Now
"Emrys," Adelina repeated when Em failed to respond. "Do you have any ideas?"
"We can't just let them stroll in here," Alvarr interjected, speaking over Em.
Em shrugged helplessly. His head pounded, thinking about coming face-to-face with the prince—no, he was the king now. Would Arthur look different? Did Em look different?
Iseldir rolled his eyes. "You young people are so dramatic. Just hit them with a simple sleeping spell. Fetch your grandmother and Mordred, Alvarr; they have the strongest healing magic. Em can serve as a channel for them to amplify their magic."
"I'll knock myself out, putting a whole patrol into a magical sleep," Em said.
"You can just wake up when they do," Iseldir said with a grin, clapping his nephew on the back.
Adelina could tell Em faked his returning smile. It did not reach his eyes.
Then
The next day, Em went about his normal routine—fetching Arthur's breakfast, walking the dogs, the daily chores that needed done. At ten, Arthur told him they were heading down the yard to train.
"Can I go get my own sword? I hate the practice swords," Em begged.
"You better be there in ten minutes," was all Arthur said. Em took off at a sprint.
He met the prince down at the training yard, flanked by Sionnach and Bandit. The puppy crawled all over Bandit as he tried to laze in the sun. Arthur quirked an eyebrow at Em. "Can't go anywhere without your mongrels, can you, Merlin?"
"Beckett needed to take Pike and Trout on a royal hunt today with the king. That means Holt is in charge of keeping the kennel running smoothly, so Bandit has no one to play with today. Sionnach threw a fit when I tried to leave the kennel with just Bandit—I was just gonna leave in the puppy pen—so I had to take her with me."
"Who the hell are Pike and Trout?" Arthur said in bewilderment.
"It's what the kennel master's assistant calls your hunting dogs. You never gave them names, and every dog deserves a name."
"Their names are Augustus and Alexander, after kings of old!"
Em wrinkled his nose. "Those are pretty awful. I like Pike and Trout better. Besides, they respond to those names."
Arthur groaned loudly. "I am not continuing this conversation. Get in position, Merlin."
Em assumed a loose fighting stance, a form from an ancient Dragonlord sparring style. Arthur called him lazy, but Em only offered him a crooked grin and an eye roll. He nimbly danced around Arthur, darting in and out of the prince's range. When Em did come into range, he delivered light blows meant to startle his opponent rather than actually inflict damage. The two of them wore heavy mail, but Em had a lighter build so he moved more fluidly.
"Damn it, Merlin, stop playing around," Arthur grunted.
"Yes, sire," Em said. He switched out of the sparring style and took up a more traditional approach. The training field rang with the sounds of two steel swords colliding against each other. Em matched Arthur blow-for-blow, but the prince eventually disarmed him.
"Why did you fool around, at the beginning? You should have focused your energy on beating me—not that you can, of course," Arthur said.
"I wasn't fooling around. I just use it when I spar, to loosen up. My brother and I used to spend hours sparring that way. It helps improves your coordination and foot placement during a fight without driving yourself to exhaustion."
"You used to spar for fun?"
"When I didn't have lessons or I wasn't needed in the fields," Em said. "Or explore the woods with my friends and siblings. There's not much to do."
"That explains how someone as scrawny as you got to be somewhat muscular."
"I am wiry, sire. I am not scrawny."
"If you say so." Arthur resumed a fighting stance. After they began trading casual blows, he said, "A delegation from Mercia will be arriving tomorrow to seal our treaty. You'll be expected to serve at the feast tomorrow night. We'll keep you at a table for the lesser nobles. We can't have you spilling wine on the king and causing another war."
"Isn't the Mercian king called Bayard?" Em inquired, even though he already knew the king's name. Ruadan made sure his students knew the influential political players of each kingdom in Albion.
"King Bayard, yes."
"Thank you for emphasizing his important title, Prince Arthur. I would have never guessed that King Bayard was to be addressed as such." Em took advantage of Arthur's exasperation—he thought he saw the prince roll his eyes—and struck a vicious blow that sent Arthur's sword flying out of his hands. At the very same moment, Sir Magnus was coming out the palace entrance to the training guards.
Em had the privilege of hearing Magnus mock Arthur for over twenty minutes. Despite his dislike of the bothersome knight, hearing someone else take shots at Arthur was sidesplitting to listen to.
Arthur told Em he needed to look less like "an untidy street urchin from the Lower Town" and more like a "proper manservant who actually deserves his wages" for the royal banquet. After he finished he duties for the day, Em sought out Gwen to enlist her help.
