Gaius turned from a table littered with various bottles and pouches. He'd brought more than he needed, afraid he might forget something and have to return to his own chambers, drawing out the treatment. He clasped a small vial between index finger and thumb, warring with himself. The poultices had been prepared, but he'd been ordered to do nothing else, even though every bit of his nature urged him to disobey. He let go the vial, leaving the pain remedy be. Tending the wounds, yes, but no relief. This is a lesson, he'd been told, it is not to be alleviated.
Gaius shuffled back over to the bed where his patient lay on his stomach, head turned away. He sat gingerly on the edge so as not to jostle him too much. He ran an eye over the wounds, stripes in various lengths, inflamed and crossing in places. He had dabbed at the patches of broken skin until the bleeding had been stemmed. His patient hadn't made a sound, stuffing a knuckle into his mouth to prevent any noise, always the boy trying to be valiant.
"I'm going to apply the poultices now," he cautioned softly.
Arthur only nodded, and Gaius leaned over to see his eyes screwed shut. He lightly laid the first across the prince's shoulders. Arthur tensed, arching slightly. Gaius fought to restrain the wrath of his heart as he continued to arrange the poultices. Memory awoke, evoking a time a child Arthur had been punished in front of the court. He didn't recall the offense, but hadn't forgotten a guard wielding a rod striking the lad several times. Uther had betrayed not a shred of sympathy, and although Gaius had maintained his poised exterior, he'd felt for the boy who took the punishment stoically, even though his reddened cheeks indicated his embarrassment.
Gaius situated the last of the poultices just above Arthur's hips. He knew he shouldn't be so intimate with the prince, but found he didn't care, reaching out to rest his hand for a moment on the golden head, hoping the gesture conveyed comfort. "A wrapping must bind these." Arthur didn't acknowledge the statement, simply pushed himself up onto his elbows, then palms. A sharp hiss escaped his lips, his eyes opening as his teeth clenched, and Gaius could tell just like all those years ago, he was resisting displaying any pain in his blue depths.
Gaius' hands were as gentle and sure as he could make them as he wound a strip of linen around the prince to hold the poultices in place. "Done," he announced when he tied off the cloth. Arthur sank into his mattress. Gaius saw only a little boy, hurt by a demanding father who didn't seem to understand the effect he had. For weeks after the thrashing in court, he'd observed Arthur laboring to earn his father's good graces, taking on extra tasks to gain acceptance once again. What would it take this time?
Gaius stood, plodding back to the table, rinsing his hands in the water basin, drying them, then collecting his medicines and herbs, securing them in his bag. He glanced back at the prince, reluctant to leave him alone, wanting to say something to make it better than it was. When he couldn't think of anything, he sighed, returning the basin to its stand and slinging his bag over his shoulder. He exited the doors and was pulled up short when he beheld his king pacing the hall. Their eyes met, and Uther darted to his side.
"How is he?"
Gaius spoke stiffly. "As well as can be expected." Which wasn't saying very much.
Uther nodded as if this were a good thing.
"If you would consent to a sleeping draft—"
"No."
Gaius pursed his lips, and the storm that had been brewing inside overran his passivity. He clutched Uther's elbow and directed him away from the two guards maintaining their posts in front of the chamber door.
"Is infection already setting in?" Uther asked worriedly, misreading Gaius' desire for privacy.
"Not that I can tell, but it's too early." Gaius pierced his king with a hard glare. "You have known me almost all your life, my lord, and I trust this means I may speak freely now without repercussion."
"Gaius," Uther spoke, the tone a warning, but Gaius ignored it.
"He is your son, and you treat him as a common criminal! He did nothing but what he believed to be safeguarding you and the kingdom. He is loyal and trustworthy to you. He always has been!"
Uther's face hardened further. "He is not your son. You have never had a son, and you cannot comprehend the responsibility to make him what he should be."
Gaius swallowed his retort. He wanted to shout that he understood very well with Merlin under his care, a boy he considered a son more than an assistant by now, one he never in a million years would have flogged or beaten with a rod, no matter what he had done. "I say these things, my lord, so you remember and do not lose the son you paid dearly for."
Uther raised himself to his full height. "Watch your tongue, physician. Go."
