A/N: Here is the last part, as promised! Remember, if any of you are interested in that Merlin role play on twitter, let me know!

Warning: some mean knights use some mean words, but nothing too bad.

Disclaimer: Surprisingly, I still don't own Merlin.

Arthur huffed impatiently and threw down his quill. Merlin was exceedingly late with his supper today. Although Merlin was nearly always late with every task, over the past few days he had been almost punctual. Arthur liked to pride himself in thinking it had been his cheering up with Merlin's "knighthood" that had made him become so proficient. After all, pride in one's work did tend to make on work harder.

Therefore, the fact that Merlin was not only late, but unusually late, was a bit concerning. Arthur tried to tell himself that he wasn't worried about his wayward servant, but after another half an hour passed with no sign of Merlin, Arthur could no longer deny his concern.

Horrible images of all the different types of trouble his clumsy servant could have gotten himself into dancing in his head, Arthur finally couldn't take it any longer and he strode out of his chambers in search of his friend.

The first place Arthur checked was the physician's chambers. He barged, quite loudly, into the room, never having been one for knocking, but found no Merlin in sight.

"Is there something I can help you with, sire?" asked Gaius calmly. He was so used to people, namely the king, bursting into his chambers at all hours of the day, the boisterous entrances hardly phased him anymore.

"Have you seen Merlin lately? The clot pole is unusually late with my supper today."

Gaius furrowed his eyebrows worriedly. "He left to retrieve your supper almost an hour ago, sire. That was the last time I saw him."

Arthur tried not to let his concern leak into his voice, but he was sure Gaius could read it all over hid face. "Alright, thank you, Gaius. I'll just… continue my search then." Arthur nodded and once the king had left, the old physician let out a loud sigh. Why did Merlin have to have trouble following him around closer than his own shadow?

~0~0~0~0~

Arthur decided to make his way down to the kitchens to see if Merlin had been through there. A small voice in his head (one that sounded oddly like his father) said that he shouldn't be going to this much trouble to find one servant who had gone astray. He could have anyone bring him his supper. But Arthur elected to ignore that voice because deep down, Arthur knew that Merlin was much more than a servant to him. He was a friend. More than a friend, actually. After everything they had been through, Merlin felt more like the little brother he never had then a friend. Not that the king was too keen on saying this out loud., however.

Pulling himself out of his thoughts, Arthur steeled himself for running out into the downpour. He needed to cross the courtyard in order to reach the entrance to the kitchens and that meant running out into the buckets of falling rainwater outside. When he found Merlin, he was going to kill him.

Arthur began his sprint out into the rain and about halfway through the courtyard, he stopped dead. A little ways off to his right was the very person he was looking for. All previous ill feelings toward his servant washed away as if by the pouring rain upon seeing his friend.

"Merlin!" Arthur shouted, but the call was drown out by the hammering of the rain (something Arthur was partially thankful for because the call had been a bit too excited for the king's liking).

Arthur closed the distance between himself and his manservant, but the closer he got, the more dread started settling in his stomach.

Why was Merlin out here, hunched over in a puddle, with rain coming down in sheets?

"Merlin, what-" but then Arthur froze. When he first saw Merlin, he has assumed that the shaking in the man's shoulders was due to the chill, but now that he was closer, he heard the quick, sharp intakes of breath and he realized that Merlin was crying.

Ignoring the large puddle he was landing in, Arthur dropped to his knees in front of his servant and put a light hand on his shoulder.

Merlin jumped slightly at the sudden contact, thinking for a moment that it was the knights back for more, but when he looked up to see it was Arthur's hand on his shoulder, the raven haired man didn't know whether to cry from relief or humiliation at being found. Merlin returned his gaze to the ruined neckerchief that he had gripped in both hands.

"I'm sorry, Arthur." he croaked out softly. Arthur, for his part, furrowed his eyebrows and followed Merlin's gaze down to the fabric in his hands. As soon as Arthur recognized the Camelot red of the cloth, a quick glance to Merlin's bare neck confirmed the king's suspicions. Although Arthur thought he already knew the answer, he asked firmly,

"Merlin, what happened? Who did this?"

Merlin let his head fall forward so it rested on Arthur's shoulder and he shook it back and forth. "I didn't- I should have…" he stuttered. "I'm sorry." the shivering servant repeated miserably.

