• Twenty Summers •

Written by Maddy de L'Aurore and Ardenne Morgan.

Chapter One:

Secrets of the Morning

By Maddy de L'Aurore

"Rise and shine!" Merlin announced with his typical idiotic grin.

Soft sunlight rays peeked through the curtains, much to Arthur's irritation. He was not pleased in the least.

Summer was the worst month in Camelot. Everyone walked too slow and sighed too much. The King grew more irritated each day and Arthur's temper was hotter than the midday sun. Even the castle's walls started to sweat in the dizzying heat, damp and sticky with humidity.

Merlin had had been promptly greeted by a plump apple or a vase thrown at his shoulder on more than one occasion. He should know by now when to keep his big mouth shut.

"Can't you think of anything new to say?" complained a sleepy Arthur, still in bed.

"What?"

"Every morning, it is the same thing."

"Oh, I'm sorry. How about... shake a leg?" Arthur raised his head.

"Up and at 'em? " Merlin suggested with his usual cheerful disposition.

Arthur gave him a "Really, Merlin?" stare but Merlin had a habit of missing crucial clues.

"Let's have you lazy daisy...?" Merlin had asked, blue eyes lighting up and a familiar grin on his face. When Arthur shot him a murderous look, Merlin had the sense to run, shutting the doors behind him.

There was a jousting tournament coming up in a month's time and Arthur had plans to spend the entire day training, ensuring that he would be ready to win when the time came. It was breakfast time and Arthur sat at the table, taking a lazy sip from his goblet as his father greeted Morgana. She had a troubled look upon her face, her eyes darting from place to place.

"Anything the matter?" asked Uther.

"It's Gwen."

Merlin glanced at Arthur. He was listening intently, just as Merlin had guessed.

"She didn't turn up to work this morning."

"That's not like her." Arthur's voice was just a bit too high. He sounded concerned.

Merlin had no reason to feel that pang inside his chest but it happened each time Arthur's feelings for Gwen became apparent. He tried his best to swallow his feelings and stand still, waiting for orders of food or drink or for clearing the table.

"No, it's strange,' Morgana agreed. "I hope nothing's wrong," she added, her voice overflowing with feigned worry.

The King reassured Morgana that if her maid could no longer be relied upon, she could easily be replaced. Arthur made a face at this and Merlin remembered an incident that had occurred shortly after he and Arthur had first met. Merlin had drunk from a poisoned goblet to save Arthur's life but had fallen deathly ill soon after. When Arthur had learned Merlin was dying from the poison, he had risked his life and disobeyed his father's orders solely to save Merlin, his manservant. Merlin had wondered, then, if that was all he was to Arthur, or if it was something more. But he had dared not linger on those thoughts for too long, for thoughts could grow into wishes, wishes into hope and hope was dangerous. Hope could be destroyed in a moment and destroy its bearer with it. This lesson Merlin had learned time and time again.

"I'm sure she'll turn up soon enough," said Arthur, his voice interrupting Merlin from his chain of thoughts.

"I'm sure," Morgana smiled.

It wasn't long before Arthur had cancelled his plans for the jousting tournament in favour of finding out what had happened to Guinevere.

"Go to Gwen's house and find out what's wrong."

Merlin nodded, turning towards the castle's doors.

"And Merlin," Arthur added, "Quick as you can."

"Yes, sire."

The door opened easily. It was unlocked.

"Gwen?"

There was no answer.

Merlin surveyed the room.

"Gwen?"

Objects looked out of place, Merlin noted. Perhaps signs of a struggle. He felt uneasy, a churning feeling inside his stomach. Scanning the room again, slower this time, Merlin's eyes landed on a rag thrown on the floor. He picked it up carefully, bringing it towards his nose. His face scrunched up immediately, repelled by the scent of a strong sedative potion. It had almost certainly been used to sedate Gwen. There was only one logical conclusion.

Merlin hurried to Arthur's chambers, taking the rag with him. Arthur walked up to him, eyes on the object in Merlin's hands.

"What's that?"

"Found it at Gwen's," Merlin said, holding it out.

"It's a scrap of cloth," Arthur stated without much enthusiasm.

A smile played on Merlin's lips. "Idiot. You're missing the point."

"I know."

"She's a seamstress. How could that possibly be important?"

"Smell it," Merlin commanded, dismissive of Arthur's scepticism.

"No thanks." Arthur studied Merlin's face. "What on Earth is he up to? Is this some sort of–"

"Just smell it," Merlin repeated.

Arthur sighed and rolled his eyes, grabbing the rag from Merlin's hands. He held the cloth to his face and took in a long, deep breath, much to Merlin's surprise who furrowed his brows and mouthed "What are you– ?"

In a second, Arthur's eyes had closed and his body was well on its way to crashing towards the ground. A quick flash of golden eyes and Arthur's chair slid into place, ensuring the unconscious prince only fell safely into his chair.

With a sigh of relief, Merlin bent down to retrieve the cloth Arthur had dropped and then let his gaze drift towards an unconscious Arthur. His eyes were half closed, lashes fluttering as if he would suddenly awake. He groaned softly and turned his head to the side, making his collarbones and the muscles in his neck more prominent. Merlin shifted about as he glanced at the flash of smooth skin under the dark criss-cross of Arthur's shirt. It was a shade paler than that of his face or his toned but still slender arms. Heat rose up to Merlin's cheeks and he quickly turned his gaze towards the rag, busying himself with folding it in quarters as he bit his lips nervously.

"What... is that?" Arthur slurred, his eyes still closed.

Merlin made sure not glance at Arthur as he replied.

"It's a compound of Hogswort and Valerian."

"What?" Arthur held a hand to his head, trying to stabilise himself.

"I'm just guessing," Merlin said quickly, not wanting to arouse suspicions of – well, anything.

It's not like Merlin has ever seriously considered knocking someone out. It was more of a fleeting fancy he had come across a few times. Gazing at Arthur passed out in the woods so many times had made him wonder, every now and then, of all the possibilities.

"You could knock a man out with that!" Arthur exclaimed.

He doesn't mean what you think he means, Merlin.

"Yesss," Merlin agreed. "Or a woman?"

Granted, Arthur had been knocked out a few minutes ago, but he seemed awfully slow today. At least he had finally managed to understand the situation.