Under Love's Spell: Chapter 7

It had been two days.

Two whole days, and Merlin still hadn't figured out a way to get the love potion from Morgana's room.

Part of the problem was that Morgana had rarely ventured outside of her chambers in the past forty-eight hours. Every time Merlin had shown up and listened at the door, he could hear her rustling around.

Merlin had surmised that she was probably in there casting spells or practicing incantations (in actuality, she was usually just brushing her hair or taking a nap…but there was no way Merlin could know that).

On the occasions when Morgana did leave for dinner, Merlin couldn't sneak into her room because he was required to attend to Arthur.

Speaking of Arthur, Merlin could hear the exasperated Prince shouting his name from across the practice field.

Merlin pretended not to hear his masters' call. He was in no mood to listen to whining or to have something chucked at his head.

If Arthur needed something badly enough, then he could get it himself.

Merlin began to brainstorm ways in which to divert Morgana's attention.

He briefly thought about enlisting the help of Gwen, but then quickly vetoed the idea. Morgana was dangerous, and he didn't want to put Gwen in harm's way.

"Merlin!" Arthur yelled a bit louder since he was quite a distance away.

Again, Merlin didn't answer. For a moment, he fantasized about changing his name to something else so that when Arthur shouted, he could say, "Sorry, there's no Merlin here. Go bother someone else."

If he thought about it, Merlin could admit that his name was sort of dreary. Who wanted to be named after a small bird when there were much stronger, nobler names out there?

Names like Lancelot.

Or Gwaine.

Those were names befitting a knight.

Merlin reminded himself that he could have never been a knight who followed the chivalric code. For one thing, he wasn't a big fan of rules. For another, he had had a different path set in front of him from the moment of his birth.

The name Merlin isn't so bad, he decided. Merlins were creatures that relied on speed and agility in order to catch their prey.

Besides, his mother had named him, and Merlin loved his mother with all his heart.

Merlin is not your only given name, an inner voice reminded him. The prophecies have foretold of your coming, Emrys.

Merlin shuddered. He did not have time to think about Mordred or the druids. He had more immediate problems to deal with.

For starters, how was he going to get Morgana out of the way?

He bounced several ideas around in his head.

He could set fire to her room

He talked himself out of it. Morgana's room had already been set on fire. Another one would look suspicious and could lead to an investigation.

He could send her a fake letter from Morgause asking for a meeting in the woods.

Too risky. Morgana would eventually figure out the truth, and then she would want to know who was responsible for the deception.

He could arrange for her to go out on an outing.

Merlin snapped his fingers. That last one could work. But of course, Morgana could not go alone. She would need a chaperone.

In these dangerous times, the chaperone would have to be a male. Preferably one that Morgana knew fairly well. She probably wouldn't go out with some nameless knight.

Merlin decided that the only two men who fit the criteria were Uther and Arthur. Merlin ruled out Uther straight away because Morgana might try to kill him again if they were alone together.

That left Arthur.

Merlin could send the two siblings off together and be fairly certain that they would both return alive.

Merlin sighed. He would need to talk to the dollop head after-all.

Merlin glanced across the field and saw that Arthur was fast approaching. Arthur's face was bright red. Merlin hoped that the crimson hue was more the result of physical exertion and not anger, but he could not be entirely sure.

"Merlin!" Arthur bellowed when he got close enough. "Are you deaf, or are your ears so filled with wax that you did not hear my call?"

"Sorry sire," Merlin apologized.

"I don't know what's with you Merlin, but your head has been in the clouds all week," Arthur astutely observed.

"Have you noticed that Morgana has been acting strangely as of late?" Merlin said getting straight to the point.

Arthur shot Merlin a knowing glance. "I thought we'd already been through this."

Merlin was confused, "Been through what?"

"You know," Arthur lowered his voice, "Your affections for the Lady Morgana. I've told you before that it can never be between the two of you."

A wave of longing hit Merlin as he heard Arthur say Morgana's name.

It's just the love potion, Merlin reminded himself.

"I don't have affections for Morgana," he insisted.

