This..just happened I suppose. o.O

I'm really anxious about the new episode coming out, I guess my fingers were too, so I just typed away and this came out. Didn't plan for a third chapter for this fic, but since it did happen, might as well post and wait for feedback. Hope you like..

Enjoy~

...

He knew these stairs, better then anyone. That was the reason he could allow himself to drift off in thoughts and not really watch where he's going – but he knew where he was heading.

He's been to Gwaine's chambers. The knight was now conscious, managed to sit up and, with some help, even eat something. He was sustaining a fractured arm, few broken ribs, sprained ankle and several cuts and bruises, quite a few needing stitches, along with a black eye; but all this didn't keep him from smiling at the young man when he stepped in.

"Anything you need?" – the young prince asked after some time they were talking.

"Yea, I could kill for a good tankard of mead from the lower town."

"Right." - Arthur scoffed. – "Not until Gaius says it's alright. It wouldn't mix well with the medicine."

Gwaine frowned looking over at the small table next to his bed, having several small vials set on it and gave off an irked sigh.

"But I'll get you one personally once he says it's okay." – the young man added and smiled; though not as wide as the knight.

He felt so much gratitude towards this man, he couldn't even begin to fully comprehend it. A tankard of mead couldn't possibly cut it, but he knew the knight won't have anything else or anything more. He was glad to see he was in good spirits, even though he looked anything but; and also looking a bit dazed - from the painkillers – Arthur figured.

It wasn't really the knight-training that kept him alive and baring relatively well what had happened to them in the past few days, but more the life conditions he had, before finding a home in Camelot. The prince would wonder at times how could a man live a life of constant journey and taverns and brawls; although, he would admit to himself, when he was alone, that there were times, when he too would wish for a life less organized and with the simplicity of a traveler's one.

"How's Merlin?" – he eventually asked with a serious tone and a bit more quiet.

"Gaius says he will recover." – Arthur said looking at his hands in front of him.

"Have you seen him?" – Gwaine asked a little weary of the answer.

Arthur nodded; a flash of memories coming around of blood and gashes and angry red lines across a scrawny back. He winced.

"He was.. in bad shape, but Gaius says it will heal." - he said swallowing and got up to leave. It suddenly felt uncomfortable to be there.

"You'll just have to get dressed on your own for a while then, princess." – the knight said and watched the young prince scoff.

The young man then smiled at the knight; nodded and left.

.*.

Arthur got away with some bruises on his cheek and a few cuts here and there, he earned at the fight that took place after his knights arrived to rescue them, he was limping a little, but still felt lucky. Gwaine put up an incredible fight and defended himself.. but Merlin, he didn't even have a chance.. He felt his stomach tense.

In a sudden flash he remembered the moment Percival had cut the ropes that held the boy's wrists in a hurtful grip; how limp his bloody body was, like a ragdoll soaked in red; how dead he looked in the arms of Leon, as the knights carefully lowered him onto the ground to check on his injuries.

Arthur felt a shiver run up his spine as he remembered the sight of his abused servant and the dread and worry he felt in that moment.

He was glad he didn't meet any guards along the way as he walked along the corridors.

He stopped at the court physicians' door. Listening for a while he couldn't hear anything so he knocked quietly, then still not getting a reply he pushed the door in. This time he found the main chamber empty, with vials and herbs and mixtures on the table, wraps of bandages tossed in a messy pile in the rush that the elderly physician had left them in; the patient cot empty.

He peered over to the back end of the room and found the door to be slightly open.

Arthur closed the entrance door behind him, then made his way towards it then stopped at the stairs and listened. There was no sound coming from the small room either. He tensed, not sure for a moment what to do then took hold of himself and made those last few steps.

Carefully pushing the door aside he tried as best he could not to cause too much noise.

He paused again after spotting Merlin on his cot.

The gashes weren't visible this time, for they were covered with a bigger piece of folded cloth, but the redness still seeped though it. He was laying on his stomach, one hand drawn up close to his face, and he didn't seem to notice his visitor.

Arthur stepped forward, only to see his servant to be sound asleep.

Gaius must have given him something. – he figured. The old man surely didn't want his ward to be in pain. And sleep helped his healing.

Arthur spotted a small chair next to the bed and decided to take a seat. He knew the young man wouldn't wake if he was indeed in a drug induced sleep, but he felt he wanted to be there, even though if anyone would've asked him he probably would've been unable to give an answer as to why.

