The Knights Have a Thousand Eyes Part 4

[stakeaclaim]

The Knights Have a Thousand Eyes

Part 4

Another day, another training session.

Squinting into the morning sun. The clang and crash of sword and shield, and the scent of oiled metal and leather. It was the high point of Arthur’s day. He loved the reassuring weight of the armour and weaponry, the strain of muscles, the sting of perspiration, and the swing, step, turn and thrust of the dance. It felt honest in the way so few other things did.

His body. His knights. These were things he could control. The problems encountered here? These were things he could fix - straightening Kay’s arm, forcing Caradoc to relax and bend his knees. Complex enough to engage him and tear him away from the pondering of imponderables, simple enough for him to relax and enjoy the temporary freedom it gave him.

It was after this that everything normally went tumbling downhill. Meetings where his opinion was sought and disregarded, problems where there were no good solutions, suffering Morgana’s censure, dealing with disrespectful menservants with mischievous grins and challenging eyes….

As if on cue, Merlin appeared, easily distinguishable by his mop of dark hair and distinct loping stride. He was garbed in rudimentary chainmail, enough to protect against accidental slices and cuts. His blunted training sword that Arthur had chosen for him was grasped loosely in his hand.

The distraction he provided allowed Bedevere to attempt to seize an advantage.

‘Merlin asked about that woman, this morning,’ Bedevere informed him whilst attempting to slip beneath Arthur’s guard.

‘Huh,’ Arthur grunted. ‘I might have guessed he’d ask someone. He’s got enough curiosity to kill a dozen cats.’

He reacted quickly and blocked, but it was only a reactive move. Bedevere continued to press forward, probing for weakness.

‘I breakfasted with him this morning. He has his charm. I like him.’
Arthur was quick to deflect the questing blade.

‘He had a second breakfast? He’s not going to be at his most agile during practice.’ Arthur gave a slightly mean smile. ‘I’ll soon teach him not to pig-out before training.’

Taking the deflection, Bedevere smoothly changed his angle of attack.

‘I think he likes you. You’re all he talked about,’

Again Arthur blocked easily.

‘Because you two have so much in common,’ he mocked.

Arthur was beginning to find his feet again and mount a small attack of his own.

‘What was he supposed to talk about?’ he continued.

Their blades clashed. Attack and parry. Forward and retreat.

’Hunting and riding? Battle tactics? Or maybe you’d care for Ealdor gossip?’

‘Okay. Point,’ Bedevere conceded. ‘But he still likes you.’

‘Of course he likes me,’ he replied. ‘I’m wonderful.’

Bedevere just grinned at his arrogance and continued to search for a way in.

‘And you defied your father, risked your life for him. There’s something about Merlin, isn’t there? He is more than a servant to you.’

Arthur met the thrust with his shield. His block was solid and his follow through was true.

‘And yet he’s still a servant,’ Arthur replied dispassionately.

Their blades crossed with the accompanying harsh clang of iron on iron.

‘A servant?’ Bedevere asked. ‘Is that some type of peasant? You know…? Those peasants who are no different to you and me?’

And his sword slid smoothly forward in a copy of an attack he’d recently learnt from Arthur. It was as successful for him as it had been for the prince. It cut neatly through his defences, until the point held steady against the rough beat of Arthur's heart.
Bedevere gave an insouciant look.

‘Do you yield?’ he inquired politely.

‘You’d use my own tactics against me? Clever,’ Arthur admitted.

‘What can I say? I’m a quick study,’ Bedevere replied, and now he was openly grinning in triumph.

Arthur dropped his guard and reluctantly conceded victory to the other man.

‘Have I told you that I’m glad you’re on my side?’

‘Maybe. But it never hurts to tell me again. Flattery. Bribery. They’re all good.’

‘If only everyone were as easily pleased,’ Arthur mourned.

Across the field Merlin appeared to be gazing raptly at Arthur. Bedevere smiled and caught his eye. Even from this distance it was clear that Merlin was embarrassed at being discovered staring at the prince.

There was definitely something there on Merlin’s side, he decided. And Arthur certainly seemed fond of him, but more than that Bedevere couldn’t say.

Arthur turned to see who his knight had been greeting. And frowned.

‘Anyway, what on earth possessed you to breakfast with my servant?’

Bedevere heard the possessive note with interest. And didn’t bother querying why Arthur also allowed his servant to share his meal.

‘I went to apologise. He kindly invited me to eat and we began talking. He has absolutely no idea of social barriers or class distinction, does he? Anyway, we’ve become firm friends, I’ve totally fallen for your ridiculous manservant!’ he laughed.

