Don't own, but I fell in love with this story line, so deal with it.

But, alas, not magic reveal. Not in this one. Just pure, disgustingly sweet fluff. :)

Also, I made some changes, (I've been doing that quite a lot lately), and altered some things based on some of the reviews I've received. (And thanks a million for them!)

R&R!

Morgana quietly opened Arthur's chamber door, not bothering to knock or announce her presence. She watched with a smirk as Arthur berated Merlin because of his latest act of stupidity and lack of skill. The prince threw a pillow at Merlin's head, and Merlin ducked, letting his eyes follow the pillow as it slid across the floor and landed at Morgana's feet.

Merlin's eyes widened when he saw the king's ward, his cheeks blushing in embarrassment.

Morgana looked between prince and manservant and asked in amused suspicion, "What exactly are you two doing?"

Merlin rubbed the back of his neck and turned to Arthur, clearly implying that he wanted the prince to explain.

"Merlin was just leaving," Arthur said glaring at his flustered manservant. "Isn't that right, Merlin?"

Merlin nodded hastily. "Of course, Sire." He glanced once more at Morgana before scurrying from the room.

When the door closed behind him, Arthur said, "I think Merlin has some mixed feelings for you."

Morgana raised an eyebrow. "Meaning?"

"Well, you saw how he acted when he saw you. He got all flustered and embarrassed. It's rather endearing, actually."

Morgana smiled and looked down at her feet. "I doubt his affections are toward me."

"And how do you know that?" Arthur asked, putting his hands on his hips.

"Because I believe his heart belongs to you," she explained bluntly.

Arthur's eyes widened in surprise and he appeared to be taken aback. "To - to me?" he spluttered incredulously.

"Yes. And I think the feelings mutual."

Arthur's cheeks flushed, both from anger and from embarrassment. "That's hardly the truth, Morgana," he said in a voice slightly higher than normal.

"Oh, come on, Arthur," Morgana said, walking closer to where he stood by his chair. "He's been your servant for a measly month now, and you're already teasing him with a smile on your face."

"I wasn't smiling, Morgana!" Arthur exclaimed. "He just lost my ceremonial sword. How does one lose a sword?"

"Maybe he did it to get a rise out of you," Morgana suggested. "I've seen him function when he's not with you, Arthur. He's surprisingly efficient, considering how clumsy he is."

"Surprisingly efficient?" Arthur asked with a scoff. "I highly doubt that."

Morgana shrugged. "I know you admire him, Arthur. Even just a little bit."

Arthur folded his arms. "I do not. He's stupid, lazy, and incompetent."

"But he's also funny; I know he makes you laugh."

"Well, yes," Arthur said slowly. "He's been known to say . . . not witty . . . nor clever, by any means . . . but slightly . . . humorous things every once in a while, that make me smile -"

"Laugh, Arthur."

"Fine, yes," Arthur said impatiently. "But that does not mean I admire him."

Morgana contemplated this before shrugging again. "Alright. I believe you." She turned to leave.

Arthur could see in her body language and could hear in the tone of her voice that she didn't believe him, so he felt the need to drive the point home by calling out to her receding back,

"I don't admire him, Morgana!"

Morgana grinned to herself and responded over her shoulder, "Of course," before closing the door behind her.

Arthur mumbled nonsense to himself in his annoyance.

A few seconds later, the door opened once more, revealing a very confused Merlin, who strolled right inside with a puzzled expression on his face.

"Why's she so happy?" he asked.

"Merlin, you're an idiot," Arthur said in angrily, without explanation.

Merlin furled his eyebrows but did not respond.

"Merlin," Gwen said cheekily as Arthur, Morgana, and Uther ate supper at the longer-than-was-necessary table. She waved the pitcher of wine in front of Merlin's dazed face. "Merrrrlin."

Merlin jerked awake from his stupor, his slightly open mouth snapping shut. He winced as he bit his lip, turning to face Gwen. "What? What did I do?"

Gwen laughed warmly. "You were staring at Arthur again."

