A/N: I apologise for the inevitable spelling mistakes in here, but I somehow managed to turn off the spell-check and I can't figure out how to turn it back on.

Can't a knight have some time to relax every now and then? There I was, enjoying a pint or three in the inn, when Elyan came in and dragged me out. There were reports of a violent group of bandits, he said. The king had decided to go hunting them.

Ever since Arthur had married Gwen, he had been forced to accept the rules and limitations of his rank; there was ceremony after ceremony, meeting after meeting… Arthur probably hadn't seen the light of day for weeks. But it didn't show. He kept us knights on our toes.

We joined the usual gang in the courtyard. I was still lamenting my abandoned beer, sitting alone on the counter, when I noticed Merlin laden with at least seven heavy bags and a cage, hurrying after Arthur. To be honest, I shouldn't really be complaining. I had never seen Merlin with his guard down, relaxing. And to think that I'd known him for two years and seen him every single day, that was saying something.

"We ride immediately," said the king. Rather unnecessarily, I might add, seeing as the horses were saddled and waiting directly in front of his face. "The bandits are said to be camping in the Abingdon forest."

He looked happier than normal. Arthur was a man of action; being a king didn't sit well with him. Too bad, really, since he had known that he would someday reign the kingdom since the moment he was born. You would have thought he'd have grown himself into a lazy slob who actually enjoyed sitting indoors. At least he had improved since he had met Merlin, or so Leon told me.

I considered the boy. Over the past few months he had been looking more and more confident. He had lost his constant woebegone appearance and seemed more certain of himself. Sometimes, when he was having one of his odd 'wise moments', he seemed to radiate a sort of power, that transmitted itself into Arthur and helped him in ways I couldn't understand.

Merlin set the bags down with a sigh. We had recently started bringing along homing pigeons, in case we needed to send an urgent message. So far, they were proving very useful. And heavy. Invariably, the task of carrying them fell to Merlin. The boys had dispersed and had started packing their horses. Arthur turned to his servant.
"You having a rest? Feeling better now?"
Merlin winced at the heavy sarcasm. He had been looking paler recently. At the councils, he never said anything, never looking up from the ground as they discussed the forces growing around the kingdom. An outsider might be suspicious of him; he always looked guilty. But anyone who knew Merlin, got him to open up, knew that the very notion was ridiculous. Merlin wasn't capable of hurting a fly. And no one could miss his unfailing, undying loyalty to Arthur.

"No, sire."
"Well pick that up, then."
The servant hoisted the bags over his shoulder and started unloading them into the horses' saddlebags. That was another thing about Merlin. He never complained. To anyone. Except Gaius.

The ride was long and boring. Why couldn't Arthur just send his guards out? He was a king, he could easily send people to their deaths, and nobody would think much less of him. He was using the threat as an excuse to escape the castle, that's what he was doing. And dragging us along with him.
The journey was silent. Normally everyone was entertained by Merlin's attempts to annoy Arthur, but the boy said nothing. The silence was foreboding, somehow. The Forest of Abingdon was said to be haunted, and no one had forgotten the last time we had tried to fight spirits.

We stopped just outside the forest. I, for one, was glad we weren't in it. The trees loomed in our line of sight, dark, impenetrable. There seemed to be a perpetual fog drifting about the place.

We made camp in a clearing. Well, Merlin did. I sometimes felt guilty for not helping him more, but the other knights' taunts were something best avoided. The boy was a servant; he was doing his job. He kept looking up at every noise in the shadows, barely noticing the saucepan bubbling before him. He was on edge, nervous. The feeling soon infected everyone. Instinctively trying to retain some degree of normalcy, we all pulled the old routine of emptying the entire saucepan of its contents before Merlin could even blink. He didn't complain, though. He fed the horses, gathered some wood from the edges of the clearing, and sat by the fire.

"What are you doing, Merlin?" asked the king, feeling somewhat suspicious as Merlin rooted through his bag. As an answer, Merlin pulled out a ham and cheese sandwich. He grinned challengingly, but no one tried to take it. We were all stuffed to the gills. No doubt he had done it on purpose; he really was quite cunning.
But Arthur went there.
"Ah, my favourite. Thank you, Merlin."
He plucked the sandwich out of Merlin's hands. The boy's expression faltered. There went his dinner. Arthur forced it down. I looked around for any food we might have missed, but in our hurry to loudly eat all the soup, we had unwittingly eaten all the soup. We never really thought that Merlin went hungry.
I glared at the back of the king's precious head. He had taken it a step too far. I tried to catch Merlin's eye, but he didn't look at me. Wouldn't look at me. Oh, drat.

