Another's Favor by ebhg

Rating: T

Pairings: Merthian/Arwen

Spoilers: Series 1-4 and bits and pieces of Series 5.

Disclaimer: Merlin belongs to BBC.

A/N: Hee hee hee. I love this chapter. If you enjoyed Dolma and have laughed whilst reading any previous portion of this story, you may want to read this in private. ;D


Investigation

Sitting in the dark, save for the dim light flickering from his hearth, Lord Vidor pouted silently at the failure of the assassination attempt. No doubt the king and Merlin would now be more on guard, making another attempt even more difficult. Sarrum was supposed to be the best when it came to such matters, and yet the warlock had stubbornly refused to die. Taking another sip of his wine, Vidor swore when a firm knock echoed through his chambers, startling the noble from his petulant reverie, causing him to spill the red wine down his silk shirt.

"Who is it?!" Vidor asked irritatedly, wiping ineffectually at the wine spilled down his front. The noble spun around in indignation when the door opened behind him and an unwelcome visitor stepped in.

"It is I, Sarrum."

"I did not give you permission to enter!" Vidor blustered angrily, slamming his goblet onto the table as he stood to confront the leader of the Amata.

"No, I gave myself permission. I came for my payment."

"The warlock isn't dead yet," Vidor protested angrily.

"He did prove rather heartier than I expected. That much foxglove ought to have dropped a horse within just a few minutes, let alone a man as insubstantial as the warlock. But you can't honestly believe that he survived. He most assuredly died before he got to the physician's chambers."

"Don't be so sure. Merlin has the bad habit of continually surviving the most dangerous confrontations unscathed. In any case, I saw the drunkard knight give the king a nod, and then the king smiled at the queen's brother. Merlin must be alive still."

"A nod and a smile could mean anything," Sarrum contradicted. Lord Vidor scoffed and shook his head.

"You don't know King Arthur. He is a sentimental fool who wears his heart on his sleeve. If the impertinent whelp had died I'm sure Arthur would have held a vigil right then and there. The king's attachment to the warlock is second only to the attachment he has to the peasant queen. I'm not giving you a single coin until I see the mourners with candles in hand."

"I organized the job. I am sure he is dead!"

"He isn't! I don't owe you anything until you've done the job properly."

"Then I want double, if you're so sure he still lives. Such a difficult mark will require additional incentive. I'll have my man keep an eye out for Merlin, if he managed to survive. If he did, he won't last another day. I will have my payment now."

"Out of the question!" Vidor protested. "I will not give you anything until I see irrefutable proof that the bastard is dead!"

"You've no idea who you're dealing with. Give me my payment, now."

"I know exactly who I'm dealing with. An upstart braggart who can't follow through. You're not even a proper king!"

Lord Vidor's eyes went wide after he finished his rant, looking down in utter shock, unable to comprehend the long knife suddenly sticking out of his belly.

"No one talks to me that way," Sarrum growled, yanking the knife out with a twist and wiping it on Vidor's sleeve before he crumpled to the ground. "Especially not an upstart braggart who thinks he's better than me. I'll just take what you owe me now."

The ruler of Amata wasted no time searching through the nobleman's belongings, quickly finding a small chest full of gold coins. Vidor lay on the floor, groaning as he bled out.

"Enjoy your death," Sarrum said cruelly as he stepped over Vidor and made his exit, latching the door behind him.

"Interesting company you keep," a voice called out of the darkness. Sarrum spun towards it, his free hand already seeking his knife.

"Who's there," the leader of the Amata called out, his voice steely.

"An interested accomplice," King Alined said, stepping out of the shadowy alcove he stood in.

"What are you interested in?" Sarrum demanded, not trusting the slimy king one bit. He began walking down the corridor, though Alined simply followed.

"You tried to poison the warlock, tonight, did you not?"

"I'll tell you nothing," Sarrum answered.

"Well, I don't blame you. But I'll tell you something. This is not the first time I have tried to thwart Camelot's efforts for peace."

"You obviously didn't succeed the first time, which tells me you are a failure. Goodnight," Sarrum said, putting on a burst of speed to outpace Alined.

"Just like you failed tonight?" Alined called smugly. Sarrum immediately froze, turning to face Alined with a furious expression.

"I do not fail."

"The warlock in the physician's chambers would beg to differ."

"What do you know?" Sarrum growled.

"Vidor may have been a fool, but he wasn't an imbecile. I saw Arthur's reaction, just as everyone else did. The King of Camelot is a sentimental man. Merlin was his manservant the last time I was here."

"Isn't that special," Sarrum said mockingly.

"It is, actually, if you'd use your head. My man at the time said that he was sure Merlin was behind our failure to spark hostilities between Olaf and Uther using Arthur and the Lady Vivian."

"I heard Arthur talking with Olaf tonight. The Lady Vivian is nearly mad with her affection for Camelot's esteemed ruler," Sarrum sneered. "Arthur told Olaf that Vivian needed true love's kiss. It's unnatural. You used magic."

"Magic can be a very useful tool," Alined said, chuckling softly. "A very great advantage, as Merlin's unlikely survival attests."

"Any man can be killed. Magic does not make him unkillable."

"Yes, that is true," Alined conceded. "But if you want to kill the warlock, you'll have to use magic."

"I suppose that's where you come in?" Sarrum asked, looking from one end of the deserted corridor to the other before coming to a halt. "You like magic. Why are you doing this? What's in it for you?"

"My father and his father before him, built my kingdom on the proceeds of war. There is no profitability in peace."

"And you think killing one warlock will start a war?" Sarrum asked doubtfully.

