Greetings Readers! Here's another oneshot for your reading enjoyment (I hope!).

Warning: This is actually a humor oneshot, believe it or not. I actually have a few other oneshots that are more somber or just sad bouncing around in my depressed muse's repertoire, but this one came to me and I had to write it down.

Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin or any of its characters. Sigh

"Everything's going to be all right," Merlin promised, the brightness of his smile still somehow encouraging in the darkness of the dungeon cells, "I promise. You will get out of here."

The manservant then clasped the man's arm from between the prison bars before sprinting up the stairs in search of the king. Gestal, who stood in the dungeon cell after being unjustly accused of sorcery, let himself sink into a sitting position on the hay and looked gloomily out into the darkness.

It had been a whirlwind few days since he'd ventured into Camelot. He'd simply come into the kingdom walls to try selling the wares he made on his farm out in the forests, and to see the majestic castle and fantastic activity of the square that he'd been told about since he was a boy. He had not expected to run into the black-haired young man who showed him around the city and introduced him to people who could give him fairly priced lodgings. He had not expected to be shown around the palace itself by the young man, who turned out to be the king's manservant, after confessing in an embarrassed moment of weakness that he'd always dreamed of seeing the castle.

He certainly hadn't expected to be accused of making the king's betrothed desperately ill and near the brink of death with sorcery.

He had been waiting for Merlin to come back from the kitchens with some lunch (lunch fit for a king, Merlin had promised with a sly wink) when the king's uncle and several guards rushed into the physician's chambers. Gestal had been arrested with barely any explanation, the silence broken by a gasp of shock and a clatter of plates as Merlin dropped the lunch he was delivering.

He didn't know Merlin, but somehow he trusted the man completely. However, that didn't keep him from trembling violently at the thought of what the accusation of magic – magic – would do to him. He would be lucky to survive this with his head.

Gestal hid his face in his hands and let out a groan of fear and trepidation. One of the guards looked through the bars. "All right in there?"

"What do you think?" If he hadn't been so scared, the man might have rethought barking his answer at the man who, admittedly, held his present fate in his hands. But he was scared. "I'm accused of sorcery but I'm innocent!"

The other guard nodded sagely. "Of course you are."

The imprisoned man's eyes narrowed. The first guard read his glare accurately and replied. "Calm yourself – he's being serious. We know you're innocent." He snorted. "Even if the king don't yet."

"But," Gestal's mouth fell open. "How?"

The second guard shrugged. "Cause Merlin believes you, dun he? And he's always right."

The guards all burst out into appreciative laughter. "Don't know why the king doesn't just give up and accept it," the first guard choked out through his laughter, "Every single time Merlin says something's not right or that someone's been accused for something they didn't do it, he turns out to be right."

"Gaius – the first time AND the second time." One guard replied, ticking off two fingers.

"The lady Gwen – the first and second time."

"The queen turned out to be a troll and was enchanting the king's father."

"Sir Gwaine when he attacked the thugs trying to kill the king…"

Gestal's face grew increasingly astonished as the guards continued to nonchalantly recount all the times Merlin had been proven right despite all the upper people claiming he was wrong. Eventually, he stopped responding and the guards noticed.

"Eh, looks like he needs something stiff." The first guard said calmly and begin fishing around in his tunic for a flask. He uncorked the flask and held it under the man's nose. "Fancy a pint?"

···

Several hours later, by the time that the falsely imprisoned man had relaxed enough under the influence of the guard's encouragement and alcohol, Merlin could be heard tripping down the stairs, cheekily admonishing someone for being a stubborn prat. The guards all stood at attention as the king, with his manservant following closely behind, walked in front of the occupied cell.

Apparently, Merlin had discovered that it was Morgana – the king's estranged sister – who had grievously poisoned the king's beloved by somehow sneaking an enchanted poppet underneath the girl's bed. He had removed the poppet and shown it to the king, and both had recognized Morgana's handiwork. That and the fact that she'd left a piece of familiar hair behind in her haste.

To his credit, the golden-haired king looked incredibly apologetic while still looking regal as he told the man he was free to go. He even, with a less than subtle suggestion from his manservant that was made more potent with the mention of how his beloved wanted to make amends as well, invited the man to a private dinner with just him, Gwen, and Merlin.

Gestal found himself agreeing because it was always a good idea to go along with the king, and also because the young man looked considerably nicer when he wasn't accusing you of sorcery against his beloved. Merlin's reassuring nod behind the king's back didn't hurt either.

Arthur clasped Gestal's arm after he was released and began steering him towards the stairs, chatting with him to put the man at ease. Merlin nodded with satisfaction before following behind.

"Merlin?"

Merlin turned around and looked at the first guard. "Yeah, Ferhweard?"

"Losing a bit of yer touch, aren't ya?" The guard laughed. "Took you how long to get him out this time?"

Merlin rolled his eyes. "You try talking sense into the prat! It's not as easy as it looks." And then with a grin he said his goodbyes and sprinted up the stairs after Arthur and Gestal.

"Like clockwork, that is." The second guard grinned. "Don't know why it takes that long for the king to get it. The lad always turns out to be right."

"Even when he's said he has magic?" One of the newer guards asked curiously.

All the guards looked at each other and then burst out into raucous laughter, shaking their heads.

Because that idea was just ridiculous.

A/N: The guards at Camelot get a lot of grief - and probably rightfully so, since their track record with prisoners doesn't appear to be at its best. I like the idea that they can see what Arthur can't – that Merlin is ALWAYS right when it comes to his accusations and defenses. Always. Of course, I can't have them be perfect, hence why they're still oblivious to the big truth. Bwahahaha!

I hope you liked it!

Thanks for reading and please review! I like to know what people think so far, and they make me happy!