Thank you for all of your kind words. :) This chapter was a lot of fun to write.

...

For the gravity of the situation at hand, Merlin was enjoying himself entirely too much.

It was Gwen's fault, too, although Arthur was hardly going to blame her for Merlin's childlike nature. If not for her presence, he, Merlin, and the knights would have been able to hold a serious conversation about how they were going to deal with whatever enchantment Uther was under out in the open.

Instead, Merlin was taking great delight in calling a "secret meeting."

Although, if he kept reminding everyone about the time in the loudest stage whisper possible in the most obvious "I'm up to something!" fashion, it wasn't going to be a secret meeting. Arthur might as well have invited the nearest farmer and his wife for their input.

"Arthur," Merlin hissed, looking left and right.

As though they weren't riding across a field from which they could see anyone and anything approaching.

"What, Merlin?" Arthur gritted through his teeth.

It was either this or depressed Merlin, he reminded himself, and out of the two, this was better.

At least, for now.

"Don't forget-"

"I won't because you keep reminding me, and-"

"Merlin!" Gwen called right before Arthur chewed him out further. "Come look at this!"

Merlin was all too happy to wheel his horse around and go check out whatever Gwen was pointing to.

Arthur breathed out a sigh of relief. Maybe she would be able to keep Merlin occupied until that evening. Their surroundings were filled with plenty of flowers and cute animals.

Shielding his eyes, he checked the position of the sun. Camelot was still a long time off.

…

"Should we do a roll call?" Gwaine asked.

Arthur opened his mouth to inform Gwaine of what a stupid idea that was before realizing that it was pitch-black outside and that he could barely see his own hand a foot in front of his face. "Fine. Lancelot?"

"Here."

"Elyan?"

"Here."

"Percival."

A soft cracking as the knight shifted weight. "Here."

"Leon."

"Here."

"...Merlin?"

"Here!"

"Right." Arthur rubbed his hands together. "Let's get started, shall we?"

"Hey!" Gwaine interrupted. "What about me?"

"I already know you're there, Gwaine," Arthur pointed out, rolling his eyes even though the motion would be missed in the dark. "I can smell you from here."

One of the knights snickered.

"Right." Arthur cleared his throat. He didn't know why, but it was almost physically painful for him to turn the meeting over to Merlin. "Merlin. Go."

"Right, so."

The dark shape that Arthur believed to be Merlin stood up (as if that made a difference). "Uther-"

"King Uther to you," Arthur corrected.

"King Uther," Merlin mimicked, somehow making the title sound even more disrespectful than the name, "is enchanted. I think I know who did it, but I'm not entirely sure how or why. Maybe there was some sort of seal on the missive he got. Did you have a chance to read it, Arthur?"

"No. My father simply told me of its contents."

"Probably the seal, then," Merlin concluded. "Those are really easy to enchant. They kind of provide a base for the spell."

No one said anything.

Gwaine (or Arthur assumed it was Gwaine) raised a hand to scratch the top of his head, releasing a new cloud of noxious fumes that made Lancelot cough.

"When we get back to the castle," Merlin went on, "the rest of you should go ahead and act like nothing has happened. I'll sneak off."

"What if Uther isn't happy to see us?" Percival asked. "The fae could have enchanted him to have us killed or something."

It was a possibility.

"Don't worry," Merlin assured him. "I'll be able to tell before you get too seriously maimed."

"What?" Arthur wasn't quite sure he heard that right. "Merlin, did you say maimed?"

"And if nothing bad happens to you, then, well, I'll still try to figure out the problem."

Arthur crossed his arms. "I'm seeing a serious problem with this, Merlin."

"What's that?" Gwaine asked. "Sounds good to me."

"Everything sounds good to you, Gwaine," Lancelot piped up.

"If it sounds good to you, then there must be something wrong with it," Arthur said. "What are we supposed to do, Merlin?"

"Sit around and look pretty."

Leon (Arthur thought it was Leon) snorted.

Arthur was not amused. "Excuse me?" Because the lack of light obscured Merlin's face, it was impossible to discern whether or not he was joking from his expression.

