Next Chapter: Arthur tries to be sneaky and gets his ego shot down. Merlin tries to be sneaky and gets away with it because he's an idiot.
Arthur notices a familiar red jacket slipping through the lower halls that evening and immediately decides to follow. His reports couldn't possibly be more interesting that wherever his ever-getting-himself-into-trouble manservant is headed at this time of night. It certainly is not his room.
Running to catch up he grabs Merlin's arm just as the man makes to slip into the courtyard. Merlin, in response, shakes him off and turns to face him with a scowl.
"What?"
Arthur scowls back. "Where are you going?"
Merlin hesitates a second and says, "Herb gathering."
"At night?" Arthur raises his eyebrows.
He's pretty sure he smells a lie but Merlin's explanation is delivered to him almost as soon as Arthur closes his mouth. "It's the only time I have with all the work you give me. Besides, some plants are best gathered by moonlight."
"That's funny. I thought I just saw Gaius coming in with a basketful of your plants."
Merlin shrugs and smiles idiotically. "He forgot some."
"He… forgot."
Merlin nods.
"Gaius forgot some herbs."
"Um… yes."
"Merlin-" Arthur sighs. Calling Merlin out on his lie won't make it any easier to determine what he actually IS doing. "… You're an idiot sometimes."
"Hey! It's not my fault, you clotpole!"
"Just hurry up. I have reports waiting for me and I want a hot bath as soon as I'm done with them."
Merlin turns from where he'd begun walking away and bows low and mockingly. "I'll be sure to have one waiting for you in the morning, sire.
"Merlin!" Arthur calls at his retreating back.
Turning away Arthur ducks down a side corridor and hurries to the front gates just in time to see Merlin pass a word or two with the guards.
He waits a moment and then comes abreast of the guards himself.
"Your Majesty!"
"Guards." He acknowledges their salutes in response. "The man who came through here just now. Where did he say he was going?"
"Merlin? Well…." The Guard's eyes flick away down the street and back up to his King's face. "He asked me not to say, in event you came looking for him…"
"And who is your king? Myself? Or Merlin?"
"Well…" another glance towards where the man in question had disappeared into the night. Arthur is getting seriously annoyed. Imagine! One's guards being more loyal to a servant than their King! The guard sighs. "He won't like it, but your's is the right sire. I'll be telling you."
"Well?"
"He said he was headed down to the tavern an' he didn't know quite when he'd be back."
Arthur nods stiffly and sweeps past the gate with an imperious stride. Well that explained why Merlin hadn't wanted Arthur to know where he was going. And to be fair Merlin was technically off duty. But, still!
With Merlin's luck he'd find himself brained in by the first drunken swing of a barfight.
Merlin enters the Rising Sun with a cautious swagger. Taking a seat in the near corner he scans the crowd with an eye practiced in seeking out irregularities. At first glance no one stands out. Oh, there are plenty of patrons looking for buddies, business partners, or a pretty girl, but none of them seem to be looking for Merlin.
Then, a sturdy fellow with home-spun clothes and a rough, but full beard staggers across the room towards Merlin's corner. Only Merlin seems to notice that the man isn't really drunk at all, and a flash of light against a familiar ring only confirms his suspicions.
Gilli has arrived.
"It's a good night for it, eh Mate?" There are fumes on his breath but his eyes are stone cold sober as the sorcerer sidles up to the warlock and slips something into his hand under the guise of slapping him on the back.
"Take a look at that! She's a beauty, no mistake!" Again, his eyes roam over the body of a plump barmaid, while his hand gestures under the table for Merlin to put away the contents of the pouch.
Gilli takes a hearty swig from the flask at his hip, blinks, looking truly drunk now, and then topples over. Merlin hauls him more or less upright and drags him outside and down a nearby alleyway. A few minutes later, his fellow in magic is coming to grinning wildly.
"Merlin, Mate! I almost thought you weren't going to show. This was the last night I was to risk being in town!"
