A/N: Sorry it's kind of short!


The sun was just peering over the horizon when Arthur, his nerves still jangling from the night's events, knocked on Lancelot's door. The delay in answering was long enough that he wondered if everyone inside had fallen asleep, then Lancelot open the door, fully dressed and looking tired but ready for the day. He stepped aside to let Arthur in, eyeing the guards before the King waved them off.

Gwaine was there, too. They had set up a friendly dice game on a side table, though no money was at stake. Playing for bragging rights, then, or what amounted to them. Or just to keep boredom at bay. Arthur glanced around the room, half-acknowledging Gwaine's greeting. "Where's Merlin?"

"Asleep," Lancelot whispered, nodding back to the shadowed bed where, now that his eyes had adjusted to the dimness, Arthur could see a figure buried to the nose in blankets, topped by a familiar mop of black hair. One scarred hand had escaped the covers, the long fingers trailing over the edge of the bed, while Cabal had draped himself across Merlin's feet. "Gwaine drugged him." There was a note of reproach in Lancelot's voice.

The knight held his hands up in mock surrender, the wide grin on his face a stark contrast to the frown on Lancelot's. "Gaius told me to. He got here right after I did, maybe an hour after everything happened and there's Merlin, nervous as a new bride, and Lancelot not doing a thing to calm him down."

"I was, too," Lancelot scowled.

Gwaine ignored him, "So instead of letting him fret 'til he collapsed, Gaius gave me a potion to give Merlin so he'd get some sleep for once. It worked, too. He hasn't stirred since then. He'll probably sleep until noon."

"He was pretty irritated when he figured out what you'd done. Before he passed out, anyway," Lancelot smirked. "You should be gone when he wakes up."

"I've done worse things to worse people, and I'm still here." Gwaine gave them a sunny smile and laced his fingers behind his head as leaned back in his chair.

"Well, they can't fling you out a window with a thought because they're irritated," Lancelot shot back.

"Anyway," Arthur interrupted before their bickering escalated, "I suppose you've already heard something of what happened last night?"

"That you were shot at in the middle of the night, and while everyone thinks the assassin was aiming at you, he was really aiming at Merlin?" Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Come on, Princess. Merlin's not an idiot, and neither are we. Someone threatens him, and not so long after that someone else levels a crossbow in his direction? You don't have to be a genius to put together clues like that." Gwaine tilted his chair back a bit further on its back legs, and Arthur wondered just how much farther he could push it before he fell over.

"Did he say anything about it? Lord Pynell, I mean. We heard you'd sent for him." Lancelot pulled Merlin's coat off the back of a chair and lay it aside before offering the chair to Arthur.

"No. He denied everything," Arthur sank into the chair and rubbed his gritty eyes, recalling the venom in that particular conversation. It had taken every drop of self-discipline Arthur had to keep from punching Pynell in the face. "He even denied he'd threatened Merlin, though I did get an earful about giving such 'loathsome heathens free reign to wander the countryside and spread their poison about'. Not that we've heard of that many sorcerers in Camelot recently." Arthur shook his head. "Since there was no evidence to link him to the assassin, I had to let him go. But I doubt we've heard the end of this."

"He's an old man, with old ideas. He's never going to let this go," Lancelot said. Arthur nodded and looked back at Merlin. The knight followed the line of his gaze. "You know," he said softly, "He was a wreck earlier because he thought he'd put you in danger."

"That doesn't surprise me. But it was probably best I was there," Arthur said. Lancelot gave him a puzzled look. "Do you think he would have recognized the sound of a crossbow being loaded? And even if he had, would he have gotten out of the way in time?"

The knight shrugged. "Maybe not. But there's a lot he can see, even without eyes to see it."

"He can't see everything," Arthur said. "It was best this way. We're both fine, the assassin was caught, and now that we know Pynell's threat was real, we can deal with it. I just wish he'd said something about it earlier." There came a rustling from the bed and they all glanced over, but Merlin wasn't awake, just unconsciously pushing the blankets off his face. Whatever drug Gaius had used kept the sorcerer in a dreamless sleep.

"You know that's not his way. He worries about everyone but himself," Lancelot smiled sadly before looking back at Arthur. "Did he say anything? The assassin? You said he'd been caught."

"No. He couldn't say anything at all. His tongue was cut out long ago. I don't think he's from anywhere in the five kingdoms, though. By his coloring, I'd say he's from the same part of the world as Stilicho. Blaise's assistant," Arthur added at Gwaine's confused look. "That doesn't help much, and he'll hang, regardless. Still. This is just beginning." He scrubbed his hands over his face and through his hair to wake himself up a bit more. "But things are taken care of for now. You two should get some rest. I . . . " he sighed and pressed to his feet, looking back at Merlin one last time before turning to leave, "I am going to go and write a an uncomfortable letter to a very great lady."