Seeing that he was getting no answers out of the other man at the moment, Arthur gently pushed Merlin back, stood, and reached down to help Merlin up before he stopped as a sudden thought occurred to him.

"You're not hurt anywhere, are you?"

When the servant numbly shook his head, Arthur grabbed Merlin's hand and carefully pulled him to his feet.

"God, you're freezing," muttered Arthur under his breath as he wrapped an arm around the other man's shoulders, partially to keep him warm, and partially to keep Merlin's shaking frame upright.

The two men made their way quickly through the castle, leaving a trail of puddles behind them. When they finally reached Arthur's chambers, the king sat his servant in front of the warm fireplace before continuing over to his wardrobe, changing quickly into dry clothes. He grabbed another dry shirt and trousers, then made his way back to Merlin.

When he kneeled down next to the servant, he was pleased to see that, while he was still shaking, the trembling had lessened considerably. Arthur noted with concern, however, that a miserable expression was still etched into the younger man's face.

"Here, Merlin," Arthur held out the dry clothes. "put these on. You'll never get warm in you don't change out of your wet ones."

Merlin numbly reached out and took the clothes before standing and disappearing behind the changing screen.

A moment later, when Merlin stepped out wearing Arthur's dry clothing, the king had to stifle an amused laugh as his servant was practically swimming in his new attire.

Merlin arranged his wet clothes down in front of the fire to let them dry, but then he stayed there, just staring into the flames.

After a beat, Arthur come to sit next to his manservant, sparing him intermittent concerned glances as he too stared at the dancing fire.

"I don't deserve this." Merlin's voice broke the heavy silence as he held up the ruined, sopping red neckerchief that he had yet to put down. Arthur furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

"What are you talking about, Merlin? Is it something the knights said? Because if it is, then I'll tell you again that they're wrong." Merlin just shook his head, tearing his gaze away from the flames and down to the fabric in his hands.

"It's not what they said, it's just-" Merlin cut himself off, swallowing hard and trying to compose his errant thoughts before continuing. "they took it." he shook his hands to indicate the neckerchief. "and I couldn't stop them. I just fell for their tricks and acted like a fool." Merlin hung his head and spoke quietly. "A cowardly fool."

At this, the king became absolutely livid. The only person who was allowed to make Merlin look foolish was himself and himself alone. Any exception to this rule Arthur would not tolerate.

Trying his best to quell some of the fury in his voice, not wanting Merlin to think any of the anger was directed at him, Arthur turned to face his manservant.

"Merlin, as much as I sometimes say it, you are not a fool. Or a coward. Nothing could be farther from the truth." When the younger man still didn't look convinced, Arthur took a deep breath, pushing aside his pride as he knew Merlin would do for him, and confessed. "In fact, you, Merlin, are the bravest man I've ever met."

"But Arthur, I didn't-"

"No, Merlin! Just shut up and let me finish." Arthur interrupted firmly. "Throughout my years, I have met kings, knights, and noblemen from all walks of life and I can say, in complete honesty, that not one of them had a heart more courageous than yours."

Upon hearing this from Arthur, a great weight lifted in Merlin's chest. When he wasn't being a total prat, the young warlock did truly look up to Arthur much in the way a boy looks up to his older brother. It was something more realistic than hero worship, but to say Arthur's opinions were important to Merlin was a tragic understatement.

Although he did feel better due to Arthur's heartening words, Merlin still looked forlornly down at the cloth in his hands. "It's broken," the servant said matter of factly in a small voice.

Arthur sighed sadly and stood, walking over to where his torn cape still rested on the back of a chair. A few moments later, he returned and once again sat down across from his manservant.

Leaning forward, Arthur gently secured the newly torn triangle of red fabric around Merlin's neck.

"There," said Arthur in a quiet, satisfied voice. He then allowed his hands to rest on the younger man's shoulders, looking him directly in the eye, he asked him in a serious voice. "Better?"

A soft smile graced Merlin's features as he nodded, and then he and Arthur, who had moved to lean up against a chair, sitting shoulder to shoulder with Merlin, fell into a comfortable silence.

After a few minutes, Arthur felt a sudden weight on his shoulder and he looked down to see Merlin's head resting against him. Normally, Arthur wouldn't allow the raven haired man to use him as his own personal pillow, but when the servant looked so young, innocent, and so utterly exhausted, Arthur found he couldn't bring himself to deny Merlin much of anything.

