Fic: Merlin; G/PG; Equilibrium - Chapter 6
Title: Equilibrium (6/9 + Epilogue)
Fandom: Merlin
Rating: G/PG
Wordcount: This part: 5369, Overall ~44000
Pairing/Characters: Merlin, Arthur, Percival (OC), Gaius, Uther
Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin, nor any of the characters. The version of Arthurian legend this was inspired by/based on belongs to the Beeb.
Warnings: Vague corruption of Arthurian Legend
Spoilers: Up to the Gates of Avalon
Author’s Note: Many thanks to wrennette for the beta work.
Summary: In this part: Merlin comes up with a plan, but Percival, moved by Nimueh’s earlier words, decides to up the ante. Oh, and Arthur and Merlin end up in bed together…
Previous parts: 1| 2| 3| 4| 5
Gaius had got back sometime while Merlin was still out following whatever clue he had found.
At first Arthur had thought that he was putting together one of his disgusting concoctions but after a few minutes, and a couple of questions concerning whether the Crown Prince preferred this or that in his stew, Arthur looked up with the horrified realisation that this was, in fact, his lunch.
As though he had some sort of sixth sense, Merlin hurried in just as Gaius was placing the bowls of unrecognisable food (if food it was) down on the table.
“Great,” he said, “I’m starving…” he sat down without even waiting for Gaius to serve himself and dug in to the slop in front of him. Arthur made a mental note never to rebuke Merlin for stealing some of his food ever again and stared down at the bowl. He took a tentative slurp.
“This isn’t bad…” he said in amazement, and earned himself one of Gaius’ cutting looks.
“My thanks sire,” the man said and Arthur quickly turned his attention back to the food again, trying to avoid the older man’s smirk. In some ways Gaius was worse than his father. He took his cue from Merlin and began to eat as fast as he could. There was a strange pleasure in the companionable silence of the dinner table. Unlike court functions he was not required to make nice with visiting diplomats or trade subtle insults with Morgana. There was no protocol for eating in the Physician’s quarters and neither Gaius nor Merlin felt the need to stand on ceremony with him. Although Gaius sat at the head of the table there was no indication that that was his usual position. In fact, Arthur had the impression, from the way Merlin kept looking up and then sliding his glance across to the older man, that the pair of them usually sat opposite each other. Status and rank did not seem to have a place here and he relaxed as he spooned more stew into his mouth.
“I never understand why you feel the need to eat so fast,” Gaius remarked, looking over at Merlin, but Arthur knew that he had meant the comment for both of them. “The food isn’t going to run away you know.”
“Ah, but I might have to leave,” Merlin replied, it almost felt as though Arthur were intruding on a conversation the pair of them had had time and time again. The smile on Merlin’s face was joking.
“For some reason I doubt your duties are going to call you away today,” Gaius remarked and Merlin shot Arthur an amused grin. “So slow down and try not to get indigestion.”
“But what if Camelot needs me?” Merlin asked cheekily, “you know the place falls apart if I’m not there to keep it together.” Arthur snorted slightly under his breath, and Merlin turned to him. “What?” he asked.
“I hardly think the city relies on you to keep it standing,” he said. “If it does then I can’t believe it has more than a few days left.”
“Hey!” Merlin cried out. “I’m not that useless!”
“You’re not that useful, either,” Arthur retorted, spooning up the dregs of his stew with a wicked smile.
“Then you must be glad that you fired me,” said Merlin.
“It doesn’t seem to have done your ego any harm?”
“You are talking to me about ego?” Merlin asked incredulously as Gaius rolled his eyes and continued to eat his lunch at a far more reasonable pace. “What about you then?”
“I’m the Prince…” Arthur pointed out, to Merlin he just looked his usual swaggering self, but Gaius, eating his stew blinked at the sight of the unknown peasant making one of the Crown Prince’s infamous smirks. “It’s not ego, it’s fact.”
“Yes sire,” said Merlin, in the tone of voice that he always employed to agree with the Prince when they both knew he really did not.
“Anyway, how did that idea of yours go?” the Prince asked, changing the subject. Merlin blinked and his mouth fell open. He was wearing his usual guilty look, the one which both of the other men at the table knew meant that he was about to start lying - badly.
“Well… not as well as I’d hoped,” he said, trying to avoid eye contact with anyone, although both Arthur and Gaius were staring at him. “To be honest, I wasn’t really holding out much hope anyway. It was just an idea.”
“Great, so we’re still where we were when this all began?” Arthur asked. He picked up the mirror again and stared at himself. “I…” He paused, and stared at his reflection.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Merlin asked Gaius, who was still examining his face seriously, one eyebrow raised. He knew that Merlin was not telling them something. “I haven’t done anything wrong.” Arthur’s head snapped up and stared at him.
“Say that again,” he said quickly. Merlin turned to him in bewilderment.
“Say what?”
“I haven’t done anything wrong,” Arthur said and blinked as he recognised the voice that came out of his mouth. “Wait…” the Prince said, freezing in place. “I just remembered something… I mean, I think I did.”
“Anything can be useful,” Gaius reminded him again and Arthur wondered if Merlin had to put up with his combination of amusement and wisdom whenever he came back furious from another day of Arthur ordering him around.
“What is it?” Merlin asked, and for once he did not look like he was laughing at Arthur’s expense. Apparently the gravity of the situation was sinking in. That was, if Arthur was not much mistaken, his life or death situation face. He had seen it more times before than he would have liked and it was actually just as terrifying as it was reassuring. When Merlin started to take something seriously he had to worry.
“There was this boy, on patrol yesterday,” he said, reluctant to continue. But they had said that Gaius needed to know everything. The pair of them waited patiently for Arthur to continue and eventually he did so, out of sheer need to fill the expectant silence. “He was… odd.”
“Odd how?” Merlin asked. “Did his eyes change colour? Did he say some words you didn’t understand?” Arthur looked at him curiously for a moment before his manservant looked away quickly. The way he was talking made it seem as though he knew something. In fact, the way that Gaius was including him every step of the way implied there was definitely something he did not know about Merlin and that was wrong. He felt out of the loop, and the worst of all was that it was Merlin. The boy couldn’t lie or keep a secret to save his life. He blustered and overcompensated for everything and the very idea that there was something Arthur had not found out about him was unconscionable.
“No… he was just rude. He reminded me of you actually.” Arthur said. He knew that he was overcompensating for his disease with arrogance, but he let the words come out anyway. This was too unsettling. He needed something normal and insulting Merlin was at least that.
