...But Do You Really Ever?

Arthur had never liked feeling guilty. It meant he had been wrong about something. And Princes were never supposed to be wrong. Well, at least he wasn't. He couldn't really speak for the other dunderheaded nobles that often visited Camelot. Actually it was all thanks to one of those insignificant, pompous asses that he was feeling guilty in the first place.

It had started as any normal welcoming ceremony did. Arthur had arrived barely on time, earning a disapproving glance from his father who otherwise ignored him and returned to staring at the hall doors where the visiting King Hammond of Sutherland and his son Aidan swaggered through seconds later. Prince Aidan, it turned out, was a rather dashingly attractive lad –although no where near as dashing as Arthur of course- and immediately captured the interested glances of many of the court ladies, as well as the serving girls, with his tall, dark and handsome physique. Like most princes, Aidan politely ignored the appraising glances until the introductions were over and supper was served, after which he simply preened under them.

His smug smirk was just starting to get annoying to Arthur when he saw Merlin slip in –late as usual- and he heaved a sigh of relief. At least he'd have someone to slander the other royal with later. The manservant's entrance did not go by entirely unnoticed however, as when Arthur turned back to face the table, he saw Prince Aidan watching Merlin fixedly, his smirk long gone. The intensity of Aidan's gaze was disconcerting to say the least, and apparently the reason for it was painstakingly obvious to all but the man in question -who had yet to notice- and Arthur, since the young ladies who had been vying for the dark prince's attention earlier on now sighed disappointedly and returned their attention to others in the party. This confused Arthur even more, and he surprisingly found himself asking Morgana what had just happened. Maybe he'd had more to drink than he'd realized. Morgana must have thought so as well as she raised a dark eyebrow at him in mock pity.

"The young ladies have given up trying to catch the young Prince's attention because it is quite obvious he would rather be entertained by other company." She affirmed, before sipping her own wine delicately. Arthur stared at her in confusion.

"Other company? What is that supposed to… you mean… Merlin?!" he demanded incredulously. Morgana must've been a little too into her own drink as well if she thought so because that just couldn't be possible. First off, the boy was hardly attractive. Well, maybe he was when he had that goofy grin on, or when he was looking decidedly puzzled. Or when he bent over right in front of him to pick up something Arthur had dropped on the floor completely by accident. And secondly, Merlin was a manservant, quite possibly the farthest station away from that of a princes' rank besides the royal chamber-pot cleaner. But thirdly, and most importantly, Merlin was his manservant. There was no way that creep Prince Aidan was going lay a single hand on him.

Lost in his musings, Arthur did not notice as Merlin, having only heard his name, rushed forward to top up his already half-full wineglass. Therefore, he was unable to call upon his 'lightning fast' reflexes to help him dodge the splash of wine aimed directly for him when his clumsy excuse of a manservant tripped on his way over. The hall fell deadly silent as Arthur sat stock still in shock and dripping with rather expensive red wine, and Merlin picked himself gingerly off the floor. The manservant looked around the room, and with growing apprehension turned to follow everyone's gazes. His eyes widened almost fearfully as he took in Arthur's drenched form.

"I am so sorry sire! It was an accident! I didn't- I mean- I…" he trailed off as Arthur turned his head to face him. His face was emotionless, but his eyes were blazing in barely contained rage and humiliation.

Merlin flinched back as the blonde prince opened his mouth, assumedly to yell at him, but all he said was, "Please excuse my manservant and I, my Lords, as it would seem I am in need of a change of clothes." Uther nodded, a small hint of pride shining through his otherwise hard features at his son's dignified handling of the situation. Arthur rose and bowed stiffly to both his father and King Hammond before walking with long, swift strides out of the room, his eyes set straight ahead. Merlin stumbled gracelessly behind him in concern –for Arthur's well-being as well as his own. Neither said anything even after the door to Arthur's bedchamber was shut firmly behind them with an ominous thud. The gangly manservant immediately rushed off to put another outfit together for the prince, who was staring into the dark fireplace and taking deep, calming breaths through his nostrils. Needless to say, they weren't working.