He looked at the sleeping young man; his forehead still seemed a bit clammy and his hair a bit wet around the temples, but in all he looked peaceful. The white bandage around his wrist didn't strike out as much which made the prince realize just how pale he looked.

His glance inevitably wandered to the young servants back and the cloth covering his back that was dirtied with blood; judging by its color it had been soaked in some greenish tincture before it got on the boy's back. Arthur also spotted red trails along with the greenish ones that ran downwards on the boy's his side and disappeared into the bedding, the redness looking vivid against the pale skin; some wounds were still bleeding it seemed. He could only imagine what it looked like under the compress.

He recalled the night before, when the boy wasn't as peaceful; when fever struck; and exhaustion with pain came down hard on him, and he couldn't even lay down. It has been difficult to calm him, to tend to him; he had heard from Leon. The knight had helped Gaius at that time.

He couldn't imagine.

Instead he turned his gaze back to his face. He was breathing deep and steady, oblivious to the world around him. The prince looked at him long and thinking.

His servant; a bumbling fool; that would risk his life over and over for his master, without a second thought; so fiercely loyal. Arthur felt lucky to have this young mans trust and friendship. He could imagine how his father would disagree and be furious about his feelings, but he felt he didn't care anymore about the teachings that seemed to get proven more and more faulty as days passed. And his father wasn't in a state to lecture him anymore about such things anyway.

The life of the old kings were no doubt something to learn from and look up to; their noble deeds and actions; but not regarding to their servants. The young prince had learned how his subjects can be his friends. He no longer saw them as nameless tools whose sole purpose was to serve and be replaced once no longer capable to do so. He believed that knowledge will help him be a good king, he believed having friends instead of just subjects will help him even more.

He took notice of the figures rushing passed him in the hallway, stopping to bow then rushing to change the sheets; he noticed the stable boys, tending to their duties; making sure the horses were ready for riding out, should he or his knights decide to do so.

And he noticed his manservant as well. – Well, rather the lack of him.

He felt his absence, because even at one days' length, his chambers were showing just how much they missed the boy's touch. Piles of messy clothes; unmade bed; food trays left on the table. But the most he missed were the insolent remarks, and the goofy expression of his.

Arthur felt himself smile a little.

They were out of danger now, but the young man sometimes still felt tense and looking around to see if everything's alright; just to make sure it's safe.

All those days they have been captive; all those days they have been starved, beaten and cold; in trying to persuade him, and the whole time both Gwaine and Merlin encouraging him not to give up; not to give in, just how they didn't give in. They made him swear he won't give in.

He knew himself and Gwaine could last, he has been worried about Merlin though. But he was surprised how strong he had stayed.

Throughout his ordeal in the arena, not once he looked at Arthur, not once he begged.. But he was in pain and the prince knew very well.. he hated himself for not doing anything, for being so unable to snap out of it. He wanted to make it up to him. He promised himself he will make it up to him; somehow..

He clumsily leaned forward and brushed a few dark threads of hair to the side, then awkwardly caressing the unconscious man's head.

Merlin seemed not to notice.

Arthur felt his eyes sting once again. Withdrawing his hand he again just sat and stared in silence.

He was trying to calm himself, telling himself how everyone was safe now and how they all will get well. That he will deal with his guilt when the time comes, and that time was not now. Now he wanted to focus. He wanted to be there when his serv.. friend awakes..

Staring at the young mans face he then remembered something. Those flashes of gold glimmer.. He still wasn't sure if it was what he thought it was, or he just didn't see it well.

The thought formed that his manservant, the very clumsy yet loyal boy to be a sorcerer. It was a ridiculous yet threatening thought, but he felt too overwhelmed by the events of these passed days, he refused to let a thought like that surface and eat at him. It was probably the light, probably the adrenaline of the situation..

He would wonder about it, sometimes; he would let himself sink into it a bit and small bits and pieces of memories came to him; times when all seemed lost and then Merlin said everything is alright, or everything did turn out to be alright. Times when he lost consciousness and woke to being a hero; times when such incredible luck made branches fall and enemies tumble into swords. And Merlin's been always hiding during battles; always coming out relatively unharmed.

But.. if he was indeed a sorcerer, why didn't he free himself.. He could have just escaped and dealt with his tormentors; but he didn't.

Arthur was confused.

The pale servant didn't really look like a magic user. Not the kind Arthur had grown familiar with.