“I’m not rude,” Merlin replied immediately.
“Yes, you are,” Arthur insisted, trying to cover up his misapprehensions by taunting the boy. While they were arguing everything seemed to fit properly, when they were silent, or Merlin was sombre and serious everything was that little bit more off kilter and it was not just because he was wearing someone else’s body. “You’re rude, insubordinate; you make the stupidest mistakes. Whenever I ask you to do something you argue with me.”
“Ahem,” Gaius cleared his throat politely and Arthur was pulled back to his tale.
“But yes, this boy: he was arrogant. Had the nerve to tell me that the road belonged to him just as much as it belonged to me and he wanted me to step aside.” He mused on the subject for a second. “He was actually quite brave, if a bit of an idiot. If I hadn’t been frozen to my saddle I probably would have spoken with him for a bit longer.” He shrugged. Merlin was grinning again, probably glad that someone else had stood up to him. He seemed to think that Arthur was arrogant for thinking that everyone should follow his orders. He clearly had not been paying attention when someone explained what royalty was.
“So what did you do?” he asked, thankfully choosing not to say whatever witty retort was in his lips.
“Nothing. I just rode past him and left him behind. I barely even remembered he existed until just now.” Arthur looked down at the reflection of the young man’s face in the mirror.
“It doesn’t sound like a terribly important encounter,” Merlin agreed with him and Arthur nodded.
“I know… but I’m him,” the Prince said, looking back at the mirror. “Those are the words he said to me. ‘I haven’t done anything wrong.’ I can’t believe this! He was just some idiot on the road, why would he go to all these lengths for revenge because I asked him to step aside.”
“I doubt he knew what was going on, sire,” Gaius said, finishing up his lunch and standing to gather up the dishes. “Nimueh probably used him just as much as she uses everyone.”
“Do you know this Nimueh?” Arthur asked, curiously and Gaius looked away.
“I know of her.” He admitted, but again Arthur had the feeling that there were too many secrets in the room. He shifted uncomfortably.
“Right.”
“So, where did you meet this man?” Merlin asked, leaning forward over the table. Arthur shrugged.
“I… in between Tréadon and… the forest to the east,” he said. “I remember, the road through the forest was a nightmare and there were signs of bandits.”
“That’s where Nimueh will be,” Merlin said, standing abruptly.
“Merlin,” Gaius’ voice cut across the room and Merlin looked over at him slowly. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“I’ve got to stop her,” Merlin said. Arthur couldn’t help but laugh at the earnest look on his face.
“And what exactly are you going to do against a powerful sorceress, Merlin?” he asked crossing his arms over his chest. He rose to his feet as well. “I know you mean well, but you’ll just end up getting yourself killed.”
“Arthur’s right, Merlin,” Gaius said, and the physician shared a look with the Prince’s manservant that Arthur almost missed. There were several seconds where the two of them just stared at each other before Merlin’s shoulders sagged and he sighed bitterly.
“Precisely, I’ll go,” Arthur said, turning to head for the door.
“And what are you going to do against a powerful sorceress?” Merlin demanded before the Prince had even taken two steps.
“A whole lot more than you could,” Arthur snapped back.
“Without your armour?” Merlin asked, “without a horse? Without your own body?” he asked again. “Prince Arthur is the best warrior in the land, but you’re not Prince Arthur right now.”
“I am still the Prince, no matter whose body I have,” Arthur said angrily, turning to glare at the other young man. Merlin did not even flinch.
“Mentally, yes, but you know as well as I do that you’re not fully in control of that body yet. You misjudge distances, your movements are a lot slower… you go out there and she’ll kill you before you have a chance to do anything.” They stared at each other and Arthur could feel the anger pounding in his ears, but he could also feel the truth of what Merlin was saying. These hands were clumsy, his legs did not move like a trained fighter and he did not have time to beat the body into submission. But still…
“She wouldn’t…” he muttered under her breath. “It is not her destiny to kill me.” He had not intended for Merlin to overhear those words, echoed from the woman who stood over him as he clung to a ledge over a pit of darkness, but the curious look his manservant gave him showed that he had. “Enough…” he took a deep breath and grimaced as the next words came out of his mouth, “you’re right.” Merlin’s look of gobsmacked shock was almost enough to make agreeing with him more palatable. “But what else can we do?”
“We need a plan…” Gaius said, finally entering the conversation. “If my research is right then we do not need to face Nimueh at all, merely destroy the totem which controls the spell.”
“How do we do that?” Arthur asked without looking away from the door.
“From what I’ve read, fire should do the trick,” Gaius said. “But destroying the totem is not the problem… getting it is. We need to find it.”
“She’ll keep it on her,” Merlin said with a groan, his shoulders sagging in defeat. “So we will have to go up against her.”
“Brilliant,” Arthur said in exasperation, looking at Gaius with a long suffering grimace. “So we’re back at square one.”
“Not entirely, sire,” Gaius took a step forward. “I feel that it would be better if we had a strategy for getting the totem from her.”
“Which she’ll know we’re trying to do,” the Prince pointed out, “and she’ll counter our attempts to seize it.”
“I might have an idea…” Merlin said. Arthur just looked up at him, clearly unconvinced.
“You have a plan for going up against a powerful Sorceress?” he asked incredulously. “You can barely plan your day out.”
“That’s because every time I make a plan you add more things to my to do list that have to be done right then and everything gets delayed,” Merlin retorted, although he was only half paying attention. There was a look of concentration on his face that Arthur had rarely seen before. “But… I think it might work. I just have to…” He looked up and stared right at Arthur, blinking in shock, as though he had only just noticed that the Prince was there, which was a little insulting, given that he was the only one who could see Arthur as Arthur.
“Merlin?” Gaius asked, but the younger man did not look away from the Prince’s eyes. Arthur could almost see a war going on in his manservant’s mind, although he had no idea why. If the idiot had a plan, why did he not just spit it out so they could get on with it?
“I’ll have to ride out to where you saw the… where you two met,” Merlin said slowly.
“Well, we won’t be able to do that until tomorrow,” Arthur pointed out, gesturing to the small window which was already showing the signs of sunset. “We’ll set off at first light. What is this plan of yours anyway?”
“I’m still…” Merlin looked away, uncomfortably, “finalising the details.”
“Well finalise them quickly,” Arthur extended a hand and flexed it with a look of disgust. “This body is…” he paused. “We just need to be quick, that’s all.”