"No, I don't. That's why I've set my sights a bit higher. I want to kill Arthur. He's the one who has called the summit, he's the one who is touting the benefits of peace. If he dies, the talks will die with him."

"Or you risk making a martyr of him," Sarrum argued.

"That's where killing the warlock comes in. They are the figureheads in all this. With no clear leader, we'll fall back into our usual squabbles."

"I will take care of the warlock," Sarrum offered. "Such unnaturalness needs to be eradicated. You take care of Arthur."

"Pleasure doing business with you," Alined said with a triumphant smile. Sarrum said nothing in reply but scowled at the king's back as he continued down the corridor.


It was agreed that Merlin and Mithian would stay in Gaius' chambers for the night. Daegal volunteered to take the patient's cot, allowing Merlin and Mithian the use of his old room. There was considerably less room in Merlin's old bed compared to the one they shared in their chambers, but somehow they both managed to stay on the narrow mattress. At least they did until Arthur and Gwen burst in at the first light of dawn, the queen's arms full of a bundle of silk dresses.

At the sound of the door hitting the wall, Merlin slid off the bed onto his backside, only just managing to keep himself from bouncing Arthur off a magical wall as he had when the king had charged in with the news that he was to be a father.

"Rise and shine!" Arthur called far more cheerfully than he ever had at such an hour.

"What are you so happy about?" Merlin asked irritatedly.

"It's time to get dressed!" the king said happily.

"I've got a dress here for Mithian and some things to try for you," Gwen said with a smile. Arthur gleefully jerked his thumb towards the pile of silk in his wife's arms.

"We've got a lovely little selection here for you to choose from."

"You're enjoying this too much," Merlin groused, standing slowly and stretching his stiff muscles.

"Did you manage to find something long enough?" Mithian asked, joining Gwen in the perusal of the gowns.

"I think so. These dresses once belonged to Sir Owain's mother. She was a rather large woman."

"But will the fashion be right?" Mithian wondered.

"Well, Princess Dolma's age would account for any lapse in fashionability," Gwen reasoned. "Can you do an old woman, Merlin?"

"How should I know? I've not exactly tried it before," Merlin answered. "Stop grinning so smugly, Arthur. It's not kingly."

"Of course it is," Arthur argued. "I'm the king. Therefore, grinning like this is kingly."

Merlin rolled his eyes and reluctantly joined the women in searching through the gowns.

"I'm definitely not wearing that one, that is ghastly," Merlin said, wrinkling his nose at a garish yellow dress embellished with feathers at the neckline.

"Here, how's this one?" Gwen said, pulling out a blue dress with elaborate embroidery and beads.

"Isn't it a little..." Merlin trailed off, wrinkling his nose.

"Girlish?" Arthur offered gleefully.

"I was thinking pretentious," Merlin said, folding his arms.

"Here's one that I think will work," Gwen said, pulling out a black dress with a hood attached.

"That's perfect," Mithian said. "My Aunt Dolma has been mourning my uncle for at least ten years."

"Alright, Merlin, work your magic," Arthur said, smiling triumphantly.

"In front of you and Gwen?!" Merlin asked.

"Why not?" Arthur asked.

"Because I... have to get undressed... and... I'm... going to be a woman," Merlin finished awkwardly. Arthur nodded, his composure failing completely. Gwen took pity on Merlin and ushered the laughing king out into the main room.

"Are you alright with me being in here?" Mithian asked teasingly.

"Of course," Merlin answered. "Besides, I'll need you to help me figure out how to put on this dress."

Merlin tossed the dress in question onto the bed and let out a resigned sigh.

"Here goes," he muttered, then closed his eyes and took a deep breath as he incanted, "Beþeccan mé. Adeadaþ þisne gast mín; áwendednes mín andwlita geniwung crencestre."

Mithian watched in stunned amazement as Merlin changed before her eyes. His hair grew longer and the color faded to grey. Merlin's vibrant eyes dulled with age and his spine bent ever so slightly under the weight of years. His smooth skin wrinkled, developing age spots even as Merlin's sharp cheekbones rounded and his brow became less defined. Mithian raised her eyebrow, though, at Merlin's missing bosom.

"Merlin? Your face looks very feminine, but the rest of you is, shall I say, rather lacking?"

"Well, I wasn't going to make myself entirely female. I've aged my whole body, but I've only made my face look feminine. The first time I aged myself I got stuck at eighty years old until Gaius could make me a potion to reverse it. I didn't fancy the thought of being stuck as a woman."

Mithian bit her lip to keep herself from laughing aloud at the thought.

"Help me get the dress on?" Merlin asked pitifully. Mithian giggled at the look on Merlin's face and helped him out of his own clothes and into the dress. Merlin looked at the ceiling as Mithian laced it as snugly as she could.

"I said it before, but I'll say it again. You women are mad to wear this every day."

Mithian chuckled and pulled the laces just a bit tighter, causing Merlin to yelp in shock.

"What was that my love?" Mithian asked impishly.

"Nothing, I didn't say anything," Merlin denied. Mithian grinned and tied the laces, then stepped back to give Merlin a good look.

"Let's see what Arthur and Gwen think," she said, frowning slightly at the fit of the dress. Merlin sullenly followed Mithian into the main chamber, steeling himself for Arthur's reaction, especially.

"What do you think?" Mithian asked, prompting Arthur, Gwen and Gaius to look in their direction. Mithian stepped out of the way, revealing a recalcitrant Merlin, disguised as Princess Dolma of Nemeth. Just as Merlin expected, Arthur immediately began laughing anew, bending nearly double as he tried to gain control of himself.

"Ha ha ha," Merlin said, scowling at the king.

"Well, the voice is definitely going to need some altering," Gwen chuckled. "But otherwise, you look..."