Arthur’s grin froze on his face.

‘Don’t even joke about it!’

He already had the kitchen staff, Morgana’s maid, the laundry mistress and the stable boys wrapped around his elegant fingers, he could at least have the decency to leave his knights out of it.

‘What?’ Bedevere teased lightly. ‘Oh no, don’t tell me Gawain was right. His smugness will be unbearable.’

‘Well. I’m pretty certain that Gawain is never right, so I wouldn’t worry too much. Might help if I knew what you were talking about though.’

‘He thought you might have fallen for Merlin, you know, seeing as you’re not actually shagging anyone else at the moment. And can I just say, for someone of your age? Deeply unnatural.’

‘Your delicacy truly astounds me,’ Arthur sighed. ‘But you should know it would never be Merlin. It’s unfair. Most servants are too intimidated to say ‘boo’ to a goose, never mind ‘no’ to a prince.’

‘I suppose. Although he’s not exactly easily intimidated, is he? And I could sort of see the attraction if it was him.’ Bedevere replied, trying to gauge Arthur’s reaction.

Arthur just gave a noncommittal grunt, unwilling to discuss it any further, and Bedevere diplomatically changed the subject.

‘Oh, I almost forgot. Willard is going to write you a new poem!’ Bedevere said mischievously.

Pure horror stuck at Arthur.

‘Oh please no! If you’re any sort of a friend you wouldn’t encourage him.’

‘I did suggest that perhaps you didn’t shine like a god.’

‘Do gods shine?’ Arthur asked.

‘My point exactly!’ Bedevere exclaimed triumphantly.

…

Merlin watched the practice, his eyes following the darting blades with interest. He had better appreciation of their skill and speed now that he had firsthand experience of sword fighting.

As Bedevere had pointedly mentioned the previous day, he couldn’t handle the heavier swords. Too many years of using magic for the more burdensome chores meant that his build was boyish and not as developed as some his age. Still.... He poked at a bicep, discreetly tensing it and secretly pleased to feel it swell. He was definitely starting to build a little bulk around his shoulders and arms. Maybe not the muscles on muscles the knights were developing, but nevertheless a wiry sort of strength. For some reason, he had recently become more conscious of how he looked.

The session seemed to be winding down and none of the men were hobbling or showing outward sign of injury. Surprisingly, it looked like the prince was in a good mood today.

Merlin observed their easy camaraderie and wondered how, despite being a complete prat, Arthur could get it so right with his men. He was a natural at inspiring them. Born to it, Merlin supposed.

And really, how could they not hero-worship him a little when he was like this. Eyes shining, skin glowing from exertion, sweat sheening his face and blond tendrils clinging damply to the nape of his neck. Anyone with eyes would volunteer to follow him blindly.

He began to blush when he realised Bedevere had caught him staring at the prince, but the knight merely acknowledged Merlin with a nod and smile, a nice follow through on his offer of friendship. Maybe these knights weren’t so bad.

Merlin brought up his own sword. He’d grown fond of the stunted little thing. It wasn’t sharpened or honed but it still caught the light in an aesthetically pleasing way. He understood why men bestowed elegant names upon them.

He put his helmet to one side and held the sword out in front, playing with it so that it glinted in the sunlight.

‘I name you Stumpy!’ he declared.

He raised Stumpy higher, attempting to find the perfect angle to shimmer sunlight down the blade, making it glimmer like a hero’s sword from stories of old. A hair on the blade was totally ruining the heroic effect. Heroes didn’t have hairy swords. He flicked at it in annoyance. When it didn’t flitter away he carefully surveyed the blade, running his finger tips down it until they encountered a flaw, a hairline fracture in the metal.

It crossed his mind that Arthur might have purposefully given him a sword that would break, just for the entertainment value. But he discarded the notion as absurd. The prince would hardly jeopardise one of his own with faulty weaponry. And despite all the insults and regular visits to the stocks, Merlin knew he was included under the wing of Arthur’s protection.

It was Arthur’s desperate quest to bring him the healing flower that first made Merlin realise he kind of loved the prat. The lengths he’d go to for a servant were humbling. And even if their destinies weren’t entwined, Merlin would still feel he belonged at the prince’s side, where he was valued and accepted. Well… accepted, as long as he carefully hid what he really was.

He looked up to where Arthur stood, centre of attention as usual. Except, at least half the knights seemed to be staring at him. He wondered what he’d done wrong now.

…

Arthur indicated that the session was over, and picked out half a dozen knights to accompany him on his bandit seeking excursion.

Gawain laid a hand on Arthur’s arm.