She found a spare servant's uniform in a storeroom for Em to wear for the banquet. As a personal manservant, Em did not have to wear the typical uniform the other servants of the royal household wore. However, for an official royal banquet, Uther wanted a cohesive uniform amongst all the servants. The uniform itself was not bad. It consisted of a red, sleeveless tunic with the Pendragon crest on the chest and a charcoal gray shirt worn underneath the tunic. Em would wear his own trousers and borrow a pair of dress boots from Gaiuis's younger days. Gwen even gave Em a haircut in preparation.
"You'll be as well-dressed as a nobleman tomorrow," Gwen told him. Em failed to notice her blushing.
"What will you wear?" Em asked.
"One of Lady Morgana's castoff dresses. It's a style from a couple years ago, but much finer than anything I could ever hope to afford on my own. She gives me all her old dresses," Gwen said. "I bet Prince Arthur would let you take his old clothes. Custom dictates a servant gets the master's castoffs."
"I couldn't imagine owning as many shirts as he does. I have three and I feel like that's so many. Two are my older brothers' hand-me-downs," Em said.
"I usually sell the dresses Morgana gives me," Gwen said. "She knows," she added when she saw Em's eyes widen.
Em blinked, cursing himself silently. "Sorry! I was just thinking about how smart that is. It probably brings in a lot of income for your family."
"It keeps us out of severe poverty. It's just Dad and me, anyway. My brother's moved away and my mother died when Elyan and I were young."
"I'm sorry," Em said. "I never knew my father. It's just me, Ma, and my brothers. Will and Gilli are idiots."
Gwen grinned, just the tiniest bit. "Elyan's an idiot, too."
After his morning chores the next day, Em went back to Gaius's chambers to change into his banquet clothes. He polished the boots with a muttered spell and smoothed out the wrinkles in his trousers with a simple cantrip. He burrowed himself in his magic for a minute, resting in the dragon's comfortable presence without the magical creature noticing. He wanted to go and chat with it, but after their last encounter, he figured he should only seek it out if he desperately needed help.
He went to Arthur's chambers to help his irate master change for the banquet, next. Arthur had been grumpy all morning, chucking spoons and goblets and articles of clothing at his manservant when he did something to piss him off. Em dodged easily, which only made the prince angrier. Em did not take the bullying personally, as the king had put Arthur in charge of the delegations with Mercia. Em worried that Arthur would crack under the pressure of it all.
"Took you long enough," Arthur muttered from his desk when he heard the door open.
"Had to get ready myself, sire. I don't wake up every morning looking like this," Em said.
"So you purposely make yourself look untidy and scruffy? What do you do, rub dirt on your face or wrinkle your clothes—" Arthur stopped speaking when he turned around and clasped eyes on Em for the first time. "You actually don't look half-bad. I knew there was a civilized person under there. Your wrinkly clothes and overlong hair were just hiding it."
"Very funny," Em said dryly. "Your outfit for greeting the delegation is hanging on the hook behind your folding screen. And yes, before you ask, I washed it and ironed out the wrinkles." He may have completed Arthur's last-minute task with magic, but what the prince didn't know wouldn't kill him.
Arthur emerged from behind the changing screen a few minutes later, looking resplendent in a polished set of golden ceremonial armor. His cape was a rich wine color and embroidered with an intricate pattern of golden dragons and phoenixes. His breeches and boots were of the finest quality. Em handed the prince his best sword belt and bejeweled ceremonial sword. A servant arrived from the treasury with the golden circlet befitting of a prince who had not yet come of age. Arthur examined himself in the mirror for a long time. Finally satisfied, he swept out of the chambers with Em trotting behind him.
"Nervous, sire?" Em asked.
Arthur shot his servant a withering look. "Do you live for the sheer joy of pissing me off?"
"Um, no?" Em feigned confusion, but his eyes glittered with amusement.
Arthur rolled his eyes. "As I've told you before, I do not get nervous. Anyway, for the welcoming ceremony, Morgana and me will be standing at the bottom of the stairs to the main entrance, flanked by armed guards on both sides. Behind the guards will stand the royal steward, the head housekeeper, the royal cook, and several other high-ranking servants. You and Gwen will join them. Say nothing and do nothing. Stand with your hands clasped behind your back and look straight ahead."
"I don't have to help them unload?" Em asked.
"I haven't finished yet!" Arthur snapped. "After I have exchanged pleasantries with King Bayard and the nobles in the Mercian delegation, the royal steward will show them to their rooms. You and Gwen will show the Mercian servants to their rooms after you have helped them unload their masters' luggage and take it to their rooms in the nobles' wing. Any questions?"
