A/N: Inspired by the episode of the same name in Buffy the Vampire Slayer.


For once, Merlin didn't wake him with a far too cheery, "Up and at 'em, lazy daisy!"

Instead, the covers were ripped off him, and Arthur was unceremoniously all but dragged out of bed.

The why of this quickly became clear, at least partially: one of Merlin's neckerchiefs had been stuffed in his mouth and another tied around it to keep it in.

Since Merlin's hands were still very self-evidently free, however, Arthur was at something of a loss as to why Merlin hadn't removed the gag some poor soul Arthur rather sympathized with had presumably imposed upon him.

He contemplated this from the floor for a moment before pushing himself to his feet. "Not that I don't appreciate the silence . . ." he began.

Merlin impatiently grabbed his arm and dragged him over to the window. Arthur skidded on the blanket that was still puddled on the floor and took a moment to glare at Merlin before turning to see what was so important.

Down in the courtyard, the laundresses were . . . singing. And dancing. With surprising coordination.

Which was unexpected and a little inefficient, but since they were singing about cracked, aching hands, and, not, say, their desire to overthrow his father and take up witchcraft, Arthur wasn't sure what was so urgent about it, or why it was his problem instead of the steward's.

"What, did they try to make you sing with them?" he asked in some amusement.

Merlin rolled his eyes and dragged him over to the desk.

"You know, Merlin, I think you really need a reminder on when it's appropriate for you to manhandle your prince. I'll summarize for you: Never."

Merlin was too busy scribbling something on a spare piece of parchment to answer him. Arthur peered over his shoulder while he wrote.

"What do you mean everyone's singing? I'm obviously not - Well, if it's not all the time, why didn't you write that in the first place?"

Merlin wrote curse in huge letters and underlined it three times.

"Ah." Well, it was obviously magic of some kind. "We've seen worse," he said.

It's not all singing about laundry, Merlin wrote darkly. People are singing about their deepest secrets and feelings. It's caused at least three screaming matches so far this morning.

"Alright, maybe it is a bit concerning," he admitted. They couldn't have people spilling state secrets left and right, and he didn't fancy being forced to sing about how he felt about Guinevere in front of his father. "What big secret are you so desperate to hide then?"

Merlin froze.

The memory of Merlin bringing flowers to Morgana suddenly occurred to him, and he fought back a grin. "You know, I'm sure Morgana would be very kind about it if you sang to her," he said with mock seriousness.

Merlin stayed frozen for another moment before jerking back to life and scribbling Uther on the parchment.

Arthur winced. "Ah. Yes. Perhaps you should keep that in for a little longer after all." He clapped Merlin on the back. "Cheer up! It's still better than the unicorn's curse."

Merlin looked like he thought that might be debatable.


Whatever else it did, the curse at least made the morning's council meeting far more interesting than usual. Grain was grain, but it was at least a little less dull when sung about in a three-part harmony.

And part of that harmony included one of the barons admitting to embezzling the crown's funds, so it was at least a useful curse as curses went.

His father didn't seem to take his view of the matter. Unfortunately, his feelings about it were apparently strong enough to trigger the curse.

It wasn't that his father had a bad singing voice. It was just that hearing him bellow about how much he hated witchcraft while a chorus of ominous sounding drums played from . . . somewhere . . . was at least a little disturbing.

Especially since he danced on the table while he was doing it.

The sweeter, softer ending about how much he missed his wife was . . . well, Arthur had to admit, if only to himself, that he had been hungry to hear more.

It was just that when the song was over, no one quite dared to meet Uther's eyes for fear of who he would lash out at after this humiliation.

Arthur really wasn't surprised when a couple of hours later all the guards were marching out into the city as they sang in chorus, "Burn the witch!"


Then they got the news that some of the dancers were literally dancing themselves to death - going up in flames as they spun themselves frantically.

Arthur wondered if Merlin's method was really saving him, or if he'd just gotten lucky so far. If he hadn't gotten lucky, maybe soon they'd all be doing it.

