The party of men hastily made their way through the grand hallways of the castle, determination steadily pulsating through them. They would, every so often, run into a group of engrossed chamber maids that sent the assemblage concerned glances before returning to their previous quests. They continued to ramble through the endless fortress, leaving behind a spotted trail of blood. Each step seemed to increase the weight of the knight, tenfold. Gwaine had fallen into a state of profound unconsciousness due to the generous amount of blood he had lost during the excursion, leaving Arthur and his servant to each other's incredibly awkward company. A looming silence fell over the pair, for the only sounds that surrounded them were their own footsteps and the drag of Gwaine's leather boots. Arthur noted how beautifully Merlin's dark hair bobbed up and down with each one of his broad steps. Masking a grin, Merlin distantly admired the adorable way Arthur was trying not to look at him. To the nobleman's delight, the young warlock had removed his scarf before this escapade had taken place, leaving his sharp collar bone exposed to Arthur's wandering eyes. The prince unintentionally licked his lips, feeling the muscles in his neck begin to tense up...

"...you're doing it again, Arthur."

Returning his attention to the hallways before him, he felt the urge to say something- anything to break the tension between him and his "servant." Still averting his eyes from Merlin's, he murmured tensely, "So... this morning... that was-," Arthur ineptly cleared his throat.

Merlin finished the noble's sentence within the safety of his mind,"...perfect... extraordinary... fantastic... overwhelming... superb... shocking... divine... outstanding... what I've been craving for years?"

"...strange," Arthur managed a smirk, masking his true emotions remarkably well.

Merlin nodded in agreeance, "All is forgotten, Sire..." he glanced over at the prince, longingly taking in his impeccable bone structure, the way his golden hair swayed upon his forehead... those delectable lips...

"You should be happy, Merlin... everything has returned to normal... well, everything besides the fact that you still constantly want to rip Arthur's shirt off..."

"Stupid bloody Merlin and his stupid bloody face... and his lilac scented hair... his adorable retorts... those cheekbones..."

An unspoken sadness drifted between the two young men. Refraining from speaking out again, Arthur tightly gripped Gwaine's armor causing his knuckles to turn a bright white. He could feel beads of sweat begin to settle near his temples as his eyelashes rapidly batted. Why was he so anxious? He was always at his most comfortable when Merlin was by his side, but not today. Today, Arthur felt… exposed, vulnerable, weak… and no matter how hard he tried, the prince could not shake these unfamiliar feelings that engrossed his noble heart. He glanced back at Merlin, bringing about a rush of brilliant memories. He wanted- needed Merlin to know how special he was, how much he'd changed Arthur, how he'd sculpted him into a far better man then he was on the day they had first met when Merlin's witty remarks had immediately captivated him. The prince yearned for ownership over this magnificent creature… to be with him always…

"… I am my own man… I will let no one, not even my own father, tell me who I am and who I am not allowed to love… you are your own man, Arthur. Nothing will ever be able to stand between you and Merlin."

Conjuring up every ounce of courage he had, Arthur looked over at the (almost sickeningly thin) warlock as they drifted closer and closer to Giaus' chambers.

"Merlin… I-I have something rather important to discuss... with you..."

"I know, I know. If I'm not in the stalks by 4 you'll feed me to the dogs," his voice was brimming with over exaggeration, "and if your clothes aren't washed by 7 you'll be sure I never see the sunlight again, and if-"

The prince cut him off, mid-rant, "Please... Merlin- this is a subject that is very dear to me."

Slightly puzzled by the sudden severity in the prince's voice, Merlin nodded, "Of course, Sire. I'm listening," he instinctively went to grab Arthur's hand, but abruptly stopped before their skin was allowed to touch. Gloomily drawing it back, he let out a defeated sigh, but made sure it wasn't loud enough for the prince to hear.

"... he's listening. Bloody hell, Arthur, NOW what do you say?"

The prince chided himself for his lack of poetic charisma. He couldn't breath correctly around Merlin, let alone stitch together a heart-felt speech.

"I'm not sure how to say this, Merlin."

The manservant furrowed his brow. He was usually able to read Arthur's handsome features quite easily, but for the first time, Merlin was unable to see what was truly rattling around in that kingly brain of his. All he was able to gather was that something was deeply troubling the prince, and to see his Arthur so distraught, greatly troubled the young warlock as well.

"...Arthur?"

"Merlin, this morning... I-I... I've never-" each syllable became harder and harder to pronounce, "Just say it, Arthur!"

