Fic: The Dragon Within ~ Part 4 [PG-13] Merlin/Arthur

[gfeather]

Arthur might admit, very reluctantly and only to himself, that he had not been an entirely pleasant person to be around in the past few weeks. He had pushed himself hard, attempting to lessen the burdens placed on the king and keep watch on the situation. He had participated in councils and audiences, attended meals in the hall more than he ever had, and continued pushing his knights as hard as ever. He had a clearer picture than ever before of the precarious position Camelot was in, but even though he fell in bed utterly spent at the end of each day, it was still easier to delay the inevitable than to face it.

Throughout all this, Merlin had been his shadow, and for the most part, he had been an amiable shadow. Unlike some of his knights and councillors, Merlin hadn’t spent weeks giving him meaningful glances or thinly veiled conversational gambits in the hopes of hurrying him into action. There had been some complaining, which was usual and token at best, but even though the dark circles beneath Merlin’s eyes had not faded for weeks, his spirits hadn’t faltered. Until now.

The manservant who trailed along behind him the past two days was like a black cloud instead of a shadow. Merlin had looked very tired yesterday morning, but that wasn’t unusual as of late. However, Merlin’s entire demeanor was different. His eyes were downcast. His expression was blankly miserable. His shoulders were slumped. His movements were almost painfully slow. Merlin’s spark was gone.

Arthur did his best to ignore the abject misery Merlin radiated, but only lasted until drill the second day. After the knights had cleared the field, Arthur gave in and asked, “What’s wrong with you?”

Merlin didn’t react with his usual indignant squawk, which troubled Arthur even more. Instead he gave a barely perceptible shake of his head and said, “Nothing. Would you like a bath drawn before supper tonight?”

Arthur stepped in close and lifted Merlin’s face with a finger under his chin until he had to meet Arthur’s eyes. “You’ve hardly spoken since yesterday morning, which in itself is cause for concern, while moping along behind me with a face as long as a wet week. Is the injury to your back causing you grief again?”

Merlin scowled and stepped back out of Arthur’s reach. “No.”

“Then what is the problem?”

“I’m tired, alright. I’m tired. You’re tired. Everyone is tired.”

“That may be true, but when you’re tired you complain more, not less, so that can’t be it.”

“Yes, it can, and it is. Now, do you want a full bath, or will a basin of water suit your highness’ needs?”

Arthur frowned and continued to watch Merlin intently, but when nothing else was forthcoming, he said, “A basin will suffice. The mail will keep for another day, but my sword needs tending. When you’re finished in the armoury, you can take the evening for yourself.”

Merlin’s scowl deepened and he snatched the sword from the rack where Arthur had placed it at the end of drill. “I wasn’t angling for the night off. I will be there to serve.”

Arthur was about to insist, but Merlin spun on his heel and stalked off the field. Watching him go, Arthur wondered what on earth was bothering Merlin and why he refused to speak his mind as he nearly always did. Arthur didn’t like this mournful, distant Merlin. It was too much like a mirror for comfort.



He had known Arthur had noticed his foul mood since the unpleasant parting with Kilgharrah, but Merlin felt a surge of resentment towards Arthur for calling attention to it. He had blithely ignored Arthur’s strange moods for weeks now, why couldn’t the prat extend the same courtesy to him? He should have just accepted the night off and returned to his room to get a proper night’s sleep for the first time in ages, but it wasn’t just spite and pride that had him straightening up enough to serve in hall before dragging himself up the stairs to Arthur’s chambers to help him dress.

Despite his foul mood, Merlin had felt the urgent need to be at Arthur’s side tugging at him. He wanted to resist it, to hide himself away and rail against dragons and destiny and bizarre magical inheritances, but the pull was strong. Also, several parts of him didn’t want to resist. The part of him that had slowly grown to like Arthur after over a year in his service wanted to stay close. The part of him that had faced down bandits and monsters and sorceresses needed to be at Arthur’s side. The part of him which had become ridiculously fond of the Arthur that used his own hands to rebuild a broken city and to prop up a broken king was restless with anxiety whenever they were parted. His growing connection with Kilgharrah had masked these feelings considerably. Odd as it might seem for such a cryptic being, his relationship with the dragon was relatively simple. With Arthur, however, things had always been complicated.

