This has been posted on my livejournal account, xaritomene, for a while now, and I'm only just starting to cross-post it here. I hope it works! Thanks to Von who encouraged me to cross-post. :D

Looking back on it, Arthur reflected rather ruefully that he had no one to blame but himself.

It had been about a month ago that he had finally realised his growing attraction to Merlin was more than simple healthy male bonding, and was edging into the realm of outright infatuation. Instead of thinking things through, he had panicked – badly. And rather than be sane and rational about it, he did everything in his power to make sure that he pushed Merlin as far away as possible. So really, this whole situation had been his fault. He had practically thrown the two of them together, for pity's sake.

His attraction to Merlin was more – persistent – than he would have liked, and Sir Gawain was new to court, was one of several sons, and had no servant to attend him. It was a moment's thought to assign Merlin to him for the time being; a neat solution. Arthur was almost proud of himself.

He saw Merlin less, which was just as well, since he'd been snapping and snarling at the other boy recently, trying to distance himself as much as possible. The look of hurt confusion on Merlin's face every time he verbally slapped him was almost as painful as the look of inevitable resignation he had been starting to wear recently whenever it happened, and it was best for the two of them to spend some time apart.

"You're to work for Sir Gawain." He told him, without looking at the other boy. "He's been assigned rooms the other side of the castle. I don't expect you to wait on me at the same time."

Merlin, in the middle of folding clothes, stopped and stared. "What?" he asked, confused. "I- why? There are any number of servants-"

"My father thinks very highly of his," Arthur doubted Uther had ever even heard of Sir Gawain's father, but he was sure he would have thought highly of him if he had, "And he is to be made comfortable while he is here. This was the least courtesy we can extend him."

"Another servant-"

"Don't interrupt!" Arthur snapped, then felt bad as Merlin looked back down at the clothes and started folding again, his eyes a little hurt, his movements jerky. "You've been trained as a manservant, you're the most suited for the job." He finished, tiredly.

Merlin simply nodded. "Yes, sire."

Perversely upset at this lack of reaction, Arthur prodded. "That's it? No more complaints?"

"They're not likely to go down well, are they?" Merlin challenged, and Arthur acknowledged the point with a grunt. "Who's going to be serving you, then, while I'm gone?"

Arthur shrugged. "I'm not a stranger at court; it's easier for me to train up a new servant than it would be for Sir Gawain." He paused, staring at his servant and friend for a long moment before turning away. This would be so much easier to do if he didn't have to look at Merlin while he did it. "You should go to him now, he'll be wondering where you are."

He heard Merlin put the clothes down, and felt a momentary pang at the lack of argument from the other boy, who would once have been voluble in his disapproval of the scheme. When Merlin reached the door, he just couldn't help himself, and turned, quickly. "Oh, and Merlin?" The darker boy looked up, hopefully. "I'll, er… I'll see you around."

Merlin's expression softened just a little, and he nodded, before slipping out.

Over the next couple of days, Arthur watched with unfair resentment as Gawain seemed to slowly but surely replace him in Merlin's affections. Whenever he saw the two of them together – which was more often than either of them knew, though he would have denied that he was 'spying' on them, if they had asked; it was just making sure his old servant was in a good position, nothing more – Merlin seemed to be smiling or laughing, and the hands Gawain so often clapped onto the other boy's shoulder were far too friendly for Arthur's liking.

It took a week or so before he swallowed what was left of his pride, and asked Merlin about it.

He still had enough pride to be subtle – never sneaky, Princes were never sneaky – about it. He managed to get himself a minor injury on the practice courts, and headed to Gaius about it when he knew Merlin would be there.

"Physician?" he called out, and pretended to double take when he saw Merlin there. Really, he was getting rather good at this subtlety lark. "Oh, Merlin. Hallo." He said, sweetly, and gained a confused look in response.

"Hi?" Merlin said, doubtfully.

"I'm just here to see the court physician because I injured myself on the practice courts, I didn't know you were going to be here." Arthur told him, and was proud of his cunning.

