"I can't explain it, Gaius, but I just have this really bad feeling that something is going to happen if Arthur takes part in the tournament." Merlin said quietly, pushing his spoon in circles in his broth.
Gaius was sitting opposite him, "There hasn't been any signs of disturbance, magical or otherwise..."
Merlin nodded, "I know, but... maybe I should tell Arthur?" Gaius lifted his eyebrow, and Merlin huffed into his broth, "What then? Switch places? I don't think I'd be able to lie my way out of Arthur been zapped away midway through a sword fight and replaced with me."
Gaius smiled a little, "That would be somewhat difficult to explain."
"Maybe I will mention it... he's used to it after all... can't hurt..." Merlin muttered.
"I'm sure you'll do whatever you feel is right." Gaius told his young ward.
Merlin took a step towards the door that would lead him to Arthur. Unfortunately he seemed to be unable to lift his arm to the handle. He wondered if he was simply overreacting to the situation, but Arthur's life was most important and if it was in danger then Merlin was certainly not going to sit back and let things take their own course. He'd definitely think of someway to convince Arthur; and if the prince wouldn't take his advice to drop the tournament, Merlin would bloody find a way to save the prats life. Merlin found himself struck from his pause by the door opening.
Arthur stood in front of him. "You're late. Again. Surprise surprise." The prince mewled.
Merlin frowned, "More like, you're up way earlier than usual and have seen a time of the day you haven't previously seen. What are you doing up already?"
"I've a tournament to prepare for." Arthur said. Merlin opened his mouth to speak. Arthur cut him off by picking up a sausage from the plate and shoving into his man servants mouth. "I'm not hungry. Help yourself."
Merlin chewed the sausage, not one to turn down royal food, then swallowed, "Nervous?"
"Not at all."
"I don't believe you." Merlin said.
Arthur shrugged, "I'm not bothered if you do or not."
Merlin huffed, "Arthur, I don't think that you should participate in the tournament."
Arthur let out a sigh, "Merlin... If this is another attempt at proving your absolute madness, and stupidity, don't bother. You've proven that already."
"It's not. I've got a bad feeling." Merlin assured the prince.
"Me too. I've got a feeing that Gaius should put you down." Arthur muttered trying to walk around Merlin to get out of the room.
Merlin stood his ground and didn't budge, "I'm serious. Look you've got to admit I've had my fair share of bad feelings that turned into very bad situations."
"Coincidences." Arthur brushed off simply.
Merlin scoffed, "Yeah right and I'm a sor-..."
Arthur cocked an eyebrow.
"-ry excuse for a royal prince." Merlin finished.
Arthur laughed once, "Like you'd ever pull of that big a scandal."
"You'd be surprised what I could pull off..." Merlin retorted.
"Where's Arthur?" Gaius asked, eyeing Merlin holding the princes armour.
"In his chambers." Merlin replied in a rush.
"Well what's he doing there? Shouldn't you be fitting him into his fancy getup?" Gaius asked. Merlin snorted. Gaius huffed out; "What are you up to, Merlin?" then he cocked that infamous eyebrow.
"Absolutely nothing." Merlin assured with a lopsided grin.
"I must admit that I don't believe you. You said you polished Arthur's armour last night." Gaius said.
"I missed a spot." Merlin said, "You know how Arthur is. It's to be spotless and nothing less will do."
Gaius gave him a stern frown.
Merlin chuckled nervously and danced around the older man, moving past him and heading out of the armoury. Gaius turned to watch his ward face may be fooling everybody else, but Gaius' eyes were just fine thank you very much; at least in regards to Merlin.
The worry knotted in his gut and Gaius prayed silently to anyone who was listening to keep the fool safe.
Merlin stepped into Arthur's chambers, bidding good morning to Gwen as she passed by. Merlin leant against the door to close it and the armour slipped from his grip and clattered to the floor. Instinct had Merlin jumping around to make sure Arthur was still sleeping, but then he remembered himself.
Arthur was under the influence of a nifty little sleeping draught, the prince would likely be out for a good few hours. Merlin liked his plan. There was no magic involved at least from his end. He couldn't speak for the knight who made Merlin feel ill. The mere sight of the greasy haired fellow would surely turn fresh milk. Merlin knew he was being rude, but there was definitely something off with that man; and Merlin did not want Arthur facing him in battle... Well, not the real one anyway.
Merlin set the armour along the table and eyed it up before starting to struggle into it. He'd have to wear a helmet and try and speak like Arthur, but ordering people around wasn't going to be all that hard now, was it?
