I was in a funny mood (It may not be funny to you, but oh well) and I've never done a humour/humor fic before so I thought I'd give it a shot! A One-Shot! Enjoy! I had a lot of fun writing this, I hope you have as much reading it xD


When Merlin normally awoke, it was normally knocking on the door from Gaius, or the early bustle from the town below. Today, however, couldn't have been any more different.

Merlin nearly jumped out of his skin when Elyan... well, Sir Elyan now, came crashing through the door with a worried look on his face. Full of bewilderment, Merlin eyed him wildly. However, it was the Knight who spoke first.

"Merlin, we're in big trouble!"

The warlock threw himself out of bed, fearing the worst while he attempted to dress while listening intently.

"What is it? Have Morgana and Morgause returned?"

"No, it's worse." Fear filled Merlin's heart at these words, and he took a deep breath as he composed himself.

"Go on then, I'm all ears."

Elyan looked Merlin in the eye, fear gripping him and the manservant "It's Gwaine; he's found the local tavern!"

"Oh good god!" Merlin panicked that much he nearly missed a heartbeat. When he scrambled for his shoes, he slipped and hit his head on the cupboard.

"Ouch, my head hurts!"

"Imagine what Gwaine's will be like after he's drunk the whole tavern dry, and has an angry innkeeper to deal with!"

At this Merlin's pain magically vanished at this, and he barely regained his composure as he and Sir Elyan quietly passed a sleeping Gaius. The Knight eyed the shelf full of potions eagerly.

"See if you can find something that will help Gwaine cure his hangover!"

"Are you insane?" Merlin hissed. "Even magic would have its time cut out making Gwaine feel better when he's going to wake up!"

"Well grab something anyway!" Merlin reluctantly crept over to the shelf, grabbing the closest bottle to the edge – making sure it was not poison, naturally – knowing it would do no good. It was bright pink in colour, and looked like syrup in texture. Who cares anyway? It was Gwaine's fault he'd got into this pickle anyway... speaking of pickles... oh no! Merlin remembered the four dozen pickled onions he had to pay last time round. So he'd need something for his breath... Merlin hastily grabbed some mint leaves.

The two men left Gaius to his sleep, and made haste through the courtyard and down to the lower town.

"How did you know he's found the inn, Sir Elyan?"

"You'll know soon enough."

"Oh come on, I don't want to open the door, get covered in puke, slip on it, fall down the stairs, hit some guy and knock his drink over while starting some massive tavern fight, do I? Okay, I admit, it sounds very farfetched, but can you just tell me how you know?"

"He was seen entering the inn called 'The Rising Sun' last night. That tavern is known for its brawls. That's why I got so worried and woke you up-"

"Why didn't you just tell me last night and we could have sorted this out-"

"If we'd have done that then we would have been faced with the bill! Even early in the night I wager he'd already got through a few barrels of mead!"

Merlin gulped noisily as they arrived at the Rising Sun. No sound was coming from the inside, but the moment they entered the door, a wave of noise hit their ears. People were still drinking, even now! It seemed like an all-nighter, or whatever they called such things here. The room was stuffy and the air was close here, as was the tolerance of nearly all here. Some were completely out of it, and one man was hanging upside down while accurately puking into an empty barrel. Elyan and Merlin looked at each other with very, very wide eyes. This had been a very wild night, and if that meant Gwaine was involved, that was very bad for them all!

There was no sign of the mead-happy Knight, so they proceeded to go upstairs. At the top there was thin corridor, with three doors on the right hand side. Positioning themselves, Merlin and Elyan nodded, and they knocked down a door each, the hinges snapping while the thin doors shattered as they hit the earth. Both rooms were empty.

"I'll take this one," Merlin said, aligning himself with the third and final doorway. Taking a deep breath, he lifted his leg up and down the door went-

"BWWURGHHH!" The next thing Merlin knew was a wave of water throwing him back with the force of a powerful spell, and crash he went into the wall. Groaning, he went to stand up, then nearly heaved.

"Oh... sugar!" It wasn't water that had hit him, put a torrent of fast-flowing puke. He noticed a piece of onion on his shoulder, and nearly passed out.