‘You seemed tense when you were battling Bedevere. You know, we have a couple of hours before we ride, and I believe I could relieve all that tension, if you wish to join me?’

He allowed his thumb to trail over Arthur’s wrist, the invitation as plain as he could make it.

Arthur just shook his head.

‘I promised my idiot manservant some training in the finer art of swordplay.’

Gawain gave him a considering look. He’d been expecting a brush-off and he held no grudge.

‘You seem remarkably devoted to Merlin. Considering he is such a terrible servant,’ he remarked.

‘He is. Absolutely terrible. Worst manservant ever. Although, he does understand the importance of taking good care of my armour and sword.’ Arthur conceded. ‘And there are other compensations.’

‘Compensations?’ Was that a euphemism, Gawain wondered.

‘As in, uh, compensations?’ he repeated, just to be sure. Because as much as they might banter and tease, everyone knew that the prince never eyed the servants, no matter how attractive.

‘Oh, yes,’ Arthur continued with a smirk because really? Merlin was hilarious. His antics definitely compensated for his lack of skills. ‘He’s endlessly creative, always finding new ways to entertain me.’

Just last week he had entered the room carrying breakfast, carelessly stumbled over Arthur’s belt that was laying on the floor (because Merlin had failed to stow it neatly away the night before), did this weird little pirouette, and with ankles crossed sank almost to the ground, managed to recover and gracefully ended the performance standing upright. Still clutching tight to the breakfast tray. Arthur had given him a round of applause for that one.

‘Quite impressive, actually,’ Arthur finished with a grin.

At first Gawain had thought that they must be talking at cross-purposes, but following such indiscreet disclosures, he could no longer doubt Arthur’s meaning, and was becoming increasingly wide-eyed. He cast furtive looks to where Merlin was standing, oblivious to the prince’s revelations.

The others were also listening in on the conversation, attempting to look casual as they eavesdropped, which wasn’t easy with jaws dropping to the ground.

‘Merlin is Arthur’s current paramour?’ Willard whispered.

Percival gave a confused shake of his head.

‘But Arthur never sleeps with servants, everyone knows that.’

‘Merlin is impressive?’ Caradoc asked, sounding awed.

They glanced across, viewing the erstwhile overlooked manservant in a whole new light. As Arthur’s lover, he was transformed into something infinitely desirable and completely unobtainable.

The chain mail was draped over his tall frame and long limbs. He had a look of intense concentration as he hefted the blunted sword before him, as though testing the balance of it, giving every appearance of actually knowing his arse from his elbow.

And yet, even with his vaguely professional air, he still couldn’t be mistaken for a knight, his figure too waifish and his skin smooth and translucent against his dark, wind-rippled hair. His eyes were huge and when he blinked, ridiculously long lashes cast crescent shadows beneath them…. Gawain caught himself staring and gave an embarrassed cough. Yes, now that he looked closely, he could sort of see the boy’s attractions. He wondered how he could have missed his strange otherworldly beauty.

‘I suppose he is, uh, attractive?’

‘Hmm,’ Arthur replied, not really listening, engaged as he was in wiping down and checking his sword.

‘Arthur and Merlin. Together. It’s like the sun and the moon sharing the sky,’ Willard said dreamily.

‘Enough to make a grown man weep in frustration,’ Montague sighed quietly to Sir Percival.

Percival laid a sympathetic hand on his fellow knight’s shoulder and joined him in gazing at Merlin, who was pouting and earnestly examining the sword in front of him. One hand stroking carefully down the blade. There was something curiously seductive in watching those long fingers caressing the sword. Was that how his fingers moved over Arthur, delicate and light? Percival flushed slightly and his grip tightened on Gawain’s shoulder. He shifted uncomfortably.

Faced with that temptation every day, he really didn’t blame Arthur for giving in and breaking his no servants rule. He might be a prince but he was still only flesh and blood, after all.

He tempered his response to, ‘He has, uh, a pretty kind of mouth. For a man.’

Merlin was looking in their direction now.

Bedevere followed their gaze and with a sly glance at Arthur he nodded in agreement.

‘And quite unusually beautiful eyes. Very expressive.’

Caradoc's eyes flashed to Bedevere in surprise and Bedevere raised his eyebrows, clearly trying to communicate something.

So Caradoc followed his lead and also turned to watch Merlin.

‘His cheekbones are really….' he struggled for a second, but luckily Bedevere was mouthing an appropriate word. If he could just make out what it was…, ‘ex..., exsquee…. Ah! Exquisite,’ he ended more triumphantly than was probably appropriate.

Arthur finally seemed to hear what they were saying.

‘Are you talking about… Merlin?’ he frowned.