Turns out everyone was as gullible as Merlin assumed they would be. Uther hadn't batted an eye at Arthur parading out in a helmet. People bowed to him as he passed and Merlin felt a tiny swirling ball of guilt take spot in his stomach. He tried to ignore it... after all, he was doing this to save Arthur's life. Hopefully things wouldn't go badly and end up putting Merlin out of work, or worse. The arena was nothing different from a typical tournament. Merlin was lucky, Arthur had already fought to win his spot today and Merlin wouldn't have to face his opponent until everyone else had either won or lost. It seemed to drag, each battle taking a ridiculously long time to draw to an end.
The nerves started to replace the guilt, and Merlin hoped that Arthur was still asleep in his chambers, or there could be a problem. It'd been ages since that morning... but eventually... Merlin heard them call for the last pair to fight, his royal highness Prince Arthur, and Sir Greasy. Merlin honestly couldn't give two silver pieces for the mans name.
He stood and pulled on his helmet, then tent having offered him a respite from the stifling heat inside the metal. He reached for Arthur's blade, sitting atop the table. It was heavy in Merlin's grasp. He muttered a spell underneath his breath, "æt ápyndrest þæs sylfum sum geþyll" and he tested the lighter weapon. He could swing this much more easily. God knows how Arthur could swing it without magical aid. Merlin grabbed the shield too and then headed out of the tent and into the arena. Cheers errupted around him and he saw Morgana sitting beside Uther. She looked bored; Merlin felt her pain. He hated these tournaments, they meant extra work and boring dinners and stuck up knights.
He spotted his foe entering from the other side, the man wasn't particularly large, but Merlin's gut clenched in fear anyway. Skilled as he was in magic, swordplay was not a talent he was skilled in. He hadn't thought about that before hand, and now he worried if he's actually be able to pull this off. They bowed to each other in a show of respect, and then before Merlin could even try to think, Greasy was upon him, fast and light and Merlin saw red as his head slammed against the ground. He heard the distant groans from the crowd. This was not going to be easy.
Merlin had no idea how long they'd been crossing blades, but he was exhausted and despite the lightened sword, his arm ached and Merlin just wanted to sleep for a week. Greasy hadn't sustained any noticeable injuries. He was unscathed. Merlin considered using a subtle spell, but he felt as though this was a fight he had to win fairly... even if he wasn't actually a knight, let alone the prince. Merlin stood unsteadily on his feet, shield long forgotten, lying far across the pitch. Greasy had his still and Merlin grumbled in the helm. Greasy must have heard him, because his mouth twitched upwards. His eyes were blocked but that mouth was taunting Merlin just fine. Merlin guessed he was already using magic, trying to wear Arthur down, thinking that it was working.
It probably was, but not in the way intended. Merlin adjusted his footing, trying to recall all the information he tried to ignore during his training periods with Arthur. Of course it was training for Arthur, not Merlin but Merlin willed the information to come back from the dark recesses of his head.
It did not, and Merlin watched Greasy lunge at him, sword flashing in the sunlight. Merlin had to turn his head away. He was Uther, frowning deeply, and then Morgana, looking as though she'd enjoy teasing Arthur with this failure. Then there was a flash of blonde hair and Arthur was dancing through the crowd, moving to his father's side. Merlin didn't recall much after that, only a sharp sting in his chest and the feeling of warm liquid soaking his tunic.
Uther stood when Arthur came towards him, "What in heavens name-?"
"Father, forgive me my foolish manservant-."
Uther cut him off by forcing Arthur's head around to watch as the prince was skewered through his armoured chest-plate. The crowd was going mad in horror, and Arthur stared in dumbstruck confusion.
Morgana was talking now and then Arthur watched as whomever was playing him collapsed, seemingly dead. The knight who'd downed him withdrew his helmet and turned to Uther, eyes flickering gold with magic. Arthur heard Uther shouting for guards and the crowd was quick to scatter. Morgana was rushing forwards with the guards, but the sorcerer vanished in a swirl of black smoke. Arthur felt his father's hand on his arm, shaking him, talking, but nothing was registering. Merlin hadn't woken him this morning... Merlin had warned Arthur of this, of something... Merlin was...
AN: And that's that. This is actually going to continue as a prompt fic. Any prompts related to BBC Merlin and hopefully revolving around Arthur and Merlin. To clarify; this chapter is a one shot and will probably not be continue, but feel free to give prompts for other one shot ficlets.
Roughly translated "æt ápyndrest þæs sylfum sum geþyll" means "to weigh that of an air breeze"
Hope you enjoyed this little chapter.
I look forward to any prompts to allow me to procrastinate and not do anything I should be doing... hurrah