"No, I wasn't!" Merlin said, his voice sharp and defensive.

Gwen smiled. "Whatever you say. You just seem a bit tired -"

"I didn't get a lot of sleep last night," Merlin said, shooting Gwen a look.

"Was Arthur involved?"

Merlin blinked, his cheeks turning slightly pink. "Well, yes, but -"

"You and Arthur really must stop doing that under Uther's nose," Gwen warned, nodding to the king who looked at his food with a superior expression on his face. "It's not safe."

"B-but, Arthur wasn't involved like that -" Merlin insisted.

"It's alright, Merlin, your secret's safe with me -"

"He just needed a bath!" Merlin exclaimed suddenly, so loudly all the heads in the room turned, startled, to look at him. Merlin was obliviously glaring at Gwen, his cheeks stained pink.

Arthur, when he couldn't catch Merlin's eye, looked imploringly at Gwen, his eyebrow raised.

Gwen smiled, and shook her head.

Gaius eyed Merlin carefully, curiosity and light suspicion in his gaze. He cleared his throat, causing Merlin to look up from the spell book he was studying.

"There's something I'd like to ask you about," Gaius said simply when he was sure he had Merlin's undivided attention.

Merlin raised an eyebrow. "Alright, that doesn't sound very good; but I'm listening."

"Is there, um . . ." Gaius paused in thought. "How do I put this delicately. . . ."

Merlin closed his book and set it aside. "If you have to ask yourself that, then there is no delicate way of putting it," he said sympathetically. "Just tell me."

Gaius let out a breath of air through his nose. "What exactly is your relationship with Arthur?"

Merlin blinked. "He is my boss, and I am his servant," he explained slowly, trying to find the trap in Gaius' question.

"Is that all?"

"Well," Merlin said thoughtfully, "We are friends, even if he won't admit it -"

"Are you sure there's nothing more . . . intimate, shall we say, going on?"

Merlin blushed as he groaned and rubbed his temple. "You've been talking with Gwen, haven't you?"

Gaius smiled slightly. "No. Why? Has she brought this up, also?"

Merlin shook his head and returned his attention to his book, opening it up to a random page and pretending to read it.

"She's a very observant young girl," Gaius contemplated.

"Trying to read," Merlin said, irritated.

"I always thought she was smart."

"Learning about my destiny; need quiet -"

"Don't you think there's something telling that I'm not the only one to wonder -"

"I think it's telling that people have sick minds," Merlin said, frustrated. "Now, please, I'm trying to read my book."

Gaius smiled fondly at his ward, before finally leaving him alone.

"So, now that you're king," Gwaine began, reclining in his chair next to Arthur at the long dining room table, "All that's left is for you to chose a queen."

Arthur smiled slightly into his goblet of wine. "I already have someone in mind."

Gwaine smirked. "It's Merlin, isn't it?"

Arthur immediately flushed bright red. He cleared his throat and said, "Who gives you the right to speak to me like that?"

"You," Gwaine said simply. "There's no proper punishment, so -"

"Maybe there should be," Arthur said in a low and dangerous voice.

Gwaine merely laughed. "Wouldn't make a difference. Anyway, I think it should be Merlin, if my opinion is of any weight. He'd make a great queen. And imagine the wide smile he'd give you if you got down on one knee."

Arthur tried not to, but the image presented itself to the front of his mind. Of course, he wouldn't be on one knee; he wouldn't ever do that for Merlin. It'd be embarrassing for the both of them, and, honestly, he didn't think it really suited them. A smile spread on his face subconsciously before he wiped it away when he realized it was there. "No," he declared, "I was talking about Gwen."

Gwaine smirked. "I haven't heard Gwen's name leave your mouth in these past few weeks, Arthur. However, you say Merlin's name on an hourly basis."

"Well - well, yes, he's my manservant. My unfortunately deaf and lazy manservant. If I didn't say his name on an hourly basis -"

"Arthur," Gwaine said, shaking his head, "Merlin is always with you. Actually, I'm surprised he isn't sitting on your lap right now."

