A/N: I know I should be working on the next chapter of Seeing is Believing before my readers lynch me but this idea popped into my insane head and it won't leave me alone (and I only started it to prove to myself I couldn't write it). It began as a short idea but it got away from me a bit so I'm breaking it up. According to plan it will probably be about 6(ish) parts written when I'm in the right mood and when have the time. I hope it's going to be mildly entertaining (if a little unusual).
update: This was started prior to series 3 and in my head is set sometime in the series 2-3 gap but there's little specific to tie it down to this other than the lack of Morgana and Cenred is identified as a threat. Anything which doesn't quite tally up with the show was unforseen at the time.
Summary: Arthur falls foul of a sorcerer's spell and very little is going well. He's very irate about his tongue-twisted fate. Can Merlin help him before it's too late? An aging magical prankster evades capture but his latest 'joke' has unforeseen repercussions.
Warnings: None, although due to the nature of this fic, some people might find it a bit too much to read in all in one go if they're starting this after a few chapters have already been posted. Also, if you take this too seriously you do so at your own risk.
Pairings: No slash here! Maybe some mild Arthur/Gwen in later chapters but I'm not entirely sure yet. Depends whether or not it fits.
Disclaimer: I still don't own Merlin, it is the BBC and Shine's. I get no profit from writing this, only fun.
Hexing Can Be Vexing
Part 1
The slender old man set his book down on the small wooden table in the centre of his simple home, brushing a strand of long grey hair from his face so it hung with the rest that cascaded in a thin curtain down his back. A faint noise outside made him look up with a start. He smiled. He may be old but his hearing was as sharp as ever and a playful twinkle flashed across his widened eyes.
Standing up, he moved to the fire and helped himself to a serving of stew which was bubbling in a pot hanging over the flames. He ladled a small portion into a wooden bowl and sat back down at the table, his back deliberately at the window and facing the only entrance.
Unseen, but not unnoticed, a raven-haired head peered cautiously over the lower edge of the window-frame.
"Is he inside? What-do-they-call-him?" Arthur hissed to his servant turned lookout. Merlin ducked back down and turned round to face him, catching his head on the sill as he did. Stealthy surveillance was not his forte – not when someone was watching anyway.
"Bryce apparently and yes, he's eating," Merlin replied. "Are you sure he's a threat to the kingdom, he looks about ninety?"
"He's suspected of sorcery," Arthur pointed out matter-of-factly.
"It sounds more like a practical joke to me."
"Either way, that's for my father to decide. My job is to bring him in."
"There's nothing like a fair trial," said Merlin cynically.
"And you can stop that sort of talk, right now. You know the law," Arthur whispered firmly.
"Alright, so what's the plan?"
Arthur proceeded to give a lot of exuberant and overly complicated gestures with his hands, which Merlin supposed meant something to him. He nodded blankly as Arthur's no doubt devilishly cunning sorcerer-capturing strategy soared straight over his head.
"Got that?" Arthur asked him softly. Merlin continued to nod unblinkingly and then his nodding morphed into slow bewildered shaking. Arthur rolled his eyes. "Forget it," he said, grabbing Merlin unexpectedly by the collar of his jacket and dragging him roughly round the sides of the small run-down hut until they were just outside the door.
Arthur stood poised for action, two hands firmly gripped around his sword, held upright at the ready. Merlin was right beside him, waiting to follow Arthur's lead.
"One... two..." Arthur mouthed clearly. On "three" he kicked down the door and charged into the room. "You're under arrest!" he shouted.
Merlin ducked as a bowl came flying across the room. It missed him but he felt a warm trickle of gravy down his neck. Their target was stood in the corner laughing and Arthur advanced, annoyed that he didn't look like coming quietly. He managed two brisk steps before finding himself engaged in combat with a magically animated mop.
"I think this settles the matter of sorcery," Arthur panted between sword-swings, until Merlin, with some surreptitious magical intervention, managed to drag the unlikely weapon away from him. "Well don't just stand there, Merlin," Arthur yelled, racing forward without so much as a word of gratitude. "He's going to get away."
"Oh yes, right." Merlin threw aside the mop he was proudly clutching and rushed across the room towards the ageing magician who was watching his handiwork with amusement but showed no sign of bolting. A few mumbled words and the furniture in the room sprung to the centre, barricading their path.
The sorcerer held his hands up submissively. "I'm an old man," he said. "I ask that you show leniency."
"You have broken the laws of Camelot," Arthur stated. "Magic is banned absolutely. There are no exceptions to the rule."