When Merlin arrived before dinner, Arthur was already scrubbed and mostly dressed. He appeared to be debating the merits of two jackets when Merlin quietly closed the door and coughed.

Arthur’s expression and voice were tight. “You have the night off. There are others who can serve.”

It felt like a stinging slap in the face, although Merlin knew it shouldn’t. He should feel grateful. Instead he felt rejected. He had no place now, except at Arthur’s side, and even though his wing nubs itched for the freedom of the sky after less than two days confinement, Merlin knew he needed to be here. Be it destiny, or sentimentality, or even spite, he needed to be here infinitely more than he needed to be holed up in his room alone and utterly miserable.

Ignoring Arthur’s words, Merlin said, “The one with the brass buttons is tight across your shoulders and you always spend the entire time fidgeting when you wear it. The one with silver buttons is more comfortable to sit in for a long meal.”

“It’s not a long, formal banquet tonight, Merlin.”

Merlin stepped forward and took the two jackets from Arthur. He tossed one over the back of a chair and held the other up for Arthur to put on. Arthur paused, looking at him intently for a long moment, before slipping it on. Merlin fussed with it for a minute, making sure it sat on his shoulders properly and fastened the buttons and ties.

When he deemed Arthur presentable, Merlin stepped back and nodded. Arthur pressed his lips together firmly, the corners of his mouth tugging down in a frown and said, “I would do whatever I could to fix whatever is troubling you if only I knew what it was.”

Merlin shook his head ruefully. “There’s nothing to fix.”

“Don’t,” Arthur said sharply. “Don’t keep telling me that nothing is wrong. I may not be the most astute observer of those around me, but I think I’ve spent quite enough time in your company to notice when something is gravely amiss.”

“You can’t fix this, Arthur.”

“You can’t fix my father, and yet I’m grateful to you for listening to my troubles and offering what assistance you can, even though it is all a futile attempt to hold off the inevitable.”

“Please, just let it go. It will be fine. I will be fine. Just please...” Merlin said, feeling a lump in his throat and desperately wanting to turn away from the earnest blue eyes that observed him far too closely.

Arthur held him in his gaze for a seemingly unending moment, then broke the moment by looking away. Turning to head for the door, Arthur said, “Let’s go and see if we can mitigate the damage of tonight’s public spectacle.”

Still feeling wretched, but purpose driven, Merlin followed Arthur without a word.



Upon entering the hall, Arthur was somewhat startled to see most of the nobles at court assembled for the meal. The Harvest Feasts his father always held in place of Samhain were still two weeks away, and though he anticipated new faces at court before then, he was unaware of any reason why all of the courtiers would choose to attend supper tonight.

Close behind him, he heard Merlin whisper, “Why’s everyone here?”

“No idea,” Arthur said under his breath, then straightened his shoulders and walked purposefully towards the high table.

His father was not there yet, though that wasn’t unusual. Uther preferred to make an entrance rather than watch the court assemble. Arthur often thought he missed out a great deal of the significant interactions on the occasions when he entered with his father. People were less guarded before formal speeches and after imbibing too much wine. He preferred coming early rather than staying late when he could.

Sitting at the raised table at the front, Arthur scanned the room, comforted by the increasingly alert presence of Merlin behind him. Upset or not, Merlin could be counted on to be attentive to the goings on in the room. Hopefully, he would have the opportunity to pick up some gossip from the other serving staff when the wine was poured for speeches and toasts. Glancing around as casually as he could, Arthur saw several councillors seated together deep in conversation, various noblemen gathered in small groups chatting casually, and a few ladies hovering about a table where nearly all his knights were seated. Near the front of the knight’s table, Leon and Bedivere sat looking far less relaxed than men sitting down to an evening meal should be, even if it was a formal meal. Leon caught his eye and scanned across the room meaningfully. Arthur had the unnerving feeling that something was about to happen, and Leon felt it too.

