In His Place

Words: 2,582
Characters: Merlin, Arthur, Gwaine, OMC
Warnings: A bit of violence and probably like, I dunno, two swear words? Three? -shrug-
Summary: Merlin is challenged about his place in Camelot and among his friends, by a knight who is anything but.
A/N: Today I discovered just how awesome my English teacher is. Not only does she know and love Merlin, but she thinks it would be, and I quote, "a perfect" idea to use for my creative writing piece in my HSC exam. We're supposed to have a concept ready to write about on belonging. And so that is how this oneshot came to be, on Merlin and how he belongs. You'll find it's a rather cliche idea in Merlin fic, but not, I hope, in an English exam. So I suppose this shall be dedicated to my teacher :D

"Merlin!"

Merlin turned around with a start where Arthur was glaring at him, his hands on his hips awkwardly around the heavy armour.

"Yes sire?" he asked with obvious disinterest.

"I've been trying to get your attention for the last five minutes! What on earth were you thinking about?" his friend paused and tilted his head to the side slightly. Mockingly. "Or are you really just that daft in the head?"

Merlin rolled his eyes. "I just zoned out. Don't worry about it."

The two were standing in the middle of the training fields where Arthur had been dedicating his energy for most of the morning. Since becoming king he never got quite as much time to work on his fighting skills as he would have liked, with so many other responsibilities suddenly on his plate. The sun was strong in the sky, making Merlin grateful, not for the first time, that he was not a knight. To have to train in this hot weather would surely be the death of him.

And people said being a servant didn't have its advantages.

"Yes, well, I can understand how hard it must be for you to keep focus, but I would appreciate you trying to listen."

"You'd be losing concentration too if you had to listen to such an annoying voice. What did you want?"

The question brought a smile to Arthur's face, one that Merlin recognised and did not like. Pointing a gauntlet-laden hand towards a battered shield and helmet on the ground, he said "your turn."

Merlin groaned and immediately took back everything he had just thought about being lucky to be a servant. "You realise we have dummies for this kind of thing, don't you?"

Arthur's smile widened. "Yes. And I'd like mine to pick up his shield now."

Merlin dragged his feet to where the old metal lay without another word, though his face remained sullen. Despite Arthur's previous amusement, the royal frowned. He had expected a good deal more bickering and complaining than this. Merlin was getting scarily close to obedient, and that was always a sign that something was wrong. "Just what were you thinking about to make you lose your senses for a full five minutes anyway?"

"Nothing," Merlin muttered, slipping the helmet on and immediately feeling his head heat up under the sun. In truth, he'd gotten distracted by nothing more than a bad feeling creeping up the back of his neck. He had the strangest feeling of being watched. He hoped it was nothing more.

Arthur narrowed his eyes and Merlin shook his head. He knew Arthur would just laugh and didn't feel much like making it easier for him. Clumsily picking up the shield and holding it in front of him, he said "What's the matter? Worried a prat like you can't take on one lowly servant?"

It worked; Arthur was well and truly distracted now. He immediately dropped into a fighting stance, and gave his friend one more rather evil grin.

Merlin rested a hand on his lower back and twisted his head back and forth, trying to work the soreness out of his now aching muscles.

"Arthur going just as hard on you as ever, I see," said Gwaine with a grin, walking into the armoury and placing his sword down. His shaggy hair was slicked back slightly with sweat, a testament of how hard all of the knights had worked.

"He enjoys it way too much," groaned Merlin. Gwaine laughed and gave him a light punch on the arm - lighter than usual, Merlin did not fail to notice. He was going easy on him.

"You'll be right after a night's rest. I'm sure Gaius can make you some concoction or another to ease the pain of your weary bones."

"If only he had something to cure Arthur of his prat-ness."

Gwaine laughed again and made to leave through the door that lead into the castle, calling behind his back "mate, there's nothing that could cure him of that."

Merlin smiled, watching his friend go. But he was suddenly distracted by that same tingle of unease creeping up on him once more. He turned around quickly, taking in the cramped space of the armoury for signs of anyone else being there. No one. What..?

Merlin's head snapped back to the door, the one that opened onto the fields. It was swinging closed with a light creak. That was… odd.

