Gwen notices first. It's his smile. Merlin's smile. He's grinning, but his eyes are pinched. In pain or fear or sorrow, and Gwen's fingers start to slow as she sews. "You all right, Merlin?"

"Just tired," he tells her, and Merlin forcibly brightens his smile, lifting his eyes.

She nods, but something feels off. "Alright."

Percival notices next. He's in the market, looking for… he's forgotten, actually. All he knows is Merlin, tilting away from a brutish-looking man. Curling his shoulders and fingers and eyes and—he looks terrified.

Percival's never seen Merlin scared. Not once. Not when a gang of bandits cascaded out of the woods or Morganna appeared with an army at her beckoning or a dragon swooped down in a wall of flames. Merlin doesn't scare. Which is why Percival's fingers curl around the hilt of his sword as he barrels closer.

The man slips into the crowd before just before he arrives, and Percival stops beside Merlin. "You alright?" he asks.

Merlin startles, skittering to the side and his head turning up, hands raised in defense. Then he sees Percival's concerned face and he stops, arms dropping, his body shuddering with breath. "Oh. It's you."

Percival can't seem to let go of his sword because if Merlin is scared than he sure as hell is too. "Are you alright, Merlin? Who was that?"

Merlin contorts his face trying to look confused. He fails miserably, the fear still obvious in his eyes and mouth. "Who was who?"

Percival feels something cold slither down his back at the response. "That man."

"Oh." Merlin gives a half-hearted shrug, but it looks more like a shiver. "Nobody. Just wanted directions."

"Are you sure you're alright?"

"Yeah," says Merlin, and he makes some excuse about fetching things for Gaius and runs off.

Then Leon notices. Merlin is… skittery. He's cleaning Arthur's chest-plate in the armory, growing smaller with every scrape of sound. Leon sets his sword into its stand with a clang and Merlin jumps so violently he falls. Hard. Limbs knocking into the solid floor, smacking into the table legs.

"You alright, Merlin?" Leon goes to give him a hand up and Merlin shies away like a nervous horse, standing at a slant—tilted away from Leon. He lets out a shuddery little sound, possibly "Fine", as he walks around until the table is between them, straightening.

Leon's eyes pinch. He scrutinizes Merlin, gaze catching on his arm. "You're holding your arm strangely. Did you hurt it in the fall?" He breaks forward half a step, "Let's take you to Gauis."

Merlin shakes his head. He jolts back at Leon's approach and clutches his arm closer, fingers splayed like he's afraid to move them. "I'm fine. Thank you, Leon."

Leon goes back to the opposite side of the table and sits, working his muddy boots off. "The patrol today was rather eventful, did I tell you? Gwaine's horse, Gary, threw a shoe and Gwaine had to…." He keeps talking and watches in his peripheral as Merlin slowly relaxes. He starts cleaning Arthur's armor again, wincing with every scrape.

"And Gwaine shouted, 'I was almost killed with a fishing rod once!'"

Merlin lets out a soft little laugh. "He tell you who almost killed him?" he asks, voice smaller than normal.

Leon looks up at him and shakes his head, mouth quirking into a smile. "No, actually he didn't mention it."

Merlin's smile brighten just a little. He gestures to himself.

Leon grins. "You?!" he asks, half-laughing. "What happened?"

And Merlin tells him.

And when Leon leaves, he's a little less skittery.

It's back in full force at dinner, Merlin shifting anxiously behind Arthur. Leon doesn't like it.

Arthur notices because Merlin affects absolutely everything, and even the air is slowly growing unsettled. He's noticed the lingering looks of the other knights and turned to look himself and something isn't quite right.

Merlin is walking strangely today. Small, slow steps when he usually has the broadest of strides. Merlin is composed entirely of gangly limbs and neckerchiefs and he's reigning his limbs in so that he's naught more than a sliver of space. He's walking so strangely, in fact, that Arthur can't help but notice. It's almost like he's trying to hide a limp.

Arthur walks beside him, but it's the slowest walk to the training field he's had in a decade. His head slips down to watch Merlin's boots. To watch the pace of them, because he's not quite sure which leg the servant is favoring. The steps are uneven only barely. His left. He's favoring his left.