After a few minutes of anxious waiting, the noise in the hall died down and the king was announced. Everyone in the hall stood, and Uther strode into the room practically radiating displeasure. When he reached the head table and sat, the court took their seats as well and servants began scurrying about the tables pouring wine for the opening toasts.

Arthur turned his head slightly towards his father and gave a half nod. “Good evening.”

Uther’s serious face turned to a frown as he handed Arthur a letter. “Read it.”

Unfolding the parchment, Arthur quickly scanned the contents.

To my King and Dearest Friend Uther,
Summer has passed far too quickly for my liking this year and it is with both pleasure and sorrow that I prepare to send my Most Treasured and Only Daughter, Elena, to your Court for the winter months, as we discussed earlier this year. She is clever, but also headstrong, much as I am myself. It is my greatest hope that your Beautiful and Charming Ward, Lady Morgana, may instill in her some of the Courtly Graces which she has not had opportunity to learn on my humble estate. I am loathe to be parted from her, and this winter will feel like a lifetime without her company, but I can think of None Better to entrust with her Safety and Virtue. May she be a Ray of Sunshine in your Court as she is in My Heart. Expect her retinue’s arrival in advance of the Harvest Feast.
Your Most Humble and Obedient Servant,
Lord Godwin

Arthur looked up from the letter to see Merlin carefully pouring wine into their goblets. Their eyes met briefly, speaking volumes without a single word. Bare seconds of communication with the other servants had confirmed their concerns. This night would not end well.

Arthur glanced over at his father’s darkening countenance. He wondered if it was the mention of Morgana that had Uther in such a foul mood, but surely he’d be more sad than angry if that were the case. Lord Godwin clearly didn’t know that Morgana was missing. If he did, he would have sent condolences, not an announcement of his daughter’s travel plans. Lord Godwin loved his daughter deeply and would likely have cancelled her visit if he felt Camelot were in any way unsafe for her. He couldn’t remember much about Elena herself. She had been ten or eleven and he fifteen the last time they had met. All he could recall of her was a gawky child more interested in riding horses and playing with the hunting dogs than in fussing with hair and dresses. Actually, if she were anything like that still, it might have been rather amusing to see how she and Morgana got on. The thought made him feel another pang of sadness at the empty chair to the left of Uther. Even without calling attention to it, Morgana’s absence was as palpable as her presence had been.

Refolding the parchment, Arthur set the letter on the table beside his father’s place setting. Uther looked at it in distaste and said, “Our enemies ever seek ways into our stronghold. We must stop reacting to their moves and anticipate them instead.”

Arthur’s brow furrowed and he felt the unforgettable sensation of dread settle cold and heavy in the pit of his stomach. “Sire?”

Uther ignored him and rose to speak.

“For years Camelot has faced many foes. Countless enemies who, in their jealousy and avarice, have sought to destroy the goodness she radiates and take for themselves her bountiful riches. Ever have I been vigilant against attacks both from outsiders as well as traitors from within. Once again, Camelot is faced with a traitor who would use one hand to steal the greatest treasure of our kingdom and with the other seek to replace it with his own.”

Arthur’s eyes flicked to the letter and felt his mouth fall open in shock and horror at the words that fell from Uther’s lips.

“A man who was once a trusted member of this court has betrayed me. Godwin has kidnapped Lady Morgana and holds her captive while sending his own child as a spy to infiltrate our court. He has proven himself a traitor and must be captured and brought to face judgement. I call upon the knights of Camelot to fulfill your oaths and march on his estate. Bring him and his household to me and rescue the Lady Morgana.”

There was a long moment of utter silence when the king had finished speaking. Everyone stared at Uther completely agog, unable to believe what had just been said.

Without any conscious thought, Arthur got to his feet and drew himself to his full height. Looking his father directly in the eyes, he did not see a rational man or even the absent minded man that had become all too familiar to him over the past weeks. He saw a mad man. The time had come.

“No,” Arthur said quietly, but firmly enough to be heard throughout the room.

Uther’s eyes flashed with rage. “You would defy me? You are no better than a traitor yourself.”

