Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin

A/N: Yeah... I don't have any great excuses. I swear I wrote at least 5 different versions of this chapter, but none of them took me in the direction I wanted. If you were hoping that Merlin would get poisoned - not this time, maybe later though.

With Gaius and Arthur stuck all afternoon in the stuffy conference hall, Merlin was free to do as he wished (as long as he didn't let Gilroy catch up with him). After sneaking into Bayard's chambers, it took nearly the whole of two hours to cleanse the chalice of any poison. If nothing else, Merlin had to admit that Nimueh was quite thorough when it came to her spellcasting.

"Merlin!" a seductive voice called to him from down the hall.

Merlin mentally cursed. Of all the times for her to show up... With a sigh, he placed an invisibility spell over the chalice he'd been about to return – it was the quickest way he could think to hide it.

"Kara!" he exclaimed, turning around, a fake smile covering his face. His fingers were slightly curled where they were gripping the goblet; hopefully they didn't look like they were in an unnatural position.

"So you remembered my name!" she gushed.

Merlin had to fight the urge to grimace. He tried to look awkward instead. "Well, it's not like we get many people like you visiting," he said honestly, running a hand through the back of his hair.

Nimueh smiled, pleased.

"Is there something I can help you with?" Merlin asked, hoping his anxiousness to get out of her presence was coming out as puppy-like eagerness. Guinevere had told him once that he made an adorable dog – that had been an awkward experience that both he and Arthur agreed never to mention again.

The wrinkles around her eyes deepened as she gave him a hopeless smile. "Well, since you're Arthur's manservant, I suppose you'd know everything there is to know about this castle. Am I right?"

"Don't I wish," Merlin said pleasantly. "But I'll give it my best. What do you need?"

She opened her eyes so that they were very wide and watery before she put forth her request. "I don't know the way to the library."

Merlin involuntarily narrowed his eyes. "Do you need a book?" he asked.

Nimueh let out a giggle that really didn't suit her. "Not for me, silly. It's for my mistress. She likes to read before going to bed."

"I see," Merlin replied blandly. He wondered what she really wanted the library for. More likely than not, it was a ruse to flirt with him. After all, it wasn't like she wasn't already completely familiar with the castle floor plan. If she needed a book all she had to do was take one.

"Down this corridor, turn right, turn left, down the stairs past the blue tapestry, a right, then the second staircase down," Merlin informed. "Not all that hard, really. Good luck."

"Oh," she looked a little flustered – or maybe the red in her cheeks came from annoyance. "I was hoping you could take me."

Drat. She had to ask.

"I'm very, very sorry," Merlin said, trying put on his 'lost puppy' look again. "But I'm already late – if I see you again I'll help you. I'll do whatever you need!" he promised, mentally crossing his fingers.

"If you say so," she said, looking mildly appeased.

"Of course," he said with a slight bow, then hurried off, still clutching the chalice.

He hoped the look on her face when she found out would be worth the deception.

O o O

After Merlin had replaced the chalice, time seemed to roar past him. All the hours that he'd wanted to use for a nap disappeared in an array of last-minute preparations.

"Nice hat," Gwen said, trying not to laugh as Merlin approached her.

"Luckily for me, I look good in anything," Merlin said, trying not to yawn as he flicked a feather away from his eye. "Unlike them. I don't think red matches their complexion," he gestured towards Uther's manservants. Jasper was shifting in embarrassment, trying to avoid any of the mocking glances aimed in his direction. Baldwin, on the other hand, was standing as stiffly as ever – he probably didn't even realize that he looked ridiculous.

"Right," Gwen snorted, raising her eyebrows.

"Hey, I'm not giving Arthur the satisfaction of thinking I'm uncomfortable," Merlin reminded, giving the prat another blatant grin and a salute as the prince glanced in Merlin's direction. Arthur smirked, but the expression was less certain than Merlin remembered.

"I don't care what you think," Gwen said, looking impressed. "I know I'd be embarrassed."

Merlin grinned. "Anything's better than a cone hat," he replied happily.

"What?" a confused look appeared on Gwen's face.

Merlin only smiled in reply. There was a druid clan Merlin rarely visited, mostly because of the required ceremonial garb, which included a tall, cone-shaped hat. Arthur had actually inhaled wine up his nose after Merlin had been forcefully pushed out of the tent. Yes, Merlin tried to avoid that place as often as he could.

"I'd be more worried about what that girl thinks of you, than Arthur," Gwen said in a lower tone, nodding towards Nimueh.

"Huh? Why?" Merlin asked, trying to act oblivious.