.*.

The physician stepped in setting his medicine bag down on the table, when he caught sight of the prince in his ward's room. He looked on surprised.

He saw the blonde leaning forward and with a hand he caressed Merlin's head. The old man couldn't help but smile a little. It made him happy to see that. Despite the constant bantering and complaining, he knew through time their destiny had made their bond a very strong one.

He felt angry as a guardian, but seeing the prince at the bedside of his ward slowly made him forget his grudge. After all, it wasn't Arthur's doing, and of what he heard from the young warlock, there was no other way. He knew, Arthur was suffering just as much to see him in such condition.

He slowly walked up to Merlin's room.

Arthur turned to him a bit startled, as if he's been caught trespassing, then straightened his back in his seat and looked at the bed's occupant again.

"I.." – and he had no idea what to say. Truth be told, he didn't even think about what he would say when he made his way to the physician's chamber.

"He will be alright, Sire." – the elderly man said with a reassuring tone. – "He's though the worse part of it." – Gaius continued and walked to the other side of the cot, sitting on the edge of it. Slowly lifted the corner of the compress on Merlin's back and peered under it. The prince couldn't see but he doubted it was a pretty sight.

The old man then leaned forward slightly and held his right hand against Merlin's forehead for a moment, checking for his fever.

"You should leave sire.." – the old man said. - "I will need to tend to his wounds."

"No." – Arthur said bluntly and earned himself a lifted eyebrow from the elderly man. - "I want to help.."

"Help?"

"Yes, anything you need help with."

"I need you to let me do my work and tend to him."

"You can't very well lift him on your own, if you want to bandage him." - Arthur was determined to bring up anything he could think of to prove his point.

"I understand, but Sir Leon was kind enough to offer his help earlier, I will manage."

"No! I'll help. Just tell me what needs to be done."

"Sire.."

"Gaius!"

The physician eyed the young man, a bit unsure, and then he came to understand what the man was feeling so he agreed with a nod.

"Alright."

The idle prince now had something to do and it kept him from sinking into his feelings of uselessness and guilt; the physician had no doubt he was battling with.

"I will need water." – he said and turned to walk out into the main room.

Arthur followed him after a moment hesitation. He was a bit surprised the old man actually let him stay, however he was the crown prince and soon-to-be-king after all.

.*.

Gaius slowly lifted the cloth off the boy's back to reveal what was under it. The gashes were a mix of dark red and greenish bubbling goo and puss, and it made Arthurs' stomach jump in repulsion, but apparently the old man has seen such before and enough of it to not even flinch, instead he was focused. His efforts were to remain at the thought that this is a patent needing his help now; and not the boy he cared so much about.

He took a piece of cloth and dipped it into the bowl of water he had prepared, making sure he squeezed the surplus of water out of it, he continued to wipe the greenish ooze off one of the wounds; to Arthur's surprise, it revealed a very clean cut, that wasn't bleeding, or oozing. It was just a large cut. Then the physician proceeded to thread a needle and sew the ragged skin together. Then he moved onto the next greenish spot. Cleaning it; and the next one and the next one; sewing it if it needed; slowly, carefully uncovering the unconscious young man's back, sometimes pressing the cloth to stop the blood that started to seep. Arthur was in charge of the water. He changed the bowl every time Gaius asked him to, handing it back to him with clean water and cloth.

Sometimes his mind would wander to horrid thoughts, other times he would just be focused on what the old man was doing. He would glimpse at Merlin, and note that the potion Gaius gave him probably was very strong, as he not once winced or moved; baring all that was being done without a sound.

"That's the last of them.." – the physician spoke, once he finished washing off the last cut.

He took a jar from the small table next to the bed taking the lid off of it. Arthur couldn't help but notice it had a very unpleasant odor.

"It doesn't smell too good, does it?" – the old man gave off a smile.

The prince shook his head, and continued to look at what he was doing. Gaius recalled that the plant this paste was made out of, were picked by Merlin himself. How ironic, for him to be the one to be used on. Taking a clean piece of cloth he rolled it up and started to gently dab the injuries with the yellowish paste.

Merlin took a sharp breath.

They both looked at the boy in a pause. Then Gaius turned back to applying the mixture on the wounds, while the boy would moan or wince every now and then. The potion was wearing off, and it made the old man hurry a bit. The prince was looking at his manservant, almost waiting for him to open his eyes, but he didn't; would wince and furrow his brows slightly, but remained as he lay.