Merlin frowned suddenly. "How on earth did you manage that?" he asked, hurrying over and grabbing the hand Arthur had gestured with. He had contrived to fall on it when he deliberately tripped as he blocked someone's sword, and though it wasn't broken he wasn't that desperate – he'd manage to bruise it impressively. "Gawain told me you fell over. Arthur, you never fall over." He laid a hand on Arthur's forehead, then backed away just as suddenly as he had come over. Arthur, in a slight daze at the other boy's touch, simply stared at him. "Sorry." He muttered. "Are you sure you're not ill? Gawain said you haven't been quite yourself over the past day or so."

Apparently, his plotting hadn't been as subtle as he had hoped, but Arthur was distracted from that reflection by Merlin's apparent obsession with Gawain. "Ah, yes, Gawain." He said, in what he hoped was a casual fashion. "How is that going for you?"

Merlin flushed a little, and looked away. "Oh, he's very – nice." He said, slowly.

"Really?" Arthur asked, quickly. "Because, you know, if you have any problems, you can tell me, I can," Sort them, "Look into it."

Merlin gave him a faintly incredulous look, but answered civilly enough all the same – which was unusual in itself. "No, sire, there are no problems. Sir Gawain is very kind."

"Oh." Some small, unworthy part of Arthur was doing the mental equivalent of stamping its foot and sulking. "That's good, I'm glad. How long is he staying, again?"

"He's joined the Camelot knights for six months, for experience." Merlin said, promptly. "Before he heads back home to Lothian. His brother Gaheris did the same thing a couple of months ago, remember?"

"Ah. Good." He nodded, awkwardly. Merlin stared at him for a moment longer, then shook his head and moved away.

"So, how is your new manservant?" he asked, his voice very light and casual, and for one crazy moment, Arthur wondered whether Merlin felt as jealous of Arthur's new manservant as Arthur felt of Merlin's new master. Then he shook himself out of such a stupid though, and cleared his throat before answering.

"He's very – adequate." He said, stiffly, and Merlin shot him That Grin.

"Really? Gwen said you could hear you shouting at him all over the castle when he messed up your armour."

"A knight is only as good as his equipment." Arthur told him, shifting uncomfortably, and Merlin's grin grew.

"Oh? I thought the equipment was only as good as the knight?" Arthur could remember himself saying that, and flushed awkwardly.

"Well, as Prince of Camelot, I have to uphold the honour of my country, and I can't do that in armour that looks like a beaten out saucepan."

"No. Because, as Prince of Camelot, you have to look shiny." Merlin grinned, and Arthur was torn between wanting to kiss him and wanting to box his ears.

"If you were still my servant, Merlin, I'd beat you for that."

"Then I suppose I'm lucky I'm not your servant any more." Both of them winced a little at the reminder.

"Well…" Arthur said, after a long, awkward pause. "I, er… I should get going."

Merlin nodded, mutely, before stopping him suddenly. "I thought you were here for your hand?" he asked, and Arthur managed to hide the wince at his own bungling.

"Oh, yes. Do you know when Gaius will be back?"

Merlin shook his head. "He went to see the Lady Morgana about her nightmares, he could be back in half an hour or so. But, um, here." He grabbed a small pot of a green, slimy-looking goop, and a small bottle. "This should help with the bruising and the swelling." He said, as he corked it. "And a couple of sips of this should help with any pain." He went to hand both of them over, then paused. "Um, will you be alright to carry them?" He asked, uncertainly, and Arthur held out an imperious hand for the two jars.

"I'll be fine, Merlin, it's bruised not broken. Now hand them over."

Merlin obeyed with a slight grin, and for a brief space, it was almost like it had been before. Then Arthur's hand fell back to his side, the moment broke, and he turned to leave.

"Uh, Arthur?" Merlin called after him, and he turned in the doorway. "Hope it, er – gets better quickly."

For once Arthur didn't come back with some sarcastic comment, but simply nodded rather jerkily, and left.

Things didn't improve over the next week or so, and Arthur had the dubious satisfaction of knowing that not only was his torment of his own making, it was set to go on for six months unless he could think up another plan to rectify his old plan. It was a complicated way to go about things, but it was the best Arthur could think of.

In a moment of weakness, he confessed the whole to Morgana and that maid of hers, and was surprised to find in her a sympathetic ear, for all her speaking looks and wry comments. She didn't laugh like he had expected her to, and she didn't pass judgement. She just… listened. Some of her advice was even useful. But her suggestion that he confess to Merlin was just – ludicrous. So when she suggested that he see about getting close to Gawain, he seized on the idea with enthusiasm.