We just kissed passionately in her room; Merlin could not halt that particular train of thought.

"Give me a little credit," Arthur said. "I've known you long enough now to realize when something is not quite right. You've been distracted recently. You nearly fainted in the Great Hall when Morgana entered."

"Perhaps I was afflicted with an illness," Merlin started to say.

"I checked. I asked Gaius if something was wrong with you, and he said 'No more than usual,'" Arthur cut him off.

A part of Merlin was touched that Arthur had gone to the trouble to ask about his welfare. It seemed as though the young Prince was maturing a little bit each and every day.

"Putting aside my feelings, whatever they might be, can you at least acknowledge that something about Morgana's behavior has been off?" Merlin tried to steer the conversation back on track.

Arthur pondered the statement for a moment. "I supposed she has been a bit moody."

Merlin nodded his agreement.

"She has also been very short-tempered with me," Arthur continued. "One minute she gives me a bracelet as a gift, and the next she is demanding to know what happened to it. Also, I asked her to help me do a favor for the king, and she snapped and said, 'You're his favorite child, I'm sure you can handle it yourself.'"

Merlin was surprised Morgana hadn't been more subtle in expressing her jealousy over Uther's favoritism of Arthur.

"Do you think she is still trying to deal with what happened to her during the year she was away?" Arthur asked in a concerned tone.

"It's very possible. Being abducted is not something that a person just gets over. It takes time to heal," Merlin said wisely.

"What do you think I should do to help her? Offer to listen? Buy her a present? Jewelry instead of a dagger this time?"

"All excellent suggestions," Merlin began, "but the thing I think Morgana would most enjoy is if you took her out…on a hunt."

"A hunt?" Arthur snorted. "You want me to take an emotionally fragile woman on a hunt?"

Going on a hunt would suit Merlin's purposes perfectly. It would provide him with ample time to sneak in, replace the potion with something benign, and then sneak back out.

"I think a hunt is a great idea. Are you afraid she's going to beat you?" Merlin deliberately antagonized the Prince.

"Of course not," Arthur scoffed. "I practically taught her everything she knows."

Somehow, Merlin doubted that fact.

"I really think Morgana would enjoy being out in the fresh air. The excitement of a hunt could take her mind off things," Merlin pressed the issue.

"I don't disagree," Arthur said at last. "But…"

Merlin sighed. Why did there always have to be a but?

"It may not be safe to leave the walls of Camelot at the moment," Arthur admitted.

"Why not? You don't have to be gone for too long."

Merlin was getting desperate in his attempts to convince Arthur.

Arthur leaned in conspiratorially, "We've had some reports that leaders from the borderlands are growing restless. They may be planning an attack of Camelot as soon as the next full moon."

Merlin did some mental math. "But, the next full moon is less than four weeks away."

Arthur clapped a hand on Merlin's shoulder. "Very good Merlin. You have once again shown your aptitude for stating the obvious."

Merlin rolled his eyes.

"It is less than four weeks away. Therefore, it probably isn't the best idea to go running across the countryside in search of game. I shall take Morgana hunting as soon as the threat of danger has passed."

"If we waited for the threat of danger to pass before we did something, then nothing would ever get accomplished. This kingdom attracts trouble like a flickering light attracts mosquitoes," Merlin blurted out in frustration.

Before he could get yelled at, Merlin lowered his tone and tried to sound more reasonable. "All I'm saying is that a lot can happen in four weeks. Alliances can shift. Treaties can be signed. But, Morgana is hurting now. I don't see the harm in taking her out for a few hours tomorrow."

Arthur stared at Merlin with amusement, curiosity, and perhaps a bit of understanding.

"She really means that much to you?" he asked quietly.

Merlin wasn't quite sure how to answer the question. In some ways, Morgana was the most important person in his life right now.

Instead of going into great detail, Merlin simply nodded.

"Alright then. I shall ask for my father's permission. If he says yes, then I will take Morgana first thing tomorrow morning," Arthur said in a cheerier tone.

Merlin felt some of the nervousness he had been experiencing leave his body. Uther could deny his daughter nothing, so he was positive that Arthur's request would be granted.

