Intentions

Words: 2,601
Characters: Merlin, Arthur, all the knights, OFC
Warnings: Ummm... yeah I've got nothing.
Summary: On their way back to Camelot Arthur and his men are offered hospitality, but perhaps it's wise for them to refuse...
A/N: I'm going to make sure my next one doesn't involve a queasy Merlin who passes out, or it might get old fast. I'm trying to space out the plots and prompts so that you don't get too much of the same thing in one go, but this is just what I happened to be able to write today. I would have saved it for later, or better yet, updated Magic of Everyday Life (MOEL for short because I just could not be bothered typing that every time) but the always lovely battlemaiden518 pointed out this story didn't show up in the archive last time I updated, and I want to see if this time it will. Hopefully whatever problem that occurred is fixed. Oh, and I may not update again tomorrow, as I'm having some friends over, but I'll do my best. Thanks for reading and all of your support, it makes my day :)

"Thank you for your hospitality," Arthur said to the large woman Mildred. She had seen them passing through her village on horseback, the king, his knights and servant, and insisted they stop for a meal. "But we really must continue on our way."

"Are you sure, sire?" Mildred asked, looking crestfallen. "I've a whole cauldron o' stew simmering away."

Merlin's ears perked up and he cursed his stomach for the low growl it made. Luckily he was too far away from the rest of the party to be heard and no doubt mocked. He then cursed his king when Arthur politely replied with "I am sorry to have to say no. But Camelot is expecting us, and I would hate for my queen to worry."

Sure, easy for you to say, thought Merlin sourly. You actually got to eat at breakfast. Merlin had been too busy feeding the horses, putting out the fire and packing up the campsite. Really, how was he expected to cater for six warriors and himself? He was only one servant.

"Will you not even stay and rest?"

Merlin was holding his horse by the offered trough to the side of Mildred's house where it was drinking thirstily. Mildred stood just outside her door and the knights were waiting on horseback.

"I'm afraid not, madam," Arthur said with finality. "Merlin! Hurry up, we've wasted enough time already."

Merlin sighed and rolled his eyes while his back was turned. "Coming sire," he droned. Arthur began to ride out with a final wave to Mildred, the knights following silently, knowing Merlin could catch up. Merlin smirked slightly at Gwaine's face; it seemed he was not the only one who wanted lunch. Merlin began leading his horse back to the path when Mildred stood in front of him, a ready bowl of steaming stew in her pudgy hands. "One for the road?" she offered sweetly.

Merlin glanced between the stew and the backs of the knights, listening to the now louder growls of his stomach. Surely he could just have a bite…

Nodding gratefully Merlin grabbed the bowl and quickly downed half of it, enjoying the rather exotic taste to it - she must have used herbs he hadn't heard of before. Passing the bowl back to Mildred who was watching him expectantly, he uttered a quick "thanks," and jumped on his horse, riding quickly to catch up with the others. He didn't notice the look of confused disappointment on the woman's face as he left.

The trees grew thicker together and the party soon found themselves once again navigating through a leafy forest, Merlin having caught up to ride just behind Arthur, as usual. Gwaine was looking sour.

"You alright there Gwaine?" asked Elyan, amusement in his voice.

"I'd be better with some stew in my stomach," Gwaine replied shortly, glaring daggers into Arthur's back. Ah, if looks could kill, Merlin had a feeling he would have failed his destiny long ago.

"We are already behind schedule," Arthur said pompously, "and I'd hate to run into a worried search party on our way back. We did leave to battle an invading sorcerer, after all."

"Which turned out to be a crazed man who spoke gibberish and scared superstitious old ladies," reminded Merlin quietly. Lancelot shot him a sympathetic smile. He could see how the constant cries of 'evil magic!' would bother him.

"Nevertheless, they will be worried. I'd like to get back before there is a panic."

Gwaine scoffed. "More like you'd rather get home before you have to spend another night away from your warm bed, aye princess?" Merlin made a mental note to never get between Gwaine and his food. Arthur simply rolled his eyes and didn't answer. The knights continued to chatter behind him, Merlin occasionally interjecting, but mostly content to just listen to the banter between them. But slowly he grew quieter, beginning to feel something was wrong. His stomach had begun to do backflips and his head was feeling rather heavy. He shook his head to try and clear it, but that only succeeded in giving him a dizzy spell and a strong urge to throw up. Merlin pushed the stew back down and gripped the reins of his horse tighter.

