Arthur returned to Gaius' rooms, however, Gwen falling in step beside him, her dark face pinched as it so often was these days.
"How is Morgana?" he asked, not really caring, just seeking to fill the silence between them.
"Not sleeping."
"Oh. That's rather rotten."
"Mm. You don't look like you're faring much better," she murmured.
He shook his head. "Stress."
"This has been stressful on all of us, Sire."
"Not all of you have my father as both a king and parent," Arthur retorted, feeling mean. But Gwen huffed a laugh instead, and Arthur's day brightened just a little.
"He's not going to get better, is he?" Gwen asked after half a staircase of muffled steps.
Arthur's eyes fell on the spot where Merlin had tumbled at the bottom of the stairs. "No. Shit. Oh, sorry, Guinevere. Pardon my language."
"It is a bit shit, isn't it?" she echoed wryly.
He stared at her. "Guinevere! I'm surprised at you!"
She only offered him a small smile that did not reach her eyes. "Yes, well. Aren't we both."
"I don't know what to do for him" he offered.
"Be kind. He takes everything so literally. He needs kind words. Touch."
He felt himself flushing slightly. "He is rather simple these days, isn't he..."
"Arthur..."
"It's true, and you know it." He shrugged. "It's just how it is. I don't mean it harshly. It's Merlin for pity's sake."
She nodded and opened Gaius' door to let them both in.
"Arthur," Gaius sighed, looking for all the world, dead but still moving. The guilt Gaius had subtly admitted wrought all over his face and in his stance and he stood dripping and wrestling with a naked Merlin.
Gwen squeaked and looked away. Arthur quickly averted his eyes as well. "What happened?"
"Arthur, could you... could you help, please? I can't... I can't hold him."
He obliged, crushing Merlin against his chest. "What happened?" He repeated.
"Merlin. What else?"
Upon mention by name, the man burbled into Arthur's chest, scrunching his hands into Arthur's hair, and essentially wrapping himself around him like an eel. Arthur sighed. "Yes, but specifically."
"He knocked into the leech tank, spilling the foul water all over himself and the floor. So he needed a bath. Especially when he kept insisting on hugging me."
"I see," Arthur said flatly. "And you're certain there's nothing you can do."
"Sire," Gaius began heavily, his voice full of barely constrained frustration, "I can do absolutely nothing in this situation. If I could have, I would. Believe you me. I have become nothing more than a glorified nanny to Merlin ever since he's recovered and regained his energy. In fact, the only person who probably could remedy the situation would be Merlin himself. He's the only one that I know who has both the skill and the power for such a task."
Arthur sighed. "And once again, Merlin, you prove yourself utterly useless..."
"Sire..."
He waved it away, petting Merlin's head with his other hand. "You know I don't mean it, Gaius."
"Perhaps someone ought to get Merlin some clothes," Gwen suggested, her back still turned.
Arthur jumped and Gaius shuffled off to find something clean to cover Merlin's nudity. "Merlin, Merlin. What are we going to do with you..." He breathed tiredly.
"Hug!" Merlin chirped, squeezing tighter.
Arthur yelped as a hand caught his bum, and he cuffed Merlin's head reflexively. "Why. Is it. That the only thing you can manage to think about is sex!"
Gazing up at him with watery blues, Merlin slid to the ground, lip quivering.
"Oh gods. Don't—don't cry. Again. You'd think I'd be used to it by now..."
"What did we say about kind words?" Gwen said archly.
"Thank you. For that." He pushed Merlin off him as Gaius returned and helped wrap him up in one of Gaius' clean robes. When he stepped back, he prompted burst out laughing.
Gwen whirled around and joined in immediately, spurred on by Gaius' shaking shoulders.
Merlin, looking around uncertainly at first, then joined in enthusiastically, the sound bright and childish. It would have been perfect, had it not sounded forced, so Arthur sobered quickly. "I'll fetch something from his room."
"No, Sire. Don't worry about it. I'll get it," Gwen offered quickly and then left before he could stop her.
Arthur sighed and stared down at Merlin. "What are we going to do with you, Merlin."
Merlin only grinned and waved his arms, Gaius' great sleeves flapping manically.
"Did you want help with the leech tank, Gaius?" Arthur asked absently. "I can get someone to come in, when I can't, to help you with Merlin."
"Sire, I hardly think that's necessa—"
"You just admitted to being unable to keep up with him, Gaius. And as much as I appreciate sloppy kisses in the morning, not so much when they're from Merlin. This is nothing against you, Gaius. I've appreciated your work more than I've ever said. Sorry for that, I suppose. It's been...remiss of me. I just think... Well, you've your own work to attend, and I mine. So extra help for keeping him...contained, I think, might be in order."
Gaius gave him a tired smile. "Thank you, Arthur."
"Of course," he replied, grabbing the back of Merlin's neck as he tried to climb up onto the table, waving a spoon around wildly.
Later that night, as he stared up at his canopy, once again in the thralls of sleeplessness, something Gaius had said got him thinking. Somewhere out in the world, there had to be someone else with both the power and the skill for 'such a task.' He worried his lip as his hands stretched up to clasp behind his head to let the thought stretch out. Merlin had always been a special case. His father's grateful leniency coming to a close with Merlin's uselessness. If Merlin were able to resume his duties, then his father would, of course, keep him around. Magic, of course, was conveniently a thing that was not spoken of for fear of being discovered, turned in, arrested, and ultimately executed. Thus, finding a sorcerer was going to be next to impossible. This had nothing to do with the fact that Arthur was the crown prince of Camelot. Thus the task would be so far beyond impossible, that impossible had begun to look easy. He set it aside for later pondering and planning and rolled over to try and sleep.