The feeling continued to follow Merlin around the next few days as he continued on with his duties and chores. He was beginning to feel sufficiently paranoid, having to stop himself from glancing behind him at every turn. Something just felt wrong. He was getting bad vibes from somewhere, and it was starting to fray his nerves.

It wasn't until a full week after he had first gotten the feeling that the source presented itself. He had been on his way to wake Arthur up, a tray of breakfast in his hands and a ready joke about the king's weight in his mind when he found himself knocked over, the plate clattering to the floor. Looking up, Merlin was confronted with Sir Adhelm, one of the older and burlier of the knights. He towered over the servant, his shoulders squared, and was obviously not at all concerned about bowling Merlin over.

"My apologies, Sir," Merlin muttered, remembering his manners as he reached out to pick up a bit of wayward sausage.

A small yell of surprise escaped him when suddenly his reaching hand was crushed under the weight of a solid boot. Merlin looked up angrily at the knight who had a small smirk on his face. "Finally on the floor where you belong, hey servant?"

"Sir, if you could please - " Adhelm dug his heel in and Merlin winced, hissing in pain.

"Were you talking to me, servant?" the man asked mockingly. Merlin's eyes narrowed but he was unsure how to react. Arthur and his friends among the knights of the round table aside, he knew the natural pecking order as well as anyone. A noble or knight always had rank above a commoner, and there were those who used and abused that power as they saw fit. For one lower than them to show the same disrespect back was simply unacceptable.

But Merlin thought of the first day he had met Arthur, seeing him then as just another stuck up noble, and of how he had stood up to him all the same. He didn't see any reason that should change now.

"Get off me," he growled as his fingers went red with lack of circulation. Whatever tongue-lashing he had been expecting in response did not prepare him for being knocked back with a kick to the head. Merlin found himself suddenly sprawled out a few metres back from his original position. His hands dug into the cold stone of the castle floor as he tried to regain his bearings, squinting his eyes as flaring pain shot through his head. As he looked back up to Sir Adhelm, the world began to spin alarmingly.

All amusement had gone from the older man's face. Sir Adhelm was getting close to retirement, but he was fit for his age. He was strong, tall and bloody imposing. And now he looked completely pissed. "You will not address me in such a way!" the man bellowed. "You will show me respect!"

Merlin's eyes began to water and he worried he may have a concussion, but still he attempted to stand. He swayed heavily as he rose but remained firm in his resolve. As things blurred slightly, he could only hope he had directed his glare in the right direction. "I only show respect to those who deserve it," he stated calmly.

Sir Adhelm growled angrily and advanced, shooting one burly arm out. He pinned Merlin against the wall by the throat, holding on tightly but not yet enough to be dangerous. Merlin stifled a cry as his already sore head was slammed against the stone. "I am a knight! A noble! You are nothing but a lowly peasant! Who out of us do you think deserves the respect?" His hand began to close around Merlin's throat, cutting the boy off before he could answer. "I have seen the way you act around the King, the other knights! I have been watching you, servant! You think you are equal to them? You think you belong with them?" Adhelm laughed cruelly. "Learn your place! Stop insulting all of us by thinking you may mingle with our kind. You are nothing like us!" His fingers tightened steadily as he spoke and Merlin's own hands came up to grapple against the grip. His magic buzzed and bubbled under the surface, waiting to be released, to fling Sir Ass-helm across the corridor. Merlin's slowly muddling brain tried to weigh up his options, tried to figure out if he could risk defending himself so. Adhelm would not fail to scream sorcerer unless he was harmed worse than Merlin intended and if that happened… neither option felt acceptable. But what choice did he have? As his vision began to dim and his lungs screamed for air, Merlin began to think it might be the only way…

And suddenly the pressure was gone, Adhelm was gone, and Merlin was on the ground gasping for air. One hand went to his throat and he winced at the quickly-forming bruises. His stomach turned rebelliously, the pain in his head having reached new levels. But still he looked up, blinking his eyes to try to clear his vision and see what had caused the abrupt release.

Adhelm was up against the opposite wall as Merlin had been only moments before, looking terrified. At his throat was a sword held steady, and holding onto that sword…

"Arthur," he croaked, relief flooding through him.

"You alright, Merlin?" Arthur asked, not taking his eyes off of the trembling knight in front of him. Merlin nodded, knowing full well the king could not see him, but finding himself unable to answer. Arthur seemed to get the message anyway. "Care to explain yourself Sir Adhelm?" he asked.