Before Merlin could say anything, one of the knights cleared his throat. "I think what Merlin means," Lancelot spoke, "is that we should keep an eye out for Merlin where he can't be and also make sure that whatever enchantment King Uther is under doesn't affect the citizens of Camelot."

Merlin snapped his fingers, making Arthur jump. "Yes, that's what I meant."

A sudden thought struck Arthur. "As soon as we return, someone needs to keep Gwen out of this business. It could get messy."

"I've got a thought." Percival had been so quiet that Arthur had almost forgotten that he was there. "If you fae can enchant people in a negative sense, is it possible for you to...I don't know...cast a spell of protection or something?"

Now that Percival had posed the question, Arthur wanted to know if it was possible as well and if so, why hadn't Merlin done it to him sooner.

Even in the dark, Arthur could sense that Merlin was shaking his head no wildly.

"No," Merlin said. "No, I can't do that."

"Can't or won't?" Leon asked.

"No, no, no," Merlin repeated, almost tripping over the word. "You...you can't mess with life like that. There are consequences, even for fae. You don't touch life. At least, you're not supposed to. I did once, and it didn't end very well for a long while."

It didn't end very well for a long while? What did that even mean?

"What happened?" Percival asked.

Merlin laughed, but it sounded half-forced. "Something rather embarrassing and almost permanent involving trees. I'd rather not talk about it."

"So the big baddies get to use it on people, but you don't?" Gwaine guffawed. "What kind of a system is that?"

"I didn't make it," Merlin informed him, annoyed. "I'll be sure to take it up with the management the next time I see them."

"Come on, Merlin," Gwaine pressed. "Tell us."

"Tell you what?" Merlin's irritation increased, and Arthur found himself smirking to himself in the dark.

"What happened?"

"Yeah, Merlin," Leon piped up. "What happened?"

"I told you," Merlin snapped, "something embarrassing."

"Like what?" Percival asked.

"Like something embarrassing." With a light thud, Merlin sat back down.

For all of the times he teased Arthur, Arthur wasn't going to let Merlin get away with that kind of answer. "Come on, Merlin. Tell us. Unless you're afraid of something."

"I'm not afraid. There's nothing to be afraid of." Merlin sounded insulted.

Good.

"Then tell us," Arthur ordered. "Just because you'll be skulking around like a schoolboy trying to get out of lessons-"

"Speaking from experience?"

"-doesn't mean I can't still make you muck out the stables every single day."

Chirping crickets peppered a moment of silence as Merlin considered the threat (Arthur was assuming that Merlin was thinking it over - the idiot could have taken the opportunity to nod off, and Arthur wouldn't be able to tell in the dark).

"I fell asleep," Merlin finally said. His tone was short, and he clipped the last word off as though he were already regretting it.

"What?" Arthur couldn't stop the snicker that slipped out of his nose. "You fell asleep? Well, that's nothing new. You fall asleep while doing everything."

Another snap of Merlin's fingers, but this time, a yellow glowing orb appeared in the middle of the circle, illuminating their faces.

"Hey!" Gwaine cried out as they shielded their eyes.

"Arthur, I want you to look at me," Merlin said.

"I can't - you just blasted my eyes out, you ruddy fae," Arthur snapped. Brightness was embedded in his retinas. If he was lucky, he would be able to make out shapes in half an hour.

"Oh, don't be such a baby. It's just a little orb."

"Excuse me?" Arthur rubbed his eyes. Now that Merlin mentioned it, the light wasn't that overpowering, but he wasn't going to admit that.

"Look at me."

Why in fae was Merlin acting so weird?

"I want you to see this glare on my face. This glare is for you, Arthur, because you are the largest prat that I have ever known."

Merlin scrunched up his face like a fat pig.

Arthur faked gasping. "I am so terrified."

"Sire-" Lancelot began.

A twig cracked.

Instantly, the glowing orb disappeared, leaving Arthur blinking as his eyes tried to readjust to the lack of light.

"Elyan?"

It was Gwen's voice.

In the dark, the knights frantically shuffled until one of them rose. "Here, Gwen."

"Elyan? What are you doing out here? Where is everyone?"

Blast it. They should have brought a non-magical light.

"We're - we're -" Elyan faltered.

If the other knights were smart enough, they were sneaking off in the opposite direction of Gwen's voice.