Again, Arthur did try not to picture it; he did. But the words Merlin, sitting, and lap made him slightly dizzy, and his face was radiating heat. "I would have Merlin put in the stocks before I allowed that to happen."

"Allowed what to happen?" Merlin asked suddenly, appearing just over Arthur's shoulder.

Arthur jumped, turning his eyes on the black-haired man behind him. "Merlin! Don't sneak up on me like that! I am your new king; I won't have any of this -"

"You'd have me put in the stocks before you allowed what to happen?" Merlin interrupted with a sly smile.

Arthur racked his brain. "Um - allowed you to, uh -" The king could have answered the question with a lie, easily, but he couldn't think straight with Merlin looking at him with that stupid smile and that stupid raised eyebrow. . . .

Gwaine watched Arthur struggle with a grin. Finally, he took pity on the new king and finished for him: "Allowed you to sit on his lap."

If Gwaine thought Arthur's tanned cheeks were red, he was introduced to a whole other shade of blush; Merlin's extra pale cheeks looked like they were on fire.

"I . . . I-I would walk willingly to the stocks before I allowed that to happen," Merlin choked out through his embarrassment.

"Right, see?" Arthur said to Gwaine, gesturing to Merlin and then to himself. "It would never happen."

Gwaine held back laughter, hiding it behind a gulp of mead. "I'm not saying it would happen, either. I said I'm surprised he isn't in your lap, considering how much time you two spend together."

Merlin laughed, too loud and too short. "Oh! Well, yes, I suppose I could see that -"

"You could?" Arthur asked, turning surprised eyes on his manservant.

Merlin's cheeks flushed further. "W-well, no, I suppose I couldn't . . . I mean, not like that . . . of course. . . ." Merlin swallowed, before turning around and walking along the edge of the table to pour more wine for a man that already had a full goblet.

Gwaine laughed heartily. "Yes; there goes Camelot's future queen."

Arthur drank more wine as he grumbled curses at Gwaine.

Merlin sat on the floor in the armory, a scowl glued to his face. He had forgotten to muck out the stables, so Arthur had forced him to shine the shoes of every knight in Camelot.

He'd been there for hours, and he was just barely halfway done.

The longer it took him to finish, the angrier he felt, and the more time he spent sitting on the uncomfortable stone floor, the more time he suspected he would spend killing Arthur when he saw him again.

So, when the door to the armory opened, Merlin automatically assumed it was Arthur, and he said,

"Sire, I suggest you leave; I'm very angry and cannot be held accountable for what I say."

"Don't worry, it's not Arthur," a familiar voice said, his boots clicking on the floor as he walked closer to Merlin.

Merlin turned around and saw Lancelot, his standard half-smile on his face. "Oh, Lancelot," Merlin said, turning back to his task. "Hello."

"What's the matter?" Lancelot asked, lowering himself to the floor and sitting beside the king's manservant.

"I've been shining boots for two hours, Lancelot," Merlin answered, absentmindedly rubbing the brush against the leather.

"Well, that's not so bad," Lancelot said, optimistically. "It shouldn't be that much longer, then -"

"I'm only halfway done," Merlin deadpanned, dropping the items in his hand and rubbing his aching wrists.

Lancelot's face fell and his shoulders sagged in disappointment on Merlin's behalf. "Oh. Well, I could help you, if you want."

Merlin shook his head. "You don't have to. It's calming, actually."

The handsome knight's eyes widened slightly in surprise. "Really?"

Merlin groaned, rubbing at his eyes. "No. It's very, very annoying."

Lancelot smiled softly. "Arthur's just been having a rough day."

"Oh, I know," the tired manservant said. "Have you forgotten I had to wake him up this morning? He wasn't in a very good mood then, either."

"Well, he still likes you," Lancelot said, perkily, knocking their shoulders together.

"Likes me?" Merlin said, taken aback. "I'm surprised Arthur's still tolerating me." Merlin paused in thought. "Actually, no, I'm surprised I'm still tolerating him."

