Merlin clutched his shoulder that was nearly torn off by the boy who ran past – and nearly into him. He glanced back at the offender, but only saw a mass of limbs and red hair disappearing. Idiot, Merlin thought as he continued walking. He spotted Arthur, standing with Gwen not far from him. Merlin trotted up to them, a smile forming on his face.

“Hello, Gwen,” Merlin said cheerfully as he approached. She didn’t acknowledge him, and Merlin noticed that her eyes were fixed on Arthur. Merlin followed her gaze, to see that Arthur was staring back just as intently. Neither was speaking, and Merlin started to feel awkward.

“Erm…Arthur? Your breakfast is ready,” Merlin said, hoping to break the strange mood. Arthur only blinked, his eyes still locked on Gwen. His lips lifted slightly in the corners, giving him a dreamy look. Merlin stuck his hand out in front of Arthur and waved.

“Hello? Did you hear me?” Merlin asked. He started snapping his fingers as he waved.

“Hmm? What is it, Merlin?” Arthur’s voice was distracted.

“I said that your breakfast is ready, sire,” Merlin said again slowly. “Your father is waiting on you, and I’d rather not spend the day in the stocks for him thinking I didn’t relay the message.”

“Fine,” was all Arthur said with a vague nod, but made no attempt to move. Merlin rolled his eyes as he stood between Arthur and Gwen.

“Arthur! Look at me!” Merlin ordered, uncaring of his tone. Finally, Arthur’s blue eyes lazily moved to Merlin.

“What? What is it?” Arthur asked again. This time his voice was laced with the annoyance that Merlin was used to.

“I told you already,” Merlin emphasized. “Breakfast is waiting, as is your father. We have to go, now.”

Merlin saw the understanding finally spread across Arthur’s face as he nodded.

”Right, breakfast,” Arthur said. He looked back to Gwen, and his hazy smile instantly reappeared. “Actually – would you like to join us for breakfast, Guinevere?”

A smile similar to Arthur’s crossed Gwen’s face.

“You have such a lovely voice, Arthur. Did you know that?” Gwen asked, her voice wistful. Arthur smile widened at this. Merlin’s mouth dropped open.

What was going on? Ever since Arthur’s run-in with the Questing Beast several weeks before, Merlin had noticed a change in the way Gwen and Arthur interacted. But this was a whole new level of strange. Merlin knew that there was no way that Uther would accept Gwen, a mere servant, at the breakfast table. Perhaps Arthur’s judgment was off due to hunger. He thought quickly.

“What have you got there, Gwen?” Merlin asked, pointing to the basket she held. Gwen reluctantly looked to where Merlin was pointing.

“Oh, these are clothes for the poor,” she said, shaking her head. How had she forgotten all about the basket? she wondered. “I…I should deliver these before Morgana rises.”

“Good idea. We all know how touchy she can be in the morning,” Merlin said, happy to for the easy diversion.

Gwen smiled weakly at Merlin before slowly turning and heading further into the square. Merlin noticed that her steps seemed slow and unsure, but decided to ignored it. He turned back to Arthur to find him staring after Gwen as though his favorite meal were being taken away.

“Arthur!” Merlin griped as he grabbed Arthur’s face and pulled it in his direction. Arthur’s eyes remained on Gwen until he was forced to look at Merlin.

“What?” Arthur asked through squished cheeks.

“Get a hold of yourself! People are watching.” Merlin said in a loud whisper. “We have to go.”

Again, Merlin noticed the haziness in Arthur’s eyes clear. Arthur cleared his throat.

“Oh, right, breakfast.” Arthur said with a slight shake of his head. His face then scrunched up irritably before gave Merlin a hard shove, knocking him off his feet. Merlin whimpered as his rear hit the hard ground. He looked up to see Arthur wiping his cheeks with his sleeves.

“And don’t you ever put your grubby hands on my face again, or I’ll have you in the stocks for a week!” Arthur added. Ah yes, Merlin thought. This was the Arthur he knew. Merlin’s arms went up to catch the sword that Arthur casually tossed at him.

“And my sword needs sharpening, and then you can tend to my quarters.” Arthur amended.

“No please, sire! I’ll do it!”