"While I'm out tomorrow," Arthur said with a mischievous glint in his eye, "perhaps I will try to find a new servant. One who actually answers when I call," Arthur nudged Merlin with his shoulder.

Merlin wasn't worried. He was used to Arthur's threats. They were meaningless.

"You wouldn't dare get rid of me," Merlin said confidently.

"Oh no?" Arthur's voice rose in pitch. "Why is that?"

"Because, I'm too valuable as a servant," Merlin explained as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "I know how you like your clothes to be folded. I know what temperature you like your bath water to be, and I know what foods you like to eat."

"If by valuable, you mean letting a rat run around my room, scalding my foot with boiling water, and trying to choke me with inedible soup…then yes Merlin, you are the most valuable servant in all of Camelot."

Merlin grinned sheepishly. Anyone could have made those mistakes.

"That's right Merlin. I'm going to find a servant who is obedient, polite, only speaks when spoken to. One who knows how to defend himself and completes his chores in a timely manner…"

"That sounds positively boring," Merlin interrupted. "Besides, do you remember what happened the last time you tried to replace me? I have one word for you…"

"Don't go there," Arthur sighed because he knew exactly what Merlin was going to say.

"Ced-ric," Merlin punctuated each syllable.

"You went there," Arthur rolled his eyes heavenward. Merlin was never going to let him forget that.

"Of course I went there. You tried to replace me with a crook!" Merlin pointed out.

"A crook that put out quite a decent spread," Arthur said remembering the elaborate breakfast he had eaten.

"That's because he poached food that was meant for other people. If you ate like that every day, you wouldn't fit into your armor…" Merlin trailed off. He knew how sensitive Arthur was about his weight.

"Admit it sire," Merlin said quickly, "you like having me around."

"I most certainly do not. I tolerate you at best," Arthur scoffed unconvincingly.

"Please, I've saved your life more times than I can count…"

Arthur put a hand up to protest.

"But, you've saved my life as well," Merlin continued. "We make a good team, you and I."

"I'll admit," Arthur said begrudgingly, "that you've helped me out when I've been in some tight spots—even though I was perfectly capable of handling the situations and would have figured out how to escape by myself. I guess having you around isn't so bad."

Merlin grinned. "Now was that so painful?"

"Excruciating," Arthur grimaced.

"I don't suppose I'll ever get a thank you?" Merlin wondered aloud almost to himself.

"You're my servant Merlin," Arthur reminded him, but not unkindly.

"If I'm just a servant, then why did you have Gwen send me those jugs of mead?" Merlin countered.

"What jugs of mead?" Arthur had no idea what he was talking about.

"I figured you might try to deny it. Gwen brought me some mead and said that you suggested she bring it to me as a token of appreciation for all the work I do for you."

As Merlin finished talking, he could see that Arthur was still confused.

"You have absolutely no idea what I'm talking about do you sire?"

"None. Honestly Merlin, why would I waste perfectly good mead on such a lazy servant?"

Merlin thought about it for a second, "You're right; you wouldn't waste the mead on me," he admitted.

Arthur clapped him on the back, "You're smarter than you look."

"And I'm sure with a bit of increased exercise, you'll be back to your normal size in no time," Merlin couldn't resist taking a shot at Arthur's vanity.

Arthur discretely patted his sides to see if he could detect any added girth. When he was convinced there was none, he replied, "Merlin, what did I tell you before?"

"No one likes a clever clogs," Merlin said in a monotone voice.

"Precisely. Now, the reason I called your name is because I'm ready to start target practice."

Arthur grinned widely and began to walk away.

Merlin groaned. He didn't need to be a genius to figure out who was going to play the role as the target.

He also didn't need to be a genius to figure out who had sent the mead. He would have to ask Gwen for confirmation though.

"Merlin!" Arthur shouted once more.

"Coming!" Merlin said as he finally put his legs into motion.

"Henry," Merlin decided as he jogged to catch up, "I'm changing my name to Henry and I'm moving to the countryside. Somewhere far, far away where Arthur will never find me."