"Terrible?" Merlin offered.

"I was thinking lovely," Gwen said, struggling to remain composed. Merlin rolled his eyes.

"You need to speak a bit higher, Merlin," Gaius instructed, biting his lip to contain his reaction.

"You mean like this?" Merlin asked, adopting a rather high falsetto.

"No, that's too high, it sounds like you're faking it," Gwen protested.

"What do you expect?! I am faking it!" Merlin replied. Arthur just laughed even harder.

"What about your bodice, then?" Gwen asked, looking at Mithian questioningly.

"Yes, that's what I thought as well," Mithian agreed.

"What about it?" Merlin asked, looking down at himself.

"It is rather loose," Gwen answered.

"Loose?! Mithian tied me into this thing as tight as she could! How could it possibly be any tighter?!"

"It is, well, sagging, in the front," Mithian said diplomatically.

"Sagging? What do you mean, sagging?!" Merlin asked in confusion.

"They mean your breasts aren't big enough," Arthur said, finally regaining the power of speech.

"Arthur!" Merlin said, scandalized, as he crossed his arms across his sagging bodice defensively.

"Well, it is true," Gaius agreed.

"Gaius!" Merlin exclaimed, his mouth dropping open in shock.

"What do you think, a bit of wool?" Gwen asked, looking at Mithian inquisitively.

"You don't think that would be too poofy?"

"Poofy?!" Merlin asked in a mild panic, though the ladies ignored him.

"You're probably right. How about a bit of grain in a couple of sacks, with a bit of wool over that?" Gwen replied.

"That will probably work nicely," Mithian agreed brightly.

"I've got just the thing," Gaius answered, turning to his grain barrel and pulling off the lid. "Here they are."

The physician retrieved two small grain sacks from the barrel, dumping most of the grain from each bag into the barrel before handing them to the queen.

"Excellent," Gwen said, hefting them in her hands. "What about the wool?"

"I think I have some over here," Gaius said, moving a still-chuckling Arthur away from a cabinet and rummaging through it. "Here we are."

Gwen and Mithian both took a bit of the wool and shoved it into the top of each sack and tied them off. Merlin's eyes widened in alarm when the two women turned around and grinned disarmingly at him.

"Just what do you intend to do with those?" Merlin asked nervously.

"Don't worry, we're just filling you out a bit," Gwen said comfortingly.

"Filling me out... Do you mean you're going to shove those sacks down my bodice and give me bosoms?!"

"Exactly!" Mithian said cheerfully. "Now hold still."

Arthur had given up on staying on his feet; the king had collapsed into a chair, nearly howling with laughter.

"I didn't fully change myself into a woman, Arthur. Not because I don't know how to, but because I didn't fancy the prospect. That doesn't mean I wouldn't turn you into a woman."

Arthur immediately shut up.

"You wouldn't!" the king protested.

"It's looking more and more appealing," Merlin retorted dryly, narrowing his eyes at the king, trying to ignore the fact that both Gwen and Mithian were shoving things down his top and patting his new breasts, trying to make them look more natural in his dress. Merlin shook his head at the thought.

"This is the last time I am ever doing this," Merlin said, looking at the ceiling to save himself from the indignity he was suffering.

"There, I think you're all set," Gwen said, stepping back to admire her and Mithian's handiwork.

"You're looking quite lovely," Gaius said, only just managing to retain his straight face.

"Let's get this over with," Merlin groused, stomping towards the door.

"You can't walk around the castle like that!" Guinevere protested.

"You just dressed me like this! What else did you expect me to do?!" Merlin asked in exasperation.

"She means you're walking like a man, you need to be lighter on your feet. Graceful, elegant," Mithian explained.

"Merlin? Graceful? Perhaps we'd better rethink this. Merlin couldn't manage graceful even if he was clubbed over the head with it," Arthur said mirthfully. Merlin narrowed his eyes at Arthur and straightened ever so slightly before wordlessly turning around and sashaying quite convincingly out of the room.

"Well, I'd say that worked like a charm," Gwen said in astonishment.

"I'd say it did," Mithian said. "Perhaps we'd better catch up to him, er... her."

"I think we should," Gwen agreed, and the two picked up their skirts and rushed to follow Princess Dolma out the door.


Merlin paused in the hallway, allowing Guinevere and Mithian to catch up to him. Mithian latched onto his arm as though she were guiding her elderly aunt around the palace, and Gwen fell into step on his other side, caressing her growing middle as though they had been discussing babes and birthing all morning.

"Who should we go question first?" Mithian asked, looking between Dolma and Gwen questioningly.

"I think we need to start in the kitchens; there's a trail there that Leon began following last night," Gwen answered. "But, there's a real benefit to having once been a servant."

"Oh?" Mithian asked curiously, smiling in greeting to a few courtier ladies who walked by going the other direction.

"Where Leon may find a dead end, Merlin, I mean, Dolma, and I will find old friends who will talk to us more readily. Of course, Dolma can't really help much in that respect, seeing as she's in disguise," Gwen said, echoing Merlin's words to her when they first met. Mithian smiled at the camaraderie between the queen and warlock.

"The kitchens it is then."


Arthur returned to his chambers to prepare for the meetings of the day, glad for once that George was so very dull. He would be just what the king needed to stop the incessant laughter that bubbled up every time he pictured the look on Merlin's face when Mithian and Guinevere had been shoving grain sack bosoms down the advisor's bodice.

Sure enough, by the time Arthur was prepared for the morning's talks, he was practically yawning. So it was that he found himself standing before the Round Table, somber-faced and composed as the other monarchs filed in and took a seat at the table.

