Chapter 12: Prepared

When Arthur opened his eyes in the morning, Merlin was sitting at the edge of his pallet, staring at him. The Prince blinked, yawned and stretched a little, until he became aware of Merlin's scrutiny. He flinched, then exclaimed, "Lords above, Merlin! You scared the living hells out of me!" He scowled. "What are you doing, watching me sleep that? It's freaking me out!"

"How are you feeling this morning?" Merlin asked him, trying to tone down on his eagerness.

He seemed to have failed at that, as Arthur's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Why are you asking me like that?"

Merlin blinked, momentarily panicked, then thought to say, "I was just wondering if that new medicine was helping you."

"Oh," Arthur replied. He wriggled on the bed until he had pushed himself back into the headboard and sat up, then stilled. He seemed to assess himself for a moment, frowning.

"What?" Merlin asked him.

"I feel…" He stopped, almost going a little cross-eyed as he seemed to consider it.

"Better?"

Arthur bit his lip. "I don't know." He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. "A little hard to tell." He grimaced. "I could just about kill for a dose of theriac right now…"

Merlin winced. "But… are you in any pain?"

Arthur wriggled some more on the bed. "Not in any great pain, no," he said after a long moment. He glanced at Merlin. "Why, was I making noise in my sleep or something?"

Merlin shook his head, trying not to let his disappointment show. He had to admit, he had hoped for a spectacular outcome. Arthur, waking up smiling, ready to shout from the rooftops that he was feeling like he had been reborn. After the drama of last night, it was terribly anticlimactic. For all he knew, Arthur's condition had not improved at all.

Had Merlin failed? He thought he had seen and felt the curse lift, but here Arthur was, appearing practically unchanged. Had Morris discovered Merlin's secret for nothing?

As if on cue, the manservant entered the chambers, head ducked and shoulders hunched. He walked hesitantly, then paused in the archway to the sideroom. He carefully looked Arthur over. Something like relief flashed across his face, then he greeted Arthur with a belated bow and a quick Your Highness before turning his eyes on Merlin. His mouth twisted when their gazes met. He did not reply to Merlin's tentative greeting, but quickly looked away and went about his chores.

Arthur immediately caught on that something was off.

"You two had an argument or something?" he asked when Morris had pulled out an outfit for Arthur and left to fetch him breakfast.

Merlin had pulled Arthur up from the bed and was offering him his crutches. "We had a bit of a… misunderstanding." He did not quite meet Arthur's eyes.

Arthur hummed. "It's not like you to argue with people, Merlin." He smirked. "Unless it's with a prince, that is."

Merlin only managed a weak smile in response.

"Well, I'm sure you two will sort it out." Arthur cleared his throat, then added more stiffly, "Would you mind helping me with my ablutions?"

Merlin had already helped Arthur get washed and dressed when Morris returned with breakfast. He had taken a long time today and for a moment, Merlin was convinced it was because he had gone and fetched the guards after all. But nobody came rushing in shouting and wielding a sword, and Morris went about quietly serving Arthur his breakfast, not commenting when Arthur invited Merlin to sit down and share the tray with him.

"How are your siblings, Morris?" Arthur asked as Morris arranged his plate and poured him a chalice of fresh well water.

"As good as can be expected, my lord, thank you for asking," the servant replied. He hesitated, then raked his eyes over the Prince, adding in an intense sort of voice, "How about Your Highness? Are you feeling quite well today, sire?"

Arthur did not seem to notice his scrutiny. "Well enough. Got out of bed, didn't I?" he said, not unkindly, then pierced one of the sausages on the plate with his fork and offered it to Merlin.

Merlin took the sausage, but found he had no appetite. Morris had stopped looking the Prince over and had come to stand behind the chair, hands laced behind his back, eyes narrowed as he watched Merlin like a hawk.

Part of Merlin could appreciate Morris's protectiveness for Arthur. He had spent weeks on improving their relationship and was happy the servant had come to care so much about his Prince that he was willing to stare down the same sorcerer that had him almost burst into frightened tears the night before. Still, Morris's scrutiny was unnerving. Merlin was glad when Arthur and he disappeared from the chambers for their customary walk around the garden.

