Summary
Merthur. Merlin and Arthur acclimate to the changes between them. Uther, however, has had enough.
Part 1
Uther was out to get him.
Arthur had warned him, that last morning before they returned to Camelot, Gwaine a new, interesting presence by their side (the man traveled literally from tavern to tavern! Who lived like that?), that Uther had sent out Arthur's own men to get to Merlin. He couldn't believe it. Only their loyalty to Arthur stayed their hands. Not in time to save one of them, but in time to save the rest, and to spare Arthur's heart more pain.
And somewhere during Merlin and Arthur returning to Camelot and Merlin being put on bed rest with the excuse of having been injured "by certain parties," Arthur had said in his clipped report to Uther, who had grimaced in a way that showed off more anger than shame, everyone in Camelot became aware of a change in relationship between Merlin and Arthur.
Suddenly everyone was asking him to bring up their problems to the prince, "since he had his ear." Merlin didn't, of course; Arthur was busy enough. But what he could do to help, he did, running around grabbing medicine for one woman's ailing niece and helping another man find lodging in the now-abandoned smithy. Forrest had, rather unsurprisingly, been put to death. Merlin was only thankful that only half the reason had been because of the man's magic, and the other half had been because he'd consorted to kill Arthur and Uther.
But while his popularity had inexplicably shot up in the town, it had plummeted in the castle. The guards looked on him with such suspicion that it was obvious they knew, though Arthur assured him they had no evidence, and he'd worked to dispel the 'rumors' of Merlin's magic. Merlin had nodded and smiled and, a couple of days later, told Arthur that he'd been right, that the guards were leaving him alone. It had been a gross lie, but it had made Arthur feel slightly better, and there wasn't anything the prince could do, anyway.
It had only been a matter of time, after all, Merlin reasoned. And apparently their fights the first couple of weeks had been, in Uther's eyes, Arthur's attempt to break free from Merlin's hold. Perhaps that was why Uther had sent Arthur's knights out – to help. But it had failed, and now Merlin supposedly had Arthur under his control again, and Uther meant to save his son. It was well enough, Merlin supposed. At least Uther wanted to protect Arthur. But it meant the king had no more reason to hide Merlin's secret. Not now that he was actively trying to get rid of him.
And he was. It wasn't just with Gaius anymore, though Gaius kept Merlin appraised now of every time the king went to him. Sometimes it was rants, other times dire warnings to not be in league with Merlin. And sometimes, rarely, it was plans. Uther would consider how best to get rid of Merlin. He had promised his son to not hurt Merlin, apparently, but Uther had found loopholes to that plan. He could have others kill Merlin, or hint at a reward if someone did it. He could send Merlin into dangerous situations, or simply send out a bounty for Merlin's head and wait for Arthur to go on another patrol. He could have Merlin taken somewhere far away, into another kingdom – but that would have to be a controlled situation, Gaius repeated, because if it didn't work, then Uther wanted a way to get his hands back on Merlin. Just in case Arthur still showed signs of being enchanted.
Merlin didn't go anywhere anymore without Gwaine next to him.
It wasn't a chore, however. Gwaine was labeled a servant, but it was for convenience's sake only. Arthur called him a spy. Merlin had no idea what Uther called him. Possibly 'aggravation,' 'meddler,' or something far less politic. In any case, Gwaine was with him whenever he stepped out of the castle, whenever he had to run to grab herbs for Gaius, whenever a group of guards glared at him a little too hard. And Gwaine did it all with a grin, one that, when Merlin pointed out how nearly bloodthirsty it was, Gwaine himself labeled 'shit-eating.' Merlin didn't know if that was Gwaine insulting himself or insulting those he had to deal with, but it was just the right level of rude and daredevil that seemed to suit the look, and Merlin had adopted the phrase without qualm.
