Chapter Text
Merlin didn’t bother to look up as he stalked into Gaius’ chambers. Instead he walked over to the table, sat down, and promptly slammed his head into the wooden surface.
It was surprisingly comfortable. Eyes closed, head down, no need to face the world or any dragons living in it. He wouldn’t mind staying like that forever.
The sharp clearing of a throat woke him from this daydream. He raised his eyes only to meet Gaius’, standing on the other side of the room.
He had paused in the stirring of his potion, holding his spoon as he silently watched his ward.
“Are you alright there, Merlin?” He asked, wavering between concern and exasperation.
“There’s a dragon inside my head telling me I have a very gay destiny with some random asshole prince and I am starting to fear he may be right.”
“So that’s a yes?”
“That’s a ‘fuck me I guess’.”
Gaius huffed an amused breath, and Merlin heard him scuttling about the chambers. The next time he looked up, the physician was sitting down opposite to him, pushing some herbs and a knife towards him.
Merlin rolled his eyes at his mentor’s priorities, but started cutting anyway.
“I am assuming something has happened?” Gaius said, grabbing his own knife and chopping a different pile of herbs.
Merlin sighed, strangely glad to have something to do with his hands. What hadn’t happened today.
Gaius, always the mind reader, nodded and continued, “Does it have something to do with you aiding and abetting Morgana’s disobedience?”
Merlin stopped chopping his herbs, worriedly turning his gaze towards Gaius.
“You know about that?” Not good. Not good at all.
In the past few days, Merlin, Morgana and Gwen had been finding different ways to thwart Uther’s attempts at constraining Morgana. As the king grew more desperate to keep her from the field, the group grew more confident in their plans to send the castle into disarray.
It had not been without the necessary illegal activities, such as: Stealing multiple swords from the armoury, forging announcer’s lists, obstructing multiple guards in their line of duty, and quite a lot more.
Gaius raised an eyebrow, not pausing his movement in the slightest. He gives Merlin a pointed nod, who hurriedly resumes his own cutting.
“Not to be cruel, my boy, but you couldn’t keep a secret if your life depended on it,” He shook his head, and Merlin shrunk away a bit.
It was true, but still, ouch. Funnily enough, the whole ordeal had nothing to do with Merlin’s foul mood.
“Actually, the king approved Morgana’s participation today,” he said, and it was Gaius’ turn to pause at that.
Merlin gave him an amused glance, and the physician immediately started chopping again.
“I didn’t think he’d give in,” he said, frowning.
To Gaius’ credit, neither did Merlin. It’s why he’d been so surprised when Gwen brought him the news a couple hours ago. She’d been convinced it was Arthur’s doing, but all anyone had heard him utter on the matter was ‘it’s more trouble than it is worth’. Which, to Merlin, isn’t exactly a fool proof argument.
“Guess he got tired after Morgana decided to climb out of her window for everyone to see,” he shrugged, though he couldn’t suppress the twitch of his lips at the memory.
Merlin was still a bit unclear on what exactly the thought process had been behind that specific escape, but he’d been happy to provide the rope. Besides, his route had allowed him to pass by Sir Valiant again, and that had proven to be a valuable exploit.
Sensing his sudden increase in chopping speed, Gaius handed over another pouch of herbs.
“No problems with the tournament then?” He put down his knife, standing up to reach for his shelves. He grabbed the pots that contained the chopped herbs, setting them down in front of Merlin.
“Uther had a condition,” Merlin obligingly started to sort the herbs into their proper place, “Morgana was allowed to compete, but she would have to forfeit her battle against the prince.”
It had been a logical compromise, to avoid presenting the heir to the throne as weak. Morgana didn’t seem to have a problem with it, stating that she didn’t need to test herself against him. She knew she would win.
Admittedly, she was a better person than Merlin. He would’ve thrown the prince out the window and competed in the finale anyway.
“And that is the reason you’re upset?” Gaius remarked skeptically, knowing very well Merlin would have started insulting Arthur hours ago if that was the case.
He clenched his jaw, directing his gaze to the steady movement of his hands.
“It means Valiant is guaranteed to face off against the prince in the finale.”