Arthur did not suffer another episode that day. But when Gaius came to ask Arthur about the pain and bring him another nutritious potion, the Prince told him the same thing as he had told Merlin: He was not in any great pain today, but he couldn't say whether or not he was vastly improved and the theriac cravings were bad.

"We did it wrong, didn't we?" Merlin said to Gaius over dinner that night. "I messed up the magic somehow."

"There is no reason to believe that you did," the physician replied matter-of-factly. "Remember, the curse lingered for a year. Perhaps the Prince's body simply needs time to adjust." He paused, then added more tensely, "Did Morris say anything to you?"

Merlin shook his head. "He kept glaring at me, but no, he didn't say anything. He can't have reported me, either, as we are both still here, so…"

Gaius's shoulders lost some of their tension. "Then there might indeed be a chance that he will keep your secret. Only time will tell."

The next few days were nerve-racking. If Morris was indeed thinking about reporting Merlin, he obviously had not found it in him to do it yet. But he was cold and stiff with Merlin, even when Arthur awkwardly tried to intervene and get them to make up.

As for Arthur, he did not suffer any episodes, which was promising. He kept taking the nutritious potion without question, too. But whenever Merlin dared to ask about his state of discomfort, he gave evasive answers. The theriac cravings were as strong as ever, too. In fact, Arthur appeared unusually twitchy and distracted, making grabby hands for the half-doses Gaius granted him every other day or so, and looking tense and contemplative while they made their turns about the garden, as if ruminating over some great riddle.

Addiction, Merlin had learned from Gaius, now that his mentor was allowed to speak of it, was a complex issue to handle. Despite knowing Arthur might not be in acute need of theriac outside an episode, Gaius could not cut Arthur off completely. Taking away theriac all together and forcing the body into a full withdrawal, as Gaius had called it, was apparently almost as dangerous as giving too much theriac. After a year of regular consumption, the body needed it to function. If the counter-curse had indeed worked and Arthur no longer suffered any severe episodes, weaning him off for good would be a long process and some of the cravings might never leave Arthur for the rest of his life.

It was a depressing thought, Merlin found. But not nearly as depressing as walking into Arthur's rooms for six days in a row and seeing no actual proof that Arthur was feeling better, despite the fact that he had gone without an episode for an unusual long period of time. Two days were bad days, with Arthur refusing to get out of bed. On the other days, he appeared moody and distant.

On day seven, Merlin entered the Prince's chambers, only to be immediately confronted by a quietly furious Morris.

"You lied to me!" he hissed in a low voice, crowding Merlin into the wall next to the door, succeeding in spite of his smaller stature through sheer force of determination.

Merlin blinked down at him, uncomprehending.

"You almost had me convinced, you know?" Morris went on. "I almost thought that you…" He shook his head, then grabbed Merlin harshly by the shoulders. "One more chance! Fix him! Lift the spell, or whatever you did to him. If you don't, I'll call the guards and tell them everything."

When Merlin kept staring at Morris, perplexed, Morris actually manhandled him towards the sideroom and pushed him through the archway, arms crossed and eyes narrowed.

Merlin stumbled forward, then stilled.

Arthur was sitting on the edge of his bed, still clad in his nightclothes and hunched over, silent tears running down his face. He was trembling all over, hands curled into the sheets.

Merlin stopped breathing for a moment. In all their time together, even with all the pain and suffering Arthur had endured, Merlin had never seen him outright weep.

Something had to be horribly wrong!

Merlin was by Arthur's side a moment later, coming to kneel before him, eyes searching as his heart fell into a frantic rhythm. There seemed to be nothing outwardly wrong with the Prince – no injuries apart from the obvious, no signs of illness, no bleeding. Merlin took one of Arthur's hands into his. It was warm and dry, not clammy like they tended to be during an episode.

Merlin's touch had Arthur look up and grimace. His face was a mess of red splotches and wet cheeks.

