Arthur slumps against the wall, sliding his back down the stone until his butt hits the floor. He lets out a tired groan as he turns his head towards the grate where Merlin lives, catching a glimpse of the boy below reading as usual. He holds another book through the bars and its gently tugged from his grip, drifting down to where his friend sits without the boy so much as looking up. Merlin's really improved these past three years.
"Did your father work you too hard again?" he hears Merlin ask, having closed the book he was reading in favour of the new one.
Arthur just groans, slumping down even lower against the wall until his back is on the floor. "My arms are sore and my head hurts. Sir Galahad doesn't hold back even against a child," he complains.
"You said you wanted to be the best," Merlin reminds him as he starts flipping through the book, "it's expected that it'll be hard."
Arthur rolls over, turning onto his side. He peers through the bars, feeling that each time he looks the room seems to shrink, growing smaller and smaller. Trapping the boy in further. It's been a year now since he made his promise. A year and still he hasn't made any progress. He's searched the castle high and low, wandering into every room in the citadel even if his father had forbidden him from entering. Every nook and cranny has been throughly examined and yet there's not a single entrance to that room in sight. There have been numerous times where he's almost given up. But each time he heads back to the grate he finds his friend smiling at him and there he vows to get him out all over again. Today too. Today he vows that he'll find a way to save his friend.
"Merlin, you mentioned before that someone dropped off food and water for you every morning right?"
The warlock looks up, raising an eyebrow, "Yeah? And?"
"Is there anything else you can tell me?"
Merlin still seems confused but he answers anyways, "Well, I don't know much. I've honestly never seen them before. They just slip the food through this little panel opening on the door. They never say anything, never do anything else. Just drops off my meals. Though they do bring in new clothes for me. Once every half a year I think? They're never really nice clothes, but they're better than nothing." He lifts his arms up, showing the prince the rather uncomfortable looking tunic.
Arthur frowns, "I'll get you something, but are you sure there's nothing else? Not any other hints or..."
Merlin thinks for a moment, "Sorry, there's nothing."
Arthur sighs, slouching back against the wall. Well there goes his one lead. He was hoping he could get something more out of the boy. Something that would help him locate this mysterious caretaker, but of course it couldn't be that easy. If it were he would have found Merlin by now.
"Arthur?"
The prince rolls closer to the grate. "Did you need something?" he asks.
"What is this?" Merlin asks, walking closer to the grate and holding the book open to a page with the drawing of a butterfly.
Arthur squints, focusing his gaze on the drawing. "That? It's called a butterfly."
Merlin turns the book back around, staring with a look of awe at the critter on the page. "Butterfly? Is it food?"
Arthur laughs, "No you idiot. It's a bug. It flies around near the flowers. They usually come in all sorts of colours."
"Then why is it called a butterfly? What does it have to do with butter?"Merlin continues to ask, now turning the book upside down as though that would somehow help him answer the question.
"Because... because I don't know. They just are."
"I want to see one," Merlin suddenly says as he sets the book on the ground, "They look pretty."
The prince frowns, "I'm not catching one for you. The last time I caught a living creature you got mad at me."
Merlin chuckles, remembering the squirrel as he picks up another book from the stack beside him. "I'm not asking you to. Because I'm going to make one!" he exclaims proudly as he starts to flip through the book.
Arthur stares down at the boy in astonishment. "What do you mean?"
"There's a spell in one of the books you gave me that shows how to do it. I want to try. Can you tell me if it looks right?"
Arthur nods, then shuffles closer to the bars in hopes of getting a better look. Merlin smiles up at him, then, setting the spell book in his lap, reads off the incantation. His eyes glow gold and even now, having seen it almost everyday for three years, Arthur still finds himself captivated by those eyes. Finds himself staring for just a little too long each time.