"I don't want to hurt you but I warn you I have no plans on walking willingly to my death. I intend to have some fun in my final years. If you pursue me I'm not sure you'll enjoy the consequences."
"Enough talk," Arthur said, pushing aside a chair that was part of the blockade.
"Arthur, maybe you should be careful. You don't know what you're up against," Merlin warned.
"I have a duty to Camelot," Arthur maintained and gestured to Merlin to shift the table. Merlin complied but kept an eye on Bryce, fully prepared to get in the way should he try anything.
Unfortunately he wasn't quick enough. The moment his hands touched the table, Bryce spoke and a silver light filled the room, sending Arthur flying backwards through the open door, which then closed, before Merlin could do anything.
"What did you do?" Merlin cried.
"Just a bit of fun," the sorcerer answered.
"I might have been able to help you, but not now."
"I don't want your help, boy. I think I'll be leaving now." The window behind him magically opened. Merlin's eyes flashed gold determinedly and it slammed shut again. "Very impressive," Bryce said surprised. "I wouldn't show that little trick of yours to anyone though, if I were you."
"If you'd refrained from your 'tricks' it wouldn't have been necessary."
"I'm sure you appreciate how tiresome hiding can be. I'm not much longer for this world and I know it. As such, I'm going out enjoying every last minute I have left.," He turned his back to Merlin. "I never liked that wall there anyway," he mused. "Ic ætberstan."
With a loud resounding crack, the window reopened – along with most of the wall in fact – as the wooden planks splintered and broke apart leaving a large man-sized hole in its place.
"Goodbye then, it was pleasant meeting you," Bryce waved.
"I can't just let you go," said Merlin firmly.
"Don't you want to check on your friend?"
A wave of panic rushed over Merlin and Bryce raised his eyebrows cryptically before making a hasty escape into the back woods. He was amazingly swift for his age but Merlin would have easily caught him if he'd tried. He knew he couldn't pursue though – not until he he knew Arthur was safe – and he hurried outdoors to find him, stumbling over the overturned furniture that was now strewn across the single room as he made his exit through the conventional door. He prayed that Arthur would be okay. He didn't know what sort of spell the old man had hurled at him. Everything he knew suggested that Bryce was a prankster rather than evil and he still failed to see why an incident involving purple sheep should could have caused so much fuss in the first place. Nevertheless, the law was the law. Sorcery mean death and people could be drive to do desperate things in desperate situations. Whether this would extend to hurting or even – Merlin tried to ignore a heavy lump that was swelling in his chest – killing Arthur, he didn't know.
As he burst outside he was hugely relieved to find Arthur clambering to his feet on the grass looking none the worse for his experience.
Suddenly however, the prince pulled a face and burst into an uncontrollable fit of coughing. Merlin regarded him, concerned.
"Are you okay?" he asked worriedly. Arthur nodded vigorously as bent over he continued to cough as if he had swallowed something nasty. Finally, his face looking a little red, he stood up straight again and gave Merlin a vague reassuring smile.
"Thank goodness," Merlin said. "For a moment there you gave me a fright."
"You worry too much," Arthur answered. "I'm quite alright."
"Are you sure? Because that spell looked bad."
"Look Merlin, I'm a pretty tough lad."
"Lad?" Merlin frowned apprehensively. "That doesn't sound like you."
"Then who do you think you're talking to."
"Something about this conversation is odd."
"Yes it's you, you stupid sod."
"Why are you rhyming your words with mine?"
"I'm telling you I'm speaking fine."
"You did it again," insisted Merlin. "Mine and fine."
"Are you sure you've not been on the wine?" Arthur's eyes widened in realisation and horror. "Oh no, it's true I'm rhyming you. There must be something I can do."
"Can't you just stop?"
"The words just swap. Argghh!" he cried frustratedly. "Everything I try to say is coming out a different way. And now I'm even rhyming me. This is a catastrophe."
"It's not that bad, it could be worse."
"Worse? This curse to speak in verse? Well sorry if I'm sounding terse. See things from my point of view. I now sound stupider than you. And don't forget another thing, Bayard of Mercia, a king, will be coming here in one day's time and I cannot greet the man in rhyme. Relations are finally on the up, after the incident with the poisoned cup. But this would be an utter joke, they'd take offence soon as I spoke. Negotiations would be hard if I sound like a bloody bard. The whole event would be a farce that's bound to bite us in the..."
Merlin clasped a hand over Arthur's mouth and the prince was silenced. For a moment Arthur looked incredibly irritated by his impertinence before relief set in.
"That'll do." Merlin removed his palm.
"Thank you," Arthur said.
"I'm very sure we'll find a cure," Merlin smirked.
