Disclaimer: We do not own Merlin.

Chapter Three

This whole hunting bit was not going well for Arthur. He felt off for some reason, like the forest had turned against him. Every trail he followed vanished quickly, only to reappear in a seemingly random direction. He would've accused Merlin of doing something warlock-y and highly illegal, but the servant notoriously loathed these excursions with Arthur and his Knights, and as such had no reason to prolong their trip. The boy had been oddly quiet after the first hour or so of trudging around carrying Arthur's crossbow when he sidled up to the Prince.

"We should go home, Arthur," he said seriously. "I don't like the feeling of these woods."

"The feeling of 'these woods'?" said the blond archly, ignoring the twinge in his gut. "As opposed to the other woods we usually hunt in?"

"You know what I mean," the boy snapped. "Come on. I've just—you should trust me on this." Arthur shifted uncomfortably.

"Look, Merlin," he said, bringing the servant to the side. "Just because I know about your…thing now doesn't mean I'm going to go out of my way to make you feel better every time you get a tingle." Merlin glared at him.

"It's not—I don't get tingles, Arthur," he hissed. "Something is wrong here, and I can feel it and you're not listening to me."

"Everything alright here, sire?" Arthur turned to Sir Owen, who had been drawn over by Merlin's rapidly rising voice.

"Yes, thank you, Owen," said the prince curtly. "You'd think that the princess here would be used to walking by now, but alas, he's still Merlin."

"Ah," said Owen. "Well, sire, when you're done here we've found some odd tracks heading East."

"Toward Camelot?"

"Indeed, sire."

"Probably something nasty, then," Arthur muttered darkly. "Show me."

He left his glowering manservant and was busy puzzling over an ominously wide set of marks in the mud when hoof beats sounded behind them.

Merlin whipped around just in time to catalogue the rider's clothes—long billowing cloak, staff gripped tightly in his fist, obviously a sorcerer—before an arrow came flying toward his head. The warlock ducked, shouting for Arthur and the Knights. Another well-aimed projectile went whizzing past his ear and Merlin threw himself onto the forest floor, crawling forward on his elbows. A Knight came rushing up from behind him and hauled him to his feet.

"Run, Merlin," Sir Kay shouted. "You'll be of no help to us here." He hurried away before Merlin could protest, heading for the fray. The sorcerer had dismounted, and there were men coming from the woods around them, swords and crossbows raised as they headed for the Prince and his Knights.

Merlin was up and sprinting with barely a thought with his arm outstretched, magic burning in the center of his palm. Arthur caught sight of him and glared, yelling for him to leave. Merlin ignored him and sent one of the swordsmen flying into a sorcerer was performing his own spells rapidly, protecting his men and leveling Arthur's Knights. Sir Bedevere went down and Merlin swiftly dispatched his assailant, picking up a stray sword as he joined the fight. He strengthened the blade with a softly muttered spell and made his way to the prince. Merlin concentrated on blocking the spells being thrown at them and hoped desperately that none of the Knights would notice.

The warlock moved until he was back-to-back with Arthur and swung his sword wildly while Knights and enemy men went down around them. Merlin watched Sir Kay start to fall. The brunet's eyes flashed and everything slowed down. He saw as the spell burst over the Knight's chest and spread, forcing the man's eyes shut and slowing his breathing to a deep, steady rhythm. He backed into Arthur and deftly blocked another spell that came flying towards the Prince.

"Arthur," Merlin hissed. "They're sleeping spells."

"Merlin, don't prattle on while we're—" he swung his sword, catching a grunt in the ribs. "Fighting."

"I'm not prattling on!" said Merlin. There was one Knight remaining, and he was fighting with a seriously injured leg. "I'm trying to tell you something important!"

The last Knight fell and Merlin and Arthur paused, chests heaving. The still-standing henchmen surrounded the two with their weapons raised.

"Well," said Arthur. "I guess now's as good a time as ever."

"They were sleeping spells, Arthur," the warlock whispered. "He wasn't killing the Knights; he was knocking them out."

"Good to know," said Arthur. "They're still alive. Now we can allgo back to my father and tell him how the Knights of Camelot were bested by less than twenty men."

"What a splendid idea, Prince Arthur," said the sorcerer, turning with a whirl of his cloak. Merlin sneered nastily and stepped forward, pushing Arthur behind him. The Prince felt his stomach clench in panic.

"Merlin, what the hell are you doing!" he hissed. The boy ignored him.

