See No Arthur, Hear No Arthur...
Summary: Arthur is cursed and becomes invisible to the whole of Camelot – no one can hear or see him, except, of course, for Merlin.
Timeline: Set in season 2
Spoilers: Up to and including season 2
A/N: Thank you once more for reading and for the reviews. I'm really enjoying writing in this fandom once more :D
Chapter 3
"Are you quite sure about this, Merlin?" Gaius asked.
He sat at his workbench, looking over the medallion Merlin had presented to him. Merlin, on the other hand, stood by the open door to the chambers, occasionally glancing over his shoulder to ensure that Arthur hadn't followed him. He bounced on the balls of his feet, impatient.
"No, not really," he answered, taking a step closer to Gaius in order to look over the medallion once more. It was a thick, gold medallion with a peculiar image engraved on it. If he turned his head to the side and squinted, the image looked like a face, but then if he turned his head the other way; it kind of looked like a tree. Either way though, it wasn't the most pleasing thing to look at. "He said he wore it at the feast though."
"Even if that were so," Gaius drawled out, twisting and turning the medallion, "it is highly irregular for an object that has been enchanted to have a lasting effect once removed. I would think that had this been the cause of Arthur's problem, now he is no longer wearing it, others should be able to see him."
"But?" Merlin questioned, voice rising into an almost plea, desperate to cling onto some hope. But that hope was dwindling fast which meant, if the medallion wasn't the cause, then he still had to find out what was.
"But," Gaius continued, the word clipped as he placed the medallion on the workbench and looked to Merlin, "I believe it would not be impossible for a powerful sorcerer to perform such magic."
Merlin felt a small smile twitch at the corners of his mouth and closed his eyes briefly as he let out a breath. Hope was not gone yet. "So what now then?"
"Now? Now you must return to Arthur and keep an eye on him and I must attend to a patient in the lower town." Gaius shook his head, and held up a finger as Merlin opened his mouth to argue. "I will be quick, Merlin, and as soon as I return, I will study this medallion for any traces of magic. Now go before Arthur manages to find some form of mischief to land himself in."
Merlin allowed a small doubtful smile to play on his lips, eyebrows rising for a moment. "How much trouble can one prince get into?"
But Gaius raised his own eyebrow, that single eyebrow raised that was filled with doubt. It was the same incredulous expression Merlin received on many occasion. It required no words because it spoke volumes by itself.
Lips pursing, Merlin nodded and was already heading back out of the door. "You're right, of course you're right. Arthur and trouble go hand in hand."
It was the commotion, the raised voices, which drew Merlin to the training field when he passed nearby. He did have every intention of returning to Arthur's room to find the prince there but as a familiar laughter found his ears, he knew it would have been a waste of time. Arthur would no longer be there because, as Gaius had warned, the prattish prince had found mischief.
"Come on, Sir Bedivere," that familiar prattish voice called out, arrogant and lofty, "a knight of Camelot should be faster than that."
Merlin turned the corner and came out onto the training field. Several knights were there, practising their swordsmanship, and off to the side stood Arthur, sword in hand. He was mere feet away from Sir Bedivere, swinging his sword in a lazy arc before swooping in and tapping Bedivere's chainmail. The knight reacted instantly, spinning on the spot and lashing out with his own sword, hitting nothing but thin air. It became apparent to Merlin as he drew closer, that the knight could neither see nor hear Arthur.
"As much fun as it is to see that I'm not the only one to receive your abuse, is it really appropriate to taunt the knights in such a way?" Merlin asked beneath his breath, coming to a stop beside Arthur.
"Abuse? Merlin, this is training," Arthur answered, using the tip of his sword to motion all the knights on the field as he continued on. "These knights, the knights of Camelot, are the best in all the land and that is because a knight must be prepared for any situation."
"Such as being prodded by an invisible prince?" Merlin supplied, lips thinned into an impish smile.
"Yes, such as..." Arthur started, before backtracking and turning to glare and Merlin. "Being as you are not a knight, Merlin, you do not understand the perils of battle."
"Nope, of course not," Merlin answered, the impish smile remaining in place as he shook his head lightly.
"There are times when a knight will be forced to go up against a foe they cannot see or hear. They must be prepared for that."
"And you couldn't just use a blindfold?"
"And where, Merlin," Arthur continued, gaining his own smile as he wandered out onto the field with the sword, "is the fun in that?"
Merlin narrowed his eyes, looking around and taking in the knights and their obliviousness to the actions of Arthur. It was only when Sir Leon came up to the table, his arms widening in confusion, that Merlin truly began to wonder.
"Has anyone seen my sword?" Leon called out, looking to the other knights before once more looking at the table, lowering himself to search beneath it as well. "It was just here!"
