Another's Favor by ebhg

Rating: T

Pairings: Merthian/Arwen

Spoilers: Series 1-4 and up to episode 4 of Series 5.

Disclaimer: Merlin belongs to BBC.

A/N: Thanks yet again for your lovely reviews! I am delighted to read them:)


Goose Chase

Mordred and Leon made their way down the noble's wing towards Vidor's chambers, the both of them casually alert. A servant had nearly been murdered the night before, in addition to the attempt on Merlin's life. Someone was trying to cover their tracks and Leon had no desire to spook them deeper into hiding.

After nodding to a few ladies of the court as they passed, Leon and Mordred came to a stop at Lord Vidor's door. Leon knocked and stepped back patiently, though soon after knocked again. The third time, Leon practically pounded on the door.

"Lord Vidor?" he called out, looking at Mordred briefly before taking the handle and pushing the door open. The curtains were all still drawn even though it was midday and the fire in the hearth was nothing more than a smoldering pile of ashes.

"Lord Vidor?" Leon called out again, even as Mordred held out a hand.

"Leoht," he said, conjuring a small ball of light as Merlin had taught him. Mordred raised his hand high, illuminating the nobleman's chambers in a dim white light, casting deep shadows against the far wall.

"That is certainly easier than trying to light a candle in the dark," Leon chuckled, moving around the table to draw the curtains for some sunlight. Before he made it over to the window, however, he saw a crumpled form on the floor.

"Mordred, bring the light over here!" Leon ordered, and the young knight hastily came around the table as well. Leon stepped closer, careful to avoid the sticky pool of blood surrounding the body and nudged the curled man onto his back, taking in the large stab wound in the nobleman's belly. Leon sighed in frustration and stood up.

"Lord Vidor," Mordred said in defeat. "At least we know now why he didn't open the door."

"And why he hadn't complained about his missing servant," Leon groused, hurrying towards the doorway. "Unfortunately, it also leaves us with more questions than we started with."

"What now?" Mordred asked, following after Camelot's first knight.

"We'll need to report Lord Vidor's death to the king. Then, we meet everyone else in the physician's chambers."


Gwaine prided himself on his habit of obstinately defying anyone of authority. Anyone, that is, save for a gangly warlock-turned-lord. Gwaine had no problem with Merlin's authority and not because the king's advisor could kill ten men with a sneeze. The warlock had earned Gwaine's respect the moment the scrawny man had fearlessly (foolishly?) mouthed off to two huge thugs in a tavern.

Unfortunately, in the days since Merlin had become a nobleman of considerable rank, Gwaine had heard more than one noble-born knight grumbling about being outranked by the former servant. Gwaine had no doubt that those men would have balked at receiving and following orders from the newly appointed Court Warlock. But it felt entirely natural to the easy-going knight to follow Merlin's lead. If he hadn't known Hunith personally, Gwaine would have thought that Merlin was actually hiding a noble background just as Gwaine himself was.

"Who do you think is trying to kill Merlin?" Elyan asked quietly as they made their way to the chambers that Merlin and Mithian shared.

"I wouldn't put it past Sarrum."

"You don't think it's Odin? Surely he is upset by Merlin's marriage to Mithian?"

"Nah. This is no unrequited lover's quarrel. Grumpy as he is, Odin isn't stupid. He knows that Merlin defeated Morgana; Odin was working with the witch, so naturally, he knows just how powerful Merlin is to have beaten her."

"Why not Alined, or Lot or Bayard? They haven't been to friendly," Elyan reasoned.

"Bayard's too noble. He wouldn't step a toe outside of his precious honor. Lot isn't stupid either. I wouldn't go so far as to say he's a coward, but I bet he would rather hide under a rock than tangle with Merlin after Cenred's sticky end at Morgause's hand. Alined is vile, have no doubt. He's got an agenda, but I haven't quite worked it out yet. But Sarrum? He's definitely a dangerous man and he hates magic."

"How can you assume all of that?" Elyan asked incredulously. Gwaine shook his head and grinned.

"When you spend as much time as I have traveling among the dregs of society, you learn how to read a man very quickly. Besides, did you hear the Amatans at the feast, boasting about their specialized skills? They were intentionally vague, but they are a people led by a warlord. I'd bet a week's worth of ale that they meant assassinations."

"I'm not stupid enough to take that bet. If you turned out to be right you would drink me out of all my gold," Elyan scoffed.

"Well, it was worth a try," Gwaine said roguishly. Elyan rolled his eyes and elbowed his fellow knight.

They both fell silent, though, when they reached the warlock's chambers and noticed that the door was standing ajar. Gwaine looked at Elyan with a raised eyebrow. With a curt nod from the queen's brother, Gwaine pulled a long knife from his belt and used it to nudge the door open further. His caution was rewarded when an arrow embedded itself in the thick oak planks. Gwaine and Elyan both tensed, waiting for an attacker to appear. After a moment of silence, Gwaine risked a quick glance around the door jam and relaxed when he saw the crossbow rigged to fire itself.

"Someone is not playing around," Gwaine muttered, cautiously stepping into the room, not willing to assume that the unmanned crossbow meant the assassin was gone. Elyan followed closely behind Gwaine, his sword drawn and at the ready. Both of them swept their gaze around the room as they took in the parchments scattered haphazardly from the desk, the curtains torn from their rods and the mattress and pillows that had been tossed off the bed and torn apart.

