Archive of Our Own ^beta

Lancelot smiled, almost apologetic. And then he-

"Besides!" Merlin rushed to speak over the incantation Lancelot was reciting, in the middle of a hallway. "Even if I helped, that's all it was! I couldn't have defeated the griffin myself. You were the one with enough bravery, strength, and skill to strike a true blow. This was your accomplishment." Merlin protested because he didn't want Lancelot to leave, even if he had discovered Merlin's magic. A stupid part of him said especially if he had- it was dangerous, but it would be nice to be known, wouldn't it? By someone other then Gauis or the dragon?

Lancelot shook his head, lowering his voice below a whisper. "To do what you did, my friend, must've taken more bravery then I could imagine. Surely a fair deal of skill, too."

"Maybe." Merlin shrugged, not sure he agreed with the assessment. He started to pace towards a staircase he was sure would be empty, this late at night. Lancelot didn't hesitate to follow a suspected sorcerer into an empty, semi-enclosed area, which was a good sign. "But you still did it. The blacksmith that made your lance, are you going to insist he take equal credit for his contribution, too?"

"He- he didn't go into battle with me. He's already been paid, for his part." Lancelot defended.

"Gringolet, then." Merlin pushed, smirking. If Lancelot trusted him, if he hadn't already turned Merlin into the king, then they would be fine. Now he just needed to stay. "She helped. Would you have your brave and noble steed knighted, too?"

"That isn't the same, and you know it!" Lancelot blushed, running an annoyed hand through his hair. "You- you aren't a horse."

Merlin couldn't help but snicker. "Really? Arthur always says I'm an ass. That's kind of the same thing."

"Exactly." Lancelot snapped his fingers, instead of laughing, even though Merlin was very funny. "Doesn't that bother you? We just saved his life, and you'd be happy to see me knighted while you went back to lugging around armour?"

"More then! Are you kidding me? If Arthur tried to knight me, I'd dump ants in his wardrobe." Merlin pulled a face at the absurdity of the thought. Lancelot looked unsure. Merlin took a step closer, and sighed. "It would be nice to be thanked." He admitted, readily. "But, Lancelot, that can't happen for me, and you leaving won't change that."

"That's not right." Lancelot sneered, with unexpected aggression. Even when he faced down the griffin, he did it with blank determination. "You deserve better!"

Merlin shrugged again. "Well, you leaving certainly won't be better." Merlin almost pleaded, then paused. He realized how selfish he was being, trying to get Lancelot to stay and keep a secret that would risk his life, because of Merlin. He rushed to reassure the man, "Not that you have to stay. You'd more then pay me back just by not telling anyone, we don't, we don't even have to talk, but you deserve better too, Lancelot. You're a good man, and you'll be a great knight. If that's still what you want."

"You must be as ridiculous as you've called me, if you think I'd snub you after all you've done." Lancelot shook his head. Merlin smiled despite himself. "I'm not keen on abandoning you or Prince Arthur, truly. It's just...." Lancelot trailed off, grasping for a reason. "I don't want to cause conflict within the royal family."

Merlin rolled his eyes. "It's worth it- you're worth it. Besides, it's good for them. Good for Arthur, to stand for what he cares about. He'll be a great king one day. Good for Uther, so he doesn't go completely mad with power." He said, as neutrally as he could. He impressed himself, honestly. "It's even good for Morgana- between you me and the stairs, I think she just likes arguing. Well- she likes being right. Which she usually is, though don't tell Arthur I said that."

The other man finally laughed. It took three whole jokes- maybe Merlin's wit was getting rusty. Arthur's wasn't the sharpest whetstone. Just another good reason to keep Lancelot around.

"I'm....still not sure I've proven myself worthy of the knights." Lancelot admitted, looking at Merlin with a surprisingly nervous smile. "But you've more then proven yourself worthy of appreciation, and it seems I might be the only one able to grant it. For now."

"Sir Alynor tried to come to training drunk last week, and Sir Osric stumbles over his footwork almost as often as I would. If you aren't worthy of their lot, then I'm the queen of Mercia."