Merlin looked to Arthur, watching him with the sword. Was that an effect of the spell? That it wasn't just Arthur that no one could see but objects he held? Of course, it would explain why no one had complained about clothes floating around the castle halls by themselves and why no one was pointing out that Sir Leon's sword was also floating in midair, in the middle of the field, as if by magic. And of course, no one thought to mention to one of the older, more severe knights, Sir Henry if Merlin remembered right, that said sword was about to prod him in the back.
Merlin moved swiftly forward, dancing between the knights to reach Arthur before he could do what he was so obviously about to do. The tip of the sword was mere inches away from the knight's back and Merlin was just several seconds too slow. Not quick enough to avert what was coming but not slow enough to be far enough away so as not to get the blame, because as it was, he did get the blame. After all, it was his hand on the sword he had wrestled from Arthur and Arthur, even if he had been visible, would not have gotten the blame.
The knight swung around, ready to strike, and Merlin ducked as the blade slashed through the air. When he rose, it was to meet the glare of Sir Henry.
"You're quicker than you look, Merlin," Arthur taunted from beside him.
A sheepish and somewhat tight smile tugged at Merlin's lips and he slowly backed away from the knight. "You might not believe me, but that was an accident," he pushed out, his eyes never leaving the knight's as he took in the unsaid promise that next time, Sir Henry would not miss. When he was far enough away, he managed to tear his eyes away and turn around.
"Keep up the good work, I'm sure Prince Arthur will be impressed," he shot over his shoulder, hurrying away from the field to discard the sword on the table where Sir Leon snatched it up with a suspicious glance to Merlin.
Merlin ignored the glance and instead grabbed Arthur's arm to all but drag the prince along with him back toward the castle. He didn't leave go until they had reached an empty corridor. The whole time, Arthur wriggled and glared at Merlin and muttered under his breath something about servants manhandling their masters, but considering the trouble Arthur had caused Merlin the previous day and the trouble he had yet to cause, Merlin thought he had just cause.
"You are aware, aren't you, Merlin," Arthur asked when he was finally free of Merlin's grip. He came to a stop to look over Merlin with a raised eyebrow, "that I could have you put in the stocks for that?"
"But then who would clean your socks?"
"I'm sure I could live without clean socks for one day."
Merlin scoffed and shook his head. "You might be able to but I'm not sure the rest of the castle could stand the stench."
"Are you implying that I smell, Merlin?"
"I'm not implying anything."
Arthur opened his mouth to argue, then closed it again before seemingly deciding on the words he wanted to say. "You just said my socks smell!"
Lips twisting a little, Merlin offered up a shrug. "Well they do."
"Merlin," Arthur drawled out, a warning lining the name.
"Yes Arthur?" Merlin asked brightly in return.
"Just because I am invisible does not mean I cannot make your life hell."
"Oh, I think you've already proved that one." Merlin spun on his heel, moving off down the corridor once more and leaving Arthur to trail behind.
"Merlin," the prince called after him, a touch of outrage to his tone, "I'm not done with you yet!"
"You are if you want your socks cleaning."
And to that, Arthur didn't reply. It left Merlin with a small sense of triumph, the smile on his face spreading even further as Arthur grumbled on behind him, following him on his way.
The skies over Camelot were dark once more when Morgana sat in the main hall, toying with the food in front of her. She listened idly to the talk of Uther and Lord Kenward, her mind on other things, on Arthur's disappearing act. It was unusual for him to do such a thing during the visit of a Lord. His place was to be in the centre of attention, impressing guests with his looks and skills. Yet this time was different, and it made Morgana uneasy.
"And where is the young prince?" Lord Kenward questioned. "He's not avoiding us now, is he?"
Morgana raised her eyes to consider both Uther and Kenward.
Uther laughed, a rare smile gracing his lips as he finished off his mouthful of food with a swig of wine before answering. "Of course not, my old friend. He's hunting, in your honour of course."
"For shame! He should have taken young Alaric with him. Right, my boy?" Kenward continued on, patting his son on the back much to the displeasure of the young boy who offered a tight smile in return. "He's not one for hunting but it would have done him good to learn from one such as young Prince Arthur."
"I don't see what's so great about being able to kill a living animal," Alaric muttered beneath his breath, earning a warning glare from his father.
Morgana smiled to the young boy and nodded. "Nor do I," she offered, and the tension dropped a little from Alaric's shoulders.
"But m'lady," Kenward beamed to her, "what would we eat?"
"Of course, Lord Kenward, to hunt for food is necessary," she answered, "but some would turn it into a sport."