"Someone who was very angry that Merlin wasn't anywhere to be found," Elyan agreed. Both men turned quickly at a muffled sob from the wardrobe. Gwaine rushed towards the cupboard and yanked it open, revealing Mithian's maid, Tillie.

"Are you alright?" Elyan asked kindly as the shaking maidservant collapsed into Gwaine's outstretched arms in grateful sobs.

"What happened?" Gwaine asked as Tillie struggled to gain control of herself.

"I was bringing up some laundry," Tillie sniffed, pointing to a basket of Mithian's gowns that had been upended all over the floor. "I had just put the basket on the table when the outer door banged open like someone had kicked it in. I was frightened, because Merlin and Mithian never come in like that. So I hid in the back of the cupboard."

"Did you see who it was?" Gwaine asked eagerly, but Tillie shook her head.

"I daren't look out while they were in here, but it was two of them. They had deep voices."

"Could you hear what they said?" Elyan asked hopefully, though Tillie shook her head tearfully.

"I was hiding behind Merlin's ceremonial cloak; it's very heavy. I couldn't tell what they were saying."

Gwaine and Elyan looked at each other determinedly.

"You need to get out of here," Elyan said. "Go home and settle yourself down. We'll tell the princess where you've gone."

"Thank you, sir knights," Tillie said, curtseying before wiping her eyes on her apron and hurrying gratefully from the room. Gwaine and Elyan followed after, though Gwaine paused to pull the bolt from the door and look it over.

"Aren't these Nemeth's colors?" he asked Elyan, pointing to the dyed feathers adorning the arrow.

"I believe they are," Elyan confirmed. "But even if they secretly wanted to kill Merlin, they wouldn't risk the princess like that."

"No, but someone else might. Perhaps some of those specialized skills at work?" Gwaine mused, tucking the arrow into his belt to show to Mithian.

"Looks like it," Elyan agreed, and the two of them hurried towards Gaius' chambers.


It didn't take long before Leon and Mordred found Arthur in the dining hall with the other monarchs. The King of Camelot was looking decidedly worn by the events of the last couple days; thus Leon was reluctant to reveal this latest turn of events. However, the peace talks would all be for naught if there was an assassin killing people left and right.

Arthur looked relieved to see his most senior knight as the others around him finished their dinners, compounding Leon's guilt over adding to the king's burden even further.

"My Lord," Leon greeted, coming to a stop beside Arthur respectfully.

"What is it Leon," Arthur asked.

"Might I have a word with you?" Leon asked as casually as he could manage.

"Of course. Let's have a short recess this afternoon," Arthur said, addressing the room at large with the last before standing and leading Leon and Mordred from the dining hall. Arthur did not stop until he had led Leon and Mordred into a storage room three corridors away from the dining hall, hoping that it was enough to discourage any eavesdroppers. Then he finally turned to Leon with a questioning look.

"What is it, Leon?"

"Sire," Leon began, but Arthur held up his hands.

"Please, we are alone, I've had enough 'Sire' these last few days to last me a lifetime," Arthur said in frustration. Leon smiled and nodded gratefully to his friend and king.

"Arthur, we've a new problem," Leon said gently.

"Which is?"

Leon wasted no time in explaining the most recent developments. When he fell silent, Arthur closed his eyes and let out a long sigh of frustration.

"Let's get to Gaius' chambers and see what everyone else has found. We'll have to send someone up to fetch Vidor in a bit," Arthur reasoned, then turned on his heel and headed towards his physician's chambers.


Merlin and Mithian made their way slowly to Gaius' chambers, slowed once again by Merlin's aged frame and clumsiness with the floor-length skirt. Several times, they were waylaid by noble ladies wanting to chat. Not long after they left such a group, they came across Lord Geoffrey just outside the library.

"Princess Mithian!" Geoffrey greeted, nodding respectfully to Mithian before eyeing Merlin-as-Dolma curiously. "Is this your aunt? Princess Dolma?"

"Yes," Mithian answered quickly, even as Merlin bit back a groan. The gossip had certainly spread, however, and Geoffrey's eyes lit up.

"I'm delighted to meet you again, it has been many years," the librarian said, extending his hand in offer. Merlin looked wide-eyed at Mithian for a second before putting on a forced smile and extending his own hand. Much to Merlin's horror, Geoffrey delicately grasped his fingers and bent low over Dolma's hand, pressing a kiss to the knuckles. Merlin affected his Dolma voice and let out a giggle. He had been trying to sound girlish, though the high-pitch was more akin to panic than femininity.

Unfortunately, Geoffrey mistook the emotion in Dolma's voice for flirtatiousness and smiled a roguish grin. As soon as possible, Merlin snatched his hand back and tried to look coy in return, but it came off as more squeamish than coquettish.

"Have you had dinner yet?" Geoffrey asked curiously, raising his eyebrow at Dolma invitingly.

"Oh, ah... we were just... ah..."

Mithian took pity on her mortified husband and smiled disarmingly at the librarian.

"We really must get back to our chambers; Aunt Dolma was just saying a moment ago that she felt faint. Isn't that right?"

"Yes," Merlin said in his best Dolma voice, fanning himself with one hand while leaning dramatically on Mithian. "I'm afraid I must go lie down."

"Perhaps I should escort you?" Geoffrey offered helpfully. "I wouldn't want you to collapse in the corridor."