We slumped down onto our blankets, in the customary ring around the fire. The night was still, and our eyes were drawn to the only moving thing in the clearing; Merlin stayed up, as usual, to pack and tidy and prepare. Arthur's expression was sleepy, satisfied, bags under his eyes. Come to think of it, he looked like he hadn't slept in a few nights. Well, he was newly married, wasn't he? I smirked. But wait, Merlin looked the same. What had he been up to?
I smiled myself to sleep. Ah, the musings of an idle mind.

I blinked groggily. Was it morning already? Gawd, I felt like I hadn't slept at all. But hold on, it was only dawn. I could probably manage to sneak in a few more winks. I faded away again.
A movement reclaimed my attention. Merlin. He had been forced to sleep outside our defensive circle, away from the warmth and light.

He was sitting bolt upright, staring minutely at the edge of the forest. A faint noise. This seemed to confirm his fears, and he stood up, tense and ready.
Something was quietly coming closer. I burrowed deeper into my blanket, seeking the warmth. It was probably just a boar, Merlin. No need to get all worked up about it.
His face was troubled, indecisive. He took a deep breath, and came to a decision. He glanced around at the knights, wondering which one to wake up. Honestly, he was so easy to read. I saved him the trouble of annoying someone by rolling off my toasty blankets and onto the cold earth. His gaze snapped to my face, and he heaved a sigh of relief.
"Gwaine."
"What is it, friend?" I slurred, reaching for my sword. The noise was closer now. It seemed to be coming from a different direction, too. Actually, no, it was in the same place. But then another rustling started up, and another. I spun around, fully awake. We both realised what it was in the same instant.
I dove towards the closest prone body. Leon.

"Get up, get up, ambush!" I whispered, and I could hear Merlin doing the same on his end. I shook Leon by his shoulders, because he needed, needed to be awake.
He finally stirred, and I moved on to Percival. I heard a voice.
"I swear, Merlin, if this is another badger I will skin you." Arthur stopped, hearing as I did the drawing of swords. Coming from all around us.
He sprang up, staggering slightly. I pulled Percy up by his collar, ignoring his surprisingly feeble protests. His eyes finally blinked open, and he was suddenly pointing his sword at me, then Merlin, then directly in front of him.

There was a pause. Not a sound. We all stood silent, not even breathing. Everyone was up – however unwillingly – and ready. Apart from Merlin. He was in front of us, unarmed and unafraid.
Then the attack came and I forgot my fears for him. I sliced at a masked man, cutting his arm, ignoring his cry of pain as I knocked back another one. I dodged a scythe and dropped, rolling, springing up and impaling my sword in the back of an assailant. He staggered, fell. His hood came off. I looked down at his face, unable to break away. He was nothing but a boy. Barely Merlin's age. His gaze dimmed, and I came to my senses.
Too late. A club had found my shoulder, and I automatically dropped my sword, unable to move my arm. Keeping my head, I moved away, just missing the nearest blade. I looked around for another weapon, but my eyes were filled with the sheer number of enemies. We were outnumbered. Normally that wouldn't make a difference, but as I had no weapon…

I'm not sure what came over me. I pulled a man around by his shoulder – a huge, muscly giant – and slammed my fist into his face, plucking his axe from his grasp as he doubled over. I swung it around, taking out two of the nearest bandits. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Merlin being knocked to the ground. A body was flung back and hit me with unnatural force. But I was distracted by another bandit approaching. I soon stopped him and looked around for more.

There were two more black-clothed figures takings swings at Arthur, who seemed to have lost his sword, so I charged in to help and fended them off. There was a momentary stillness; the attack had finally stopped.
The other knights were missing their swords, too. Good tactic, that, taking your enemy's weapon. I strode over to Merlin, hauling him upright.
"You all right, mate?"
"Fine."
I looked back, noticing Arthur scowling at me as he picked himself up. I had walked right past him to help up Merlin. The king looked flustered and angry. Poor dear wasn't used to needing help on the battlefield. He surveyed the ruined and bloodied camp.