Gaius sighed. They had this conversation before, and they both knew how it ended
“Merlin, Valiant is not going to commit regicide.”
“How do you know that?” Merlin let his knife drop, forgetting about the herbs entirely, “I saw the snakes, Gaius! We know they poisoned Sir Edward!” He waved towards the unconscious body, still settled inside the room.
Merlin felt the frustration boiling through his body. Yeah, okay, he hadn’t believed it either the first time he had come to Gaius with his concerns surrounding Valiant.
It had only been some weird hissing sounds, that could’ve really been anything. The snakes blinking at him through their painted imagery on the shield, that could’ve easily been a trick of the light.
But that was before Valiant had decided to start leering at Morgana, swearing he would win the tournament in her name. Before Sir Edward had collapsed during his match against Valiant, a snake bite prominent on his neck. Before he had walked past Valiant's open room to see the knight himself feeding rats to the very much alive snakes.
It was before Merlin had watched Valiant study Arthur intently, glaring at him as he polished his shield.
“It doesn’t matter. We cannot accuse him without evidence. A servant’s words mean nothing against that of a noble.” They were the same words as last time, irrefutable in their truth.
This time Merlin was prepared. He dug into his pocket, throwing a snake head onto the table.
He crossed his arms, waiting for Gaius to look up at him in surprise. Even then, he didn’t break eye contact.
“Evidence,” He said simply, omitting the fact he had snuck into a noble’s room to get it. Or the fact that he’d dodged multiple snake heads to avoid ending up like Sir Edward.
What he wasn’t expecting was for Gaius to smile at him, pride shining in his eyes.
“Merlin,” he said, taking the head into one hand, “You do realize that with this we could create the anti-venom for Sir Edward?”
Merlin had, in fact, not realized that.
“Which means we’ll have a noble to support our claims too.” He breathed, amazed at the fact something actually worked out for him once.
“...But there’s no way Arthur would believe me,” he said, grimacing as he remembered the day in the tent.
Back then, when Merlin hadn’t even been making any direct accusations, the prince had taken no time to jump to his knights’ defense. The prat wouldn’t even talk to him normally, let alone take any of his warnings seriously. The truth was, Merlin had been concerned about Arthur’s safety at that moment. It had been proven many times, now again, that people didn’t mind getting their hands dirty when it came to the prince. Arthur had yet to realize this, and it didn’t make the servant feel any more secure about his safety.
Gaius raised an eyebrow at him, putting the snake head back down on the table, “I think you’re underestimating Arthur here. He wouldn’t dismiss a servant that flippantly, not over something like this.”
Merlin gave him a doubtful look, “Even when said servant is the main witness and has a track record of embarrassing the prince?”
Wait. Wait a minute. That was the problem, wasn’t it? That he was himself. Arthur would give any other servant a chance, but not Merlin.
Gaius opened his mouth to talk, but got cut off, “But what if I wasn’t the one who brought him the evidence.”
Merlin stood up, racing into his room before running out with the grimoire in his hands. He can vaguely hear Gaius’ protesting in the background, but he’s too busy scanning through the many pages.
He can hear Gaius sigh, before the book is taken out of his hands. The physician, instead of taking the book away, sets it down onto the table so both of them could see it clearly.
“Just to be clear, whatever you are thinking is probably a horrible idea and I do not approve of any of it,” Gaius sat down at the table, this time leaving a spot for Merlin to sit beside him.
It was clear what Gaius was saying. Merlin was a dumbass, but also stubborn. All the physician could do was try and tone down the dumbassery as much as possible.
“I know,” Merlin smiled innocently, “Now, how many disguise charms do you think I can cast at the same time?”
__________
Arthur was peacefully wandering about his chambers.
He had been in search of a knife he’d borrowed from Leon earlier that week, having left it in his room somewhere. George always cleaned everything all the time, making Arthur at a loss for where everything went whenever he’d put it down.
He’d tell George to stop, but he could hardly complain about his manservant being too competent. Which was horrible, because Arthur really wanted to complain about something.