"NO!" Dolma said, shocking the librarian as she instantly straightened before smiling and calming herself. "I meant that I can get along just fine, I just need my dear Mithian's help."

"Of course," Geoffrey said affably. "Do be careful on the stairs, though."

"Thank you, we will be," Mithian said, guiding Dolma swiftly down the passageway.

"I need to get out of this dress," Merlin moaned a few hallways and staircases later.

"We're almost there," Mithian answered soothingly, trying hard for Merlin's sake to keep her laughter at bay. Finally, they crossed the courtyard and entered the physician's tower where Merlin took the spiraling steps as quickly as his aged body would allow. Mithian was, surprisingly enough, hard-pressed to keep up with him as he barreled through Gaius' door, pulling her in behind him and locking it firmly with a whispered spell.

"Someone chasing you?"

Merlin whirled around to see Arthur and Gwen standing beside Gaius, Leon and Mordred. Percival was sitting at the table with Daegal, grinning at Merlin's harried expression.

"No one was chasing us," Mithian assured the king, though at Merlin's scoff, she amended her statement. "Well not literally chasing us, figuratively is another question altogether."

"What?" Arthur asked, looking at Merlin-as-Dolma and forgetting the stresses of earlier when he remembered watching Guinevere and Mithian get Merlin dressed for the day's subterfuge. He covered his mouth in an attempt to smother his mirthful snickering.

"You wouldn't be laughing if it was you Lord Geoffrey was flirting with!" Merlin said grumpily, then clapped a hand over his mouth, realizing what he'd just said aloud. Arthur lost his composure then, laughing long and hard until the door handle rattled impatiently. Merlin rolled his eyes and turned to allow the door to unlock, letting Gwaine and Elyan spill into the room.

"Princess Dolma," Gwaine greeted cheerfully. "Fancy meeting you here."

"Oh shut up," Merlin grumbled, rattling every jar and vial in the room with his barely controlled magic as he stomped towards the tiny bedroom in the back. "I'm getting changed and I'm never doing this again!"

Everyone watched in amusement as Merlin climbed the steps to the room and shut the door behind him quite firmly. Mithian followed more slowly, knowing that Merlin wouldn't be able to get out of the dress by himself. Sure enough, the door opened a moment later and Merlin called out in slight distress.

"Mithian! I need your help!"

"What's the matter?" Arthur asked mischievously. "Can't you just vanish it?"

Merlin narrowed his eyes at the smirking king and turned around, muttering incomprehensible threats about vanishing something of Arthur's.

"One of these days you're going to be sorry you teased him so much," Gwen said, her scolding rather ineffectual as she was struggling not to laugh.

Mithian smiled at the queen, then composed her expression and entered the small bedroom. The princess couldn't help but frown sympathetically at Merlin's plight. The warlock was standing with his arms crossed and his hood peeled back, his grain and wool bosom tossed carelessly on the bed. He had obviously been tugging at his laces in an effort to remove the dress. Mithian was somewhat surprised to note that Merlin's features were still aged and womanly.

"You're not stuck, are you?" Mithian asked with concern.

"In this dress, yes," Merlin complained.

"No, I mean as Dolma," Mithian explained. "I expected that you would have removed the spell by now."

"I've had enough experience with using aging spells now that I don't believe I'm stuck as Dolma. But I am quite a bit smaller in this state and I'm already laced in as tight as I can stand. I need to get this dress off before I can restore myself and I'm afraid I've made a terrible mess of the ties in my rush to get out of this thing."

Mithian smiled in suppressed amusement, then walked up to her husband with a teasing smirk.

"That's such a shame," Mithian teased. "Because it has been several hours since I've kissed my husband and I can't very well kiss him when he's looking like this." Mithian gestured at Merlin, looking from head to foot before grabbing Merlin's shoulders and deftly spinning him in place. Merlin was caught off-guard, distracted as he was by Mithian's flirtatious tone, thus he spun on the spot without any resistance. Merlin groaned loudly in relief when Mithian's deft fingers made short work of the knotted laces and loosened the restrictive bodice.

"Shh, do you want to give Gwaine something more to tease you with?" Mithian said with a whispered giggle even as Merlin uttered the words of the old tongue that would restore his normal form. Mithian watched in rapt fascination as his spine straightened, his shoulders broadened and his hair darkened and became shorter. With his back still to her, Merlin took a deep breath and reached up to touch his face. With a relieved sigh, he turned on his heel and captured Mithian in his arms, grinning mischievously at the princess' eager expression.

"What was that you were saying?" Merlin asked.

"I have not kissed my husband in several hours," Mithian said with wide, playful-yet-innocent eyes.

"That is simply something that must be rectified immediately," Merlin murmured, leaning down and capturing Mithian's lips with his own. For several passionate minutes, Merlin lost himself in the sensations. Finally, he pulled back and Mithian blinked her eyes dazedly.

"Not that I'm complaining, but I didn't quite expect that intensity," Mithian said breathlessly. Merlin chuckled.

"I've been wearing a dress and parading around as a woman all morning. To add insult to injury, Lord Geoffrey kissed my hand and flirted with me not an hour ago. I had to do something to make up for the utter emasculation I've suffered through today. Contrary to what Arthur would have you believe, I am not a girl."