Over the next few days, he practically stalked the younger knight, until Gawain turned round on morning and asked, with some asperity, whether he had done 'something wrong'. Arthur made a brief note that the kitten apparently had claws, and smiled jovially at him.

"Oh, no." he said, blithely. "I just make a point of trying to get to know all the knights."

Gawain still looked a little suspicious, and raised an eyebrow slightly. However, when he spoke, his voice was perfectly polite, if a little dry. "Well, I'm probably just a provincial bumpkin, but where I'm from we mostly do that by talking."

Arthur considered cursing him for his impudence, and then decided that would be rather counter-productive. "Oh, no." he said, quickly. "I'm just – with all the court intrigue, you know," He adopted what he hoped was an air of sophisticated cynicism, and dammit, there was a reason he usually did this sort of thing with a sword in his hand, "Words can seem a little… over-used. I believe in judging a man by his actions, not by his words."

It seemed to be the right thing to say. A smile broke through the suspicion on Gawain's face, and Arthur fervently hoped he didn't end up liking him as well. That would make all this so awkward. "Well then, your Highness, I'm Gawain of Lothian. It's good to meet you."

Arthur held out a hand. "Good to meet you too, Gawain. And please – the Knights all call me Arthur."

He took Gawain to one of the many taverns in Camelot and bought him a couple of drinks, then carefully plied him with questions about his home and his life, before leading up to the big one.

"And how are you settling in at Camelot, then, Gawain?" he asked, cheerfully. He hadn't stinted himself on the alcohol either, though knowing he wasn't going to wake up to Merlin's sympathetic grins and peculiar hangover remedies made him a little more wary of it now. The first thing he did when Merlin was his manservant again was to get totally hammered.

…or maybe that was the second thing. Actually, he had a list of things he wanted to do the moment Merlin was his again, and getting drunk was fairly low down on that list.

"Everyone's been very kind." Gawain said, slurring ever so slightly. Looking at him, Arthur couldn't help but think how iyoung /ihe was. He himself wasn't exactly old, but Gawain hadn't grown up in the intrigue of Camelot, with Uther as a father. It felt – wrong – to be trying to trick the other man, boy, like this.

"I assigned you a manservant, I hope he's been – adequate?"

"Merlin?" Gawain visibly brightened. "I have you to thank for assigning him to me? Arthur, he's been a treasure. So friendly."

"He's just a servant, Gawain." Arthur said, dryly, and reminded himself of it at the same time, though the hypocrisy was a little bitter in his mouth. Merlin had never been just a servant.

For once, Gawain refused to be dampened by his Prince's disapproval. "Maybe he is just a servant. But he's been such a help to me – more than a friend, a confidante." He had blushed a little as he spoke of Merlin, with a touching earnestness, and he flushed a little harder now. "I daresay things are done differently here in Camelot. But in Lothian, i-it's no shame to acknowledge servants, or to be friends with them. We're a small fief, nothing like Camelot, and things are different. Merlin is a good friend, though, and I shan't say anymore."

Arthur took a long drink of his own ale. "I'm sure you know Merlin was my manservant before he was assigned to you?"

"Yes." Gawain was still flushed, but faintly defiant; those kitten claws were back. One day, this boy was going to make a formidable knight, Arthur could tell. "And I'm sorry if he displeased you in some way, but-"

"Oh, peace." Arthur said, rather tiredly. "What I was going to say was he is a good servant, and a good – person. You can tell him from me that… that it won't be such a trial to have him back when you leave, if he still wants."

Gawain frowned a little, though his flush had lessened. "You can't tell him yourself?"

"From the way you two seem to get on, I'm sure he'd prefer to hear it from you." Arthur commented, wryly, and moved the conversation on.

The next morning, once his duties were done, he headed back up to Morgana's chambers, and unburdened his heart to her. "He's nice." He said, horribly disappointed. "Younger than me, but nice. He can't be much more than a year younger than me, but he makes me feel so tired, all that earnestness and decency!"

Morgana quirked a smile at that. "You know, Arthur, you're not so badly off yourself, when it comes to decency."

He mustered up a smile for her. "Can I have that in writing?"