The door opened behind him, and he listened as someone quietly made their way through his room. Probably George, waiting to escort the prince to some meeting or another. Arthur sighed, surrendering himself to the fact he’d have to continue his search later.
He turned around, going to address his manservant before freezing in his tracks.
Wait a minute, that wasn’t George.
Sitting on his desk, in one of the most inappropriate displays he’d ever seen, was a white-haired stranger. Their curled hair bright like snow, and eyes so vibrant blue they felt surreal. Their face was round and plumb, rosy cheeks covered in freckles. Judging by their clothing, they had to be a peasant, though the air they carried themselves with resembled that of a king.
Not-george tilted their head at him, and Arthur had a strange sense of deja-vu at the movement. It felt familiar in a way he couldn’t quite place.
His hand dropped to his hip, floating above the pommel of his sword.
“Who are you?” He asked, tracking every movement with his eyes.
The stranger smiled in amusement, hopping off the table with a surprising lightness to it. Arthur tensed, but they apparently didn’t feel the urge to move closer.
“At your service, your royal highness,” they spoke, tipping over into a respectful bow. Their voice, like the rest of their appearance, was slightly unnatural. As if multiple voices were speaking at once, melting together into one united speech.
“You didn’t answer my question,” Arthur said, narrowing his eyes at the suspicious figure.
They looked up, and Arthur could swear a grin flashed across their face, before a mask of confusion washed over.
They frowned, returning to their bow, “I apologize, my lord, I am one of the servants tasked with armoury’s maintenance. I truly do hope I am not interrupting anything.”
The words sounded rehearsed and stale, causing any pretense of sincerity to fall short. Now that he thought about it, it sounded frighteningly similar to George, except for the faux-sincerity. Maybe that was just how most servants talked? Nightmare fuel, that is.
“I’ve never seen you around before,” he said instead, lifting his head threateningly.
The servant did not feel threatened, “You have not?”
The reply made Arthur hesitate, racking his brain for any glimpse of bright white hair, “I think I would remember someone like you.”
He immediately felt guilty when the servant threw him a look of genuine hurt.
“Sire,” the servant grimaced mildly, “I have worked in your service for over ten years. I’ve personally attended you on multiple occasions”
Oh, oh no. He’d always sucked at remembering faces, and it never worked in his favour.
The memory of Merlin, smugly accusing Arthur of his ignorance during the affair with the bandit, flashed through his mind. He hadn’t even known that Merlin had been appointed as the physician’s apprentice, even though it was one of the most important positions within the castle.
This person had definitely worked for him for ten years, and he hadn’t even remembered their name! And Arthur had the gall to reach for his sword around them.
He felt his ears go red as he realized his own stupidity.
“Ah, right, well-” he coughed awkwardly, “What brings you to my chambers this time of day?”
He really should write a book about the art of misdirection.
At the reminder of their objective, the servant dug into their pocket. They took out a small packet folded up in leather, holding it out. They waited patiently for the prince to approach them, apparently sensing his previous apprehensiveness.
As soon as Arthur held the object in his hands, the servant launched into an explanation.
“I discovered it earlier this afternoon whilst passing through the hallways. I would’ve come to you directly, but considering Sir Edward is slowly dying of its venom, I went to the physician first..”
Arthur eyed the man in confusion, unbounding the leather slowly. Once fully uncovered, he almost dropped the object as he realized what it was.
“You found a snake head?” He asked, incredulously.
The servant worried their bottom lip between their teeth, “Not exactly. When I encountered it, the rest of its body was still attached. I cut it off in a panic.”
There was a lapse in his explanation, hesitation hanging in the air even if there was clearly more to be said.
Arthur needed to hear the rest, and there was one fool proof way to make anyone say more around him, “Speak freely.”
If only Merlin would have a need for those words. The world would be a much calmer place.
“I have reason to believe Sir Valiant is attempting, or at least willing, to kill you, sire.”
Arthur’s first reaction was to assume they were lying. They were accusing a well respected knight, one that may soon be one of Camelot’s very own. A knight as noble as he would never dare to lay a finger on a prince, let alone try to murder him.
He was about to say as much, when a certain raven haired boy flashed across his mind again.
