Chapter 3
Hi!
I hope you all love this chap too! You'll get some action at the end :D *clappings from overjoyed crowd of readers*
Thanks to Hazuki Yakuza, messie23 and Vivig1212, Anonymous and Guest who alerted, reviewed and/or favorited this story – you have no idea how much I am happy to see that people enjoy this story :D
Vivig1212 : you'll have to wait some more to read about Sherlock's reaction when he sees his little brother ;)I'll try to keep up to your expectations XD
Enjoy and do not forget to...review! :) :) :)
The kings were supposed to arrive in three days.
Everyone in Camelot was working hard to prepare the great celebrations of peace. The castle was in ebullition, the kitchens in frenzy, the servants ran a marathon every day to clean, order the guest chambers, and clean again.
The peace treaty had to go perfectly to ensure Camelot's safety.
Merlin was walking towards Arthur's room, still wondering why he even bothered to try and be on time. It was early morning, but the King had insisted that his manservant woke him up an hour earlier than usual to prepare the festivities. Merlin was going to be on time (for once, but not that he would admit it), but Arthur would obviously find something to make him do more chores.
The warlock yawned, wondering what it felt like to have a normal night of sleep. He never slept a lot, having so much to do for the prat and for Gaius. When he went to sleep, he also had to learn some magic; and he was so invested in his studies that, despite his tiredness, he always read during two or three hours – cleverly using up most of his sleeping time –sigh-.
After waking up Arthur with his usual 'Rise and Shine!', ducking to avoid a goblet (or worse – yuck-), getting the sleepy King out of his bed by pulling his legs and making him fall on his royal backside and escaping his fury, Merlin set off for the training grounds to prepare his King's equipment for the training session – meaning preparing himself mentally for getting hit like a training dummy during two hours.
He was trying to carry Arthur's entire armour and weapons – including three swords, a jousting spear, a regular spear, maces, knives, shields of various colours and shapes; and oh, did he talk about the swords? – to the table of the training grounds when he saw a cloud of dust in the forest. People were coming towards the gates of the lower town. He frowned.
With a discreet flash of his eyes, Merlin increased his vision to observe the newcomers.
There were at least a dozen horsemen, all heavily armed, riding along a ridiculously decorated blue and gold coach. Essetir's colours. What was King Moriarty doing here this early?
He deposed Arthur's stuff on the ground with a loud thump, thought he would have to polish everything again because of his clumsiness, shrugged with defeat, and went to tell Arthur the news.
The King was already in the castle's courtyard, standing regally with Gwen at the top of the marble stairs. Arthur was obviously trying not to look surprised by the arrival of the other King, as the prat loved having the upper hand in all situations.
Merlin quickly placed himself at the left side of the bottom of the stairs, ready to fulfil his King manservant's role and carry – again – an ungrateful King's heavy belongings – he just hoped there were not too many bags.
Moriarty's coach and men entered the courtyard in a thunderous noise. Merlin uncomfortably shivered, and frowned. Why was he suddenly afraid of hooves' sound on the stone pavement? He suspected his magical sixth sense, and sighed – there was never a royal visit without an attempt against the Crown.
A burly man opened the coach's door. His face and forearms were scarred, and his hands were just huge – three times bigger than Merlin's. Ugh, not cool.
The warlock magically scanned the assembly – you could never be too prudent in Camelot.
There was a sorcerer among them! A powerful one at that. Merlin could not tell who it was, nor his intentions – the sorcerer had put a spell on himself that blocked the warlock from detecting him, and he certainly had changed his appearance too-. Anyway, Merlin was sure the sorcerer did not come to bake unicorn cookies for Gwaine.
The King of Essetir stepped out of the coach. The dark-brown-haired man was in his early thirties. He wore a fur cloak, a dark blue shirt displaying Essetir's crest weaved of golden threads, plain black trousers and shoes, and a crown that looked ridiculously large and heavy on the rather short man's head. His dark-eyes betrayed a mocking and power-craving character – not exactly the type of man Merlin would trust.
The manservant sighed and diligently went to fetch the enormous suitcases the burly man was taking down the coach – of course, it was his job to take those huge cases, that were at least as heavy as him, to the guest's chambers. And of course Arthur had assigned Moriarty a chamber at the top of the castle. Just his luck.
After carrying all the cases in front of the guest chamber's doors –using the feather-light spell he had learnt the other night, not that he would tell Gaius- Merlin knocked on Moriarty's door.
'Come in!'
Merlin pushed the door open, showing the cases behind him.
'Will that be all, your Majesty?'
The King was sitting with the burly man. They looked angry at Merlin – they had certainly been interrupted from a deep conversation. Essetir's monarch was now reading some papers, trying to look inconspicuous. He did not look once at Merlin – ungrateful prat.
'Yes. You may go.'
Moriarty had a strange voice. It held a mocking, even ironic tone. Merlin froze. It was not the first time he heard this tone.
'Well? Hurry up! Get out!'
Merlin nearly sagged at hearing that voice again. He was sure he knew it, but did not know how he could have met the King before. And the scary impression he got of the man did not invite Merlin to try and remember.
