The Power of Three

Chapter Four: Lancelot, Part One

A week had passed since Merlin's poisoning. He had been gaining strength steadily, and Gaius had finally pronounced him well enough to return to work on the morrow. Merlin, as much as he complained about all the work Arthur piled upon him on a regular basis, was quite relieved to be getting back to his job. A week of being cooped up in the physician's chambers was enough to drive anyone mad, even with the regular visits he received from Gwen, Morgana, and, on more occasions than the servant had expected, Arthur.

Arthur, of course, never claimed to be checking up on Merlin. Instead, he concocted a various sundry of half-truths and poorly veiled excuses for knocking upon Gaius's door. Usually he claimed he was stopping by to find out if Merlin was done lazing about, or to ask Gaius a medical question regarding a training injury that he obviously already knew the answer to. Once, he'd gotten very creative and had claimed he was looking for his gloves, which Merlin was sure the prince had purposefully left on Gaius's table the evening before. In a show of gratitude and generosity, Merlin had not acknowledged how easily he saw through Arthur's charade. That didn't necessarily mean that he wouldn't store it away as fodder for a rainy day, though.

Apparently, Arthur wasn't the only one suffering from the lack of someone to do his chores for him. Indeed, Gaius woke Merlin up at the first whisper of dawn on the day the warlock was to return to work. "Oh, good, you're awake," he said, ignoring the incredulous, sleepy look his ward cast at him. "Before you attend to Arthur, I need you to collect some things for me - a certain variety of mushroom that grows at the edge of the Darkling Woods. If you hurry, you will be able to fetch them for me and still make it to Arthur on time."

Groaning, Merlin very nearly rolled out of bed and somehow managed to arrange his feet beneath him in a semblance of standing. "What happened to taking it easy on my first day back?" he grumbled, feeling about in his cupboard for a relatively clean shirt.

"Picking mushrooms is easy," Gaus insisted, barely giving Merlin time to tie his neckerchief before ushering him out of his bedroom door. "I dare say the fresh air will do your body some good."

"Oh, so you're doing me a favor."

If Gaius detected the sarcasm in Merlin's voice, he did a good job of hiding it. "Indeed. And here-" An apple was placed into his hand. "Be sure to eat it all. You need all the nutrients you can get."

"Mmm-hmm," Merlin mumbled over a mouthful of fruit. Merlin's stomach had been rather off since he'd drank the poison - apparently the antidote didn't completely flush his system of the effects of drinking from a cup tainted with the Morteus flower. He'd just graduated back to solid foods recently, and Merlin was beginning to tire of the long, critical glances he would receive regularly from his mentor, often preceding a thin-lipped remark about how he'd lost more weight than he could afford. Apparently his concerns had spread to Merlin's other friends as well, as Morgana had ordered a full meal fit for royals just yesterday evening and stood over him, arms crossed, until he'd eaten all he could handle.

Though it pained him to admit it, Gaius appeared to have been right. The fresh morning air, still damp with dew, reinvigorated Merlin. He woke up completely on his stroll to the woods' edge, and even found himself humming a chipper tune as he foraged for the mushrooms Gaius had requested: "The small white ones, Merlin, not the large, brown ones. Make sure you remember correctly this time."

Well, Gaius had been right about the fresh air right up until the beaked, winged beast from hell attacked. It came seemingly out of nowhere, barrelling out of the deeper wood on bird-like, taloned front feet and great lumbering back paws, its tawny hide and lion's tail transitioning to bronze feathers and an eagle's head. Merlin was reminded vaguely of the description Arthur had given of the creature he'd fought - the cockatrice - when on the quest for the Morteus leaf. Before Merlin had time to reflect further, or, more importantly, to think up a spell - any spell - that might save his life - the creature was upon him, reared back on feline haunches, deadly talons raised to strike, and all Merlin could think to do was frantically crab-walk backwards, far too slowly, and his magic seemed to have retreated in fear, and what spell would be effective against this monster, anyway?