Gaius bowed his head. He thought for a moment it would be appropriate to apologize for speaking out of turn, but his mouth clamped shut. He wasn't sorry in the least as he pulled away, leaving Uther Pendragon to face his son alone.
Uther stewed for a couple minutes before entering his son's chamber. What had Gaius expected him to do? Praise Arthur for disparaging the king's edicts and spurning his duty as crown prince? What he had done could be considered treason!
Uther battled with his nerves, thinking perhaps not to visit his boy at all, but the guards might perceive his reluctance and attribute it as weakness. He waved at them, and they stood aside as he entered the chamber. Arthur lay on his side, facing away from the door, freshly bandaged, yet as he approached Uther caught a short red line peeping out from underneath the wrapping, right below the base of his son's neck. He tightened his jaw. This had to be done.
Uther moved to the other side of the bed within Arthur's field of vision. His son's eyes shifted to him for a moment, then back to the wall, going blank.
"Gaius says you do well."
Arthur didn't reply.
Uther reminded himself he hadn't expected salutations and understanding, not yet. "You left me no choice," he admonished. "You subverted my rule in front of the people. There was a suggestion of execution for your conduct." He didn't mention it came from Catrina instead of the council, not wanting to lessen the weight of the possibility.
"They could have killed you." Arthur's voice was low, but Uther heard defiance regardless.
"My knights would have dealt with them."
"And killed our people?"
"Their deaths would have been on their own hands."
"But..."
"This is not a discussion," Uther spoke roughly. "You will listen."
Arthur closed his eyes.
"Whatever has possessed you to turn against me will cease. You will not leave this room without my express permission. You will receive a tutor who will remind you of your place, and you will not be granted your freedom until I am satisfied you embrace it once more. Do I make myself clear?" No response. "Is this clear?"
Arthur's eyes snapped open to him. "It's clear."
"This is for your own good, Arthur," Uther grumbled, turning on his heel towards the door.
"Father."
Uther halted, looking back, surprised to behold Arthur standing and facing him. He tried not to notice his lack of color, nor the grimace of pain that flickered at the corners of his mouth.
"I will accept instruction as you require, but I plead that the three men arrested along with me not be executed. If the people know I have been punished, that will be enough?"
"You do not get to decide their fate."
"Please―"
"Ask me no favors." Uther jerked open the door and strode away as fast as his feet could carry him.
Gaius felt the age of his bones on the walk back to his chambers. Once he had taken great pride in serving Uther Pendragon, chosen out of all physicians to live and work in the citadel. Uther had been strict, yes, but fair, inspiring loyalty in his servants. When Ygraine had perished and the Purge had begun, he had stayed, sympathetic to the king's pain and thinking naively the king would recover, his anger dissolve into something more reasonable. Even so, if he were honest, he had to admit his choice had also concerned survival―his proximity to the king meant less chance of his own death after his renunciation of magic.
But Uther had not changed and Gaius went silent. He helped when able, hiding and rescuing the accused, but not nearly as much as he should have. Every execution stabbed him to the soul, and still he remained. Had it been only survival? Partly, but also because a blond headed boy, so innocent and eager in the midst of such darkness, hinted at a spark of what might come, the kingdom passing into hands better than his father's.
As he climbed the spiral steps to the hallway leading to his chambers, Gaius confessed his complacency, serving and saying little as that blond boy took his father's path to gain his pleasure. Might he have spoken up if nothing had changed? Perhaps... Maybe ... No. That was the truth. His hand wouldn't have turned the prince's course. That honor belonged to a raven headed child who didn't see what the prince was but who he could become, and instead of simply hoping for it, made it happen without even knowing exactly what he was doing.
Gaius entered his chambers and set his bag down on a table, carefully lifting the lid. He began to remove the bottles and pouches, meaning to return them to their proper places on his shelves, when he heard rustling and a couple steps. His attention fell on Merlin's room. The door was closed, but a shadow passed the gap underneath. Gaius swiped his hefty walking stick from a corner. He crept across the room, up the steps, gripped the door handle, and swung it open quickly, stick lifted in defense.
"Merlin!" Gaius exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"
Merlin, who had been settling onto the bed, jumped up. "There's a troll and a goblin and they're trying to get rid of Arthur somehow, but maybe not kill him, just make him go against the king, or something like that, and there's this man that is going to give them a reward if they do it!"