"Now, I am going to need your help." – the physician said to the king, and Arthur understood what he needed to do.

They slowly turned the unconscious boy to his side, positioning his legs over the edge of the bed, then gently pulled him into a sitting position, and it was Arthur's job to hold him steady while Gaius wrapped layers of layers of bandages around his torso. Merlin's head bobbed every now and then as he was maneuvered, but he was showing more and more signs that he was to wake any minute now. Then it happened.

"Ow.. " – he said with a long ragged sigh.

Gaius stopped.

"Merlin..?"

The reply was a pained moan.

"Are you in pain?"

"yes… a lot.." – he hissed again and lifted his hand to rub his eyes, only then coming aware that he wasn't sitting on his own, he was being held to sit. Probably Leon. - he thought. He looked at the hand on his upper arm then traced it up to face the one it belonged to, then his eyes widened when he looked at his king.

"Arthur.."

The blonde man nodded. It felt way too awkward to say anything.

"I can sit now.. " – he said and the man slowly let his arms go, still ready to catch him if his statement proved to be untrue, but Merlin did manage to sit, though little wobbly.

"Bare with it a bit Merlin, I will get you something once I finish here." – Gaius said and continues to bandage him.

"I'll get it." – Arthur offered, and after some hesitation the old man told him to look for a red bottle on the table, so the prince left the small room.

"Are you hungry?" - he asked his ward.

"No.. just thirsty." - came a quiet, sleepy reply. - "What's.. that horrible smell?.." – the young warlock lifted his head.

"I'm afraid that will stick around for a while, as it's the paste on your wounds."

The reply to that was again just a groan and Merlin decided it's most comfortable and less energy consuming to just keep his head down. His back felt numb. He had a guess what Gaius used on his wounds, but the headache and occasional stinging feeling was bad enough; he felt the threads if he moved, so he tried to sit still. His arms felt weak and numb as well, his shoulders strength-less.

Arthur returned with the bottle, and how he probably overheard, brought along a cup of water.

"Thanks.." – the boy smiled as he grabbed the mug handed it to him, but his hands were shaking and seemed unable to hold the cup, it felt like it was weighing as much as a whole bucket. Arthur grabbed his hand before it could fall out of his clumsy grip, and helped the boy drink the content of it, then set the cup aside. Merlin didn't look at him, just nodded. He remained quiet after that.

Gaius soon finished bandaging him; gave his ward a mix of the red tonic and with Arthur's help, had him lie down again, this time on his side. The boy mumbled something that could have been a "thank you" and drifted off once again, the old man noting to himself again, to mind the dosage more carefully.

"He should be up and about in a few days." - the physician said closing the small room's door behind him.

"That's good." - Arthur smiled weakly. He felt a bit better, from being let to help.

.*.

"I'll clear this." – he grabbed a mug but his hands were shaking so violently he had to let it fall back onto the table with a clang. He let out a disappointed sigh. It's been three days. Gaius let him walk around, but his hands still felt weak, disobeying his mind. He found he was growing more and more frustrated with this.

"Merlin." – Arthur grabbed his arms, pulling him away from the table slightly. Gaius asked him to take it easy on the boy, and the young man had all intention to not let him work until he was fully recovered. Though the air and walks did him good, it was obvious something else was bothering him; and he was more clumsy then usual. Arthur wondered how to ask him, or rather just find out, because asking bluntly, never really got an answer out of Merlin. But then he answered without the question being posed.

"I feel so useless. Now more then ever.." – he mumbled under his breath.

"Well, you are most of the time" – the prince spat out, but now it wasn't the time to banter, and he quickly regretted his words.

"Look at me.." – he said more softly, holding onto the young mans arms, and he was a bit taken aback when he saw his servants eyes moist as he looked up at him.

"You are not useless, Merlin" – he said. "We've all been through a lot these passed days and we all need time to recover. You were very brave, and I'm.. proud. " – if someone would've told him a few years ago that he will be saying those words to the dark haired boy, he was chasing down the market at that time, the person surely would've spent a month in the stocks. Arthur swallowed. - "There's more to you then doing chores. I admit that now." – and it was Merlin's turn to look a bit confused. He furrowed his brows for a second, feeling there is more to his words then just what he heard. He nodded and looked down.