Just as the creature was poised to strike, another figure launched into the clearing, sword held aloft, a battlecry heralding his attack. The beast's attention diverted, it turned to the newcomer, screeching as only a bird of prey can, claws slashing, beak snapping angrily at the attack. The warrior dodged the onslaught with a fluidity that Merlin had only ever seen Arthur exhibit in training, then lunged the sword into the creature's flank.

He tried to, anyway. The weapon snapped like a twig upon meeting the beast's hide, and the monster made another infuriated leap at Merlin's rescuer, who skirted out of the way just in time, then sprinted right at Merlin, grabbed his arm, and pulled him along, yelling "RUN!"

Merlin respected a fighter who knew when to make a tactical retreat just as much - more even - than one who stubbornly fought to the bitter end, and picked up the pace, leaping in tandem with the stranger over a fallen log into a small ditch. Together, they huddled in the natural alcove until the sounds of the monster's angry snarls were replaced with beating wings and finally faded into the distance - up and away.

Breathing heavily, Merlin turned to face his rescuer, to see him fully for the first time. He was young, Merlin noted first, probably close to Arthur's own age, with dark, kind eyes, the shadow on his jaw of a man who hadn't shaved in a few days, and dark hair. Like Merlin, he was gasping for air, clutching at a stitch in his side. "You saved me," Merlin grinned. "Thank you!"

"I'm… Lancelot," was the labored response.

"Merlin."

"Nice to meet you, Merlin." The friendly greeting was brought to an abrupt halt as Lancelot lifted his hand away from the stitch in his side, revealing that he had not escaped from his fight unscathed. His right hand, as well as his lower left abdomen, was streaked with red. "I think it got me," he admitted, his voice fading into silence as his eyes fluttered closed.

It took close to an hour for Merlin to get his new friend back to Camelot. The trek to the woods had been quick, but with an injured man much heavier than Merlin fading in and out of consciousness slung over the already weakened servant's shoulder, it was mid-morning by the time Merlin and Lancelot collapsed through Gaius's door, into a heap on the floor.

"Merlin!" the old physician exclaimed, helping the exhausted boy to his feet and then beckoning for Merlin to help him hoist the unconscious stranger onto the patient's cot. "I send you to pick mushrooms, and you come back with a fully-grown man! Explain yourself!"

As Merlin recounted his adventure in the forest, Gaius examined his new patient, lifting his tunic to reveal an ugly, but thankfully shallow, slash across the left side of his torso. "You are lucky to have escaped with your lives," Gaius pronounced gravely. Merlin had noticed more than once that his mentor had quite the knack for stating the obvious.

"What about Lancelot?" Merlin asked, and Gaius saw true worry in his ward's eyes. "Will he be all right?"

"The wound is shallow," Gaius answered, "and you got him to me before infection could fester. He will be sore, but after a good night's rest, he should be on his feet tomorrow."

Merlin's grin was infectious, but Gaius was a master at fighting against infections of all kinds and merely lifted an eyebrow at the young man. "I will take care of your new friend," he said, "but you, Merlin, need to get to Arthur. He came in here not long ago demanding to know why you weren't attending him."

Merlin winced. "Was he angry?"

Rolling his eyes, Gaius acknowledged, "I daresay he was, but I think he might have been a bit concerned that you were still too unwell to return to work."

Merlin gave a hopeful half-smile that Gaius immediately crushed with his next statement: "Of course, he became truly angry after I informed him that you were lollygagging in the forest."

Merlin's mouth fell open in indignation. "You were the one who sent me there!" he protested. Gaius noted in amusement that his voice had lifted quite significantly in pitch. "And it wasn't my fault I wasn't back sooner - I was being attacked by a lion-bird thing!"

"I couldn't have known that." Despite the haughtiness in his voice, Gaius, found himself fighting a smile as he regarded his ward. "Now, stop wasting time. I'll inform the king about the attack and begin researching the creature; Uther needs to know if there is a threat such as this so close to Camelot."

