A. N. ("Arthur's Notes"): More shenanigans. Enjoy!

WARNINGS: Sexual content, violence, and strong language slightly amped up from what you'd expect from Merlin, but nothing serious. There will eventually in the series be a gay relationship, but otherwise no slash.

Previous Stories:

The Odd Couple: The Adventures of Sir Leon and Sir Gwaine (May Glenn), The Beginning of a Beautiful Friendship (May Glenn)

FRIDAY KNIGHTS: THE UNQUIET CASTLE

Gwaine and Leon are starting to get the hang of running Camelot while Arthur is gone. How will the knights react when the castle itself begins to rebel against them? Meanwhile, Gwaine begins his quest to unite Leon and Lady Elaine in holy matrimony-or at least in a double-date.

Gwaine groaned at the morning light in his face, cursing himself—not for the first time—that he'd requested a bedroom with a window. He was ignoring, of course, the vast majority of the time when he would just stare out that window at the view of the sky, the town, and the world beyond that just made his heart bloody soar.

But, no, right now, that window was a cruel device meant to torture him, as was the light it brought with it.

Gwaine could handle his liquor, to an almost inhuman level. But last night-from what he could recall, anyway-he'd drunk Leon's, Percival's, Lancelot's, Elyan's, Galehaut's, and Merlin's liquor, as well, at which point it pretty well stopped being an ability to hold his liquor, as it were. And, well, the problem wasn't so much with holding it as it was with living with the consequences.

He wasn't even sure he remembered getting to his room. But this definitely was his room, so that much was good. He remembered the twins-good times—though he definitely felt in need of a bath now-and, oh, that was right: they snored. Since he vaguely remembered both of them being present (though that could have just been that he was seeing double) he could very easily see himself slipping out in the wee hours of the morning in order to actually get some rest.

Which meant he'd only been asleep a few hours. Ah, well, hoot with the owls, soar with the eagles, and all that: Gwaine heaved himself upright. He steadied, did not puke, and then moved to standing.

His door was open, and Lancelot wandered past, but did a double-take at the door. "When did youget in?"

Gwaine ignored the question in favor of gripping the doorframe to steady himself. "When did the English start drinking like that?" he asked Lancelot. "They drink like they don't want to live!"

Lancelot chuckled. "Seriously, Gwaine, I thought you were—" he stopped talking and blushed just in time, as both men simultaneously remembered that Cadi (or Mari?) had been a fling of Lance's once when he was trying to get over Gwen. Which was a bit awkward, if you subscribed to that six-degrees-of-separation nonsense, but Gwaine grinned:

"Snorers, the pair of 'em. I don't even remember getting here." Gwaine cast about for a clean shirt with little success. "Everyone else get in okay?"

Lancelot nodded. "You were last one in." Now he paused, and his face twitched, as if he struggled with something he didn't quite want to say.

"What is it, Lance?"

"Oh. Um. Nothing. Except, you didn't notice anything...strange last night, did you?"

"I was practically unconscious, Lance—"

"Okay, okay, sorry, forget I said anything," Lance said, and moved off.

Gwaine stared at the doorframe, waited for it to stop moving, but it never did. He had to find Gaius, or Merlin. His normal hangover cure just wasn't going to cut it right now. He wasn't even sure he could make it right now without poisoning himself—you know, even more. Maybe Merlin could magically remove a hangover. He certainly needed it after that seven-pint-binge—had he really had two of them? Or did he give that one to Merlin?

Merlin?

Gwaine straightened, suddenly sobered with worry (though the headache remained). Surely he hadn't tried to get Merlin to drink that horn! He couldn't weigh more than a baby bird—that thing would have killed him! Jesus Christ—Gwaine thought, for the scenario was still quite fuzzy—what if I made him drink it? Gwaine thought hard, but he didn't really remember seeing Merlin after offering him the Auroch's horn. He didn't remember much of anything after that, to be fair.

Gwaine staggered toward the Physician's quarters with all the grace of a seasick mariner, but one with a very urgent mission: to make sure he hadn't killed his best friend!

Gwaine rushed into the stable after not finding Merlin at the Physician's quarters, looking breathless, anxious, and also a little bit green. When he spotted Merlin he made a beeline for him.

"Merlin!" he cried, sounding greatly relieved. When he heard his name, Merlin looked up and leaned on the rake he'd been using, raising his eyebrows at Gwaine.

"Uh, yes?" he said, and then blinked, "Wait, did you just get up?" He'd been awake since just after dawn, of course. Then again, he'd only had the one pint of beer last night, not... however many Gwaine had had. The knight rushed at Merlin and clapped him hard on the shoulder, grinning.

"Jesus Christ, Merlin, am I glad to see you up and about! You gave me a scare!" he exclaimed. Merlin just laughed in surprise and stumbled a little under the force of the friendly shoulder-clapping.