It was only after a week of Guinevere telling him she'd found Merlin yelling 'Bath! Bath! Washing bubbles!" gleefully whilst splashing in the fountain in the courtyard, Leon informing him with Saint-like patience (he'd knight the man twice if he could) that Merlin was currently inciting mock battles amongst the armour in the armoury (thank the gods it was Leon and not one of the newer knights), Gaius panting that Merlin was licking peoples' hands as he could find them, Morgana shrieking that Merlin dressing up in her jewellery, veils, and scarves and then attempting to hide beneath her skirts was not okay no matter how simple he was, Lancelot breathlessly hauling a sobbing Merlin to him after he'd nearly leapt off the ramparts because he wanted to 'Fly! Birds! Merlin up!", the cook bellowing at him to keep better track of crazy Lord Merlin who encouraged their fires to whirl and whisper, Gwaine shrugging apologetically with a wide grin that he found Merlin pretending to be a dog—taking a dump, and his father speaking volumes of his disapproval through scathing glances, unmuted sighs, frown lines, and raised eyebrows that Arthur decided to seriously seek out someone who might be able to help Merlin.
Merlin who was currently whimpering because his wrist was tethered firmly to Arthur's desk and he couldn't reach his toes to his mouth, if Merlin's strangely-lifted leg and reaching mouth were any indication.
Arthur looked away, pain flaring up in his heart. Merlin was better than this. His eyes were dull. His tousled hair no longer endearing, instead merely messy. With what looked like twigs snagged in it. All signs of his sharp intelligence gone.
"Merlin! Stop that," Arthur snapped tiredly.
Merlin gave him his now-familiar-hurt-frozen-deer look and pouted. Arthur, effectively guilted.
"You're not the least bit cute, you know that?"
Merlin just tilted his head, moving to shift before glancing at the rope holding his wrist in confusion. "Merlin like horse? Wrong." He frowned and tugged it.
"Stop it, Merlin." Arthur didn't bother looking up from his work.
"Aaaaaaaarthuuuur..." Merlin tugged some more, grunting. He wrapped his other hand around the rope, yelping when he probably pinched his skin.
"Merlin"
He scooted away from the desk and stood, listing to one side before giving a sharp tug of his tied arm. "Ow! Ow! Merlin ow ow ow!"
"Merlin, stop it."
"Ow! Ow!" His cries grew louder as he pulled again and again.
"Merlin! Stop it! You're going to injure yourself!" He thumped a fist on his desk.
Merlin jumped. "Loud! Noise! Loud noises!" Merlin chanted, stomping his feet on the ground. "Dancing! Want Arthur!"
He grit his teeth. "I'm. Right. Here, Merlin."
"Aaaaaaarthuuuuuuurrr," Merlin giggled, fisting his hand in his tunic, the other waving around in the air as if with a mind of its own.
Arthur sighed. "Merlin, can't you please just be quiet for a short while? Let Arthur work?"
"Merlin play! Booooooring..." He wriggled, pulling at his tied wrist.
Massaging his temple, Arthur suppressed his groan. "How about this, Merlin," he said suddenly, smiling brightly. "How about we play a game!"
"Game!" he shrieked happily. "Game game gamegamegame—"
"Yes. The goal of the game is to see who can not talk for the longest period of time. Understand?"
Merlin nodded frantically, a wide grin spreading his lips. "Merlin gonna win!"
"Aand, starting...now!" Arthur forced the wide grin, feeling slightly bad about tricking his friend. He felt less badly when the game lasted only about twenty minutes. He sighed and rose. "Merlin. How about we go for a run. You remember how to run, right?" He had to get this extra energy out of him somehow.
"Run run run! Running!" Merlin was on his feet and flailing about with apparent excitement.
Steadying him, Arthur made sure his boots were on and then lead Merlin down to the practice fields, encouraging him to run the perimeter with him, again, and again, and again, until Arthur was exhausted and Merlin threw himself on the ground with a stubborn cry of "No more! Merlin not running!" So Arthur relented and deposited him into the hands of Gaius and Jeremy, the help that Arthur had appointed to him in dealing with Merlin, and instructed them to bathe him whilst Arthur went back to his room to finish his work.
Work of the usual nature, and work that he daren't entrust to another soul. He could have easily asked Gaius for recommendations of other powerful sorcerers. But he didn't want to take the risk of implicating another should this all fail and fall flat, exposed at his feet. Worrying his lip, Arthur pulled out the records he had secreted from the library while Geoffrey had been distracted thanks to some pulled favours and recommendation promises to servants. Unfortunately it had taken him longer than planned to find the appropriate volume, so he had been required to sneak past Geoffrey on hands and knees. His face flushed at the memory, a little bit loving the thrill it had provided, a little bit hating the embarrassment it would cause if he were discovered.
The lists of names dragged on over the pages, careful and almost apologetic in Geoffrey's script. Names of people, comma, age, comma, sorcerer, comma exiled-burned-beheaded-whatever punishment his father had dictated. He swallowed. There were few who had been exiled. Presumably, those had been the early days. So he would start close. Hunting trips to get his mind off of Merlin and his duties. And his father's blatant disapproval.
So Arthur stayed up late, the candles burning low, making lists. And lists. Exiles to the north. Exiles to the south. Exiles to the east. Exiles to the west. Numbered closed to furthest. These things, of course, required planning.