In the back of his mind, Merlin knew that his feelings were only a momentary frustration. Not having to do chores for someone else would be nice. But, a life without Arthur would be…positively boring.


As Merlin walked down the corridor, he did his best to brush off the stubborn dust that clung to his jacket.

After a whole day of training with Arthur, there wasn't a part of his body that didn't hurt in some way.

Merlin was so tired that his mind barely registered the woman walking towards him carrying a large basket of laundry. Before she had a chance to move, Merlin bumped into her and spilled the contents of the basket.

"Gwen, I'm so sorry," Merlin said as he realized who the woman was. "Let me help you with that," Merlin bent down to retrieve some of the articles of clothing; most of which were white and delicate looking. Merlin had a sneaking suspicion these items were Morgana's undergarments, but he did his best not to think about that (he failed miserably).

Gwen took in the state of Merlin's clothing, and immediately forgave his clumsiness, "I'd ask you how training went, but I think I already know," she said genially.

Merlin finished refilling the basket, and stood up, "You know how Arthur is; he would train all day and night if he could."

"Not surprising behavior for a knight, but dreadfully taxing on you," Gwen observed.

"Well, all the hard work might pay off some day," Merlin said thinking of both the outside and inside threats to Camelot.

"Listen Gwen, I'm glad I bumped into you, though perhaps I shouldn't have done it so literally," Merlin started.

Gwen laughed. She found Merlin to be quite amusing.

"I talked to Arthur today, and the thing about the jugs of mead sort of just…came up. He said he didn't ask you to send them."

Gwen immediately looked guilty.

"Were they from you?" Merlin asked even though he sincerely doubted the fact. Gwen was usually pretty forthcoming.

"No," Gwen admitted.

"I didn't think so. But if you didn't send them, and Arthur didn't send them…" Merlin trailed off.

"She'll kill me if she knew I told you. I was sworn to secrecy," Gwen got flustered.

"I don't want you to get into trouble," Merlin paced a bit.

"What if I guess the name; and you either confirm or deny it? That way, you won't technically be breaking your promise of telling me," Merlin came up with a plan at last.

"I guess that would work," Gwen said slowly.

Merlin tapped his fingers on his chin, "Let's see. You said 'she' so that means it's either a woman, or a very, very confused man."

Gwen laughed again, and Merlin was happy that he was succeeding at putting her at ease. She would be less suspicious that way.

"It's a woman then?" Merlin asked.

Gwen nodded.

"That's a relief," Merlin said as he continued to pace. "Is it Lynette from the kitchens? Every time I walk by, she shoves a roll in my pocket because she thinks I'm too skinny."

Gwen vigorously shook her head no.

"Alright then. I don't think her husband would have approved anyway. "

Merlin snapped and turned around, "I bet it's Anna from the lower village. She looks at me like I'm a juicy piece of mutton."

"She looks at everyone that way. She has a problem with her palate that causes excessive drooling," Gwen politely informed him.

"Oh," Merlin said. That explained that mystery.

Merlin was done joking.

"Is it…Morgana?" he said in a voice that was barely above a whisper.

Gwen looked surprised that he had guessed the right answer, but she gave him an ever so subtle nod of her head.

Merlin wouldn't have noticed the movement except he was looking directly at her.

"I see," Merlin said as calmly as possible. He heard guards approaching and knew that he should end the conversation.

"Thanks for being so understanding. Next time, I'll be sure to look where I'm going," Merlin said referring to the laundry basket.

"That's alright Merlin. We don't have to speak of this again," Gwen replied, most-assuredly not referring to the laundry basket.

Merlin gave his own nod, and then hurried away.

It had been a productive (and painful) day. Not only was Arthur going to take Morgana on a hunt tomorrow, but Merlin had figured out how she had gotten him to ingest the love potion.

Morgana had probably been delighted at the ironic twist of fate, Merlin thought begrudgingly.

As Merlin's mind turned to thoughts about different mixtures of ingredients he might need to copy the color of a love potion, he knew just one thing for sure.

From now on, he was going to be pouring his own drinks.