Moriarty, wondering why the idiot servant was not moving already, looked up. He arched a bored eyebrow, and opened his mouth in disdain. Merlin held his breath. Would the King recognize him?
After a few agonizing seconds, Moriarty closed his mouth and gestured to the warlock to go with an annoyed sigh. The powerful warlock nearly burst out of the room, uncontrollably ran along the corridors, trying not to bang in someone – that would be awkward; how would he explain his sudden fright?, and only stopped when he entered Arthur's room.
'Merrrlin! What did I say about knocking again?'
Arthur was back to his manservant, obviously looking for something.
Merlin closed the door with a loud snap and leaned against the wall, breathing heavily, still wondering what could have provoked such a reaction.
Arthur turned around and saw his servant's distress.
'What happened to you? You saw a big spider, perhaps?,'
Interiorly, Arthur wondered what could have scared Merlin that much. It certainly took much more than a hairy spider to frighten one of the bravest man he knew – not that he would ever admit it to him.
Merlin took two long breaths, but his erratic breathing did not calm.
'Nothing.' He panted. 'It was-was nothing.'
Arthur raised his eyebrows but did not insist – he would put him on the grill later.
'Now that you are here at last, tell me where you put my red jacket. I can't find it.'
Merlin pulled himself together, thankful for the change of subject. He looked up at Arthur and smirked.
'What!?'
The boy looked insistently at Arthur.
'Merrrlin! Tell me!'
The servant stared at him with even more emphasis.
The King looked at himself.
'So, where is it? I don't se-oh, right.'
Arthur was wearing the jacket he had obviously been looking for for quite some time. Merlin burst out laughing, and ducked to avoid the goblet/jug/pillow/boot/…chamber pot?-yuck- that was flying his way.
'Anyway. That's not why I wanted to see you.' As if. 'I am organizing a welcoming banquet in a little committee. There will be King Moriarty, one of his ambassadors, the round table knights, Gwen, and myself. You and Moriarty's manservant will be serving the whole of us. And you are going to wear the official manservant clothes of Camelot with utmost honour, of course. Tradition is really important during those festivities.'
Arthur took out the horrid feathered hat from behind his back and threw it at Merlin, who reluctantly caught it.
'Go prepare, and be there at seven sharp.'
Merlin moaned. He did not have a good feeling about the banquet. And not only because of the hat.
At seven past two, Merlin was ready to enter the banquet hall. The whole kitchen had laughed at him – they had tried to pity him for a few seconds, but it had just been too hard. The mighty warlock looked at his despicable hat, seriously considered roasting it, but put it back on his head – what he did for the prat, seriously. He sighed.
Merlin pushed the servant's door open and discreetly went to Arthur's side. Moriarty's manservant was already there, filling the two Kings' goblets with wine.
Arthur, who look bored out of his mind, threw him a sharp look, pointing at the other servant: 'See, here is a good servant that arrives on time.' Merlin tried not to roll his eyes in front of the guests – it wasn't his fault he was late, it was the hat's.
Gwen was chatting pleasantly with Moriarty and his ambassador – Merlin nearly crippled his nose in horror –, and the Knights tried not to look too bored. Everything seemed totally normal.
The warlock tried to shake off his head the foreboding feeling he had had for the entire day.
Arthur took a sip of his wine.
Merlin tensed.
Moriarty smirked.
The Knights stopped their chatting.
Arthur began coughing blood. His eyes rolled in their sockets.
Everyone was petrified. Merlin was first to regain movement, and was at Arthur's side by the instant. The King was not dead yet, but his pulse was weakening by the second.
He yelled at the visiting king – it could only be him anyway, and the smirk Moriarty had plastered on his evil face was a sufficient proof of his guilt.
'What did you do? Which poison is it?'
The knights confusedly stood up to catch the treacherous King, but were thrown back by an invisible force. Merlin sighed. The sorcerer was the black-haired and clear blue-eyed 'ambassador' of Essetir.
Moriarty smirked again. It was becoming predictable.
'This is the Oefgon poison. There is only one flower able to cure it. The species is so rare there is only one place where you can find it. I went there and took all the flowers. But fear not. I've got the antidote.'
Gwaine growled.
'You're lying. There must be other flowers of the same species! Why would we listen to you?'
'Perhaps I lied. Perhaps not. But anyway, the poison takes only five minutes to kill. So even if I was lying about the flowers, you have no way to heal your King in time.'
Merlin was panicking. Moriarty spoke the truth. Arthur was really dying, he could feel his pulse weakening by the second. And there was nothing he could do - he was bad at healing magic. Shabby. Shoddy.
He stopped his mental rambling – it always happened to him when he panicked.
'What do you want?'
'Oh…What I want is simple, really. I am going to give the antidote to Arthur only if someone here surrenders without fighting.'
Merlin cringed. He did not like where this blackmailing was going.
'Who do you want?'
'I want Emrys.'
Mwahaha. I am so evil XD
I hope you are still enjoying the story :) Do not forget to review!
I'll bake you all virtual Gwaine's unicorn cookies if you do!
Until next chapter!
Airin9