Both Merlin and Arthur turned to the excited voice behind them. A petite brunette that Merlin recognized as one of the castle servants was standing just a few steps from Arthur. Her hands were clasped together in pleading, her eyes wide. Arthur glanced at Merlin curiously, and Merlin shrugged as he got to his feet.

“You’ll what, exactly?” Arthur asked. The brunette took a step closer.

“Tend to your chambers. I’ll make sure they’re perfect for you, sire” she said breathily. Arthur felt the need to take a step back at her intense stare.

“Well, I…appreciate your earnest, erm…?” Arthur began.

“Tara, my lord.”

“Tara. But I’m sure you have other duties around the castle, and I don’t want you to fall behind. Besides, that’s what I’ve got Merlin for, incompetent as he may be.”

Tara then turned and glared at Merlin so viciously that Merlin gulped.

“Um…actually sire,” Merlin began. “There are several things that Gaius could really use my help with today, so if Tara here is willing to take some of my duties, I’d be quite grateful.”

It was a lie, but there were several spells that Merlin was keen on practicing, so a little free time was always good. Arthur looked between Merlin and Tara for a moment before rolling his eyes.

“Whatever,” Arthur said flippantly, turning around.

“Oh, thank you sire! I promise, you won’t regret this! It will be the best your chamber’s have ever been!” Tara called after him, but Arthur continued walking.

Merlin eyed the girl strangely before starting after Arthur.

“You’re lucky you didn’t get in my way, Merlin.” She spat. Merlin froze and turned to look at her, noticing the same venomous glare from before. But before he could address it, she spun and headed in the opposite direction. Merlin watched her for a moment before shaking his head.

“What a strange morning,” Merlin whispered to himself.

“MERLIN!”

Merlin jumped slightly before running to catch up with Arthur.

~*~*~

“What do you think of this one?” Morgana held the light yellow material against her skin and looked at Gwen.

Gwen finished smoothing down Morgana’s bed linens and glanced up. She smiled and nodded.

“It’s beautiful,” Gwen said, and then started to fluff the pillows. Morgana let out a frustrated sigh as the material dropped from her hands.

“You said that about the last three I’ve shown you,” Morgana complained. Gwen chuckled.

“Well I’m sorry, but I really do think they’re all beautiful. You always look lovely, Morgana, no matter what you wear.”

Morgana frowned as she pulled at her hair in front of her mirror.

“I don’t understand why I have to go to this stupid feast anyways,” she muttered. “I’ll be nothing more than decoration for Uther’s guests. And worse, they’re Viroconian.”

Gwen laughed as she walked up to the table holding all of the fabrics.

“What’s so wrong with Viroconian men?”

Morgana made a face.

“They’re terrible, that’s what! All a bunch of brooding bullies. And the way they treat their women? Ugh, they’re disgusting.” Morgana stated. “You’re lucky you don’t have to interact with them.”

“Yes, lucky,” Gwen said absently as she traced her fingers along a bolt of material. Morgana turned from the mirror to look at Gwen.

“You like that one?”Morgana asked of the blue fabric Gwen was touching. Gwen nodded.

“I love the colour,” Gwen replied. “It reminds me of Arthur’s eyes. Well, except for when he’s upset. Then they get darker, a bit like the sea at night.”

A small smile tugged at the edges of Morgana’s lips as she stepped closer to Gwen.

“I had no idea you’d studied Arthur’s eyes so closely,” Morgana teased. “What else have you noticed about him?” Gwen’s eyes took on a dreamy look.

“Not much, really. Though – do you find that his hair reminds you of ripened wheat? And it always looks so soft. Which is a bit of a contradiction considering how rugged he is.” Gwen then giggled as she toyed with one of her curls. “He does fill out his armor rather nicely, doesn’t he?”

Morgana’s eyebrows rose before she burst into a fit of laughter. Gwen head shook slightly before focusing on Morgana.

“What?” Gwen asked, genuinely confused. Morgana took a gulping breath.

“I don’t believe it,” Morgana said between giggles. “You fancy him.”

“Fancy who?”

“Arthur, you silly girl.”

Gwen’s eyes widened as heat rushed to her cheeks. It wasn’t true…was it? Gwen started to shake her head.