"Let me walk you back to the camp," Elyan settled on, crossing in front of Arthur on the way to meet his sister.

"Is something wrong?" Gwen asked.

"No," Elyan assured her. "Everything is fine."

"Well, where are the other knights?"

"I'm sure you just missed them in the dark. They're probably all sleeping."

That was Arthur's cue to leave.

As he stood, his knees let out slight, almost inaudible cracks in protest at having been locked in a tough position for too long. His back was killing him.

Since he couldn't see the ground, he took a step forward and hoped that the leaves weren't too dry.

"I'm sure I checked," Gwen insisted. "I couldn't even find Merlin, and you know how Arthur snores."

Pausing for a moment, Arthur frowned. He didn't snore. The idea was absurd.

He took another two steps forward. When he twisted around on his third, something slammed into his ankle.

Before he could regain his balance, he slammed into the ground.

"Oof!"

In a flash, his breath was stolen from his body.

"Arthur?"

No, not Gwen. Anybody but Gwen. He didn't want her to see him looking like an idiot.

Before she reached him, he turned himself over. "I'm perfectly all right," he wheezed. "I just...fell...over…"

Wait a second. Hadn't Merlin been sitting in that spot before he removed the light?

He was going to kill his manservant.

After his father was unenchanted.

"Are you sure?" She bent forward slightly, as though she wanted to help him but wasn't sure how, as Elyan awkwardly stood in the background.

Holding a fist up to his mouth, Arthur coughed. "Positive."

Merlin was nowhere to be seen. The coward.

"Well, let me help you back to the camp, then," Gwen insisted.

Arthur pushed himself to his feet and brushed the leaves off the front of his shirt. "I can manage," he told her stiffly. "I'll follow you and Elyan." The three awkwardly waited for someone to take lead before they all took lead and crashed into each other in the dark.

Blast Merlin, blast fae, and blast magic, he thought angrily as he strode forward ahead of Gwen and Elyan, fumbling in the dark to find his way back to camp.

…

Arthur spent the night thinking his embarrassment in front of Gwen and turning over all of the different ways disenchanting his father could go wrong.

He did not sleep much.

…

It was a relief to see the spires of the Camelot's castle again. Even though Arthur felt like he was walking into a trap, some of the tension eased out of him as he rolled his shoulders.

True to his plan, Merlin disappeared sometime after their group entered the citadel, and despite Arthur's trepidation, the rest of their group did not encounter any resistance.

Odd. Arthur thought there would have been some unpleasant aspect to their greeting. Fae enchantments were nasty, and it wasn't often that fae were able to entrap the king of Camelot.

Merlin must have informed George that he would be too busy to attend to Arthur because George was waiting with a piping hot bathtub and a fresh change of clothes. Even though he was forced to listen to fifteen jokes about candle wax (he would have to thank Merlin for that later), it was nice to get rid of his dirt- and leaf-coated shirt.

All cozy feelings evaporated like steam as soon as he received his summons to the council room.

As always, his father was waiting for him, but his expression and posture seemed...off. Instead of sitting stiffly in the middle of his seat, he was reclining and entertaining a goblet of wine in his left hand. A slight smile graced his lips.

Uther only smiled when fae blood was about to be spilled.

"Hello, Father."

"Arthur. Sit. Have some wine."

Now he knew something was wrong. Usually, Uther gave him a snide remark about the amount of wine he consumed at banquets and meetings.

As a servant scurried from a corner to obey Uther's order, Arthur warily watched his father. After taking a sip, he rested his elbows on the table and pushed the wine goblet off to the side (for the moment). "The...mission was a success," he said. "We drove the bandits from Essetir. King Cenred should pay you in full."

"Oh, yes." Uther waved a hand. "I almost forgot about that."

Almost forgot? What king "almost forgot" about the whereabouts of the sole heir to the throne?

He chose his next words carefully. "I wanted to ask you a couple of questions, Father."

"By all means." Uther flicked his fingers, signalling for more wine for himself.

"Did you notice anything odd about King Cenred's missive?"

"Odd? No." Uther was barely paying attention to Arthur. Normally, his focus would have rivaled Merlin staring at cufflinks, but his gaze flitted about the room like a butterfly, dancing from one object to the next. Uther's body was present, but his mind was elsewhere.