Merlin had always been clumsy -exceedingly so- but never had that clumsiness caused Arthur as much anger as he was feeling now. His thoughts had been focusing around Merlin quite a lot recently, and it had only gotten worse after the week before his twentieth birthday celebration; when he had seen all those serving girls leaving his manservant's room in the early mornings; when it had been him, for once, to walk in on the other man stark naked after one of the afore-mentioned maids had left; when Merlin had told him after his little misunderstanding that girls 'weren't exactly his type' anyways. That week had brought up more emotions in Arthur than he had ever hoped to experience in a year let alone in a matter of days. He had never caught up to Merlin after that –the brunet having somehow disappeared while Arthur tried chasing him down - and they had never brought it up again. But then Arthur had started thinking –an exploit that had proven to be rather dangerous in the past- and realized that all those serving girls leaving Merlin's room had, in fact, been just that: girls. What if Merlin liked older women instead? It was certainly plausible. The man had always gotten along suspiciously well with the older cooks and laundry-women. Merlin probably didn't like men any more than… Uther did. It scared Arthur how much this thought upset him. And now this Prince Aidan had to waltz into their lives with an obvious interest in his manservant and complicate his feelings further. And to top it all off, he had been drenched in wine. Wine that most likely would not come out of his favourite doublet that had somehow become such only after Merlin mentioned it brought out the colour of his eyes and made him look 'quite dashing actually'.

There it was again: Merlin. It always came back to Merlin, didn't it? Well Arthur was getting sick of it. He was a man dammit! And if Prince Aidan had decided he preferred the company of other men, then that was fine by him, but he goddamn well liked women, and no misleading thoughts or feelings he had for his manservant were going to change that. Arthur punched the wall in front of him in frustration when he wasn't even able to convince himself that this was true.

"Arthur?" Merlin's voice -etched with worry and concern and something else that Arthur refused to believe might have been affection- woke him from his thoughts and he turned his head to face the younger man. His anger returned tenfold.

"And what right do you have to call me by my name?" Arthur knew he had had too much to drink at the feast, but he still could not stop the words from coming, could not stop himself from taking all his pent-up frustration out on his manservant; his friend. "You useless excuse for a manservant! You spill wine all down my front, humiliate me –in front of visiting nobles no less- and then have the nerve to address me as an equal?! Well we're not equals Merlin, and it's about time you realized that!" Merlin flinched back more with each word, as if every syllable were like a separate blow. Arthur grabbed the clothes the manservant had pillowed on his outstretched arms and stomped towards the bed, taking his own soaking clothes off as he went.

"And while you're learning exactly where your place is around here, why don't you get someone to teach you how to act like a proper servant as well! You're dismissed." Arthur ordered as he pulled the fresh doublet on over his head himself.

Merlin took a step forward, his eyes full of hurt and confusion. "But sire-"

"Now servant. Come back when you've learned to do your job properly." Arthur commanded, never tuning around to meet the other man's eyes.

He felt more than heard the door slam shut behind Merlin as he left, and waited at least a couple minutes before heading out the door himself, his cool, princely façade never leaving as he walked back into the entrance hall. By this point most of the guests were too drunk themselves to notice when the Prince stumbled on his return to his seat, and those who weren't passed it off as Arthur having had too much to drink himself (which was true really) and thus could never have guessed it was actually because the young royal had spotted Merlin on the other side of the hall in deep discussion with Prince Aidan's own personal assistant. Determined not to let his agitation show though the new, shallow cracks in his mask of indifference, Arthur busied himself with furthering his inebriated state by drinking his weight in whatever alcohol was being served. And if he just so happened to drink a little faster every time Prince Aidan smiled at, or talked to or –hey! Don't touch my Merlin!- then it was entirely coincidental.

*

The next morning Arthur woke to the sound of a bird chirping outside his window. Now if only his crossbow were nearby so he could shoot it. Unfortunately (for him at least) his crossbow was with the rest of his hunting gear in the armory… or the stable… or wherever it was Merlin put his hunting gear, and so he had no choice but to suffer through the unbearable screaming of what should've been a soothing melody. He buried his head in his pillows just in time to block out the sound of someone knocking at the door. That was odd… Merlin never- ohhhhhhhhhhhhh. Arthur slammed his head face-first into his pillows as the memory of last night came flooding in. So it must be a new servant at the door then. There was no way Merlin would come back here after everything he'd said. Arthur couldn't decide whether to cry or scream, but eventually settled for the latter as it was decidedly more manly, and he could get away with it by reforming it into a dignified –if slightly louder than necessary- command of 'come in'.

The servant entered silently and opened all the curtains, thoughtfully excluding the ones beside the Prince's bed and saving him from being blinded by the morning sun. He heard the cupboards being opened and the rustling of clothes, so he knew he only had a few seconds before he would have to get up to be dressed. What he did not expect was the voice that asked him to do so.