"I'm sorry I've laughed at you," Mithian said softly, her voice tender and genuine as she stroked the hair at the nape of his neck. Merlin smiled, accepting Mithian's apology with a brief press of his lips to her forehead.

"It's alright, I can't really blame you. I know I looked ridiculous. Had it been Arthur dressed as a woman, I would have been laughing right alongside you, and someday, I'll find a way to make it happen because he took such enjoyment out of doing it to me."

"I think perhaps Gwaine would make an excellent woman as well, all that shiny hair," Mithian mused. Merlin's eyes sparkled with mischief at the possibilities.

"An excellent idea, but for now, I should get changed and we should get back to the discussion out there."

"Such a pity," Mithian said impishly. Merlin raised his eyebrows warningly as he pulled his clothing on.

"You were the one to say that we shouldn't give Gwaine any more reason to tease us," Merlin said as he pulled his coat on and stalked over to Mithian playfully.

"You were the one to say that we had to get back to the discussion," Mithian reasoned, even as she was leaning into Merlin's impending kiss. After a few delightful minutes, they emerged from the bedroom, a bit rumpled but otherwise back to normal. Gwaine raised his eyebrow at their disheveled hair and kiss-swollen lips, but said nothing for once. He didn't fancy testing Merlin's threat about vanishing important bits.

"What have you all found?" Arthur asked, quite effectively dampening the jovial mood in the room.

"As we reported earlier," Leon began, looking around at those who hadn't heard already, "Mordred and I found Lord Vidor dead of a stab wound in his chambers."

Merlin raised his eyebrows at the news and looked at Raulf, unconscious on the patient's bed, with some concern.

"It's possible that Raulf could identify his attacker. Plenty of people would have seen you bringing him here. We should assume that whoever tried to kill him will try again," Merlin reasoned. Everyone nodded in agreement.

"We'll post a guard at the door," Arthur said, though Gwaine shook his head and explained what he and Elyan had found in their search of Merlin and Mithian's rooms.

"I think this is the work of an experienced assassin. Raulf here may need more than just guards."

"We'll take it in turns," Leon offered. Arthur nodded his approval.

"This," Gwaine said as he pulled the arrow from his belt, "was the bolt that we pulled out of the door."

Mithian gasped at the sight of it, though Merlin's expression turned stormy. Nearly everyone leaned back subconsciously at the power that was suddenly and inadvertently radiating off of the warlock.

"Merlin," Mithian murmured soothingly, seeing everyone's reflexive action. Merlin looked at his wife, taking a deep breath and reigning in his magic.

"That could have hit you or Tillie."

"It could have hit you, too," Mithian countered.

"Whoever is doing this doesn't care who they kill or hurt. We have to stop them," Merlin said.

"Does the arrow look familiar?" Gwaine asked, holding the feathered end up and offering the bolt to Mithian. The princess furrowed her brow and took it from Gwaine, rolling it in her fingers to look at each feather.

"These are certainly Nemeth's colors," Mithian said curtly.

"That's what we thought," Elyan confirmed.

"No one in Nemeth would risk killing or hurting Mithian, even if they did hate me. This has to be a set up," Merlin growled.

"And they've made their first mistake," Mithian said triumphantly. "This is definitely not the work of Nemethian fletchers. Our arrows are made exclusively from birch wood; this is cedar and the fletching thread is wrong. In Nemeth, the thread is pulled through beeswax; this thread appears to have been dipped in tallow."

"Impressive knowledge for a princess," Gwaine said honestly, making no effort to conceal his surprised expression.

"I may be a princess, but I am also a hunter who prefers a crossbow, if you would recall. I believe in knowing as much about your weapon as possible, even so much as pestering the royal fletcher until he gave in and showed a princess his craft."

Merlin smiled proudly at his wife even as Arthur grinned triumphantly.

"Excellent. All we have to do is find which kingdom's fletching style matches this arrow," Arthur said, looking at Leon, Percival, Gwaine and Elyan. "I'll trust you four with that task."

"I'd be glad to do a bit of snooping," Gwaine grinned. "Hasn't been enough action around here."

"Speak for yourself," Merlin scoffed, chuckling at Gwaine's facetiousness. A low groan from the patient's bed caused them all to turn expectantly. Raulf was stirring, clutching at his head as he struggled to sit up.

"Raulf?" Gwen asked, moving closer to the cot even as Gaius put a hand on the pale man's shoulder to keep him from getting up.

"My head," Raulf groaned.

"Yes, you took a rather nasty fall," Gaius said, then turned to get Daegal's attention. "Get some of my headache remedy prepared, double-strength for now."

Daegal nodded, rushing over to the physician's herb stock and selecting a few dried sprigs of various herbs and getting to work. Arthur moved to stand just behind Guinevere, careful not to overwhelm the injured man with both his king and queen standing over him.

"Can you tell us what happened?" Gwen asked gently, looking from Merlin to Raulf significantly.

"I was... at the feast. I... I was... helping Elfa serve wine. After a while my stomach started to hurt and cook ordered me out of the kitchen. She said she'd have me in the stocks if I got sick over anything. I was going to stop by my master's chambers to prepare them for the night while he was at the feast, " Raulf said, his eyes widening as he looked to the window and the bright sunshine streaming through it. "I didn't attend to Lord Vidor last night or this morning! I'll be in the stocks for a week at least!"

"No, you won't be," Gwen said firmly. Though Raulf's wide eyes betrayed his disbelief.