"Thank god you warned us, Gwaine."
Merlin looked surprised, but he didn't defend himself. Looking at him rather than the king, I answered.
"It was Merlin who heard them coming."
"Merlin? Don't be silly. He was too busy sleeping like a baby, weren't you, Merlin?"
The men chuckled. The adrenaline was wearing off, and smugness was taking its place. We, a relatively small band of six, had taken on and defeated a large band of bandits.
"Merlin."
The servant hadn't answered. He was looking around, searching.
"Where's Leon?"
Arthur froze. The knights glanced around at the clearing. No Leon. Then we heard a groan coming from the bushes.
Leon slithered out, a large bruise forming on his forehead and a bloody lip. A blade had pierced his ankle.
Merlin got to him first, and with Elyan's help, lifted him to the fire. He set about cleaning and dressing the gaping wound, and we stood watching, feeling rather useless.

"What were you doing in the bushes?"
Leon stared at the sky, then at Arthur.
"I lost my sword and they threw it over there, somewhere. I went over to the trees, to—"
He hissed in pain as he tried to sit up.
"Sorry," interjected Merlin, even though he had nothing to do with it.
"I saw a branch sticking out of a clump of bushes, so I went to try and use it, but the branch was strong and impossible to remove."
What a ponce. I mean, who even speaks like that?
"Then what?"
"I tried to hide, sire."
Arthur's face went from curious to disbelieving.
"You tried to hide? Even though you're techincally immortal?"
Leon was defensive.
"I saw that we were outnumbered and I had no weapon. I am not used to hand-to-hand combat, sire."
The king was thoughtful.
"Remind me to start a new round of training when we get back to Camelot."
I groaned. Arthur resumed his interrogation.
"But why did you hide over there?
"I had no time. I thought if Merlin could do it, I probably could. But they found me immediately."
As one, we looked over to Leon's hiding-place. It was small and well-protected. It would have been hard to spot someone through the sheer number of leaves cluttering the line of sight . Whereas Merlin had been lying flat-out on bare ground, not even out of the clearing.

All faces turned to the servant, who flushed to be at the centre of everyone's attention. He twisted his sleeve and spoke nonchalantly.
"I guess people find it easy to ignore me."
"And who could think you were a threat?" added Arthur. The men laughed and the tension broke. I noticed Merlin swallowing, looking relieved.
"But how did you hear the bandits coming?" asked Elyan, looking concerned. "I could barely hear a thing even when I was awake."

Merlin scoffed.
"You call yourself knights? We were sitting in an unprotected camp, miles from anywhere else, right next to where bandits had been seen, and you all fell asleep and left no one on guard."
We realised our glaringly obvious mistake.
"Well, why didn't you remind us then?" said Arthur, irritated.
"What, and get yelled at for waking you up? Nah."
Arthur shrugged indifferently and turned away. I shared a look with Percival. That's exactly what Arthur would have done. I leaned closer to Merlin.
"So you stayed up all night?"
"Couldn't sleep anyway. Too hungry."
Oh yeah. Oops.
"Merlin," came the ever-present party pooper. "Make yourself useful and ready the horses. We need to check out the rest of that forest before we go back."

So we set off again. I rode behind Merlin, looking thoughtfully at his back. How did he manage it? He persistently evaded injury and probable death by hiding behind trees. Yet Leon had just demonstrated how well that didn't work. It wasn't actually easy to ignore Merlin; he was long and lanky, and he was brighter, both mentally and physically, than the rest of us knights. The red and blue clothes, the black hair, as well as the trick with the dinner…

And the fact that he was responsible for nearly everything good and bad coming to Arthur's attention. Without him, we would probably have died several times over. He could sense things in a way none of us could. And though Arthur would never mention it, he was a useful part of the team. I should talk to him when we get home, tell him to claim his credit once in a while. Out here there was no privacy.

We searched the forest, which turned out to be small, empty, and actually quite pleasant. It was soon clear that the only bandits in this area were lying dead in our camp. I was just considering returning early to Camelot and continuing that beer, when we spotted a deer through the trees. It ran away as soon as it saw us, but it was the fifth deer we had seen since we set out.

This in itself was rare. Even in our best hunting ground, the one we used with visiting nobility, we could travel days without seeing a thing. Arthur called a halt.
"These are fertile lands. How would you feel about a little hunting trip?"
The boys responded enthusiastically. I threw in a "Fine, but do you have a beer?", to general amusement. Arthur looked pleased, and nodded at Merlin.
"Send a message with the pigeon."