Lancelot laughed again, and let Merlin lead him away from the throne room towards the kitchens. Nilda, bless her soul, shooed them out with a wink, and a few minutes later kicked over a basket of leftovers from lunch. She must still be grateful for the headache remedies he semi-regularly 'stole' from Gaius she wouldn't have been able to afford by herself. Care for minor ails wasn't free for peasants, after all.

(Gaius hated letting people go untreated for anything, but couldn't be caught wasting resources like that outside of the nobility; it wasn't his fault, however, if Merlin had a habit of giving extra remedies away just before they went bad, instead of disposing of them just after.)

Merlin politely ignores the sound of Lancelot's stomach growling, and kindly reaches a hand out to stop the man from eating in the hall. From what Merlin could gather, it was some sort of faux pas for nobility to eat outside of designated places and times. One time, Merlin had offered Arthur a snack while on a long ride for patrol, and Arthur looked at him like he'd suggested wearing a pair of Morgana's pinchy shoes. Merlin didn't care about stupid noble manners like that, of course, and he doubted Lancelot did either, but he'd probably have to at least pretend to as a knight.

Which meant Merlin got to snack as they walked, and Lancelot waved away his completely reasonable explanation and accused him of trying to finish all the sweetmeats before Lancelot got the chance to have any.

Merlin licked his fingers, and neither confirmed nor denied the accusation.

(He did leave a few sweetmeats for his friend, though. They were the ones that Braste had made, and Merlin wasn't cruel.)

--

Lancelot fell asleep, because he had a very long day. Merlin wished he could too, but the sun had well and truly set, and he had barely attended to Arthur since they returned. It was hard to convince himself to get up, fully expecting Arthur to be cranky. The stress of the griffin had gotten to him this week, and it had ended with him nearly losing good men, not to mention if kitchen rumors were to be believed.....

Merlin preemptively dragged the bath upstairs, and eagerly paid Kaillum and Kalf a copper piece each to fetch buckets of water, which were waiting by the door when he got there. Good boys, those- part of the handful of staff's kids old enough to be let around the castle but too young for anyone to bother sticking in one job. They just trailed after their mum and helped her, and sometimes took extra chores for a bit of change.

Arthur was stomping around his room hard enough that the guards could hear, and he could swear one gave him a sympathetic look. Merlin sighed and shoved the door open, lugging the bath with him. By the time he got all the buckets into the room, Arthur had gone eerily still, staring at him.

"Where the hell have you been all day!" Arthur demanded, building up to a full blown scolding. Merlin shrugged, going to gather the buckets by the door.

"Helping Lancelot recover." Arthur made an almost-concerned noise, and Merlin rushed to reassure- "The griffin didn't hurt him. He caught me when I fell off a horse, and hunting magical beasts is hard work. He just needs a day or two of rest."

"You should have told me." Arthur gritted through his teeth. Merlin placed six buckets by the fire, and poured three into the bath. Heating the kings bath was a delicate process- at least, as long as he was in the room when it happened.

"When I went to update you in the throne room I heard shouting." He said, which wasn't true, but he had heard other people say as much, and he more then believed it. He closed the door behind him as he got the last bucket into the room, then placed four around the fire and poured the other two into the bath. "What was that all about?" He tries not to sound eager when he asks. He would've asked anyway, but was extra invested for Lancelot's sake.

"I don't know how many times I have to tell you that royal matters are not your concern."

"At least twice more, and without dragging me into one of your royal messes within the same fortnight." Merlin offered. It was a perfectly reasonable offer, and also one he was sure Arthur would never meet the standards of. "Besides, aren't I technically part of the royal household?" Merlin pointed out, just to see if Arthur would correct him. He honestly still wasn't sure what that was supposed to mean, except he didn't have to really listen to anyone except Arthur, Morgana, and Gaius (and the King, of course).

"I didn't ask for a bath." Arthur pointed out, instead of responding. Merlin sighed, stretching out by the fire. He had to watch to make sure the water didn't boil, right? He might as well lay down.