Gaius followed the dizzying recital, but didn't quite comprehend it. He lowered the walking stick. "Morgana said you were with Lancelot and wouldn't return for a few days."
"Oh, yeah, the goblin's inside Morgana, too."
Gaius massaged his temple and sank to the bed. "Sit, my boy, and start from the beginning, and slowly."
Merlin sat, one leg off the bed, the other drawn up under him. He related everything that had happened on his short excursion with Morgana. Gaius' expression reflected astonishment, then anger, then contemplation.
"So Uther has been set upon by a troll," the physician murmured. Could that explain his actions? Was Uther perhaps not so much to blame?
"Yeah, I was thinking this might help me figure out what to do." Merlin hefted a large tome off the bed, transferring it to his lap. It was the book Morgana had gifted him containing tales of magical creatures. "The grimoire was no help, I mean, it doesn't mention any creatures."
"I'm afraid my knowledge is limited as well," Gaius affirmed. "I do know troll magic is consistent with their nature, designed to keep them hidden. They can imitate forms, but usually those of the natural world―rocks, trees, and such. I've never heard of one taking the figure of a person."
"And the goblin?"
"Uther did kill them, as the dragon told you, and I am as surprised as he one has survived anywhere in Camelot, though he may have been brought in from another realm. My understanding was goblins are incredibly difficult to catch, and this is why Uther provided such large sums for those retrieved and brought to him."
"I remember writing about them both when Morgana made me do copywork," Merlin asserted. "Here!" He pointed with one finger to an unembellished passage. Gaius read along with him, a story of a troll that wouldn't let anyone cross a bridge as he had decided to take up residence under it. Merlin grew fervent when he read the last part of the story. "'And the music weaved its strains of peace, and the troll was forced to submit itself to the will of the bailiff, who demanded it leave and never return!' Music?"
"Your guess is as good as mine, but, Merlin, this is just a tale."
Merlin grinned at the physician. "But trolls do exist."
"Yes, but..."
Merlin was already flipping through the grimoire he'd hauled out of its hiding place underneath floorboards next to his bed. He'd read it through several times, having finally translated all the spells. "This one."
Gaius peered at the flowing script. The spell was rather intricate and contained a series of instructions on the music to accompany it. "And do you see this part?" Merlin scrutinized the sentence Gaius had indicated: Do not attempt this spell unless proficient in music study or the object of it may become aware and leave a caster vulnerable.
Merlin glanced at the lute in the corner. "Lancelot left before he could teach me." He had messed with the instrument several times, but couldn't play even a simple song. He slumped for a moment, then shot up again. "What if I enchanted it to play the song?"
"Is that even possible?"
"I could try."
"It might be best if I just approach the king and inform him about the troll."
"You think he'd believe you?"
Gaius stared at him for some time, imagining going to Uther and telling him Catrina was a troll and his ward had been overtaken by a goblin. He could hear the king laughing now and chastising him for creating nonsense to explain his actions regarding his son. "I'm afraid Uther and I are at odds currently."
Merlin's brow creased.
Gaius put a kind hand on the boy's shoulder. "While you have been gone, Uther imposed a tax. Most of the townspeople were unable to pay it, and quite a number of them came to the citadel with designs to attack the king."
"Is Arthur all right?" Merlin blurted out.
"He was not hurt in the attempt, in fact, he prevented it by promising the people's money would be returned." Merlin smiled broadly, proudly, and Gaius hated to speak on. "But Uther was furious his commands weren't followed. He had Arthur flogged."
Merlin's face fell, and he shook his head disbelievingly, blanching. "How is he?" he whispered hoarsely.
"I just came from him. He will heal, but it wasn't done lightly."
Anger flashed across Merlin's face and he stood. "How could Uther do that?"
"He thinks he's saving Arthur from himself."
"What? That's ridiculous!" Merlin bolted towards the door. "I have to see him."
Gaius rose to catch the boy by his upper arm. "And let the troll know you live? You cannot reveal your presence until it, and the goblin, have been exposed. Best if we turn our time to your books and figure out a way to do that."
Merlin hesitated at the door, kicked it with his right foot, and stomped back over to the bed, hands angrily searching for any more knowledge about the creatures that had thrown Camelot into chaos.
