A Week of Suspicion, A Day of Action

Day One

Merlin growled as he stomped into the room. The metal objects clattered in his arms before he dropped them onto the stone floor. The loud crash reverberated through the armoury and any servant who had not already disappeared was gone in a flash. The warlock muttered obscenities under his breath as he scrubbed the armour with pointed fury. His glare refused to falter and his mouth was unable to do anything but scowl.

There was an onslaught of cheery noise accompanied by the stomping of heavy boots. The knights poured into the armoury, still stuck in their chainmail. Merlin learnt long ago that for some reason they were unable to wear anything else. Hence the reason why most of Camelot avoided the knights like a plague, they really stank.

Merlin's eyes narrowed and he scoured the armour even more ferociously. Emrys did not even need to look up to see that he was in the middle of the rowdy group. Merlin bared his teeth savagely, clenching the armour with shaking hands. A low rumble started at the back of Merlin's throat as he fought to keep his rage under control. The last time he had accidentally breathed fire had not been pretty. Not to mention the consequences…

He turned to watch the warlock, eyes flashing with curiosity. Merlin kept his head down, tuning everything else out as he rubbed the gleaming armour. His stare bored into the back of Merlin's head and a small itch made its way into Merlin's mind.

"Emrys." His voice whispered. "What's wrong Emrys?"

Merlin gave up then, slowly raising his head to meet the eyes of the turncoat druid. As he stared into frozen pools of Merlin's eyes, Mordred gulped. When Merlin's teeth decided to shine unnaturally bright, Mordred ran. The knights watched Mordred flee, shrugging with bemusement as the newest knight bolted.

Day Two

Merlin grinned lazily to himself as he lounged in the meadow outside Camelot. He only had a few more herbs to pick, no chores from Arthur, and a distinct lack of annoying druid-traitors. The warlock sighed gently, closing his eyes and lying down on his back.

Merlin let the sun play on his face and the wind sting his cheeks. It really was a beautiful day, a type of day Emrys had not seen for a while. Well it was not his fault magic was banned! One of the side-effects of keeping his magic hidden was the storms, seriously, his magic loved to create storms. It was harmless, except for that one time… Pigs really could fly.

Merlin chuckled as he thought back on the last week, relishing in the humour that had overtaken Camelot. Between the Flying Pigs and Dancing Cows, Merlin wondered how Arthur managed to hold in his laughter. The Dragonlord pushed the befuddling thought aside and concentrated on the wonderful weather.

Right, where was he, peace and quiet…

"Emrys." Mordred's voice interrupted Merlin's relaxation. A snarl ripped itself from the warlock's throat and he threw himself into a sitting position. "Emrys-"

Before the druid could continue, Merlin shoved a few threats into the teenager's face. A couple perfectly horrible pictures that would make a grown man run for the hills screaming his head off. Needless to say, Mordred was silent in seconds.

Oh yes, nice, calm, sunny day...

Thunder rumbled high overhead as clouds rolled over the horizon. Merlin took a deep breath and tightened his hands into fists as the rain fell in bucket-loads. Just wonderful, absolutely perfect!

The Dragonlord slumped with exhaustion, grinding his teeth furiously. He was well and truly drenched, never mind the seeping chill. So, herbs. Oregano, Hemlock, and Frostbite coming right up.

Day Three

Mordred scurried past, nervously glancing about as he hurried through Camelot. The Queen watched with a worried frown upon her beautiful face. There had been something off with Sir Mordred for days. She bit her lip in concern, taking a step forward to halt the knight.

"Gwen!" Merlin's amicable yelled sounded through the corridor and all thoughts of Sir Mordred were pushed out of the Queen's mind.

Day Four

Leon raised a blonde eyebrow as he stared at the youngest knight. Mordred was twitchy, jumping at every noise and sudden movement. The new knight glanced around himself in the bustling hallway, as if looking for a certain person. Sir Mordred jumped and it looked as if he gave a little squeak. Leon coughed and tried not to snigger before peering over heads to see who had spooked the young knight.