‘Skin as fair and fine as my Lady Morgana’s moon-lit beauty,’ Willard waxed lyrical as usual. ‘I cannot fault your taste, Highness’ he continued, seemingly unable to tear his eyes away from Merlin.

Arthur resented the obsequiousness, the sentiment and the sudden insanity.

‘Merlin? Beauty?’ he huffed. He looked for an ally amongst his men. ‘Kay, what do you say to this idiocy?’

Kay went pink.

‘Well… I like him.’ He sounded a little defiant. ‘He makes me laugh.’

‘Quite right!’ Arthur said approvingly. That summed Merlin up. He was damned likeable. And he could make anyone smile, even grumpy Romford softened in his presence.

‘And if he wasn’t, you know. Seeing you,’ Kay continued, ‘then I would have very much liked it if he would consider… but I wouldn’t dream of pursuing it. Not if you and he….’

Arthur’s eyes were growing rounder and rounder, his smile wider and more disbelieving with each comment.

‘You lot honestly think Merlin and I….?’ he said with an incredulous laugh. ‘Have you all gone mad?’

‘To speak bluntly, you have our loyalty, surely you know that? No word of gossip will pass our lips.’

‘I swear, Uther will not hear of it from me. Or any of us,’ Romford growled and glared intimidatingly at each of the other knights until they each nodded or grunted their agreement.

Leaving Arthur with his mouth flapping open and speechless. There was no point even disputing it, they were all so convinced. Instead he quickly formulated a plan.

‘Merlin, come here!’ he commanded imperiously.

Merlin sighed. The Prince did have a tendency to treat him as one of his dogs. ‘Here, Merlin’, ‘Sit, Merlin’, ‘Fetch, Merlin’.

Still, Merlin obediently trotted up, eyes on Arthur, not really noticing that he was the intense focus of the group.

He cocked his head and looked inquiringly at the prince. Who merely flicked an eyebrow at him, and brought his mouth into a stern line.

‘Kiss me, Merlin,’ he ordered.

Merlin gaped. Okay, that was definitely not a command Arthur often used on his dogs.

‘Uh. Kiss you?’

‘You heard me.’

There was no heckling from the surrounding knights. They were all unusually silent, as though there was some collective breath-holding competition going on. Maybe that was it, and Arthur was trying to win by shocking them into breathing again.

‘Well come on, Merlin. I haven’t got all day.’

He stared at Arthur’s mouth in bemusement. It looked haughty and arrogant and not particularly kissable at this moment.

Okay, so this was obviously another stupid practical joke. Stupid Arthur and his stupid gang of stupid knights.

Well two could play at this game.

He put a hand to Arthur’s jaw and watched with rising amusement when blue eyes narrowed in suspicion.

‘Oh Arthur!’ he sighed in a light, breathy voice, ‘I thought you’d never ask….’

He angled slightly closer as though moving in for the kiss. There was a sharp intake of breath from one of the knights and if it was a breath-holding competition then Sir Kay had just lost.

‘If only you weren’t such a Royal Prat,’ he sighed, breath caressing Arthur’s cheek.

Arthur’s mouth twitched and Merlin couldn’t keep the act up any longer. He began sniggering, and Arthur’s expression became torn between amusement and outrage. Merlin’s snigger turned into a laugh. He had totally won that round.

‘Oh your face! You didn’t really think I’d do that, did you?’

His hand dropped to his side and he stepped back, triumphant grin lighting up his face.

Kay spluttered. Percival hid a snort inside a cough and Bedevere rubbed his hand over his upper lip to hide a smile.

‘So if you’ve quite finished, how about we start the ‘let’s beat up Merlin’ thing that you enjoy so much, shall we?’

‘It’s called training, Merlin.’

Merlin gave a derisive snort.

‘If you say so. Oh, and by the way your sword is defective,’ Merlin told him.

‘Hah,’ Percival said, but any ribald comment he was about to make was quashed by a glance from his Bedevere.

‘Defective?’ Arthur asked, suddenly all business. ‘Show me.’

Merlin thrust Stumpy under Arthur’s nose.

He squinted and looked down its length, until sharp eyes spotted the small fracture that was worrying Merlin. He was extremely impressed that Merlin had noticed it. Only once had he seen a sword snap during training. It had hit a watching knight in the face and almost taken his eye out. Not pretty.

‘Obviously those long hours of polishing swords have taught you something. Okay, go choose another from the rack.’

Merlin nodded and loped off towards the weapons.

Arthur turned to the knights.

‘I’ll thank you to keep your speculation to yourselves and not be so presumptuous next time.’