Arthur's irritation flared up as his servant burst into his chambers, but it dimmed somewhat when he noticed how pale, skinny, and exhausted the boy looked. Still, it wouldn't do to let the secret sorcerer know that he was concerned, especially after he'd ruined Arthur's plans to drop the truth on him first thing in the morning. Arthur had cleared his morning, knowing that he and the servant would have a lot to talk about, but Merlin had been so late that the prince was going to have to delay this discussion - again - as he would be having lunch with his father shortly.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Merlin?" Arthur snapped, rising to his feet so that he could glare imperiously down upon his servant.

Merlin, at least, had the propriety to look at least slightly sheepish. He even offered an apology, which surprised his master even more. "Sorry, Arthur. Gaius sent me to pick mushrooms this morning and-"

"And he said you should have been back in time for work," Arthur finished dryly. "So what happened? Did you see a butterfly and have to chase it?" The royal's words were iced thickly with sarcasm.

Adopting a more defensive stance, arms crossed over his chest, Merlin retorted with more of his usual spirit (the concerned part of Arthur breathed a quick sigh of relief), "That 'butterfly' was from the pits of hell, and it did the chasing, thank you very much. I'm lucky to be alive!"

Thoroughly nonplussed, Arthur managed, "There… there was a butterfly? What are you on about, Merlin?" He fought the urge to stride forward and feel the servant's forehead. Was he having a relapse from the poison? Was he feverish, hallucinating?

Merlin's response sent chills down his spine. "Not a butterfly. It was… something else."

True concern creeping over him, Arthur growled, "If you're making this up as an excuse to get out of trouble…"

"I swear I'm not. You can ask Gaius. He's treating the man who saved my life."

Arthur's eyes widened as he realized how sincere his servant was, and also how close of a call Merlin seemed to have had. The prince couldn't help but wonder why Merlin had needed saving, though - why hadn't his magic been enough? The thought of a creature so powerful that Merlin hadn't been able to fight it off at all sent real fear racing through Arthur's body.

"Who?" the prince asked, trying to put his thoughts in some kind of order.

"His name is Lancelot," Merlin supplied. "He was injured in the fight, but Gaius said he'll be just fine. He saved me," he repeated.

"So I heard," Arthur grumbled. "Not sure if I should thank him or punish him." He rose and headed for the door, knowing that he had to speak to his father as soon as possible. Merlin's story could only spell trouble for Camelot.

Ignoring the jab, Merlin followed closely behind Arthur as the prince left the room. "But the thing, Arthur, the creature that attacked us was like nothing I've ever seen! It was half-bird-"

"Please don't say half-lizard," Arthur pleaded, recalling with perfect clarity the ferocity of the cockatrice. Then again, he had killed it fairly swiftly, so maybe another wouldn't be so bad.

Any hopeful thoughts were cast aside at Merlin's response. "No. It was more like a lion."

Arthur's heart sunk. "How big was it?"

Merin's answer was not even slightly encouraging. "Bloody massive."

Shaking his head, Arthur accused, "You just attract trouble, don't you, Merlin? First the clay monster, then the poison, and now this?"

Arthur could hear the pout in Merlin's voice. "It's not my fault. I'm just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

Or maybe the right place at the right time, Arthur couldn't help but add in his mind. After all, the first two instances had resulted in Merlin's saving Arthur's own life - even Camelot. The prince thought grimly that it was quite likely that Camelot would end up needing Merlin's help with this one too.

Lancelot was awake when Merlin got home from work. Merlin found him alone, flipping through one of Gaius's many tomes at the table. He stood when Merlin entered, something that the servant had never experienced from anyone in his life and that threw him completely off guard.

"Merlin." Lancelot's voice was steady and strong now that he was on the mend, and it had a warmth that further affirmed that Merlin was right to trust him.

"How are you feeling?" Merlin asked.

"Much better, thank you. Gaius does his work well." Merlin thought fondly that he had never met a man as polite as Lancelot.