Arthur hoped it was figuratively instead of literally.

"Speaking of missives." Uther cleared his throat. "I received one the other day from Lady Catrina. Do you remember her?"

Arthur could barely keep track of the servants, let alone a lady he saw once or twice a year at best, but he wasn't about to admit that to his father. "Yes."

"Lovely lady." Uther brought his wine goblet to his lips, smiling. "I can't keep the news to myself any longer, frankly. We're going to be married."

Arthur felt like his chair had been ripped from underneath him. Out of all things, this was not what he had been expecting. "What? You're engaged?"

"Yes."

"To whom?" Arthur demanded.

Uther shot him a brief annoyed look. "To Lady Catrina, of course. Who else would it be?"

Arthur hadn't thought it would be anybody. The topic of Ygraine had always been forbidden amongst the Pendragons, and even though Arthur had been newly born when she died, he had gathered over the years that she might have been the first and last person that Uther Pendragon ever loved.

"You're getting married."

"Yes."

Arthur grabbed his goblet of wine and downed the entire cup before asking, "When?"

"A week."

A week. A whole blasted week.

"More wine?" Uther offered.

But Arthur held up a hand. "No, thank you. I'm rather weary from traveling. I think I'm going to retire for the evening."

Uther said not a word as Arthur left the room.

…

Gagging, Merlin stumbled into the room, but Arthur didn't have time for his theatrics tonight.

"Listen, Merlin," he said, grabbing his manservant by the shoulders. "We have a serious problem on our hands."

"I'll say." Merlin gagged again. "Have you ever considered why it's a problem on our hands and not, say, our shoulders or-"

Arthur shook Merlin. "Pay attention. My father is engaged."

"What?"

"That's what I said!" Arthur released Merlin to throw his hands up in the air. "The idea is ridiculous! This is proof that he has been enchanted."

Merlin moved past Arthur. "Well, if you want further proof, stick your nose in the air - higher than what you've already got it at now, of course."

"Hilarious. We should hire you as court jester." Experimentally, Arthur sniffed. "I don't smell anything." Anything besides the pile of laundry that Merlin had left undone before their little trip.

Merlin flopped backwards onto his bedspread. "I forget how second-rate the noses of humans are."

"Excuse me? I'm the prince of Camelot. My nose isn't second-rate-"

"Then you should be able to smell it!"

"Merlin, for the love of fae, get your grubby hands off my pillow."

Huffing, Merlin sat up. Arthur dragged him to his feet and shoved the fae across the room.

Merlin shot him a cheeky grin before grabbing his wrist. "Come along, Arthur, I'm going to enlighten you."

Before Arthur dug his heels in, Merlin dragged him from the room.

"Merlin, let go of me. Where are we going?"

Merlin made a sound in the back of his throat.

For being smaller than Arthur and incredibly weak when it came to lifting horses' saddles, Merlin's grip on his wrist was almost like iron. "Merlin," he tried again as the fae yanked him around a corner, "this is serious. We have to-"

"Shh!" Merlin hissed.

After forcing Arthur down another corridor of the castle, Merlin stopped in front of a set of doors to a guest room. Holding up a finger to his lips, he pressed his ear against the door.

Arthur really hoped that no one came down the hallway at that moment because it was most humiliating for the prince of Camelot to be eavesdropping outside someone's door. Even if he did own the castle.

"Okay, no one's inside." Merlin's eyes flashed gold, and the lock on the door released. "Let's go."

Arthur ducked into the room behind him.

Like magic, the odor slapped him, invading his nostrils and his mouth. It was more grotesque than the corpse of the aufric that Merlin had left on his bedroom floor.

Gagging, he stumbled out of the room.

Merlin staggered past him and vomited onto the carpet. The sight caused Arthur's stomach to clench, and he choked up what was left of his wine from that evening.

"Close the door!" he rasped.

Still bent over, Merlin reached back and made a tugging motion with his fingers. As though attached to an invisible, the door slammed shut.

"I feel sick," Arthur groaned.

"How do you think I feel?" Merlin retorted into the carpet.

"You're cleaning that up," Arthur snapped, trying to find something else to focus on. "How is no one else not noticing that...that stench?"