Small hope of that, Arthur knew. All his life his every move had been watched and discussed.

‘So you two really aren’t… you know, doing the ‘ear’ thing, then?’ Kay asked. He saw the blank looks and realised that he obviously hadn’t got the hang of knightly slang.

‘I think the answer is no….’ Arthur replied, frowning as he tried work out the gist of the question. ‘Merlin is my servant and that is an end to it.’

But Kay couldn’t be quelled.

‘So you won’t mind if I maybe spend time in Merlin’s company …?’

‘Just a minute,’ Gawain interrupted, ‘why should Kay be given Merlin? I mean, there might be others who are interested.’

‘Indeed! He is quite charming. And if you are going to graciously bestow that boy on some worthy knight then I….’ Romford began somewhat pompously, before being interrupted.

‘Merlin has too much energy and fun to be given to someone old enough to be his….’

‘An older man would care for him faithfully, instead of rushing, butterfly-like, from one new flower to the next.’ This was pronounced with an eye firmly fixed on Gawain.

Bedevere rolled his eyes because honestly, it was the three-legged hound all over again. He might have said it in irritation yesterday but that didn’t make it less true. Merlin was an attractive man, but they had only noticed him after realising he was important to Arthur.

On the other hand, if the couple of flashes of jealousy he’d caught from Arthur were any indication, any interest they showed might stir Arthur to actually work out how he felt. So he joined in the squabble and spurred it to greater heights.

The arguments continued around him, and Arthur thought it strange how these things grew wings and took flight. How one man’s apparent interest inspired others and suddenly some mediocre lady became the latest fashion, with burly men writing bad odes to her cherry red mouth.
And now it appeared Merlin was about to become the hottest thing at court. It was unfathomable.

‘Maybe Merlin doesn’t want ‘faithful’. Maybe he would prefer some other quality like, oh I don’t know. Stamina?’

‘And that shows how much you know! Experience is far preferable to being able to go at it for hours like bloody rabbits!’

‘But I have experience AND stamina so, I must regrettably inform you….’

‘Oh my god,’ Arthur groaned. ‘Will you be quiet, the lot of you!’

‘We only wish to…,’ Gawain began and was firmly quelled by the look in Arthur’s eyes.

‘He may be my servant but is not my possession. You can petition me all you want but it is neither my responsibility nor within my authority to choose anyone for him. As you have seen, Merlin is his own man.’

Kay made to speak and quickly shut his mouth again as Arthur’s gaze dared him to utter one more word.

‘But then, neither do I have the right to stop him keeping company with anyone he chooses.’

Everyone brightened considerably after that statement. Kay and Romford eyed each other like antagonistic dogs. Arthur’s jaw clenched and his eyes turned hard.

‘I know how competitive you can be, but mark me well, I’ll not see him forced, ordered, compromised, blackmailed or needlessly embarrassed by your attentions. You understand me? You win his affection honestly or you’ll answer to me. If you think Hubert fared badly, that will be nothing compared to facing me. That is all I have to say on the subject.’

He left them to butt heads and strode off to join Merlin, who was engrossed in examining the swords. Arthur took the one he appeared to be favouring and weighed it carefully.

‘Hmm.’ He gave Merlin an evaluating glance. ‘You’re stronger than when we started. I think you can manage something heavier.’

He put the smaller sword back and pulled out one with a longer blade.

‘So bigger is better then?’ Merlin said with a regretful glance at poor Stumpy.

Arthur shrugged.

‘Up to a point. Gives you better reach, but too big and it becomes unwieldy and a real pain in the arse. A big sword may look impressive but if you can’t use it effectively then what’s the point?’

Merlin was snorting in amusement. Sometimes he wondered how knights could seriously discuss big swords and long lances.

‘Oh, honestly. You know that your sense of humour is absolutely juvenile, don’t you?’

And really, Merlin may be his age, but he seemed so naive and innocent. Arthur suspected Merlin had never bedded anyone before, and didn’t know if he was more angry or sad to be an onlooker to Merlin’s eventual seduction.

Well, he’d done all he could to ensure that he was treated fairly. And Merlin was quite capable of looking after himself.

‘Come on, then. Put your helmet on and raise your sword. Maybe you’ll actually learn something today.’

‘Yes, sire,’ Merlin replied and obediently did as he was bid.

‘Oh and Merlin? I suppose I’m sorry about earlier.’

‘Oh don’t worry about it.’ Merlin said reassuringly. ‘I mean, you’re insane, obviously. I feel sorry for you. The weight of the princely crown has finally affected your brain. Yesterday it was ‘fight Bedevere, Merlin’, today it’s ‘kiss me, Merlin’. I’m awaiting tomorrow’s ridiculous order with bated breath.’