Gwen banished tears as she approached the kitchens. She'd already taken a private moment in the gardens when the news had reached her, traveling as it often did between guards and the castle staff. Arthur had stopped an uprising...and been whipped for it. They all knew the king to be a hard man, but none had expected him to ever let his son be flogged, much less order it. Gwen had stuttered through her shock, inquiring farther and discovering three men had also been arrested, and by the description, one of them had to be Elyan.
She'd rushed to the hall to Arthur's rooms and found two guards stationed outside his door. Knowing she wouldn't be allowed to see him, she made her to way to the dungeon, but was immediately turned away. Neither of the men she cared for could receive her attentions. Her heart swirled with grief and anger, the one for Arthur and Elyan, the other for Uther and Elyan. Her brother had earned both.
Gwen trudged into the stifling kitchen, hot with ovens and warm bodies moving every which way as they prepared meals for the numerous occupants of the castle. She stepped up to the counter and procured a clean plate to arrange food for Morgana, but a pudgy hand reached out and took the plate from her. She looked up to see the cook eying her meaningfully.
"Not had time to send this up yet," Audrey explained, passing her another plate with simple porridge, a crust of bread, and an apple.
Gwen's dark brows met. "I need food for Morgana."
"If you don't mind. Need someone to take that to the prince's chamber."
Gwen stared into the woman's eyes as if seeing her for the first time―understanding, compassion, encouragement. "I will."
Audrey nodded once succinctly and turned back to her preparations. Gwen's heart lightened a smidgen at the simple act of kindness. She retraced a path back to Arthur's rooms, tremulous, uncertain how the guards would react to her presence. As far as she knew, Uther wasn't aware she was the maid Arthur had given his heart to, but she couldn't be sure.
One of the guards turned his head to her when she stopped before the doors. "Food sent up for the prince." The guard didn't question, immediately opening the door for her. He must have been told to expect a meal. The door closed and her eyes wandered over the still form in the bed, laying face down and swathed in a bandage. She moved closer. Arthur's eyes were closed.
"Arthur?" He didn't respond, and she noted how deeply he breathed. She felt relief to know he had escaped the pain for awhile, both physical and mental. She knelt on the floor, depositing the plate next to her. "You're such a good man," she whispered. "I love you with all my heart."
He moved then, shifting, gasping sharply as he began to roll onto his back. She stood, tugging at his wrist to pull him back the other way. His eyelids fluttered open and his eyes focused on her. "Gwen." He made to push up, but she protested.
"Please, don't. Lay still."
He did as she asked and she knelt back down to bring their gazes level.
"I brought you something to eat. It's not much really. I'm sorry."
He huffed a laugh. "You can't be sorry for something my father's ordered."
"I guess not." She lifted her hand and stroked his cheek. "I am, though."
Arthur brought his hand up to cover hers and link their fingers. "You shouldn't be here."
"Cook sent me up with your meal. It's okay I'm here, but I can't be long."
Arthur curled his fingers into her palm as if he didn't want to let her go.
"Word's traveled. Everyone's talking and most take your side, though, of course, they can't say that very loudly."
Arthur looked alarmed. "It's dangerous. They should keep quiet."
"Arthur, Elyan..." She stumbled over her question. "It's his fault, isn't it?"
"It might have happened without him," he tried to assure.
"Do you think...he'll be killed?"
"I asked my father not to."
She read, however, his ambiguity. "Thank you."
"You should go. The guards will wonder."
Gwen stood, picking up the plate. Arthur propped up on his side, and she set the plate on the bed. She leaned down quickly to kiss his cheek, then darted away, afraid if she stayed any longer she'd weep and that would garner attention neither of them needed.
She dashed away, back to the kitchens, gathering food for Morgana, trying to lose herself in mundane tasks. She strode with reluctance to the other side of the citadel. She hadn't talked to Morgana since the ward had supposedly inadvertently exposed her relationship with the crown prince. They were close, and she knew Morgana very well. The ward was deliberate and intentional, never an idle chatterer.
Gwen paused at the servant's entrance when she heard voices in discussion. Was that Catrina? She pushed the door ajar carefully to peer in. The guest was marching up and down the room.