"Good morning," he greeted, making eye contact with all those around the table. "This is indeed a momentous occasion. What we do here today will affect everyone in our kingdoms, today and in the future,"Arthur said, looking around the room once more before taking his seat. Annis took the opportunity to clear her throat, gaining Arthur's attention.

"I must ask you how Merlin is doing this morning?"

Arthur took a deep breath, composing himself, hoping that his expression conveyed concern rather than mirth. At the mention of his advisor, Arthur suddenly had an image of Merlin as Princess Dolma flash through his mind and he nearly snorted. Outwardly, it seemed he was composing himself to convey particularly bad news.

"Merlin is still recovering. It was a very potent poison and my physician has ordered him to stay in bed for a day or so."

"That is too bad," Annis replied. "I had dearly hoped to see him join us in our conversations. I'm sure that as fine a juggler as he is, he makes an excellent negotiator."

Arthur bit his lip, using every last bit of willpower to keep his expression neutral once more.

"I'll be sure to let him know. As sorry as he was to miss our negotiations, I believe he was also disappointed to miss performing for you again."

There was a very good chance that Merlin would make Arthur pay for that, but the king just couldn't resist.

"Now then, let's move on," Arthur said, bringing the meeting back to the topic at hand.


"Audrey the cook despises having trespassers in her domain," Merlin explained to Mithian in a low voice as they descended the steps to the kitchen. "She will yell and make a fuss about us, but don't worry. Audrey's mostly bark, though her ladle has a bit of bite to it."

"A bit?" Gwen asked incredulously. "I've still got a scar on my knuckle from where she cracked me with that ladle nearly ten years ago."

"Is she the one we'll be talking to, then?" Mithian asked.

"Oh, no. But to enter Audrey's kitchen can be a dangerous prospect, even for the queen," Merlin answered, the humor evident in his tone. Gwen smiled at the two of them before pushing the door open and strolling through.

"Who is coming into my kitchen!" Audrey's stern voice bellowed out. "I'm trying to cook for all these bloody kings and queens and I've got people popping into my kitchen right and left! I am not giving out samples here!"

"Audrey," Guinevere said soothingly, drawing the blustering cook's attention. "We just needed to look around, maybe talk to a few people about what happened last night?"

"I'm cookin' for all this extra royalty and you want to distract my help?!" Audrey complained, not caring in the least that it was the queen she was addressing. In her kitchen, she was second to none. "How am I supposed to keep all the food comin' if I'm constantly interrupted!"

"We won't be long," Merlin placated, masking his voice convincingly. "We just need to find out what happened to that poor man last night."

"Poor man? Poor man?! He was always comin' in here trying to steal my dumplings! He was a right shifty one he was! I'm ever so glad he's not a servant any more. Keep him out of my kitchen!" Audrey groused, turning back to the bread she had been beating down just moments before. Mithian and Gwen looked at Merlin's irritated expression with a smile.

"Come on, I know just who to talk to," Gwen said, leading them deeper into the kitchen until they found a brunette woman washing dishes in an enormous wooden tub.

"Meredith?" Gwen asked sweetly, causing the woman to look up in alarm as she realized that the queen was talking to her while she was up to her elbows in grimy water.

"Your Highness!" Meredith exclaimed, dropping the platter she was washing back into the tub and standing as she wiped her hands on her apron, her head bowed low.

"Please, we're friends, aren't we? I'm still Gwen, you know."

"You're still the queen, Gwen," Meredith said with a smile.

"Oh, tosh," Gwen said, smiling at the young woman. "I was wondering, actually, if you'd seen who was pouring the wine from the barrel and into the jugs last night. Or if you knew who took the wine out to Merlin."

"I don't know, I was on dishes duty last night, same as this morning. But Elfa was helping with the wine service. You could ask her, she probably got a good look at the man, as it was. You know how that girl is."

Merlin only just managed to contain his groan at having to question Elfa, but Mithian smiled, having heard plenty from Guinevere about the girl who had long borne a crush on the princess' husband.

"Excellent. Where's Elfa this morning, then?" Gwen asked.

"I think she's collecting the breakfast trays from the guest quarters," Meredith said with a shrug.

"Thank you," Merlin offered in his best womanly tone, smiling at Meredith before the three of them left the kitchen. On their way back up the deserted stairs, Merlin paused and fussed with the front of his dress.

"Whatever is the matter, Princess Dolma?" Gwen asked innocently. Merlin looked up at her and narrowed his eyes as he hefted his grain-enhanced bosom a little higher.

"These things are heavy," he complained, then held his head high as the two women struggled to contain their snickering.

"Try growing a whole other person in your belly," Gwen replied, patting her rounded stomach without any sympathy.

"Good job I'm not a woman, then," Merlin conceded, smoothing his grey locks back from his currently-feminine face. Mithian and Gwen looked to one another, valiantly withholding their laughter as they followed Merlin up the stairs and continued their trek towards the guests' wing of the palace.


Arthur listened intently as the debate continued onward. Gaius had offered his support, sitting in Merlin's usual chair beside the king, though Arthur was loathe to admit that he missed Merlin's council. Numerous topics had been brought to the table, including trade routes, border disputes, water rights, and most debated of all, magic.

"Can any of us really say that we've never used magic?" Annis asked as Bayard and Lot voiced their hesitance in accepting sorcery once more.

"I can say that I have not. In fact it was sorcery that led to my being falsely accused and imprisoned the last time I was here," Bayard said, scowling.

"For which our apologies were offered, then and now," Arthur said peaceably. Bayard nodded grudgingly.

"I have used sorcerers in the past," Lot answered. "Magic was legal during my predecessor's reign, and he embraced the High Priestess Morgause's partnership, but I think we all know that it also lead to his rather premature death."

