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“That’s it,” Uther demanded. “Arthur, I demand that you sack your pathetic excuse of a servant.”
Arthur’s eyes went cold. “How dare you! No one talks about Merlin like that but me.”
“I will talk about him however I wish,” Uther exclaimed. “You dare try tell me how to act. Do not forget that I am your king.”
“I don’t care!” Arthur practically roared. “Merlin is my servant, and—” his voice wavered slightly— “my friend. I will never forgive you for this.”
“He is a bad influence,” Uther insisted, his gaze sliding to where Merlin stood petrified, watching their encounter. “You let him act more than a servant to you.”
“That’s because he is,” Arthur said flatly. “He’s my friend. And you will not force me to sack him.”
“I will do as I wish. Boy,” he called to Merlin, “your days of serving my son are over. You may remain with Gaius in his quarters, but you are not to interact with Prince Arthur in any way.
Since then, life had been entirely miserable.
Pure, absolute misery.
Arthur rarely left his bedchambers and stopped training altogether.
“Arthur!” Uther demanded, knocking loudly on his door. “You will get back to work this instant.”
“I will not,” Arthur retorted through the door. “Not without Merlin.”
“He’s just a servant,” Uther remarked. “Not even, anymore. He has no significance.”
Arthur’s fists could be heard slamming against the wall, and he stopped responding after that.
“I will have my guards tear down your doors,” Uther warned.
Still, no response.
Even after managing to get him out of his chambers, there was no luck getting him to do hardly anything.
Arthur roamed the halls aimlessly, stopped talking, and headed to bed early. He refused to eat with Uther and often did not eat at all.
(“I will not eat if it’s not Merlin serving the food.”)
It was bizarre, really. When had he become so dependent on his servant?
He would die soon if he didn’t get Merlin back.
He would die without consuming food or water.
And he was horrendously out of practice.
“Please,” Uther practically begged, in a low moment. “I need you to be yourself again.”
“I can’t be myself without Merlin,” Arthur responded coldly.
Finally, Uther supposed that he had no choice but to go to Gaius to seek help.
“I don’t suppose I know what to do,” he confessed. “Arthur is acting like a fool. Hardly able to function. And when he is, he is cold and full of rage.”
“I assume it’s because of Merlin,” Gaius guessed. “You might have been too hasty in your decision.”
It was clear from the look on his face that he was being much more polite than he wished to be.
Uther waved a hand. “Just state the truth, Gaius.”
“You are an idiot,” Gaius remarked. “Taking away the one close friend your son has. Mind you, he is well more than old enough to pick his own friends.”
During other circumstances, the words would have filled the king with rage, but now he was desperate.
“It’s all my fault!” Uther lamented.
“I’m afraid that’s true,” Gaius admitted. “It would have been wise to seek counsel before committing such drastic actions.”
Uther frowned. “I suppose that I did not understand how dear the attachment Arthur has for his servant.”
“Merlin,” Gaius corrected softly.
Uther sent him a chilling glare. “Excuse me?”
“I apologize, my lord, but you keep on referring to Merlin as the servant. He is much more than that.”
Uther took a deep breath. “Very well. I will take your advice on that since my lack of doing such in recent events is what brought this upon us.”
“Merlin,” he called sharply, causing him to jump and break from his daze.
“I’m sorry, sire,” he hurried to apologize.
Uther gave the slightest of headshakes. “No, I am sorry.” Merlin’s eyes widened, but he didn’t say a word. “Follow me, boy— er, Merlin.”
Merlin dipped his head in a nod and followed Uther. The silence was deafening as they walked through the halls.
Merlin knew these halls. They led the way to Arthur’s chambers.
He tried not to let his hopes get up, but it was hard.
Uther Pendragon had just apologized to him. Honestly, did his reinstating Merlin as Arthur’s manservant seem that far-fetched in the scheme of things?
They stopped abruptly at Arthur’s door.
“Go on, knock,” Uther prodded.
Without another word, Merlin rapped on the door.
“Go away!” Arthur shouted, his voice muffled with what must have been a blanket.
“It’s me,” Merlin called back.
There were the scrambling sounds of Arthur hurrying to the door, then he swung it open, smacking it into Merlin’s face.
“Ouch!” Merlin exclaimed.
“Oh, get over it,” Arthur said, rolling his eyes.
Uther noticed the joy lighting his eyes at the sheer prospect of seeing Merlin.
“You may have your servant back,” he muttered.
Merlin and Arthur shared a glance before they just about ran to each other, Arthur nearly knocking Merlin over with his huge hug.
“You don’t like hugs,” Merlin whispered, his arms tightening around Arthur.
“I don’t care,” Arthur said, his voice dignified and aloof, but there was an undertone of overwhelmedness. “It is my business whether or not I feel like a hug, and right now I will, so as my servant, it is your job to oblige me.”
“You can’t force me to give you a hug,” Merlin commented.
“Theoretically, I could,” Arthur insisted. “I could have you in the dungeons for not following my orders. Regardless, you would never say no to a hug from me.”
“I wouldn’t,” Merlin agreed with a grin.
Arthur pulled back and wiped his hands on his clothes as if he hadn’t been the one to initiate the embrace.
“You must never breathe a word of this to anyone,” Arthur warned.
Satisfied that he had fixed Arthur’s lack-of-Merlin-ness, albeit after causing it, Uther left them to return to his own chambers.