"Must you be so immature."
"Sorry, just a bit of fun."
"Well, I fail to see the pun. It's not amusing and I won't be excusing if more rhymes you'll be overusing."
Merlin couldn't help it. He burst into laughter which was silenced (eventually) only by Arthur's stern glare.
"I'm sorry, Sire."
"You're not, you liar! I really think we should head back, though what I'll say about this attack... I wouldn't know where to begin and Mer-lin will you wipe that grin. Now I want no hassle on the way to the castle so as we're walking you're banned from talking. One remark about this spell and I'll make your life a living hell."
Merlin followed Arthur's wishes and they made their journey without so much as a murmur between them. It was a stark contrast to their usual banter and Merlin had to resist a strong urge to come out with a string of increasingly complicated words, just to see what would happen. He could understand though, why Arthur would find this degrading.
It was not a particularly long way and soon they found themselves outside the city walls. Merlin finally plucked up the courage to speak again.
"How are you feeling?" he asked nervously.
"My head is reeling in a manner unappealing. I think this may be hard concealing."
"No change then I hear."
"I wonder what gave you that idea."
A friendly guard nodded to the prince as they passed through the main gate. "Greetings, my lord."
"I wish to be ignored," snapped Arthur tetchily.
"Maybe no-one will notice what's wrong," Merlin suggested.
"Oh yes, I've sounded like this all along," said Arthur sarcastically. "Tell me just one person, one, who won't spot this. There are none. Look at me, a future king, rhyming each and everything. For heaven's sake, I'm Uther's son. This curse has got to be undone."
"Okay, first things first we'll speak to Gaius."
"Do you think that he can stop this bias for speaking in such an awkward fashion? Poetry is not my passion."
"I guess we'll have to wait and see."
"I can't believe this has happened to me!"
The uneasy silence which filled Gaius's cluttered workroom was broken by the brisk footsteps of a rather peeved prince.
"Sire, it would be easier to examine you if you could stand still," said Gaius.
"I'm not ill." Arthur complained, continuing his pacing from one side of the room to the other ignoring the two pairs of eyes which were following his every step.
"But you are wearing a hole in the floor," Merlin pointed out.
"I don't think I can take much more," Arthur moaned to himself. "This situation's too absurd, and if I rhyme another word..." He groaned in irritation then finally collapsed onto a chair.
"Can you do anything?" Merlin asked Gaius. The elderly physician shook his head.
"Aside from the obvious I can't find anything wrong with you," Gaius told Arthur, "Which I suppose we should be thankful for." He turned to a heavy volume and started flicking through it's yellowed pages. "I have seen a great many instances of people adversely affected by magic but nothing like this." He closed the book. "Without knowing exactly how this was caused it is difficult for me to speculate on a possible solution."
"My father will surely seek retribution and the sorcerer will face execution. Will this amend my elocution?"
There was a silence as Merlin and Gaius exchanged an awkward glance, the latter's expression becoming a glare as Merlin struggled to keep a straight face. Arthur rolled his eyes.
"I can't help it! I want to quit."
Merlin forced himself to take the situation seriously knowing that this couldn't be easy for Arthur. And if this was the reaction he got from himself and Gaius, how would others respond? Additionally, anything that the prince might say in a vain attempt to regain a bit of dignity would only make the situation worse.
"I do believe that tracing the sorcerer responsible is the key to solving this problem," Gaius said. "But hasty actions might do more harm than good. Contrary to belief, the consequences of magic are are not invariably undone upon the death of the one who cast the spell. At the moment there is only one person who knows what was done and he is the only one likely to know how to reverse the effect."
"So we need to find Bryce?" Merlin said.
"Hang on a trice. He won't want to be found and has surely gone to ground. Just supposing as you're proposing we manage to trace him when we face him he'll be most tricky to persuade. He did this, why would he want to aid?"
"If you were to offer some incentive."
"I'm not happy with being 'inventive'."
"Oh no!" said Merlin panicked. "That's not what I meant!"
"Then what strategy should I implement." The young servant cocked his head and gave Arthur an apprehensive look. "You must be kidding me! You're not suggesting he go free?" Arthur exclaimed.
Gaius took the opportunity to busy himself rearranging his bookcase.
"Let me be the voice of reason, you're actually suggesting treason. We're talking Camelot's highest law, not something I can just ignore. It's absolute. No dispute. He's a sorcerer of ill-repute. My decision will not be contested. This Bryce man will be arrested." Arthur hung his head. "But of course there's the other matter at hand – tomorrow Bayard will arrive as planned. And since I can't ignore my current state, I'll have to tell my father. Great!"