F A I T H
:i:
Be faithful in small things because it is in them that your strength lies.
*
It happened in a blink of an eye.
One moment-
"And Camelot be damned with you!"
-The next, Merlin was running forwards, because execution be damned, he wasn't just going to let Arthur die right in front of his eyes. He could feel the magic welling up inside him like a golden wave, barely held back under his skin, and he pushed at it, thinking no, save Arthur, no. He threw himself in front of his prince, desperate, but somehow ended with an elbow in the gut, his legs swept out from under him, Arthur's voice shouting "No!" and his head hit the ground, hard.
The sorceress shrieked in fury, and there was a whirl wind of dust.
Merlin scrambled to his feet, head still ringing from his fall.
The woman and Arthur were gone.
"Arthur?" he blurted, stupidly, whipping around to look desperate around the great hall.
"Where is he?!" Uther bellowed, face blanched white, sword drawn in gloved hand. "Where is my son?"
Had the sorceress taken him? Merlin felt about cautiously with his magic, trying to keep the panic at bay with logic. Why would the witch try to kill Arthur then change her mind and take him hostage? It didn't make sense. Either the witch had fled and Arthur had- He cast his eyes about the hall once more, taking in the confused and scared courtiers who had all been trapped within by the magically locked doors. They were now open, and knights were pouring through the doorway, filling the room with sweeps of red.
No Arthur.
Where-
And then Merlin noticed something at his feet. A pile of clothes. Arthur's clothes!
He dropped to his knees next to them, just as Uther appeared out of no where beside him.
"Are those-"
Merlin didn't even look up, picking up Arthur's red jacket- his favourite, gold studded buttons that needed to be polished every second day, god Merlin hated doing that but Arthur really did look rather dashing in it and- he forced his mind back to the present, stamping down on the babble of panic and hysteria.
And as he pulled away Arthur's jacket, he spotted something in the pool of fine silk shirt Arthur had worn to the feast. His blood ran cold.
It was Arthur.
Arthur, naked, unconscious in a heap and six inches tall.
"Oh Arthur," breathed Merlin, terrified. He was aware of Uther standing by him, stock still with shock and disbelief, and then Gaius appeared, crouching down next to him and peering into the bundle of cloth that was Arthur's clothes.
"Gods above," said Gaius, "Is that-"
Dimly, Merlin heard Uther calling out orders, words like tonight, find her, and dead or alive filtered through to his brain but otherwise, there was a white, buzzing noise in his ears that prevented him to think. It was the curse, it must have been – instead of killing Arthur, it turned him six inches tall; effectively damning Camelot in the process. If Merlin couldn't find a cure, then there was no way- Arthur couldn't stay like this forever.
"…Merlin, are you listening to me?" said Gaius.
"-And undo this curse!" Uther.
Merlin jumped, almost falling forwards. He managed to catch himself just in time before he fell onto the clothes.
"What?"
"I said we need to get Arthur out of here," said Gaius, urgently.
"Okay. Okay," said Merlin, taking deep breaths. Now was not the time to lose his head.
The shirt was far too large – and Merlin was afraid he might suffocate Arthur if he wasn't careful. So instead, he reached up and untied the knot of his neckerchief, folding the cloth in half and then carefully shifted Arthur from his shirt into the dip of the kerchief. Arthur did not stir at all, tiny limbs limp, head lolling. The situation should be funny somehow, but it was all Merlin could do not to choke on his fear. With infinite care, he wrapped the cloth around Arthur, keeping his head uncovered, and cradled him in the cupped palm of both hands. Arthur was so small there was barely any weight.
"Do you know of a cure?" demanded Uther, eyes a little wild. It was not the king Merlin knew; all powerful and unwavering in his fight against sorcery, cruel in his revenge. This was Arthur's Father.
"I fear with such a curse, only the sorceress may undo it," said Gaius gravely, and Merlin was unable to suppress a shiver, drawing Arthur closer to his chest. Uther's eyes flickered to the figure in Merlin's hands, then away as if he couldn't bear to look.
"Then we shall find her and force her to undo the evil she has done. In the mean time, try find a cure."
"Yes sire," said Gaius, inclining his head, and then ushered Merlin quickly out of the hall. Merlin almost tripped, eyes glued to Arthur in his hands –in his hands- instead of watching where he was going. He managed to keep his balance, heartbeat ratcheting against his ribs.
"Careful, Merlin!" Gaius admonished.
"Sorry!" said Merlin, "Sorry, sorry."
Oh gods, Arthur was six inches tall. He was small enough to fit into Merlin's palm, small enough to be killed if Merlin accidently fell over, or held him too tightly or dropped him-
They made it to Gaius's rooms, finally.
"Put him here," said Gaius, clearing a space on the workshop table. Merlin put Arthur gently down on the wooden surface, parting his hand slowly. And as he did, Arthur groaned, shifting his cocoon. Merlin froze.
"We need to figure out what kind of spell she used," Gaius was saying, "Perhaps- Merlin?"
"I think- Arthur?" Merlin bent low over the table, "Arthur, can you hear me?"
Arthur groaned again, and then he opened his eyes. Blue eyes – still the same sky blue- stared back up at Merlin for a long, long moment- before Arthur shrieked. Merlin jerked backwards. It sounded like a shriek, even though it was more of a shout, because Merlin realised suddenly that Arthur was really just six inches tall so his vocal chords were probably miniscule. But for some reason, he could still hear Arthur perfectly well when he said:
"Merlin?"
Merlin swallowed hard.
"Yes. Yes – it's me."
Arthur looked remarkably calm for someone who was six inches tall. Oh gods, Merlin could still not comprehend it – six inches. He stared up at Merlin's face, which must have been a pretty disturbing sight, thought Merlin, and tried to sit up.
"Why are you so…big?" asked Arthur, voice trembling only very slightly.
"It's not that- you've been- you're…"Merlin wasn't sure how you could sugar coat being cursed into a miniature version of yourself. "You've been cursed," he said at last.
By now, Arthur had extricated his arms from the neckerchief and was holding it about himself with both his hands, sitting up on the table. Merlin watched as he looked slowly around himself, taking in the gigantic books and inkwells and the glass bottles in a row.
"Are you hurt, sire?" asked Gaius.
"I'm fine," said Arthur, turning around and Merlin saw his eyes widen as he saw Gaius near the table.
He watched as Arthur struggled to his feet, the neckerchief trailing in a huge wave behind him. He was almost as tall as the two books stacked on top of each other by his side, blond hair in a messy tuft upon the top of his head. The goblet that was taller than he was now, reflecting his pale face in it's curved metal surface. The tin dinner plate was a lake and Merlin snatched the abandoned fork out of Arthur's path, who stood rather still. The table top was a huge expanse of dark wood, the room even larger from his perspective.
And Merlin barely managed to catch Arthur's little body as he swayed precariously, once, twice, and fell into a dead faint.
:I:
Author's Note: My fluffy WiP fic. :) tbc