"Well she's very pretty," Gwen said cautiously.

Merlin winced inwardly. Nimueh was making Gwen jealous; that was the last reaction he wanted from his friend. He almost scowled in the witch's direction, before remembering that he didn't want to give himself away just yet.

"Er, well, I suppose," Merlin coughed, once he realized Gwen was waiting for a response.

"You don't think so?" Gwen urged, sounding hopeful.

"I don't really think about girls much," he said honestly. His list of responsibilities, combined with his actual age, made this a much easier task, despite the fact that he was back in a body that was frequently bombarded hormones. Plus, even though he really didn't have Freya at the moment, memories of her served just as well for the time being.

Gwen's face had fallen slightly, and Merlin heaved a sigh of relief. The sooner the future queen lost interest in him, the better.

"Well, she keeps looking this way," she said, ducking her head.

"Really?" Merlin asked, not terribly surprised.

"Did you talk to her at all?" Gwen asked.

"I ran into her a couple times," Merlin replied, "but that's about it."

"You must have made quite the impression," Gwen said, a smile on her face, but her underlying tone was resentful.

"When do I not make an impression?" he asked bluntly. "I can't blame her, really."

Gwen let out a reconciliatory giggle, realizing that Merlin really didn't have any interest in the foreign beauty. "Well, for once, someone seems to think highly of you," she said teasingly.

"For once? What kind of friend are you?" he asked in mock-deprecation.

"Quiet," she said, nudging him. "Uther's standing up."

As Uther began, Merlin couldn't help but think to himself, I can write much more interesting speeches than that. Though, to be honest, the entertaining portions of Merlin's speeches usually were a result of the fact that King Arthur rarely proof-read his speeches before he used them. It wasn't very difficult to slip in a subtle line that poked at the king – and half the time, Arthur wouldn't even realize what he'd read aloud until two sentences later. A sea of snickering would ensue, and only the old bloodlines of nobility ever bothered to keep their faces straight. Gwaine would always make it a point to laugh the loudest, no matter how dull the joke was. The laughter always made Arthur suspect that Gwaine had put Merlin up to it, not realizing that Gwaine wasn't even aware that Merlin wrote the king's speeches (hardly anyone was). After a time, Arthur finally learned his lesson, and Merlin was let off the hook of speech-writing. Then he was appointed Court Sorcerer and he was forced to write speeches for himself.

People around him, Gwen included, began clapping and Merlin blinked himself out of his tired daze. Ah, good, the treaty was finally official.

Bayard was now going to start his spiel – he was already motioning for his servants to bring over the goblets. Nimueh too, was beginning to make her move.

It was an awkward conversation with Gwen standing there. "Merlin, I need to speak with you," Nimueh said, ignoring an indignant Gwen, while trying to look as pitiful as possible. "And not here."

"What's wrong?" Gwen asked, not letting her jealousy get in the way of helping someone in need (either that or she really didn't want Merlin to go off alone with the flirty maid).

"Nothing," Nimueh said more sharply than she'd probably intended. "I just need to talk with Merlin."

"It's alright, Gwen," he said soothingly. "I'll be back in a moment."

Nimueh was probably smirking inwardly at that.

"What is it?" he asked quietly as Nimueh dragged him across the room. Gwen was looking depressed. She had probably lost all faith in Merlin, just knowing that he had fallen prey to the Mercian serving girl. She didn't blame him really; Kara was admittedly one of the most beautiful women she'd ever laid eyes on. Who would go for her when there was a a girl like that around?

"Not here," Nimueh repeated forcefully, and she pulled him into the servant's passage that led to the kitchen.

It was suspiciously empty for a servant's passage. When Merlin reached out, he realized that Nimueh had put several warding spells up – the subtle kind, so no one would suspect anything. She really was very good when it came to magic. He refocused his eyes and realized that she was going off about something.

"... and now I don't know what to do. Please help me, Merlin! I didn't know who else to turn to," she turned her eyes up at him desperately.

He shook his head, a dumb expression on his face. "Ah, sorry. Didn't catch any of that really," he said, trying to look apologetic.

A flash of annoyance crossed the witch's face.

"I saw Bayard lacing Arthur's goblet with poison," she said bluntly. Then she went back into her distressed serving-girl mode. "But don't tell anyone I told you! Bayard will kill me if he finds out."

"Why on earth would Bayard do something as stupid as that?" Merlin asked, looking skeptical as possible.

Nimueh gave him a confused look. "He craves for the throne of Camelot – he is not the man he pretends to be. He thinks that killing Arthur will be the ruin of Uther."