“You are not yourself. Lord Godwin has always been your greatest friend and ally. There is no evidence to suggest otherwise.”

“He has Morgana!” Uther screeched.

“Morgana was kidnapped by the sorceress Morgause.”

“He paid her to do so. He used witchcraft to steal Morgana away from me, so he could place his daughter on the throne of Camelot.”

“Can’t you hear your words? They are not words of wisdom and rationality. I miss Morgana too, and I want nothing more than to find her and bring her home. But making groundless accusations does nothing to help her and acting on them will only garner Camelot more enemies.”

“Traitor! You are in league with him too. I see it clearly now. Sir Hector, Sir Leon, arrest him!”

Everyone in the hall stared as the two knights stood and walked calmly up to the head table. Neither man drew his sword, though some of the knights still seated were reaching for their weapons. Bedivere, although he had not been called, was halfway out of his seat, ready to throw himself forward.

Sir Hector stood directly in front of Uther, held his gaze for a brief moment, then turned to address Arthur. “What would you have us do, your Highness?”

A howl of rage erupted from Uther, and Arthur nearly fell over his chair when Merlin yanked him back as Uther lunged at him. Uther landed hard on the ground and Leon and Hector were able to restrain him quickly, while the table of knights sprang up from their seats and formed a barrier between the assembled court and the high table. Merlin stood at Arthur’s side with a steadying hand, but had the gall to position himself slightly in front of him.

As Uther screamed and struggled against the restraining arms of Hector and Leon, now aided by Bedivere, Arthur spoke as calmly and clearly as he could over the noise. “Confine him to his chambers and aid the physician should he need to be restrained for treatment.”

“Yes, Sire,” said Hector, with Leon and Bedivere nodding their acknowledgment.

Uther continued to scream, “Traitors! Conspirators! Usurpers!” as he was lead from the room.

When the door closed, every face in the hall turned towards Arthur expectantly.

Arthur swallowed hard and said, “The king is unwell. He has been unwell for many weeks now. It was my hope that the care he was receiving from our court physician would have allowed him to continue leading Camelot with the great care and diligence he has shown for so many years. Sadly, it now seems apparent that is not the case. In my father’s indisposition, I claim the right as crown prince to act as regent, until he is well again. Lords and ladies of the court, councillors, knights and servants of Camelot, we are a strong people. We have faced the trials of misfortune and we have overcome them. The great dragon himself has assaulted our battlements, yet we have emerged the stronger. Today, I once again call upon you, the people of Camelot, to be the strong and loyal people I care for and respect.”

Arthur paused, struggling to think of what else he might say to mitigate the damage done to Camelot’s political position by Uther’s ravings, when a voice at the back of the room shouted, “Hail, Prince Arthur!”

A moment later, several more voices joined in. “Hail, Prince Arthur!”

The knights who had formed a barrier between him and the room parted and those seated at their tables lifted their untouched wine goblets and chorused, “Hail, Prince Arthur!”

Arthur was startled by their fervour. He held up a hand and the room fell into silence. “Your support will be much appreciated in the days to come. Tonight I ask that you enjoy your meal and take your rest.”

The room burst into noisy chatter as Arthur walked away from the head table, through the centre aisle and out the large doors at the end of the hall. Merlin followed him, not half a step behind, his long legs matching Arthur’s stride. As they took to the first staircase, Arthur said, “Gaius?”

“Already sent for. He’s probably there already,” Merlin replied.

At the top of the stairs, Arthur paused and put a hand on Merlin’s shoulder. “Thank you.”

“For what?” Merlin asked.

“For being at my side, even when things go horribly wrong.”

“Where else would I be?” Merlin said with a half shrug that belied the seriousness in his eyes.

Arthur squeezed Merlin’s shoulder, noticing the way Merlin was nearly vibrating with tension and let go. “I don’t know, but I’m glad you’re here.”

Arthur turned down the corridor that lead to the royal chambers, feeling marginally better knowing whatever he would face he would do so with Merlin’s support.



