He supposed they had been lucky so far. Arthur shook his head. And it had been bound to expire at some point. As he surveyed the wreckage of what had been his bedchambers compared with what was now splintered furniture, loose feathers, scraps of cloth, rumbled clothes and bed linens, he knew the time to pretend had run out.

"Sire, I'm so sorry," Gaius gasped, taking in the damage. "I—"

"Tomorrow and the next few days after that, Gaius," Arthur began in a cool voice, "Merlin is yours and Jeremy's responsibility. I'm going hunting." He didn't care that it made him seem like a cold arse. It was, really, for the better if Gaius didn't catch on to his planning. And if they thought that he was throwing a fit over his demolished room, so be it. "Jeremy, tell whatever servant is outside to send for a carpenter. In the meanwhile, find replacements for—" He waved a hand at everything. "There should be furniture in guest room sin the North Wing that's not going to be used for quite some time. Bring it here."

Jeremy nodded and rushed to relay his orders while Gaius wrung his hands and looked more miserable than Arthur had seen him in years.

Arthur sighed, wishing to relent, instead settling for, "Gaius, should you wish for some time off, take it. I don't blame you for Merlin's...accident."

"Sire, it was my trying to feed him that potion tha—"

He shook his head. "Think nothing of it. I shall see if Morgana can spare Guinevere for a time. And if not, you have my permission to recruit Lancelot, Gwaine, or Leon. I trust their discretion."

Gaius' shoulders sloped more, but he nodded, and with Jeremy's help, they coaxed a wailing Merlin to his feet and from the room.

Arthur immediately packed a bag of supplies, ordered a horse ready for him at first light, consulted his list of names and the map once more before secreting it into his satchel as well. He then slipped into the ruins of his mattress for what sleep he could catch to prepare him for he following days of sorcerer hunting. The hunting bit wasn't a complete lie then, after all.

He set out when the sun was still fat on the horizon, plain-clothed and sober as he went over the million ways to approach this scenario. It would be better, he realised, to not reveal who he was at first. Maybe not ever. His eyes landed on some berries, and he pursed his lips and dismounted to gather them for later. They might do well to disguise his hair. The trip started well, and was, Arthur was surprised to realise, relaxing. Camping under the open stars was pleasant despite the early summer chill. Arthur stretched out next to the fire and drifted off.

The next night was just as warm, but the third, rain drove him indoors to the closest inn he could find. He was a little bit thankful when it rained the final leg of his journey, so he could trudge up to the house after berry-dying his hair to be a night's shelter.

"Hello?"

Arthur gave the woman his most charming smile, hunching his shoulders as Merlin always had when he was shy about asking for something. "Hullo. I was wondering if I might beg a spot of you floor for the night?"

The woman's flat expression never changed as she gave him a once-over. "I suppose."

"Thanks so much. Can I tether my horse out here?"

"Sure."

"Thank you..."

"Susanne Gladdance. Welcome."

Arthur turned away and tended to his horse, tucking his saddle and gear into the dry barn. "Thank you so much for your hospitality."

"Mm-hm." She stepped back to allow him in. "Are you hungry?"

"Oh, I brought—"

"I have enough if you'd care to share our meal."

Arthur grinned, glad to hear she was not the only one at home. "Thank you." The name was right, so far.

"Gerard! We have a guest!" She bellowed as she led Arthur to a back room where a man and a boy a few years younger than Arthur sat at the table. "This is... I'm sorry. What did you say your name was?"

"I didn't. I'm Ar—len. Arlen. A pleasure.""

"Where you from, Arlen?" The man asked, fixing dark eyes on him. "You sound like city."

"Oh. Um. Yes."

"Camelot?"

Arthur blinked. "How did you know?"

The man smiled, but it wasn't happy. "Spent some time there in my younger days."

"I see. Well, I'm sure it's mostly the same," he offered casually, sitting in the free chair.

"No. I'm sure it's quite different..." he countered, a far-off expression covering his face.

"Hm," Arthur agreed, furtively watching for signs of magic. "Time does much to change a place, I suppose."

"And people. There were things that happened that made it—"

"Gerard!" The wife interrupted, dropping a cooked fowl on the table louder than necessary.

The man smiled sheepishly and carved the bird.

Arthur enjoyed dinner, but waited until he could corner the man outside the next morning to ask his question. Though he was relieved when it came naturally to the conversation.

"Good morning, Arlen!"

"Morning."

"So... What's a Camelot man doing so far outside his borders?"

Arthur laughed, sobering quickly. "Well... I have this friend, you see. And he's ill. He was cursed, actually. And I don't know what to do for him. He..." Arthur let his real grief trickle in. "He's not the same man I knew."

