly ever used it.

He pushed Arthur back on it, vanishing all their clothes away, climbing on top of his stupid prat, kissing his stupid prat, starting from the navel and working his way up, ending with his mouth, their tongues sparring, their lips claiming.

Merlin summoned a vial of oil he'd made himself from the bedside table, letting it pour oil on his hand, before it floated away.

He reached down, and gently ran his finger down Arthur's crease, looking into his eyes. Arthur nodded, and Merlin pressed a finger into Arthur's hole.

His head slammed back and Arthur whimpered, legs shooting up to wrap around Merlin, hold him, keep him close, own him.

When Merlin slid himself into Arthur, Arthur pulled his legs tight around Merlin's waist, making him slam in, and moaning as he did so.

"Merlin," he breathed out once, before they started moving against each other, weeks of frustration guaranteeing that they wouldn't last long at all.

Merlin wrapped his arms around Arthur as he moved, kissing his chest, his collar, his shoulders, his neck, his jaw, his cheeks, his eyes, his face, his lips, lips, lips-

"Arthur," he breathed into Arthur's ear, hooking his own leg to left Arthur's bottom a little, making sure his angle would hit Arthur in that spot every time. "I'm here. I'm here I'm here. I'm right here."

"Merlin!" Arthur sobbed as he came.

And Merlin, like always followed his king.

Dawn found Merlin waking up sticky and sated in his bed, smiling as he stared down at Arthur's face in his arms. Arthur had, at one point during the night, managed to curl around Merlin like a cat around a ball of twine, without waking him, and Merlin had woken up wrapped around with Arthur's arms and legs, Arthur's face pressed into his neck.

He rolled his eyes.

"Daft, you are," Merlin murmured, before craning his neck to kiss Arthur on the forehead.

Arthur shifted in his sleep, skin simmering in the sunlight, and pulled Merlin closer in his sleep.

Rolling his eyes, Merlin settled himself back to sleep, as he's promised Arthur.

It wasn't like he was going anywhere else but Arthur's side.

~Fin~

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