"Lord Vidor will be very angry," Raulf said.

"No, he won't be," Arthur replied. Raulf shrank back a bit at being addressed by the king, and Arthur continued more gently. "I am...sorry...to tell you that Lord Vidor has been killed. Anything you can tell us about what happened to you could help us find who's responsible."

Raulf sat stunned for a moment, then slowly nodded and furrowed his brow in concentration.

"I opened the door. The one at the top of the servants' back staircase in the noble wing to go to Lord Vidor's chambers... But something hit me in the head and I started to fall backwards. I saw just a glimpse of a man out of the corner of my eye."

"Did you see his face? Did you recognise him?" Gwen asked eagerly, though Raulf shook his head and squinted at the distant ceiling.

"No. I didn't. I just remember seeing a leather breastplate. Then nothing. I'm actually rather surprised that I'm not dead," Raulf said, touching his head again, searching for his injury.

"You probably would have been, if not for Merlin," Gaius said, looking proudly at the warlock.

"What?" Raulf asked, looking at his former fellow servant with undisguised disbelief. Merlin just shrugged, grateful that he wasn't still wearing his Dolma disguise for Raulf to see.

"You were gravely injured. Merlin healed you with magic," Mithian said, explaining when her husband remained silent. Raulf's eyes widened in surprise, with a touch of distrust.

The warlock's stomach sank at Raulf's not-entirely-positive reaction. He had expected this to happen at some point, but Merlin had believed he'd have to go into the town to find someone who seemed uneasy with who and what he was. Though he supposed he ought not to have been so surprised. Raulf was Lord Vidor's manservant and he had likely been exposed to the nobleman's bitter vitriol; owing to Merlin's position as the king's manservant, he had never worked all that closely with Raulf. Thus, there was not an existing trust between them like Merlin had with other castle servants and even the knights. Raulf was just one of many citizens of Camelot who would be distrustful of the warlock, yet he now owed his life to Merlin.

"A little gratitude in such situations is generally customary," Gwen said not unkindly, understanding the exchange between the servant and the warlock for what it was all too well. Raulf's expression softened at the gentle remonstrance from his queen and he looked at Merlin with grudging respect.

"Thanks for that, I suppose," Raulf said, and Merlin nodded silently.

"That's enough for now," Gaius admonished as Daegal rushed over with a small glass vial of the herbal concoction he'd been working on. The physician smelled it and raised it up to the light, studying it for a moment before smiling at the boy. "Young Daegal is a much quicker study of herbs than you ever were, Merlin."

"That is not surprising," Merlin allowed, smiling encouragingly at the blushing youth. "How often did I actually have time to study herbs?"

"Here now," Gaius said, rolling his eyes at Merlin and handing the vial over to Raulf, who downed it in one go. "It will help with your pain and help you to rest a bit longer."

As soon as Raulf's eyes grew heavy and closed in sleep, Arthur looked significantly at his knights.

"Which kingdoms use leather armor?"

"Amata," Gwaine answered immediately, his suspicions growing further.

"Essetir uses some leather armor as well," Percival added.

"And Caerleon," Leon said, though his face showed his doubt at Annis' involvement.

"Meredor as well," Elyan added.

"Precisely. Concentrate on those kingdoms first in your search for arrows like the one Gwaine found. Ask their knights to train with you, be discreet about it. If you don't find any similar amongst those kingdoms that use leather armor, then move to the others. We cannot disregard the possibility that there is more than one kingdom working against us," Arthur instructed, and the knights nodded their compliance.

"What about me, Sire?" Mordred asked the king.

"I have to get back to the talks, so I can't be there to protect Merlin," Arthur said regretfully, though the warlock rolled his eyes. Arthur ignored him and looked directly at Merlin's apprentice. "Keep close to your master and watch his back while I can't."

"I'll be fine," Merlin interrupted with a roll of his eyes. "As your master, as Arthur puts it, I am instructing you to stay here and protect Raulf."

Arthur sighed, but did not protest. "Merlin? The assassin is bound to misstep sometime. You should become Dolma again and keep looking."

"No," Merlin said firmly.

"You may not like it, but it's the best way to keep you hidden," Arthur argued, but Merlin just shook his head, his mind made up.

"No. Not again. If they want me, they can come and get me. I will not hide any longer."

"You're not immune to arrows or other weapons, Merlin. You may have magic, but it is possible to surprise you and catch you off guard. I've seen it happen," Arthur protested.

"He won't be alone," Mithian said firmly, and Merlin looked at her gratefully.

"That's all well and good, but you need something more, Merlin. Perhaps a weapon in addition to your magic," Gwaine suggested.

"I'm deadlier than any weapon just on my own. Or don't you remember the way I fought Morgana?" Merlin argued somberly.

"I remember sure enough," Gwaine replied.

"The problem is that you don't look particularly threatening," Arthur added. "And this assassin has no recollection of your battle with Morgana. You need to look the part."

"Thanks, I think," Merlin chuckled facetiously.

"Perhaps if you just carried a sword?" Leon suggested. "Your new rank would allow you to do so."

"But I don't need a sword," Merlin insisted.

"And no one would find him particularly threatening with one anyway. Rather like arming a child with a wooden stick. Harmless, but quite entertaining," Arthur said dryly. Merlin scowled at the king's smug expression.

