We know. We know. We've sinned. It's been forever since the last update. Excuse list: Homework, tests, MARRIAGE, honeymoon, left for family beach trip immediately upon writing partner coming home from honeymoon, more homework, finals, remedying us and others from going through Doctor Who withdrawals, etc. (We know that last excuse is pathetic, but our brothers are very persuasive. We only watch the episodes as a group. See the problem?)
*RECAP!* Merlin aged himself and cut his hair. He followed the disturbance in the force. (You had to make a Star Wars reference, didn't you? Yep!) He found a camp full of plotting sorcerers. Apparently, Darby (one of the sorcerers) stole one of Arthur's shirts and returned it. Then Merlin came back. He discovered that the aging antidote wouldn't do its job. Therefore, Arthur must also be old. Gwaine was trying get Arthur out of his room when Merlin showed up to half-explain the situation. Arthur has just opened his door.
If you need anymore details, ask or reread.
Gwaine's eyes narrowed as he lifted his sword higher again. "What the bloody h- is going on?"
Instead of answering the question Arthur gave an order, "Get in here."
Both Gwaine and Merlin marched into Arthur's chambers. Once they were all in, Arthur pulled out his key and locked the door again. He turned toward the other two men and squinted.
"Merlin, is it my old age or do you look strangely like Dragoon?" Arthur remarked.
"It's your old age," Merlin replied, trying not betray any internal panic. "I can't see much of anything myself." He grinned nervously.
A flicker of confusion passed briefly over Arthur's face. "Did you get attacked?"
"Ah... No."
"Then how do you explain this?"
"Gaius thinks it's a side affect of the enchantment." Then Merlin added to the lie, "And he thinks it might happen again."
"What enchantment?" Gwaine demanded. "What's going on?"
Merlin and Arthur quickly explained how they were being forced to experience each other's physical discomfort.
"So you're saying that if I do this..." Gwaine poked Merlin in the ribs.
"Ouch." Merlin protested. Arthur shifted slightly and rolled his eyes.
"Arthur feels it," Gwaine said.
"Yes, Gwaine, that is exactly what we're saying," Arthur said irately. "And if you jab me Merlin will get the pleasure your prodding."
Before Gwaine could reply a knock on the door sounded.
"Who is it?" Arthur called.
"Gaius, my lord," Gaius's voice called from behind the door.
Arthur unlocked and opened the door. The old physician entered the chambers.
"Sire, I can make a cure but it will take time," Gaius informed.
"How much time, exactly?" Arthur asked tersely.
"I could have it ready by morning, sire."
"I told Arthur what you told me," Merlin remarked, trying to sound casual.
"Sorry?" Gaius replied, giving Merlin a reproachful look.
"About how this could happen again... Without warning."
"Is that true?" Arthur asked.
Gaius arched his eyebrow at Merlin. "I'm afraid so," Gaius said tersely.
Merlin and Gaius went back to their chambers. Over dinner Merlin began talking about the sorcerers he had found.
"Do you remember when I lost one of Arthur's shirts? I don't think I lost it," Merlin said. "I think it was stolen and then returned." He told Gaius what Darby had said in the sorcerers' camp.
"You think they put a spell on Arthur's shirt," Gaius said leaning in.
Merlin nodded.
"Do you know which shirt it was?" Gaius asked furtively.
"I— know what color it is."
The next morning Gaius had the potion ready. As soon as they were young again Arthur rearranged the babysitting situation. Merlin was beginning to regret making Arthur think that they could spontaneously grow old at any moment. Arthur was tightening security for both of them. Arthur was going to keep public appearances to a minimum, but not to the point of creating alarm. He even stooped to giving himself a babysitter. In doing so, Arthur had felt compelled to let more knights in on their predicament, namely Leon, Lancelot, Elyan, and Percival. Merlin didn't mind that. What Merlin did mind was Arthur's creative capacity to impose even more restricting precautions on him for his "own good."
"Arthur, this is madness. It's blazing hot. I will not wear a cloak when going—anywhere," Merlin complained.
"Be reasonable, Merlin. If you turn into an old man in front of someone they might think you're a sorcerer," Arthur countered.
"We could do what you plan to do. Both me and my babysitter could get outraged and yell something about sorcerers."
"So you agree to stay with your 'babysitter' from now on?"
Merlin almost said that he didn't mean that. He glared in annoyance. There was no escape. "Yes," Merlin lied. Half-lied more like. He would be good during chore time. Anything to avoid wearing a cloak during the blazing heat of the day.
Arthur couldn't just wait around for Gaius to find something. So he asked various persons what they knew about detecting curses and enchantments, and possibly undoing them. He dismissed many of the theories as preposterous. As preposterous as they were, they were harmless—for the most part. Some Arthur would not be doing under any circumstances. There was no way that anyone would persuade him that clutching a fist full of bezoars while running naked through the forest during a full moon was a good idea. What he could stoop to was climbing under his bed and looking for suspicious carvings.