"Leave. Now." The sorcerer laughed and conjured a crackling blue light to his palm. Merlin scoffed and Arthur gripped his arm.

"Merlin, shut up," he snapped. The Prince turned to the sorcerer still holding the spell in his hand. "Don't listen to him, he's an idiot." The man smirked.

"I mean it," said Merlin. "Leave."

"And what exactly do you plan on doing against me, boy?" The man asked, his face turning dark. Arthur felt sick as the sorcerer raised his hand toward Merlin, his spell sparking.

"Merlin, get back," Arthur growled, yanking the boy's arm. Merlin rounded on the Prince.

"And what exactly do youexpect to do, swing a sword at him?" He yelled. Arthur rolled his eyes.

"No, Merlin, I'm going to whack him round the head with a tree branch. Yesthat's what I plan to do!" Arthur snapped. Merlin glowered at him.

"Come on, Arthur, even he's going to be able to stop a sword!"

The sorcerer growled.

"You insolent little—"

"Shut up!" Merlin yelled, his eyes flashing. He whirled back to Arthur, who was staring behind the warlock, his eyes wide. "Look, you can't just—"

"Uh, Merlin," he said.

"What!" Arthur winced.

"Look." Merlin looked.

The sorcerer and his wayward men were out cold, lying limp and still on the ground, their weapons strewn about them. Merlin stood there a minute, aghast, before Arthur took pity on him and wrapped a hand around the servant's elbow.

"Come on, Merlin," he said as his heart rate returned to normal. "Let's rouse the Knights and get out of here quickly."

Thankfully, the sorcerer's spells hadn't been very powerful, and it only took a few minutes to get the Knights awake. As they made their way warily back to Camelot, Arthur could hear something different about the forest. He watched Merlin out of the corner of his eye, and felt his chest constrict every time one of the Knights clapped the boy on the back or leaned against the brunet for support. It had only taken an instant for Arthur to discover Merlin's secret, and his men had fought alongside the servant's magic. The Prince forced himself to stay an acceptable distance from his friend and reminded himself repeatedly that keeping the boy locked in the castle for the rest of his life would only be counterproductive, mostly because Merlin would find a way out.

They arrived back in Camelot much later with less game and lower spirits than they had anticipated. Arthur arranged to have the sorcerer taken to the King and deigned to go back to his chambers with Merlin, citing the long day for his fatigue.

"So," murmured the Prince as he and the warlock made their way slowly through the castle. "About the whole, um, 'tingles' thing, I—"

"Arthur," said Merlin testily, and the blond held up his hands.

"I was going to say that I'm—I'm sorry, Merlin." Arthur opened the doors to his room. "I didn't trust you when you said something was wrong and it won't happen again." He shut the doors and clapped Merlin on the back. "And if you ever do something like that again, I'll skin you."

Merlin gave him a sarcastic look, and Arthur felt his cheeks start to heat up.

"I'll keep that in mind the next time I save your life, sire," he said. Arthur released Merlin's shoulders.

"I mean it, Merlin," the Prince spat. "I don't want you to do anything that bloody stupid ever again."

"But—" Merlin started.

"No," Arthur rose up to his full height, using his bulk to tower over his servant. "The next time you decide to take on a bloody sorcerer, maybe you should—"

"In case you haven't noticed, I'ma 'bloody sorcerer'," Merlin hissed. Arthur fell silent. "Look, Arthur." The brunet crossed his arms. "I know you're worried. But I've been keeping you safe from magic for years. Just because you've finally noticed doesn't mean that's going to change."

The Prince took a deep breath through his nose and sat down heavily in his favorite chair. He ran a hand through his hair.

"You cannot be careless, Merlin," he grit out finally. "The Knights were right there. What if one of them had seen you?"

"But they didn't."

"But I did!" Arthur exploded. "Why can't you get it through your idiot head that I'm trying to keep you safe!"

He stood and began pacing, his footsteps furious and echoing. Merlin was standing frozen next to the bed.

"That's not your responsibility, Arthur," he said quietly. "No matter what you think of me, I can take care of myself."

Arthur stopped his pacing, standing directly in front of his friend, simmering. He stood there for a long moment, studying the boy's face and taking slow, measured breaths. Eventually, he pulled his friend into his chest.

"It is my responsibility," he murmured, ignoring Merlin's quiet protest. "It really is."

"Why? Because you're a royal prat?" asked Merlin sullenly, his voice muffled by Arthur's chest. The Prince rolled his eyes and buried his nose in Merlin's hair.