What? Merlin? He would not hurt a fly!

Day Five

Merlin grinned darkly as a fatigued Sir Mordred fought sloppily. The warlock had known he was up to something and the druid's obvious lack of sleep proved it. It was all the rage for evil-villains. Plotting at night was still the most fashionable thing out there, besides smirking of course.

Merlin let his signature crazy grin meld onto his face as Mordred looked across the training field. The druid let out a high-pitched shriek and was soon flat on his back. Gwaine helped Mordred to his feet and glanced behind himself.

It was just Merlin, and his regular smile. Seriously, what had Mordred so afraid?

Day Six

Mordred dodged into the armoury, peeking out through the door before shutting it with a relieved sigh. The knight turned around, intending to grab his shield, only to come face to face with the most terrifying smile ever.

Merlin gave a feral grin as he lifted the, now gleaming, sword in one hand.

Mordred screamed and dove out the door he had accidentally opened with his magic.

Merlin just shrugged evilly and rested the sword on one shoulder before strolling around Sir Mordred's unconscious form.

Day Seven

"He's evil, I tell you. Pure evil!"

George stared solemnly at the shrieking Sir Mordred. The manservant put on his best grovelling voice before replying. "Yes, Sir. Merlin is most definitely evil, Sir. I there anything I can get you, Sir?"

"I'm sure he's absolutely fine, George." A joyful voice entered the nearly-empty hallway. "I need to have a chat with Sir Mordred here anyway." Merlin's voice, if possible, was even happier and his grin was now on the disturbing side. George gave the king's servant a skeptical look, which immediately vanished with Merlin's next words. "I think the King might be needing some help though…"

George was off in a flash, leaving the terrified Sir Mordred alone with Merlin.

"Now, whatever are you planning?"

Day Eight

Mordred was most definitely not cowering behind the King's throne.

He was most definitely not refusing to move.

He had most definitely not been threatened into submission by the most light-hearted person ever.

Mordred's pride was very sure of it. Of course, his pride was rather tattered.

The battle raged around the druid. Spells flew along with inanimate objects and bets. Arthur's would-be killer peered around the throne before ducking back at the sight of Merlin. A little squeal of panic left Mordred's mouth as he returned to his former position and began rocking with wide, terrified eyes.

There was a loud 'pop' that drowned out everything else for a second. Suddenly everything seemed much bigger for Mordred. When the grinning face of his terrorizer loomed into view, Mordred could do nothing but snuffle.

"Hmm, interesting." Merlin's booming voice made Mordred's sensitive ears twitch when the warlock spoke. "I wasn't sure if that was going to work." The giant reached down and scooped Mordred into his hands despite the former-knight's frantic struggles. "Now, hmm, the tail needs a bit of work –"

"Sorcerer!" A hysterical cry pierced the air followed by mumbling from other people.

"No really?" Merlin murmured sarcastically. "I never noticed."

"Guards seize him!"

Day Eight-Almost Midnight

Merlin waved goodbye to the guards as he slipped out of the castle. The sentinels responded in kind, silently thanking the warlock who had rid them of the evil witch Morgana. While the King was without his wits, many of Camelot still retained theirs. Merlin had about thirty dinner invites, all of which he had received on his way out of Camelot. The guards had turned a blind eye or joined in themselves. The knights had settled their bets (Gwaine was a whole lot richer while Leon, Percy, and Elyan were a whole lot poorer) before entering the revelries. Even Gwen had paid Merlin a visit on the way out of town.

The warlock whistled happily as he strolled along the unlit path. Emrys' face was set in a blinding grin as he skipped towards his new destination. He had some druids to rule…

Somewhere within Camelot, a little girl slept. Her fever had broken no more than two hours ago and her parents now practically worshiped the ground her saviour, Merlin, walked on. They had yet to join the few in the city that did. The mother clutched the parting gift from Merlin in her hands; it was a small, white, rabbit with startlingly blue-grey eyes.

Mordred just panicked. He was not happy with this arrangement. He was not happy at all…

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