"Good question." Merlin straightened. "The answer is magic."

Arthur was beginning to comprehend why Uther would hate it. "That was the most revolting thing I have ever smelled."

"Yes," Merlin agreed, holding his neckerchief up to his nose. "I think I'm going to-"

Quickly, Arthur pushed Merlin down the hallway. "What are we going to do about it? Whose room is that?"

"Guess."

"Lady Catrina?"

"Ding, ding, ding. Give the man a silver seashell."

"What?"

"Figure of speech."

"That was what I was going to tell you. My father is engaged to Lady Catrina."

Merlin's eyes went wide. "Oh, no, no, no, no, he can't do that."

Arthur threw up a hand. "That's what I thought!"

"No, you don't understand." Merlin shook his head. "He can't marry Lady Catrina just because you're a clotpole with unresolved abandonment, grief, and father issues-"

"Excuse me?" He had nothing of the sort.

"-he can't marry her because she's a troll!"

This time, it was the rug that was ripped out from underneath Arthur. "A troll literally or figuratively?"

Merlin rolled his eyes. "Keep up, Arthur. Didn't you smell it? That couldn't be any common human lady with body odor issues."

"Yes, of course, I know that, you blasted idiot."

"Just so we're on the same page. Do you know what a troll is?"

Arthur began to pace in the small corridor in which they had halted. "Vaguely." Trolls did not appear often in Camelot, so Arthur had not paid them much mind - until now.

"Okay, so they're, like, these really ugly creatures that eat maggots and dirt and stuff like that and have an affinity for becoming rich. They're outcasts of the Court, actually, and we don't - well, when I was in the Court, we didn't - like to talk about them very much because they're rather...dirty. And disgusting."

"I gathered."

"I'm guessing that the missive sent to your father by King Cenred - or sent in his name - was to lure you away from the castle so this troll calling herself Lady Catrina could get inside without too much trouble from Camelot's most skilled warriors."

"I bet," Arthur seethed. "Where is she? Can you find her for me?"

Leaning up against the wall between two windows, Merlin crossed his arms. "No."

"Camelot is in danger!"

"The only thing in danger for the moment - please pay attention to those words, Arthur, because they're important - for the moment is the nearest basket of fruit. You can't go barging in and kill her or whatever you were planning to do because what do you think Uther's going to do when you kill his fiance?" Merlin wrinkled his nose. "On second thought, what do you think I'm going to do when you make me clean up your mess? Oh, goodness, the blood-"

"I can't just let my father marry a literal troll!" Although Merlin's point was valid. Uther would be furious. Under an enchantment, he could react by throwing Arthur in the dungeons or even executing him for such a "crime."

"Well…" Merlin cocked his head to the side.

Arthur leveled a hard glare at him. "We cannot."

For some reason, Merlin pushed back the heavy, ornate drape to look out the window. "Fine. We have two options. No, three. We can either stage an accident or have 'Lady Catrina' go mysteriously missing or force her to show her true hand to Uther."

"Stage an accident?" It was a good thing they were standing in such an ill-used hallway. If any servants overheard their conversation, the castle grapevine would flourish for months. "Weren't you just telling me we cannot kill her?"

Merlin flipped a hand. "I said you."

Arthur didn't want to know. "I say...we force her to show her true hand to Uther."

"Why is it 'true hand,' anyway? Why not-"

For crying out loud. "Merlin. Stop prattling."

Merlin shot him a wounded look. "I was just wondering. We need to force her magical disguise to go away, and I think the best way for that to happen would be a nice family dinner."

A nice family dinner?

"Forget it. I say we stage an accident."

…

Morgana twirled a small strand of hair that had escaped from her messy bun around her finger, the look on her face matching the boredom bubbling up inside Arthur.

Although only she, Arthur, Uther, and "Lady Catrina" were sitting at the table, a great distance was between each of them that was only surpassed by the stretching silence.

Since Merlin and the knights had forced Arthur to call this "family dinner," Arthur felt no need to help carry the social burden and start a conversation.

He felt Merlin's disapproving glare on him, but he didn't really care what Merlin thought. It wasn't his family.