"You alright there, Merlin?" Leon asked, who was riding right behind him. "You've begun to sway."

Merlin would have looked back at the knight but found the threat of such movement was already blurring his vision. "Yeah, I'm…" Merlin tried, his tongue feeling swollen and dry.

Arthur looked back to see his servant looking rather more pale than usual. "Merlin, I swear, if you're about to swoon like a complete and utter girl - "

But it was too late. Merlin's eyes rolled back in his head and he fell heavily to the ground.

Merlin's dreams were full of vivid colours and strange shapes that he promptly forgot on waking up. Reality came back to him slowly and very unhappily. Sound began to reach his ears in blotches, his head filled with a shrill whistling that drowned out most else.

"Get… water…. Try… on his side…" Someone was speaking. No, multiple someones. There were voices and there was noise and the whistling got louder and Merlin groaned, trying to block his ears with his hands but finding he couldn't actually quite remember how to move them. "Merlin? Merlin, wake up." More speaking. More noise. Merlin groaned again.

"Come on, Merlin, enough of this," said another voice. This voice was much more prattish, in his opinion, but he couldn't quite remember why. "Open your eyes already."

Were his eyes not open? Oh. That would explain how dark it was. Merlin took a few deep breaths, regretting them as soon as they caused his nauseous stomach to swish around, and tried to find the connection from his brain to his eyes.

"Come on, mate," said a third voice. "Come back to us."

I'm trying, Merlin thought impatiently, if I could just remember how to… ah! Finally he managed to crack open one eye, and then the other, a blurry mix of shapes and colours once again assaulting him. It was too much and he quickly shut them again. "Wha…" he tried. If anything his tongue felt thicker than before.

"Alright Merlin, time to snap out of it. Come on, you lazy bugger." Merlin felt himself being lifted into a sitting position and clenched his jaw shut as he fought to keep his food down. He was leaning against a strong arm and, using that as an anchor, tried to regain control of his rebelling body. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he managed to open his eyes and this time keep them open.

An array of concerned faces met him with Arthur to the fore. Lancelot was just to the side of his vision and, Merlin figured out, the one holding him steady. "What… what happened?" Merlin choked out, his voice rough and his throat scratchy.

"We were hoping you could tell us," Elyan said. They all continued to stare and Merlin began to feel uncomfortable under their gaze. He shifted slightly, then winced when it caused his stomach to churn. This was getting ridiculous.

"I don't know, I…" Merlin thought back but had trouble focusing. "I started to feel sick and… oh…" he moaned and leaned forward, scrunching his eyes shut. Gods, but he felt like hell.

"Merlin," came Lancelot's quiet voice, "did you eat this morning?"

If Merlin had kept his eyes open, he may have noticed the way Arthur tensed up at the question, or the guilt that began to show on his face. This wasn't all because he had been in a rush, was it?

"I - I can't… wait…" Merlin forced his thoughts into order, his head pounding with the effort. "I had some of that… that stew earlier. The one the village lady offered."

"You what?" cut in Arthur indignantly. "Merlin, I distinctly said - "

"Give me a break Arthur, I was hungry," sighed Merlin, finally opening his eyes. He had begun to look more lucid.

"What was in the stew?" asked Leon who had straightened back up and was looking back the way they had come.

"I dunno… There was some taste I couldn't place. I thought she must have some used some weird herbs or… oh." Realisation dawned.

"Oh indeed," Gwaine muttered. "I do believe we need to have another chat with dear old Mildred."

"No, no I'm - I'm better now, there's no need to - "

Arthur sighed. "Merlin, if we have a citizen of Camelot trying to poison passers-by we can hardly just let it go. We're going to have to investigate."

By this point Merlin was attempting to stand, and it was only with Lancelot's help that he managed it. Everything was still frighteningly off-balance. "It could have been a mistake," he suggested. "Maybe just something I'm not used to eating, or - "

"Or it had nothing to do with the stew," said Arthur impatiently. "The point is, we mustn't take the chance. So now, because of you Merlin, we're going to be even later." Turning to the knights at large, he said "time to backtrack, men."

Mildred had gone impressively pale on the reappearance of the Camelot patrol. She stood outside her little house, pasted a shaky smile on her face, and clasped her hands behind her back. "What brings you back so soon, m'lord?" she asked nervously as he came to a stop in front of her.