"I have not used magic myself," Rodor interjected. "But my mother had the gift."

"As do I," Prince Gavin said. Several eyebrows raised around the table, most notably that of King Odin.

"I have no quarrel with magic," Rodor affirmed, nodding proudly at his son.

"Nor I," Odin said, elaborating no further.

"I have seen both its benefits and its pitfalls, but in the end, I believe it is the sorcerer who has to decide the path they will follow," Queen Annis began. "By shunning them we only invite discord and hatred. Morgana Pendragon was an excellent example of that."

Silence fell as all considered Annis' words. Arthur looked around, pleased to see the number of nods around the table.

"Magic has made my daughter nearly mad," Olaf interjected, contradicting his original stance upon arrival. Arthur frowned at the change Olaf had undergone since discovering the true source of Vivian's madness.

"I can guarantee you that she will recover," Arthur said.

"With true love's kiss? And just who is that? Am I supposed to put my daughter's virtue on open offer and hope that someday someone gets lucky?"

"Surely there was someone who Vivian was taken with before she came to Camelot?" Gaius asked helpfully. "Perhaps it will not be a random man, but someone she already knew and had some previous affection for."

Olaf's brow furrowed at the physician's advice, sitting back in his chair thoughtfully. Arthur hoped that Olaf came around; of all the other kingdoms represented, Olaf's was the closest to the encroaching Saxon threat.

"I believe that we should be accepting of those with magic," Princess Elena offered, looking to Prince Gavin with a smile. Mithian's brother grinned in return, giving a quick nod of thanks.

"I believe my position is well known," Arthur said as the conversation died down. "Merlin is, by far, one of the most humble, self-sacrificing men I've ever known. I'm glad to call him friend and embrace a world in which he and others like him can live without fear. But we have not heard from you, King Alined, or you, Sarrum. What is your stance on magic?"

"I've no opinion on the matter at the moment," Alined said vaguely. "Though I can't help but worry..."

"What is it that troubles you?" Arthur asked, hiding his frustration at Alined's refusal to state his opinion. Alined grinned as though pleased at the turn of the conversation.

"Emrys is said to be the most powerful sorcerer to ever walk this earth. If you have Merlin, this so called Emrys of the Druids, under your control, what choices do the rest of us have in opposing Camelot? You will just send your warlock after us if we do not comply."

Every head turned to Arthur; the King of Camelot was disappointed to see alarm and suspicion glimmering in Bayard and Lot's eyes.

"I swear that I will do no such thing," Arthur vowed.

"What good is that to us," Sarrum growled. Arthur's brow furrowed at the subtle insult.

"I suppose you will have to take my word of honor as a knight and have faith that I am as honorable as I profess to be. I am not about to force any of you to accept magic in your kingdoms. That is not what this peace summit is about. First and foremost, I hope to end the widespread persecution of peoples with magic. If that means that you will banish such people rather than execute them, they will be welcome in Camelot."

"And Nemeth," Rodor interjected. Arthur nodded his thanks and continued.

"Second, I wish to fortify our kingdoms against foreign invaders. The Saxons are an increasing and ever-present threat."

"And yet you still control the most powerful weapon of all. Your warlock could end us or enslave us with a blink of his eye," Sarrum growled. Arthur's face darkened.

"Merlin is not my warlock, as you say, to be ordered about or controlled like a bow or sword. He is a person, a good and kind one, with a will of his own."

"Yet he's sworn loyalty to you," Alined interjected with a grimace.

"He has," Arthur confirmed. "But not as a weapon. He is first and foremost a friend."

"Might I suggest we delay any further discussions about Merlin's role in this until he himself can be here?" King Rodor suggested.

"Aye!" Prince Gavin agreed.

"You would defend him, though wouldn't you? He's now your son-in-law. He could be just as much your weapon as Arthur's," Alined said contentiously. "Or he'll sire a warlock or two on your daughter for Nemeth to use."

"Merlin is not a weapon!" Prince Gavin protested in a steely voice. "Magic does not make us unnatural or inhuman. We are not objects. And my sister is not some breed mare for turning out warlocks as weapons."

Sarrum's face was inscrutable, though Arthur was sure that he'd seen a momentary flicker of disgust in the ruler's eyes at Gavin's passionate defense.

"Perhaps we should break for a meal?" Arthur suggested, eager to allow the heated tempers time to cool off.

"That sounds excellent," Annis agreed. Arthur smiled thankfully at the Queen of Caerleon.

"Then let's adjourn to the dining hall."


Guinevere, Mithian and Dolma traveled through the halls at a leisurely pace, owing to Dolma's aged body and the number of noble ladies who wanted to meet the newcomer in order to pass on the newest bit of gossip. By the time they finally made it to the guest chambers, the news of Princess Dolma's visit had spread across the castle.

"How do you manage to get up and down the stairs every day?!" Merlin asked after trodding upon his skirt for third time in less than fifteen minutes. "I can hardly manage these stairs in trousers on a good day, this dress is a menace!"

"Well, it's simple really," Gwen answered. "You just have to pick it up, see?"

"I'd like to pick it up and take it off. At least as Dragoon my robes didn't reach the floor and get caught under foot," Merlin muttered. Mithian giggled at her husband's irritation.

"We're almost there," the princess soothed. "This is the last staircase."

Finally, the three of them reached the top, just as a door opened down the hall and Hunith stepped out, dressed for a walk outside.

"Your Highness!" Hunith greeted in surprise.

"Good morning, Hunith," Gwen answered cheerfully. "And it's just Gwen, remember?"