Lancelot laughed. "Well, love makes people think strange things."

Merlin's cheeks exploded in a wonderful shade of bright red and he turned incredulous eyes on Lancelot. "Love?" he said, his voice in an almost-whisper. "Who said anything about love?"

"You two haven't . . . you're still. . . ." Comprehension dawned on Lancelot's face. "Oh, Merlin, I'm sorry, Gwaine said -"

Merlin laughed nervously, trying to turn his attention to the boot and brush in his hands. "You actually listen to anything Gwaine says?"

Lancelot blinked, and rubbed the back of his neck, his cheeks turning pink in his embarrassment. "Well, he sounded pretty sure this time."

The two were painfully silent for a moment before Merlin dropped his task again. "But where would he get love from?"

Lancelot forced a non-nonchalant laugh. "Just being Gwaine, I suppose."

Merlin eyed Lancelot warily. "I suppose. But Gwaine never struck me as a romantic."

Lancelot nodded hastily and exaggeratedly. "Oh, yes. Biggest romantic I know."

"Really?" the manservant asked suspiciously.

The knight clambered awkwardly to his feet and backed away. "Yes. And, uh, I think I have some training to do with Arthur now, so I'll just . . . leave."

Merlin raised an eyebrow. "If you had training with Arthur, I would have to go, too. King's manservant, remember?" he said, raising a boot in the air.

Lancelot's cheeks grew pinker. "Yes, well, it's, uh, a private session. Going over some . . . things. You're being there isn't necessary. You understand."

Merlin eyed him. "Yes."

Lancelot smiled, before turning around and hurrying through the door.

Merlin tried not to think about the encounter as he continued shining the mountainous pile of shoes.

Arthur and the knights were training. On a summer day. At noon.

Needless to say, they were perspiring quite a lot, and Merlin was on stand-by on the sidelines, some water in a pitcher and Arthur's spare sword in his hands. He almost hated watching Arthur train in the summer because, not only did that mean extra work for him, (more clothes to wash, more armor to polish), but he was also sweating just watching them exercise.

Arthur was sparring with Gwaine, admittedly his most worthy opponent, but, as always, Arthur managed to knock the knight to the ground and point the tip of his sword at Gwaine's chest.

Gwaine grumbled as Arthur helped him up with a laugh, saying bitterly under his breath, "If you try any harder to impress Merlin, I might have to start publicly shaming you."

Arthur was relieved that his face was already red with exertion, because he could feel himself blushing. "I don't try to impress anybody, let alone Merlin," he responded, folding his arms.

"Look, if you want to keep denying it, that's fine with me, but I get full gloat rights whenever you decide to admit that you're desperate for him to like you."

Arthur gaped at him. He had the nerve . . . the audacity. . . . "Desperate? I'm not desperate -"

"Fine, then, pathetic," Gwaine said, folding his arms and shaking his long brunette locks out of his face.

"I'm not desperate," Arthur insisted.

"Well, your not-desperation must be working, then, going off of the look Merlin's giving you right now," Gwaine said with a smirk, walking away toward the crowd of other knights.

Arthur spared a glance at Merlin, who, coincidentally, was staring right back at him, a slightly glazed look about him.

Arthur scowled and turned away.

Agravaine watched Arthur as he looked over a series of maps and documents, a cautious look on his face.

Arthur sighed. He knew his uncle was looking at him in that odd, curious way people always seemed to have when they caught him alone. "Yes, Uncle?" he asked in forced patience.

Agravaine lowered his eyes. He knew he could manipulate his nephew into a particular way of thinking, or a certain path of action, and he was sure this time was no different. "Sire, if I may be so bold, I'd like to speak with you about your manservant, Merlin."

Arthur growled quietly and aligned his spine, his shoulders rolling back in annoyance. "Yes, and what would you like to say? It seems that everybody I've ever met wants to discuss Merlin."

Agravaine fidgeted with his fingers. "I fear he may have additional agendas than just he one you know of."