"Arthur, what's wrong?" Merlin demanded. "Is it the pain?"

Arthur sniffed, then averted his eyes upwards. "No," he choked out. His cheeks flushed dark red, perhaps embarrassed at being caught crying.

"The cravings, then?" Merlin pushed. "Shall I fetch Gaius?"

"No," Arthur repeated. With his free hand, he palmed at his cheeks, eyes still on the ceiling.

"Then what is it?" Merlin urged him, squeezing his hand. "Please, tell me so I can help you!"

"Merlin," Arthur rasped and when his eyes finally met Merlin's again, they were filled with such emotion that it momentarily took Merlin's breath away. "There is… hardly any pain."

Merlin's eyes widened, then he smiled. Small at first, though it quickly took over his entire face until his cheeks were hurting from the sheer intensity of his grin.

"Really?" he exclaimed, breathless. "You're feeling better?"

Arthur nodded. He sniffed again, then pulled his fingers from Merlin's grasp, now scrubbing both hands over his face. "Gods, I'm embarrassing myself here. Sorry. This is… I'm sorry you have to see this."

"What on Earth are you apologising for?" Merlin asked and grasped Arthur's right thigh. "It's worked, the ma—" He stopped himself just in time. "The potion is working, yes?"

Arthur nodded, still busy scrubbing his face and removing the evidence of his breakdown.

"And it started this morning?" Merlin prodded. "You've been feeling better since waking up?"

"No," Arthur replied, his voice still hoarse and thick from tears, though he appeared to be quickly collecting himself. "It's been better for the whole week."

"The whole week?" Merlin's grin slipped as his mouth went slack with confused surprise.

Arthur sniffled a little. "I've never gone more than a four or five days without an episode, I—" He cleared his throat. "There's still some twinges. A pressure sometimes, I think, but it's not— This is bearable, Merlin, even without the theriac." His face started crumpling again for a second, though Arthur valiantly fought the tears and laughed derisively at himself. "Look at me, crying like a little girl with a scraped knee over not feeling great pain. What is wrong with me?"

"Nothing is wrong with you! You've been relieved of year-long agony," Merlin told him and found that his own eyes had grown wet. "You're allowed to cry over that, you prat!"

Arthur's lip trembled at his words and that was the final straw. Merlin got up from his knees and pulled Arthur into a tight hug.

It was awkward, with Arthur sitting on the bed, and Merlin having to step between his legs and bow down to embrace him, but that did not matter. Merlin had really done it. He had rid Arthur of the curse.

Arthur stiffened at first, but only for a moment. Then he held on tightly to Merlin's back, if only for a moment, hiding his face in Merlin's shoulder and squeezing him before starting to push him away.

"Get your hands off the Prince, it's unbecoming," he said haughtily, but when Merlin had pulled back and looked at him, he was smiling.

Merlin smiled back, brushing away a stray tear that had worked its way past his own lashes.

Arthur saw. "Gods, you're even worse than I! What are you crying about?"

Merlin looked at him helplessly. "I'm just so happy for you."

Arthur laughed, a delightful, gurgling sort of sound. "You're the biggest girl's blouse I know! You're ridiculous!" His face softened. "And a good friend."

Merlin palmed at his face as another tear slipped past and averted his eyes, cheeks warming, only to meet Morris's eyes. The manservant had been lingering in the archway and was watching them, an unreadable expression on his face.

A moment of loaded silence followed. Morris was sending him a guarded look. Then he nodded, just once, and Merlin broke out into another grin, not caring when Arthur teased him about the fresh tears running down his cheeks. They were tears of a very different sort of relief.

"But why didn't you say anything?" Merlin asked when he had collected himself. "Why keep this to yourself for a week?"

Arthur promptly averted his eyes. "I didn't want to get my hopes up," he said stiffly. "I was waiting for another episode." He gestured at the end of the bed. "Hand me those, will you?"