***
Percival stood before the King and tried his best not to cower. He was this man’s son, he was Crown Prince of Camelot, captain of the knights and… the King’s gaze made him feel less worthy than he ever had in his life. He had thought, at first, that Uther had realised that he was not Arthur, but as the conversation had continued he realised that this was how the King always spoke to his son. None of his ‘father’s’ attendants seemed confused by his harsh words, in fact, they all looked bored by the whole situation. It was as though this were a daily occurrence.
“You ran into a Sorcerer, you say?” the King asked, leaning forward in his seat, steepling his fingers together. The look in his eyes made Percival’s blood run cold. No wonder the Sorceress in the woods hated him; there was so much frozen malice in that look that Percival wanted to drag his gaze away. But he was not a cringing peasant anymore and he could not avert his gaze. He wanted to push that memory deep inside himself so that he would always know what madness looked like.
“In the woods, on my hunting trip,” Percival said, aware of how weak his story was. Going round and round in his mind were the words ‘him or me’ over and over again until they had barely any meaning left. Perhaps words wore out after a while: the more you used them the more meaningless they got until there was nothing there but noise. Maybe that happened with names as well. Was he Percival, was he Arthur? He wasn’t sure if even he knew that anymore.
Except he did. He wished he didn’t but he knew who he was. The real Arthur was out there somewhere and he was about to sign his death warrant.
“He swore vengeance on the Kingdom and then, before I could attack him, he vanished.” Somehow the polished tone of the Prince’s voice made the half-lie seem more believable. Uther straightened up again and set his shoulders. Around him advisers, knights and guards all watched carefully, although they all knew what was coming next.
“Magic is outlawed in Camelot,” the King intoned, his voice resonating through the great hall. “Search the city, find the sorcerer and escort him to the jail to await execution. The scourge of Sorcery will be extinguished from this land.” Percival bowed awkwardly, but Uther was too busy fuming to notice. Apparently the only thing that would distract him from the shortcomings of his son was the presence of magic. Percival shuddered a little as he turned to walk from the room, a party of knights and guards falling into step behind him. He was grateful that he had no father if that was what they were like: all criticism and hard words.
He gave a description to his search teams, who seemed to have done this so often that they did what they had to without question. He was both relieved and alarmed by the fact. How common an occurrence were allegations of Sorcery that the pursuit of magic users was such a well organised routine?
He tried to push the thoughts of execution from his head as they proceeded through the streets of Camelot. With any luck he would find Merlin during this search as well and then he could kill two birds with one stone.
How many times must Arthur, the real Arthur, have performed this task, pushing into people’s houses and going through their meagre things in an attempt to find a Sorcerer who might not even have existed? How many people had he led back to the chopping block? The thought made him feel a little sick. Maybe the Prince did deserve this, after all.
But then he remembered the King’s face in his mind and how the thought of saying no to those cold eyes was unthinkable. If the Prince felt like he did then… maybe he never wanted to do this either. Or perhaps he just followed orders like everyone else.
Some eyes were defiant when he walked into their houses; others bowed their heads in deference. Children were hugged to mother’s skirts and the elderly who had seen the law against Magic come and the world change, looked at him in judgement. He wanted to tell them that this was necessary, that if he found the Sorcerer - Arthur - then he would make sure that they never had to go through this again. He wanted to explain to them that his motives were reasonable. But deep in the back of his mind there was a small voice that still whispered ‘him or me’ and he knew the words would be pointless.
***
“What are you doing?” Merlin asked when he came into the bedroom.
“Going to bed,” the Prince responded, looking across at Merlin as though he was being more of an idiot than usual. “What does it look like?”
“It looks like you’re going to my bed…” Merlin replied. It was true. Arthur was sitting in his bed clothes on the side of Merlin’s small bed reaching out to extinguish the candle.
“Your point being?”
“It’s my bed…” Merlin said slowly. “As in mine… and it’s not big enough for two.”
“Sleep on the floor then,” Arthur said with a shrug. Merlin’s jaw dropped open, not that he should have been surprised at the development, and not that he had a problem with sleeping on the floor - before coming to Camelot he had never had a bed - but it was the principle of the thing.
“But it’s my bed,” he spluttered and Arthur shrugged with a grin.
“You’re my servant. As such you tend to my needs, and I need to sleep in a bed.”
“Go and sleep in Gaius’,” Merlin retorted without thinking. The pair of them paused and stared at each other for a moment, their faces twisting in expressions of distaste. “Fine, that’s a stupid idea, but I don’t see why I should be the one to sleep on the floor.”
“I’m the Prince,” Arthur said, as though that were the answer to every question in the universe. Merlin sometimes thought that Arthur really believed it was.
“And it’s my bed,” Merlin reiterated, hoping that if he just continued in the same vein for as long as possible Arthur would be forced to give in.
“Which you have been so very kind to give me use of for the night,” Arthur said, lying down in Merlin’s bed with a self-satisfied smirk.
“I said you could sleep up here, I did not say you could sleep in my bed,” Merlin protested, but his words fell on deaf ears as Arthur rolled over and closed his eyes.
“Good night, Merlin,” he said firmly, as though that ended the argument. Merlin, standing at the foot of the bed, folded his arms across his chest and glared at the seemingly peaceful form of the Prince. Sometimes he had no idea why he tried to save the prat’s life. Honestly, life would be a lot easier if he just let him die.
“Go to sleep, Merlin.” Arthur said, not opening his eyes. “I’m not moving, no matter how much you glare at me.” If he had opened his eyes he would have seen the grin spread slowly over Merlin’s face as he tiptoed to the side of the bed and leaned over. The Prince shifted a little, trying to get comfortable and Merlin took advantage of the movement to shove him swiftly and push him right off the bed.
Arthur landed in an undignified pile on the other side of the bed with a large thud and a startled yelp, and Merlin had snuck into the bed before the Prince had even worked out what had happened.
“Merlin!” Arthur growled, coming to his feet. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Going to sleep, what does it look like…”
“Get out of the bed.”
“It’s my bed.”
“Get out before I push you out,” Arthur threatened. Merlin just shot him an unimpressed look.
“That’s not exactly original, is it?” he said, stretching out in the bed with a yawn. Arthur’s eyes followed the rise and fall of his chest.
“I won’t sleep on the floor,” the Prince insisted, and Merlin wondered if Arthur realised just how much he sulked when things did not go his way, probably not, because Princes probably were not supposed to sulk like two year olds. “I know the kind of filth you live in. Who knows what’s down there.”