"You have had a hell of a week, and an even worse day." Merlin yawned. "And I have too, by the way. I figured I'd save myself the extra trip down the stairs. If it's all the same to you, my lord." He barely remembers to tack on, swallowing another yawn.

"I'm surprised you can stretch out like a cat without coughing up all the dust you leave on my chamber floors." Arthur bit out, but didn't actually tell him to get up. Merlin smiled, and enjoyed a few minutes of rare peace.

Arthur was surprisingly subdued for the rest of the night. Merlin didn't mind the silence as much as he usually did- he swept while the prince was in the bath, and hes eyes watered with another yawn (not with dust, of course not!) as he waited to be dismissed.

"I expect to see you in the morning. On time." Arthur demanded. Merlin rolled his eyes and turned to leave, but Arthur had one more request. "Bring Lancelot with you in the morning, actually. I must speak with him."

Merlin froze, back still facing the prince. He heard the dissatisfaction ring in Arthur's tone, and connected the dots before he could stop himself. "He won't be given his knighthood back."

"It's-" Arthur made an angry noise. "I will speak with him. Just make sure-"

"He saved your sorry life!" Merlin turned, "And half a dozen knights, and whatever poor tosser would've happened upon the beast next! You'd really-"

"Merlin." Arthur said, voice low and warning. Merlin shut his mouth, but glared at Arthur. The prince met his gaze evenly. "Tomorrow morning, you'll bring Lancelot. And some extra breakfast, while you're at it." Merlin opened his mouth to push again, and Arthur raised his voice just enough to quell argument- even from Merlin. "You're dismissed."

"...Sleep well, my lord." Merlin huffed. He fully intended to hash this out with Arthur, but it was late. If Arthur insisted they fight over Lancelot in front of the man himself, then they would burn that bridge when they got there.

He waited until Arthur closed his eyes and started to fall asleep, before leaving and slamming the door behind him. Imagining Arthur's enraged expression gave him enough satisfaction to fall asleep instead of laying in his bed and muttering strings of threats no one would ever hear.

(No one except Lancelot, sleeping on the floor at his own chivalrous insistence. Idiot. Why did he keep making friends with such idiots!)

--

Merlin woke Lancelot far more gently then he'd dare try to wake Arthur, and is pleased to find it quite easy. Some rousing words, a few taps to the cheek, and Lancelot's eyes are already open. He all but jumps to his feet when he hears Arthur has summoned him for a private breakfast. Even with the last minute request for extra food, Lancelot keeps Merlin from getting distracted or dragging his feet, and they make it to Arthur's chambers in record time. Merlin doesn't think he's ever been early to work before. It's weird, sitting at the table with Lance, sounds of a sleeping prince in the next room, and watched the sky slowly come to life. Merlin warns Lancelot that he didn't get the impression that Arthur had good news. Lancelot nodded, clearly disappointed but not angry. Not even all that shocked. That's fine. Merlin can be enraged enough for them both, if it came to it.

It was still about a candle-mark too early to wake the prince, but Merlin suddenly didn't care to wait anymore. He stomped over and yanked silken blankets from the bed.

"Rise and shine, Arthur!" He chirped, tugging the prince's now-cold hands out from where they sought refuge under his pillow. Merlin held both of Arthur's wrist in one hand, and deftly plucked the pillow from under his head and darted back several paces as the prince sleepily lunged, using his lifetime of training to not stumble and fall on his ass.

"Merlin," He grumbled, doubtlessly trying to wake up enough to string an insult together. Merlin didn't give him the chance, cautiously staying by the doorway to the sitting room.

"Arthur. You have a guest, remember? Even I know it's bad manners to ignore a guest!"

The man opened his eyes, squinting at Merlin instead of chasing him. It takes him several seconds to get the gears turning in his brain, and he sighs. "Right. Lancelot. Help me dress."

"Breakfast might get cold." Merlin lied, because he never let Arthur's breakfast get cold unless he was especially cross. It had only been a few months, but the small acts of care were already something Merlin took great private delight in doing.