"Of course, Gwen," Hunith smiled brightly, then let her eyes wander over the others.

"Princess Mithian," Hunith greeted.

"Hunith, I've told you before, it's just Mithian."

"Eventually, I'll get used to that. Please would you introd-" Hunith broke off as she took a good look at the unusually tall, fidgety woman standing behind Gwen and Mithian.

"Hello," Merlin greeted, adopting his Dolma voice and repeating the line he had given to all the nosy courtiers. "I'm Princess Dolma, Mithian's aunt. I've come to visit from Nemeth."

"Merlin?!" Hunith whispered incredulously.

"Oh, I think you must be mistaken," Merlin denied, giggling and brushing his long hair from his face. Hunith could not help herself any longer. She clapped a hand over her mouth, her eyes shining with undisguised humor.

"I'm just... going for a walk," Hunith managed, pursing her lips together in an attempt to stave off her laughter until she had begun descending the stairs.

"Perfect," Merlin said, brushing the front of his dress down and folding his arms across his grain-enhanced bosom as he looked at Mithian. "My mother will be telling this story to our children."

"At least you haven't vanished your dress," Mithian replied, utterly straight-faced. Merlin huffed and rolled his eyes.

"Come on then, Elfa has to be around here close by," Gwen said, walking briskly down the hall before she and Mithian lost their composure. Mithian and Merlin followed after, Mithian holding onto Dolma's arm supportively. In the third room they peeked into, they found Elfa collecting dirty breakfast dishes.

"Elfa!" Gwen greeted, opening the door fully, allowing Mithian and Dolma to come in behind her.

"Your Highness!" Elfa said, putting the dishes down and curtseying to the queen and then Mithian. "Is there something I can do for you?"

"Perhaps. We wanted to talk to you," Mithian explained.

"Is there something the matter with my work?"

"No, of course not, Elfa," Gwen soothed. "But you see, we do have a little matter to ask you about."

"What is it?" Elfa said, her eyes growing wide.

"We understand that you were in the kitchens last night, helping with the wine," Mithian said.

"Oh, I didn't do anything to Merlin!" Elfa said, her eyes widening with panic. "You know me, Your Highness, I would never hurt Merlin!"

"Do you know who did, then?" Merlin-Dolma asked.

"It was just me and Raulf on the wine last night and Raulf left early. He said he had a stomach ache."

"Raulf?!" Dolma asked curiously.

"Yes, he's not normally kitchen staff, you see, but we were all put to work what with all the visiting royalty and serving wine is the easiest bit to do if you're not used to kitchen work. And we haven't got Merlin anymore, he was always good for service. He's ever so sweet, you know. He never let us ladies carry anything too heavy."

"Yes, yes, he sounds delightful," Merlin-Dolma said dismissively. "What about Raulf, have you seen him today?"

"No I haven't," Elfa answered. "See he's a manservant and I'm just a kitchen maid. Manservants usually don't have much business in the kitchen. Just picking up or leaving trays. Except Merlin, when he was still a manservant. He did a bit of it all, didn't he? No one is quite like him," the maidservant sighed girlishly.

Merlin-Dolma huffed at Elfa's seemingly endless and embarrassing supply of admiration, though the maidservant didn't seem to notice Merlin's irritation. Mithian squeezed his arm in warning.

"You sound well acquainted with my husband," Mithian said. "You must be good friends."

"Oh yes... But Merlin is friends with everyone," Elfa explained hurriedly, her eyes widening comically.

"He really is, "Gwen said, glancing encouragingly at Mithian out of the corner of her eye. The princess immediately caught on.

"He's quite handsome, too," Mithian said smiling encouragingly at Elfa, whose face immediately brightened.

"Yes, all the handmaids have had a fancy for him at some point," Elfa agreed, her voice taking on a hint of playful conspiracy.

"Really?" Dolma interrupted, eager to stave off this new line of conversation. "I heard he was a gangly fellow, all arms and legs. Falling all over himself all the time."

"You've never met him?" Elfa asked incredulously, her sense of propriety completely gone. "He's ever so handsome. Meredith thinks I'm daft, but I'm rather particular to his ears. I could just pinch them."

Dolma's mouth dropped open in utter shock, her aged face burning with a blush to rival any maiden's as she resisted the urge to clap her hands over the ears in question.

"We've taken enough of your time, Elfa," Gwen said, ushering a grinning Mithian and an indignant Dolma out the door. Once they were in the corridor and moving away from the room, Dolma pulled Mithian and Gwen into an alcove.

"What was that?!"

"Just being friendly," Gwen said innocently. Merlin-Dolma scowled, but Mithian cut him off before he could say anything further.

"You seemed very interested in Raulf, who is he? Do you know him?"

"Yes, I do," Merlin answered, sobering completely. "He's Lord Vidor's manservant. But he wasn't the one to bring the wine to the table."

"You're right, it was no one I've ever seen in the castle before. I know Raulf by sight, if not by name," Mithian said. Gwen nodded her agreement.

"Let's go find Raulf. Then perhaps we need to pay a visit to Lord Vidor."


Dinner was passing at an incredibly slow pace. As they adjourned to the dining hall, Arthur found himself sitting near enough to Sarrum that he was forced to converse with the unpleasant man.

"Tell me, Arthur," Sarrum began. "How is it that you've changed your opinion of magic so thoroughly. I was sure that you were set to follow your father's example. Now you've embraced magic so passionately. Uther must be rolling in his grave."

Silence fell as everyone paused in their conversations to hear Arthur's reply. He gave Sarrum an inscrutable look, studying the other monarch as he pondered just how to answer. Finally, Arthur sat back in his chair and looked around the room at his eager audience, turning back to Sarrum and answering.