"Will I be required to do anything else before the banquet?"
"Sir Leon, a handful of other knights, and myself are going on a hunt with Bayard and the Mercian knights. I'll need you to help the head of the kennels with my prize hounds and to prepare my horse for the hunt. You'll need one as well"
Em bristled with excitement. "Awesome! Will you need a spear or a bow and arrow?"
"Both. We are not sure what game we will encounter."
After a boring hour of listening to Arthur kiss King Bayard's ass, Em was needed to help unload the Mercian delegation's luggage. Nobles sure brought a lot of stuff with them for a week-long visit. Em had just hauled a ridiculously heavy chest that belong to a knight's wife when he turned a corner and ran into a handmaiden carrying a bundle of clothes. She dropped the bundle with a grunt of surprise. Em stammered out an apology as he helped her gather up the scattered clothes.
"I-I'm sorry, I didn't see you there—"
"It's alright," the girl said with a slight Mercian inflection to her voice. She had the bluest eyes Em had ever seen. "You're the prince's servant, aren't you? It must be such an honor. I don't believe I caught your name…"
"Oh, you know, the prince knew he needed someone he could trust, someone reliable," Em said nonchalantly. "I'm Merlin."
The handmaiden shook his hand. "I'm Cara."
"Good to meet you. Really good," Em said.
"Well, I better get back to work. It was nice meeting you, Merlin." With that, the pretty handmaiden continued down the hall, the fabric of her skirts swishing.
"Nice to meet you. Really nice!" Em called after her. He waited until she turned the corner to groan out a Druidic expletive. Nature, he was awkward.
The hunt took placed at one in the afternoon. Arthur had changed into hunting leathers and Em wore his usual clothes. Beckett and Holt took all the prize hounds from the royal kennels, including Pike and Trout. Holt snuck Bandit in with the rest. Em nearly fell off his horse when he saw his black-coated shepherd loping alongside the pack of well-muscled hounds.
After Beckett gave him a nod, Holt pulled his horse over to ride alongside Em's in the party. Arthur, Leon, and three Camelot knights accompanied Bayard and his cadre of three knights. The nobles seemed to posturing, comparing horses and weapons as they mounted. It was slightly tense and awkward, but it made sense; the two kingdoms had previously been at war for years. Em, Beckett, and Holt hung a few paces back, the hounds going ahead to look for game. Bandit trotted alongside Em's horse happily, his tongue lolling.
"You brought weapons?" Holt said to Em, his eyes wide.
Em nodded. He had a bow strapped to the saddle in front of him, a quiver on his back, and his sword at his hip. Arthur laughed when he saw his servant, but Em wanted to prove that he could hunt just as well as the nobles. He shot game with a bow all the time back in Sábháilte. "Arthur told me I'm fine as long as I don't shoot any Mercians."
"So Sir Leon and Sir Magnus are fair game?" Beckett said in a low voice, so the knights would not hear. The three servants chuckled at this, but quickly shut up when the nobles shot them annoyed looks.
Ten minutes into the hunt, Em saw a rabbit standing still in the underbrush about ten yards away. He strung his bow and released the bowstring. The arrow flew true, hitting the rabbit right through the eye. Bandit obediently went to retrieve his master's kill. Ruadan would be proud of him.
"Good shot, young Merlin," Leon called to him.
"Thank you, sir knight," Em said as he tied the rabbit to his saddle.
"You do know we are planning to go after big game, Merlin?" Arthur said condescendingly.
"Thought I might as well get my dinner for tonight, sire."
Even the Mercians laughed.
The hunt ended with King Bayard killing a large stag. Beckett, Holt, and Em hauled it back with the help of a few manservants fetched from the castle. Em had to take a bath to scrub off all the blood. As Em changed into his finery again, Gaius made a hasty stew with the rabbit for Em to eat before he went to serve at the banquet.
Em scarfed down the stew before skidding out the door to meet Arthur at his chambers. The dogs tried to follow him. They whined piteously when their master slammed the door in their face. Gaius stood up to scratch Bandit's and Sionnach's ears.
"You two really are attached, aren't you?" he said with a wry chuckle. "Don't tell anyone, but I'm pretty fond of the boy myself."
Arthur wanted to stab Bayard. If the man droned on for one more second, Arthur would break the peace treaty on the grounds of him trying to talk the Crown Prince to death.
That probably would not fly with the Council of Lords and Uther, though.