"Perhaps a certain weapon of the magical variety, then?" Gaius suggested, looking at Merlin significantly. The warlock raised his eyebrows in question, then nodded slowly as he made the connection.

"I've just the thing," Merlin said, bounding once more towards his former bedroom. A moment later, he emerged carrying the Sidhe staff.

"Is that a... quarterstaff?" Percival asked incredulously.

"No, it's a magical staff, made by the Sidhe in Avalon," Merlin said, eyeing the weapon respectfully.

"I suppose that looks more menacing in your hands than a sword. But what does it do? Are you even any good with it?" Arthur asked disbelievingly. Merlin rolled his eyes and looked around the room, brightening when he saw the unlit logs in the fireplace across the room.

"Don't destroy anything!" Gaius warned as Merlin grasped the staff in the middle and turned himself sideways, as though presenting the smallest target to an attacker. Merlin silently leveled the staff parallel to the ground and without a word, flung a bolt of magical energy towards the fireplace, igniting the logs waiting there.

"You won't have that sort of time when you're taking on an attacker," Arthur said doubtfully. Merlin smiled a wry grin.

"You still don't understand how many attackers I've faced for you, do you?"

"Of course I do. I'm just worried that you're being over-confident with your aim and ability with this weapon. It's not like you've had the time to properly train with it," Arthur explained. Merlin chuckled, hefting the staff for a second before whipping it around and rapidly sending three precise bolts of energy to Gaius' various candelabras, lighting the center candle on each one.

"Looks pretty accurate to me. Impressive," Gwaine chuckled. Arthur's mouth dropped open in utter disbelief before he too nodded in agreement.

"Alright then. I've got to get back," Arthur conceded.

"I'll come with you," Gwen offered. "I think we've got a few good leads, and between Merlin, Mithian and the knights we have everything under control. I believe it is you who could use my support now."

Arthur smiled gratefully at his wife, nodding his agreement with her assessment. Then he turned to look at the others gathered in the room.

"Good luck," the king said to all, though he looked significantly at his Court Warlock before offering his arm to Guinevere. Merlin nodded in acknowledgement, ready to defend not Camelot, but himself.


Sarrum wandered slowly back to his assigned guest chambers to wait out the afternoon break. However, each gossiping throng of courtiers he passed were whispering about a pale, limp servant being carried to the physician's chambers by a knight of Camelot. Sarrum grew more incensed with every whisper, as he had a very good idea who that limp servant had been and he expected cleaner work from his best man.

The Amatan warlord burst angrily into his rooms; the young servant girl changing the linens scurried out as soon as she saw the glare Sarrum sent in her direction. Throwing himself into his chair and rubbing his temples in frustration, Sarrum almost missed the quiet footsteps that moved across the room.

"You're being sloppy," Sarrum growled without looking up. He knew Albin's footsteps when he heard them. "I trained you better than this."

"You've never tried to carry out a job in a castle crawling with royalty and their guards though," Albin defended himself.

"No, because I wouldn't have failed the first time," Sarrum admonished, looking at his protege for the first time.

"This Merlin is harder to find than most marks are," Albin reasoned.

"Arthur was not bluffing then? The warlock still lives, I take it?"

"Aye. There has been no sight of him since he was carried out of the feast last night. I set a trap for him in his chambers, but the drunkard knight and the queen's brother spoiled it."

"Then find him and make sure he dies. Stand over his body until the last breath leaves him and he's beyond any help," Sarrum said coldly. Albin nodded and turned to leave when Sarrum spoke up again. "And find that servant of Vidor's and slit his throat before he has the chance to talk."

Albin said nothing, but paused long enough that Sarrum knew he'd been heard. Then the warlord leaned back in his chair and put his feet up on the table, grinding his teeth in irritation that the warlock was still living. Never had one of his jobs gone so poorly. This Merlin was certainly strong to have resisted the poison as long as he had and survive.

A few moments later, King Alined let himself in, much to Sarrum's increasing irritation.

"What do you want?" Sarrum growled.

"You've failed yet again, I take it?" Alined asked smugly.

"It's only a matter of time," Sarrum said cruelly.

"Not in this case," Alined argued. "Merlin has powerful magic. You need to fight fire with fire."

"And I suppose you think you would be better suited to eliminating the warlock? Because you stoop to using such unnaturalness as magic?"

"Merlin is known as Emrys amongst the Druids for a reason, Sarrum. You are a fool to think you can kill him like one of your former petty targets."

"You just focus on Arthur and I'll take care of Merlin, like I said I would," Sarrum sneered. It was a matter of pride; he could not allow a job to go unfinished just because the target was a powerful warlock.

"That's my problem though, you see?" Alined said in a tone of false boredom as he studied his fingernails.

"What do you mean?" Sarrum asked.

"I can't very well kill Arthur if his greatest protector is still walking around, now can I?"

"So it's my fault now that you are just as incapable of killing Arthur now as you were when last you tried?"

"Merlin is exactly why my man failed the last time!" Alined exclaimed in exasperation. "Get it done."

Sarrum watched in barely suppressed fury as Alined turned his back on him and left as abruptly as he'd come. The leader of the Amata ground his teeth once again, vowing to himself to properly deal with Alined after Merlin and Arthur were dead.