The longer Arthur sat there with Merlin asleep on his shoulder, the more his thoughts started drifting towards the three knights who attacked his servant not once, but twice, and the angrier the king got. What right did those men think they had to lay a finger on Merlin? It was no secret to the people in the castle that the king was fiercely protective of his manservant (even if the king himself would deny it), so most didn't dare to inflict any form of harm on the young man. But when someone did…

'It looks like,' Arthur thought menacingly to himself. 'I'm going to have to remind those knights what happens to those who hurt Merlin.'

"Merlin," Arthur quietly called while softly shaking his shoulder in an attempt to rouse his dozing friend. Merlin, for his part, merely swatted at the king's hand in a rather sleepy and uncoordinated fashion and nuzzled his cheek further into the crook of Arthur's neck. The blonde rolled his eyes, not finding the action adorable in the least. (okay, maybe he did find it adorable, but there was no way he was going to admit that to anyone, not even himself.)

"Merlin," Arthur called again, but when he still got no response, the king sighed, muttering a soft "idiot" under his breath, and proceeded to scoop up the younger man, this motion finally eliciting a reaction out of Merlin.

"A'thur?" he muttered sleepily.

"Just go back to sleep, you clot pole." Arthur was glad Merlin was too out of it to hear the affection that had slipped into the older man's voice.

"'s my word." was the last thing the warlock slurred before dropping off into a deep sleep.

Arthur just smiled as he lowered the servant onto his own bed (not wanting to carry Merlin all the way to Gaius's chambers), gently tugged off Merlin's boots, and covered him up with the thick blanket.

The king was just about to turn away when a movement on the bed caught his eye. Merlin had brought a hand up to subconsciously grip the bit of cape that was tied around his neck and he sighed in contentment.

Arthur smiled at the action, happy to be the provider of a comfort in the younger man's life. Still smiling, he reached over and gently squeezed the nape of Merlin's neck in an affectionate manner before he turned around, set his shoulders, and walked determinably out of his chambers.

~0~0~0~0~

"Pass that thing over here, will you?"

Sir Darien snickered as he tossed the torn bit of fabric to Sir Hector, who caught it and began using it to polish his sword.

"Can you believe that servant today?" Hector put down his sword and stood, clasping the fabric, Merlin's original neckerchief, to his chest as he cried in an exaggerated, teasing, and rather poor imitation of Merlin, "'Give it back! Don't touch it!'" The two knights laughed meanly with their friend.

Sir Gavin, who was sharpening his sword at one end of the armory, spoke up in a slightly angry tone.

"I still don't think we were hard enough on the little whelp."

Hector shrugged and then smirked. "Well, maybe next time we'll have to-"

Hector was suddenly cut off as the armory door crashed open and someone burst in, pausing no more than a second before they charged at Sir Hector.

Sir Hector yelped when he suddenly found himself pinned up against the wall by none other than King Arthur himself.

"S-sire!" stammered Hector as the two other knights only stared at the scene in shock.

"Did you attack Merlin?" the king nearly shouted, anger rolling off of him in waves.

"My lord, I'm sure I don't know what-"

"Did. You. Attack. Merlin." with every word, Arthur gave the frightened knight in his grasp a rough shake.

Swallowing and risking a quick glance at his companions, Sir Hector's eyes darted back to the king and he answered in a shaking voice.

"No." As soon as the word was out of his mouth, the knight knew he had said the wrong thing because if the king looked angry before, he looked absolutely murderous now.

"Do you take me for a fool, Sir Hector? Do you think I would not recognize my manservant's neckerchief when the man wears the thing nearly every day?" When Hector looked at Arthur in confusion, the blonde fumed, "You are holding it in your hand, Sir knight."

Sir Hector tightened his hand and his stomach sank as he realized that what the king had said was true.

"S-sire, I can explain-"

"No!" Arthur threw the knight down so he was now sprawled out on the floor in front of his two still frozen companions. "Allow me to explain to you." Arthur stepped forward, staring each man in the eye. If looks could kill, the three knights would be dead ten times over.

"None of you had any right to treat Merlin the way you did. How dare you accuse someone of not being a knight when you yourselves are no better than common thugs in capes? Merlin is ten times the man any of you are and I will not have scum like yourselves insulting him." Arthur's voice became deadly serious and low. "If any of you even think about laying a single finger on Merlin, if you even look at him in the wrong way, I will not hesitate to banish all of you from Camelot on pain of death. Do. I. Make. Myself. Clear?"

