"I won't be much longer," Merlin shouted back as he proceeded to wash his face with the cold water from the bucket and changed his clothes quickly.

He fastened the lace on the upper front of his shirt before putting his neckerchief on, making sure it covered everything up to the base of his neck. Merlin sighed, fingering the fabric of his neckerchief, knowing what it hid.

Merlin couldn't remember when he woke up to find the inscription 'two sides' inked on his sternum, but his mother told him his Soulpoetry emerged when he was two years old– at least five years faster than any other ordinary children. The morning sun ray penetrated through the window and fell on his cheeks and Merlin smiled weakly– now he was hiding his Soulpoetry not because it was inappropriate to let one's Soulpoetry show, like any other ordinary people, but more because it was a stark-naked reference to his magic.

He secretly wondered when and how he would be meeting his so-called Soulmate, the person who would complete his Soulpoetry, now that he was in Camelot, the very root of the war against magic.

:

Arthur stood by his window, opening it widely to let the breeze in.

It was quite hot today, with the summer solstice nearing and almost no clouds in the sky. He had just been off from a very boring council meeting, something about renewing a peace treaty between Camelot and a few neighboring kingdoms that Arthur hadn't really listened to, but mostly he was just very grateful he got the chance to spend the day away from the glaring summer sun.

Leaning against the wall beside him, Arthur quietly slid off his rings from his four fingers, each covering a scrawl which together said 'of the same coin' in black ink. He had been wearing rings on these fingers day and night ever since Gaius taught him that it was not appropriate for someone to let their Soulpoetry show. The rings were thin enough that it didn't bother him to wear gloves and gauntlets with his four rings on and were made from a special metal alloy that didn't itch when he sweat, the royal jeweler made sure of that, but on hot days like these Arthur would just sometimes wished his Soulpoetry had emerged on another part of his body.

He gently took off his rings and cleaned them with his sleeves, letting the cool breeze freely flow in between his fingers.

"Of the same coin," Arthur found himself scoffing silently as he glanced at his hand. Of course it was the same coin. Same life, same fate, same responsibility.

Normally Arthur would feel quite happy to revisit the phrase after he had his swordsman training and had the people praising how he must have inherited his skills from his father. He was his father's son, that was the very essence of his existence. But on times like these –when he was once again reminded that he would have to lead Camelot one day and make decisions concerning law and order and basically every other dull things Arthur didn't care– he felt like his Soulpoetry was mocking him.

A distant footstep was heard closing in to Arthur's chamber, followed by a loud thud of books hitting the floor.

Putting his rings back, Arthur rolled his eyes. Of course Merlin couldn't even bring a couple of books and scrolls from the royal library without dropping any of them.

"Did you get the books from Sir Geoffrey?" Arthur called out.

There was no answer until Merlin's figure appeared on the door, his hands holding a pile of books stacked high enough he had to use his chin to prevent the scrolls on the top of the pile to drop. Arthur's jaw drop as his annoyed frown deepened.

"I got them," Merlin panted.

"I told you to bring some books on the past treaties of Camelot!" Arthur shouted.

"These are the books," Merlin mumbled, his chin holding the books from toppling over, prompting Arthur to sigh with defeat. He supposed Camelot had made a lot of treaties with a lot of kingdoms in the past few years.

Arthur groaned and turned back to stand by the window, enjoying the breeze. "Put them on the table."

He heard a shuffle of feet as Merlin moved to put the books on the table. A sound of the scrolls rolling to the floor followed, prompting Arthur to snap, "careful!"

"Sorry!" Merlin replied, already scrambling on the floor to retrieve the scrolls. Arthur sighed, not even able to be properly angry with his stupid manservant now with the temperature frying them like this.

"Get the other window there opened, will you?" he said, gesturing at the other window by the side of his bed. "It's so hot today! How can you bear the heat with your ridiculous neckerchief like that?"

Arthur wasn't looking when Merlin quickly reached up to fix his neckerchief, almost fearful it was showing any skin.

:

A/N: I'M SORRY I DIDN'T UPDATE *CRIES* I originally posted this fanfiction in FanFiction.Net, you can find the link in my profile, but the formatting in Wattpad is a bit different in my computer and with uni and all, I simply couldn't find the time to do it :( I'm really sorry, I'm such a bad writer :(

Aalso aaahh I knooowww, Merlin didn't wear his neckerchief all the time, *cries in frustration because why can't I ever work out a real plot* but for the sake of the story let's just imagine he does, lol. Alright, that concludes the end of chapter two! I'm still trying to follow the canon as much as possible here so I put Arthur's past of raiding a Druid camp from A Herald of the New Age and this is still in season 1, so I imagine he will still be more or less a prat. Also huge thank you for those who reviewed, faved, and followed! I didn't know people will actually read this in Wattpad *sends virtual hugs*

Stay tune for chapter 3, there will be some Soulpoetries revelation!

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