"And be blackmailed by it? No, thank you." She smiled even more widely at him. "It's only six months." She told him, gently. "And you don't have to cut Merlin out of your life completely. Gawain has the courage to tell you that he likes a servant, and I'm certainly not ashamed to say that Gwen," he glanced at her handmaiden, who dropped him a quick curtsey, "Is one of my closest friends. Why don't you make an effort? Get to know Merlin a little?"

Arthur looked away. "It wouldn't be seemly." He said, awkwardly.

"To hell with seemly!" Morgana said, a little exasperated. "I thought you said you loved him?!"

"I do, but-"

"Then what has seemly got to do with the price of butter?" She demanded, and he sagged a little.

"What if he doesn't like me like that?" he asked, looking away from her, and hoping like hell he wasn't flushing.

"Then he doesn't." Morgana said with brutal practicality. "But wouldn't not knowing for sure be better than wondering forever?"

"If I might interrupt, your Highness, my lady," It was the handmaiden, Guinevere, "Merlin is very fond of you, your Highness." She told him. "But he's not always very-" she broke off, considering her words. "He can be a bit stupid when it comes to things like this." Arthur's eyes sparked. "Not all the time!" she hurried on. "But he might not even know what he's feeling. If you got to know him better, made it more obvious to him…"

"He might think about it?" He wanted to sneer her idea away, but she was one of Merlin's friends, and he would hardly that Arthur for hurting her feelings. "Thank you." he said, politely, and she blushed just a little. "It's well worth considering."

"You see?" Morgana said, unforgivably smug. "Get to know him better, and see how things go."

There didn't seem to be anything else to say. He got up, bowed, and left, with things to think about.

A couple of days later, and he decided to at least try their ideas; what harm could it do, after all? Losing face was infinitely preferable to losing Merlin.

Gaius told him Merlin was with Gawain when he knocked, and Arthur headed over there, trying to think up some pretext for his visit. Since it was dark, a visit to the practice courts was out of the question, but some question about a sword technique from Lothian – no matter that he had never seen Gawain do any such thing, he could always bluff through it – should do it.

He knocked as he opened the door, and instantly wished his father had taught him a greater appreciation for other people's privacy. Gawain and Merlin were stood by the fireplace, Merlin pressed against the wall, Gawain's hands cupping his cheeks, and they had very obviously been – well. Kissing.

Arthur felt tilt-silly, suddenly – like he'd gone one too many rounds jousting, or was seeing the world from underwater. Everything seemed to slow, and it was only when he heard Merlin's voice that he snapped out of it.

"Arthur? Your Highness?" he was saying. He was still leant up against the wall, but Gawain had thankfully moved away, while Arthur had been staring, sightless, at them. The younger man was now over by the window, his back to Arthur, his shoulders rigid.

"Er, yes." He said, his voice a little thick. Awkwardly, he cleared his throat. "Um, I just came to ask about a technique I saw you use once," Oh, Arthur hated innuendo, "But I can see you're busy," damn, damn, damn, "So I'll come later. Er, come back later." Shit.

Merlin was staring at him, those beautiful eyes of his wide and wary. "You're not… angry? About this?" he gestured at Gawain and then back to himself.

Momentarily, Arthur shut his eyes. Angry wasn't it, no. Heartbroken just about fit it, though. "No, Merlin, you idiot." He said, tiredly. "Why would I be angry?" It didn't matter that his first reaction, once he had recovered from the shock, had been to throw Gawain into the lake, and challenge him for Merlin; or that he had thought for one crazy second that Gawain had somehow forced Merlin into this until he saw Merlin's hands on Gawain's hips. He didn't have the right to be angry, however much he might want it.

"Oh. Good." Merlin smiled, but it looked a little off to Arthur.

Gawain had turned round, and though he had no right to be, he himself looked a little angry. "We are in love." He told Arthur, defiantly, and though Arthur didn't miss the slightly surprised glance Merlin sent his self-declared paramour, he couldn't seem to understand it.

"After two weeks?" he managed, through numb lips. Gawain's answering nod was still a little defiant. "Well…" He said, finally, after a long, awkward pause. "Good wishes to you both, then. Gawain, I will see you in the practice fields." It took conscious effort to make himself look at Merlin. In the end, it was all he could do to nod at him, before he turned and left the room.

And there it is! Did you like it? Do tell. ^_^