Crossing to the stove, where Merlin was pleased to see that Gaius had warmed some stew, he agreed. "Sorry that I wasn't here when you woke up," he offered. "After he heard about what happened to us this morning, Arthur dragged me to the council room and made me recount everything to his father." Wrinkling his nose, he added, "And then I spent the rest of the day mucking Arthur's horses, washing his dirty socks, polishing his armor…"

"Wait - did you say Arthur? As in the prince?" Lancelot questioned. Merlin turned from spooning stew into a bowl at the eagerness in his voice.

"Uh, yeah."

"You know Prince Arthur?"

"Yes, I'm his servant. But I promise, he's not that impressive. Trust me, you'll get tired of him really quickly."

Lancelot didn't laugh, but the intensity in his eyes softened a bit. Merlin, a bowl in each hand, slid one across the table to his new friend and kept one for himself. Sinking onto the bench across from Lancelot, he questioned, "Why are you so keen to meet him, anyway?"

A small sigh puffed from the other man's lips and he dropped his eyes to the food in front of him. He didn't seem very interested in eating. "It's just… I came here hoping for a chance to speak to him face-to-face. All my life, I've dreamed of-"

The front door opened and Gaius bustled in, a basket of empty vials clinking in his weathered hands. "Sorry, hold that thought," Merlin interrupted apologetically.

As Merlin helped Gaius with his load, the old man glanced over to the table and nodded approvingly. "Good, you're both eating. You need to keep up your strength." Addressing Lancelot: "It's nice to see you awake. Merlin tells me you saved his life this morning."

A faint blush peppered Lancelot's face. "I didn't do much of anything, really. I only helped him escape - my weapon would not touch the beast."

Gaius puttered to the stove and started doling out his own dinner. "So Merlin said. I am researching the creature now so that when the knights of Camelot inevitably face it, they will know how to kill it."

At the mention of the knights, Merlin noted that Lancelot's eyes lit up, and he connected the dots from their previous conversation. "Oh, I get it!" he exclaimed suddenly, sliding over to make room for Gaius at the table. "You want to join the knights! That's why you're asking about Arthur."

Lancelot nodded. "All my life I have trained for this moment. It has always seemed to be a distant dream, but now I feel like it must be fate. The first person I met upon approaching Camelot was you, Merlin, the personal servant of the head of the knights. Perhaps it is meant to be after all!"

Beaming, Merlin agreed, "You'll make an excellent knight, Lancelot! I'll speak with Arthur first thing in the morning and-" He broke off as an especially grave-looking Gaius cleared his throat. "What's wrong, Gaius?"

Ignoring Merlin's question, Gaius instead turned to Lancelot. "Tell me, Lancelot - do you happen to be of noble birth?"

After a moment of stunned silence, Lancelot shook his head, his eyes twinkling. "Oh, no." He chuckled, then reinforced, "Good Lord, no." The knowing frown on Gaius's face quelled his amusement at once. "Why do you ask?"

Merlin watched as Lancelot's jovial spirit was crushed with Gaius's next statement: "It is the First Code of Camelot, I'm afraid. Only those from a noble family can be knighted."

Lancelot's gaze fell once more to his uneaten stew. "I see."

Merlin, however, was not cowed so easily. "That's rubbish!" he proclaimed. "Who says that nobles are the only ones good enough to fight for Camelot? I saw Lancelot fight," he entreated Gaius. "He was as good and brave as Arthur! Why shouldn't he have the chance to fulfill his dream?"

Gaius glared out at his ward from behind bushy, indignant eyebrows. "You seem to forget that I am not the all-powerful sovereign of this land, Merlin," he deadpanned. "Do not give me grief for a law that I did not create." His expression softened, and he patted Merlin gently on the arm. "I am sorry, my boy - to you as well, Lancelot - but when Camelot was still young, the king did not know who to trust, so he decreed that only those from families that he knew well - those of noble bloodlines - were to protect his kingdom. It has always been this way."

Merlin scoffed. "And because it's always been this way, that's how it will always be? Gaius, that way of thinking is backwards and wrong! You're telling me that Uther is going to pass up a worthy fighter who will protect his kingdom to the end because of some stupid, archaic old tradition?"