Arthur blinked. He thought the direction of the conversation would be steered down a more uncomfortable and . . . romantic road. "Agenda? I know not of any agendas concerning Merlin. He doesn't appear to have the mind for a single agenda, let alone multiple ones."

Agravaine sighed. "I believe he may have some . . . how should I say this?" Agravaine paused in mock-thought. Like most conversations he had with the king, he spent hours choreographing his movements, his pauses, and even his facial expressions. Agravaine had no loyalty to Arthur, but he did value great acting skills.

"You should say it quickly, Uncle; I do not enjoy careful discussions of Merlin. I've had too many of them than I'd like to remember."

Agravaine blinked. He had thought his rumor of Merlin had been original, but now he felt like a poser, stealing somebody else's idea. "And what are the nature of these discussions of Merlin?"

"It appears that a great number of people appear to think that my manservant has . . . complicated . . . feelings when it comes to me."

Agravaine smiled. Perhaps if these same sentiments came from what Arthur considered was a reliable source. . . . "Well, Sire, I apologize for repeating what you've already heard so many times before, but it doesn't seem to be a stretch -"

"Yes, it does," Arthur said bitterly.

"But, my lord, if you'd just listen, I'm sure you'll agree -"

"I'm sure I won't agree. I do value your opinion, Uncle, but nobody, not even you, will be able to convince me that Merlin loves me."

Agravaine blinked, genuinely puzzled. "I said nothing of love, Sire. I meant only . . . additional admiration than what an average servant feels towards a king."

"No!" Arthur said angrily. "Merlin does not have additional admiration for me, or whatever it is you think. He likes me, just as any friend likes a friend."

"So, he's a friend now?" Agravaine asked. "He's no longer just a servant?"

"He's never been just a servant!" Arthur bit. When he realized what he said, his cheeks turned a distant shade of red. "He's . . . he's always been a - a friend," he stammered.

Agravaine eyed him, confused and slightly worried. Morgana would not be happy when he relayed this information back to her. Agravaine was continually praised by those around him that he was rather . . . decent at reading into situations and the emotions of those involved, and it was quiet obvious that Arthur, well . . . Arthur was not entirely telling the truth.

The elder remained silent.

Arthur recovered and said, a bit harshly, "Are we finished discussing Merlin?"

Agravaine nodded sagely.

"Good," Arthur said, returning his flustered attention to the maps and papers spread across the table.

Merlin had the day off.

It was an occurrence that didn't happen often; in fact, it was the first day off Merlin had in the greater half of two years.

And Merlin had so many things he wanted to do.

He was going to try that vanishing spell that Gaius advised him not to; he was going to investigate that awful smell that was coming from one of Gaius' cabinets; he was going to explore the depths of the castle, (for who knows what else Uther hid there that just hadn't been found yet); he was going to pick flowers and make a bouquet, just to make his gloomy bedroom look happier.

At least, that was what he planned on doing when he drifted into sleep the night before.

Now, Merlin didn't want to leave his bed. He suddenly understood why Arthur hated mornings.

The sunshine that streamed from Merlin's open window was aimed right at his face, and, with his bed being the unbearably small size that it was, there was no way to avoid the light without falling onto the floor, so he was forced to fully wake up.

He dressed in a daze of exhaustion, almost putting his scarf on backwards and placing both feet into one pant leg.

He shivered. The morning was cooler than he approved of, the dew on the grass outside seeming to waft into the room with him. He shrugged on his jacket and stared at a wall for whoever knows how long, just basking in the fact that he didn't have to work. Instead of going straight to Arthur, he could meander about doing whoever knows what.

He shook himself awake from his stupor and skipped down the stairs to the main room of the chambers.

Gaius was wide awake and already tinkering with various vials containing different colored liquids. (The purple one, Merlin took note of, was emitting some sort of green smoke.)

"Ah, Merlin," Gaius greeted, placing the test tubes carefully into their respective holders. "Good morning."

"Isn't it?" Merlin said airily, placing his hands on his hips. "Nothing is required of me today."