"A question for you," came the cold reply. King Arthur jumped gracefully off of his steed and stood in front of her, every bit as imposing as the rumours said he was. "A simple one, really. Did you attempt to poison my manservant?" He pointed to the scrawny boy atop the darker of the horses, who was slightly stooped and looking dazed. One of the knights, handsome with short hair and a light beard, had positioned his horse right next to the boy's, one hand hovering slightly in the air as if ready to reach out and steady if needed.

Mildred looked between them, betraying her own fear through the nervous twitch of her eyes. "Of course not, sire, I would never - "

"The truth, if you please," her king interrupted, stepping forward and into her personal space. Mildred took a step back only to find herself with nowhere to go.

"M'lord, I - "

"The truth!"

"It were only meant to knock him out, sire!" she admitted suddenly, her hands coming up as if to block his murderous gaze. "T'was just a drug, a simple herb! Only meant to knock him out!"

"It did that well enough," said the scraggly haired knight as he jumped off his horse and advanced until he was just behind Arthur. "Knocked him right off his horse." His voice was low and angry. Mildred looked away, only to see the same anger in each face of the knights.

"I - it wasn't meant to happen like this!" she cried, only wanting them to stop looking at her like that, stop judging her, she was a good person, really, she didn't want this, any of this - "he shoulda passed out soon as he downed it! I don't understand why it didn't work! I would have just hidden him and waited for you to have left. This - this is all wrong!"

"You expected me to just leave without my manservant? Not even wonder where he had gone?" asked the monarch, his voice almost incredulous.

"You - you were leaving anyways, and he's just a servant! I didn't think you would miss him!"

"You have a lot to learn then, don't you?"

"Why did you wish to take him?" asked the knight by the servant's side, his hand now on the boy's shoulder as he appeared to be drooping more. She wasn't surprised, that was how it worked - kept the victim drowsy and unco-ordinated long enough for… "what were you looking to gain?" the man looked nervous for her answer.

"Or any of us, for that matter?" put in another knight, the burly, bald one. "She did offer it to all of us."

"What were you going to do to him?" and her attention was back on King Arthur and his deadly gaze.

The questions, the animosity rolling off the noble men, the lack of space, the pressure, so much pressure… Mildred broke down.

"I only wanted to save my son!" she cried, tears forming in her eyes. "He was taken, by slave traders, a few weeks ago and - "she began to hiccup as the tears tracked down her cheeks - "and they said they'd give 'im back if I had something to bargain with, and when I saw yous, I knew they wouldn't say no, and I just - I was desperate I - I just want my son back!" she finished, collapsing to her knees. Arthur had taken a step back during her confession and now looked at her with a calculating expression. She continued to cry, completely overwhelmed.

"Sire." Arthur turned back to his second-in-command, the blonde knight, and walked back to where he was now standing by his horse. They conversed quietly for a few minutes before Arthur turned his attention back on the weeping woman.

"Where was your son taken?" the man asked regally, looking down his nose at her.

Mildred coughed and looked up at him in confusion. "S… sire?"

"Where did you last see these slave traders?"

"In… in the woods not far from here, by the well… But - but why - "

"We will go out and search for them immediately."

Mildred's eyes went round and her mouth fell open as her heart soared. Surely, surely he would not help her after what she had done? "You do not mean..?"

"We will find your son."

Mildred burst into tears once more, what little posture she had left collapsing until her face was almost level with King Arthur's boots. "Oh sire thank you, thank you so much, thank you!"

"But know this." Mildred looked back up at him. His voice was calm and cold, detached, and his face was set. "This does not and will not excuse what you have done. If you had simply asked for our help in the first place, we would not have hesitated. Now you will be punished along with the traders."

After a brief pause Mildred nodded, her eyes red but no more tears forthcoming. "Very well, sire. Of course. Please, just, bring my son home. Please."

Arthur nodded and walked back to his horse without a glance. The shaggy-haired one glared at her a moment longer before following, and soon the patrol was getting ready to leave in the direction she had told them. Just as they were about to ride away, the young servant caught her eye. He was still trembling and half-dazed from the herb she had given him, his friend knight watching him warily in case of a fall. He looked sick and tired and barely able to remain sitting up straight, but when she looked him in the eye, he smiled and murmured quietly.

"Don't worry. We'll find him."

And with that they rode away, and Mildred was left on the ground, staring after them in shock.