Arthur tried to repress a smile at the little speech.

‘Still, I would never seriously command that from you or anyone.’

‘That’s okay then. Because seriously I wouldn’t obey you or anyone, either.’

Arthur knew he was labouring the point but he knew his knights, sometimes their enthusiasm could be overwhelming.

‘Good. Because if anyone ever became… insistent, you have my full protection.’

‘As protector of abused man servants?’ Merlin asked playfully.

‘No. As your friend. Now raise your sword, the tip is drooping.’

Despite the helmet that obscured most of Merlin’s features, he could see the light of Merlin’s smile. Servant or no, what else do you call someone who teased, criticised, leapt to your defence and saved your life, if not a friend?

It turned into a remarkably good session and Merlin was actually enjoying himself. He regretted losing Stumpy but was growing just as fond of his new sword and the extra reach it gave him.

Arthur was divulging each knight’s weaknesses and how to take advantage of them. Caradoc was slow; Kay left himself open on the left side, Gawain’s shield tended to drop. For once, Merlin seriously felt like he’d learnt something instead of just being on the receiving end of Arthur’s abundant energy.

And when it was over, Merlin felt easy enough with Arthur to finally broach the subject that was troubling him so much.

‘So who was this Bernadette?’ he asked casually.

And then kicked himself for the abrupt approach as the easy atmosphere immediately dissipated.

‘And what makes you think it’s any business of yours?’ Arthur asked in a tone so frigid that Merlin shivered.

‘I…uh…. It’s not?’

‘Quite. Prepare my horse, I ride in an hour.’

He strode off angrily and Merlin stared unhappily after him. But all the more determined to the root of the damned secret.

A few hours late and he admitted it was beginning to driving him crazy.

He had nothing against secrets. He would be the first to acknowledge that secrets were a necessary part of life at Camelot. Providing he was the one keeping them, of course.

He pursued the Bernadette mystery with as much persistence as any questing knight.

He immersed himself in the depths of the library in search of written evidence of what had occurred. None was immediately evident.

This was followed by bravely approaching the forbidding Geoffrey with his questions. The court scribe and keeper of records eyed him with distaste, and slammed down a heavy tome in a manner that made it clear he wished Merlin was a bug that could be squashed beneath its weight. The thump echoed ominously through the shelves of hidebound parchments, and Merlin had muttered half apologies whilst executing a strategic retreat.

Now he was going to face the dragon. Well, no. He’d already faced the dragon, who had listened with disinterest, blinked lazily, yawned and then fallen back to sleep.

Merlin was facing something worse than a dragon.

His feet carrying through on what his brain hardly dared contemplate, because, despite his brain insisting that it was a terrible idea, here he was outside Morgana’s chamber.

His feet were clearly mad. His hand joined his feet in a fit of mass insanity, and knocked on her door.

He waited half a second. Nope, no answer. He turned away in relief and was about to break into a casual sprint back down the corridor. But too late.

‘Come in. The door’s unlocked.’

He hovered uncertainly, still half considering making a run for it. But curiosity was eating him alive, whereas Morgana would probably do him the courtesy of killing him before devouring him. So he gripped the handle and entered the dragon’s den.

‘Merlin,’ she said pleasantly. ‘A pleasure to see you. Did Arthur send you?’

She was sweeping a hairbrush through shiny ebony tresses. When her eyes met his in the mirror he began blushing and stuttering.

‘What? Yes. I mean, no. Um, not exactly. I uh….’

He should have thought this through. Merlin had no idea how to phrase his questions in a way that didn’t sound weird and creepy, as if he was entitled to know everything about Arthur’s life.

‘Do you like this necklace?’ Morgana asked, holding a shiny ruby necklace to her pale neck.

Merlin stared. He was a man. He had no opinions of necklaces.

Was Morgana testing him?

He felt like a knight with a riddle to solve, where the answer might allow him free passage to whatever he sought. But what was the correct answer? He considered the necklace intently. Shiny. Red. And if he stared too hard the stones changed to bloody drops on her skin. He shook his head clear.

‘Uh…,’ he said eloquently.

‘You’re right, of course.’ she sighed. ‘It’s the gold. There’s too much gold. It makes my skin look sallow and hideous, don’t you think?’

And even though he was a man, he wasn’t that much of a fool. Merlin sensed the hidden trap.
‘Oh no. Not at all. Your skin looks, uh, perfect.’

She smiled. Pearly teeth glinting white against reddened lips.

‘Why thank you. How sweet of you.’