Unimpressed by Merlin's impassioned speech, Gaius once again reminded him, "I don't make the rules, Merlin. I just live here." He glanced at Merlin's half-empty bowl and Lancelot's untouched one. "There's nothing but to move on, unfortunately," he advised. "Now, eat, both of you. Merlin, you still aren't back to your full strength, and Lancelot, you need energy to help you heal." When neither despondent young man moved, the old physician barked, "Eat!"

Reluctantly, both Merlin and Lancelot did as Gaius said, but as soon as he had moved away from the table, both men set down their spoons. "I'm sorry, Lancelot," Merlin murmured. Although he knew it to be irrational, he felt like he was somehow to blame for letting Lancelot down. "I didn't realize."

The smile Lancelot flashed him in return was obviously forced, but he backed it up with words that radiated nothing but understanding and acceptance. "It's not your fault, my friend. Who am I to say what is or is not fair in a kingdom I am not even from? I did not write its laws, and I do not rule it, so I cannot speak on whether a law should be in place."

Thinking of another law, just as unjust, Merlin muttered, "Sometimes you don't have to be in charge to know that laws are unfair." Lancelot looked at him quizzically, but Merlin shook his head and asked, "So why do you want to be a knight so badly, anyway?"

He almost regretted asking as Lancelot's dark eyes clouded over with pain. "When I was a child, my village was attacked by bandits. It was like nothing I'd ever seen before. These bandits were different - they came in droves and fought like they had been trained. My… my family was killed in the attack. I lost my parents, and my younger sister."

Tears pricked the corners of Merlin's eyes. His chest ached at the very thought. "I'm so sorry, Lancelot."

"After I barely escaped the attack with my life, I wanted nothing more than to avenge my parents' death, but I was young and weak, and the bandits disappeared as suddenly as they had appeared. So I set my sights on a more attainable goal: Instead of revenge, I would train more and work harder than anyone before me, and one day, I would dedicate my life to protecting innocents like my family, and what better way than to become a knight of the great Camelot? I could prove my worth, prove that I could rise above the misfortune that had befallen me, and help to create a brighter future for those around me." He sighed, a heavy, broken sound. "I suppose I should have actually found out the requirements for becoming a knight before setting my aspirations so high."

Merlin considered this, an idea - a risky, reckless idea - forming in his mind. "Don't give up hope just yet, Lancelot," he ordered. "There may be a way yet."

Lancelot tilted his head in confusion, but Merlin just grinned conspiratorially. "Just trust me," he said, and to his surprise, that's exactly what Lancelot did.

The next morning, Merlin promised Lancelot that he would take him to meet Arthur during the knights' training, and then left to wake Arthur up. He hoped to find Arthur in a good mood, but the prince seemed irritable and distracted from the moment his head left the pillow. "On time for once, are we, Merlin?" he grumbled as his servant picked out his clothes for the day. He'd be training the knights after lunch, so Merlin opted for a simple tunic the prince didn't mind getting dirty.

Merlin sent Arthur a dark look. "Why is it that you're just as unhappy when I'm on time as you are when I'm late?"

"Maybe because you being on time shouldn't be a cause for celebration at all," was the sharp response. "It's a normal part of working a job."

"Funny, I've never seen you work a day in your life." The warlock knew very well that this wasn't true, but usually his good-natured jibes helped cheer Arthur up or distracted him from whatever was weighing on his mind. This time, it didn't work.

"Yeah, well, if you'd actually pay attention to what's going on around you once in a while," the prince growled. "Are you nearly finished?" Merlin quickly replaced Arthur's night shirt with the tunic and stepped back.

"Done." He considered Arthur carefully for a long moment. "Is everything all right, Arthur?" The earnest concern in his voice appeared to work where his teasing hadn't.

Sighing, Arthur scrubbed a hand over his face and meandered over to the table, where his breakfast was waiting. "It's fine, I suppose." When Merlin kept watching him expectantly, he heaved another great breath and clarified, "It's my father. Gaius visited him at first light with news that the creature could be one of magic."