“Don’t even try to deny it,” Morgana ribbed. “It’s written all over your face. How long has this been going on?”

Gwen turned away from Morgana and started wringing her hands nervously.

“It hasn’t – I mean…I don’t think…I should – You know, you really should pick something soon or the seamstress won’t have time to put anything together.” Gwen stuttered as she lunged for the pile of clothes that sat on a chair. Morgana laughed again as she watched Gwen.

“It’s alright if you do like him Gwen,” Morgana soothed. “There’s nothing wrong with a harmless infatuation. Though I have to admit, I always thought you had a thing for Merlin.”

“Merlin and I are just friends,” Gwen said quickly.

“Obviously.”

Morgana continued to eye Gwen with a knowing grin while Gwen fidgeted under her gaze. Finally, Morgana picked up the blue fabric.

“I’ll wear this one, in honor of Arthur’s eyes,” Morgana said, batting her eyelashes. Gwen couldn’t help but laugh. “And you can wear the red of Camelot. It always looks nice against your skin.”

Gwen smiled as she thought of that. Morgana chuckled again as she placed the bolt of material in Gwen’s hands, before placing her hands on Gwen’s shoulders. At that moment, Morgana felt a strange dizzying sensation come over her causing her to sway.

“Morgana?” Gwen said with concern. “Are you alright?”

Morgana closed her eyes against the spinning sensation as she tried to steady herself. Gwen eased her into a chair, dropping the fabric as she did so.

“Morgana?” Gwen asked again. Morgana let out a small sigh as she shook her head.

”I’m fine, Gwen,” she said quietly. She opened her eyes slowly as Gwen leaned over to pick up the dropped fabric,

Gwen didn’t notice the green light that flashed through Morgana’s eyes before she closed them again.

~*~*~*

Merlin felt his entire body tremble under the force of the sword hitting his shield. He’d hardly recovered from it when another came, just as forcefully. He turned slightly when he saw Arthur’s arm come at him from his left, and managed to shift his shield over his shoulder as Arthur sent another blow with his sword to his right. This one was so hard that Merlin fell backwards, cradling himself under the shield as he waited for another hit. But it didn’t come. He peeked out from behind the shield to see Arthur standing over him, panting heavily as he extended a hand to him. Merlin tentatively took it and let Arthur help him to his feet.

“Sorry about that,” Arthur said between breaths. “I guess I got carried away.”

Merlin rubbed his shoulder as he let the shield drop to the ground.

“I’ll say,” Merlin agreed. “Everything alright?”

Arthur walked over to a table nearby and grabbed the ladle from the water bucket.

“It’s just…this stupid feast tonight,” Arthur muttered before swallowing the contents of the ladle.

“The one for the Viroconians?” Merlin asked, taking a ladle for himself. Arthur shook his head at Merlin with irritation.

“No, the other feast my father’s holding tonight, in honor of your stupidity!” Arthur griped. “Of course that one. It’s completely unnecessary,”

Merlin swallowed another ladle of water before wiping his mouth on his sleeve.

“Why? I thought your father said it was to maintain good relations with them? That’s a good thing isn’t it?” Merlin asked.

“Good relations?” Arthur scoffed. “My father’s never given a flying fig about his relationships with other kingdoms. What he wants is a bigger army to help him with his war against magic.”

Merlin’s jaw clenched in his effort to bridle his tongue. It seemed that Uther couldn’tjust be satisfied with snuffing out nearly all the magic in Camelot, despite the pain that had already caused.

“And what does your father hope to accomplish by having the Viroconians join us?” Merlin asked. Arthur shrugged.

“Who knows?” Arthur grumbled. “Their army is nothing more than a bunch of mindless brutes.”

“But I thought strength was a good thing to have as a warrior?” Merlin mused.

“Strength is only as good as the person that wields it,” Arthur informed. “Too much power in the wrong hands is like giving a child a bludgeon.” Arthur then grinned. “Or worse, giving you a sword.”

“You’re so funny, your highness,” Merlin deadpanned, wiping his sweaty brow. “Well, if you’re this enthusiastic about the feast, I can only imagine how Morgana feels about it. Knowing your father, he’ll expect Morgana to be charming company for our guests.”

