Things Merlin Isn't Allowed To Do (According to Prince Arthur)
15: Ever Touch/Smell/Drink Wine Or Any Other Alcoholic Beverages

Merlin is a terrible lightweight. Arthur's always known that, but if he'd known just how terrible Merlin is at holding his liquor, he never would have let the warlock come with him to the tavern.

It's a great occasion, of course, for the prince to come to the tavern. The knights come here at their weekly outings and Gwaine more often than that, but last Arthur was here it was when trying to find a wayward manservant (who wasn't there but had snuck out of the city to talk with that bothersome dragon again) three-something months ago. The tavern owner is naturally delighted with the royal guest and gives the knightly company cup after bottle after barrel of whatever they wish, since they have no problems with paying. Without hesitation, the prince orders the finest wine for them all, including Merlin who's probably never tasted anything like it.

They're celebrating the latest victory in war: well, Prince Arthur's victory, since king Uther managed to come to an agreement with the other king and they settled on a one-on-one duel instead of a full-scaled battle, and Arthur was chosen as Camelot's champion and had to face down some kind of growling giant. He won of course, since he's The Best Warrior Ever of Camelot™, and the knights had then convinced him to join them in the tavern, so that the citizens might personally congratulate him. It's a wonderful idea.

Well, until Merlin tags along – Merlin follows him everywhere, so why shouldn't he come with him to the tavern?

The trouble starts not with the wine but with the hiccoughs. Well, maybe with the wine since it's the cause of the hiccoughs. So it's the wine's fault. Merlin has no idea what his limit is, so he drinks and laughs and sings (over and over because sir Gareth pats his back beginning him to start a new song, and Arthur doesn't seem to like that and Merlin likes to annoy him), and somehow he get all dizzy and giddy and happy and don't mind Arthur's hand on his side to steady him, and then he hiccoughs.

Magic swirls up before he can stop it, buzzing through his veins and his eyes glow golden, it feels like someone is hooking his bellybutton and pulls, and Merlin claps his hands over his mouth with a gasp.

"MERLIN!" Arthur is suddenly yelling at him, leaning in close in a threatening way. "What the hell did you do?"

"Err." He tries to look innocent like a cute lost little bunny. It's probably not working very well, judging by the prince's reaction. "I … I don't know…Um, sorry...?"

A long, wide street opens up before them. The pavement itself is made of a strange unfamiliar material, not quite like rock. There are lots and lots of people, all dressed in the strangest things, hurrying past them, like they're incredibly stressed. Some of them are talking into little boxes and there are carriages moving quickly – faster than any horse Arthur has seen – up and down the street without being pulled by any animal. And the sounds! Noise and voices and low humming and some kind of unnatural music, everywhere. The buildings are a mixed variety of some normal looking stonework and some very, very tall things in metal and glass. It's incredibly overwhelming and they stumble backwards into someone who gives them an angry glare.

Arthur reacts like any startled warrior would and whips out his sword – he might have been on a tavern outing, but no wise man goes outside his chamber without his sword. The person they walked into is already gone. A bright green light (formed, oddly enough, like a walking man) on a black post right before them turns red, and the activity pauses momentarily on the side of the street that they're on, people crowding near the edge impatiently.

Merlin looks around equally confused but also incredibly fascinated, and he points and exclaims obvious stupid things like "Oh, look! No horses!" and "There must be giants in this city for the houses to be so big." and "Look, Arthur! In that window! There's a box with people trapped in it!" and "I'm a little dizzy, I don't think I feel so well." and leans quite heavily on the prince.

"What's this place?" Arthur wonders aloud. Then realization hits him. All things are moving almost like on automatic here, there are so many blinking colourful lights, not to mention how odd looking everyone is. This must be a city of sorcerers. How to tell if they're good or mean them harm? Unconsciously he pulls the drunken Merlin a bit closer.

People are starting to notice them now, turning heads. One of them closes in and says, "Nice costume, mate, very realistic," in a tone that Arthur suspects is mocking, and asks what show he's 'advertising' – the prince has an urge to challenge the man to a swordfight, but isn't sure if he should seeing the man carries no weapon, not even a dagger. Then a girl with pink! hair (This really is a town of sorcerers, Arthur thinks) pulls out a strange black object from a bag, turns to them with the thing in front of her face and does something, because there's a clicking noise and a white flash of light and Arthur jumps backwards. "What's that?" he demands in his best authoritative I'm Prince Arthur And You'll Do As I Say-voice. "What did you do?"

The girl grins wide and chews on something pink, making a bubble, and she giggles and starts talking. She might be dangerous, so the prince keeps his distance, pulling Merlin securely behind him (the warlock is still blinking dazedly from the strange flash of light). "You two look so cute together!" she squeals, "Can I have your names? Your costume looks really cool, just like out of a movie!"