Arthur looked about his chambers. Merlin was no where to be seen. Good. He wouldn't have to explain himself. Well, he didn't have to explain himself to Merlin anyway. Arthur slid himself under the bed.
The underside of his bed was fairly unexciting. The only thing under there was his chest filled with gold. As Arthur was about to crawl out his door opened. Merlin walked in. Arthur really didn't want to asked why he was under his bed. Maybe he could wait until Merlin left. Of course that might take a while...
But judging from the way Merlin was walking he was in a hurry.
Arthur rolled onto his stomach. He bit back a grunt. It had hurt his arm to do it.
Merlin yelped in surprise, stopping him in mid stride. "What did he do this time?" He muttered to himself.
Arthur watched from under the bed as Merlin resolutely went to the wardrobe. Arthur's brows furrowed as Merlin began to pull out clean shirts for no conceivable reason. Merlin was up to something crazy. Compromising position or not, Arthur had to put a stop to this. He pulled himself out from under the bed just as Merlin started to scurry away.
"What. Are. You. Doing?" Arthur demanded after he stood.
Merlin spun around, looking panicked. "I thought they might be dirty," he replied too quickly.
"If they're dirty then what were they doing in there?" Arthur indicated to the wardrobe.
"I think I missed some spots?"
"Are you calling me messy?"
"No," Merlin denied unconvincingly. "I'm just saying that—it doesn't hurt to check them. Just in case."
"Ah," Arthur said. "There's no reason you can't check them here. By all means, don't let me stop you."
"Well, the thing is— I thought it would be best if I did it back with Gaius."
"Is Gaius doing laundry now?"
"No!" Merlin tumbled over his words, "I just thought it would be better if I examined them in Gaius's chambers."
"Where any small accident could mean you've ruined my shirts?"
"The lighting is better in there." Merlin tried to walk off.
"Merlin," Arthur said sharply. He was not going to let Merlin off with his usual pathetic lies. Not this time.
Merlin turned back to face Arthur. A wince was creased into the servant's face. "Yes?"
Arthur walked over to his servant, pulled the shirts out of Merlin's hands, and plopped the clothing onto the table. "Sit," he ordered.
Merlin sat down slowly, eying Arthur warily.
"Now check."
Merlin reached out to grab the shirts. Then he withdrew and looked up. "Arthur, how come I didn't see you when I came in?" He asked.
"Well, you don't see much of anything, do you?"
Merlin stared at Arthur for moment before a look of dawning came over the servant's face. "You were under the bed!"
"Why on Earth would I be under the bed?"
"I dunno. You tell me."
"I wasn't under the bed." Arthur would happily take his secret to the grave.
"What were you doing under there?"
"That's none of your business," Arthur slipped.
Merlin's eyes lit up. "I was right. You were under the bed. The question is what is the high and mighty Prince Arthur doing under his bed?"
"Merlin, make sure these shirts are clean. Now."
"Arthur, it really would be better if I just take them to—"
Arthur glowered at Merlin. "If you don't tell me why you're so eager to get out of here with my clothes, you'll be checking all of my shirts and pants for signs of your incompetence."
Merlin's jaw twitched in exasperation. "Gaius was wondering if maybe one of the shirts were used as a, um, vessel for the enchantment."
Finally, a straight answer. "He's checking them by color?" Arthur had noticed that all of them were red.
"Ah, ha, no," Merlin laughed nervously. "I mean, yes. He says that some spells are more sensitive to different colors."
Seeing that Arthur was too stunned to speak, Merlin grabbed the shirts and headed off. Arthur was left staring after his lying servant.
Throughout the shirt examination process Merlin couldn't get himself to do anything but stare uselessly and impatiently. Occasionally when Gaius took a thoughtful pause Merlin would ask, "Anything?"
After sufficiently staring at another shirt, Gaius brought it to his nose. That seemed to be standard procedure. Stare then sniff. This time Gaius stopped to take an extra sniff. A look of recognition of something more than just soap crossed his face.
Merlin, who had been leaning against the table, sat up straighter. "What is it?" He asked eagerly.
"I think I know what it is."
Gaius, shirt in hand, strode to a nearby book. As he flipped to the right page Merlin moved to stand by him.
When he stopped turning pages, Gaius lowered the book. "When you wash Arthur's clothes, you don't happen to use..." Gaius listed off several miscellaneous items. Some of which Merlin had never even heard of.
"No."
Gaius handed the open book to Merlin.
"Oh, no," Merlin grumbled.
Aaaaaaand... Not making any promises. Except that we'll try. There is a Star Wars quote about that. Don't say it, my padawan.