"I thought this would be enough for him to at the very least disinherit the prince."
Gwen tilted her head in confusion as Morgana responded, out of sight, but by the direction of her voice, near the bed.
"Your persuasion isn't as good as you claimed, then." Mocking humor laced the tone.
"And what have you accomplished?"
"Discovering the princeling has fallen under the spell of love."
Catrina snorted. "We've used that. What else?"
"Well, I did have an idea."
"Spit it out, then!"
"Marriage between you and the king."
"You think the relationship strong enough?"
"That's up to you. How do you read the king?"
"He likes me. Loves me." There was a cackle from both women. "I think with a little hinting, yes, I can move him that way."
"Then the prince can have an 'accident' and that would leave you in direct line for the throne."
"Yes. Of course. Yes!" Glee in Catrina's voice, more laughter from Morgana. "Then reward." Catrina moved out of view towards the main door, and Gwen heard it open and shut.
Gwen stood frozen for a moment. What she had just heard was treason! She pushed the door open farther, stumbling in.
"What took you so long! I'm starving!"
"I'm...sorry." She set the tray down on the table. Morgana pushed past her, sitting down and digging into the meal. "Do you...need anything else?"
"No."
Gwen stared for a couple more seconds before Morgana looked up and waved her away. "Out!" She moved back to the door, left, closed it, and leaned against. That was not her mistress. It couldn't be. Something had gone very wrong.
Uther didn't rise when the three men who had been arrested were brought in by the guards to kneel before him, affording them no dignity. He stared at each of them in turn. He knew none. He had inquired and discovered they were strangers who had appeared a few days ago. Outsiders, come to meddle in his capital.
"You have manipulated my subjects to disobey the law and laid hands on my honored knights. Your lives are forfeit." The men glanced at each other and the youngest looked as if he might speak, but Uther shot him a glare. "However, I am not without mercy. You are exiled from this kingdom. You will be escorted to the border." He leaned forward. "And if you ever return, your deaths will be imminent." He waved a hand to the guards, who hauled the men up and towards the door, but one struggled to turn.
"My lord, your majesty!"
Uther scanned the man with the scruffy chin and long hair, evidence of laziness in his estimation. "You have no permission to speak."
"I only want to know of the prince. What will happen to him?"
"He is none of your concern. Get them out of my sight!"
As the doors opened and closed, a hand squeezed his arm. "This has been so trying for you. I am sorry."
Uther turned to the high backed chair next to his, occupied by Catrina. He noted members of the court raising eyebrows, but didn't care. He grasped her hand as he spoke. "Court is dismissed."
They left quickly and when he was alone, Catrina stood and crouched in front of him. "Your kingdom has a dutiful king, and you have its obedience. I admire your strength and resolve."
Uther ran a palm over his eyes. "If only my son did as well."
"Some day he might understand. I think...if he'd had a mother's encouragement, observed his mother's awe of his father... Well, I don't want to hurt you by speaking more of this."
Uther scanned her face, hints of wrinkles, but still soft with curves. He had been so lonely for so long. How different things would have been with Ygraine to support him and guide Arthur.
"I just want you to know, you have my full confidence and ear whenever you need it." Catrina rose, but before she could leave he pulled her back and stood himself.
"I need...someone who knows me, who understands court intrigue and the complexities of a kingdom, who can rule beside me, secure the kingdom. I know your visit was intended to be temporary and our acquaintance only recently renewed, but perhaps the past can suffice for the brevity of a courtship."
"Courtship?"
"I may be too forward, but would you consent...to be my wife?"
"Marriage?"
Uther dropped her hands. "I shouldn't have. Forgive me."
Catrina's hands pressed into his cheeks. "It would be my honor and pleasure and more than I could ever hope for in this life."
Night had just fallen and Merlin had been waiting. He knew the rounds of the guards like the back of his hand. The last of the guard turned a corner. He sprinted to a stone wall, wiping sweaty palms on his trousers. He'd done this before, but never this high. Would he reach his destination or come crashing back down and give Gaius reason to set a bone and lecture him to high heaven?