"What? Why?" he asked, giving up leaning on the rake to catch his balance. Gwaine shrugged.

"I don't remember a thing about last night!" he admitted, and laughed, as if this was hilarious.

"You don't remember anything? I'm sure the twins won't appreciate that," Merlin said, and then dodged without even stopping to see if Gwaine planned on trying to smack him upside the head for the comment. Gwaine blinked in confusion at that, wondering why Merlin was ducking, but didn't comment. Or smack him upside the head.

"Oh, well, yeah. I remember the twins. And, ah," he puffed himself up obnoxiously, "I don't need to tell you that they'll be remembering Sir Gwaine! Hur hur hur!" Gwaine ducked out for a few moments, but returned shortly with two full buckets of water and an apple stuck in his mouth. He set the buckets down and took the apple out of his mouth. With his mouth still full, he continued: "And I remember that seven-pinter, by God!"

"You tried to get me to drink that. Leon put a stop to it," Merlin remarked. He frowned at that- and the subsequent conversation, but said nothing else. Instead, he set the rake aside and gestured carelessly at one of the buckets to levitate it and dump it in the trough before a curious horse nose could knock it over. His eyes went gold for a moment, but the bucket didn't even twitch. He glanced at Gwaine to see if he'd noticed, because... quite frankly, it was a bit bewildering and embarrassing to do magic and it not work. He tried again. Nothing. Instead of picking up the bucket, Merlin just stood there and glared at it.

Gwaine watched Merlin carefully. Unless he was still drunk—which he was pretty sure he wasn't—or was seeing things, Merlin looked distant for a minute, and sad. Then, and Gwaine only noticed because he was watching him closely, his eyes went gold. Gwaine jumped, looked around, but no one else was about, and...

Nothing happened. Which was odd. "You all right, Merlin?" Gwaine decided sufficed for both questions he wanted to ask.

Merlin hesitated for a minute before answering Gwaine. He wasn't up for starting another row about honesty. So he answered honestly, to a point. Of course, he left Leon and Galahad and all that out of it.

"Remember when we were looking for that spell? I tried to cast the one you found, but it didn't work," he said, and went to lift the water bucket. He'd neglected, however, to realize that since Gwaine had filled it, he'd filled it almost to the brim, which was much heavier than what Merlin could carry. They were big buckets...

"Or I thought it didn't. Then I couldn't put out a candle, and I thought it was because I was tired. But look," he said, and gestured a little more emphatically at the bucket, which predictably didn't do a thing. "It's like my magic isn't working," he explained a little plaintively.

Gwaine bridled, and scratched the back of his head. "Well, to be fair, I don't know what you're like really when your magic isworking so..." But he bit back the 'I can't help you on that one, mate.' He'd find a way to help, even if it was being someone to talk to. "You think you cursed yourself, or something? Can that even happen?"

Merlin stopped and thought for a moment. "I don't think so. Gaius would know, though..." he trailed off. "I don't feel cursed," he added with a shrug, but he guessed he couldn't rule it out. What if he hadcursed himself on accident? Finally, he was forced to admit it. "I don't know. But I've never not been able to do magic," he said, sounding more than a little frustrated, and only adding to his frustration by trying to lift the bucket again and sloshing the water out onto his boots. Wonderful. Who didn't love wearing soggy shoes? And he couldn't just wave them dry like he might usually do.

"Okay, okay, easy," Gwaine said, diving for the buckets. "I'm sure we'll figure it out." He took the buckets in turn and dumped the water into the trough where the horses waited eagerly, before Merlin could get more irritated. "Just don't-I don't know if you can over-strain yourself as far as magic is concerned, but if anyone was going to figure out how to pull a magic-muscle or something, it'd be you, so just—" he patted Merlin gently on both arms, giving up on what he wanted Merlin to do. "Maybe it's not you, anyway. Could be something else." He shrugged. "Anyway, I better let Leon know," he said. Merlin gave him a look that implied he had something witty to say, but wasn't going to say it.

"Not, you know, any of this," Gwaine waved his hand at the buckets, "But I mean, remember when we...well, let's say he just gets fussy when I don't let him know what's on. I'll make up something. Just so he can keep an eye out. As will I." With that, he grinned like a fool, chucked his apple core off the back wall of the stable and into a bucket, and ducked outside, already half-running.

Gwaine was beginning to suspect that he was still drunk, as he proceeded, half-running, back to the castle to hunt for Leon. Stairs moved underneath him, the floor tilted, and walls walked right out in front of him. At least, he hoped he was still drunk, because that would make a whole lot more sense than...

Someone...tilting the room on him?

And as for Merlin's magic not working, that definitely meant something was wrong, though he naturally didn't want Merlin to know he was worried. And he really didn't want Leon to know!