Merlin frowns when nothing happens and so tries again. He cups his hands together, whispering the words once more and this time, when he unclasps his hands, there's a small critter in his palm. There's a wide grin on the warlock's face as he looks up at the prince, proud and happy as he releases the insect up into the sky. The butterfly flutters weakly up towards the grate, seeming to be unbalanced as it flies up towards the prince. Arthur holds out a finger, letting it land as he examines the insect. From far away it had looked somewhat like a butterfly, but now that he's up close he can see that it's almost nothing like the real thing. The wing shape looks crooked, hence the poor flying, and the colour is an ash grey. The creature looks sickly, and within a few seconds of landing it poofs away in a wisp of smoke.
"It was pretty good for a first attempt," Arthur reassures with a fake smile.
Merlin grumbles under his breath, able to detect the lie, then quickly turns his attention back on the book. He scans the words again before making another attempt. And another. And another. Each time the butterfly flutters up to the prince he finds it looking only slightly better than before. He tries his best to help, trying to describe an actual butterfly to him as best he can, but still the creature just never looks right.
"I'm sure you'll get it eventually," Arthur says, looking through the grate, "like you said, you just have to work hard."
Merlin puffs out his cheeks in frustration, arms crossed over his chest as he stares down at the book in his lap, not responding.
The prince frowns down at him, annoyed that Merlin's attention is being taken by something else. He looks around the dusty closet, finding a pillow he had brought once and throws it down at the boy, managing to hit him straight in the face. "Mer-lin!" he shouts, dragging out each syllable of the name, "pay attention to me!" He starts to kick his legs, acting like a child throwing a tantrum.
Merlin glares at him as he hugs the pillow to his chest, clearly even more annoyed now than before. "Don't your subjects already give you enough attention?"
Arthur frowns with his arms crossed over his chest. "They aren't the same. I want your attention!" The second the words are out of his mouth Arthur regrets them. He blushes a bright red and quickly buries his head in his hands, trying to hide his fluster.
"Why do you want my attention?" Merlin asks, the teasing tone gone from his voice as its replaced with genuine curiosity.
Arthur peeks through his fingers, face growing even redder as he mumbles, "because... it's fun to talk to you. And I'm always sad when I'm not with you."
The prince risks a glance through the grate and manages to catch the boy blushing a little now with a goofy smile on his face as though he had just heard the best thing in the world. With a smile himself Arthur starts to wonder how he can recreate that smile again tomorrow.
-----
Arthur glances around excitedly, swivelling his head in every direction as he stares in amazement at the bustling town around him. Everything seems like a whole new world. The tavern, the inn, the market, even something as simple as the stables, makes the young prince giddy with excitement. He's never been to Mercia before and based off the things his father had told him he always assumed it was a poor kingdom, but as he stares at all the people that pass and the buildings that line the sides of the path its clear now that his father was wrong.
Despite his inner joy he keeps the excitement to himself, not daring to show his eagerness to explore while his father is riding only a short distance in front of him. He's supposed to act like an adult. Like the Prince of Camelot, not some child. He keeps his back straight as his horse follows behind that of his father's and the King of Mercia. He needs to look regal. This is his first official visit to a neighbouring kingdom after all. He needs to be on his best behaviour.
It's not until the next day that the prince is allowed to head out, with one of the knights of course, into the town to explore. He's practically jumping with energy the entire time, dashing all about whenever something catches his eye, asking all sorts of questions to the locals. It's not that he truly cares about the kingdom or that he's curious about its history. It's just that he wants to find something interesting to tell Merlin when he goes back home.
"Sire," the knight, Sir Leon, says, "should we not head back now? Your father said to be back before dinner."
"I know, I know," Arthur says, still looking around, "I'll go back soon. I just want to go see one more place."
Leon sighs, but nods. "Alright, but after this we have to go back."
Arthur grins and hurries off rather happy that Sir Leon is the guard his father assigned him. He knows the knight well as they're close in age, though Leon is older, and they often train together during practise. At least they did before Leon became a knight a few weeks ago. Now he's usually too busy. But still he's happy to be able to explore the town with the knight as he is one of the few people he would consider his friend.