"It's still a stupid plan," Merlin scoffed. When Nimueh gave him another confused look, Merlin gave an exasperated sigh and explained, "Look, if I were Bayard, I wouldn't do something so obvious right in front of Uther of all people. The Mercians are wholly outnumbered, and even if the armies do come to rescue them, Uther (being, well, Uther) will probably have them all executed on the spot."

Nimueh stared at him.

"See? Stupid plan," Merlin repeated.

"Bayard isn't known for his brains," she said, changing her tact. "The point is, Arthur will die if he drinks from that goblet."

"I think you must be running on too little sleep," he said, looking concerned as he possibly could. "Are you sure you're feeling well?"

He almost laughed at the expression of murder that flashed across her face.

"Arthur told me that Bayard is one of the sharpest sovereigns around," Merlin said, stringing her on. "I doubt he'd do something so bold, even if he did want Camelot's throne."

"But Arthur is going to be poisoned!" she practically shrieked.

Merlin patted her arm, giving her a look of pity. "If he is, I promise I'll get you out of here unharmed," he said kindly.

"You have to listen to me!" she protested.

"After the banquet starts, I'll get Cook to give you some food," he promised, thoroughly enjoying himself.

Nimueh backed away from him. "I'll show you!" she said in a menacing whisper, then stalked back into the banquet hall.

Merlin jaunted after her, smiling to himself.

Arthur swallowed his portion just as Merlin reentered the room. He nearly crashed into Nimueh, who was watching the scene with malicious anticipation.

"I hope you can live with yourself, Merlin," she spat.

"Being poisoned is a good, character-building experience," Merlin joked. Then he gestured towards the table. "Besides, he looks fine to me."

Nimueh narrowed her eyes. Even with the delayed effects of the poison, it was true that Arthur, who was cheering with the rest of the room, should have collapsed face-first into the table by then.

"See?" Merlin said. "You're just a little tired. Maybe you just saw him taking the goblets out to clean – heaven knows that's all they're good for."

Nimueh's aged face had turned a pale shade of red. Merlin fancied that she was trying to hold in a scream of outrage.

"Let's go get you something to eat," Merlin said, taking a hold of her arm. "I think I can get away with leaving for a little while."

Nimueh yanked her arm away from him. "How is this possible?" she asked hoarsely, her eyes livid as she aimed them in Arthur's direction.

"Strange, huh?" Merlin agreed. "For once, there was a banquet without an assassination attempt. I'm almost bored."

"Merlin?" she said sweetly. Her tone was dripping in venom.

"Yes, Nimueh?" he answered automatically. They both froze.

"Whoops," he excused himself, not terribly sorry.

Her eyes narrowed. "So... you know who I am," she said blandly. "I'm impressed."

"Don't be. It was nothing really," Merlin answered.

"And you managed to get rid of the poison," she said.

"Obviously," he replied.

"I'm impressed," she repeated.

"I said don't be," he ordered, turning to look at her. "It really was nothing."

Nimueh was wearing a tight-lipped smile.

"So now what?" he asked.

"How did you know who I was?" Nimueh asked.

"Ah, so now we're doing questions and answers," Merlin said with a smile. Then he answered, "Gaius told me about you."

"The old fool," she laughed lightly.

"But he didn't recognize you, so don't bother going after him," Merlin warned.

"If he had known, he would have told Uther," Nimueh reminded coldly.

"True," Merlin said.

They watched the parade of servants come through, carrying the plates of food.

"Oh, would you mind removing the spell off the hallway?" Merlin asked. "It's a pain to have to go around."

"So you noticed," Nimueh said, respect creeping into her voice in spite of herself.

"Of course I did," he snapped. "You've been watching me all month practically – how could you not realize that I'd see something like that?"

After a short moment of silence Merlin sighed, "I suppose I should be used to people underestimating me by now."

"So who are you really, Merlin? Surely you can't be the simple peasant boy who you claim to be," she said, her voice slowly turning back to its flattering tone.

"I am a peasant boy, but I'm most certainly not simple," Merlin replied flatly. "Take the spell off the hall or I'll do it for you."

"Very well, then," she cooed. Her body tensed as she whispered, "Áscúfan þý segl sylfum nytennes." Merlin could feel the magic rush outfrom her, running along the connecting lines of magic, eager to do her bidding. One of the servants carrying away an empty serving tray stopped abruptly, a confused expression dawning his face. He shook his head and turned towards the correct hallway, instead of the one he'd been about to enter.