The scrutiny unsettles Merlin, who scuttles forward faster and almost drops to one knee when his leg won't support the longer stride. He scrambles back straight and half-turns, shoulders curling, hands raised, "What are you doing?"

Arthur looks at his face. He's panicked, Arthur realizes, and can't stop the worry that settles in his gut. Merlin never panics, not really. But it's written in the bobbing of his throat and the flick of his eyes from Arthur's hands to his feet to his eyes and back. He's putting distance between them, making sure not to turn his back and to keep his arms up to shield himself. It's purely defensive. And full of fear. It's wrong. "What happened to your leg?" he asks.

Merlin's panic grows. He gives a full body shudder and jerks backward. "Nothing. It's fine. Slept funny."

"Did you see Gaius?"

"Course."

"So if I talk to Gaius, he'll tell me you saw him and there's nothing wrong with it?"

Merlin won't even look at him now. Someone walks past and he flinches bodily. "It's fine," he says.

Arthur tilts his head. "Are you alright, Merlin?"

Merlin straightens. Brightens. Normals. So fast it gives Arthur whiplash. "Yeah."

"Are you hurt?" he asks, and Merlin's eyes pop up to meet Arthur's.

"What?"

"Are you hurt?"

"I… I just said I'm alright. I…" Merlin's head spins around. What or who he's looking for, Arthur doesn't know.

"It's a simple yes or no question."

"I…" Merlin looks confused. It's a different question and he's forced to think about it. It's also more direct, and hopefully Merlin has some qualms about giving an outright lie. Arthur already knows the answer is yes. He's just waiting for Merlin to acknowledge it. Hoping that he will and they can deal with it together.

"Arthur," says Merlin.

"Yeah?"

"I… If… What kind of… treatment of servants is permitted? Like if I…" Merlin is having a terrible time finding the words. Arthur just waits, face open, hoping this isn't leading where he thinks it's leading. "I mean they can't… shouldn't… how are servants supposed to be… treated…" Arthur suspects that's not the word he really means, "when they screw up?"

Arthur wants to answer the question directly. Means to, actually, but when he opens his mouth, his tongue is too closely linked to the scary conclusions he's jumping to, "Has someone hurt you? A knight or a lord or a master of house?"

Merlin squints his eyes. He shakes his head. "Nevermind," he says, "it's nothing." He turns. Turns his back to Arthur and starts walking again. Arthur grabs his arm and stops him, ignoring the jump. "Merlin, no one should be doing anything worse than a few hours in the stocks. And definitely not to you, because you're my servant and I'm the only one allowed to reprimand you. They shouldn't be giving you any work or punishments at all unless it goes through me and nothing has. Merlin, tell me what this is about, you're scaring me."

Merlin won't look at him. "Forget about it, Arthur. It's nothing." Merlin pulls from his grip and walks on.

Arthur blocks him. "No. You are not nothing. The other servants are not nothing, and I will not stand for anyone to be unfairly treated. It's unacceptable in my court, and I need you to tell me what's going on right now so that I can put a stop to it, because you and the other servants are my responsibility."

"Forget it, Arthur, I don't know why I said anything."

"Merlin." Two eyes flick up. "You never answered me. Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine," Merlin says.

Arthur shakes his head and blocks him when he starts forward again. "It's 'yes' or 'no'. Are you hurt?"

"I have to go, Arthur."

"We're headed to training together. There's not much you can do there without me. Look at me, Merlin. Please. I need you to answer this."

It's the please, Arthur thinks, that has Merlin stop and still, that has him breathing out, "Yes."

"Thank you." Arthur looks at Merlin. "I think we'll skip training today. What do you say we go for a ride instead? You gather up some knights and ready the horses and we'll make a day of it."

Merlin sighs, but he turns and walks slowly away and Arthur assumes that means he's going to do as asked.

It's Percival, Leon, and Elyan that Merlin gathers, and Arthur is surprised only by the lack of a certain rogue. "No Gwaine?"

"Couldn't find him," says Merlin, leading Arthur's charge and his own mare from the stables.

He mounts well enough, considering his leg is injured.

In the end, the ride is not as fruitful as Arthur had hoped it would be.