His eyes drifted to Merlin. His big-eared servant stood in a corner with Gwen, the two of them looking like gossiping court ladies. Their heads were bent low together. Merlin's eyes drifted to a pretty handmaiden of Bayard's, a coy thing with big blue eyes. Oh no, the poor boy was going to get his heart broken before the week was over. Arthur would find the whole situation amusing if he did not know he would be the one dealing with the emotional fallout from it. Him and Gwen were going to have to nip this crush in the bud—
Was the wine getting to Arthur? When did he get so involved in a servant's personal life? Arthur shook his head and turned his attention back to Bayard's speech. Bayard had just presented Uther a fine set of golden chalices—one for Uther, one for Arthur. A Mercian servant poured spiced wine into both glasses. The two kings began a series of toasts that bored Arthur to tears.
When he looked in the corner again, Gwen stood by herself. Merlin and the handmaiden were gone.
Arthur grinned. Who knew Merlin had it in him?
Cara's hands twitched nervously. "He'll kill me if I tell you," she said in a low voice. "But I don't think he's up to anything good. Bayard wants Camelot for himself."
Em's magic twitched in response, begging to be released. Em could take down the entire Mercian delegation with a few simple spells. Em felt on edge ever since Cara pulled him out of the banquet hall, begging for help.
"What is Bayard planning? I can protect you," he said.
"He's giving King Uther and his son two chalices. The one for his son… I saw him put something in there last night."
"What was it?"
"I wasn't supposed to see. We're supposed to knock before we go in, but I forgot. I saw him put a vial of some liquid into Arthur's chalice."
Em gulped. "Poison?"
She nodded, looking terrified. "Uther wouldn't recover if his son died. Camelot would be vulnerable to a Mercian attack."
Em's eyes widened. "Nature help us," he whispered. He did not notice the way Cara's eyebrows rose at his words. "Stay here, I have to go save the prince."
He rushed down the hall and flew past the guards stationed at the main entrance. He dashed past lords and ladies, knights and barons, maids and manservants in his effort to get to the royal banquet table. He needed to protect Arthur, he needed to save his people's only chance at freedom.
"Don't drink it, Arthur!" he roared. "The Mercians poisoned it!"
Arthur hearded Merlin's shouted warning just as the goblet was about to touch his lips. He set it down carefully, as the shock registered. His eyes flicked to Uther and then Bayard. The red-faced king and his men drew their swords. The Camelot knights responded in turn. The firelight from the chandelier danced on the steel of their blades.
"This is an egregious insult from a servant," Bayard fumed.
"Put down your sword, Bayard. You're outnumbered," Uther said flatly.
"I would not jeopardize a hard-won peace treaty," Bayard insisted. "What proof does this boy have? Merlin, was it?" He sneered at the manservant.
Merlin froze up. Without pausing to think, Arthur stood up and went around the table. "Merlin!" he said loudly. "Have you been at your cups again? He's only a boy, the mead makes him do crazy things—"
"Someone saw Bayard putting poison in the prince's chalice," Merlin said steadily.
Uther's question was a single word: "Who?"
Merlin hesitated. "I cannot say."
The Mercian delegation shouted angrily, their cries of protest drowning each other out. Bayard's voice rose above the rest, "This is an unfounded and outrageous accusation! I won't listen to this for a second longer."
Uther grabbed the chalice off the table. He held it out to Bayard. "Drink it, then, if you are so sure," he said with raised eyebrows. Then his gaze hardened. "Actually, since young Merlin seems so eager to protect the prince, he should drink it. I will want to kill you myself, Bayard, if the boy is right."
"He will die!" Arthur shouted.
Gaius appeared out of the crowd, his eyes wild and desperate. "He's only a boy, sire, he does not understand."
Uther flicked a dismissive hand at the physician. "Your nephew is nearly a man, Gaius. Let him face the consequences of his actions like one." He beckoned Merlin forward.
Merlin grabbed the chalice. "I'll do it," he said in a wavering voice. His eyes were as hard as flint, though. He took a gulp.
Nothing happened. Uther was telling Bayard that he would have the boy flogged when Merlin collapsed to the ground.
A/N: I'm back, guys! My laptop was broken but I managed to fix it after hours spent researching the problem. I don't need to get a new laptop! I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, "The Poisoned Chalice" is one of my favorite episodes. I am planning on uploading another chapter within the next couple days so I do not leave you guys on a cliffhanger. I have the writing bug after not being able to write on a computer for weeks and weeks.
Just wanted to say thank you to everyone being so supportive of this story, even with my irregular updates and frequent absences. It means the world to me. Since I love attention, feel free to leave me a review. Also, if you publish your own work, tell me what your fic is called so I can give it a read. Writers need to support each other and shameless self-promotion is MORE than welcome. Idc what fandom it is. :) Much love~