It didn't matter. He'd try it anyway. He stared up at the window's tiny ledge and before he could think much, zoomed upwards. He just caught the ledge before gravity regained its hold. He willed his legs to float horizontally behind him and whispered a spell. The inner latch clicked. He pushed the window open and hauled himself through the opening, crouching down silently, flinging his gaze around the room.
Arthur was in bed. He tiptoed towards the prince, but a demanding voice boomed from the hallway, "I want to see him." The door began to open, and Merlin dove forwards, just managing to slide under the bed before heavy footsteps sounded. They stopped near his hiding place and he held his breath.
"He sleeps, sire," a guard spoke from the door.
"I see that." The king's voice grew quiet, a barely heard murmur. "Someday, you'll understand everything I do is for you."
"Should I wake him, my lord?" the guard asked.
"No." The footsteps moved away. "He will hear what he needs to soon enough." The door closed again.
Merlin let out his pent up breath and squirmed underneath the bed to the side Arthur lay on. He heard mumbling. Arthur was actually awake then or on the verge of waking anyway. Merlin didn't move, wary of someone else intruding. He settled for whispering.
"Arthur...Arthur."
A mumble, a whimper.
"Arthur?"
"Who..."
"Arthur!"
He heard a crash and a bang and the drawing of a sword. "Who's there?"
Merlin pushed out from under the bed to find Arthur standing and brandishing his sword. "Me!"
"Merlin! What are you...Where's Lancelot?" His eyes were wide.
"Sorry I scared you," Merlin apologized as he grasped the edge of the bed and pulled to a stand.
Arthur sheathed his sword in its scabbard laying on a side table. He shook his head for a moment, then grasped Merlin by the shoulders. "Merlin." His voice almost broke.
"Arthur, I...you should sit."
Arthur took a step, then faltered to his knees.
Merlin gripped his upper arm. "I shouldn't have surprised you like that."
"No. I'm all right. Here." He let Merlin aid him and directed the youth to the flickering hearth. "Just sit with me."
Arthur didn't take a chair, instead slumping down next to one on the bear rug, leaning a shoulder against its leg. Merlin took in the bandages and the glimmer of hurt in the prince's eyes. "Gaius told me. I should have been here."
"And what could you have done? Petitioned my father?" He laughed grimly.
"Maybe...I don't know. Something."
Arthur looked over at him wryly. "I have a feeling I know."
"What?"
"Interfered. Probably offered to take the blows for me."
Merlin sensed the joke, but didn't smile, and Arthur stared, flabbergasted.
"You would. Heavens, Merlin, I would never have let you do that."
Merlin dug into a pocket. "I brought this. Gaius said your father wouldn't let you have any."
Arthur accepted the small glass bottle, turning it over in his hands, watching its amber liquid pitch back and forth. "You once told me he must have loved me. What do you think now?" He uncapped the bottle and swallowed the contents.
"I think...I think he's an awful father and he shouldn't have done it and I don't know how he could."
Arthur smiled wistfully, setting the bottle on the floor. "Honesty. I missed you, Merlin."
"I've only been gone a day."
"It was enough." Arthur stared at him, strangely Merlin thought, a mix of relief and remorse. "But he might have gone after you next. Might still. Keep yourself scarce."
"About that... We didn't find Lancelot."
"But Morgana said..."
"She lied. Well, not her. The goblin. Let me explain." He summarized what had happened, providing only pertinent details and being vague on his own escape. When he finished, Arthur stared for several seconds as if working a problem, then struggled to his feet, wincing as he did so.
"I have to tell him."
Merlin's heart fairly leaped at Arthur's complete trust in what he'd said. "Arthur."
"He must know."
Arthur paused on his way to the door, bracing a hand on the wall, heaving several deep breaths.
Merlin dashed to his side, wrapping an arm around his hips. "Does it really hurt that much?"
"Like a flame's using me for kindling," he muttered. Merlin's eyes moistened and Arthur looked chagrined he'd spoken aloud. "This isn't worth tears," he reprimanded. "I'll live." Merlin blinked and wiped at his eyes.
He leaned into Merlin, attempting to straighten. He clutched the door handle, but didn't pull at it. "You know when you tried to stop that boar from killing me on your first hunt?"
Merlin nodded. How could he forget? It was the first time he'd used magic when Arthur was present.
"I was angry and I...meant to thrash you. Was going to, but Lancelot and Leon made me think and...I'm sorry, Merlin."