"Merlin, I love y-"

The pounding of oncoming footsteps interrupted the nobleman's confession. A figure (almost as lanky as Merlin) came whirling around one of the sharp corners and darted furiously towards the company. It was Carmine, the most recent manservant to Sir Gwaine. The aquamarine shirt that he wore contradicted greatly with his thick, blonde hair. As he skidded to an abrupt stop at the feet of the wounded knight, Merlin noted how the brilliance of his eyes seemed to rival only that of an emerald's.

Not yet acknowledging the other men's presence, Carmine cursed under his breath, glaring at the Gwaine's blood soaked armor, "I leave for 30 minutes! 30 minutes! I've been searching this whole bloody castle all day for this prat!" exhausted, he wiped his forehead of the stress induced sweat that settled upon it. Though he was obviously flustered, there was an underlying thankfulness that resided within the depths of his voice.

Taken in by the servant's non-chalant behavior towards his master, Merlin giggled uncertainly, "...you must be new. You really shouldn't speak of him like that. They're easily offended," the sorcerer offered a friendly smile that was progressively returned by the unfamiliar manservant. Carmine nodded his head at the warlock, tipping some of his golden hair into his line of vision, "And who might you be?"

Arthur rolled his eyes, uneasily breathing out, "Of course… of BLOODY course… you finally work up the gull to tell Merlin you love him, and you're interrupted by a simpleton… real confidence booster."

"I'm Merlin and... uh..," Merlin tilted his head towards his (suddenly less enthralling) muse, "this is Prince Arthur."

The moment the word 'prince' entered the air, Carmine winced, tightly shutting his emerald eyes in despair,"Arthur...son of Uther Pendragon...that Arthur?"

Annoyed by both the unwelcomed interruption and the fact that Carmine seemed to have drawn the full attention of his Merlin, Arthur dropped the wounded Gwaine into the servant's arms, "The very same," he then protectively stepped in between the two of them and crossed his arms.

Carmine clung to the knight's armor whilst bowing anxiously, "My apologies, Sire. I didn't know you were- I meant no disrespect."

Arthur replied coldly, "Deliver Gwaine to Giaus and you might be forgiven yet," he could feel Merlin contorting his thin body from behind him to get a better look at the green-eyed manservant.

"Thank you, Sire. You are most gracious," he briskly turned to flee, but was abruptly stopped by a sudden and overwhelming urge. Twisting his head around to meet the eyes of the young sorcerer, Carmine grinned, "You said… your name was Merlin?"

Straightening his back, Merlin silently nodded his head.

"I shall see you around then… Merlin," the word sweetly danced upon his tongue. Carmine lustfully stared at the manservant almost in awe, his luminescent eyes drifting aimlessly over the showing porcelain skin. He shook his head of the fantasies that had suddenly drifted into it. Remembering he had yet to introduce himself, his glimmering eye's returned to Merlin's, "My name's Carmine."

The fascinated warlock awkwardly shifted his feet, "Very nice to meet you, Carmine."

Feeling Gwaine's blood trickle down his left hand, Carmine began walking backwards, bumping into many columns as he kept his eyes fixed upon the opposite manservant's, "Well, I should… probably get going."

"Splendid idea," the prince hurriedly turned the man around, breaking his gaze with Merlin, and gestured down the corridor, "I believe Giaus' chambers are down there."

Without another thought, Carmine briskly trotted down the sunlight filled hallway as Gwaine groaned incoherently. He could feel Merlin's eyes burning through his back. The sorcerer looked down at his now trembling hands spotted with the blood of his companion. There was something hypnotic and chilling about the manservant which only fascinated Merlin further...

"What a strange name... Carmine."

Arthur glared at the troublesome manservant as he flew down the hallway at a surprisingly swift pace. Returning his attention to Merlin, the prince timidly walked up to him while placing one of his hands upon the boy's boney shoulder. Merlin shivered at the unexpected embrace. The noble's voice was smooth and understanding, sending familiar shivers up Merlin's back, "Be in my chambers at six, sharp. There is still much that I need to discuss with you," awkwardly retrieving his hand, he sauntered down the empty corridor as beams of light reflected against his superb armor.

Clearing his conflicted mind, Merlin shouted after the fleeting figure, "But what about the stalks and your floors and the laundry and-"

Without turning around, Arthur shouted, "This matter is far more important, Merlin."

"Yes, Sire..." the frazzled sorcerer uncertainly walked in the opposite direction, while mussing his raven hair. All the while, a single word incessantly flying through the recesses of his mind.

"Carmine... Carmine... Carmine..."