Merlin’s response in the tent had been short-off, but clear. Servants didn’t trust Arthur, because Arthur didn’t trust them. This servant clearly thought this of enough importance to bring it directly to him, including all the risks it came with.
Arthur had enough power to sentence them to the dungeons for their words. Even if he would never dare to do so, it wasn’t really like he’d given anyone a reason to believe otherwise. For once in his life, Arthur was able to see the interaction exactly for what it was; An incredible show of trust.
The servant met his eyes straight on, and Arthur swallowed down his immediate dismissal.
“What evidence do you have to support these claims?” He asked slowly, taking in the surprised look that overtook their face with an odd sense of delight.
They scrambled to grab another object from their pockets, a parchment this time, shoving it into the prince’s hands.
“These are the official records of the tournament’s first day. As you can see, Edward’s final match, in which he-” and the servant was off, recounting the events as they had experienced it from the past few days.
They referred to the evidence, elaborating on how they witnessed the shield come to life, the suspicious behaviour towards Morgana, and Gaius’ confirmation that the snake head provided was accountable for Sir Edward’s injuries. They added on that once the new antidote had taken its effect, Sir Edward would be able to vouch for their current theories.
Arthur listened carefully, hanging off of every word and trying his best to spot any lies within the statement. He found none, and the longer he stood there, the more confident he grew in Valiant’s alleged treason.
“Thank you,” Arthur said, once the servant had finally ran out of things to say. It didn’t nearly convey his gratitude, but it would do.
He didn’t understand it exactly himself, but the risks this random figure had taken for Camelot’s safety- His safety- felt meaningful.
Arthur turned around, putting the snakehead and parchment on his side table. For safe keeping, as Uther wouldn’t be available for an audience on an immediate notice.
He smiled, turning to the servant once more, “By the way, I didn’t quite manage to catch your na-”
His room was empty, no sign of the previous events except for the things Arthur had been given.
That was an odd experience.
Well, he would have to figure out the identity of his nameless aide on a later date. Someone was sure to know a white haired servant with sapphire eyes.
__________
Leon was having a good day. A great day, in fact. Morgana had been given permission to participate in the last day of the tournament without consequences.
(Though he hadn’t heard what exactly had happened with her father’s sword, as she hadn’t been seen fighting with it since the first battle. He hoped it was fine.)
That meant he no longer had to pretend to be fully oblivious to all of Merlin’s illegal activities. As a knight, he obviously couldn’t condone any of that behaviour.
That’s why he didn’t know about anything, at all.
It wasn’t like every time Morgana needed anything, guards and servants started to show up asking Leon why he needed them. Merlin would never use him as an excuse to get anyone away from their post. And he would never force Leon to come up with different orders for these people without discussing anything beforehand.
Surely, Merlin wouldn’t dare to be so inconsiderate.
The funny bit was, Merlin didn’t seem to realize Leon’s involvement in the fact his ‘foolproof distraction plan’ had pulled through every single time. Honestly, Leon preferred it like that. It meant he would have plausible deniability and wouldn’t risk any scorn from the other knights.
He knew it was nonsense, but since the day he’d decided to become a knight, he felt like he was being watched. Like everything he did was a test that awaited judgement, and if he failed to live up to the standards of society, they would know.
It’s what made him so insistent on following propriety, and keeping to the knight’s code as ordered. As long as he did that, the feeling would decrease.
It’s funny, actually. He used to be one of Morgana’s sparring partners, when they were younger. Whenever Arthur was trapped in royal classes, Morgana would sneak out without him, picking up a sword and searching out Leon. He’d been someone she’d vent her frustration to, physically as well as verbally.
It was one of the many things knighthood had changed for him, even before he’d taken on the official title.
He didn’t always like it, but it was the way it was supposed to be. The only one able to break through the veil of shame and fear had been, well, Merlin.
Instead of letting Leon fail, and making the suffocating feeling of never belonging grow, Merlin boldly chased it away. He dragged Leon into a whole pile of nonsense, whilst somehow still giving him control over this small little thing he could call his own. Allowing Leon to prove to himself that he is, indeed, capable of more than he thinks.