The three knights bobbled their heads in a terrified nod and Arthur felt a wave of satisfaction at the nervous looks in their eyes.

"Good. Now get out of my sight." the three men scrambled up and sulked to the armory door, and just before they left, the king heard Sir Hector mumble under his breath in a quiet voice he thought the king wouldn't be able to hear.

"What's so special about that damn little bastard anyway?"

Arthur didn't even remember moving. The next thing he knew, he was grabbing Sir Hector by the shoulder, spinning him around, and pulling back his fist to do the one thing he had been aching to do ever since he saw the bruises on Merlin's neck some days ago.

His fist smashed into the knight's face, hitting his right in the middle of his face. Hector fell to the ground, holding a hand over his now bleeding and most likely broken nose. Arthur crouched down in front of him and said in a low, menacing voice,

"No one ever insults my manservant in front of me, got it?"

The fallen knight nodded quickly with a wince as Arthur reached over, grabbed the old neckerchief out of his hand, and, not waiting to be dismissed, Sir Hector darted out of the armory door.

After all the knight was gone, Arthur took a deep breath in an attempt to lower his temper. He shook out his hand, which was still slightly stinging. He had his Hector really hard. Arthur noted, however, that he felt no guilt about this. If he felt any remorse at all, it was because he wished he had hit the other two as well.

The king then looked down at the neckerchief in his hand. He wasn't quite sure why he had gotten such a strong urge to take it from the men, but something about the thought of an object so utterly… Merlin in the possession of those brutes set the king's teeth on edge.

Also, another part of him ('the prattish part' a voice that sounded suspiciously like Merlin said in his head) just wanted the thing for no other reason than to have it. It was like having a little piece of Merlin with him and it reassured him in the same strange way Merlin never failed to do when he was by Arthur's side.

So, with that thought in mind, Arthur wound the light blue neckerchief around his wrist several times before tying it off securely. He then pulled the sleeve of his shirt down over the impromptu bracelet and made his way back to his chambers.

When Arthur arrived back in his room, he had honestly forgotten the fact that Merlin was asleep in his bed. He briefly considered waking the man up and sending him back to his own room, but that thought was banished as quickly as it had come. Merlin was fast asleep by now and the poor man really had had a rough day. He wasn't about to allow the younger man to kick him out of his own bed, however.

"Come on, you idiot," the king mumbled as he shoved the sleeping servant over to one side of the bed. Once that job was finished, Arthur quickly slipped into his night clothes and climbed into bed beside Merlin. "You had better not speak of this to anyone." warned the blonde, even though he knew he would get no response out of the slumbering man.

After shifting into a comfortable position, Arthur touched the fabric around his wrist once more and turned slightly toward the younger man, whispering out a soft "Goodnight, my friend" before following Merlin into the land of dreams.

~0~0~0~0~

The next morning, Arthur awoke to the sight of Merlin bustling around his chambers, straightening various areas as he waited for the king to wake.

"Morning, Merlin," Arthur greeted, smiling in amusement when the servant jumped slightly at the sudden voice.

Spinning around to face Arthur, Merlin smiled. It was that wide, warm, boyish grin that was reserved solely for his master and Arthur could never resist smiling back.

"Ah, sire! Finally awake, I see."

"Brilliant observation, Merlin," Arthur mumbled good-naturedly as he sat up and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. "How long have you been awake?"

"Not long. I've just been waiting for you to drag your lazy self out of bed."

Arthur rolled his eyes at the jab and pulled himself out of bed. As he neared the table, he was disappointed to see a blatant lack of breakfast.

"Merlin," Arthur began sarcastically. "I know it may come to you as a surprise, but today I was planning on eating breakfast like I do every morning."

Merlin's smile fell and he shifted nervously, looking down at his feet as he anxiously fidgeted with his new neckerchief.

"Well, you see, sire, in order to get to the kitchens, I would need to cross through the courtyard, and the knights are currently training in the courtyard and I would rather avoid another… confrontation… so, I thought I'd wait until they were done to get your breakfast."

"Merlin," Arthur said seriously as understanding dawned on him. "you needn't worry about those men anymore. Last night after you fell asleep, I went and had a talk with them."

