Chapter Text
In a land of Wonder and a time of Scrutiny, the future of a great Kingdom burdens the shoulders of a young revenant.
His name?
Arthur.
- - - - - ~*~ - - - - -
Guinevere and Arthur had been planning it for months. Every detail, down to the day and time, how it would be asked, and who was trustworthy enough to join them.
Sir Leon was the obvious option, but the only problem was that if Uther was to allow Morgana to leave on an overnight trip, then there had to be at least two knights accompanying, and Arthur could not take any more time off.
It was a toss-up between Sir Pellinore and Sir Brennis and Arthur lost many a night of sleep over the conundrum. Ultimately it was decided that while Sir Brennis was more boisterous of the two, he was also the more lenient and would be the one to accompany them.
Their plan went off perfectly, a feat which happened much more rarely than Arthur would prefer. Guinevere asked Morgana if she, as the king’s ward, could ask Uther to go out as a birthday present, for Merlin had a letter for his mother that Guinevere desired to help him deliver and she knew how much Morgana had enjoyed meeting Hunith. Morgana cheerfully agreed and proposed it to Uther over dinner one night.
Arthur had been quick to jump in that he would be glad to provide his finest knights to safeguard the journey and that, along with Morgana’s pleading look and choice words, persuaded him to let his darling ward go on a trip for a few nights as an early birthday present.
His finest knights… and Merlin.
Merlin hadn’t been sure what to think about it. It was either incredibly generous or incredibly suspicious. Kicking him, Gwen, and Morgana out of Camelot for a whole week? Arthur has to be doing something behind their back. On the other hand, Arthur was giving him the time to go see his mother and Will, and he got to bring along some of his best friends for the trip.
Merlin went of his own free will, eventually, after Arthur threatened to keep him back with several lists of chores to do each day. He seemed quite happy to leave after that.
Arthur informed his men and when he bid the four goodbye and good luck on their trip, slid the map he had made to Ealdor for them into Morgana’s hand as they hugged.
A week later they returned, and Morgana and Guinevere were the better for it. Sir Leon shot him sly grins every once in a while and when asked how the trip went, Sir Brennis laughed boisterously and left it at that.
Merlin was so outrageously happy, Arthur wasn’t sure if he was to implode or smile to the day he died.
“HE’S ALIVE!” Merlin whooped as he ran into Arthur’s chambers.
Arthur, in the middle of his paperwork and hyper aware of how much time it took to keep this secret, shushed him severely. Merlin nearly vibrated out of his jacket as he slammed the door shut. He was grinning so widely his dimples were showing.
“Shout it again, Merlin, I don’t think they heard you back in Ealdor,” Arthur grumbled. Subtlety. Somehow, with all his secrets, Merlin had none.
“Sorry,” he fake-whispered, still grinning. “He’s alive!”
“Yes, Merlin, why do you think I was so insistent on you going with Morgana and Guinevere? And, what, you truly thought I was capable of ending an innocent man’s life by my own hand?”
Arthur had only half-meant it as a joke, but then Merlin’s face turned sheepish. Arthur threw his hands up in the air, work abandoned for the moment, incredulousness seeping into every aspect of his being.
“Are you kidding me!? I spend a year trying to distance myself from my father and this is the kind of faith I get.” His voice leaned into the sarcasm. “I’m heartbroken, Merlin, truly.”
And, well, if Arthur was a little hurt by the implication, then Merlin never had to know any more than the two seconds of joking. It had been true before, after all, so he supposed he couldn’t blame the boy.
So Arthur sighed, picked up his quill, and had Merlin tell him about the trip as he caught up on his chores in Arthur’s chambers. Merlin leapt at the opportunity and kept up a steady stream of chatter in the background for the next hour at least. Arthur filtered in the basics: overjoyed at seeing his mother, banter with Will, setting up sleeping arrangements, Guinevere and Hunith showing their idea for additional spaces, seeing Tom in his own small house amongst the villagers with a half-made smithery, their joy and astonishment, Guinevere laying out the escape plan Gwen, her father, and Arthur had undergone for Morgana and Merlin.
“I couldn’t believe my eyes,” Merlin was saying wondrously with a shake of his head. “It was like seeing a ghost!”
Arthur grimaced at the comparison. He had seen enough of ghosts, thank you very much.
But there were other chores to be done, and gradually the tales dwindled and finally there was silence as Merlin moved on to other parts of the castle. The visit was well-received and Merlin attended his duties a great deal more cheerfully.
Arthur exhaled and smiled warmly to himself.