"Shall I assist in dressing you now, milord?" asked Merlin, without the slightest hint of sarcasm laced in his words. "Or would you prefer to eat breakfast first?"

Arthur's head shot up so fast he had to close his eyes for well over a minute before his vision stopped spinning enough for him to confirm that yes, it indeed was Merlin that had just asked him politely whether he would prefer dressing or breakfast first. He rubbed a free hand across his eyes to make sure he wasn't seeing things. Because not only was Merlin being polite, but he was actually wearing the standard serving outfit that Arthur had never once seen him wear before now.

"Merlin?" he demanded incredulously at the sight.

His manservant answered, staring at a spot on his headboard just over his right shoulder, with a very humble-sounding "Yes, your highness?" that had Arthur growing increasingly disturbed, and gaping for some time trying to think of what might be appropriate to say in this sort of situation.

"What are you wearing?" his lips blurted out treacherously. He was quite certain that had not been what anyone would call appropriate. But perhaps the slight would cause Merlin to revert back to his old self and come up with a witty come-back so Arthur would know everything was back to normal.

"My uniform Your Majesty. If it displeases you, I can fix it immediately." Merlin responded with yet again, only polite modesty in his voice. It was enough to make Arthur sputter.

"Well… no, it's fine… I suppose. But… what about your usual clothes?" he saw Merlin's mouth harden slightly –barely enough that he wouldn't have noticed if he wasn't so in-tune with his manservant's movements.

"They are unfit to be worn in the presence of nobility such as yourself milord. I would not want to cause embarrassment to your or your household. Would you like me to dress you in your clothes now, sire?" Merlin's voice had reached monotony by this point, and it worried Arthur more than the polite stuff ever would.

"Merlin, are you… alright?" he asked hesitantly, stepping out of his bed and coming around to feel the brunet's forehead for signs of fever. Merlin stepped back only enough to bow low.

"I am perfectly healthy milord. You honor me with your concern, though it is unnecessary." He said with his back still bent. While straightening up he added "Shall I dress you now milord?"

It was only then that Arthur realized he was completely naked. He blushed upon the discovery and nodded silently. Merlin set about dressing him with an efficiency the prince noted could only be from constant practice, though why the manservant thought to only apply it now was as much a mystery to him as Merlin's new attitude. A sudden thought struck him as the servant finished up and resumed his position in front of him, staring above his right shoulder.

"Does this have anything to do with last night? Because I was really drunk and I never really meant what I said. I didn't think you'd take it seriously." he demanded, moving his head in an attempt to meet Merlin's gaze who was trying vainly to avoid such an occurrence- reasons unbeknownst to Arthur.

"I don't know what you're talking about sire." He replied, lowering his gaze where Arthur couldn't match it.

"That! That right there! You never call me 'sire' unless it's heavily laced with sarcasm." He accused. Merlin, however, did not waver.

"I apologize for my past actions milord. They were disrespectful and not worthy someone of your standing. I shall be sure to have the task-master punish me heavily for it when I report to him later." Arthur gaped at him bewildered.

"Well you don't have to do that. I'd say I deserve a little telling off once in a while. I've come to expect it from you." He confessed. Merlin's head raised a fraction of an inch, but he kept his gaze on his boots.

"Whatever you say sire." He said, with such genuine meekness it made the prince want to scream. He settled for grabbing Merlin by the shoulders and slamming him against one of the bedposts.

"Whatever I say hmmm? So if I told you to undress and go lay on my bed so I could have my way with you, what would you do then?" he demanded, his eyes blazing in sudden fury. He was pleased to see Merlin's breathing become heavier and a blush paint his beautifully defined cheekbones. But still his servant –his friend- did not meet his gaze.

"Then it would be my duty to do as you ordered and please you to the best of my abilities." Arthur snapped back as if he'd taken a blow. Hard.

"Duty? Ordered? I may have wanted you in my bed for months Merlin, but I thought you of all people would know that I'd never order you into it, or expect you to do it because of your 'duty'." He whispered, his anger fading to be replaced with hurt and betrayal. How could Merlin ever think something of him? He looked away, watching dust flecks glimmer in the sunlight pouring through the window when Merlin stayed quiet…. Too quiet. He couldn't even hear the other man's breathing. Worried, he turned his head back sharply to be met with wide, disbelieving azure eyes.

"You… want me… in your bed?" the warlock asked slowly, disbelievingly. Arthur's eyes widened as he realized exactly what he had just admitted to.

"I- no! Yes! Only if you- oh sod it." He sighed, defeated. And fell heavily back onto his bed. "You don't have to stay if you don't want to. I'd certainly understand if you didn't."