"I came to understand that my father hated magic because of his unimaginable grief. I cannot begin to imagine the pain he felt when my mother died. I cannot say for certain that I would have acted any differently were I in his position. But I can say that I have learned much in the last several years. That a man's worth is not determined by birth, but by his actions. That mercy is just as valuable as strength, and that forgiveness is not weakness.

"Much of that, I learned from Merlin; some of it willingly, and some of it after much sorrow. In the course of my education," Arthur paused, acknowledging the quiet chuckles that echoed amongst the spellbound monarchs. "I came to know my manservant for who he was- a good, kind, brave and noble man. I knew this long before I discovered that Merlin had magic."

"You call a man who lies noble?" Sarrum scoffed. Arthur laughed humorlessly.

"Would you admit to a birthright that would have your head on the chopping block?" Arthur asked rhetorically. "When I realized that Merlin had magic, I could not then suppose that that fact voided everything I knew about him as a person."

"And what then when this immense power he holds goes to his head and he betrays you?" Bayard asked nervously. Arthur acknowledged the other ruler's concern with a nod.

"I have faith that it will never come to that. I was taught from my infancy that all sorcerers were the same, that they sought nothing but darkness and that their power corrupts them- "

"And so it does. Morgana is proof enough of that," Sarrum interrupted, sneering.

"It is true that Morgana allowed herself to fall into darkness. But I must acknowledge that it was not magic that made her evil, and Merlin is not Morgana," Arthur answered firmly.

"Morgana was a very troubled soul, but it was not magic that made her what she was," Queen Annis agreed.

"Then what would you say made her that way?" Olaf asked curiously.

"Hate, bitterness, and a thirst for revenge. Just as those qualities can turn any good man or woman into a force of evil," Annis answered.

"Is it true that you held the witch?" King Lot asked Sarrum curiously. The ruler of the Amata grinned what Arthur could only describe as a feral smile.

"I did, her and a young dragon. I kept them chained in a dark pit. The sound of my voice was the only thing that reached them in the two years they remained my captives."

"You don't see that as unnecessarily cruel?" Lord Godwyn asked, his distaste evident. Sarrum looked at Godwyn with scorn.

"It was more than monsters like them deserved."

"How did you keep Morgana, a powerful High Priestess, imprisoned if you oppose magic so thoroughly?" Prince Gavin asked, his brow furrowed in confusion.

"The dragon was too young and small to escape the hole I threw them in. Morgana stayed to protect it, even though she was powerless when the dragon grew too large for the pit and became deformed as a result," Sarrum explained proudly. It put Arthur off his herb-crusted capers to hear the ruler of Amata speak of Morgana and Aithusa, as Merlin had called the youthful dragon, in such a way. It made the king glad for the first time that his Court Warlock was not there. Considering the way Merlin had interacted with the Great Dragon, as though they were brothers, the dragonlord would have likely reacted in a way that would have put Sarrum off the peace talks entirely.

"And you honestly believed they deserved such treatment?" Arthur asked somberly.

"Morgana killed many people, did she not?" Sarrum asked, ignoring the fact that he himself was guilty of the same crime.

"She did, as have we all," Arthur admitted. Sarrum said nothing, but grinned wickedly.

"Morgana's is a tragic tale," Rodor said diplomatically, and the others resumed their conversations. Arthur, though, could not get over the feeling that Sarrum was not a man to be trusted.


The hallways were bustling with servants bearing dinner trays as Gwen, Mithian and Merlin made their way to the noble's wing. Merlin and Gwen had reasoned that Raulf would most likely be in his master's quarters serving Vidor's midday meal. If he was, they could question both the manservant and Lord Vidor in one fell swoop. They had just left the guest wing, however, when they came across Mordred, Gwaine, Percival, Elyan and Leon coming in from their morning training session.

"Your Highnesses," Leon greeted, nodding respectfully to the trio.

"Ladies," Gwaine said, smiling at Gwen and Mithian, but looking at Dolma in confusion. "Excuse me, but I'm afraid we haven't met."

"Of course not, Sir Gwaine, this is my aunt, Princess Dolma," Mithian answered, smiling at the knights.

"I was not aware that your Aunt was coming," Leon said, worried that he'd missed an important detail in his duties.

"Oh no, no one knew I was coming," Merlin-Dolma said, smiling disarmingly at each of the knights. "I just arrived this morning."

"We're giving her a tour," Gwen said amicably and Mithian quickly nodded in agreement.

"You look familiar," Gwaine mused, pointing his finger at Dolma.

"It's the family resemblance," Merlin-Dolma answered, giggling as he swept his hair away from his face. "Everyone says so."

"I'm not sure that's it," Elyan said, squinting as he looked between the princess and Dolma.

"No, it is," Merlin-Dolma said, looking desperately at Gwen and Mithian, who were suspiciously silent. Just then, Merlin felt a familiar mind brush his and he quickly locked eyes with Mordred. The Druid-knight stood frozen, his eyes wide and incredulous.

"Merlin?!" Mordred asked telepathically, his eyebrows rising comically as a grin spread across his face. Merlin-Dolma smiled innocently, patting his hair down and giving a delicate chuckle.

"As you see, I am in disguise, and not one of my choosing. If you say anything about Dolma's true identity, I'll make you speak in goat bleats for the rest of the week."

The amusement was instantly gone from Mordred's expression. Gwaine and Elyan were both looking intently at Dolma, trying to place the elderly princess' features within their memories. Percival, however, was watching the interaction between Mordred and Dolma, noting the subtle, silent conversation that passed between the two.