Planning the tournament was arguably one of the best decisions he’d ever made, and it made him long for more of these unrelated things. A place for him outside his knighthood.
So when he was given the chance, he didn’t really hesitate to help Morgana again.
And that’s why Leon was having a good day. Multiple ones, in fact. He was making his way to Arrey, wanting to update him on some progress he’d been making. The parchment in his hands reading pleasantly as he hummed a tune to himself.
Out of nowhere, a force came barging into him from the side, making him stumble into the wall. He blinked rapidly, reaching for his sword before noticing exactly who was to blame for the incident..
“Merlin?” he asked, mildly concerned at his friend’s appearance. The servant looked slightly disheveled, as if he’d been running for a while. He was constantly shooting glances behind him. He tried to say something, but closed his mouth uselessly every time, unable to find the words.
Leon followed his line of sight, watching as a shadow seemed to approach from the hallway Merlin had come from. They had yet to round the corner, but the voice was murmuring threats under their breath. Whoever it was, they were furious.
Leon shook his head, recognising the footsteps as armoured ones.
Was a knight chasing Merlin? For what? What could Merlin possibly have done to warrant this reaction?
Merlin, for all his worth, seemed horrified at the prospect of being caught by this person. Definitely not the look he’d worn at the previous threats of arrest. Which had happened before. A lot.
“Let’s go,” Leon said, tugging Merlin along before they could be spotted.
Merlin quietly complied, throwing him a grateful look. He followed him into one of the side passages without question, keeping their pace slow to prevent suspicion.
Leon knew quite a couple places knights wouldn’t think to come.
_____
“So, do I want to know what that was about?” Leon asked, leaning against the stone ridge.
Leon had led them to one of the battlements of the castle, a small part hidden between one tower and a smaller wall. The view was quite beautiful, but Merlin didn’t feel like commenting on it.
Instead, he stood next to Leon, staring at his feet.
“Depends on if you’re planning on arresting me,” Merlin said, a poor attempt at a joke.
The knight laughed anyway.
“I’m taking that as a no.” he nudged Merlin playfully, and Merlin actually managed to smile a bit.
Yeah, Leon probably wouldn’t want to know. Merlin had made a stupid decision in his panic. An I-broke-into-the-knights-room-in-hopes-of-stopping-their-evil-plot kinda stupid.
He couldn’t possibly express how grateful he was for Leon, being there when he was. He didn’t know what he would’ve done if Valiant had managed to catch him.
Probably die. He’d already thanked Leon so profusely by now, he’d probably only get upset by another ‘thank you’.
Merlin kept quiet, and Leon didn’t press. Though he did feel his curious look burning into his side.
He considered which parts he could actually tell Leon. He definitely couldn’t say anything about his break-ins or methods of gathering evidence. Friend or not, he was still a knight loyal to Camelot, and that was all kind of illegal.
Speaking of, he probably couldn’t tell Leon about the attempt on his prince at all. It wasn’t like Leon had any reason to believe him, now that all his evidence was gone. And to force the knight to side with a servant against another noble? That was just cruel.
Besides, Arthur clearly hadn’t believed him. He’d done everything he could. He’d changed his identity, given the prince as much evidence as possible, and given him a full recount of every event.
Sir Edward had woken up, fully willing to give his own statement. He’d never gotten the chance. He’d died that same early afternoon, and Arthur hadn’t even called upon him.
He felt slightly foolish, how he believed that Arthur would just go along with everything. He’d just seemed so attentive, and Merlin had felt listened to. Really listened to.
Clearly that hadn’t been the case, no accusation had taken place, and the match would resume as planned.
It’s not like a prince would listen to his servants.
“Why do you protect Arthur?” he asked suddenly, not looking away from the view, “And don’t give me that generic bullshit any other knight could give me.”
Leon startles, averting his gaze towards the streets as well.
“I mean, it’s an honour to-”
“I said no bullshit.” He smiled good naturedly. He wanted an honest opinion, and Leon may be duty-bound, but he was also closer to the prince than most knights.
Even when Merlin would insult him during their gossip nights, the knight still held him in high regard. Morgana had even told him Leon had discussed their servant-knight friendship with Arthur, despite it being frowned upon by most.