Kenward laughed heartily and nodded. "You have strong views, m'lady. I can tell it would be hard to sway you in any direction you would not wish to go. And with beauty to match, I can see Uther has his hands full."
"Not at all, not at all," Uther disagreed, smile still in place as he motioned for a nearby servant to supply more wine.
Morgana placed a hand over her glass and shook her head gracefully. "You will have to accept my apologies. I'm afraid I'm feeling rather tired tonight." She inclined her head and pushed up from her seat. "If you excuse me."
Each stood as she left the table and did not retake their seats until she had reached the doors. She looked back to the guests, that uneasy feeling still playing on her mind. Was Arthur truly out hunting? And if he was, shouldn't he have been back?
It was some time after the feast, after Merlin had brought Arthur food from the kitchen's and was on with clearing it up, that Arthur let go of a lengthy sigh. Arm resting above his head, against the wall, he gazed out of the window of his room and down onto the grounds. It would make it the second night that he had missed dining with Morgana and his father, along with their guests.
"The king keeps asking when you're due to return," Merlin informed him, tone sober, softer. He knew the heavy weight that came with those words.
"Strange, isn't it?" Arthur murmured in return, voice equally as sober, gaze lost to the flickering lights in the courtyard, "How my father is more aware of me when I'm absent than when I'm around..."
"That's not true," Merlin started, but Arthur cut him off with a shake of his head as he turned away from the window and returned to his seat at the table.
"One day I will inherit this kingdom from my father and I have a long way to go yet before I'll be ready for that day... before I can meet his expectations and prove myself to him."
Here Merlin shook his head, stopping in his movements, and his eyes took on that sheen they did when he was being overly passionate or girly about something. "You will make a great king. The people already respect you, the knights follow your every command. If Uther can't see that then... then he's blind."
"He is my father, Merlin, and the king of Camelot."
"And that means his opinion matters more than anyone else's?"
Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Yes."
Before Merlin could argue though, a gentle knock broke into their conversation and both their gazes were drawn to the door as it opened slowly. Morgana's head poked in around the side, a frown creasing her features, brow burrowed in the centre just ever so slightly.
"Arthur?" she questioned, her voice just as unsure as her eyes, her gaze roaming the room briefly before landing on Merlin. "I'm sorry, I was sure I heard Arthur..."
Arthur pushed up from his chair, his hands flat against the table. "Yes, Morgana, you did – I'm right here."
And for one moment, her eyes moved to him. For one moment, he was sure she saw him. But she shook her head, the frown remaining in place.
"Please, carry on," she instructed Merlin, a small smile playing on her lips, hesitant and uncertain. "I'm obviously just going mad, cooped up in the castle all day."
She turned to leave and Arthur rounded the table, his body tensing. "Morgana!"
Once more she turned to look into the room, her gaze looking right through Arthur and straight to Merlin. "Yes?" she questioned.
"She can't see me..." Arthur breathed out, sinking back against the table, his gaze falling to the floor.
Merlin cleared his throat and took a step forward, coming to stand beside Arthur. "I'll tell Arthur you were here."
Morgana nodded, offering another smile. "Thank you, Merlin."
That time when she turned to leave, Arthur didn't call out to her again and she didn't turn back. He let her leave. An irritated growl started at the base of his throat and ended as a frustrated huff on the air as he pushed away from the table and began to pace on the floor in front of it.
"How long am I to be stuck like this?" he asked, the question aimed at no one. After all, the only other person there was Merlin and Arthur sincerely doubted he would know the answer.
"It could be worse," Merlin replied, "at least I can see you."
Arthur stopped in his pacing long enough to look to Merlin, head lowered slightly and eyes locked on Merlin. "And how does that make things better?"
Merlin's lips thinned, his eyebrows rising. "Well, if that's how you feel," he murmured, but there was a hint of teasing, a trace of playfulness, to his tone and eyes.
"You're right, Merlin, of course," Arthur offered up, mouth twisting into a smile, his eyes lighting up with mischief and taunting, "because the last thing I need right now is a servant slacking off in some place, like say – the tavern? But seeing as you're here and not there, you can make use of yourself and polish my boots. There's a hole in the left one so you can fix that too while you're at it. And when you're done with that, you can sort through my formal wear and finally get around to cleaning them."
Merlin turned away, his gaze dancing about the room, a soft hum starting beneath his breath as he played ignorant.
"Merlin," Arthur growled out, folding his arms across his chest and raising a challenging eyebrow at the manservant.
Merlin looked back to him, feigning innocence as he grinned in that idiotic way of his. "I'm sorry, did you say something?"
"And just for that, you get to clean my socks again. I know how much you enjoy that."
Thanks for reading!