Just for a moment, he could believe that change was finally happening.
- - - - - ~*~ - - - - -
Under any other circumstances, Arthur would say he was recovering. He would say that he was in a delightful mood and that his headaches had declined and the wonderful humors of his companions following the trip added years to his health.
That was what he would have said, if Arthur hadn’t been sleeping the last week with the consistent thundering of pickaxes and hammers under his floors. Hadn’t been sleeping being the operative words.
Mining in the caves below wouldn’t usually warrant this amount of frustration. Arthur would usually grit his teeth, request another pillow the night he was informed, and try his best to sleep until the long nights were over. Then again, usually Arthur wasn’t frequented with pounding headaches and nightmarish memories at night. Usually, the fucking census wasn’t getting sent out in a week.
That meant Arthur was responsible for mapping out the sections of Camelot that would be counted, for carefully skirting around Druid-hazy territory, for procuring multiples of said maps, for procuring the brand-new census-takers, for making sure they were given the proper training and equipment, for organizing which person went with which region, for setting aside a sizable amount of Camelot’s knights to go with the census-takers, for overseeing temporary replacements, and a million other tiny minutiae that went with a damned census year.
Of course, it didn’t matter who was in the kingdom so much as how many were in the kingdom. Arthur was also ultimately responsible for the grain stores and he had to make sure they had enough for even the outlying villages. He would be sure to have extra in case any druids came searching for food during a famine, but there was no way he would be caught unawares. If he had learned anything from the unicorn, it was to account for more than he thought when it came to the grain.
So, yes, Arthur was tired and stressed and frustrated and yes, Merlin, I need those miners to take a break for one damn hour so I can sleep; you work for me, let me worry about my father —in the morning, preferably.
This request, naturally, resulted in Arthur not getting any sleep for the rest of the night after the sorcerer’s tomb was opened and he was appointed the honorable responsibility of making sure the tomb was guarded, which meant spending the next three hours working up a feasible guard rotation that would adequately protect the gate.
Arthur was ready to kill a man for a few hours of undisturbed peace.
- - - - - ~*~ - - - - -
Alright, Arthur wouldn’t consider himself cruel.
He was raised under his father’s tutelage, Arthur believes he can make the argument that he knows what cruel is and that he does his best to avoid straying into the area at all costs.
Which is why when Cedric comes running up to help him after the girth came undone and he fell off his horse because somebody thought that going on a hunt would make for a good break… well, Arthur doesn’t smite him where he stands for killing so many of his knights and citizens.
He’s about to dismiss him with the promise of payment for the saddle when he’s struck with the memory of a giant fucking boar. And, well.
Shite.
He does his best to kill the boar as it comes raging towards him, but its giant tusks do well to smack it aside. Arthur goes for his sword, except he doesn’t even have it unsheathed by the time the boar slides to his feet, dead, with a spear lodged in its side.
He looks around desperately, hoping against hope that it wasn’t Cedric. But it was. It was. This time, at least, he has the common sense to assign the reward himself, just as Uther did with Merlin. Entirely natural for a member of the court, especially the royal family. Haven’t they heard? The family has a reputation for being self-obsessed maniacs.
“I shall be forever indebted to you,” Arthur said solemnly. “You must be rewarded.”
“No, I couldn’t possibly,” Cedric replied bashfully. He reminded Arthur of Agravaine. Slick and oily, always ready to squeeze Arthur for whatever they wanted.
“No, I insist. You’ll be paid handsomely when we return.”
“Oh, that’s not necessary, my lord, I only require a job.”
“I’m sure a man of your many talents will be hard pressed to pick between your many offers,” Arthur smoothed over. “And until then I will personally make sure that your reward will provide you with enough food and lodging for several months at least.”
Arthur considered that the end of the matter and wouldn’t discuss it any further, turning a blind eye to Merlin and Cedric’s antics with each other.
- - - - - ~*~ - - - - -
He made sure to pay the man directly upon their arrival, and then went out of his way to avoid him. He made sure to always know where his keys where at all times and when he opened the door to Cedric with a lovely plate of food, he directed him to the guest’s room, since he obviously must have gotten turned around, how horrible, the castle can be a bit big for some people, congratulations on the job, goodbye. And promptly shut the door before the conman could get a word in.
Arthur didn’t even care that Merlin was a little late. At this point he'd give him the whole day if he wanted it.
“Oh, and Merlin,” Arthur said as he got ready to head down to training. “Ask the Steward if they’ve taken on any new servants recently. Cedric’s been lurking around, taking on duties, and I need to know if we have to pay him or threaten him off.”