"Ah. I see."

"So," Arthur watched him from beneath his lashes, "It wasn't exactly coincidence that brought me here."

Gerard kept shovelling hay calmly. "Oh?"

"Yes. I was hoping... Gerard Gladdance, that you might be able to provide me some assistance."

"Were you know?"

"Yes."

"Well, I know nothing of medicine."

"Magic, Sir."

Gerard finally ceased and looked at Arthur. "Asking these types of questions is treason to your own laws, boy."

"I would risk it. For him."

"You think your love is that strong?"

He coloured. "He's... dear to me. And if you cannot help him and I am discovered, he will not know because his mind is wrecked."

Offering a sad smile, the tension in Gerard's frame melted away. "I can hardly incite a fire with my talents any longer, Arlen. And even if I were at full strength, I doubt I would have the ability to cure illnesses of the mind. I am truly sorry. Your trip was wasted."

Arthur bowed his head. "Thank you for your honesty. I... I need to return home them. You have my word that no one will know the reason I've stopped here or of what we spoke. You are safe."

Gerard nodded, returning to his shovelling. "I believe you."

"Do you..."

"Yes?"

"Is there anyone that you might recommend to me that might be of help for my... problem?" Arthur asked.

The man gave him the same assessing gaze his wife had the previous night. "This is a dangerous question you a—"

"I know. But there has to be something to help him! He... he could do it himself if he weren't so..." Arthur gave up and let his hands drop with a thwack against his thighs.

"You are in earnest about this?"

Arthur just threw him a look.

Gerard chuckled. "I might recommend you to families with surnames beginning with E's, S's, L's, and R's. And all of them are listed in the—"

"I have a list," Arthur interrupted.

"Very well. Then you should know where to look. I wish you luck on your quest."

"Thank you." Arthur nodded and made his way home to Camelot.

He stopped by Gaius' first when he arrived. "How is he?"

Gaius turned to him in surprise. "Welcome home, Sire. Your..." He frowned at him. "Your hair, Sire, is—"

"Don't worry about it. How has he been?"

The physician sighed and shrugged. "The same. Worse when you aren't here, I think. He misses you and becomes restless."

"Thank you, Gaius," he returned dryly with a half-smile. "I am guilted."

This brought a small laugh from the man. "That was not my intent, Sire."

"Of course not. Jeremy is helpful?"

"Yes! Yes, he has been extremely helpful. Thank you."

"Of course."

"They are out now. With the dogs. I think it helps Merlin. To be with creatures. It seems to provide a soothing effect better than any potion I've concocted thus far."

Arthur nodded. "Good, good. Well, I need to unpack and bathe."

"How was hunting, Sire?"

He tilted his head in thought. "Unsucessful for the most part. The future holds promise, however."

"A shame."

"Yes." And Arthur left, ordering a bath, unpacking while he waited for the water to come.


The bath was refreshing and perfect. The meeting with his father was horrendous and soul-atrophying. He stalked down the hall, angry at his father, angry with Morgana for being difficult, angry at his knights for changing up the routine, angry at Jeremy for laughing with Merlin, angry with Merlin for being so dumb, angry with Merlin for being so self-sacrificing all the time, angry with Merlin for not being himself, angry with Merlin for being too affectionate, angry with Merlin for not smiling properly... Generally he was angry.

He tucked himself into an alcove and just breathed to settle his emotions. Merlin always seemed to feed off of them. And if he was going to see him again later, he would need to be calm.

"Are you hiding, my lord?"

Arthur turned towards Gwen, returning her smile. "Hardly. Composing and collecting myself? Yes."

"I was glad to hear of your return."

Arthur joined her in the hallway proper and fell in step with her towards his chambers.

"You've seen Merlin?"

"I have. Just pried myself away from him."

She smiled and nodded. "He's missed you."

"Oh?"

"Yes. He kept asking, 'Arthur? Arthur gone? Where Arthur? Want Arthur!' He was rather upset about it."

"He seems to be getting on with Jeremy well. I've chosen a good keeper..."

"Arthur..." Gwen said, turning towards him in one of her rare moments of true honesty and perception. "Jeremy is just a substitute. Just you watch. Merlin will be running to your rooms before long."

He burst out laughing. "Thank you, Guinevere. That was... Lovely. Thank you."

She smiled. "Honestly... How could you have thought anything different."

"I'm sorry, Gwen. I've been a bit of a beast. I didn't—it wasn't the best of hunting trips."

She nodded slowly as if trying to discern the secret, smiling when she had not. "I see. Well, I shall see you later, Sire."

Arthur nodded and slipped into his room, pulling out his lists and rearranging his plans until dinner.