Merlin wanted to know why.
“Well, as a knight, I’m kinda supposed to tell you the whole spiel.” Leon fidgeted with his hands, nervous energy rolling off him in waves.
“But as a friend?”
Leon tilted his head in hesitant amusement, “As a friend, I’d say there are many reasons to serve someone like Arthur.”
“Really? He seems more like a prat to me.” Merlin said petulantly, because it was the truth.
Leon laughed, kicking him slightly in the leg, “Of course that’s what you would say.”
Merlin gasped in faux-offense, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He was very much aware he wasn’t always fair to Arthur, but it was his own fault for being an arse.
“I’m just saying,” Leon said, putting his hands up in a placating manner, “Maybe, if you didn’t insult him every other second, you’d notice the way he looks at his people.”
“...And what way is that?” Merlin asked skeptically.
Leon nodded down with a sudden smile playing on his lips, and Merlin followed his line of sight. There was Arthur, running (But not running because ‘princes do not run’) across the castle grounds heading to who knows where.
George was hopelessly trying to keep up with his master, quickly falling behind and leaning against a pillar to catch his breath. Arthur went through a door, completely oblivious to anything behind him.
Merlin was about to tell Leon he’d just been proven right, when another bit of movement caught his eye.
The door creaked open, a concerned Arthur peaking outside, searching for something. As soon as his eyes found George, the concerned expression melted away, instead turning slightly sheepish. He jogged down the square, saying something unintelligible to his manservant. Merlin could tell it was probably something insufferably pompous, but George merely smiled at it. He accepted the prince’s outstretched hand, getting to his feet.
When they continued on their route at a remarkably slower pace.
“In a way that shows he may not always understand,” Leon smiled, and Merlin felt he already knew the answer to his own question, “but damn the world if he doesn’t try.”
Merlin looked back at the closed door Arthur had left through. Huh, maybe Merlin had yet to discover the fact Arthur wasn’t a complete asshole.
Some might even say he could be considerate. What a weird thought.
He reflected on Leon’s words again, but grinned slightly as he found his next topic of conversation.
“Wait a minute, since when does our dear knight have such a foul mouth?” He said, leaning against Leon in an attempt to get into his personal space.
“I do not,” Leon tried to push him away, only for Merlin to put his weight onto his arms.
“But I’m pretty certain I heard you say ‘damn the world’,” He teased, laughing as Leon attempted to drop him onto the ground, “I thought you were child friendly, my good sir.”
Catching his footing, he tried to duck away as Leon attempted to get him into a headlock.
“You heard nothing, you filthy peasant.” The effect of Leon's words was thoroughly ruined by his laughter.
They spent a couple minutes roughhousing, trying to trip each other up whilst jokingly insulting each other. When they finally drew back, both were winded from their horrid battle tactics.
They looked at each other, hair and clothes fully mussed up, and promptly burst into laughter again.
Once their mirth died down, the two men turned to the view again, breathing in the cool evening air.
“I needed that,” Merlin said. The sky was already slowly changing its shade, a painful reminder that tomorrow was still approaching
In some strange irony, the city of Camelot was calmer than he’d ever seen it.
Most had already turned in for the knight, and those who hadn’t were bent over their tables with last minute preparations. All in the name of tomorrow's big showdown, and celebratory feast.
Merlin sighed heavily, feeling the weight of everything settle down on him once again.
He was definitely going to call Arthur out on all his crap the next time he saw him.
“Hey,” Leon nudged, understanding written on his face, “I know Arthur may not have fully proven himself to you yet…”
Leon trailed off, uncertain in his words.
“But?”
“But,” He leaned back, stretching his arms high, “you might want to give him the chance to do so.”
Merlin’s eyes traced the square, looking for a sign. Some kind of way forward. Leon was probably right, but he felt stuck.
His gaze lingered on a dog statue, settled on the side of one of the bigger stairs into the castle. It vaguely reminded him of Leon, same demeanour and all. If Merlin could bring things to live like with the snakes, he imagined it would act like Leon too.