"Listen to me! I mean that!" – Arthur gave him a slight squeeze, still holding on to his arms.

Merlin looked up a bit wide eyed and nodded again.

"Thank you.." – he muttered.

Arthur showed something of a smile.

"I don't want you to do rash things until you are fully recovered. Understood?"

Nod again.

The prince let his servants arms go and looked at him with something that could have well been concern. He patted the boy's head and moved on to gather his scrolls for the meeting. Paper wasn't heavy. He decided to let Merlin carry those for him. The servant grimaced at his attempt to make him feel less useless; but he wore a smile once again.

.*.

Magic. In his castle..

If it was true..

He would have to deal with it and root it out… but..

But the hate that's been fused into his mind ever since he was a child didn't block out a slight curiosity. What if Merlin had magic?.. What if that gold glimmer he saw was really magic, and not just the reflection of candles. And all those small things that had happened and were 'weird' or just 'stroke of luck' had really been, all this time, just Merlin; just magic.

As the mood settled around the castle; Gwaine was let to walk around as well (most of the time just limping to his favorite taverns); Merlin followed Arthur around, the young blonde felt the tension settle around him, but he found himself fighting other thoughts. The sight of that golden glimmer kept coming around in his mind's eye and the more it did the more he wondered.

He glimpsed at the pale servant, now clumsily fiddling with his shirts, unaware of his kings turmoil.

What if.. What if Merlin had magic..

He lied to you.. – a little voice said in the back of his mind, sounding very much like his father's voice, that would cast sentence any minute.

He protected me with his life countless times.. – he talked back. A little uneasy, just like he would do whenever he had to stand up to his father, but he was sure of his truth.

He is a sorcerer! – the voice thundered. - He must be dealt with! He must be executed!

He is my friend.. – Arthur thought, becoming more and more convinced.

He could be just pretending.. – Uther's voice hissed.

Not after what he's been through.. – Arthur retorted, and wondered what other sacrifices Merlin had made throughout the years, that he was unaware of. So he shushed his father's paranoid and hateful voice in his mind, for he knew, a new age will require a new mindset, and hate and fear never gave good advises. He knew that all too well, knowing about all those killed, who knows how many innocent lives taken; how he saw his father being consumed by that fear and hatred, how he saw him break, and become a mere shadow of himself. He didn't want to walk down that same path.

He kept thinking, looking for anything that could serve as clues. That time with the dragon lord; Merlin was unusually emotional, almost like.. mourning.. Or that other time he stole his breakfast; (no, Arthur wasn't fat!); but he can't have been that hungry, not if he brought it with him to the dungeon where he was dragged off to by that headhunter. And once the monster has been defeated, he again had that deep sadness about him. Arthur wondered why even then, but then gave it a rest. However lately he thought about it again, more then once. It wasn't because of the water, he was sure of that; he had splashed Merlin several other times and the dark haired always took it as a joke. There had to be something in the background that he was unaware of; and sadly he acknowledged that he won't be finding out what that is, not unless Merlin decides to tell him, which was unlikely. However he was certain it had to do with magic.

Maybe.. maybe, magic was just magic. And people made it bad. If indeed Merlin had magic, it never sowed anything malicious, anything hateful. The boy always was by his side, many times pulling him to safety. If indeed magic was to corrupt a person, it wasn't true for Merlin.

And Arthur realized he was curious. All his life magic was hunted, but he never really understood. Perhaps he could now; perhaps he could learn. This could be an opportunity for him. And do it in the safety of a bond called friendship. He was sure Merlin wouldn't hurt him; he was certain he could explore and understand, if Merlin would show him.

"What?" - the boy asked uneasy, and the blonde noticed just then that he's been staring at his servant the whole time.

"Training field awaits, Merlin." - he said and turned to leave his chambers, his manservant reluctantly followed him, lagging behind. 'Training' was the last thing he needed, and he set it in his mind he will damn run away if he had to.

They strutted across the castle, towards to the grassy area, where some knights were already at it; facing each other, or practicing technique against a dummy.

"Are you really going to drag your feet all day?" - Arthur snapped, turning at the young warlock.

"No." - The boy smiled and stepped up to walk aside to him.

"Better." - the blonde said.

..

"Can you smell it, Merlin? That wonderful smell of strength, and the thrill of a fight." - he spoke again as they reached the first tent.

"Just.. don't hit me." - the servant replied, clearly unimpressed.

"Shut up."