"Yes," Gaius noticed, looking at Merlin over his glasses. "I see Arthur gave you the day off."

Merlin smiled and nodded.

"What do you plan on doing with your new found freedom?"

Merlin let his arms fall to his sides again. "I don't know. Nothing, probably."

Gaius blinked. "You have the day to yourself and you want to do nothing?"

"Well," Merlin explained with a sigh, "I'm always doing something. It might be nice to do nothing for a change."

Gaius eyed him before saying, "I won't make you do chores today, but I will ask you to bring this to Sir Leon. I understand he was injured during training yesterday and it will help relieve his pain."

Merlin smiled. He actually felt rather happy that he was being forced to do something. As much as he wanted to be able to sit around and stare at a wall until lunch time, he felt almost guilty about it. "I'd love to."

Merlin took the small bottle from Gaius' hands and briskly walked to the door. To anybody else, his pace may have seemed way too fast, but he was used to getting from place to place rather quickly, or face the consequences.

Arthur's consequences.

Merlin made his way from Gaius' chambers to the knight's quarters. He didn't expect to run into many people, as it really was earlier in the morning than he suspected most liked to be awake, but, as he turned a sharp corner, he almost ran into a young women, perhaps two years his junior, and her eyes were immediately drawn to his tired face. She tutted, giving him a sympathetic look, and patted him on the back, before continuing on in the direction she was headed.

Merlin looked at her, bewildered, but he ultimately decided that whoever she was, she was crazy, and he dismissed the exchange.

When he passed a knight that he recognized but didn't know the name of, and he, too, smiled softly at him and said, "You have my deepest sympathy, Merlin," Merlin looked at him, his eyebrows furled.

"Why?" he asked.

The knight merely shook his head and kept walking.

Merlin, as he was feeling rather sleep deprived, grew annoyed even after the second encounter. He felt relieved when he saw Gwaine turn the corner coming up ahead.

"Gwaine," he greeted with a smile.

Gwaine looked at him with startled eyes. "Merlin," he responded, "You're awake."

Merlin tilted his head, confused. "What do you mean? Why wouldn't I be?"

The knight rubbed the back of his neck, flustered. Merlin had never seen the man before him flustered, and it made him slightly uneasy.

"What's the matter?" he asked cautiously. He was truly afraid of the answer.

"Well, I just figured that . . . since Arthur, um . . . decided your . . . assistance was no longer . . . necessary, I would've thought you would start sleeping in," he said, clearing his throat.

Merlin was so relieved he could have laughed. "I wasn't fired."

Gwaine nodded, understandingly. "Of course not. Now, if you excuse me, I have . . . someplace else to be . . . that isn't here. . . ." He shook his hair out of his eyes and walked past Merlin, his red cape billowing behind him.

Merlin scrunched his eyebrows together, watching Gwaine walk away until he disappeared from sight. He thought his day off was going to go much smoother than this.

When Merlin turned to make his way to Leon, he almost ran into a young girl. She had red hair, freckles, pale skin, and was dressed like a commoner, and her eyes were kind and gentle.

"Hello, Merlin," she said brightly, giving him a small wave.

Merlin felt his heart melt at the sight. He'd always loved children. "Hello; what's your name?"

Merlin didn't question how she knew his name because the people of Camelot just . . . knew his name. He supposed it came with being the king's manservant, but, then again, his opinion and position was always held higher than any other king's manservant was in the past, so maybe they knew he was rather good friends with Arthur.

He also liked to think that he was held in the protective hands of the people of Camelot, like a younger brother, or at least some distant cousin, and that everybody knew who he was because they were all one big family.

"My name is Lanueh," she said with a smile. But, taking in his appearance, her smile slowly fell. "I'm sorry, Merlin."

Merlin's smile fell in accordance with hers. "For what?" he asked. If she were an adult, he would have been rude and angry about it, because, honestly? she was the fourth person to act extremely suspicious around him, and he was already tired to begin with.