"He mentioned that last night," Merlin acknowledged carefully. "What does that mean?"

An almost calculating look in his eyes as he regarded his servant, Arthur supplied, "According to Gaius, it means that the creature might only be defeated with magic, which of course the king did not take well to."

The probing gaze that Arthur sent his way unnerved Merlin more than he was willing to admit. It was as if Arthur was seeing him - truly seeing him - for the first time since they had met. Like he was waiting for something to happen, or for Merlin to do or say something. Although he had no idea what Arthur was hoping for, the servant felt he had to say something. "But," he said, almost timidly, "magic is outlawed in Camelot."

The expectancy in Arthur's piercing blue eyes devolved into something closer to disappointment, and for some reason Merlin felt his heart racing even though he was standing still. Arthur opened his mouth to speak, but seemed to change his mind at the last minute, closed it, and then asked, "Have you eaten?" The abrupt change of subject caught Merlin completely off-guard.

He blinked. "What?"

"You look even scrawnier than usual. It's hideous to behold," Arthur regarded his servant critically, though there was some jest in his voice. "You look like you could keel over and die at any moment."

It was then that Merlin recognized the sudden shift of topic and the well-intentioned criticism for what it truly was - an olive branch of sorts. What Arthur was offering Merlin a way out of, the servant wasn't sure, but he took it anyway.

"Are you offering to share?" he asked, making a show of ogling the tray of fruits, cheeses, and pastries.

Arthur scoffed. "Absolutely not. It's not my job to make sure you take care of yourself. It's Gaius's."

Offended, Merlin shot back, "I can take care of myself! It's no one's job but my own."

His upper lip curling, Arthur's comeback was swift: "Then you're almost as bad at that job as you are your actual one."

Ouch. And they were back at square one. Regardless, Merlin was much more comfortable on this semblance of solid ground - bickering and all - than he was earlier, when Arthur had been regarding him in a new way, very close to how Morgana had looked at him after finding out his secret. That almost … respect, and high scrutiny were so out of place that Merlin felt much better being insulted by the Arthur he knew rather than regarded so strangely by this new, overly serious version of him.

Arthur began to eat then, and to Merlin's surprise, about halfway through, he tossed an apple his servant's way.

"I thought you weren't going to share," Merlin teased.

"I'm full," the prince lied through his teeth - and a mouth full of bread.

Despite being tired of everyone trying to fatten him up after his illness, Merlin couldn't help but smile, and decided that now that Arthur was in a better temper, now might be the best time to ask him about Lancelot. After all, if he could get Arthur to make an exception, then he might not have to do the illegal and dangerous part of his plan.

"Arthur?"

"Mmmm?"

"I was wondering… what does it take to become a knight?"

Arthur very nearly choked on his breakfast. As Merlin pounded the hacking prince on the back, Arthur's coughing turned to laughter. "You, Merlin? You're wanting to be a knight now? Is being the prince's manservant not as interesting of a job to show up late to every day?" Merlin started to respond, but Arthur barreled over him, "Besides, you'd make a terrible knight. You have absolutely no strength, you're untrained, can barely hold a sword, and I bet you faint at the sight of blood."

"I don't," Merlin argued, "but don't worry. I'd rather you not chase me around with a mace any more than strictly necessary. I'm not asking for me. It's … hypothetical."

He could tell that Arthur immediately knew that it was not hypothetical at all, but to his surprise, he went with it. "All right… if you must know, a knight of Camelot has to be strong, courageous, battle-ready, willing at any moment to put his life on the line for his king, his kingdom, and the innocents he has sworn to protect."

"Great, I -"

"And he must be of a noble bloodline."

Merlin tried not to let his disappointment shine too fiercely. "Okay, but," he propositioned, "What if he was all those things you just mentioned, except for the noble part, and he was really, really polite?"

"Polite?" Arthur was visibly unimpressed.

"You know, polite. A genuinely good person?"