"Morning, Gwaine, you look rough." Merlin spoke with respect to the night, but he was finding it quite difficult at the current moment in time. Who could blame him?

"You look worse," Gwaine replied hoarsely, while stumbling out of the door. "What happened to you, Merlin? Looks like you got yourself into a pickle." At this Merlin grabbed a handful of half-digested pickled onions and threw them to the sodden floor with disdain. How funny.

"Oh, no, I just happened to be covered in sick when I knocked on your door." His rebuke went unnoticed.

"Elyan!" He went to embrace his fellow knight, but aimed two feet to the left and crashed to the ground, spewing up more puke while laughing madly. Jumping up to his feet, Gwaine shook hands with Elyan, who had to wipe his vomit-covered hand on one of the doors.

"We need to get you out of here! We haven't seen the barman yet, but it's only a matter of time!"

"After you, Merlin." Gwaine grinned sheepishly at the top of the stairs. Merlin shook his head vigorously, and as a result Elyan's face received a mixture of pickled onions, mead, wine, cider, and something that couldn't be identified.

"I'm not going downstairs first while you're puking like a fountain!"

Gwaine grinned yet again "Oh come on, it's isn't that... bwurgh!" More puke followed, some of it dripping down the staircase with a terrible gloopy sound.

"Oh all right, fine!" Gwaine said grumpily, and he went down first, followed by Elyan. Wiping some excess vomit sloppily off his face, Merlin took the first step down... woah!

He slipped onto his backside, and down he went, crashing into a surprised Elyan, who bumped into Gwaine, who instantaneously regurgitated all over and dived into a large throng of drinkers. Oh no. Merlin's 'farfetched' premonition had come into reality.

Chaos then ensued, with punches being wildly thrown in all directions, while all present were covered in a seemingly never ending supply of Gwaine-created vomit. The roar of a few dozen angry, drunken men was not the average sort of noise that the populace of Camelot awoke to. Tankards, bowls, chairs and even a small table were hurled in various directions, and a broken chair leg broke through one of the front windows of the inn. They had to get out now!

Through the madness of it all, Merlin spotted the bright red cape of Elyan, but when they regrouped, they realised that they had lost Gwaine! They stood by the front door, trying to find the man through the flying punches, chairs, tankards, and people. However, after a minute or two of frantic searching, Merlin's keen eyes noticed Gwaine standing on top of a table, singing loudly while tapping an empty tankard or two on a few bald heads. Then, without warning, he stopped laughing, and looked at his two friends by the front door. The next words he said were the most terrifying that Merlin ever heard.

"I don't feel too good."

Merlin and Elyan eyed each other with terror, and the two went to rush out of the front door... but they were too late.

"BWURGHHHH!"

"AAAAIIIIIIIII!"

The last thing Merlin saw in the tavern was a huge body of puke travel in his direction at an astounding speed, before he and Elyan were thrown not out, but through the door. The two crashed to the ground outside as more wails of terror emerged as the windows smashed, and vomit poured out onto the street in horrifying amounts. More and more people washed up outside, in what could not be described anything less than a small lake of half-digested... stuff.

Merlin was now half-submerged in this ghastly stuff, but it quickly ebbed away, before all that remained were half-dead people, covered in light brown liquid, and a suspicious amount of pickled onions. It was definitely more than four dozen this time around. And as for the drink... Merlin didn't even want to think about it.

As the tide of last night's madness receded, Gwaine stepped out, and Merlin's jaw dropped! What? That wasn't fair; the man was virtually spotless! How did he get away with it while he and Elyan were smothered in the horrible stuff! This was not fair!

Gwaine stepped out of the inn, and strode over to his two disgruntled friends.

"You two looked like you had a rough night."

"Do you think so!" They both replied in unison.

"Here, this is for you." Merlin managed to bring out the potion he had retrieved any earlier. Surely things couldn't get any worse.

Gwaine eyed it with suspicion but downed it nonetheless. When he'd finished, he handed the empty bottle back over to Merlin. He looked at the manservant with an odd look on his unbelievably clean face.

"You know what Merlin?"

"What is it, Sir Gwaine?"

"I don't... BWURGHHH!"


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