The week passed quickly for some, but very slowly for Merlin. At last, finally, he was free.

He hadn't seen Gaius, Arthur, Morgana or Gwen since the Prince was released. He looked forward to being able to see them again now that this whole thing was over and they could all go back to how they were before it. He hoped that Arthur would be able to forgive his father, for both their sakes. He hoped that Uther would have enough humility to apologise to his son. But most of all he hoped that nothing like this would ever happen again.

Exhausted from a week in the stocks, Merlin stumbled into Gaius' chambers. It was midnight and he tried to be quiet so as not to wake his mentor; Gaius could be awfully grumpy when he didn't have enough sleep.

Even standing seemed like too much effort, and Merlin wasted no time washing and changing into clean clothes before flopping down on his own bed. He could deal with the rest of his chaotic life in the morning. Tonight, this bed, this room, was all he needed, and, for the first time since Arthur's arrest, he fell into a deep, untroubled sleep.

-

"Merlin! Merlin!" Gaius' face spun above Merlin's half-open eyes. "Wake up!"

Groaning, Merlin sat up and looked around. His wrists were bandaged where they had been rubbed raw by chains. He smiled. It felt good to be back in his own room. The sun was streaming in through the window, the sky was clear, he'd actually slept and-

"Oh no..." How had he forgotten? "I'm late!"

Gaius nodded approvingly, seemingly relieved that Merlin was healthy and that he actually had enough common sense to realise why Gaius had woken him for once. He smiled to himself. Merlin really was very late: it was nearly midday and the physician was glad that it wasn't him who was going to have to face a very angry Prince.

There was a knock on the door. Or maybe not.

"Gaius!" Arthur's voice floated through the wood, followed by more insistent knocking. Eventually the Prince gave up on having the door opened for him and swung it open. "Have you seen my idiotic excuse for a servant?"

The physician fiddled self-consciously with the sleeve of his robe. It wasn't really Merlin's fault that he had overslept; he had been forced to stay outside all night for the past week. Arthur looked at him expectantly. "Well?"

"He- um... I really don't know where he could be Sire."

"He's in the tavern isn't he?" The prince raised his eyebrows. He was about to turn and limp away when Merlin's voice made him spin back around.

"He is not!"

Gaius looked guilty. "Ah, look Sire, there he is..." his voice trailed off at the sarcastic look on Arthur's face as he spoke. "So, Gaius! While you were busy really not knowing where he was, you didn't think to check in his room? Either that or... you were lying to me."

Gaius avoided the Prince's gaze and busied himself organising the various stacks of books on his table with a quick: "Lie? Of course not, Sire." Deciding it was for the best to let Merlin handle the situation, he tried to keep out of the way.

"No matter where he was, he is still in a lot of trouble." Arthur glared accusingly at Merlin. "Where were you? You better have a good excuse for this, Merlin."

"Well, apart from having had no sleep for a week, being pelted with vegetables and freezing, not to mention starving and thirsty, not really, I'm afraid." Merlin suddenly seemed to realise who he was speaking to. "Sire."

Growling under his breath, Arthur limped from the physician's chamber, a guilty-looking Merlin trailing behind.

— — —

Uther glanced up at the door of the throne room. Here he had sat, deep in thought, for many days, often even staying deep into the night. Still no sign of Arthur. His son did not even acknowledge him in the few council meetings that had taken place since... since it happened.

He knew that his son's actions were to be expected after what Uther had done. He knew that he would deserve it if Arthur never looked him in the face again. Knew that he deserved his son's hatred and resentment, and this exile from his life.

Arthur had shut himself away, and there was no way Uther could get to him.

The King's feelings battled within him. He wanted to apologise, to make things right between him and his son, but his pride stood in the way. He couldn't help but feel obliged to be defensive, and claim that he had been right. Even though he had caused so much pain to someone he loved so much.

Uther also knew that part of Arthur's mood was due to the news he had received from Gaius a week earlier. Being told that he would be limping for weeks and that his side had suffered so badly it may take years to recover, if he recovered at all, was so difficult to bear, especially for Arthur. And all Uther wanted was to help him through it all, but he couldn't. Because as much as he hated to admit it, Arthur didn't want anyone's help right now. And he most certainly did not want his father's help.

Sighing, the King slumped back in his throne. Standing up again almost immediately, he began to pace once more.

— — —

Arthur limped to his bed and sat down. It felt good to finally be alone. He didn't have to hide his feelings from anyone when there wasn't anyone there. Because right now, the only person he could talk to was himself. The only person he could rely on was himself. And the only person he could trust was himself.

What Uther had done, he didn't know if he could forgive. To kill your own son - surely it proved that the Prince really was a disappointment. It showed that Uther didn't care. If he was really prepared to trust a peasant over him, then Arthur knew that he could never be sure whether or not his father would believe another word he said.

His leg and side hurt constantly, despite the remedies Gaius treated him with, but what hurt the most was his heart. Uther hadn't apologised. Uther wasn't sorry.

Uther didn't care.

Arthur sighed. He knew he had little chance of recovering from this, both mentally and physically. His leg would heal soon, but Gaius had said that his side may take years to recover, or not recover at all. It was such a difficult thing to face. He had stopped looking to the future; he didn't want to see what was most likely in front of him.

What he really wanted was to put the whole experience behind him. He still may never be able to look at his father again, but he just wanted the entire thing to be over. Forgotten. But it was impossible to forget something that was still happening. And it was even harder to forget something that was shadowing the future for at least a year.

How could things go back to normal? His father had tried to kill him, for God's sake, and he knew there was unrest among his knights, to say the least. How many of them would still trust him?

Sighing, Arthur tried to ignore his own pessimistic thoughts. He stood and headed towards Gaius' chambers; he was supposed to have met him around fifteen minutes ago.

Limping from his room, he paused to look back longingly at the reminder of his old life before mentally shaking himself and leaving.