“I’m sure you can tell me in the morning,” Merlin replied with a smile, closing his eyes, but he had barely shut the lids when there was a rustle of blankets and the bed shifted under him. “Arthur - there’s not enough room,” he pointed out again as the Prince’s body came into contact with his all down his side. He felt Arthur shrug.
“It’s not like you’ve got any muscle to you,” the Prince said, shifting a little so he pushed Merlin over until the warlock felt as though he were teetering on the edge. “And if neither of us wants to sleep on the floor then this is the only way either of us is going to get any sleep.”
“Except I’m going to fall out if I breath in too much,” Merlin said irritably, pushing Arthur back until he felt more secure.
“Now I’m falling out!” Arthur said, flattening one arm over Merlin’s chest to grab onto him as he began to slip off the bed.
“Arthur…” Merlin hissed, “Let go… Arthur!” But his words did not good and the Prince only succeeded in pulling them both off the bed and onto the floor. He landed on top of Arthur, narrowly avoiding a knee to a rather sensitive part of his anatomy in the fall. The arm that Arthur had used to pull him over was wedged between them like a buffer making sure their upper bodies and heads did not crack together.
The pair of them stared at each other for a moment; their noses inches apart and Merlin could feel the amusement piling up inside of him. There was a very good chance that he was going to die tomorrow, one way or another, but for some reason that only made the situation funnier. Underneath him he could feel Arthur’s arm shaking with his ribcage as a smile spread across the Prince’s face.
“Merlin…” Arthur said with an exasperated smile, “Are you planning on getting off me any time soon?” That was all it took for Merlin to start laughing. It began as a chuckle, but soon his entire body was shaking with laughter, although part of that could have been from Arthur, who seemed to be caught up in the amusement of the situation himself.
Eventually Merlin managed to roll off Arthur so they were lying side by side, their bodies bumping together as they laughed. They were so caught up in their laughter, although Merlin could not quite remember what had been so funny - perhaps it had been the look on Arthur’s face as they fell, that neither of them noticed Gaius standing in the doorway until he cleared his throat loudly.
As soon as it had come, the laughter ended. Arthur pushed himself into a sitting position abruptly, trying to retain some shred of Princely dignity, but as soon as he saw the look on Gaius’ face all thoughts of dignity and laughter and sleep were gone. Merlin’s face fell as he took in the Physician’s expression. It was the kind of look Gaius only got when something had gone seriously wrong and someone, usually him, was going to have to sort it out.
“What is it?” Arthur asked, pulling himself to his feet and extending a hand to Merlin. His manservant took the hand gratefully and pulled himself up, looking back at Gaius.
“The Prince… the other Prince, is conducting a search for a sorcerer,” Gaius said solemnly.
“What sorcerer?” Arthur asked, “Is Camelot under threat?”
“You, sire…”
Merlin could feel the bottom of his stomach drop away as Gaius’ words sunk in. He had known that Arthur would have to be careful, but he had never expected that the imposter would be as open in his hunt. To have Arthur declared a sorcerer. Before, the situation had seemed amusing: no one was dead; there was just a slight mix up with faces. Certainly, he had been worried, and concerned, and he had been willing to go up against Nimueh in an attempt to get Arthur back, but of all the magical mishaps that had happened to the Prince, this had seemed the least dangerous.
Now they were facing the executioner’s axe.
“I have to leave,” Arthur said, grabbing his clothing from where he had let it fall earlier. He sat on the bed and started to pull it on.
“What?” Merlin said in alarm. “No… you can’t go out there. If they see you and catch you, they’ll kill you.”
“I’ll try and slip out of the gate without being seen. If I’m quick enough, I’ll be fine.”
“Arthur… stay. The entire city is looking for you.”
“If I’m found here,” Arthur said, pausing to look up at Merlin’s worried face with a sad smile. “Then they will execute all three of us. You cannot be found to be harbouring a sorcerer.” Merlin’s eyes slid to Gaius for a second, reminded of the troubles that the physician went to for him. Guilt rose inside him like bile. He put Gaius in danger every day by his mere existence, and now Arthur was leaving for just that reason. “I have to go, Merlin.” The Prince finished pulling on his boots and stood up, reaching out to rest a hand on Merlin’s arm. He looked Merlin in the eyes.
“If I get out, meet me on the North road, just over the hill, tomorrow and we’ll go up against Nimueh together. You could even tell me that plan of yours and I can point out all the flaws in it.”
“Arthur…”
“He’s right, Merlin,” Gaius said. Both young men turned to him, having almost forgotten he was there. “If all three of us are caught then there’s no way for us to set this right.”
Arthur nodded and strode to the door, passing Gaius with a grateful nod, gripping his fore arm in gratitude.
“My thanks,” he said solemnly. Merlin knew, even without being able to see, that the expression on his face would be the one he always put on before tournaments and when acceding to requests from his father that he did not agree with. It was blank and determined and Princely, and Merlin knew that underneath it all Arthur was full of rage and fear, not that he could ever show that. “You have always been of assistance to my family.”
“Sire,” Gaius said, acknowledging Arthur’s thanks with a nod of his head. The Prince released him and ran down the steps, Merlin following behind as quickly as he could.
“Arthur,” he said, trying to get between the Prince and the door, “think about this…”
“Make sure your plan works… I’m counting on it.”
“I’ll get you out of this, I promise,” Merlin assured him and he was relieved to see the Prince’s mouth quirk slightly towards a smile.
“For some reason, you don’t fill me with confidence,” Arthur sighed, “it had to be you, didn’t it?”
“If you’re going to go, you should go,” Merlin said, stepping away from the door and looking anywhere but at Arthur.
The Prince did not turn around again before leaving. The door shut behind him, leaving Gaius and Merlin staring at the wood with anxious faces.
“He’ll make it,” Merlin muttered to himself. “He’s got to make it. He’s Arthur.”
“You should go back to bed,” Gaius said, choosing not to comment on Merlin’s insistence. “If the Prince’s men find us up, they will ask questions.”
He walked over and gently pulled Merlin away from the door and gave him a small shove towards his room.
Neither of them spoke as they went back to their rooms. Merlin lay down in the bed that suddenly felt too big and stared at the ceiling. He listened for the sounds of Arthur being caught frantically as he lay there but he heard nothing. He should have been relieved, but there was no knock on the door either. The search had not come to them yet.
He drew in a deep breath and held it for a moment as there was a muted sound of voices, but he did not recognise them. Then, just as he was relaxing there came a yell.
Merlin sat bolt upright in the bed and stared out of the window, trying to see any sign at all of what was going on, but all he had to go on was that one word: ‘stop’.