"Well, I know how much Arthur meant to you -"

Merlin frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Well, Merlin," Lanueh said with an incredulous laugh, "It was plain enough for all of Camelot to see."

Merlin raised an eyebrow and said, "What was plain enough for Camelot to see?"

Lanueh good-naturedly tapped Merlin's upper arm, (that was all she could reach), and responded, "You know, Arthur and Merlin; the king and his manservant."

"Yes, I'm well aware of our names and status," Merlin said folding his arms. "But how exactly does that have to do with -"

Lanueh searched Merlin's face as he spoke, her smile increasing by the second. "So, the rumors are false?" she interrupted.

"What rumors?" Merlin asked, his hands lifting up slightly in frustration.

"Oh, goodness, you gave all of Camelot a real fright!" she said with a relieved laugh. "We all thought you and Arthur had a falling out, and that would not have -"

"A falling out?" Merlin asked.

"Well, yes," Lanueh said. "It's very clear that you two have strong feelings for each other."

Merlin's eyes widened and he hastened to deny the accusations, when Lanueh leaned towards him and whispered,

"Some even say love. But you know what I think?"

Merlin released the tension in the muscles of his shoulders. "What's that?"

Lanueh giggled behind her hand. "I think you're destined to be together!"

Merlin blushed at the mention of destiny, and he was surprised to find how well his and Arthur's romance fit into the Great Dragon's cryptic relaying of his destiny.

Just as Merlin was about to respond, the king in question burst into the corridor, anger on his face and in the fast pace of his movements. When he spied Merlin, he marched straight up to him and placed a firm hand on his shoulder.

"I need to speak with you," he commanded, glancing at the young girl who was watching him and Merlin in excitement. "In private."

Lanueh laughed giddily before skipping away from the two of them.

Arthur silently led Merlin to his chambers, his arms folded and his boots clicking on the stone floor. Merlin was afraid to say anything; the silence was too fragile even to breath through. He absentmindedly fidgeted with his neckerchief, placed the vial of medicine intended for Leon into the pocket of his old-and-faithful, brown jacket, and blinked more times than he was used to.

Merlin shut Arthur's chamber door behind him, turned slowly to face Arthur and asked in a quiet voice, "What's the matter, Sire?"

"Ever since you became my manservant, everybody has been telling me you love me," Arthur said, bluntly, leaning heavily on his large armchair.

Merlin blushed and he rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, well, ever since I became your manservant, everybody has been telling me you love me," he retorted.

Arthur rubbed at his eyes. "And how exactly are we supposed to stop these rumors? They've been left to fester for years, Merlin."

Merlin leaned against the door, letting his head bang back against the wood. "I've been receiving sympathy looks and gestures all morning."

"What for?" Arthur asked.

Merlin let his head rolled onto his shoulder. "They think because I have the day off that you and I had a 'falling out.'"

Arthur huffed. "Great, so even when we're not together . . . people think we're together!"

Merlin groaned just at hearing the words spoken aloud. "There's not a very easy way to get out of this, Sire."

"I know, Merlin, thank you for your brilliant insight," he said bitterly.

"I'm serious."

"And you think I'm not?"

Merlin took a deep breath, pushed himself off of the door, and began to pace. "Gaius suspected us. And he talked to me about it."

"Gwaine," Arthur said simply. "Twice."

Merlin winced. "Yeah, I don't envy you there."

"No," Arthur agreed, shaking his head.

They were silent for a moment before Merlin said suddenly, "It's ridiculous, though, isn't it?"

"What?" Arthur asked, looking over at Merlin.

"You know . . . us. As . . . whatever they think we are."

Arthur nodded and said too quickly, "Of course. Completely ridiculous."

"Yes."

"Absolutely preposterous."

"Absolutely."

They were silent again.

"But, how'd they even get there?" Merlin pressed.

"Get where?"

Merlin's cheeks turned pink. "They made a pretty big leap between friendship and love."

Arthur nodded. "Indeed."

"But . . . it's not right, right?"

Arthur scowled. "Of course it's not right."