It made perfect sense, Merlin supposed, as he grabbed the crutches Arthur had waved at. Of course, Arthur would not be able to tell right away whether or not he had been cured of the episodes. But the general discomfort, the lesser pain he felt on a daily basis…

He studied Arthur and thought that something about the Prince's face looked shifty, something about the tone was off. Now that Merlin knew to look out for it, it almost seemed to him like Arthur was deceiving him.

"Arthur," Merlin pushed at once, holding on to the crutches. "What are you not telling me?"

Arthur pressed his lips together and turned his face away.

"Tell me," Merlin insisted.

"Shut up and give me my crutches," Arthur commanded, still not looking at him as he held out his arm.

Merlin hugged the crutches close. "No. Talk to me."

Arthur swivelled his head at that, but it was to send Merlin a truly venomous glare. "You would hold a cripple hostage by withholding his walking tools?"

Merlin flushed at that, but did not budge. "There's something you're not telling me and the last time you lied to my face, I nearly killed you. Tell me! Now!"

But Arthur's face was closed-off now, his mouth set in a grim line. And suddenly, somehow, Merlin understood. Somehow, Merlin knew.

"You were afraid Gaius would stop giving you the theriac, weren't you?"

Arthur promptly looked away again and Merlin knew he had his answer. A bubble of anger rose in his chest.

"I can't believe you," he snapped. "You were better and you didn't tell us because of your precious theriac!"

Arthur still was not looking at him.

"You were better and you were set on lying to us! How long would you have kept this for yourself if Morris and I hadn't caught you crying? Would you have gone back to faking episodes?"

"You don't know what it's like, Merlin!" And suddenly, Arthur was shouting. "I want theriac! I want it all the time! I want it even though I'm no longer in pain! I want it so badly I would kill a man for it!"

Merlin flinched, retreating on instinct.

Arthur saw and his expression changed abruptly, from anger to despair. "The cravings, they never leave, Merlin," he said hoarsely. "There's voices in my head telling me to lie, to exaggerate, to do anything to get more. The pain is better, yes, but the cravings…" He hung his head, two hands coming up to rub wildly through his hair. "Now that the pain is better, I feel them even more strongly, somehow. I have nothing to focus on but that crawling feeling underneath my skin, telling me to get my next dose! I want to gouge my eyes out, it's so bad."

Merlin swallowed, then came closer and slowly sat down next to Arthur on the bed, brushing their shoulders together and offering quiet support. He knew anything he would say now would only be interpreted as pity.

Arthur lowered his hands and looked at Merlin. For a moment, it seemed like he would start crying again. But then, all of a sudden, something shifted in his face. His eyes hardened, his mouth twisted. But he did not look angry or bitter.

He looked determined.

"Merlin," he said, voice low and intense. "I need you to fetch me Gaius, right now. Before I change my mind."

"Before you change your—" Merlin frowned. "What do you mean?"

Arthur stared at him. "I want to go off the theriac. The new potion is helping. I don't need poppy tears anymore. I need to stop using them. I need get rid of this addiction. I want to start as soon as possible."

Merlin stared at him for a moment, then gave him a relieved smile. "That's brilliant," he said.

But Arthur was not smiling back. If anything, he already seemed to regret his words, some of the determination slipping from his expression.

Hurriedly, Merlin got up. "I'll go get him right now."

"I'll do it, sire. I'll fetch him."

Arthur and Merlin both jumped. Clearly, they had both forgotten Morris was still there, watching from the archway. He had listened to the entire conversation.

"Thank you, Morris," Arthur said stiffly, then watched Morris leave.

"He already knew about your addiction," Merlin told him when he had heard that the door had closed. "There's nothing to be embarrassed about."

Arthur nodded, though he looked uncomfortable still. "It's good he knows," he said with just a hint of bitterness. "It means he won't budge if I start threatening him for not stealing theriac for me."

Merlin tried to smile encouragingly. "I'm sure it won't come to that."

Gaius, however, did not seem nearly as optimistic when he showed up in the Prince's chambers. "It will be a harrowing process," he said. "One that will cost you every strength you have, sire."

