You know what I don't like? Those entire afternoons dedicated solely to homework. You know, 3 o'clock to 9 o'clock? Not because you've been procrastinating and are paying the penalty, just...one of those days...

-.-


~8~ An Unfavourable Truth

Merlin, breathing heavily after his sprint back to Camelot, would say nothing until only Gaius and Arthur were in the room, for reasons he would not reveal. Disgruntled, the others left as Arthur ordered them out, even Gwen, even though she avidly insisted on remaining to hear what had occurred that morning with the servant.

"All right. What happened?" The king leaned against the table, arms crossed, a frown of consternation dominating his features. He ignored the bloodstains on the others' neckerchief, which had been raised to hide the cut on the servant's throat. At least, he tried to.

Suddenly, Merlin looked really awkward. He shifted from foot to foot, unsure of how to proceed. After a few false starts, he began with when he had found the note from Gaius that Gaius had never written, then made his way to the Southern District, and from there, Gregory's Grove, where he was ambushed and nearly killed.

"Wait, you said you went on foot?" Arthur interrupted, holding up his hands. "How did you get there and back so fast?"

Merlin paused as he considered his answer. "...I ran. And I sprinted back."

"...Sprinted."

"Aye...That brings me to the...other part..." The servant wrung his hands. "When I overcame my attacker, I forced information from him—" He ignored the disbelieving smirk Arthur gave him. "—And he told me something about an order of Silverbloods."

A new expression now took Gaius, but he said nothing.

"They're werewolf hunters," Merlin continued, suddenly refusing to meet Arthur's gaze. The king shrugged.

"So? What has that got to do with us?" But somewhere, deep within him, he already knew the answer.

The servant was biting his lip. He sat down in the nearest chair and stared at his hands. "There is a reason why I could hold my own yesterday while sparring with you, Arthur, and why we both managed to go for so long without having to slow or rest." Merlin must have seen the flicker of apprehension the split second he met his gaze. "We've been infected."

Had the king not suspected something like this, he would have either laughed at Merlin, scoffed him mercilessly, or had him examined for insanity. As it was, he put his knuckles to his mouth, head bowed, and said nothing for nearly two minutes. The others remained silent, and an air of restlessness filled the room. Then Arthur looked to Gaius.

"You knew this."

The aged physician shook his head. "I have been researching in the archives for the past week. I only found out after dawn today what has happened to you, though I had been hoping for otherwise. You are indeed infected by the beast." His mouth was a grim line. "And I fear that your first turn will come sooner than late."

Despair spread through his chest, the emotion might as well being fatal internal bleeding for what his fate had now become. "So that's it, then." Arthur pushed himself away from the table and wandered to the window, keeping his face an unreadable mask.

"Arthur—"

"I know what you're going to say, Merlin, but it's too dangerous having me around, now. If I turn, I will kill people. There is nothing that can be done."

"Arthur, you aren't the only one—"

"Well, you can make your own decision. If you think you can stand murdering those you love and care for, then it's your choice. I—"

"Damn it, Arthur! There's a cure!" Merlin roared, and the king turned in bewilderment. The servant hardly ever yelled, not if he knew what's good for him. Then he registered what he had said and felt hope slow the reaching tendrils of dread that crept towards his heart.

"A cure?"

Merlin glanced once at Gaius, and then shifted uncomfortably. "Well, sort of."

Arthur scowled, growing impatient. "Sort of? What does that mean?"

Gaius now took a step forward. "The Silverbloods had claimed to have found a cure of some kind for the werewolf curse a hundred years ago. It had long since been recorded and written in old books, but the one we have has been...stolen."

Now Merlin was watching the physician in shock. "Stolen? You mean torn out?"

Gaius nodded. "Long ago."

"Then how do you know?" demanded Arthur of Merlin, glaring as though he were responsible for the missing cure.

"The man who attempted to kill me tried to say there wasn't one, but I could tell he was lying."

Grumbling in frustration, Arthur paced the room. "Why aren't things ever easy?"

"I've been asking myself that for the past few years," said Gaius stiffly, glancing once at his ward.

The king stopped. "Have you checked every book and scroll in the archives?"

"No. It certainly feels like it, though. I shall continue searching for a cure, sire. I'm not sure if we have something so rare in two books, but I will try."

"I'll help," Merlin said immediately, unfazed by such a monotonous task. Arthur smiled for the first time that day.

"I assure you, of help you will not lack." Then the king's expression became thoughtful. "We must keep this a secret unless there is no alternative but to..." He made a slicing motion across his own throat, and humorously ignored the look of horror that flashed across Merlin's face.

BAM!

"I KNEW IT!"

Arthur nearly drew his sword and Merlin sprang to his feet as both doors to the king's chambers burst open and smashed into either wall, as though someone had charged into them with a great battering ram. But it was only Gwaine.

Arthur's shoulders slumped in exasperation as Merlin looked embarrassed at his fright.

"Knew what, Gwaine?" Arthur growled as the knight lowered his arms, raised from shoving the doors open like he meant business.

A puzzled yet thoughtful expression overcame Gwaine's features. "Um, I don't know. It just seemed like the most appropriate thing to say at the time."

"Blundering goon," Leon grumbled, elbowing past the other knight and into the room. Percival and Elyan were not far behind, and both were grim after their eavesdropping. "Sire, is it true? That you've been...That you are..."

The king glanced at Merlin, as if seeking council, but the servant betrayed no emotion. Chewing his lip, Arthur chose his next words carefully, and found that they were few. "It's true. Merlin and I—"

"Are engaged!"

"What? No!"

Gwaine grinned as the others cast him an estranged looks.

"Why are you so weird all of a sudden?" Leon demanded. Then he shook his head. "So that beast, the Blackhands' beast, is a..." He seemed hesitant to say it. "Werewolf?"

Arthur nodded, and Merlin muttered softly, "Inescapably."

Percival shook his head in frustrated despair, while Elyan pushed a chair a few inches across the floor as though its previous position had disturbed him.

"So, what do we do?" asked Leon, like he was expecting the answer to spring in through the open window. It didn't.


"Do not be too eager to deal out death in judgement. Even the very wise cannot see all ends." ~ Gandalf the Grey (The Lord of the Rings)