Leon led his three fellow knights down to the training grounds, all of them dressed as though preparing to spar with one another. Gwaine kept up his usual antagonizing banter and Elyan reacted defensively as he usually did. Percival said little, as was his habit. In short, it seemed as though they were going about their usual activities, rather than scouting out the best way to discreetly examine arrows from each of their target kingdoms.

"We should just go and ask to see them. Inspection or some rot," Gwaine said impatiently. Elyan rolled his eyes.

"That won't make them wonder what we're doing," Elyan mocked facetiously.

"What? Have you got a better idea?" Gwaine asked.

"Yes," Leon said, looking at Gwaine significantly. "We need to split up. Each of us needs to take a kingdom and discreetly look over their weaponry. As Arthur said, invite them to train with us. We meet back here in half an hour. I'll take Caerleon."

"I've got Amata," Gwaine said, eager to follow his instincts.

"I'll take Essetir," Elyan offered.

"And I'll take Meredor," Percival said. Leon nodded to each of his brothers-in-arms.

"Good luck."


Mordred found himself pacing Gaius' chambers restlessly after everyone else had gone. The other knights were likely in the thick of their assignment and Merlin and Mithian had left not long after the knights.

"You pace just as badly as Merlin does, do you know?" Gaius asked as he stood over his worktable in his heavy leather apron.

"I'm not surprised. He's a person who needs to be active and so am I. I think it has to do with our magic."

"I believe that is true," Gaius chuckled in agreement.

"You mean like it keeps you jittery?" Daegal asked curiously, also noting the warlock-knight's restlessness.

"You could say that," Mordred answered. "I know I often have an indefinable urge to act. It frequently got me in trouble as a child."

"I'm sure Merlin could say the same thing," Gaius said in amusement.

"Do you really believe that Raulf is in danger?" Mordred asked, causing the physician to meet his eyes for the first time.

"I've had more than one patient die before they could testify to what they knew. I think Arthur and Merlin's concern is valid."

"Then they aren't just keeping me here to keep me out of trouble?" Mordred asked.

"I think not," Gaius said with a chuckle.

"Good," Mordred said with a smile, resuming his pacing as Gaius smiled in amusement and returned to his work.

"Daegal, I've a few tonics for you to deliver," Gaius said a few minutes later, corking the vials he'd just filled and instructing his newest apprentice on where to take them. Daegal was quickly on his way, leaving Mordred and Gaius alone with a sleeping Raulf.

"I've got some rounds to make," the elderly physician said, grabbing his supplies and heading for the door. "I'll be back in a bit."

Mordred nodded and settled himself into a chair beside the patient's cot, looking out the window at the late afternoon sun before wandering around the cluttered room curiously.

"What to do now," Mordred muttered, finding the quiet stillness unnerving after the commotion of the last few days. "Books are good. I'll find a book."

Mordred walked over to the nearest pile of leather-bound volumes and was just reaching for the top of the stack when the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. He quickly suppressed a shiver from running down his spine and whirled around, his hand outstretched as he began to draw his magic around him protectively. He let out an instinctive, controlled burst of power that gave him a second to react and draw his sword, blocking the long knife that was being thrust towards his heart.

It was a tall man, much taller than Mordred at least, dressed in the leather armor of Amata. His hair was shorn close to his scalp and the various scars scattered across his face added to the menacing aura surrounding him.

Mordred had easily blocked the initial strike, but he quickly found himself on the defensive again as the man dropped the long knife and drew his own sword. The two of them traded blows in the tight space of Gaius' cluttered chambers, knocking various remedies and dishes off the tables and disrupting stacks of books. Raulf slumbered obliviously in his drugged stupor despite the repeated clash of blades meeting and things being scattered about. Mordred called upon his magic to push at the attacker, but had little time to act before the onslaught continued. Regardless, Mordred was able to deflect the brutish man's sword arm twice more with magic, allowing him the time he needed to evade and regroup.

It was quickly becoming obvious to the young warlock-knight that this man was a highly skilled swordsman. Mordred was hampered further by his need to keep himself between the attacker and Raulf, who was surely the real target. Thus Mordred's potential fighting space was constricted even further. Just when the young knight felt he would not be able to hold out much longer, he had an idea that he cursed himself for not thinking of sooner.

"MERLIN!" he shouted mentally, finding a second burst of energy to enable him to hold out until Merlin could come to his aid.


After leaving the physician's chambers, Merlin and Mithian retraced their steps back towards Vidor's chambers. However, this time they had none of the many distractions and delays that they had experienced that morning. Merlin walked at a brisk pace, his staff held at his side in a state of casual readiness. Mithian kept up beside him, the both of their faces etched with determination. The courtiers that they passed seemed eager to watch them go by, taking in every detail to be repeated later to those who had not seen the newly recovered Court Warlock and his wife striding through the castle as though on a mission.

They reached Lord Vidor's chambers and Merlin entered first, noting that Arthur had already sent up someone to take Lord Vidor's body out of the room. All that remained of the gruesome scene was a crimson stain that a young maid was scrubbing diligently.

"I'll just be a bit longer," the young girl said without looking up from her task.

"Don't hurry on our account," Merlin said, and the servant looked around in shock.

"I'm so sorry, Your Excellencies," the girl stammered. "I didn't realize it was you."

"Beth, how long have you known me?" Merlin asked with a grin.

"Five years now, My Lord," Beth replied, dipping her head down.

"Then you should know not to call me anything but Merlin. Does my head look fatter now or something?"