Arthur has no idea what a movie is and it's getting on his nerves that people assume he's dressed up like some stupid clown and no one seems to take him seriously. Have these people no respect for knights and soldiers, those who keep their lands safe? "I am Prince Arthur of Camelot, this is my manservant Merlin and I demand you to tell us where we are!"

"Oh, you're an actor? That's so cool!" she exclaims excitedly. "Can I have your autograph? That'd be, like, awesome!"

The strange girl is too close for comfort now and Arthur grips his sword tighter, thinking what a weird dangerous place this is, hoping the girl isn't a sorceress who'll turn him into something unnatural if he says no, and then Merlin hiccoughs.

The street disappears in a swirl.

()()()

Suddenly, they're standing in the middle of a corridor. It's spacious and wide and doesn't look like any corridor in Camelot's castle, or any other castle where Arthur or Merlin has been before. It's beautifully decorated with lots and lots of colourful, moving paintings and at the end there's a stair which now and then moves, causing the horde of black-cloaked young people to groan in annoyance.

And then Arthur realizes with a start that the paintings are moving and from one, portraying a group of men in armour playing a dice gaming while sitting around a suspiciously familiar looking table, a cheery (also kind of frighteningly familiar) voice reaches his ears. "Oi, you there! I'ven't seen you for some thousand years! You haven't changed a bit, princess. Want to join? There's ale!"

The prince steps away from the strange painting with a bewildered look on his face. What's this? How can the colour on the canvas move and talk? What enchantment ...? He freezes up suddenly, remembering the snakes on Valiant's shield. This can't be good. This must be very, very bad.

A group of these strange youths stop to look at the prince and manservant oddly. "Hi there," one of them says, a boy with wild dark hair and a zig-zag scar on his forehead. "I don't recognize you. You're not one a new professor, are you…?" The boy looks at the armoured stranger doubtfully. "What's with the chainmail and the sword?"

"I am no 'professor'," Arthur says, not completely certain what the term means, because if he's ever come across it before he cannot recall doing so. "I am a knight, of course I am armoured. What is this kingdom? My friend and I are, err, slightly lost. Could you please point the fastest way to Camelot?"

The youths look confused. "There's been no Camelot for at least a thousand years."

"It looks like you apparated here," a brunette girl exclaims. "But that's impossible! No one can apparate inside Hogwarts, everyone knows that." She goes on about some history and books and more history and finally magic and Arthur grips his sword tighter. "And you look like from the medieval times, but everyone knows timetravel would take an insane amount of energy, you'd have to make a rip in the fabric of time; no wizard or witch has ever been able to do it over such distances, I mean, only for a few hours or days at most-"

"Hermione," a redhead boy cuts in, "we didn't ask for a lecture! You aren't one of the teachers, you know!"

"This is a school?" the prince says apprehensively.

"Yeah, for magic," the redhead says like it's the most obvious, natural thing in the world.

The idea seems insane and completely absurd, in Arthur's opinion.

The youngsters nod as one. "Yes, didn't you know? This is Hogwarts, a school for young Wizards and Witches. How can't you know if you used magic to get here?"

One of them pulls out a stick from their black robes and waves it around, making little sparks and Arthur continues to look doubtful, because waving a silly stick around isn't quite what he'd call magic. He has seen powerful (and not so powerful) sorcerers, sorceresses and the most powerful warlock of them all, and none of them have ever used silly sticks. "Like that," the student says with a smile, accomplished. "Magic."

"I was not the one wielding magic," Arthur says carefully, not remarking on how stupid it looks when they're waving stick around making sparkles, because if he does they surely will turn him into a toad. "I know not how to."

Merlin looks up now. He looks a bit ill, his face green. "Arthur, I'm really dizzy, the world's spinnin' like a cartwheel," he says and giggles. "Cartwheel!" The giggle turns into a whine almost of pain and he holds his head. "Oww. Can I sit down?" He notices the audience, and smiles and waves nervously. "Hi!"

"Okay, fine," Arthur says and eases the warlock onto the floor. "But hold onto me." If they somehow magically get tugged someplace else, he has to make sure the warlock's with him. Merlin obediently nods and hugs the prince's leg which is incredibly awkward with so many curious people looking and at the same time it's very reassuring, Merlin holding onto him, and the prince's face heats up.

"Is he okay?" another youth, or student as they call themselves, asks concernedly.

"Yeah, he'll be fine...He's merely slightly inebriated." Or a lot too much. Arthur wonders if, when they get back to the city, Gaius will drug him or something again for letting his ward get drunk. Gaius can be scary like that sometimes.

"But who are you and how did you get into Hogwarts if you didn't apparate?" the girl demands to know.