"I'm sure I've seen you before, Princess Dolma," Gwaine said, his brow wrinkling in concentration as he wagged his finger at her determinedly. Merlin smiled with thinly veiled impatience.

"I'm sure you haven't," he replied, pulling his hood a little closer to his face.

"Your eyes do seem very familiar," Leon acknowledged.

"I'm sure you say that to all the girls," Merlin replied, chuckling nervously. Mordred bit down on his lip to keep from laughing as Merlin's anxiousness grew ever greater. Gwen began to send subtle signals to her brother, encouraging him to move along.

"I'm sure we've taken enough of your time," Elyan said, looking at Gwen in confusion when the queen smiled brilliantly.

"Yes, we should let you get back to your duties," Mithian agreed, guiding Dolma around the knights and continuing along down the corridor. Merlin groaned though, when he heard Percival's amused voice echo down the hallway.

"Anyone seen Merlin this morning?"

"I am never doing this again," Merlin said, dropping Dolma's voice as they entered a deserted and little-used passage to the noble's wing.

"Look at the bright side, Merlin," Gwen offered.

"What is that?" Merlin asked, tripping once more over his skirts.

"I've not thought of it yet," the queen admitted. "I'll let you know when I do."

"Thank you, Gwen," Merlin said sarcastically, yanking open the door to the dark, narrow staircase leading to their destination. Both Mithian and Gwen, however, gasped in shock when the pale, disrobed form of Raulf fell through the doorway. Merlin hurriedly crouched beside the manservant, taking in Raulf's clammy grey skin and the head wound that had barely scabbed over.

"Is he alive?" Gwen asked fearfully.

"Only just," Merlin replied, looking up at his wife and the thick cloak draped over her shoulders. "I need your cloak, then I need you to run back and grab one of the knights. We need to get him to Gaius' chambers."

Mithian shed her cloak without hesitation, handing it to Merlin and running back down the passageway.

"Will he be alright?" the queen asked.

"It depends on the severity of the head wound," Merlin replied. "He's likely been here all night, exposed to the cold. Whoever brought me the wine must have slipped him something to give him the stomach ache that Elfa mentioned so that he would leave the feast. Then they must have clubbed him over the head to steal his servant's garb."

"Do you think Lord Vidor is involved?" Gwen whispered as Merlin checked over Raulf's pulse and breathing.

"I'm not sure," Merlin admitted. "Though it would have been fairly simple for Vidor to have slipped something stomach-souring to his manservant." The warlock gently probed the cut on Raulf's forehead, grimacing when he felt the slight crack in the manservant's skull. "Raulf may have had a little help falling down these stairs."

"Is he bleeding inside his head?" Gwen asked worriedly, recalling Morgana's similar injury. Merlin said nothing, but shifted Raulf to lay flat on his back and raised the servant's eyelids.

"Damn," Merlin muttered when he saw Raulf's eyes were both dilated fully; never a good sign after a head injury. Merlin looked up and Gwen whirled around as they heard Mithian returning with Leon, Elyan, Percival, Gwaine and Mordred behind her. Merlin rolled his eyes, but acknowledged that hiding his identity from the knights was futile at this point. Thus, Merlin took a deep breath, gathering his magic to him. The newcomers skid to a halt when Merlin's voice rang out, deep and imbued with powerful magic. "Ic þe þurhhæle þin licsare mid þam sundorcræftas þære ealdaþ æ!"

Raulf shuddered minutely, then relaxed into a peaceful slumber. Mithian and the knights stood to the side in amazement; Gwaine was especially stunned by Dolma's change of voice.

"I didn't believe you, Percival, and I apologize. Because that was not a woman's voice," Gwaine said incredulously. Percival smiled.

"Well spotted," Leon chuckled.

"Is this what your strange signals were about?" Elyan asked Gwen. "Merlin dressed like a woman?"

"It was Arthur's idea," Merlin grumbled petulantly. Leon grimaced in sympathy.

"We're trying to keep Merlin out of sight until we figure out who tried to kill him," Gwen explained in frustration.

"Obviously we didn't count on your exceptional powers of deduction," Mithian chuckled, looking at Percival and Mordred specifically.

"I didn't say a word!" Mordred vowed seriously.

"I know you didn't, Mordred," Merlin sighed. "Percival, would you be so good as to take Raulf here to Gaius?"

Percival nodded and bent down to gather the unconscious servant in his arms.

"I'll go with him to Gaius'," Gwen said, following the large knight as they made their way to the physician's chambers.

"We'll be right behind you," Merlin said, and Gwen raised a hand in acknowledgement.

"Mordred?" Merlin asked, and his apprentice instantly answered.

"Yes, Merlin?"

"Go to Lord Vidor's chambers. He's not complained of his servant being missing; I have a feeling something is amiss there. Then report to us at Gaius' chambers."

"I'll go with him," Leon offered, and Merlin nodded. Leon and Mordred hurried up the stairs to the noble's wing. Merlin looked up at his wife and the two remaining knights.

"Elyan? Gwaine?"

"Yes?" Gwaine asked, eyeing Merlin in his Dolma disguise with no attempt to mask his amusement.

"Make a sweep of Mithian's and my chambers. I have no doubt that someone has been looking for me this morning. Word must have gotten around that I survived my unfortunate poisoning."

"Of course, Princess Dolma," Gwaine replied as Elyan nodded his acknowledgement before they both turned to head in the direction of Merlin's chambers.

"And Gwaine?" Merlin called, causing the ale-loving knight to turn around.

"Yes, Princess Dolma?"

"I'll give you the same warning I gave Mordred. One word of this to anyone else and you'll be bleating like a goat for a week."


A/N: *giggle, giggle, snort* Oh, this chapter just makes me laugh. :)