"No," he said. "Because you're my—Merlin. Because you're Merlin and I'm Arthur and that's how I want it to be."

The warlock gave a quiet snort.

"So it is because you're a royal prat, then." Arthur opened his mouth to retort and Merlin shushed him. "You're just a romantic one."

Arthur's cheeks started to go red and he violently stifled the blush.

"Whatever," he said, petulantly. Arthur pulled away and tugged at the boy's sleeve. "Come on, Merlin. I'm tired. Go get us some supper and draw us a bath, and then we'll go to bed." Merlin raised a brow.

"What, are you planning to have me bathe with you now too?"

"And warm my bed, if I'm lucky," Arthur deadpanned, and he relished in Merlin's answering blush. "Now hurry up, Merlin. The sooner you get to work, the sooner we get to sleep."

"Yes sire." Merlin hurried out the door.

Arthur opened his mouth to make another quip at the warlock's expense, but he was distracted by the bath, which had filled itself and was now steaming invitingly next to the changing screen.

Waking up with Merlin was not like Arthur had expected it to be. The boy was surprisingly peaceful when he slept, and his normally flailing limbs were still and curled about his body. Arthur let out a contented breath and tightened his arms around Merlin's waist. The Prince slid one of his hands down to stroke the warlock's hip just to feel his skin beneath his fingertips. He let his palm rest there, warm and heavy, and imagined years and years of other mornings beginning the same way. Merlin stirred and shifted into the blonde's touch. His breathing quickened slightly and Arthur smiled into the boy's hair, unwilling as of yet to move.

"Morning," he murmured. Merlin stretched languidly, his body moving against Arthur's.

"Morning," the warlock replied lazily. He snuggled back into the prince and they lay for a long moment in comfortable silence. Merlin moved against him again and the blond felt himself begin to flush.

"So, about last night," said Arthur, clearing his throat awkwardly. Merlin rolled to face his friend and the blond held his breath.

"I am notmoving my things again," he said, very seriously. Arthur choked and Merlin started to giggle.

"Oh, very funny, Merlin," the Prince muttered. Merlin, still giggling, slid out of reach before Arthur could cuff him and padded quickly into the antechamber. He emerged a few moments later clad in a pair of ratty trousers and a tunic. Arthur felt a small pang of disappointment at the loss of his good view, and smirked widely when he realized he'd get to see it again. Merlin caught his look and rolled his eyes as he rummaged through the prince's wardrobe.

"What?" he said, suspiciously. Arthur pushed himself up, letting the blankets pool in his lap.

"Nothing," said the blond. A pair of pants was thrown in his general direction and Arthur caught them with practiced ease. He pulled them on as he watched Merlin bustle around the room, tidying up and shivering in the unusually cold morning.

"You could light the fire, Merlin," Arthur said abruptly. The boy turned to him, a bewildered look on his face.

"You want me to go and fetch kindling just because it's chilly?" he asked, indignant. Arthur shook his head and stepped toward his friend hesitantly.

"No," he said. His voice was careful, measured. "You could just—light it. Like you did before." Merlin froze; his face shifting into an unreadable expression that Arthur realized was not entirely unfamiliar.

"You want me to light it with magic."

"With magic," Arthur confirmed. He stepped cautiously forward again. "You can use magic around me, Merlin," he said haltingly. "When we're alone." Merlin stared at him, face still carefully blank.

"I don't know, Arthur," he said finally. "That might not be a good idea." The Prince shook his head.

"I want to learn," he said. "I don't—I still don't know how I feel about sorcerers in general. But maybe," Arthur felt his heart clench as old fear and older aversion crept into his mind. "Maybe if it's you, it'll be different."

Merlin remained silent and Arthur took a deep breath.

"I'm not saying anything will happen right away," he said. "But my father—he was wrong about magic. And when I'm King," Merlin sucked in a tiny, fragile breath, and Arthur paused before continuing. "When I'm King things may be different. Some day."

Merlin's face broke into a smile and Arthur felt the pressure in his chest lessen. He pulled the warlock to him and pressed his lips to the boy's gently.

"Thank you, sire," said Merlin, and Arthur knew in that moment that he would change everything for just the feeling of a servant's heartbeat next to his.

Last update for a while. Hester's currently working on a Glee fic that's her idea entirely. I would say it's a monster length fic but it's got nothing on the one I'm currently developing. The Glee fic is going to be starting pretty soon but we want to have a reserve of chapters before we start uploading so that there's a consistent gap between updates.

Thanks for reading! Drop a review?