Arthur himself hadn't gotten caught up in it yet.

"Emotional control," he told Merlin with more confidence than he felt. "That's the key."

Merlin looked skeptical.


It all came to a head at dinner when Uther smiled at Morgana and told her once again how glad he was to have her home, and how she wasn't to worry, they would catch and kill this new witch soon.

Morgana smiled back, opened her mouth -

And threw her chair back as she began to sing about how Uther was blind as a bat not to realize there was a witch right there at his table, that she was fooling them all, and she would see them all dead as soon as she could.

As soon as the first words came out of her mouth, her eyes went wide with terror. The rest of the room sat frozen in horrified shock as her volume rose and her dance grew ever faster.

Smoke was rising from her dress.

Arthur jolted out of his seat.

He couldn't - he couldn't think about what she was saying. Not right now.

But he had just gotten her back, and no matter what she was, he couldn't just stand back and watch her burn.

He ran forward and grabbed her shoulders, patting frantically at the licks of flame crawling up her dress. He held on tightly until even the force of the spell couldn't keep her spinning.

"Better to burn on my own terms," she hissed.

"I'll never let you burn," he promised, and he could feel notes rising up in his throat, choking him, and no, he couldn't start a duet with her now, she'd never survive another song so soon -

She wrenched away from him with a wild look and vanished in a shower of sparks.

So that was pretty much supper over.


Half the castle was out looking for Morgana although it wasn't quite clear if that was to rescue her or for . . . other reasons.

Officially, Arthur was doing that too, but he had allowed Merlin to drag him to Gaius's rooms instead. Merlin's tugs had been insistent, and Arthur was still too much in shock to fight him over it.

Gaius was apparently elsewhere - calming Uther down, hopefully - but apparently Merlin hadn't been looking for him anyway. Instead, Merlin pulled him over to a book open to an illustration of a creature with an extraordinarily pointy chin.

"This is what's been causing this?" Arthur checked.

Merlin nodded frantically.

"Can I kill it with a sword?"

Merlin looked down at the text again and shrugged helplessly.

"Good enough for me. Any idea where it is?"

Merlin pointed at an amulet illustrated below the creature.

"It's wherever that is?"

Merlin nodded again.

"And that is . . . ?"

Merlin paused to think about how to mime that one.

Arthur sighed in frustration. "Just take that thing off and tell me already. If you start singing about how Morgana broke your heart, I promise to keep it to myself."

How Morgana broke your heart. The words shifted uneasily in his chest, but he refused to think about it too much. They could still bring her back. Somehow. She hadn't done anything irrevocable yet.

Merlin went very still before very slowly removing the first neckerchief and then spitting out the other one.

"I saw it in a visiting noblewoman's room," he said quickly. "Lady Eleanora's."

"There. Was that so hard? You can put it back in now."

Merlin reached for the now disgusting neckerchief, but he hesitated. "You didn't let Morgana burn."

Arthur tensed. "No."

Merlin nodded and bit his lip before shoving the neckerchief away.

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Ready to share your secrets after all?"

"I'm leaving it to destiny," Merlin said determinedly. "If I sing, I sing. And if I don't - then it's not time. Yet."

"That's sounds like leaving it to the curse, not destiny," Arthur pointed out.

Merlin grinned at him weakly. "Everything's destiny, Arthur. Now let's go kill this thing."

Since Arthur felt a desperate need to stab something, he could hardly refuse.

Of course, he could hardly resist the opportunity for a good-natured jab, either.

"Us? And just what help do you think you're going to be on this little expedition, Merlin?"

Merlin's mouth opened – presumably to deliver a snappy retort – and music began to swell.

Merlin's eyes went wide with panic. Whatever he'd said, apparently, he wasn't quite ready to share after all.

Arthur clapped a hand over his mouth. "On second thought, I refuse to have your singing inflicted upon me. You can tell me your secrets the old-fashioned way. After this curse is broken."

Merlin nodded a frantic agreement. The music faded.

"But Merlin?"

"Mmhm?"

"You will be telling me."