We dismounted and stretched our legs while Merlin stared at the parchment.
"What should I write, sire?"
"I don't know, Merlin. Think of something for yourself, for a change. Don't be such a girl."
Merlin rolled his eyes and bent his head. There was a pause as he scratched at the paper. After a while, he rolled up the parchment, attached it to the bird and threw it in the air. We all watched it go, the sunlight blinding us.
"Right then. Off we go."
We followed him, leaving Merlin behind to put away the cage. Knowing he would follow us, we didn't move slowly. We soon found a flat, open field, through which a large herd of deer roamed, guarded by a powerful buck. Arthur sent Elyan and me to the other end of the field. We rode off, got into position and waited.

And waited. Soon we heard a commotion, and watched helplessly as the deer turned and fled to the forest. Since there was no point in subltety, we rode back directly through the field. As we neared the rest of the gang, we could hear Arthur yelling at someone.

"You useless lout! You just ruined the entire hunting expedition! I honestly don't know why I even keep you, Merlin! You're the worst servant I've ever had!"
I exchanged a look with Elyan and picked up the pace. Merlin didn't need any more stress today. If Arthur was threatening him, he meant it.

"It's not my fault if nobody told me anything! How could I have—"
"Oh, shut up. You knew perfectly well we were hunting, you could see we had stopped… Not even a child could have missed the obvious! And I know you hate hunting, you probably sabotaged us so the pretty deer could go free! I know you, Merlin. I know when you're lying. You can't fool me. Admit it, you did this on purpose!"
I could finally see them. Arthur was on his high horse, looming over Merlin, who had dismounted. The balance of power was evident. The other knights were looking anxiously on.

Merlin seemed to swell with indignation, gritting his teeth, a sure sign he was angry.
"I didn't! No matter how I felt about hunting, I wouldn't do something as stupid as that!"
"But you did, Merlin. Enough talking, I'm sick of this. Just listen. You've been sullen and angry for months! You think I don't notice, you think I'm completely oblivious! I know everything that goes on! This started at a very specific time. So, tell me Merlin, what problem do you have with Gwen?"
Merlin stared at him incredulously.
"If you think I'm actually jealous…"
"I do, Merlin. Either you're jealous of Gwen or me. Is that it? You fancy Gwen? Or are you jealous that you're not my only friend?"

His tone was harsh and ugly. Merlin spoke calmly, but I could see he was livid. Arthur could, too.
"This has nothing to do with you. Or Gwen," he added quickly. "It's…not something you could understand. Any of you." He looked directly at me for a moment. I gulped guiltily. "You really think I don't have problems of my own? You treat me like I'm stupid, like I'm just part of the scenery. I'm overworked, underpaid, underfed, I haven't slept in two days, I—"

"Those are stupid problems, Merlin. You're a complete nit sometimes. You're nothing special, all servants go through the same." Arthur had calmed down. He looked slightly ashamed of himself. He was a standard newly-wed, thinking all men wanted to steal his wife.

I was watching Merlin, though. He was even angrier than before, and as I looked on, he seemed on the verge of saying something. But he turned away. I was glad. I didn't want Merlin to get into any more trouble.
Without a word the servant mounted his horse and left. I quickly followed him, hoping to vent his anger before he murdered Arthur. I had never seen him this angry.

I nudged my horse into a trot and caught up with him. He checked who I was, then the gates opened.
"He's a complete, bumbling, idiotic fool. The deer hadn't even heard me before he started yelling at me. How is that fair? It was his fault! I couldn't just accuse him of ruining the hunting trip! He doesn't know half of what I do. And why does everything have to be about him? I do have my own life. Everyone around here has theirs. Yet he thinks everyone is out to murder him. All he knows is the number of times someone's nearly killed him. He doesn't know how many people have risked everything to…"

He tailed off suddenly. There was more to the story, but I wasn't going to press him too hard. Just a few minutes ago, he had looked like he was seriously, honestly considering punching his king in the face. I didn't blame him. I bet none of the knights would have stopped him, either. Merlin had hundreds of reasons to lash out at Arthur, more than anyone else in Camelot.
We went on in silence. I hadn't said a word, but I didn't need to. The storm was over. Before we turned back to find the others, he gripped my shoulder.
"Thanks."
I grinned back. "Happy to be of service."

Night was nearing again. We concentrated less on moving fast and more on spreading out to find a good campsite. Leon eventually called out "Here."
We regrouped and made camp. Arthur hadn't said anything to Merlin since we had returned, and vice versa. This was turning into a feud.