Once the physician had arrived, they had all moved to the dining table in the sitting room. Morris had poured everyone a chalice of water, then shily ducked his head but obeyed when Arthur had told him to sit down with them as well.

"I want to do it," Arthur replied. He sounded like a soldier ready to march into battle. Belatedly, Merlin realised that Arthur had been that for years – a knight fighting battles. And from the sound of it, this might be his fiercest battle yet.

"I'm not trying to discourage you," Gaius replied. "I only want you to be prepared for the worst."

"I need to do this, Gaius," Arthur replied firmly. "I'll never be an honourable man again if I don't."

Gaius inclined his head. "We will taper you off, slowly. You are already on half-doses of theriac with some full-day breaks, which is a very good starting point. We will keep up the rhythm first while reducing the amount of poppy tears in the theriac. Then, we will try longer breaks until finally, I won't give you any theriac at all."

Arthur paled a little at that, but what he said was, "That sounds like a good plan."

Gaius studied him from across the table. He seemed to brace himself for a moment, then said, "You need to tell people. Not just Merlin, Morris and I, but anyone you are in contact with."

Arthur scowled. "No."

"Yes," Gaius insisted and Merlin was surprised how brazen he suddenly was, given he was facing the Prince that had threatened him with severe punishment before. "I have obeyed you in the past about keeping quiet about the addiction, but I will not keep quiet again. It is foolish and dangerous."

Arthur promptly looked at the table, though he growled, "You're overstepping, Gaius."

"Your cravings will get worse," Gaius pushed, undeterred by Arthur's bite. "You will lie again, you will deceive and manipulate, and people need to know what to look out for. I know that you have been meeting Princess Morgana and Gwen, so we need to tell them what is happening. Of course, I will also be informing the King."

Arthur leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. He was quiet for a long moment but then, he nodded, just once. It was clear how much the decision cost him and Merlin sighed a little in relief.

Gaius's eyes turned on Merlin and Morris. "You two need to be prepared. He will pull out all the stops. You cannot give in." He sent Merlin a fearsome eyebrow. "But I will hide the theriac, just to make sure you are not tempted."

Blushing, Merlin only nodded.

Gaius looked back at Arthur. "You can't be alone for any of this. You haven't been on such low doses for months. Morris should be around you at all times, in case your body reacts poorly to the smaller dosage."

"We can't ask that of Morris," Merlin said quickly. "He needs time off to be with his siblings. He already sleeps here every night. We can't take away the few hours he has in between to sneak a visit."

"If His Highness needs me—" Morris started.

But Arthur had already raised his hand. "Merlin's right. I can't ask that of you, Morris. I've been inconsiderate enough with you in the past." He looked at all of them, then sighed. "If we're telling Morgana and Gwen, we might as well involve them. They can keep me company for a couple of hours a day, I'm sure. And if Merlin is willing to play the manservant again, too—"

"I'm willing," Merlin said immediately and grinned when Arthur sent him a smile – a weak one, but a smile nonetheless.

"All right," Arthur finally announced, sounding just a little weary. "Let's do it."

The first step was informing Morgana and Gwen and Merlin suggested inviting them over once Gaius had left. As Arthur and Morgana had not talked since their argument in the garden, the Prince baulked again at the suggestion, but ultimately gave in and allowed Morris to fetch them.

When Morgana stepped into the Prince's chamber half an hour later, she was clad in a fine green robe, her head adorned with glittering, jewelled crown. She must have dressed for court, hearing audiences with the King, perhaps. Merlin saw Arthur glance at her head, then grimace. Morgana saw, too, and promptly narrowed her eyes.

"If the mere sight of me pains you so much I'm surprised you invited me here," she said, voice clipped.

Arthur winced, then let out a sigh. "It's not— I'm not—" He sighed again and rubbed a hand over his face before gesturing at the chairs around the table. "Please have a seat, Morgana."

Gwen fetched her mistress a chalice of wine, then looked surprised when Arthur invited her to sit down, too. She threw Merlin a surprised look, but then slid into the chair next to Morgana.