"I am Prince Arthur of Camelot and that's my manservant, Merlin. I believe we got here through magic, but I am not certain as of how…"

"No way!" one of the boys exclaims and points at Merlin, for some reason, accusingly. "That can't be the Great Merlin! He can't have been a servant!"

Arthur stares at the boy blankly.

"Merlin's beard!" another says. "It doesn't make sense!"

"Yeah, isn't he supposed to be an old man with a beard and Arthur the King?"

Arthur raises his eyebrows. Why would Merlin be an old man, and what would make him automatically king without beign something else, i.e. prince, first? And how does these people know about them anyway?

"Don't you see," the girl Hermione cuts in, "perhaps the Legends aren't completely right, and he was prince before coming to the throne; not pull the sword out of the stone without knowing of his heritage, and it might have known Merlin before meeting the Lady of the Lake. In fact, this book I came across two days ago says that-"

"Merlin's beard, Hermione," sighs the redhead. "Please. Just for five minutes, that's all."

Merlin giggles in a very unmanly way, still cuddling Arthur's leg. "I'ven't got a beard! Silly!"

"Merlin's saggy left buttock, I can't believe it! Merlin, for real, here in Hogwarts! We've got to tell everybody!" one of the students say eager and tugs his companion's sleeve. "Come on, let's fetch Fred and George, they won't believe this!"

"Merlin's balls-"

Arthur clears his throat. "That's enough," he cuts in firmly in the kind of voice which would make even the toughest knight wince. Who are these strange people, and why are they thinking Merlin is an old man and swears by Merlin's name, and espeically in such a manner? It's horrendous, they should be ashamed of themselves! How dare they! There's absoluetly nothing wrong with Merlin's backside, or any other part of his body! But since they are mere children, he doesn't throw his gauntlet by their feet, it wouldn't be fair and they seem so odd, there's no guarantee they know about challenges and fights.

He takes a deep breath to control himself. "If you just tell us how to get out of here…"

"…I'ven't got a beard, I'd look silly with a beard…wouldn't I, Arthur? Wouldn't I?" Merlin says from below and suddenly the warlock looks troubled and worried, biting his bottom lip and looking up at the prince with wide tearful eyes. "Ohmygod I'm gonna get old and have a beard and look ridiculous and everyone will remember me as an old man with a beard! Nooo! Arthur, Arthur, what am I gonna do?" he whines, like a child who's just realized that Father Yuletide hasn't climbed down the chimney but it was the child's own parent who's hid the presents under the tree and Yuletide has been ruined. (And if that happens, Arthur's quite sure Merlin would be upset too, the childish adorable idiot.)

Merlin continues to look up at him anxiosuly, tugging at his trouser like a child who wants attention, his bottom lip wobbling.

Arthur's eyes widen.

Oh no. Nonono. The idiot's going to start crying now. Would it be justified if Arthur breaks the nose of the boy who said the thing about the beard? Have they any idea how sensitive Merlin is? It'll take hours for Arthur to calm him down!

"Merlin, it's going to be fine, and you don't look ridiculous with a beard, I promise," he says gently. "And you won't be remembered only as an old man, you idiot. Of course not."

"R-really?" the warlock sniffles, rubbing his nose with the sleeve his tunic, his eyes glazed. "You mean it, Arthur?"

"Of course," Arthur says and smiles at him a bit uncertainly, patting the warlock's head. Couldn't the idiot hiccough soon and get them out of here, before Arthur clambers through the strange castle with moving paintings with his sword held aloft and runs through whoever is the king of the bizarre place?

"Okay!" Merlin says brightly and hugs the prince's leg tightly. "You're my best friend, Arthur! My bestest friend!"

The remaining group of students look at the pair oddly. "I never thought the great Merlin was so ..."

"... Me neither ..."

"They look rather cute together, don't they though?" says one of the girls and all females seem to agree.

"We do not look 'cute'," Arthur protests loudly, sending them a glare which could make the bravest warrior quiver in his boots. "And we are not ... 'together' in the manner which you imply!"

The girls look disheartened at hearing that, except the brunette who narrows her eyes at them doubtfully.

Fortunately, Merlin hiccoughs just a few seconds later while in the middle of cutting the blood flow to Arthur's left foot and talk nonsense and say 'I love you' over an over which really warms Arthur's heart to hear, only he still is furious about those strange evil 'students' at 'hog warts' for making his Merlin upset and he's itching to use his sword. The world starts to swirl again with sounds and colours and the black clad youths fade away.

()()()

It's a box. In the middle of a forest. A tall, blue box. Arthur taps it with his sword, expecting a claning sound, not for the door to open: he jumps back in shock.

"Hello there, lads," says an odd man in a suit and bowtie as he steps out. "You seem quite lost. Can I help you?"

"Who are you?" Arthur demands to know.