Merlin had yet to move from where Arthur had thrown him against the bedpost earlier. The prince guessed it might have been due to shock. He closed his eyes and waited for the inevitable sound of the door slamming behind Merlin on his way out. But… it never came. Instead he felt an unsteady hand ghost across his knee.

"Arthur…" that simple word, one he had longed to hear since Merlin had apparently taken it upon himself to never speak again since the night before, was enough to make him lose all control. He sat up quickly and grabbed the arm attached to the hand on his knee, pulling the manservant down on top of him in a ferocious hug. Of course, a passionate kiss would have been preferred, but he wasn't sure Merlin was quite ready for that yet. Damn his new found sensitiveness!

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean a thing I said yesterday. It was that insufferable idiot Aidan." He spat the other prince's name into Merlin's shoulder as the warlock leaned back slightly to hear what he was saying.

"Prince Aidan? What does he have to do with anything?" the brunet demanded incredulously staring down at Arthur in confusion. The blonde pouted and leaned forward to rest his head on Merlin's chest, inhaling deeply, before raising his head again, but keeping his eyes on the Pendragon family crest on Merlin's shirt.

"The prat was perving on you all through dinner. It made me jealous –and if you tell anyone I said that I will kill you- and it scared me. I'm not supposed to feel jealous over my manservant. I didn't want to be jealous. But I was. Because I realized that somehow, between the time it took for you to go from being my manservant to my friend, you suddenly jumped ahead to become something more than that. Something more than what I was willing to admit. So I tried pushing you away last night. And it worked. Until you came in this morning doing exactly what I had told you to do the one time I hadn't really meant it. It killed me to see that I had turned you into any other servant, and I knew then that I wouldn't be able to stand you being anything more or less than what you are Merlin; annoying, clumsy, witty, sorcerer, manservant, hilarious, perfect-" Arthur's list of all Merlin's -redeeming?- qualities was cut short by the warlock's hand over his mouth.

"What?! You know?!" he demanded, shocked and more than a little scared. Arthur's brow furrowed in annoyance as he raised his eyes for the first time since beginning his little speech and swatted Merlin's hand away with his own before returning it to its rightful place on the warlock's hip.

"Know what?" he pouted. He had been on a roll there, why had he been stopped by anything other than a kiss?

"That I'm a… sorcerer." Merlin whispered the last word apprehensively. Arthur frowned. Was that it?

"What? Of course I knew? Was it supposed to be a secret?" Merlin's blush was answer enough. Arthur chuckled lightly before pulling Merlin's head down for a short kiss.

"You're hopeless." He murmured fondly, pulling away only slightly while keeping his hand on the manservant's neck. Merlin pouted playfully.

"I am not! I became the perfect servant overnight for you! I mean just think of all that time I wasted practicing with Prince Aidan when you didn't even want a perfect servant in the first place." He whined. Arthur's smile disappeared instantly.

"You practiced what with Aidan?" he demanded. Merlin grinned before grabbing Arthur's face lightly in his hand and pulling the prince up for another kiss.

"Just kidding. I just practiced proper servant protocol with his own manservant. Honestly, have you ever tried dressing someone else in a royally-befitting manner before? It took me almost all night to get that prince-worthy."

"You practiced… dressing him? All night?" growled Arthur. Merlin remained unfazed as he hopped off Arthur's lap and gathered the prince's laundry, a wide smile on his face.

"You really are rather cute when you're jealous you know." he threw over his shoulder as he walked out the door, leaving Arthur sputtering in his wake.

"I am not cute! Nor am I jealous! Do you hear me Merlin?! MERLIN!"

Author's Note: Okay, so this really was only supposed to be a one-shot, but i just couldn't leave it where it was. Especially with some people asking me to continue it. I'm totally flattered by all your reviews, by the way. I love them all and I'm glad you all liked my first chapter.

Just to mention, I have not seen anything from the second season I hear is now playing due to the fact that I live in Canada, and don't have cable or satellite. Ergo, I don't get any British channels. Except for some minimal British programming on TVO. And even then it's usually just Midsomer Murders. Good show actually. So to get back to the point, if I made any errors or... inconsistencies -NOT including Arthur/Gwen hooking up because even I know that much- please forgive me. Also, sorry if anyone is too OOC. I tried my best.

Anyways, to finish off, this chapter will be the last for this story. Hope it doesn't disappoint too much. And thanks again to all who review/alert/favourited this. It really means alot. Love you all!