Merlin blinks. "Just what did you put in that flask?"
Gilli smiles. "Just a little something I became all too well acquainted with same time I learnt my letters."
Merlin doesn't ask, but Gilli hears the unasked curiosity and, looser of lip than usual, tells his friend anyway.
"Slave traders. Picked me up for my magic. They couldn't control me. I didn't have enough for their manacles to work. Sure this drink blocked my magic but they couldn't use it either. The potion is cheap. They sold me as a Potential to some noble wanting a status symbol to impress his neighbors. His daughter taught me to read and write. When the time came she replaced this potion with a harmless one. A few opened locks later and I was free. She sure was something though…"
Gilli nods once firmly as if to cement the memories more firmly in his mind.
"But that's not what I came for. Take a look at that in there. What do you think?"
Merlin fishes the pouch out of his jacket and lets the medallion inside fall into his hand. Immediately he hisses, letting the metal fall to the cobblestone.
"Gilli? What is that?"
Gilli shrugs. "We don't know. There's shadow creatures stalking magic users all over the five kingdoms though. The death toll is up into the hundreds and only one has been killed. It left that behind. Unfortunately the sorceress who did it died in the attempt and no one knows how she managed it.
Merlin grimaces. "You said that stuff doesn't let magic slip out?"
Arthur pulls up short in across the street from The Rising Sun. As he gathers his last shreds of decorum he watches two men stagger in the open doors, practically holding eachother up.
Disgusting.
With one last sigh he pulls his cloak over his head and strides in. His eye is immediately drawn to the corners. He's only ever personally seen Merlin drunk once, but based on that, admittedly biased, encounter Arthur can only imagine his servant moping in a corner somewhere.
There are many small corners brimming with men and it thus takes several minutes before his eyes are drawn to a familiar skinny frame surrounded by a happy crowd of boisterous men.
Arthur nearly cries out in anger, only catching himself at the last minute. He slips closer. Merlin is arm in arm with a stocky, round-faced, thick-bearded fellow who looks vaguely familiar though Arthur can't put his finger on it.
"Marcy! Bring us another!"
Merlin's voice is thick with drink and emotion. He sways slightly where he stands on a bench and Arthur can tell he is going to fall off soon. That doesn't stop the man from belting out in a fine tenor,
"I am going away, for to see, for to see;
a bonny dear lass who precious to me;
She will sit on my knee as I hold her so tight;
and I'll sleep well beside her here 'neath the moonlight."
Arthur maneuvers his way around the crowd attracted by either Merlin's voice or whatever his companion is doing out of sight behind the pressed bodies. Coming in from behind it is slightly less crowded and Arthur manages to acquire a front row position just in time to see his servant's friend slam down what looks like his tenth pint of beer and call for another. A burly merchant across the table does the same, and then almost gently lays his head across his arms and falls asleep.
Cheers break out and in the confusion Arthur yanks Merlin down from the table and drags him protesting out of the tavern.
"Hey! Wha're'y'doin?"
"I'm dragging you out of here before you get in trouble you can't get out of."
"'m fine! Let…let…?"
"See Merlin?" Arthur gives him a little shake at the collar to make his point. "You don't even know what you're trying to say."
Merlin's eyes are unfocused but still bright, reflecting the golden glow of the lamplights that line the main road. "v' course I dow. 'v' got sumpin t' tell you."
Arthur sighs and merely adjusts his hold on Merlin's coat to get a stronger grip. Sometimes he wonders if Merlin's bouts of wisdom are actually just spouts of folklore mixed with an over zealous imagination and too much booze. It would certainly explain a few things. How the man is at his most incomprehensible both when trying to explain where he got his wisdom and when trying to explain where he's been when Arthur knows he's been at the tavern.
His reverie is broken by a heavy tapping on his arm.
"Yes Merlin?"
"'v' got sumpin t' tell you. Yor not goin' t' like it."
What do you think? Comments, complements and esp. critiques always welcome!