***
On to Chapter 7
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Fandom: Merlin
Rating: G/PG
Wordcount: This part: 5369, Overall ~44000
Pairing/Characters: Merlin, Arthur, Percival (OC), Gaius, Uther
Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin, nor any of the characters. The version of Arthurian legend this was inspired by/based on belongs to the Beeb.
Warnings: Vague corruption of Arthurian Legend
Spoilers: Up to the Gates of Avalon
Author’s Note: Many thanks to wrennette for the beta work.
Summary: In this part: Merlin comes up with a plan, but Percival, moved by Nimueh’s earlier words, decides to up the ante. Oh, and Arthur and Merlin end up in bed together…
Previous parts: 1| 2| 3| 4| 5
Gaius had got back sometime while Merlin was still out following whatever clue he had found.
At first Arthur had thought that he was putting together one of his disgusting concoctions but after a few minutes, and a couple of questions concerning whether the Crown Prince preferred this or that in his stew, Arthur looked up with the horrified realisation that this was, in fact, his lunch.
As though he had some sort of sixth sense, Merlin hurried in just as Gaius was placing the bowls of unrecognisable food (if food it was) down on the table.
“Great,” he said, “I’m starving…” he sat down without even waiting for Gaius to serve himself and dug in to the slop in front of him. Arthur made a mental note never to rebuke Merlin for stealing some of his food ever again and stared down at the bowl. He took a tentative slurp.
“This isn’t bad…” he said in amazement, and earned himself one of Gaius’ cutting looks.
“My thanks sire,” the man said and Arthur quickly turned his attention back to the food again, trying to avoid the older man’s smirk. In some ways Gaius was worse than his father. He took his cue from Merlin and began to eat as fast as he could. There was a strange pleasure in the companionable silence of the dinner table. Unlike court functions he was not required to make nice with visiting diplomats or trade subtle insults with Morgana. There was no protocol for eating in the Physician’s quarters and neither Gaius nor Merlin felt the need to stand on ceremony with him. Although Gaius sat at the head of the table there was no indication that that was his usual position. In fact, Arthur had the impression, from the way Merlin kept looking up and then sliding his glance across to the older man, that the pair of them usually sat opposite each other. Status and rank did not seem to have a place here and he relaxed as he spooned more stew into his mouth.
“I never understand why you feel the need to eat so fast,” Gaius remarked, looking over at Merlin, but Arthur knew that he had meant the comment for both of them. “The food isn’t going to run away you know.”
“Ah, but I might have to leave,” Merlin replied, it almost felt as though Arthur were intruding on a conversation the pair of them had had time and time again. The smile on Merlin’s face was joking.
“For some reason I doubt your duties are going to call you away today,” Gaius remarked and Merlin shot Arthur an amused grin. “So slow down and try not to get indigestion.”
“But what if Camelot needs me?” Merlin asked cheekily, “you know the place falls apart if I’m not there to keep it together.” Arthur snorted slightly under his breath, and Merlin turned to him. “What?” he asked.
“I hardly think the city relies on you to keep it standing,” he said. “If it does then I can’t believe it has more than a few days left.”
“Hey!” Merlin cried out. “I’m not that useless!”
“You’re not that useful, either,” Arthur retorted, spooning up the dregs of his stew with a wicked smile.
“Then you must be glad that you fired me,” said Merlin.
“It doesn’t seem to have done your ego any harm?”
“You are talking to me about ego?” Merlin asked incredulously as Gaius rolled his eyes and continued to eat his lunch at a far more reasonable pace. “What about you then?”
“I’m the Prince…” Arthur pointed out, to Merlin he just looked his usual swaggering self, but Gaius, eating his stew blinked at the sight of the unknown peasant making one of the Crown Prince’s infamous smirks. “It’s not ego, it’s fact.”
“Yes sire,” said Merlin, in the tone of voice that he always employed to agree with the Prince when they both knew he really did not.
“Anyway, how did that idea of yours go?” the Prince asked, changing the subject. Merlin blinked and his mouth fell open. He was wearing his usual guilty look, the one which both of the other men at the table knew meant that he was about to start lying - badly.
“Well… not as well as I’d hoped,” he said, trying to avoid eye contact with anyone, although both Arthur and Gaius were staring at him. “To be honest, I wasn’t really holding out much hope anyway. It was just an idea.”
“Great, so we’re still where we were when this all began?” Arthur asked. He picked up the mirror again and stared at himself. “I…” He paused, and stared at his reflection.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Merlin asked Gaius, who was still examining his face seriously, one eyebrow raised. He knew that Merlin was not telling them something. “I haven’t done anything wrong.” Arthur’s head snapped up and stared at him.
“Say that again,” he said quickly. Merlin turned to him in bewilderment.
“Say what?”
“I haven’t done anything wrong,” Arthur said and blinked as he recognised the voice that came out of his mouth. “Wait…” the Prince said, freezing in place. “I just remembered something… I mean, I think I did.”
“Anything can be useful,” Gaius reminded him again and Arthur wondered if Merlin had to put up with his combination of amusement and wisdom whenever he came back furious from another day of Arthur ordering him around.
“What is it?” Merlin asked, and for once he did not look like he was laughing at Arthur’s expense. Apparently the gravity of the situation was sinking in. That was, if Arthur was not much mistaken, his life or death situation face. He had seen it more times before than he would have liked and it was actually just as terrifying as it was reassuring. When Merlin started to take something seriously he had to worry.
“There was this boy, on patrol yesterday,” he said, reluctant to continue. But they had said that Gaius needed to know everything. The pair of them waited patiently for Arthur to continue and eventually he did so, out of sheer need to fill the expectant silence. “He was… odd.”
“Odd how?” Merlin asked. “Did his eyes change colour? Did he say some words you didn’t understand?” Arthur looked at him curiously for a moment before his manservant looked away quickly. The way he was talking made it seem as though he knew something. In fact, the way that Gaius was including him every step of the way implied there was definitely something he did not know about Merlin and that was wrong. He felt out of the loop, and the worst of all was that it was Merlin. The boy couldn’t lie or keep a secret to save his life. He blustered and overcompensated for everything and the very idea that there was something Arthur had not found out about him was unconscionable.
“No… he was just rude. He reminded me of you actually.” Arthur said. He knew that he was overcompensating for his disease with arrogance, but he let the words come out anyway. This was too unsettling. He needed something normal and insulting Merlin was at least that.
“I’m not rude,” Merlin replied immediately.