Wait a minute, that was it. That was the solution. Merlin knew magic, so all he had to do was learn a spell that could bring the snakes to live at the correct moment.
A plan beginning to form in his mind, he quickly said goodbye to Leon before darting off again.
Now how do you think it would be, convincing Gwen to help him steal a dog statue in broad daylight?
________________
Arthur let out a slow breath as he awaited the final match. He’d already dismissed George about half an hour earlier, not really in the mood to talk to anyone right now.
Yesterday, in the early afternoon, he’d finally managed to get an audience with the king concerning Valiant.
He’d laid down everything with crystal clarity, even had the king inspect the shield. The king hadn’t found anything, but it wasn’t a big deal. With Sir Edward’s support, the case would be cut and dry.
Except for the fact that Gaius came into the throne room before he’d had the chance to call upon him. There, in the middle of his case, the revelation of Sir Edward’s recent passing came to light.
He’d died from snake venom. There was nothing they could’ve done.
That had been enough for the accused to turn the entire case onto Arthur, saying the death was just a little too convenient for Arthur’s entire story.
He had no idea how, but somehow, no one had believed the prince after that.
Valiant had everyone convinced he was simply afraid to face him, and that he was spinning these lies because of it. His father had believed him, not even considering further investigation, and ordering everyone’s silence on the matter.
Gaius had been whisked away to give his reports on Sir Edward’s death, and had been the one chosen to break the news to his family.
The servant who had provided the evidence was to be found, and silenced.
Arthur didn’t know whether to be glad that the servant hadn’t shown heads nor tails since their conversation with him, or upset. No matter how much he searched, he’d found no trace of their existence.
It unsettled Arthur, and once again he wasn’t sure who he was angry at. At Valiant, for causing all of this in the first place? At the king, his own father, for not believing him on the matter of his own safety? At the servant, who could very well have tricked him in all of this? At himself, for being so gullible on many different levels?
Maybe he could settle for being angry at Merlin, who had bumped into him late in the evening before. Their encounter, normally something that made Arthur forget about his problems, only served to rub salt in the wound.
As the physician’s apprentice, Merlin had been present when the servant had told Gaius their story. It had surprised the prince to learn he’d been the one to tell the servant to go straight through the prince.
Similar as in the courtroom, he’d called him a coward. Though unlike the proper words exchanged there, Merlin didn’t feel the need to hold any punches as he started listing multiple reasons why Arthur was an idiot.
Apparently determined to never agree with any type of royal judgement, the apprentice was mad at him over not just getting out of the entire thing. For putting his life on the line for things he considered dumb, like ‘honor’ and ‘pride’. (They were not stupid, they were very important. How dare he.)
He tried to mention how he did attempt to convince the court, but it only held Merlin back for mere seconds. He then went on an entire tirade about how Athur’s life was far more important than the opinion of a few idiots. (His words, not Arthur’s).
It made him strangely happy, thinking of how upset this one random servant could get over something even his childhood friend, Morgana, had considered a normality.
Then again, it wasn’t just some random servant, it was Merlin. Nothing was too strange for him.
The happiness was short-lived. Arthur had insisted he wasn’t going to back down, and Merlin had told him he refused to watch him die. He’d stormed off, and the prince hadn’t seen him since.
Which didn’t matter, because there was no reason Arthur should be upset over a servant not witnessing the match. Still he found himself looking through the crowds of people, searching for one specific face he knew wouldn’t be there.
At least Morgana and Leon were there for moral support.
When it became time for him to enter the arena, he braced himself, taking a deep breath before jogging into view of his people.
Valiant stood opposite him, but Arthur refused to spare him a glance. Valiant was nothing he hadn’t seen before. Stuck up sword-swingers who thought they ruled the world simply because they were good at one simple thing.
Then the start of the battle was announced, and everything molded into one big haze.
The familiar rhythm of the blade pulsed through his veins, swiping and blocking and piercing to all his might. He did his best to avoid the shield, knowing any contact would mean the end for him.
Somewhere along the way, Valiant lost his helmet. Arthur knew he should just take the advantage, but he didn’t like fighting on an uneven playing field.