Merlin smiled brightly at the task, even as it added more work to his already-long chore list.
“I’d be happy to, sire!” he beamed.
Arthur nodded for his dismissal and he left downright cheerful. Arthur followed shortly after and was adjusting the scabbard on his belt when he ran into Guinevere.
“Guinevere!” Arthur yelped, steadying her with one hand as they both jumped at the sight of the other. He couldn’t help the grin that burst onto his face at the sight of her, but it dimmed when she smiled back tiredly. Looking closer, she seemed exhausted, more haggard. Arthur frowned slightly. “Is something wrong?”
She waved him off, easy grace and charm as usual. “No, nothing, my lord. Long night, that’s all.”
“Arthur, please. Is… everything alright? You’re not coming down with anything, are you?” He would have asked more explicitly about her personal life, but that seemed inappropriate as almost-friends. A critical lookover said that she didn’t seem sick, but women were incredibly good at deception. Anything was possible.
Her eyes crinkled slightly, her smile made softer, more genuine. “Yes, my– Arthur, I’m quite alright.” She hesitated and bit her lip, looking around for… someone, before leaning in slightly. Arthur mirrors her posture, intent on hearing whatever she had to impart, trying to ignore the butterflies at the quite unintentional, he was sure, my Arthur that had slipped from her lips. “Truthfully, it’s the Lady Morgana. I fear her nightmares have returned. She has gone to see Gaius just now, in fact.”
The two of them straightened, casting an eye around for any shadows, and Arthur became more thoughtful. “Thank you for informing me, Guinevere. I had no idea. Well… I shall not delay you anymore; you’re a very busy woman after all. Have a pleasant day.” With the conversation over, he couldn’t help himself. He kissed the hand that wasn’t balancing a laundry basket on one hip.
She blushed lightly and ducked her head with a shy smile. “Oh, well, um, thank– thank you, Arthur. Sire! Arthur. And-and, um, to you as, ah, to you as well,” she stammered out, quickly curtsying before rushing by.
Arthur bit his lip to keep from smiling like a loon and hurried to the training grounds lest he be late. He’d have to talk with Morgana afterwards.
The butterflies in his stomach had yet to settle.
- - - - - ~*~ - - - - -
Cedric had been paid, looked out for, and Arthur had thought that was that. His keys were on his person, training had gone splendidly. Sure, Morgana had to be checked on, but otherwise Arthur was pretty happy about how the day had gone.
Except now the horses were stampeding through the market. He sent out several knights to slow them down, or catch them if they could, and then sent Tyr after them when he made it to the stables. The empty stables.
Well, not quite empty.
“Merlin!” Arthur barked, standing over his sleeping manservant with his hands on his hips. He jumped to attention, bleary and confused. Arthur was unimpressed.
“Sire?” He sounded exhausted. Perhaps Arthur had been working him too much.
“What are you doing?” Arthur would give him the day off, he would, but right now the horses were wreaking havoc and Arthur wasn’t having it.
“Nothing.”
He looked around very pointedly. “I can see that.”
“I wasn’t sleeping! I was… I was just bending down…”
“Looking for something?”
“Yes!”
“Oh, well, perhaps we’re looking for the same thing,” Arthur mocked.
“What?” The boy was an idiot. A certified simpleton, an absolute utter moron.
“Oh, I don’t know— THE HORSES, Merlin!”
“The hors… —ES!” Merlin finished with a gasp, scrambling upright and spinning around in a panic.
Magic or not, Arthur was going to wring his skinny little neck until the blind moron turned the same color as his shirt.
“One mistake, I understand. Everyone has their bad days. But Merlin, this is ridiculous. The horses stampeded through the marketplace and who knows where they are now!”
“I-I don’t know what happened!” Merlin’s desperate, looking around like the stable may hold the answers if he searches well enough. The sheer panic on his face was enough to get Arthur to start settling down.
Until.
“Sire… please, sire, don’t be too hard on him, I’m sure he’s a good servant. He’s just… he’s tired.”
Oh, you’ve got to be—
- - - - - ~*~ - - - - -
Arthur straightened up very slowly and proceeded to take the time to fully face Cedric. Merlin hadn’t seen him do that since… well, he hasn’t seen fire off such rage for anyone, come to think of it. His face was fixed suddenly in a pleasant grin, while all of the soul seemed strangled out behind the eyes.
“Cedric,” he said sweetly, “Can you find something for me?”
Merlin shivered.
“Anything, my liege,” the coward groveled.
“I wish for you to find where I asked for your opinion.”