Arthur chuckled at this as he sat on the wooden table.

“Well, if it brings Morgana some discomfort, then maybe there is a bright side after all.” Arthur quipped. Merlin frowned at him.

“Are you still upset with her?”

“She challenged my father outright and had herself jailed for it,” Arthur stated. “And what’s more is that she hasn’t had a pleasant thing to say about him since.”

“I know,” Merlin said quietly. “But you know she only did that because she was upset about Gwen.”

Arthur’s face softened at the mention of Gwen’s name.

“I realize that.” Arthur let out a deep sigh. “But why can’t she be more like Guinevere?  Guinevere’s been more than forgiving about it all. And she’s kind. And thoughtful. And…sweet really. And she looks really pretty in red.”

Merlin stopped fidgeting with the strap on his padding to look at Arthur.

“What?” he asked, but Arthur continued on as if Merlin hadn’t spoken.

“I know that the servant’s colors are mustard, and that looks just fine on her, kind of like she’s wrapped in sunlight. But when she wears the red of Camelot, it’s…remarkable, just like her. She’s remarkable, don’t you think?”

Merlin blinked at Arthur for a moment, waiting for him to start laughing. He didn’t.

“Alright, that’s it.” Merlin said, folding his arms. “What’s this all about? You’ve been acting strangely since this morning.”

Arthur looked at him blankly.

“What do you mean?”

“Gwen!” Merlin squeaked. “You’ve never talked this much about her in as long as I’ve known you.”

“Really?” Arthur asked. “That’s strange.”

“Yes, it is,” Merlin agreed. “So why don’t you tell me what’s happening?  You don’t…do you fancy her or something?”

Arthur stared at Merlin intensely for a moment before rolling his eyes.

“Or something.” Arthur answered sarcastically. “Like my idiot servant concocting stories to divert from how terrible he still is in combat.”

Merlin gave Arthur a poisonous glare before pulling the padding off of his arm. Arthur threw his glove at him playfully as he glanced up at the movement he saw in the corner of his eye. He looked up to see Gwen, standing on the balcony outside of Morgana’s room, shaking out a small carpet. The light from the sun was glinting off of her dark curls, giving them a golden tint.

It seemed to Arthur as though everything slowed down as he watched Gwen do the mundane task. He noted how graceful her movements were, and the way she tossed her head back when an unruly lock of her hair fell into her eyes. She leaned over the edge of the balcony to beat the rug, and her eyes met his. Arthur felt his heart speed up almost instantly as he took in her soft brown eyes that seemed to warm as they looked at him. He felt a smile cross his face, and she smiled in return.

Arthur was vaguely aware of his name being called, but it was like a buzzing in his ear; nothing nearly as important as the beauty in front of him. He ignored it. He needed to get closer to her, to his Guinevere. Yes, that’s what she was. His. He shrugged off the impediment on his arm and started forward, but felt the tug on his arm again.

“Arthur! Where are you going?” 

“To Guinevere,” Arthur answered flatly. Merlin looked up to where Arthur was staring and then ran up to him again.

“Arthur? What’s going on with you? You can’t go to Gwen now, we’ve still got practice! Arthur – stop!”

Merlin pulled again on Arthur’s arm, this time with all of his weight. Arthur finally turned to him, and Merlin staggered back as he saw the green light shine at him from Arthur’s eyes. The light distracted him and he wasn’t prepared for the hard shove Arthur gave him, sending him into the archery dummy behind him. It knocked the wind out of Merlin, and he slouched to the ground.

“Don’t ever try to stand between me and Guinevere again, Merlin.” Arthur’s words dripped with malice before he turned and continued on his way, leaving Merlin to catch his breath.

~*~*~*

Dristan watched Tara as she placed the folded garments into a basket at her feet. She pulled up a white shirt and looked at it intensely, before bringing it to her nose and inhaling deeply. Dristan’s fists clenched as he realized it was likely one of Arthur’s shirts. This wasn’t going to do at all.

He looked down the corridor to his left to be sure there were no guards before he tip-toed over to Tara. She seemed oblivious to him until he was right beside her.

“Dristan!” she hissed as she dropped the shirt. “What are you doing in here?”