She still looked like a predator, but for now she was somewhat tamed and obliging. Merlin breathed a sigh of relief at passing the test.

‘So what did you want, Merlin’ she asked.

He stepped forward and licked nervously at his lips.

‘It’s about what you said yesterday…?’

It was too much to hope that she’d burst forth eloquently with all he wanted to know.

‘About fitting Arthur’s head into a helmet?’ she teased.

‘Well it can get a bit tight,’ Merlin agreed. ‘But no, not that.’

‘Then what?’ she asked, looking, oh so innocently confused.

This was every bit as bad as he thought it would be. But short of approaching Uther himself, he’d run out of options. So Merlin gritted his teeth and screwed up his courage.

‘You said that he should have learnt his lesson from Bernadette.’

‘Oh, that.’

Merlin almost groaned aloud. She was going to make him fight for every single answer, he knew it.

‘Didn’t he tell you?’ she asked.

He shook his head.

‘Hmm. I’m not surprised. He’s a little… touchy about it.’

‘I sort of gathered that.’

‘It wasn’t his most sparkling moment.’

‘What wasn’t?’

All these hints and half answers were driving him up the wall. Any minute now he was going to begin tearing his hair out in frustration.

‘Morgana. Please….’

Ashamed to be reduced to begging but at this point he didn’t care. He was pragmatic and went with whatever worked.

‘The trouble with Arthur is that he never understood the extent of his power. He’s careless and dangerous in his sheer obliviousness.’

She was growing agitated. The silvered reflection showed her mouth thinning in anger at some memory.

‘He’s thoughtless sometimes,’ Merlin said carefully.

‘And a moment’s thoughtlessness from him is devastation for someone else,’ she replied coldly, turning away from the mirror to confront Merlin.

‘You mean the girl?’ he asked quietly.

She gave a quick nod.

‘He thinks he’s so noble and fair. Ask that poor girl about what’s fair. He ruined her, Merlin.’

Merlin shook his head.

‘I don’t believe it. Arthur’s not like that.’

Morgana merely shrugged her narrow shoulders.

‘You can believe or not, it doesn’t make it any less true.’

‘But Gwen said they loved each other,’ Merlin protested.

‘Really? I’m surprised Gwen said anything at all. Yes, they were lovers. She, however, was due to wed another man.’

Of all things, that was not what Merlin expected to hear.

‘What! But I thought she…. Why would Arthur…?’

And finally Morgana began talking.

‘He turned his eyes to her, and beckoned her to his bed. She was young and dazzled. How was she, a servant, to tell him no? Enamoured by the title and the looks, flattered by his soft words and kisses. He might just as well have used a magic charm. That’s how little her chance of resisting,’ she said bitterly.

‘But… did Arthur know? That she was engaged?’

‘Not at the time.’

‘Well then!’

‘But that’s not the point. He didn’t ask. He was pompous and arrogant and just assumed that the world would bend to accommodate his desires.’

Merlin was confused.

‘But… why shouldn’t he assume? I would expect a girl to tell me if she had a man already.’

‘Yes, but you’re Merlin the servant,’ she said gesturing towards him, ‘and he’s Prince Arthur of Camelot. There’s a difference. If she’d been closer in rank… but she wasn’t. Her head was spun by the future king. The golden boy. Can’t you see? She stood no chance.’

Merlin did sort of see what she meant, even if he personally couldn’t care a whit about man-made authority. Blue-blood meant very little when his own veins ran silver with mercurial power.

‘Yeah, I see. But surely the husband-to-be had something to say about it?’

‘Against the Pendragons? What could he do? Challenge the Prince?’ She raised a disdainful eyebrow. ‘Ahmed wasn’t a fighter. He was a cloth trader from Persia, for godsake. He had no connections or influence here. I suppose he tolerated the situation. Who knows? Maybe he was even flattered that his future bride was in the bed of the future king.’

‘Her belly began to swell.’ Morgana looked away, her eyes luminous and sad. ‘Ahmed’s trade took him overseas, and when the boy was born, Bernadette was alone. Born with Ahmed’s darker complexion, it was clear that Arthur wasn’t the father, and then the whole story emerged. It was the scandal of the court. Some blamed Arthur….’

‘But why?’ Merlin protested. ‘Why must he be blamed for her deceit?’

‘Then who should be blamed? An impressionable girl, overwhelmed by brash Pendragon charm? Arthur had everything - position, rank, beauty, youth, wealth.’ Morgana retorted. ‘He was culpable because he had all the power. He had a duty to behave with care.’

Merlin felt that Morgana was doing Arthur an injustice, but she was becoming so impassioned, pointing it out would only provoke her further.