"That was easy," Merlin said politely.

"Please. You must know as well as I do that a spell like that would be simple for a high priestess," Nimueh laughed.

"True, but there aren't very many of those left, now are there?" he pointed out. "I commend you for staying alive."

"You're rather powerful yourself. I'm surprised Uther hasn't caught you," she said.

"I lived in Essetir until a couple months ago – there was still a risk, but my mother was very careful," he explained.

"I suppose you must have had contact with others who had magic," she decided.

Merlin blinked. "Not really. Why'd you think that?"

Nimueh gave him a sharp look. "There's no way you could have this much control over your magic without any training."

Merlin winced. He should have just told her that he'd had some contact with the druids. "Well I–" he tried, but he caught someone saying his name.

"Merlin!" Arthur was shouting over the noise, holding out his already-empty glass. He was straining his neck, trying to catch a glance of his good-for-nothing servant.

"Duty calls," Merlin said, giving Nimueh a wry smile.

Before he could move away, Nimueh grabbed his arm. "We haven't finished our conversation," she said in a low voice.

"Later," Merlin warned, looking her in the eyes.

Nimueh released her grip, almost throwing his arm back to his side. "Very well. Tonight, then, in the forest," she agreed.

"What's wrong with an empty room?" he complained.

"Not secluded enough," she said with a wry smile.

"That sounds edgy," he concluded dryly. "All right – I'll be there as soon as I'm finished dragging his highness to bed."

"Merlin!" the shout came again, and this time it was aimed directly at him. Arthur had finally craned his head around his chair enough to catch a glance of Merlin – or more specifically, Merlin's hat.

"What'd she want?" Gwen hissed as he passed her to get a pitcher.

"She wanted to let me know just how handsome I am," Merlin quipped.

The look on Gwen's face was stuck between disbelief and worry.

Merlin grinned. "She needed directions to the kitchen and I'm the only person here she's talked to who she feels comfortable with. I guess she's just shy."

Gwen bit her lip. "I could have helped," she pouted.

"It's sorted, Gwen," he assured her, giving her a pointed look. She blew a strand of hair out of her face, then let a reluctant smile cover her face. He nodded in satisfaction.

"Have fun," she said, straightening her back.

Merlin snorted, "Yeah right." Then he walked away, preparing himself for another night of strange noblemen rituals (like drunken food fights).

O o O

"So," Arthur slurred, tripping over air, "who was that... that girl you were talking too?"

"Which one?" Merlin asked dully, forcing Arthur to hold still so he could get the prince's shirt off. He didn't even bother to hide the fact that he was using magic.

"Ha ha!" Arthur laughed obnoxiously. He snorted at Merlin's ignorance, "'Which one?'... ha ha!"

"That's what I just asked," Merlin said, unbuttoning the front of Arthur's shirt.

"Like you talk to many girls," Arthur retorted. He would have fallen over except for the spell holding him up.

"On the contrary, I talk to rather a lot of them," Merlin said. "My best friend is a girl, after all."

"Ah, right. Guinevere..." Arthur trailed off, ending by staring off into the distance.

"How observant you are, tonight, sire," Merlin mocked, tossing the disgusting shirt into a corner.

"Thank you, Merlin," Arthur sniffed, wobbling again.

There was a moment of thoughtful silence (if Arthur was in much of a state to think anything) while Merlin trod over to the wardrobe in order to retrieve one of Arthur's embroidered nightshirts.

"Wait a minute," Arthur laughed stupidly. "I wasn't talking about Guinevere. That- that Mercian servant... the pretty one..."

"Kara?" Merlin asked dryly.

"You know her name!" Arthur cried triumphantly.

"Apparently, sire," Merlin said, using Arthur's nightshirt to muffle his snort of laughter.

"Wow, Merlin," Arthur slurred. "I thought you'd be scared of girls..."

"Like I said, my best friend is a girl," Merlin reminded, straightening his expression.

"Guinevere isn't a girl," Arthur said with an chuckle, as if that was the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard Merlin say.

"Pray that she never hears you say that," Merlin said flatly, releasing the spell so he could drag Arthur over to the bed.

Arthur giggled as Merlin tugged the blanket's free of the prince's weight. "You're so weird, Merlin."

"Good night, Arthur," Merlin said with a grin, throwing the blanket's over his friend's head.

"Yeah," Arthur agreed drowsily.

Merlin blew out all the candles in the room with a single gust of wind. After his eyes faded back to their normal blue, he stood in the dark, contemplating the designated meeting he was about to attend. Hopefully it would end well.