"Sire," the man said quickly "I was simply trying to teach the servant some manners, you see - "

"By killing him?!" Arthur interrupted, his voice brimming with anger. "Oh yes, well done, that would have gotten the message across." Adhelm simply watched his king nervously, his mouth shutting with an audible snap. "Please keep in mind, Sir Adhelm, that Merlin is my manservant, and will therefore receive discipline from me. Unless you do not trust me to take care of my own problems?" the question was a challenge.

One that the knight was not willing to meet. "No, sire, of course not - "

"Good." said Arthur coldly. "Let's keep it that way, hmm?" Adhelm nodded nervously and Arthur slowly drew the sword away from his throat. "Off you go then."

Adhelm immediately backed away, only turning when he was no longer in reach of Arthur's sword, and began to walk as quickly as he could. "And Sir Adhelm?" The knight looked back with real, genuine fear in his eyes, and Merlin could not help but be pleased to see it there. "If I find you in any way harming my servant again, there will be dire consequences." Adhelm nodded again and rushed away, the threat hanging over him like a cloud. Only once he had turned the corner did Arthur turn to Merlin, who was still on the floor. "Of all the idiotic things…" he muttered, walking over to him and reaching under Merlin's arms to haul him into a standing position. Merlin immediately began to tip and Arthur's hands shot back out to grab a steadying hold of him. "You had to go and piss off a knight, didn't you?"

Merlin didn't answer and avoided his master's eyes. Much as he didn't want to admit it, Sir Adhelm's words were ringing in his ears. Perhaps it was just the lack of oxygen and now definite concussion getting to him, but Merlin suddenly felt much less certain about his various friendships in Camelot. He had never really thought about it before now, but all of his closest friends were far above him in rank. Even Guinevere, who had bonded with him as a serving woman to the Lady Morgana, was now Queen. How had this not crossed his mind before?

"...Merlin. Oi, Merlin! Open those ridiculously big ears of yours, will you?" Merlin realised his master was trying to get his attention. He turned his head in the direction of the voice but continued to avoid looking him in the eyes. He told himself it was just because he was dizzy. "Are you listening Merlin?" He nodded his head slightly and regretted it immediately as another wave of nausea hit him. He heard a sigh. "I heard what he said, Merlin. Not all of it, but… enough." Merlin tried not to cringe at the admission. He was vaguely aware that his feet were moving, and he was still leaning heavily on the royal. But that couldn't be right, could it? A noble wasn't supposed to carry his servant was he? Merlin brought one shaky hand up to his head; he was beginning to feel confused.

"Where're we goin'?" he slurred.

"Gaius' obviously," huffed Arthur. "And don't change the subject." Merlin wasn't aware he had been. Everything was fuzzy. "I'm trying to tell you something important here, Merlin. I'd appreciate it if you payed attention."

"Sorry, sire," he murmured, his voice scratching against his sore throat.

"No, don't - don't apologise. Not now," Arthur sighed. "Look, just… tell me that ass didn't get to you." When he was given no answer, Arthur continued. "For all your faults and moments of idiocy, Merlin, I would have thought by now it was clear even to you that…" there was a brief hesitation. "of course you are our equal. Maybe not in rank, officially, but…"

Merlin was now focusing hard, despite his bleary thoughts. Was Arthur actually… complimenting him?

"Look, all I'm saying is people like Adhelm are wrong. We - I - appreciate… you. What you do for us. Who you are to us. I wouldn't change how things are, and I wouldn't… I wouldn't change how we are." A small smile danced across Merlin's lips; he knew how much it must be paining his master - his friend - to say such things. The smile fell as he realised he must look worse off than he had thought. "So just… don't go getting all quiet on me, will you? Merlin? You still with me?"

It took a small shake on Arthur's part for him to zone in again and realise Arthur was expecting an answer. He forced himself to finally look up at his master, his king, his friend, who let out a breath of relief. "Why wouldn't you answer me?" he asked, sounding more like his annoyed self.

"I t'ld you…" Merlin slurred, "c'n nev'r conc'ntrate 'n your voice. Is too.. boring."

And with that, he passed out.

If you have any ideas/prompts for me to add to this collection of fics, please do not be afraid to let me know. Would love to help bring them to life.