(A/N Hello peoples this is both my first Merlin story and my first complete story... I was in a bit of a bad mood so it is a little depressing. If you review Merlin will give you a box full of magical cookies (::) :D)

Disclaimer: It's called FANfiction people of COURSE I don't own Merlin. Besides, if I did none of the knights would've died and Merlin would have been Arthur's court warlock

Merlin sat up with a sigh, it was his birthday, he should've been happy, but he wasn't. It wasn't going to be like Gwaine's birthday two weeks ago, he wasn't going to be ushered to the tavern and receive boatloads of gifts like the knight had. No, like always no one, not even Gaius would remember, his so-called friends would go about their days as usual not noticing the hurt expression he would wear whenever they neglected to wish him. Sighing once more, Merlin donned his mask of cheeriness and stepped out of his closet-like room.

"Morning Gaius!" He called happily, "what's for breakfast?"

"Nothing, if you don't leave now you'll be too late to give the king his food."

Groaning in frustration Merlin stalked off to the kitchens. After grabbing a tray of food the warlock rushed to his master's room, there he found an impatient Arthur sitting at the table tapping his fingers.

"Sorry I'm late!"

"Well Merlin, since you were late I think you should go muck out the stables before joining me and knights on the training fields." The king replied with a smirk.

"Yes sire," Merlin muttered, turning on his heel and marching out, mumbling about inconsiderate prats.
Merlin was in such a mood that he didn't notice Gwen until he walked in to her.

"Whoops! Hi Merlin," she grinned, " I got to go meet with Arthur... Maybe I'll see you later."

"Right... Later." 'What happened to the sweet innocent girl who kissed me out of pure joy, who was so shy she would back track at every sentence, fearing that she would offend someone... What happened to the maid who was like a sister to him? Well... She became Queen.'

Sighing, Merlin plodded onwards to the stables.

"Hey Gwaine," The manservant said in a falsely cheerful voice.

"Hi Merlin! I'd love to chat but I really only came around to grab my glove before training. I need to go now! Bye!" The former rouge replied before picking up the aforementioned glove and striding out of the stables.

'What happened to the noble-hating drunk who called him his best friend? What happened to the man who rushed off to save Arthur simply 'cause Merlin asked? What happened to his FRIEND. He became a knight,' Merlin decided.

Merlin trudged out of the stables and up to Gaius' chambers; he quickly changed and charged back down to the training grounds.

"Merlin!" An exasperated voice called, "you're late!"

"Sorry, I..."

"It doesn't matter," Arthur cut him off, " just pick up the shield."

Merlin rolled his eyes before grabbing the aforementioned shield and taking up his position in the center of the field. As each Knight of the Roundtable approached they offered him a small smile and a quick 'sorry' but that was it no, 'you're right Merlin, Arthur is a prat' or 'sorry about this, I'll go easy' it was another mark of how far he had grown apart from the others.

Merlin stumbled to his room, head pounding from being hit too many times. The warlock collapsed onto his bed and reached his hand under the covers. He gripped the hilt of his small knife, it had been used for this purpose since he was eight and no one had discovered this secret yet. The young man rolled up his sleeve and brought the knife to his pale wrist; because of his magic the scars never lasted long so, even if someone discovered him, they wouldn't realize how long he had been cutting himself. The first thin line of blood trickled down his hand and he sighed in relief. He drew a second line of red, then a third and a fourth, soon he became light-headed and his worries were temporarily squashed.

The next morning Merlin cleaned his sheets instantly with magic and threw on a new set of clothes, and checked his reflection in the mirror to make sure no blood showed. His worries had returned and he watched as his mask slid back in to place, sighing he stepped out the door to repeat the process once again.