Merlin got up to the lily pad Arthur was resting on and about had his hands on him when Arthur jumped into the water with a plop. Arthur didn't just look like a frog; he thought he was a frog. He wasn't going to come to Merlin willingly. The witch that had done this was powerful, at least in the casting of shape-shifting spells and why not, she apparently had had plenty of practice over the years.
Merlin could see Arthur clearly even as he hopped and swam among the other frogs in the same way that he had seen Gwen when she was a deer, but that didn't make it easy to catch him. He was fast and slippery. Merlin and Arthur played a game of chase around the pond for awhile.
"You're an even bigger pain as a frog than you are as a king!" exclaimed the now soaking wet and still empty-handed Merlin.
Merlin thought back to his childhood when frog-catching had been a popular sport among the boys of his village. He did the same thing now as he did then to win the frog-catching competition; he used magic. "Inbringe, cume mec."
Arthur floated through the air, legs kicking. It would have almost been a comical sight if not for the seriousness of the situation.
With a squirming Arthur in his hands, Merlin looked around for the witch, who seemed long gone. "I don't know who did this," he called, "but you had better turn him back before all the knights of Camelot descend on your precious swamp!"
If the witch was in hearing distance, his threat didn't have much of an effect. The thing to do was to take Arthur back to Camelot before a bird or snake decided Arthur would make a tasty meal and then figure out how to undo this enchantment.
He was going to have two horses to take back to Camelot. He didn't exactly see Arthur riding one as a frog as amusing as it might look. "I'm not going to enjoy this anymore than you are," he told Arthur, who had calmed down some. Merlin opened his pocket wide and dropped Arthur into it. The frog king was back to his mad struggle now that he was in Merlin's pocket, but it seemed to be a good, snug fit.
Merlin tied a rope around the neck of Arthur's horse. Then he carefully mounted his own horse being extra cautious not to crush Arthur in the process. He took his reins in one hand and in the other hand he held the rope. With a soft jerk of the reins, he began a slow trek back to Camelot.
Merlin checked every couple minutes to make sure Arthur hadn't suffocated or dried out in his pocket. He hadn't gotten very far before Arthur jumped put of his pocket and onto the ground. The frog king began a mad dash back toward the pond, the place his little frog brain thought was home.
"Maybe Gwen could just build a house beside the pond and you could rule the kingdom from your pond," Merlin grumbled as he jumped down from his horse and went running after the king.