“Yes, you are,” Arthur insisted, trying to cover up his misapprehensions by taunting the boy. While they were arguing everything seemed to fit properly, when they were silent, or Merlin was sombre and serious everything was that little bit more off kilter and it was not just because he was wearing someone else’s body. “You’re rude, insubordinate; you make the stupidest mistakes. Whenever I ask you to do something you argue with me.”
“Ahem,” Gaius cleared his throat politely and Arthur was pulled back to his tale.
“But yes, this boy: he was arrogant. Had the nerve to tell me that the road belonged to him just as much as it belonged to me and he wanted me to step aside.” He mused on the subject for a second. “He was actually quite brave, if a bit of an idiot. If I hadn’t been frozen to my saddle I probably would have spoken with him for a bit longer.” He shrugged. Merlin was grinning again, probably glad that someone else had stood up to him. He seemed to think that Arthur was arrogant for thinking that everyone should follow his orders. He clearly had not been paying attention when someone explained what royalty was.
“So what did you do?” he asked, thankfully choosing not to say whatever witty retort was in his lips.
“Nothing. I just rode past him and left him behind. I barely even remembered he existed until just now.” Arthur looked down at the reflection of the young man’s face in the mirror.
“It doesn’t sound like a terribly important encounter,” Merlin agreed with him and Arthur nodded.
“I know… but I’m him,” the Prince said, looking back at the mirror. “Those are the words he said to me. ‘I haven’t done anything wrong.’ I can’t believe this! He was just some idiot on the road, why would he go to all these lengths for revenge because I asked him to step aside.”
“I doubt he knew what was going on, sire,” Gaius said, finishing up his lunch and standing to gather up the dishes. “Nimueh probably used him just as much as she uses everyone.”
“Do you know this Nimueh?” Arthur asked, curiously and Gaius looked away.
“I know of her.” He admitted, but again Arthur had the feeling that there were too many secrets in the room. He shifted uncomfortably.
“Right.”
“So, where did you meet this man?” Merlin asked, leaning forward over the table. Arthur shrugged.
“I… in between Tréadon and… the forest to the east,” he said. “I remember, the road through the forest was a nightmare and there were signs of bandits.”
“That’s where Nimueh will be,” Merlin said, standing abruptly.
“Merlin,” Gaius’ voice cut across the room and Merlin looked over at him slowly. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“I’ve got to stop her,” Merlin said. Arthur couldn’t help but laugh at the earnest look on his face.
“And what exactly are you going to do against a powerful sorceress, Merlin?” he asked crossing his arms over his chest. He rose to his feet as well. “I know you mean well, but you’ll just end up getting yourself killed.”
“Arthur’s right, Merlin,” Gaius said, and the physician shared a look with the Prince’s manservant that Arthur almost missed. There were several seconds where the two of them just stared at each other before Merlin’s shoulders sagged and he sighed bitterly.
“Precisely, I’ll go,” Arthur said, turning to head for the door.
“And what are you going to do against a powerful sorceress?” Merlin demanded before the Prince had even taken two steps.
“A whole lot more than you could,” Arthur snapped back.
“Without your armour?” Merlin asked, “without a horse? Without your own body?” he asked again. “Prince Arthur is the best warrior in the land, but you’re not Prince Arthur right now.”
“I am still the Prince, no matter whose body I have,” Arthur said angrily, turning to glare at the other young man. Merlin did not even flinch.
“Mentally, yes, but you know as well as I do that you’re not fully in control of that body yet. You misjudge distances, your movements are a lot slower… you go out there and she’ll kill you before you have a chance to do anything.” They stared at each other and Arthur could feel the anger pounding in his ears, but he could also feel the truth of what Merlin was saying. These hands were clumsy, his legs did not move like a trained fighter and he did not have time to beat the body into submission. But still…
“She wouldn’t…” he muttered under her breath. “It is not her destiny to kill me.” He had not intended for Merlin to overhear those words, echoed from the woman who stood over him as he clung to a ledge over a pit of darkness, but the curious look his manservant gave him showed that he had. “Enough…” he took a deep breath and grimaced as the next words came out of his mouth, “you’re right.” Merlin’s look of gobsmacked shock was almost enough to make agreeing with him more palatable. “But what else can we do?”
“We need a plan…” Gaius said, finally entering the conversation. “If my research is right then we do not need to face Nimueh at all, merely destroy the totem which controls the spell.”
“How do we do that?” Arthur asked without looking away from the door.
“From what I’ve read, fire should do the trick,” Gaius said. “But destroying the totem is not the problem… getting it is. We need to find it.”
“She’ll keep it on her,” Merlin said with a groan, his shoulders sagging in defeat. “So we will have to go up against her.”
“Brilliant,” Arthur said in exasperation, looking at Gaius with a long suffering grimace. “So we’re back at square one.”
“Not entirely, sire,” Gaius took a step forward. “I feel that it would be better if we had a strategy for getting the totem from her.”
“Which she’ll know we’re trying to do,” the Prince pointed out, “and she’ll counter our attempts to seize it.”
“I might have an idea…” Merlin said. Arthur just looked up at him, clearly unconvinced.
“You have a plan for going up against a powerful Sorceress?” he asked incredulously. “You can barely plan your day out.”
“That’s because every time I make a plan you add more things to my to do list that have to be done right then and everything gets delayed,” Merlin retorted, although he was only half paying attention. There was a look of concentration on his face that Arthur had rarely seen before. “But… I think it might work. I just have to…” He looked up and stared right at Arthur, blinking in shock, as though he had only just noticed that the Prince was there, which was a little insulting, given that he was the only one who could see Arthur as Arthur.
“Merlin?” Gaius asked, but the younger man did not look away from the Prince’s eyes. Arthur could almost see a war going on in his manservant’s mind, although he had no idea why. If the idiot had a plan, why did he not just spit it out so they could get on with it?
“I’ll have to ride out to where you saw the… where you two met,” Merlin said slowly.
“Well, we won’t be able to do that until tomorrow,” Arthur pointed out, gesturing to the small window which was already showing the signs of sunset. “We’ll set off at first light. What is this plan of yours anyway?”
“I’m still…” Merlin looked away, uncomfortably, “finalising the details.”
“Well finalise them quickly,” Arthur extended a hand and flexed it with a look of disgust. “This body is…” he paused. “We just need to be quick, that’s all.”