"Not if you're quick." Arthur huffed. Merlin smirked.

"Breakfast will get cold, then." Merlin smirked, drawing a mocking laugh from Arthur. He pulled a more casual outfit together for the day- there wasn't much princely business going on today- and, despite their conclusion, Merlin gets Arthur dressed at a reasonable speed. He really only started taking longer when there were clasps and buckles and knots for his clumsy finger to fret over.

When they enter the main room, Lancelot is stoking the hearth. He must've lit it, too.

"Lancelot, don't bother yourself with chores. Merlin has to make himself useful somehow." Arthur sighed, waving Lancelot over to the table, and then again when Lancelot hesitated to sit at his left hand.

"Thank you for your help, Lancelot. That was kind of you." Merlin stressed, because Arthur could be such a prat. Arthur rolled his eyes and started to pick off the plate.

"You're welcome, Merlin." Lancelot nodded, almost smiling, before he turned back to Arthur. "You wished to speak to me, sire?"

"I did." Arthur nodded. "And to share a meal, so help yourself." Lancelot hesitantly reached out and grabbed a roll of bread and small slice of cheese. Merlin grabbed the pitcher of water and poured them both a cup, swatting Lancelot's hand away when he tries to pour for himself. They eat in silence for a moment, waiting for Arthur to wake all the way up. Or at least, that's what Merlin and Arthur are waiting for; Lancelot seems oblivious to the prince's groggy manner. Even when Merlin managed to steal a bushel of grapes without Arthur batting an eye.

Eventually, everything Arthur had initially loaded onto his plate was gone, and his eyes were properly aware. He cleared his throat and sat up straighter.

"Sire?" Lancelot sat straighter, too. Maybe he had noticed, and was just being polite. Merlin wouldn't know much about that. He stood behind Arthur so he could eat his pilfered grapes in peace.

"I wanted to thank you. The virtue and nobility you exhibited yesterday is truly something to aspire to. You risked a great deal to save men that had scorned you, and in doing so saved many lives."

"It...was an honor to assist you, sire. Especially after I....thought I had squandered my chances to do so." Lancelot shifted nervously. Merlin wished he could offer the man something a bit stronger than water, to ease his nerves.

Arthur's hands tightened on the cutlery. He could probably do with a stronger drink, too. If only it wasn't morning.

"I also wanted to apologize to you, Lancelot." Arthur admitted.

Lancelot froze. Merlin gave a dramatic gasp, hiding the remaining grapes in his jacket just before Arthur turned to glare at him.

"Apologize? Surely, I must be dreaming." Merlin widened his eyes dramatically, looking around. Arthur threw a goblet at him, striking his shoulder hard enough to hurt but not hard enough to bruise (probably). Lancelot looked worried, like he wasn't sure if he should do something. Merlin laughed, walking off to pick the goblet up before he forgot about it.

Arthur scowled and opened his mouth to insult Merlin, before suddenly remembering his company and what he was doing. He turned back to Lancelot, shaking his head. "Sorry about him, he came like that. Did you know Merlin also saved my life, once?"

"....Is that so." Lancelot didn't quite manage to ask, staring intently at Merlin with what Arthur would probably interpret as disbelief, but Merlin assumed was much closer to worry and uncertainty. Maybe fear.

"He may not look like much, but he's fast when he really wants to be. Pushed me out of my seat just before a dagger struck through the wooden chair. The king rewarded him with a position in the royal household."

"The Royal Sock Cleaner and Tamer of the Crown Prince's Horrid Bed Head. Honor above honors." Merlin griped, though his smile probably betrayed his sincerity. Thankfully, Arthur didn't look- he stayed focus on Lancelot.

"It really is, and you'd do well to remember it more often." Arthur muttered, because he simply couldn't help himself, before continuing. "I'm apologizing, because my father is very strict about The Knight's Code. He was unwilling to make an exception." He admitted, sounding almost as disappointed as Merlin felt. It was the only reason Merlin didn't try to interfere and argue, as he had been intending to do ever since last night.