Merlin was gobsmacked. And so, it seemed, was Cedric.
“S-Sire?”
“Let me make this perfectly clear, Cedric. Merlin, as foolish and block-headed and blind as he may be, is my manservant.” Arthur shook his head tensely and shrugged one shoulder to make it look casual. It didn’t work. “No one else.”
Merlin wasn’t sure if he should feel proud or extremely scared. There was a fire in Arthur Pendragon’s eyes, cold and all-consuming, and Merlin was suddenly very aware that he had never seen the prince in battle before. He doubted it would come close to the terror seeping into him now.
“So unless you’re the bloody king himself—” and Arthur had to physically restrain himself for a moment. A fist had gone up when he spoke of his father, but Arthur took the time to breathe and lock his hands together in front until his knuckles went white. “—You will not speak on his behalf unless I ask you to. His punishments, given or not, are my responsibility. My servant, my responsibility. And I do not take my responsibilities lightly. Do I make myself clear, Cedric?”
“Yes,” he squeaked.
“Yes?” Arthur raised an eyebrow and Merlin could see the years at court manifesting. Morgana had not been the only one to learn a silver tongue and Uther had imparted much more than an appreciation for responsibility.
“Yes, sire,” Cedric amended, bowing low to the ground.
“Get up,” he snapped. “And get out of my sight. You have been paid; you shall require nothing else from me. Find your work and keep my words in mind. You would do well to remember what exactly this kingdom was built on.”
Cedric didn’t mark Merlin as a man to scare easily. Grovel and pretense? Certainly. But Merlin felt confident that Cedric hadn’t acted up the fear in his eyes as he darted out of the stables as fast as he could, metaphorical rodent tail tucked firmly between his legs. Merlin was close to congratulating Arthur on setting him in his place, but… Merlin also didn’t wish to incur his wrath. Especially after the horses. He wasn’t sure if it was a defense for him or a defense for Arthur’s possessions anyway.
Then another guard came running up after Cedric’s disappearance. “The horses have been rounded up, sire! Tyr is returning with them shortly.”
Arthur sighed and the fire in his eye faded. “Thank you, Sir Galahad. See to it that no one was injured and then you may return to your post.”
“Yes, sire!” The young knight answered and left immediately.
Then Arthur fixed his attention wholly on Merlin and he could see it. This was no longer Prince Arthur, son of Uther, war hero. This was Arthur, the tired diplomat and, just on occasion, a good friend. Just knowing that had Merlin’s stomach unraveling from all of the knots it had tied itself in since he first awoke to find Arthur standing over him.
“Finish cleaning the stables until Tyr gets back,” he said wearily. “Then go… take a nap, or a bath, or something.”
That sounded like a dismissal.
Merlin’s heart dropped.
“No, Arthur, I’m fit for my duties! I—” but Arthur held up a hand and Merlin fell silent. He understood. This was not the day to test his ire.
“I know you are, Merlin,” he continued softly. “Which is why you will still have your nightly duties to attend to. But for my own sake, take a break for a few hours. Come back well rested. I won’t have you sleeping on the job again, is that clear?”
And if Merlin didn’t know any better, he’d say it came from a place of concern. While he was still rattled, his heart settled once again. A break.
“…just a small break, then? Tomorrow, work as usual?” he asked tentatively.
Arthur nodded, already picking his way towards the door. “Tomorrow, work as usual. I didn’t just lecture a man so you could have a whole day off. I’ll figure out a proper punishment for the horses eventually, but for now, go home. And I expect to see you refreshed this evening.”
Merlin babbled off something that sounded like a cross between a thank-you and a well-obviously-you…-you-…clotpole. He scrambled to finish the stable with a renewed vigor.
A break.
That would be nice.
- - - - - ~*~ - - - - -
There was a cave-in last night. The tomb of Cornelius Sigan, all his wealth, all his power, gone in an instant. No one was hurt during the incident, not even the guards.
Just a natural accident, they said.
Nothing to worry about.
The king could have resumed mining.
But after emerging from a deep, private council meeting with Arthur that spanned across three whole days, along with its fair share of raised voices and hushed conversations, he didn’t.
The tomb was to remain undisturbed.
Any more mining could cause a sinkhole, they said.
The castle’s right on top, they said.
Wouldn’t want to risk it, they said.
Cedric disappeared after that night.
There were no warning bells. No harsh commands.
Just a prince looking after the knights he put on guard.
You look exhausted, he said. Take a break. I can watch until the next shift arrives.
But they won’t tell anyone that.