Merlin looked into Arthur's distressed visage. "It's okay. You didn't, right?"
Arthur began to pull on the door.
"Arthur, he won't believe you."
"You'll tell him."
"He won't believe me."
"And what do you suggest I do? Let these creatures take over Camelot?"
"Gaius and I are working on something, looking for answers."
"I can't just sit here."
"Yeah, you can." Arthur began to sway and Merlin held him tightly. "Back in bed."
"What is..." His eyes traveled to the empty bottle glinting on the rug in front of the fire. "What was that?" he questioned thickly.
"You'll sleep deeply for a long time."
"M-erlin. Why..."
Merlin hurriedly guided Arthur to the bed, laying him down on his stomach. The prince didn't speak anymore, simply closed his eyes. He'd combined a pain elixir and a sleeping draft; Arthur would pass obliviously for several hours. Merlin ruffled his master's hair, quirking a sad smile with one side of his mouth at the gesture he'd never performed before. Arthur would have shoved him away if he could.
Gaius looked up angrily when the door to his room creaked opened. "Where have you been?" he shouted. He'd given Merlin explicit instructions not to leave his room. The girl that entered cause his tirade to stick in his throat. "Oh, Gwen," he readjusted apologetically. "I expected...Well, I'm sorry anyway. What is it?"
"Something's wrong with Morgana, Gaius, and I don't know who to turn to."
Gaius cocked his head and lifted his eyebrow. "What is it?"
"I heard her talking to Catrina and I swear...They want to kill Arthur, but Morgana never would do that."
Gaius fumbled the herbs he'd been tying to dry. "Gwen, whatever you thought you heard..."
"Morgana's got a goblin in her."
Gaius whirled around to see Merlin bounding down the steps from his room, which he was certain he hadn't been in a minute ago. "We agreed not to tell anyone!"
"But it's Gwen," Merlin argued.
"A...goblin?" Gwen stuttered.
"Little green man that can take over people's bodies."
"That's...what..."
Gaius' stern expression seemed barely able to control his rage, but he lowered himself to a stool and gestured at her. "Might as well explain it again."
As Merlin launched into his tale for a third time minus anything related to his magic, Gaius shook his head. What he wouldn't give for a year without any crises.
"And don't step a toe back this way or your head belongs to Camelot!" a voice yelled. Gwaine idled on the edge of the border. Uther had been dead serious about wanting them out of the kingdom―they'd traveled into the night until they were marched out of the kingdom. He quickly lost sight of the knights, trotting back down the road, probably intending to find a place to camp. Percival clapped him on the shoulder.
"There's good taverns in Essetir."
Gwaine smiled up at Percival bathed in moonlight and trying to lighten the mood. Elyan had gone silent, brooding all the way here. Nothing had turned out like they had been told.
"Come on," Percival encouraged. "Let's find shelter."
Gwaine let him step away, but remained unmoved. "Elyan, who was the man told you something was going to happen in Camelot?" He remembered Elyan all in a dither about his sister and father and Camelot, urging them to travel home with him.
"He didn't give me a name."
"Yeah, but what did he look like?" Gwaine continued to gaze back towards Camelot.
"What does it matter?"
"Did you see him there?"
"No."
"But he told you he was a knight."
"Used to be."
"But..."
"Knock it off, Gwaine."
Gwaine now did turn and Percival read his troubled visage. "What is it?"
"Someone wanted to stir things up. Maybe did. It just seems off and I think we've been played."
Elyan didn't comment.
Gwaine turned back to the road. "I think something else is supposed to happen, and maybe it's all been about Arthur Pendragon."
"So?" Elyan challenged.
Gwaine's hand went to his pommel. "So I won't let him die."
"Gwaine?" Percival questioned.
"King Uther didn't say what he was going to do. What if he executes him?"
"His own son?"
"I wouldn't put it past him." Gwaine stepped back across the border.
"Gwaine!" Elyan cried out.
Gwaine looked over his shoulder as he continued forwards. "You don't have to come."
Percival glanced at Elyan only briefly, then followed.
Elyan watched them go.
Author's Note: Credit to BooksAreMedicine for the music spell idea and making me keep Merlin hiding under Arthur's bed!