"I'm the Doctor," the man says like it's obvious.

"I like butterflies," Merlin announces to nobody in particular.

The prince aims his sword at the man: he's not trusting anyone now. Especially not men dressed like that who are smiling creepily as they come out of blue boxes in the middle of nowhere. "Doctor who?"

"Exactly!"

Merlin is still strangling Arthur's leg. "I don't want a beard," he murmurs, sounding frightened and small and alone, and Arthur pats his head awkwardly. "I wanna go home, Arthur," Merlin whines, and hiccoughs.

()()()

When they appear again in the middle of the tavern, the music and laughing has stopped, everybody turns around to stare at them, food and drink forgotten; the knights rush up to them at once (except sir Bors who's asleep under one of the tables).

"Sire, what happened?" Lancelot asks worriedly, casting a glance at the half-laughing, half-sobbing warlock clinging to the prince's leg. "You suddenly vanished into thin air! There was no warning!"

"I…I shall explain later," Arthur says slowly. He glares at everyone who looks at them wrong and people turn awkwardly around and start talking, singing and laughing again. "I really need a drink. Something strong. The strongest you've got."

"What about Merlin, is he all right?" sir Gareth asks. "Should we…umm, dislodge him, sire?"

"It's fine; let the idiot calm down first." The prince accepts the cup the wide-eyed barman gives him and takes a big sip. He gives his man a warning look. "But, never ever mention beards around him, understand?" And he whispers the Word That Mustn't Be Named just in case Merlin's listening.

"Yes, sire," the knights replies dutifully though confused. "May we enquire as to why?"

Arthur glances down at his warlock, then shakes his head. "It doesn't really matter. No. It was only very strange."

"So, what happened then?"

"I think we came to a land of sorcerers. They were speaking into little boxes, and rode in carriages without horses. Then we came to this place full of students who waved sticks around and called themselves wizards and witches. Apparently they all knew about Merlin, like he was a legend or something equally stupid."

The knights share a dumbfounded look.

"And then there's this man, living in a blue box. It was all very strange."

"How very odd," sir Leon agrees. "Another pint, sire?"

Arthur downs it in one go.

Merlin keeps clinging to his leg until he falls asleep and Arthur can pry his arms off (the grip surprisingly strong) and can carry the unconscious manservant to his chambers. The look on Gaius face, as the prince arrives on his doorstep with a peacefully Merlin asleep in his arms and half of the knights crowding behind him, is priceless.

()()()

As he wakes up the following morning, the sun is far too bright and stings terribly in his eyes, the world is too noisy and loud and he clamps his hands over his face as if it would make it all go away. The headache is awful, like he's spent the night in the smithery where someone's used his head as anvil.

"Good morning, Merlin. How's your head?"

"Urgh, it huuurts."

"I can imagine, with all the wine and the magic you used last night," Gaius says, walking up and putting something on the bedside table. "Here, I've got this potion for you, it should take away the worst pain. I am incredibly curious however to know if you remember anything. Prince Arthur told quite a tale, about a strange city of metal and glass, a man with a blue box and a school, Hog the Warts I think it was called, of magic - of all things. Such a peculiar name…"

The memories suddenly flare up, although foggy, and Merlin giggles. "Hogwarts. Yeah! They were kinda funny, but they didn't make any sense...and their paintings moved, Gaius, moved like the people on them were real! And the stairs kept changing direction! I wonder if they were angry or bored or something. And this girl, she asked for an autograph! From Arthur. What's an autograph, Gaius?" He giggles some more, burying his face in the pillow, muffling the sound. "And the students said they're magic but they didn't show me any magic, oh I'd liked to've learned a new spell! But then they, like, said my name a lot, like they knew me for some reason which doesn't make any sense, and it upset Arthur. Yeah. He seemed quite upset. Like he'd been insulted or was about too lose a tournament. Not that he ever loses... What'd they say again? …I can't remember…Something about…yeah, my beard!" Another bout of laughter. "Imagine, Gaius, me, with a beard!"

"Perhaps you would prefer a sleeping draught?" the physician suggested, causing Merlin to yawn, maybe it was the word sleep that affected him like that, or all the giggling.

"Yeeah…And a beard…Arthur said I'd not look silly with a beard…I think he likes me with a beard! Which is weird. Wieeerd. I need to tell him I won't have a beard, it's ridiculous," Merlin continues to ramble through the pillow. "I don't need a beard 'cause I'm awesome."

Gaius sends him the Eyebrow Look, clearly not very impressed with his ward's behavior. "I'll tell Prince Arthur you'll be sleeping off your hangover and are unable to work for him today."

With a laugh Merlin falls back on the bed, liking the sound of finally getting a lie-in. "... Gaius, I'm think I'm going to be famous!"