But, still, he ought to be warned.

Which didn't mean Gwaine didn't feel justified making a detour from the stables to Leon's chambers by way of the kitchens, because he desperately needed to sober up.

The kitchens were rather empty of people, quite luckily. He flirted his way past a girl sweeping at the door, snuck his way past another baking bread, and made his way to the cupboards in the back. The pre-breakfast apple made him crave cheese, and of course he would require more apples to go with. He cursed himself that he hadn't brought his cloak or was wearing much more than a loose shirt and trousers, and was just puzzling how he was going to smuggle the goods out short of stuffing the apples in his shirt and going as a woman when—

The cupboard moved.

Gwaine experienced a moment of terrifying deja-vu—remembering what he had thought was a drunken dream of his own wardrobe growling at him hungrily—as the giant wall cupboard opened its doors, growled, and moved.

Okay, I'm not that drunk! was all he had time to think before the wardrobe leapt upon him, and with one devouring bite, snapped him up and locked him inside.

Leon made his way across the courtyard, hoping to get training started a few minutes early today. He had to get ready for the dinner with Elaine tonight. Granted, dinner wasn't for another eight or nine hours, but he didn't exactly know how long getting ready took for something like this. He could do with a bath, and his beard needed trimming, the menu needed to be prepared…

A quick head count told him that everyone who needed to be present at training was, (except for Gwaine) but they were just sitting around chatting. It was then that Leon noticed that the sword boxes hadn't been brought out. He cast around the courtyard for Merlin, and caught a flash of blue as Merlin moved about in the stables. Leon jogged over.

"Merlin," he said, hoping to gloss over last night's little conversation completely, "do you think you could get the training kit out, please? Only I was hoping to start a bit early today."

Merlin looked up. "Oh—sorry! Gwaine came in and distracted me and—I'll just go get it now, it'll be ready in a minute."

"I'll save you a trip," Leon said, knowing it would be more efficient if they both carried the training equipment out, and followed Merlin to one of the sheds where the practice swords and shields were kept.

"Did Gwaine find you?"

Leon shook his head. "He's not even on the field yet. Probably still reeling from that seven-pinter."

"No, I mean, he said he was looking for you. He, er—said he had to talk to you about something."

"Oh. Well, I'm sure he'll be down—"

Leon stopped when he saw a kitchen maid running across the courtyard at breakneck speeds towards them. She didn't appear to want to stop any time soon, and ran full-on into Merlin, who just managed to catch her despite the fact that she knocked the breath out of him.

"Oh! Sorry!" the kitchen maid said, obviously flustered.

"No problem," Merlin gasped, clutching his solar plexus.

"What is it?" Leon demanded.

"Oh, Sir Leon," the kitchen maid stammered, "I didn't know who else to turn to…"

"What's happened?"

"Only Sir Gwaine—you do know how Sir Gwaine likes to get into the kitchens, sir—he sneaked in this morning when he thought I wasn't looking, and, well, he's gone and gotten himself locked in the bread cupboard!"

Merlin gave a sort of cough, which Leon presumed was his attempt at breathless laughter. Leon looked at the kitchen maid in despair. "What?"

"We did try to get it open, sir, but it won't budge!"

"Yeah, I bet he's *holding* it shut," Leon growled. He glanced at Merlin, who was now rolling on the grass laughing his head off. "I'd better go deal with this—do you think you can manage?"

"Hahaha—oh yeah, sure—hahaha!..."

"I'm really rather worried," the kitchen maid continued as Leon and she made their way back toward the kitchens, "That cupboard doesn't even have a lock! There's some odd things been going on in this castle..."

"I'm sure it's nothing," Leon offered, over Merlin's distant laughter.

This was mad. Why the hell—how the hell—had the cupboard just come to life like that? Had he not been that drunk when his wardrobe moved at him night before last? Did this have anything to do with why Merlin's magic didn't work? What's next, the gargoyles on the awnings come to life and eat people?

This was annoying. All he wanted was a bit of cheese, and now he was stuck in this small, dark cupboard. He was probably sitting on a loaf of bread, which was a shame. He'd still eat it, anyway.

This was ridiculous! He slammed his fist—again—against the door, but it didn't budge. He was a Knight of Camelot, not the bloody tin soldier! He couldn't believe he let it catch him, much less keep him! This was an insult to his...to loads of things!

This was terrifying.

Oh, not that he'd ever admit it, of course. Gwaine didn't go in much for honor or glory, but he did have pride, which was different. It wasn't the dark that was the problem, or even, really, the smallness of the space. Um, okay, maybe it was a bit of that. It was the being stuck, being trapped, that—

Well, he didn't like it, anyway.

He pounded against the door, sitting back to strike it with both feet, gaining nothing but sore knees. He didn't call for help, exactly, oh no, not Sir Gwaine, but he was sure his struggles—the banging and the pounding and the cursing—could be heard for miles.