Arthur shook his head slowly. "A fine quality, to be sure, but the First Code of Camelot is that all knights must be nobles."

"What if he was also a hero?" Merlin asked, knowing he was treading a thin line and that Arthur was bound to catch on if he wasn't more careful.

"Merlin, is this about the man who saved you from the creature? Lancelot, was it?" Oops. Perhaps he hadn't been careful enough. Before Merlin could respond, Arthur continued, "I'm sorry, Merlin, but no matter how special of a person you think this man is, if he isn't of noble blood, then he cannot join the knights."

Mind made up about his next move, Merlin backpedaled quickly. "Oh, no, Lancelot is a noble."

Arthur was not convinced. He stood, crossed his arms over his chest, and glared knowingly at his servant. "Right. And all of that talk about letting in a good man without noble blood was merely … hypothetical?"

Having already committed, Merlin saw no reason to back down despite how flimsy his defense had become. "I told you it was," he nodded. "I was just making sure that you only let in the best of the best."

"You are a terrible liar."

"I'm serious!" Merlin insisted. "I'll bring him to meet you today. And…" He thought back to what he had learned in his research last night about noble houses and crests and seals, then continued, "He'll have his seal of nobility to prove it."

Arthur's eyes widened a fraction, and Merlin celebrated at having finally caught him off-guard. "Well then," he said slowly, "I expect to see you both - on time - on the training field this afternoon. We'll see then." He slid the tray closer to Merlin. "Now, take this back to the kitchens and have my armor collected and brought to the training grounds by noon."

As Merlin left the room, a pep in his walk, Arthur narrowed his eyes. Merlin was up to something. He didn't know what it was, but he had become quite good at knowing when Merlin was lying - which was, admittedly, all the time regarding his magic.

He just hoped that whatever the sorcerer had up his sleeve, it wouldn't cause any trouble - for Arthur, for Camelot, or even for Merlin himself.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed the first part of "Lancelot"! I promise that Arthur is going to reveal his knowledge of Merlin's magic in the very near future - you won't have to wait much longer! Also, some people have asked me if this is going to turn into Mergana, and eventually I plan on it, since that seems to be the direction of the show might have been heading if Morgana hadn't turned. I'm not listing romance or any ships at the moment because that's not what's most important right now, but eventually this story will have some elements of Mergana and Arwen. Overall, though, romance is not the main focus of this story.

Thank you to Merille Marc, tea and biscuits for me, Alshert, Gingeraffealene, CrystalFire, Taz, Cdnacho98, general zargon, scylla646, HalloumiHermit, oma13, and Exactly for reviewing the last chapter. Thank you as well to everyone who has read, favorited, and followed. I apologize for not responding personally to reviews; my spare time has been taken up by writing this fic!

I did want to note something really quickly based on something oma13 pointed out - normally I do feel like it might be OOC for Gaius to snap at someone for bursting into the physician's chambers, but we've seen him do similar things before in the show, and ultimately it made sense to me in the context of this story for him to get irritated at someone for interrupting - after all, the boy who is like his son is dying in front of him, and he's also having to worry about the possibility of Merlin doing delirious magic, so someone barging in during this time would, I believe, be a bit stressful. I just wanted to let you all know my reasoning on that. :) Also, to the anonymous reviewer Exactly, I really don't know if I will be writing a Hardy Boys story any time soon. At this point in time, it's pretty unlikely, but thanks for your interest! :)

Finally, I wanted to mention something that I forgot in my A/N for the last chapter: Arthur's horse's name in this story is Anwyn, which I derived from Annwn, which itself stems back to the first known iteration of Arthurian legend, The Spoils of Annwn or The Cauldron of Annwn, an ancient Welsh poem. Just a fun nerdy tidbit I enjoyed putting in there. :)

Anyway, please review and let me know what you thought of this part. There will be two more parts to "Lancelot" (already written). I'm also already part way through writing "A Remedy to Cure All Ills" at the moment, too, so you should continue to see regular updates! Thanks so much for your support, everyone - it means the world!

~Emachinescat ^..^