It wasn't as though there was anything for him to add when Lady Catrina and Uther seemed to be perfectly content to sit and stare at each other like two worn, pathetic birds.

Arthur didn't like Lady Catrina one bit. She said all of the right, sappy, wrong things to Uther, and they made him want to vomit because he knew what she was like underneath.

Merlin moved forward to refill Arthur's wine goblet. While he was bent over the table, he hissed, "Offer her some food or something. Don't just sit there like a fat depressed toad."

Morgana shot him her third nasty look of the evening.

Arthur sighed and straightened. "Lady Catrina."

She broke off her lovey-dovey staring match with Uther. "Yes, Arthur?"

Arthur forced his lips into a smile. "You've barely touched your food," he pointed out.

Morgana gave him a new look that asked What are you doing?

"Are you feeling ill, my love?" Uther asked, concern knitting his eyebrows. "Is the food not to your liking?"

"Oh." Embarrassed, Lady Catrina smiled and looked down at her lap. "The food is lovely, I'm sure. I'm sorry."

She did not, however, offer an explanation as to why she was avoiding it.

"Really, you should eat," Arthur chided, using his most "I'm concerned about your state of health" tone.

"Yes," Uther agreed immediately. "Have some rolls. Morgana, pass the rolls."

Moodily, Morgana picked up the dish and handed it to Uther.

Gallantly, Uther plucked the fattest one that Arthur had his eye on and offered it to Lady Catrina.

She offered him a reluctant smile and hesitantly took the roll.

Whenever her smile deepened into something more genuine, Arthur's heart sank.

"Thank you, my love," she creened.

Merlin moved forward to refill Arthur's wine even though he'd only imbibed about an inch. "Stop looking like you swallowed a lemon," he whispered.

What in the blue blazes was a lemon?

Probably some strange magical creature.

Arthur kept his gaze on Lady Catrina as she evaluated the roll. Was she going to eat it? Since Merlin was behind his bringing up the food, he assumed that it was vital for some reason.

As Lady Catrina smiled at the bit of bread, it morphed in her hand, turning from fluffy white to black, moldy, and filled with squirming pink worms.

"Oh!" Morgana stood, pushing back her chair. "What are those?"

Uther didn't react as he watched Lady Catrina take a bite out of the roll. "Delicious," she said, rising to her feet. "Thank you for the lovely meal, but I'm feeling a little tired. Do you mind if I retire for the evening?"

"Of course," Uther agreed. "Let me escort you to your room."

And that was when Arthur knew that the situation was even more terribly and awfully wrong.

…

"Arthur!" Morgana hissed as Arthur strode down the corridor. "Stop!"

Arthur halted and turned around. "What is it, Morgana?" He needed to speak with Merlin and the knights. The sooner they sorted this catastrophe out, the better. If Uther wasn't even recognizing magic and fae-ish creatures in front of his own nose...they needed to figure out another line of action.

"I want to know what's going on."

"Nothing's going on."

Morgana rolled her eyes. "I'm not blind, Arthur. I saw what went on in there just like you."

"The knights and I will take care of it. We've dealt with magical threats before, and we'll just have to do it again." Did Morgana have to pick tonight to get on his case?

"Speaking of your knights," Morgana began.

Arthur stiffened. He knew that some people didn't...like his knights because of their heritage, and if Morgana was going to give him any flak-

"Gwen - my maidservant?" Morgana raised her eyebrows.

Arthur frowned in annoyance. "I know who Gwen is. She was with us in Essetir."

"Well, she asked me to speak with you about Merlin."

"Merlin?"

"Yes, she's worried about him. She said he's been acting strange ever since Ealdor and when you returned to Camelot and that it might be related to...well, whatever debacle we just witnessed."

Arthur forced out a laugh. "Merlin is a simpleton. I'm sure whatever Gwen's concerned about is just a result of...who he naturally is. I wouldn't put too much thought into it."

Technically, he wasn't lying, but he felt a bead of sweat roll down his back. Morgana was always too clever for her own good.

Shrewdly, Morgana sized him up. "She said she saw something strange, and I've been noticing other things, too," she started slowly. "Certain things he does when he thinks no one is looking. Especially around metal. Arthur, just when were you going to tell me that your manservant is fae?"