It took him a moment, then, to realize that someone on the outside was speaking to him.

"All right, Gwaine, stop messing about!"

"Leon!" Gwaine leapt up, or, you know, would have, if he wasn't being squished. The air smelled funny in here. "Leon, the bloody stupid thing's trapped me in here!"

"Gwaine, this isn't funny—"

"You bet it's not! I can't get out!" He hoped Leon missed his voice breaking. It was noticeably stuffy here, now, and he wasn't sure breathing in did anything for him.

"Well, how did you get in?"

"The bloody thing ate me, Leon!" Gwaine bellowed, exasperated, banging against the door again. "It just—it moved, and it just snapped me up!"

There was no response from outside.

"I ain't jokin', mate!" Gwaine insisted, desperate not to sound desperate. Even if he was getting ready to start rocking back and forth until the cupboard tipped over.

"Leon, this isn't funny, you great oaf, I'm serious!"

Leon covered his mouth as a laugh escaped his lips. This sort of thing never happened—and to be happening to Gwaine of all people!—it was just too perfect!

"Of course, of course—Gwaine, not to worry, we'll, er, think of something." He silently gestured to one of the kitchen maids to get a crowbar.

"Isn't there a bloody key or something?" Gwaine said. He sounded almost manic! Leon could have some fun with this.

"Oh, there's no key to this door," Leon said, tapping on it. "I think it must be stuck or something." He glanced around the edge of the door, surprised to find that nothing was jammed in the door. That was certainly a little odd—he'd gotten into this cupboard dozens of times, and the doors couldn't stick unless something was jammed in it. Maybe it was jammed from the inside somehow…
Gwaine kicked at the door again. "Well, break the door down!"

"Gwaine!" Leon said, in his reprimanding voice, "This is cupboard is made of hand-carved mahogany!"

"Leon—!"

"Oh, no, I'm afraid we may have to leave you in there for some time, until we fetch the carpenter to take all apart. Look on the bright side—you'll miss training!"

Leon was having so much fun with keeping Gwaine at the disadvantage like this, and he did not notice Gwaine's strikes against the inside of the cupboard had stopped. Now it was quiet. Oh, no—he hoped he hadn't made him mad…

He sighed. "I'm only joking, son—we're getting the crowbar now."

No answer.

He knocked on the cupboard, getting nervous, now. "Gwaine?"

Still no answer.

"Gwaine?" The kitchen maid rounded the corner with a crowbar, and Leon took it quickly and fumbled desperately to get it in the door. It was a tight seam, and the shaft snapped back in his hands without catching. He tried again, his hands shaking. Oh God, what if he'd been suffocating this whole time—while he was *playing around*….?

"Come on!" he snarled, and, fed up with trying to get in by hand, forced the end of the crowbar into the seam with a kick, and hauled backward. With a sharp crack the door popped out. Leon let out a relieved sigh. "Gwa—ah!"

As he knelt to haul Gwaine out, Gwaine jumped out himself, and gripped Leon like a vice. Leon stiffened, thinking for a second that Gwaine was going to tackle him for teasing him. But Gwaine just hung on, his arms tight around Leon's ribcage in...a...hug?... Leon could feel Gwaine's heart beating at an abnormally high rate.

"You alright?"

"Fine," Gwaine lied from somewhere around his armpit.

"You sure?"

"Absolutely."

Leon tried to shift, but Gwaine's grip didn't loosen. "You want to let go, now?"

"Nnnnope!"

"O...kay." After Gwaine's breathing had steadied out somewhat, Leon gently managed to guide Gwaine off of him.

"All right?"

With one last apprehensive glance at the wardrobe Gwaine cleared his throat and drew himself up, though he folded his arms across his chest and kept them there. "Right. Fine," he said, shaking his head as if to clear it, "just—"

"—Could happen to anyone. It's fine." Leon smiled and clapped him on the shoulder. "Come on, we'd better get out to the field."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, there," Gwaine said, grabbing onto Leon's cloak as he turned away. "Aren't you at all fussed about what just happened? I mean, there's something odd going on here! You saw it!"

"What do you mean?"

"That cupboard bloody attacked me!" Leon must have accidentally been giving him a look, because he added, "Hey—I was right about the goblins, remember?"

Leon sighed. "Fine. What's so odd?"

"The castle, mate-haven't you noticed it? Things coming to life, like that—" he glanced at the cupboard again and stepped further from it, "—that thing. Merlin's noticed it, too. Something odd with the castle."

"Merlin? Why didn't he say anything?"

"Well, who would believe it?"

Leon swallowed, and thought for a moment. "Why don't you go talk to Gaius—maybe he has some idea of what it is. I'll go let the knights know that they should get started with training."