***
Percival stood before the King and tried his best not to cower. He was this man’s son, he was Crown Prince of Camelot, captain of the knights and… the King’s gaze made him feel less worthy than he ever had in his life. He had thought, at first, that Uther had realised that he was not Arthur, but as the conversation had continued he realised that this was how the King always spoke to his son. None of his ‘father’s’ attendants seemed confused by his harsh words, in fact, they all looked bored by the whole situation. It was as though this were a daily occurrence.
“You ran into a Sorcerer, you say?” the King asked, leaning forward in his seat, steepling his fingers together. The look in his eyes made Percival’s blood run cold. No wonder the Sorceress in the woods hated him; there was so much frozen malice in that look that Percival wanted to drag his gaze away. But he was not a cringing peasant anymore and he could not avert his gaze. He wanted to push that memory deep inside himself so that he would always know what madness looked like.
“In the woods, on my hunting trip,” Percival said, aware of how weak his story was. Going round and round in his mind were the words ‘him or me’ over and over again until they had barely any meaning left. Perhaps words wore out after a while: the more you used them the more meaningless they got until there was nothing there but noise. Maybe that happened with names as well. Was he Percival, was he Arthur? He wasn’t sure if even he knew that anymore.
Except he did. He wished he didn’t but he knew who he was. The real Arthur was out there somewhere and he was about to sign his death warrant.
“He swore vengeance on the Kingdom and then, before I could attack him, he vanished.” Somehow the polished tone of the Prince’s voice made the half-lie seem more believable. Uther straightened up again and set his shoulders. Around him advisers, knights and guards all watched carefully, although they all knew what was coming next.
“Magic is outlawed in Camelot,” the King intoned, his voice resonating through the great hall. “Search the city, find the sorcerer and escort him to the jail to await execution. The scourge of Sorcery will be extinguished from this land.” Percival bowed awkwardly, but Uther was too busy fuming to notice. Apparently the only thing that would distract him from the shortcomings of his son was the presence of magic. Percival shuddered a little as he turned to walk from the room, a party of knights and guards falling into step behind him. He was grateful that he had no father if that was what they were like: all criticism and hard words.
He gave a description to his search teams, who seemed to have done this so often that they did what they had to without question. He was both relieved and alarmed by the fact. How common an occurrence were allegations of Sorcery that the pursuit of magic users was such a well organised routine?
He tried to push the thoughts of execution from his head as they proceeded through the streets of Camelot. With any luck he would find Merlin during this search as well and then he could kill two birds with one stone.
How many times must Arthur, the real Arthur, have performed this task, pushing into people’s houses and going through their meagre things in an attempt to find a Sorcerer who might not even have existed? How many people had he led back to the chopping block? The thought made him feel a little sick. Maybe the Prince did deserve this, after all.
But then he remembered the King’s face in his mind and how the thought of saying no to those cold eyes was unthinkable. If the Prince felt like he did then… maybe he never wanted to do this either. Or perhaps he just followed orders like everyone else.
Some eyes were defiant when he walked into their houses; others bowed their heads in deference. Children were hugged to mother’s skirts and the elderly who had seen the law against Magic come and the world change, looked at him in judgement. He wanted to tell them that this was necessary, that if he found the Sorcerer - Arthur - then he would make sure that they never had to go through this again. He wanted to explain to them that his motives were reasonable. But deep in the back of his mind there was a small voice that still whispered ‘him or me’ and he knew the words would be pointless.
***
“What are you doing?” Merlin asked when he came into the bedroom.
“Going to bed,” the Prince responded, looking across at Merlin as though he was being more of an idiot than usual. “What does it look like?”
“It looks like you’re going to my bed…” Merlin replied. It was true. Arthur was sitting in his bed clothes on the side of Merlin’s small bed reaching out to extinguish the candle.
“Your point being?”
“It’s my bed…” Merlin said slowly. “As in mine… and it’s not big enough for two.”
“Sleep on the floor then,” Arthur said with a shrug. Merlin’s jaw dropped open, not that he should have been surprised at the development, and not that he had a problem with sleeping on the floor - before coming to Camelot he had never had a bed - but it was the principle of the thing.
“But it’s my bed,” he spluttered and Arthur shrugged with a grin.
“You’re my servant. As such you tend to my needs, and I need to sleep in a bed.”
“Go and sleep in Gaius’,” Merlin retorted without thinking. The pair of them paused and stared at each other for a moment, their faces twisting in expressions of distaste. “Fine, that’s a stupid idea, but I don’t see why I should be the one to sleep on the floor.”
“I’m the Prince,” Arthur said, as though that were the answer to every question in the universe. Merlin sometimes thought that Arthur really believed it was.
“And it’s my bed,” Merlin reiterated, hoping that if he just continued in the same vein for as long as possible Arthur would be forced to give in.
“Which you have been so very kind to give me use of for the night,” Arthur said, lying down in Merlin’s bed with a self-satisfied smirk.
“I said you could sleep up here, I did not say you could sleep in my bed,” Merlin protested, but his words fell on deaf ears as Arthur rolled over and closed his eyes.
“Good night, Merlin,” he said firmly, as though that ended the argument. Merlin, standing at the foot of the bed, folded his arms across his chest and glared at the seemingly peaceful form of the Prince. Sometimes he had no idea why he tried to save the prat’s life. Honestly, life would be a lot easier if he just let him die.
“Go to sleep, Merlin.” Arthur said, not opening his eyes. “I’m not moving, no matter how much you glare at me.” If he had opened his eyes he would have seen the grin spread slowly over Merlin’s face as he tiptoed to the side of the bed and leaned over. The Prince shifted a little, trying to get comfortable and Merlin took advantage of the movement to shove him swiftly and push him right off the bed.
Arthur landed in an undignified pile on the other side of the bed with a large thud and a startled yelp, and Merlin had snuck into the bed before the Prince had even worked out what had happened.
“Merlin!” Arthur growled, coming to his feet. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Going to sleep, what does it look like…”
“Get out of the bed.”
“It’s my bed.”
“Get out before I push you out,” Arthur threatened. Merlin just shot him an unimpressed look.
“That’s not exactly original, is it?” he said, stretching out in the bed with a yawn. Arthur’s eyes followed the rise and fall of his chest.
“I won’t sleep on the floor,” the Prince insisted, and Merlin wondered if Arthur realised just how much he sulked when things did not go his way, probably not, because Princes probably were not supposed to sulk like two year olds. “I know the kind of filth you live in. Who knows what’s down there.”
“I’m sure you can tell me in the morning,” Merlin replied with a smile, closing his eyes, but he had barely shut the lids when there was a rustle of blankets and the bed shifted under him. “Arthur - there’s not enough room,” he pointed out again as the Prince’s body came into contact with his all down his side. He felt Arthur shrug.