This camp was definitely more protected than the last one. We were in rocky territory, and we were protected by two sheer cliffs on either side. There was a gurgle of water nearby, and Merlin automatically went to fill the waterskins. Leon took this as an opportunity to approach the surly king. I had to admire his nerve. Then again, being immortal did have its advantages. Advantages like the fact that you couldn't be beaten to death by a man who had been training to kill since the day he was born. Small stuff like that.
"Sire—"
"Save it, Leon. I know I was wrong."
Well that hadn't been too bad. I should try it next time.
We started lighting the fire. What I mean by that is, Percival tried, then Elyan tried, then Leon tried, then I tried, then Merlin came back and did it for us.

Merlin seemed in a better mood, and even jokingly asked Arthur to save him some soup this time. We all ate our fair share, and Merlin's colour started coming back. I saw Arthur noticing it too, and knew he was thinking the same thing: was his lack of colour due to his lack of nutrition? That had to mean he never ate enough in Camelot, and why would he do that? There was plenty of food.

We had stopped unusually early today, so after we had eaten we all wandered around a bit aimlessly, not being tired enough to sleep.
Arthur was talking to Merlin again from across the camp, and I sat on a conveniently close, concealed rock to eavesdrop on what they were saying. What can I say? Being a knight doesn't mean you're a perfect, virtuous human being.
"Well, we got the bandits."
"As opposed to them getting us."
"That's true. I never did thank you for saving us all from our grisly demise, did I?"
"No, you didn't."
"And I'm not going to."
"Now that's just unfair."
"It's perfectly fair. Why should a king have to thank a servant?"
"Maybe when the servant has saved the king's life?"
"I've already thanked you for that once, years ago."
"All right then. What about when the servant would do it again?"
"What servant wouldn't want to die for his king?"
"A normal one."
Arthur chuckled. I smiled. They were two halves of a whole.
"Bank up the fire, it's going out."
Maybe not totally even halves of a whole.

There was a break in conversation as the fire glowed brighter and I settled more comfortably on the cold surface. I heard Merlin's footsteps cross the camp, then stumble as he tripped and fell. Arthur laughed loudly, more brashly than before. I craned my neck to check if the boy was all right, and saw his face flaming as he picked himself up. This is where the friendship ends and the hostilities begin, I thought to myself.
"Honestly, Merlin. You are useless."

Merlin didn't reply. He started making his bed, using the thin and threadbare blankets that were all he had against the cold.
"Aw, are you all upset? Don't be such a girl. Oh, I'm Merlin, and I tripped and fell and it hurts, and Arthur's being mean to me."
"I don't talk like that," said Merlin, trying to put on a brave face. I could see the ugly scrape on his knee gently trickling blood.
"Yes you do, Merlin. That's what you are. A baby. A fairly useless servant that's boring when he's angry, nervous, unhappy, happy, sleepy, sad… I could go on."
"Oh, so now I'm boring, too." Merlin was getting angry again. I cringed at what was probably going to happen: they would argue, Arthur would fire him, he would try to hit him, Arthur would beat him mercilessly and chase him away… I'd seen it happen to one of the old knights, Mercier.

"You're always boring. You never do anything willingly. You're a lazy slob."
Merlin didn't respond. That gave Arthur ample opportunity to really drive his point home.
"I mean, you're always late, you never do anything right, and how many times have you been in the tavern when you were supposed to be working for me?"

What? When had Merlin been in the tavern? I had never seen him in there. That was odd. Why would Merlin lie to Arthur?
I heard Merlin sigh deeply.
"What's that supposed to mean? Fine. Be that way. Sulk in the corner like a girl."
Nothing more was said, until Merlin turned around and said "It means that I have a clotpole for a friend, who insults people when he's bored."

Arthur smiled. He looked relieved. I supposed he didn't actually like fighting with his servant. The only thing that prevented him from constantly being at war with Merlin was Merlin's tendency to let insults bounce off him.

He reached over and punched the boy's shoulder in that affectionate way he had. Merlin looked vaguely happier, but his mind was somewhere else. I saw him glance over at Arthur a dozen times. He took a deep breath. I didn't like the way this was going. He looked oddly determined, afraid, yet dead set. I could hear the knights splashing around and giggling in the background. They must have found the stream. It was an incredibly inappropriate background noise compared to this serious scene.

"Arthur," began Merlin. He was trembling. Percy let off an unusually high-pitched scream, followed by a particularly loud splash, and I cursed him mentally.
"What is it, Merlin?" The king looked around lazily, oblivious to Merlin's internal struggle.
"Arthur, I'm… I'm a sorcerer."