Morgana immediately appeared mollified. "Well, at least you're learning some manners," she conceded and patted Gwen's hand when she continued to look uncomfortable sitting with the Prince and Princess. "Now, what is this all about?"

Arthur told them everything. Reluctantly, stiffly, embarrassed at times, but he told them. Merlin watched Morgana's and Gwen's reactions carefully and was relieved that they did not seem to be succumbing to bouts of tearful pity, as Arthur undoubtedly had feared. Quite on the contrary, once Arthur was done, ending his tale with the request for them to spend time with him while he got weaned off the theriac, Morgana's face was nothing but determined.

"Of course we'll help," she said. "Won't we, Gwen?"

Gwen nodded emphatically, exchanging a long look with Arthur that had both of them momentarily distracted, then awkwardly avert their eyes.

"But I won't sit in these dreadful rooms with you," Morgana went on. "We'll go out. The garden, if we must, though I'd be prefer walking the gallery and gossiping about the lords and ladies." She paused. "You could pay me back by having dinner with Uther and I."

Arthur scoffed. "As if he'd want me there."

"Who cares about what he wants?" Morgana replied. "I want you there. You cannot imagine how absolutely dreadful it is to dine with him on my own."

"Everyone cares what he wants, Morgana. He's the King," Arthur replied.

"And you're his son. The Prince. The Crown Prince."

"I was never made that," Arthur replied bitterly. "I spent my twenty-first birthday in bed, if you recall. The ceremony never happened."

"And because you didn't kneel in front of the throne swearing some dusty oath or the other, you've got no right to dine with your father?"

Arthur let out a huff. "He clearly couldn't care less about my rights, Morgana. He's planning on taking my birth right away from me."

"Well, we won't let him," Morgana replied. "And we'll show him by presenting a united front, and by forcing him to see you for dinner." She paused, then added more softly, "I will say this much, Arthur. Uther might be a hard man and the gods know I have reasons enough to despise him, but he was truly worried that day, when you fell unconscious. You didn't see him. He was practically in tears."

Arthur let out a bitter laugh. "Don't be ridiculous, Morgana."

"He still cares about you," Morgana insisted. "Far be it from me to defend the man after what he has done, but he does love you. Very much."

Arthur looked down at the table. "If he does, he has a great way of showing it, refusing to visit me."

Morgana chuckled drily. "Ah, yes. But you see, Arthur, I think ignoring you is his backwards way to show that he cares. He cannot bear to see you suffer. It pains him too much to see someone he loves hurting."

Arthur did not reply to that. But when Morgana insisted on having dinner with the King the following week before taking her leave with Gwen, Arthur did not refuse her, either.

"For what it's worth, I think Morgana's right," Merlin told him when they were gone. "Dining with the King will force him to confront the fact that you're still here."

"It won't be enough to make him abandon his plans to make Morgana his heir. Hells, I don't even know if I want him to abandon his plans at this point," Arthur replied wearily, then sighed. "Gods, I hate all of this." He pinched the bridge of his nose with two fingers, then muttered, "We haven't even started yet and I could kill for some theriac right now."

"You can do this," Merlin told him firmly. "I believe in you."

Arthur sent him a tired smile. "Then at least one of us does."

On his way out to return to the physican's tower, Merlin was stopped by Morris and pulled into the antechamber.

"Listen," he said, clearly uncomfortable. "I've got my family to think about. They come first, always."

Merlin's chest constricted painfully. "I—I understand," he stammered, unsure what Morris was saying. Had Merlin interpreted too much into his nod earlier? Was he still not willing to keep his secret?

But to Merlin's relief, the servant sent him an earnest look, "But I won't tell on you, not unless I must do it to protect them. Your secret is safe with me." He smiled a small smile. "See it as repayment. You've made my job bearable. The Prince – he can be so kind. I never knew that about him. He changed because of you. And I don't just mean the pain." He glanced towards the door. "I really hope he'll succeed. With the addiction, and everything else as well. I think he'd make a great king."

"Yes," Merlin replied fervently. "Me, too."