Arthur stops by the market, staring at the numerous stalls in wonder as he wanders between the rows. A few of the shopkeepers who aren't already busy with guests send him warm smiles, trying to wave him over with offers of fine goods and other wares. He brushes most aside, not finding anything of interest, though he admits there are a few that he can't help but walk over and examine.
"We should get going now sire," Leon says, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, "You're father is waiting."
Arthur frowns, giving one last scan of the place before sighing. There really is nothing here. he turns, about to leave when something catches his eye. He stops, dashing over to the store and stopping in front of the stall. The man at the store smiles at him kindly, apparently noticing the eagerness in the boy's eyes. "Did you see something you like?" The merchant asks, gesturing down at the cloths on the table.
Arthur's eyes trail towards a bright, red cloth on the table. He picks at the fabric, feeling it between his fingers. It's soft and comfortable, something that even he wouldn't mind wearing. The vibrant red would match well with Merlin.
"You interested lad?" the merchant asks with a smirk.
Arthur grins back then picks up the cloth, "How much?"
-----
Arthur whistles happily to himself as he makes his way through the foreign castle, excited now for the trip home. He peers at the package in his hand, feeling that sense of pride he always gets when he finds something wonderful to give to the warlock. He sees Leon give him a strange look as they walk down the corridor, but he pays him no mind. Let the man think what he wants.
"Arthur!" Gwen calls, rushing over the second she spots him. "There you are! I've been searching all over for you!" she says quickly.
"I'm sorry, Gwen," Leon says apologetically, "I tried to bring him as fast as I can."
Gwen sends the knight a forgiving smile, "It's not your fault. Arthur's just too slow. Are you trying to get me into trouble?"
Arthur just shrugs as he keeps walking, "Why would you get in trouble? You're not my caretaker."
Gwen sighs, pushing at his back to hurry him along. "I am during this trip. Mary couldn't make it."
Honestly, he's rather relived to hear that his usual nursemaid couldn't make it. That women's shrill voice is something he does not want to hear everyday. Some much needed distance is rather refreshing. But still he can't help but wonder why. "How come?" he asks, confused.
"She has other duties in the castle besides taking care of you. Now hurry up. We have to get going."
Gwen is quick to usher him into his room, ordering him to change before leaving to help Morgana with her dress. The prince quickly hides the cloth in one of his satchels before throwing on the clothes his father had prepared for him the previous day.
The dinner itself is nice enough. The food tastes great and he didn't need to do much aside from answering simple questions while nodding his head and smiling. His father does most of the talking and he's content with just sitting aside and eating when the pair of kings enter another topic.
"Well, I must say you have a wonderful son Pendragon," Lord Bayard says with a sip of his goblet.
"Of course, only the best can be the heir to the throne of Camelot." Uther replies with a smile.
"Indeed, and a wonderful prince deserves a wonderful wife."
Arthur almost drops his spoon at the words. He looks up, staring at the king in astonishment. Those words are hardly subtle and he's not that big of an idiot to not realize what the other king is implying. His eyes drift over to Lord Bayard's daughter, a blonde girl only a little younger than him. She catches his stare and gives a rather uncomfortable smile.
-----
"So Prince Arthur," the girl, who he recently learned was named Evelyn, says as she leans closer to him, "I hear you're almost a knight? It must be difficult."
Arthur slowly inches away knowing full well what both their father's are hoping for. Why does he need to think about marriage already? He's only fourteen! He has plenty of time to look for a queen.
'Or king' A part of him thinks as he stares at the girl in front of him. Another king sounds like a better idea.
"Um, yeah," Arthur replies, trying to convey his disinterest, "It's quite difficult."
Evelyn looks a little unsure, but moves in closer, batting her lashes at him in hopes of winning him over. All Arthur can wonder though is whether or not she's got something stuck in her eyes. "Have you explored the town yet? I can show you around," she says, now clinging onto his arm.