Yes, he may be fighting against a cheating scumbag, but that didn’t mean he had to discard his own morals. Besides, if everyone had come here for a good fight, Arthur was going to give them one. Murder or not.
He reluctantly threw off his helmet, to the amazement of the crowd. Then he went right back to fighting, not willing to allow Valiant anymore openings.
It was a promise he failed to keep. By misjudging the force behind one of Valiant’s blows, he accidentally allowed him to gain the upperhand. Easily, his sword flew from his hands, leaving him defenseless.
He was knocked down, losing his shield as Valiant tried to prevent him from getting up. He managed to escape, but Valiant cornered him anyway. Pressed against a wall, shield against his chest.
In a panic, he shoved the knight away, and it had somehow been enough to make Valiant lose control of the shield. Or something. Arthur didn’t know how all that worked.
The shield came to life, snakes jumping from their background trying to maul Arthur to death.
Stupid mysterious servants and their correct warnings. Bad snakes, bad!
He was disarmed, cornered, and honestly just waiting for death at that point.
Then he heard Morgana call his name.
Looking up, she was right there, running onto the training field as she tossed him a sword. He caught it handily, striking every snake that tried to bite him, chopping their head off before they had the chance.
Morgana arrived by his side, backing him up as she sneered insults towards Valiant
He could’ve done it alone, probably. This was better. Morgana apparently had some personal vendetta against the man, and fighting alongside her was something equal to a treat.
Fighting as one force, they disarmed Valiant, somehow striking him in the chest at the same time. They drew their swords back as one, watching as Valiant’s lifeless body crumpled to the ground.
The crowd roared, unperturbed by Morgana’s sudden appearance on the field. It wasn’t the weirdest Camelot had seen.
He grabbed her hand in his, raising them above their heads. This was a victory claimed by both children of the royal household, no arguing with that.
He was trapped in a high of glory and adrenaline, catching Morgana’s smile as they both relished in it.
“Who knew you’d need a maiden to save you, oh knight in shining armour?” She teased, bumping their hips together.
Arthur couldn’t have stopped smiling, even if he had tried. “I guess I have you to thank for being able to breathe, still?”
Morgana looked at him for a good long second, before shaking her head in dismissal, “Nah, you owe that one to the guy who warned me and snuck me onto the field.”
Arthur blinked wondering what in the world she was talking about, and Morgana gestured to the entrance she had come from.
There, leaning against the woodwerk, was Merlin. He gave a little sassy wave, sending Arthur a look that somehow perfectly conveyed ‘I told you so’.
The cheers of the crowd paled in comparison to the one man standing in the shadows, no loud cheers or encouragement. Instead, a smug smile and a proud glint in his eyes, directed at the two victors.
Merlin, who had kept his promise of not coming to watch him die. He came to watch him live.
That deceptive little shit.
_______________
BONUS:
Leon startled at a knock on his door, dropping his paperwork onto the ground. He frowned, trying to think of who it could be.
He only really got visits from Merlin or Arrey, and both of those were at pre-determined timeslots.
Sighing, he stood up and moved towards the door. He reached for the handle, pausing at the eerie quiet that had suddenly filled his surroundings.
Eh, what’s the worst that could happen?
He opened his door, and suddenly his legs got knocked out from under him. Not expecting the attack, he fell down easily.
He closed his eyes as a shadow fell over his face and-
…Was he being licked?
Excited barking encouraged him to open his eyes, finding a dog poached on his lap.
What in the-?
The dog barked again, shoving its nose into Leon’s face as if trying to get his attention. Upon closer inspection, the dog had a small piece of lint around its neck, attaching a message to it.
Leon stared at the dog for a long while, before carefully moving his hands to untie the ribbon. The dog did nothing but wait expectantly, barking again as soon as Leon removed the parchment.
Unrolling it, he found himself reading familiar handwriting.
‘Thanks for the advice, you’re a very wise man. As a token of my gratitude, I present to you: Leon jr!!! I trained him specially for you, so take good care of him :)
-Merlin’
Leon looked back up at the dog. The dog returned his gaze.
“I’m never getting rid of you now, am I?”
The dog licked his face again.