Beth looked up with a grin, eyeing Mithian nervously.

"By all means, call him Merlin. I've no objection," the princess said with a smile.

"Beth, did you happen to come across anything odd while you were cleaning?" Merlin asked.

"I haven't, but the Castle Steward was in here when Lord Vidor's body was taken away. He said that there was no sign of Lord Vidor's money chest."

"Really?" Mithian asked, looking significantly at her husband, whose eyebrow had raised not unlike Gaius' at the news.

"I'm sorry I'm not much more help," Beth said.

"You've been plenty helpful," Merlin replied, then made his own quick search of the room. Mithian looked around as well, particularly at the papers at the Lord's desk.

"Merlin?" Mithian said, pulling the warlock from his perusal. Merlin came to the princess' side, glancing down at the leather-bound journal she was looking at.

"What is it?"

"It's his last entry. It's rather vague, but it says, "I've made a deal with the devil."

"Sounds pleasant," Merlin said sarcastically, and Mithian tucked the book under her arm to show to Arthur and Gwen. Merlin took one last look around and closed his eyes, reaching out with his magic to look for any other lingering traces in the room. Unfortunately, there was none; whoever had attacked Vidor had done so without the aid of magic. There was nothing more to be learned from the nobleman's rooms.

"But who is the devil?" Mithian asked soberly as she watched Merlin's awareness return. "And how do we find them?"

"I'm not sure. But perhaps we can make this devil come to us. Let's go make ourselves visible."

Merlin and Mithian had made it down to the courtyard when the warlock froze suddenly and grabbed at his head as Mordred's mental voice echoed deafeningly through his mind.

"What is it?" Mithian asked, eyeing Merlin's sudden alarm with concern.

"Mordred!" the warlock said in explanation, tearing across the courtyard and towards Gaius' rooms at a full sprint. Mithian picked up her skirts and hurried after him as quickly as she was able.

Merlin was faster, though, and burst through the door of Gaius' chambers just as Mordred fell while blocking a particularly brutal blow from the larger man. Without any hesitation, Merlin thrust his staff forward and knocked the leather-clad attacker away from his apprentice with a controlled burst of magic. Mordred lay on the floor, gasping for breath as the large man groaned and stirred where he fell against Gaius' potions shelf. Merlin watched as the man stood and angrily spat blood onto the floor.

"Who are you?" Merlin demanded just as Mithian burst into the room. "Did Lord Vidor hire you?"

"I will tell you nothing," the man growled, then he threw a dagger he'd been concealing by his leg, followed quickly by another one that he'd had tucked in the back of his belt.

"MERLIN!" Mordred shouted, even as Merlin vaporized the first knife with the staff and took control of the second with a gesture from his empty hand, freezing it just feet in front of him before sending it hurtling back towards their assailant. The large man had only a second to realize what had happened before the dagger was embedded in his chest, propelled through his thick leather breastplate by Merlin's magic. He looked down at the protruding dagger in shock before staggering back and dropping dead to the floor. No one had even moved when four knights rushed through the door, their swords drawn.

"Don't tell me we're late to the party," Gwaine quipped, noting the man on the floor as he sheathed his sword. Leon, Percival and Elyan followed suit, more calmly moving into the room, followed by a wide-eyed Daegal.

"You're always late, Gwaine," Merlin teased, walking forward to help Mordred stand as Mithian moved to investigate the attacker.

"Is everyone alright?" Leon asked, eyeing Mordred in concern.

"I'll be fine. It wasn't easy, but I managed to hold him off until Merlin arrived," Mordred explained, massaging the shoulder of his sword arm.

"Why didn't you use magic?" Merlin asked curiously. Mordred's face burned in response.

"I was looking for a book to read. I had my back to the door, so I didn't see him come in and he didn't make a sound. I sensed his presence only a second before he was attacking me."

"You managed well enough with a blade," Gwaine offered encouragingly. Mordred smiled in thanks.

"I've been concentrating more on healing magic recently, and working more on my swordsmanship than my defensive magics," Mordred explained sheepishly.

"I have to say I'm grateful for that," Mithian said. "You saved Merlin's life last night."

"You did?" Merlin asked looking proudly at his student. "No one said anything."

Mordred shrugged. "I was glad to do it."

"Thank you," Merlin said earnestly. "Were you able to use magic at all during the fight?"

Mordred nodded. "I was, though it was such a close-quarter fight that I had little time to concentrate and react except to defend myself with small bursts and with my blade."

"That's how I managed when I first started studying magic," Merlin offered encouragingly.

"I expect you were a bit more experienced than I, even then," Mordred chuckled. Merlin merely shrugged.

"What else can you tell us about your attacker?" Leon asked curiously.

"He was an expert swordsman," Mordred continued. "I think he could have even given Arthur a challenge."

"Sounds like some specialized skills to me. Ten coins says he's from Amata," Gwaine said, holding up a pilfered crossbow bolt that he pulled from his belt.

"I don't think that's a very fair bet," Elyan scoffed. "You found the matching arrow in the Amatan's tent. I'm not going to take any bet from you."

"It's just as well you didn't," Mithian said, pulling a short leather cord from under the man's clothing. Everyone moved closer curiously, seeing the small gold pendant for what it was.

The symbol of Amata's army.


A/N: Thanks for reading, I hope you're enjoying it!