‘What happened afterwards?’ he asked softly.

‘Word leaked out. Arthur supported her in a cold, arrogant way.’

Merlin could feel his temper rising at her callous dismissal of Arthur’s hurt. And despite that hurt, he nonetheless tried to do the right thing. This was still the Arthur he knew.

‘Some blamed her and others blamed Arthur,’ Morgana continued. ‘Those honourable knights would spit as she passed. She was called all the names that you would expect. Thanks to Arthur the girl was left without pride or virtue. Uther dismissed her, of course.’

Merlin sympathised with the girl, but he was also aware of all the things Arthur lost with that second betrayal. Things that were still missing today - the softer emotions, the ability to trust, a willingness to allow himself to fall in love. These missing parts were carefully hidden behind his handsome façade, untouchable beneath prickly arrogance, barbed humour and biting sarcasm. His heart ached for Arthur. He was surprised that it needed Uther’s influence to make him swear off women.

‘So one night she just upped and left,’ Morgana continued. ‘Mother and child were gone. Do you have any idea how hard life is out there for a young woman?’

‘I do,’ he replied, suspecting he had a better idea of the hardship she would face than this wealthy, cosseted lady would ever have, but he wisely held his tongue.

‘Where did she go?’ he asked instead.

‘Who knows?’

‘I’m… I’m sorry.’

‘Why? Just one more foolish woman. I’m sure the story’s the same in every castle in the country.’

‘And if it is, then it still doesn’t make it right,’ Merlin said. ‘Arthur knows better now.’

Morgana raised her eyebrows.

‘He does,’ Merlin insisted. ‘He would never take advantage of anyone.’

‘I thought so, too. And then he asked you to risk your life in a stupid contest.’ Her mouth tightened.

‘But that was different!’ he protested.

‘How? He asked, and you blindly obeyed, when self-preservation should have made you walk away. You of all people should understand why Bernadette fell.’

‘No. You don’t understand. I told him no. Twice. I’m not an idiot!’

‘If his actions were deliberate then that makes it worse. He wasn’t just being his normal oblivious self.’

Merlin shook his head in denial.

‘It doesn’t make it worse. I said no, and short of drawing his sword, he pulled out every weapon he had to persuade me. He asked, he commanded, he flattered…..’

‘And when he batted his baby blues, you caved,’ she sneered. ‘How is that not worse?’

‘I did it because it was important! There are times when we have to fight. You of all people should understand,’ he parroted her words back, trying to make her see that his situation was closer to her own than Bernadette’s. Neither he nor Morgana actually acknowledged Arthur’s power unless they had to. Morgana to manipulate and Merlin to nod his head in mock subservience.

‘Merlin….’

‘No. Bedevere needed my lesson as much as Hubert needed yours.’

‘Arthur shouldn’t have asked you! It was thoughtless and….’

‘You’re wrong.’ He looked Morgana in the eyes. ‘I’m not some weak-minded serving girl. And what Arthur asked wasn’t a thoughtless request. He’s learnt his lesson, he knows his own power, he uses it when he must, and he didn’t deserve your words.’

‘What I said last night was to protect you and others like you!’ She proclaimed self-righteously, angrily tossing her hair.

Somewhere in his defence of his prince Merlin had lost his fear of this lady. She was no dragon. Just a person, with a spirit too big for her slender body, railing and crying out against the unfairness of the world. He understood her. Admired her even.

But he couldn’t trust her. Not for himself, and not for Arthur. Too accustomed to getting her way. Too certain of her own morality and judgement. Her power was different to Arthur’s, but no less potent. Wielding her beauty and cleverness like a scalpel, she cut deep, where it hurt most. Where it hurt Arthur most.

‘It wasn’t his fault. You should apologise.’

Her mouth pursed in surprise. Not many people had ever dared bring her to task for her words or actions.

But for Arthur's sake, Merlin would dare a lot. He gave a small bow, and pale eyes cut into him as he walked away. He wondered what they saw.

Closing the door quietly, he considered the answers she had given him.

So that was why Arthur avoided relationships with servants? It was proof to Merlin's mind that he was completely aware of his power to inadvertently destroy what he would love most.

And although Merlin knew he had done the right thing in fighting Bedevere, he realised that Arthur now probably classed him as just another servant, weak and persuadable. Not that he ever expected the prince or anyone really, to look in his direction. No one ever noticed servants, he lamented with a sigh.

Later he might wish this was the case, as around the castle individual knights planned their strategy to lay siege and eventually conquer Arthur’s brave and handsome manservant.

Part 5