'Ello, chaps! We know, we're horrible people who can't be consistent about updates. We hope you're still enjoying the story though!
If the item could be relocated to the opposite side of his chambers, Arthur relocated it there. He couldn't understand it. One minute he had been eating breakfast, and then the next minute everything had gone horribly wrong. Another bite of food had been on its way to his mouth when everything started smelling completely foul. His ears had hurt when he dropped his food in shock. The whole situation was a nightmare. Every smell churned his stomach, and every sound seemed to thrash his head. It seemed like hours since he had sent Merlin away. Arthur had been able to smell his servant's odor from across the room. As he had sent Merlin out, Arthur had called off "the babysitters." The prince didn't think that he would be able to handle side effects of their presence, indirectly or not. The way they clanked and stank was just too much. Even with a door acting as a barrier.
Now Arthur was standing shirtless, trying very hard not to curl up in a ball. His head ached more every time the guards passed his chambers. It took all of Arthur's will not to call those guards off duty too. No one had the right be so loud or smelly for that matter. His own heart was being loud enough without their contribution to the din. And the people who were approaching were being fairly inconsiderate as well. At least they weren't clanking, but Arthur wished they would go walk somewhere else. He could hear one of them moaning all the way through the corridor. If Arthur didn't know better he would've been convinced that the moaning voice was Merlin's. It was irritating.
Arthur blanched and suddenly bent over in pain as a loud rap sounded from his door.
"What are you doing, Gaius?" Merlin's voice hissed. The loud scrape of the door rang through the room and in Arthur's head.
Arthur moaned, "Merlin, what are you doing back? I thought I told you to get out."
"Sire," Gaius cut in, "I have a remedy for your—affliction."
Arthur perked up slightly, "Which one?"
"The noises and the—bad smells," Gaius replied, sounding slightly cautious. He handed Arthur and Merlin each an identical vial of something that looked and smelled quite vile. "I'm going to need you both to drink it at the same time."
"Why?" Merlin and Arthur asked in unison. They were thinking the same thing. That stuff smelled putrid. Trying to drink it would certainly make them gag. One rebelling stomach would be bad enough. How would they manage the sensation of two lurching bellies?
"There is a small chance that, if you don't take it at the same time, it won't work," Gaius replied reasonably. "Obviously, if you want to take it one at a time, that's fine. But it just... Might not work."
Arthur and Merlin looked at each other. "We're going to take at the same time," Arthur said commandingly. "You better keep that stuff down." He was glaring at Merlin.
"Likewise," Merlin replied defensively. He breathed deeply. "On the count of three," Merlin suggested. "One, two..." Merlin swallowed, trying to ease the nausea before calling last number. "Three."
Arthur and Merlin plugged their noses and tipped the potion into their mouths. They gagged several times before finally downing the bottles' contents.
"I don't feel much different," Merlin complained after they had gotten that nasty potion down their gullets. "Though I do feel light headed. Arthur do you feel light headed?"
Arthur's eyebrows drew together. Did Merlin really just ask such a stupid question? Of course he felt light headed. "You..." Being light headed was getting the way of expressing annoyance to that idiot. Idiot? That would work. Why hadn't he thought of it earlier? "Idiot!"
"Sire," Gaius interrupted, "I think you need to rest." Gaius grabbed Merlin's arm and led the servant out.
After they left, Arthur walked tentatively to his smelly bed. It didn't stink as much as it used to, but it was still unpleasant. He sank onto the bed. Slowly, the bad smells and sounds were abating. Finally, sleep overtook him.
After being lead to his room by Gaius, Merlin dozed a little. As he drifted in and out of consciousness something occurred to him. Arthur had called off the unwanted babysitters. Merlin's eyes popped open. He could sneak out. With any luck, it wouldn't occur to Arthur that he had left Merlin a window of opportunity. He needed to investigate the magic that was still pulsating through Camelot. First, he needed to make sure that Arhtur hadn't reassigned the knights to keep an eye on him. Second, he needed to disguise himself. It wouldn't do if he never made it out of the citadel. Or miss a chance to wheedle out information because his assailants attacked him again. He'd rather not get spotted at all, but perhaps if he was eighty years old that wouldn't matter. Of course he'd have to shave off the beard and crop that hair that would most certainly come as a result of the spell. That was unless he wanted to set the warning bells off and lead every knight in Camelot on a merry chase. He really didn't have time for that.
Merlin, now an eighty year-old man, hobbled through the forest. His hair was unevenly cut short, as was his beard. He knew the uneven hair and stubble looked silly, but he didn't care. Looks obviously weren't first priority anyway if was choosing to be old. The point was to be disguised. Besides, he didn't even intend on being seen. He had donned a cloak just in case anyone would still recognize him as "Dragoon."
The magic pulsed harder and stronger. His whole body vibrated, tingled, and itched. All of it was more concentrated in the front of his body, in the direction he was going. He was getting close.
Merlin treaded as lightly as he could because there were probably unfriendly sorcerers around. Being seen first, before he got a glimpse of the enemy, would dangerous. Probably fatal. Were he younger, he would have had a grace that all his friends would have considered uncharacteristic. But now, as an old man, his body complained. It refused to be quite as helpful. Every step rustled too loudly, as if the creaking bones weren't enough.
He heard voices. Merlin crouched down. He began to move carefully from one foliage cover to the next until he saw a small group of people. In the midst of them was an amphora that almost reached the height of the woman who standing over it. Whatever spell was causing the disturbance was coming from that earthenware.
Suddenly, flames burst into life a few yards to the right of the amphora.
"Showing off again, aren't you, Darby?" An unnaturally pale woman said.
The man, Darby, who had started the fire had his back to Merlin. "By the gods, Ruby," he flared, "I was just starting a fire!"
"Oh, but you had to be all showy about it," Ruby persisted. "You're just after," her voice turned to a loud whisper, "attention."
"What attention could I possibly be after?"
"Oh, you know what," Ruby spat.
Merlin pulled his eyes away from the squabblers to look at their companions. The woman by the large pot stared exasperatedly at the quarrel. Another man simply ignored the ridiculous argument and nailed boards onto a large, incomplete crate. Even from a distance Merlin could see focus lines creasing into the man's face.
"Fine!" Darby threw his hands exaggeratedly high into the air. "Fine, I thought you wanted a hot meal. I'm sorry, let me fix my mistake." He waved his hand in front of him while shouting an incantation. The fire disappeared, leaving half-charred logs.
Ruby laughed forcefully, "I'm not stupid. You now want to play the victim, but still show off at the same time."
"There's no one watching. Why should I not use the gift I have?"
The other woman stepped into the fray. "That's enough!" She shouted. "The next person who speaks gets to spend the rest of their life in the pot."
Ruby glared at the woman and Darby in turn before huffing and walking off. The woman inclined her head to Darby and returned to the amphora. Darby then restarted the fire.
"Hello," a voice sounded from behind the spy.
Merlin reflexively turned around. He stared up a short sword and into the face of a woman. She had strikingly blonde hair and a scar that extended from her mouth to her hairline. Her cheek had to have been ripped open and sewn back together.
"It's seems as though you've lived too long, old man," she said in a frighteningly calm manner.
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