“I came to see you,” Dristan said, trying his best to sound calm. Tara grunted and resumed her folding.

“Well, I’m obviously working, Dristan,” Tara said angrily. “So you should just go before one of the guards catches you.”

Dristan leaned over, trying to catch Tara’s eyes. He knew it was a long shot, but part of him hoped that maybe if she looked at him long enough, the flower’s spell might still work with him.

“Listen, Tara, I need to talk to you – privately. Do you think you could meet me for lunch, in the square?” Dristan asked hopefully. Tara shook her head.

“I can’t do that,” she replied firmly. “I have to tend to Arthur’s quarters today. It has to be perfect… just like him.” She let out a sigh, and Dristan rolled his eyes.

“Tara, please!” Dristan begged. “I know what you’re thinking, and it’s not going to happen. Arthur is a prince! You’re a servant and a commoner. He’ll never see you as anything else.”

“That’s not true!” Tara hissed, her eyes fierce. “He and I belong together, do you understand? He belongs with me and I with him. He’ll see that soon…I’ll make him.”

Dristan grunted loudly, pulling the basket of clothes away from her.

“No, he won’t!” Dristan growled. “He’ll never see you for who you really are! He’ll never know how wonderful and smart and lovely you are, not like I do. Look, Tara…please-“

Dristan’s words trailed off as Tara started to laugh at him. It started out as a giggle, but then graduated into a full blown cackle.

“You?” Tara said, her voice devoid of emotion. “Oh poor, pathetic, daft Dristan. You really think you know anything about me? That there’s some kind of…future, for you and I?”

Dristan felt his heart tighten at the coldness in her eyes and words. They both turned when they heard heavy footsteps behind them, and Dristan drew against at the wall. A moment later, they saw Arthur enter the hallway, looking in both directions. Dristan’s heart sped up as he thought he would be discovered, but Arthur then turned the other way. It was then that Dristan noticed that the handmaiden from that morning was standing at the other end of the hallway.

“What does he want with Gwen?” Tara muttered.

She had turned to look at Arthur now, both Dristan and her task forgotten. Dristan watched Arthur and Gwen for a moment before remembering why he was there. It was now or never, Dristan thought. He had to try.

“It doesn’t matter,” Dristan said, standing in front of Tara and blocking her view to Arthur. Tara dodged from side to side to try and look behind him, but he continued. “What does matter is – is how I feel about you. And if you’d just give me a chance – “

“A chance to what?” Tara said. Her eyes blazed with anger as she finally glared up at Dristan. “Marry me and make me the wretched wife of a miserable little shopkeeper? “

Dristan drew back from her, stung by her words.

“You, Dristan, are nothing more than a sad little boy who’ll never amount to anything.” Tara continued. “Arthur Pendragon is ten times the man you’ll ever be, and the only man worthy of my affections! Now for both our sakes, will you please stop wasting our time and just leave me alone!”

Dristan was speechless. He’d never known Tara to be capable of such cruelty, and wasn’t quite sure he believed it.

“Now get out of my way, I have to talk to Arthur,” Tara said, side-stepping him. Dristan’s hurt quickly turned to anger at hearing this, and he reached out to grab Tara’s arm. She wheeled around pushing at him to get away.

“Let me go!” she yelled, and Dristan’s mouth dropped as he saw the same green glow from earlier that morning flash through her eyes again. He suddenly felt weak and dizzy, and his grip on Tara loosened. She took the opportunity to yank her arm free.

“No one will come between me and Arthur!” Tara threatened.

Dristan had closed his eyes to offset his dizziness. Tara said nothing of the green light that she saw in his eyes as he opened them to look on her. Before he could speak, she was already gone, stepping purposefully towards Arthur.

Dristan watched her as he felt his determination mount, fuelled by his anger. Only Tara mattered now.

“You’re wrong Tara,” Dristan said as he steadied himself against the wall. “It is that no one will stand between you and I.” Dristan’s eyes drifted back to Arthur, who seemed to be engrossed in conversation with Gwen. Dristan’s eyes narrowed as his hands clenched into fists.

“Your days are numbered, Arthur Pendragon.” Dristan promised, before stealing into the corridor to his left.