Merlin suddenly grew slightly pale as his eyes went wide. "You didn't kill them, did you?"

"Well…"

"Arthur!"

"I'm only joking, Merlin!" Arthur said with a laugh. "I just talked to them." Merlin raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "Well, more like threatened them." Merlin still just stared. " I may have also broken one's nose…"

"Arthur," the servant began in an exasperated tone. "that's still not-"

"Merlin, no one attacks you and gets away with it." Arthur said earnestly. "Not while I'm around."

The younger man smiled at his master, his eyes conveying his gratitude before he replied happily, "Well then, I'll just help you get dressed and then go fetch your breakfast from the kitchens."

Arthur nodded before he disappeared behind his changing screen as Merlin got clothes from his dresser.

When the king reached his hand out for Merlin to pass him his new clothes, the raven haired man began to deliver the garments before he paused and looked curiously at Arthur's wrist.

"What's that?"

"What's what?" the king asked, popping his head out from behind the screen. When he saw what Merlin was asking about, however, he hastily snatched his clothing from his servant's grasp and ducked back behind the screen.

"It's nothing."

"No, no, I know my neckerchief when I see it, Arthur. That was definitely my old neckerchief."

A moment later, Arthur emerged with his shirt sleeve covering his wrist. Merlin narrowed his eyes in suspicion, while Arthur tried to cover up his nervousness with annoyance.

"I have no idea what you're prattling on about, Merlin, but I would appreciate it if you just went to get my breakfast now."

"Oh, don't you play dumb- well, more dumb than usual- with me, you prat. Roll up your shirt sleeve, or I'll do it for you."

"Merlin, I am king. I don't have to take orders from y-"

That was as far as Arthur got before Merlin launched himself at king's arm, effectively tackling him to the ground.

"Merlin!" Arthur shouted as the two men began to struggle around on the floor. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"You will show me your wrist, dollop head!"

Merlin, who had Arthur pinned under him, suddenly was flipped off and barely rolled out of the way in time to avoid having Arthur land on top of him. When Merlin went to stand up, he felt a hand wrap around and heard a "No you don't!" from behind him and soon found himself on the ground once more.

The struggle continued for a few more minutes before Arthur, caught up in the heat of the moment, blindly reached out to grab his servant to tug him back onto the ground again. Not paying attention to where he grasped, the king accidentally caught Merlin by the back of his neckerchief and pulled.

Merlin let out a choked yelp as his hands flew up to his still sore neck and his knees buckled.

The second he realized what he had done, Arthur released Merlin as if he had been burned and immediately reached out to stop the man's decent.

"God, Merlin, I'm so sorry!" Arthur carefully lowered the younger man to the floor, but still kept a hand under his head as guilt welled up inside of him. "Are you alright?"

Merlin brought a hand up to gently massage his sore neck and cleared his throat with a wince before answering. "Yeah, I'm fine. Don't worry about it, it was just an accident."

Arthur sighed as he helped Merlin sit up. When the two men were sitting across from each other, Merlin slowly reached out and took Arthur's wrist, keeping eye contact with the king all the while. This time, Arthur didn't resist as Merlin gently rolled up his sleeve to expose the bit of cloth tied around his wrist.

"Why?" Merlin asked softly.

"Well, it's not like I was just going to let those men keep it like some trophy." Arthur said, hoping Merlin wouldn't push the fact that he was avoiding the real question.

"Arthur," the king sighed. He knew he wouldn't be that lucky. "I mean why is it tied around your wrist?"

"Because," Arthur wasn't really sure how to explain it. He decided with a heavy sigh that the most painless way would be the most direct, and he also felt he owed it to Merlin to tell the truth. "Because it reassures me. It reminds me that no matter what, there is at least on person I can always count on. One person who isn't afraid to call me a prat when I deserve it. Someone who is loyal and brave and always by my side." The more Arthur spoke, the tighter Merlin gripped his hand. "It also reminds me that I have to make good decisions because there is someone out there who looks up to me." Arthur looked up and met his friend's eyes. "It reminds me of you, Merlin. Can you understand that?"

Merlin reached up and gripped his Camelot red neckerchief tightly. "Yes, Arthur. I believe I can understand that perfectly."

A/N: Well that was incredibly long! Thank you all so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed it!