"I understand." Lancelot nodded before looking away. "I- I accept your apology, of course, and thank you for advocating for me. It means a great deal."

"It's the least I could do." Arthur insists, clearing his throat. "I don't only bring bad news, though. You have been issued a full pardon, including of course a retraction of your banishment. And I want to offer you a position as my personal royal guard. My father agreed you deserved at least that much."

"Personal guard?" Lancelot asked, cautiously pleased but confused. Arthur nodded.

"It's a position that's been out of effect since I was knighted. Yesterday proposed that it wouldn't hurt to refill the vacancy, given the recent aggression against the crown. My life has been seriously threatened and targeted more in recent months then in years before that. I'd like to have you watching my back, if you'd take the position?"

"I- I don't know what to say." Lancelot stared. Merlin cleared his throat pointedly, and Lancelot shook his head to stop himself from getting lost in thought. "Besides yes. Eagerly. When do I start?"

Arthur's shoulders lost some tension, and he reached out to take a drink from a cup that was no longer in front of him. Lancelot picked at another piece of cheese. "Merlin said that you were still recuperating from your fight with the griffin; I'd have you start overmorrow, if all is well. You'll meet with the head guard and take at least one shift each morning and one each night watching my doors, as well as during public meals. You'd accompany me at my request when I leave the castle without my knights, though I hope to have you on for some quests if at all possible. I'd also like you to attend training with the knights, whenever you're comfortable doing so."

"Sire?" Lancelot asked, because those last responsibilities sounded an awful lot like requests. Arthur pursed his lips. He reached for some bread, drumming his fingers in the place his goblet usually sat, and Merlin found it apparent that Arthur was stalling.

"My father insists upon The Knight's Code." Arthur repeats, surprisingly close to a sigh. He's surely still frustrated from yesterday's row. "It has served Camelot well thus far, and ensures that our most elite fighters are already firm in their loyalty to the crown, and that military leaders have a noble education. I respect his caution against the precedent set by making an exception." Arthur drums his fingers on the table, and waits until Lancelot catches his eye to continue again. "I respect it, but I'm not sure I agree. One day, I think I might take a closer look at amending the code. I hope to still have your support, should such a day come."

Lancelot swallows heavily. Merlin suspects his eyes may be watering. "You're- You really mean that?"

"I do." Arthur nodded. "I make no promises about whatever conclusion I might come to, but you've given me more then good reason to reconsider the code. I will need to ensure that the code my knights swear by runs parallel to my own values and vision for the kingdom."

Lancelot's breathe hitched. "Excuse me, sire." He apologized, quickly wiping his eyes before looking at Arthur with....Intensity. Something deeply respectful, almost reverent. The way one would look at a beloved king. Merlin wondered, a little embarrassed, if he looked at Arthur like that. Surely he'd know if he did- the prat would never let him live it down.

"Not at all." Arthur assured, though he shot Merlin a nervous look at the appearance of Lancelot's tears. "You've every right to be upset. I wish there was more I could do."

Merlin laughed. Arthur gave him a scandalized look, as if he thought Merlin was laughing at Lancelot, until the other man joined in.

Then Arthur just looked confused. Idiot.

"I'm far Upset, your highness, and you've- you've done far more then I could've expected." Lancelot explained, coughing into his hand to stop laughing. Another tear leaked down his cheek, but he didn't even seem to notice. He looked at Arthur and beamed. "It is my lifelong ambition, to become a knight of Camelot. A chance, even far in the future, is well worth waiting for, and I swear to prove myself worthy of it. I couldn''t thank you enough."

Arthur relaxed under the bright force of Lancelot's smile, and his returning one was less formal and more good natured. "You can thank me by keeping your word."

Merlin glowed with pride, fingertips tingling with the tangible feeling of the future, of the king his ass of a master would one day be, in those rare moments that he almost believes the mad dragon's claims of prophecy.

(Then he scowled, and realized that he probably didn't look like Lancelot when he let his devotion to Arthur leak.

In all likelihood, he looked worse.)