This time Arthur gets to his feet, turning to walk away. "It's alright. I've already seen it."
The princess sighs, clearly tired of it all, but still she gets up anyways, following after him as she continues to ask him questions. Arthur though ignores most of them, hoping that his clear disinterest will eventually reach their father's ears and they'll both give up. But of course nothing is ever so simple. For the rest of the week she continues to pester him, following him around much to both of their annoyances. Though the prince has to admit she's a nice girl. Whenever they aren't under the scrutinizing stares of their father's she's a delight to talk to, especially compared to Morgana.
The night before their departure Evelyn appears at his door, looking down a little awkwardly as she waits for him to let her in. He sighs, tired and weary but knows he'll get an ear full from his father if he leaves her out in the hall. So, reluctantly, he holds the door open for her and invites her in.
She sits quietly on a chair, not saying a word as they stare across the table at one another. It takes another five minutes before she speaks. "I'm sorry," she says, looking down shyly, "father ordered me to come here."
Arthur expected as much, knowing how desperately both his own father and King Bayard would love to have them marry. "It's alright. I know what father's can be like."
They soon fall back into silence with no sound other than the soft crackle of the flame in the fire pit. After another few minutes of uncomfortable silence Evelyn decides to engage in some small talk. "Um..." she starts, "I heard from the Lady Morgana that you have someone you're already in love with. This must be hard for you."
Arthur immediately tenses at the words. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat with a slight scowl on his face. "I don't. She's just saying whatever pleases her."
The princess raises an eyebrow, apparently not believing his words. "You don't? I highly doubt it."
Arthur glares at her stubbornly. "It's the truth, whether you believe it or not."
The girl giggles then leans forward on her seat expectantly, "Well then, let's say that you don't have anyone in mind. What would you look for in a person?"
"Uh... I don't know. Someone nice?"
Evelyn seems displeased with the answer. She purses her lips, "There has to be something. Here, I'll ask a question and you answer the first thing that comes to your head. Alright? Now, what hair colour?"
"Something dark."
"Eye colour?"
"Blue."
"Personality?"
"Cheerful and able to make me smile."
"Name?"
"Merl-" He catches himself, clamping his hands over his mouth as he quickly looks away. Why did Merlin's name come out? Now that he thinks about it, why did Merlin appear in his mind when he thinks of his ideal person? He flushes red with embarrassment, hoping that Evelyn hadn't heard anything.
Unfortunately for the prince, she does. An amused smile crosses her face as she leans over the table. "I didn't catch that. What was the name? Mer- something?"
Arthur blushes even brighter and turns his back to the princess. Never mind what he thought before. She's just like Morgana. He keeps his mouth shut, not wanting to answer, but that only prompts the princess to become even more curious. She gets to her feet, walking over to his chair and standing right in front of him. "Come on, who is it? Who are you thinking of? I won't tell."
Arthur looks down at the floor shyly before muttering, "Merlin. His name is Merlin."
Evelyn grins then seats herself back down on her chair, looking proud. "And you said you aren't in love."
-----
Arthur stares through the grate, keeping as quiet as possible as he peers past the bars. The room is relatively dark, the candles having been snuffed out for the night. There was still one lit though, one right beside the sleeping warlock's head.
The prince stares at the dozing figure, seeing the boy's chest rise and fall as he leans against the wall underneath the grate. He must have fallen asleep waiting for him to return from his trip. Merlin seems so at peace. So ethereal in the soft candle light. Arthur feels the itch to drop down into the cell himself. To drop down and curl up beside Merlin and hold him until the night is over. But of course that can't happen. Not yet at least.
Arthur sits down by the grate, leaning his head against the wall with the red cloth on his lap. He's not in the mood to return to his room. Not tonight. Tonight, he wants to stay here. Stay with Merlin. He turns his head, his eyes seeking out the boy on their own accord as he whispers with a smile.
"I love you."