“It’s not like you’ve got any muscle to you,” the Prince said, shifting a little so he pushed Merlin over until the warlock felt as though he were teetering on the edge. “And if neither of us wants to sleep on the floor then this is the only way either of us is going to get any sleep.”
“Except I’m going to fall out if I breath in too much,” Merlin said irritably, pushing Arthur back until he felt more secure.
“Now I’m falling out!” Arthur said, flattening one arm over Merlin’s chest to grab onto him as he began to slip off the bed.
“Arthur…” Merlin hissed, “Let go… Arthur!” But his words did not good and the Prince only succeeded in pulling them both off the bed and onto the floor. He landed on top of Arthur, narrowly avoiding a knee to a rather sensitive part of his anatomy in the fall. The arm that Arthur had used to pull him over was wedged between them like a buffer making sure their upper bodies and heads did not crack together.
The pair of them stared at each other for a moment; their noses inches apart and Merlin could feel the amusement piling up inside of him. There was a very good chance that he was going to die tomorrow, one way or another, but for some reason that only made the situation funnier. Underneath him he could feel Arthur’s arm shaking with his ribcage as a smile spread across the Prince’s face.
“Merlin…” Arthur said with an exasperated smile, “Are you planning on getting off me any time soon?” That was all it took for Merlin to start laughing. It began as a chuckle, but soon his entire body was shaking with laughter, although part of that could have been from Arthur, who seemed to be caught up in the amusement of the situation himself.
Eventually Merlin managed to roll off Arthur so they were lying side by side, their bodies bumping together as they laughed. They were so caught up in their laughter, although Merlin could not quite remember what had been so funny - perhaps it had been the look on Arthur’s face as they fell, that neither of them noticed Gaius standing in the doorway until he cleared his throat loudly.
As soon as it had come, the laughter ended. Arthur pushed himself into a sitting position abruptly, trying to retain some shred of Princely dignity, but as soon as he saw the look on Gaius’ face all thoughts of dignity and laughter and sleep were gone. Merlin’s face fell as he took in the Physician’s expression. It was the kind of look Gaius only got when something had gone seriously wrong and someone, usually him, was going to have to sort it out.
“What is it?” Arthur asked, pulling himself to his feet and extending a hand to Merlin. His manservant took the hand gratefully and pulled himself up, looking back at Gaius.
“The Prince… the other Prince, is conducting a search for a sorcerer,” Gaius said solemnly.
“What sorcerer?” Arthur asked, “Is Camelot under threat?”
“You, sire…”
Merlin could feel the bottom of his stomach drop away as Gaius’ words sunk in. He had known that Arthur would have to be careful, but he had never expected that the imposter would be as open in his hunt. To have Arthur declared a sorcerer. Before, the situation had seemed amusing: no one was dead; there was just a slight mix up with faces. Certainly, he had been worried, and concerned, and he had been willing to go up against Nimueh in an attempt to get Arthur back, but of all the magical mishaps that had happened to the Prince, this had seemed the least dangerous.
Now they were facing the executioner’s axe.
“I have to leave,” Arthur said, grabbing his clothing from where he had let it fall earlier. He sat on the bed and started to pull it on.
“What?” Merlin said in alarm. “No… you can’t go out there. If they see you and catch you, they’ll kill you.”
“I’ll try and slip out of the gate without being seen. If I’m quick enough, I’ll be fine.”
“Arthur… stay. The entire city is looking for you.”
“If I’m found here,” Arthur said, pausing to look up at Merlin’s worried face with a sad smile. “Then they will execute all three of us. You cannot be found to be harbouring a sorcerer.” Merlin’s eyes slid to Gaius for a second, reminded of the troubles that the physician went to for him. Guilt rose inside him like bile. He put Gaius in danger every day by his mere existence, and now Arthur was leaving for just that reason. “I have to go, Merlin.” The Prince finished pulling on his boots and stood up, reaching out to rest a hand on Merlin’s arm. He looked Merlin in the eyes.
“If I get out, meet me on the North road, just over the hill, tomorrow and we’ll go up against Nimueh together. You could even tell me that plan of yours and I can point out all the flaws in it.”
“Arthur…”
“He’s right, Merlin,” Gaius said. Both young men turned to him, having almost forgotten he was there. “If all three of us are caught then there’s no way for us to set this right.”
Arthur nodded and strode to the door, passing Gaius with a grateful nod, gripping his fore arm in gratitude.
“My thanks,” he said solemnly. Merlin knew, even without being able to see, that the expression on his face would be the one he always put on before tournaments and when acceding to requests from his father that he did not agree with. It was blank and determined and Princely, and Merlin knew that underneath it all Arthur was full of rage and fear, not that he could ever show that. “You have always been of assistance to my family.”
“Sire,” Gaius said, acknowledging Arthur’s thanks with a nod of his head. The Prince released him and ran down the steps, Merlin following behind as quickly as he could.
“Arthur,” he said, trying to get between the Prince and the door, “think about this…”
“Make sure your plan works… I’m counting on it.”
“I’ll get you out of this, I promise,” Merlin assured him and he was relieved to see the Prince’s mouth quirk slightly towards a smile.
“For some reason, you don’t fill me with confidence,” Arthur sighed, “it had to be you, didn’t it?”
“If you’re going to go, you should go,” Merlin said, stepping away from the door and looking anywhere but at Arthur.
The Prince did not turn around again before leaving. The door shut behind him, leaving Gaius and Merlin staring at the wood with anxious faces.
“He’ll make it,” Merlin muttered to himself. “He’s got to make it. He’s Arthur.”
“You should go back to bed,” Gaius said, choosing not to comment on Merlin’s insistence. “If the Prince’s men find us up, they will ask questions.”
He walked over and gently pulled Merlin away from the door and gave him a small shove towards his room.
Neither of them spoke as they went back to their rooms. Merlin lay down in the bed that suddenly felt too big and stared at the ceiling. He listened for the sounds of Arthur being caught frantically as he lay there but he heard nothing. He should have been relieved, but there was no knock on the door either. The search had not come to them yet.
He drew in a deep breath and held it for a moment as there was a muted sound of voices, but he did not recognise them. Then, just as he was relaxing there came a yell.
Merlin sat bolt upright in the bed and stared out of the window, trying to see any sign at all of what was going on, but all he had to go on was that one word: ‘stop’.
***
On to Chapter 7
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