"No, Sire, I mean . . . we can't look like we're . . . admiring each other all the time. To everybody, right?"

Arthur blinked. "We can't. Because if we did, then we would be."

Merlin's eyebrows screwed up in confusion. "I don't understand."

"Well, Merlin, for once I don't, either."

They were silent again.

"We're just friends," Arthur said suddenly, as if he were clarifying for the both of them. "Just friends."

Merlin smiled. "So, I've been elevated from 'just my manservant' status?"

Arthur laughed. "That's never been your status. You've always been my friend."

Merlin felt his heart leap inside of him, stretching his chest uncomfortably and making his stomach contract with excitement. He took a deep breath to calm himself. "And you've always been my friend."

Arthur smiled at him, walking over to the door where Merlin stood. He placed a friendly hand on his manservant's shoulder.

Merlin quivered under his king's grasp, feeling the warmth and strength in just the fingers of the great knight. The black-haired man smiled at him, trying to gain control of his facial expressions and the trembling nervousness that he felt.

Arthur looked deep into Merlin's eyes, temporarily entranced. "Good," he finally said in a low voice, his hand tightening on Merlin's bony joint. He blinked and averted his attention to his manservant's shoulder. "You're extremely thin."

Merlin's dreamy face fell. "Oh, thank you."

Arthur shook his head hastily. "No, no, no, I didn't mean it like that," he corrected. "You just . . . you need to eat an entire feast on your own, that's all."

Merlin laughed, his head tipping back slightly.

Arthur's eyes were immediately drawn to his neck. The skin was just as pale as the rest of Merlin's body, (that Arthur had seen, the king mentally corrected himself with an inner-blush), it was smooth-looking, and warm, and inviting, and Arthur just . . . Arthur just wanted to. . . .

"Merlin," he said in a voice higher-pitched than normal.

Merlin focused once more on Arthur's eyes, which were currently lustful and reluctant. "What's the matter?" he asked.

"Um . . ." Arthur said, his voice slightly shaking with desire. He decided that whatever he wanted to say couldn't be said with words, so he glanced helplessly at Merlin's lips, before his eyes flicked back to his manservant's bright (and wide) blue eyes.

Merlin seemed to understand. At least, Arthur thought he understood, judging by the way his cheeks were rapidly turning red.

"Arthur -" Merlin began, his lips, slightly parting as he avoided the king's eyes.

And seeing Merlin's mouth move instantly incapacitated Arthur, and he pushed forward, wholly against his will, gripping Merlin's other shoulder firmly.

Merlin, not expecting to be suddenly assaulted by a pair of lips, almost stumbled backwards due to the impact itself; but he was held in place by Arthur's arms, which clung to him, (Merlin would say desperately, but not aloud if he wanted to keep his head).

Merlin didn't know what to do. He was afraid of reacting, but he was equally apprehensive about not reacting. He couldn't deny that he quite enjoyed feeling Arthur's soft lips slide against his own, possessive, protective, trying to be dominant. Merlin just couldn't allow Arthur to think he was dominant.

(Merlin already knew Arthur was dominant, but there was no fun in just submitting.)

Finally, Merlin's eyes fluttered shut and he reciprocated the kiss. He opened his mouth against Arthur's, allowing the king's tongue to enter and explore. Their tongues fought playfully, but, as Merlin expected, Arthur proved the stronger, and wrapped his arms around Merlin's waist.

Merlin, almost immediately, placed one hand on the side of Arthur's face and another on his chest, stepping further into Arthur's shelter.

Arthur bit down lightly on Merlin's bottom lip, emitting a long moan from the back of Merlin's throat. Merlin, in turn, wrapped his fingers in Arthur's thick blonde hair, gripping tightly and pulling slightly. Arthur sucked in a breath and let out a sigh through his nose.

The two took turns trying to make sounds of pleasure escape the other until the heat was unbearable between them and they needed to step back in order to retain some of their sanity.

They broke a part and Arthur, still holding Merlin to him tightly, panted into his manservant's mouth, "I should give you the day off more often."