By the time Merlin stumbled back to his room, it felt like his entire back was spasming. From the moment Uther had turned his rage on Arthur, it had been all he could do to keep his wings contained. He wondered at this instinctive reaction. Considering how large his wings were, they seemed like they would be in the way during a confrontation, but the tingling of the nubs and the twitching of his muscles made it clear that his wings had other ideas about their usefulness. He had listened to Kilgharrah tell countless stories about Dragonlords with manifest wings. However, none of them had mentioned the urgent desire to shield with them. To a being that could breathe fire, using something as flimsy as wings for protection would likely seem foolish. Merlin couldn’t deny the impulse though. When he was alone, he felt safe and secure in the shelter of his wings and he wished that drawing Arthur into that sheltered space could protect him too, foolish as the thought seemed to him now.

Once his door was closed, Merlin tugged himself free of his shirt and jacket, dropping them to the ground as his wings unfurled more noisily than usual. He had to be careful in this small space not to knock things over as he had the first day, but with a bit of bending and stretching the tension in his back dissipated. It felt so good, he decided to sleep with his wings out, hoping that it might make the long hours of the day more comfortable tomorrow. As long as no one else tried to physically attack Arthur.

He had just gotten comfortable and closed his eyes when there was a knock on his door. Bolting upright, he yanked hard on the thread of magic that pulled his wings in and fumbled around of the floor for his shirt to cover the nubs. He was struggling with the shirt that seemed entirely without sleeves when he heard Gaius’ voice.

“Are you alright, Merlin?”

Merlin let out a heavy sigh of relief. “Yes. I’m fine.”

Gaius opened the door and sat down on the single low stool in the room. “You seemed to be in discomfort while we tended to Uther.”

Dragging the shirt off once more, he extended his wings and let out a small hum. “When he kept lunging at people, before he was sedated, it made me very... twitchy.”

“Your wings reacted to his anger?” Gaius asked in surprise.

Merlin shook his head. “It was more the overwhelming urge to use them as a shield.”

“Hmmm. If they are, as you say, more closely related to your magic than your body, it isn’t unreasonable that you would think to use them in the same way. You are very adept at creating barriers of nothing but magic.”

Merlin was suddenly drawn back to the first night in the clearing with Kilgharrah when the dragon had blown smoke at him and he had blocked it without thinking. His wings had been so foreign to him then that they hadn’t so much as twitched, but now he could feel them moving automatically at the memory.

He was about to say something about Kilgharrah, but the words caught in his throat. Merlin hadn’t discussed his nocturnal wanderings with Gaius any more than he had while the dragon was chained beneath the castle. He figured Gaius knew there had been more than one trip to the clearing, but Merlin was reluctant to share them and Gaius hadn’t asked. The time he had spent with Kilgharrah, the stories he had been told, they were history of a people who kept to themselves. He felt badly for not telling his mentor, but even though Gaius was like a father to him, more of a father than Balinor could ever have been, it felt wrong to let the words escape.

Merlin said nothing of Kilgharrah and made a show of flexing his wings. “I’ve been working to keep the wings retracted for longer lately. That probably added to the twitchiness. Letting them stretch made me feel better right away.”

“It has been a trying evening for all of us.”

“I miss Morgana,” Merlin blurted as his mind landed on the hair trigger that had set Uther off. “I felt so terrible for her, watching her dreams get worse, seeing her scared, and doing nothing.”

Gaius nodded. “I regret that I could not do more for her.”

“If I had told her, maybe...”

“It was too great a risk, for both of you.”

“Would her ignorance have protected her from Uther?” Merlin asked, and wondered if discovering that Morgana had magic would have caused the same downward spiral in Uther that her absence had.

“Her ignorance allowed Uther’s suspicions to be deflected many times. Your closeness with her was always a greater risk to you than it was to her,” said Gaius.

“I only ever wanted to help her, but I ended up poisoning her instead. I should have been able to find a way to stop the magic she was using.”

“She chose her path, Merlin.”

“Did she?” Merlin stared off into space and shook his head. “I know there were many times when she was angry to the point of wanting Uther dead, but more recently she was different. Perhaps it was the Crystal... I saw things in it and everything I did seemed to push me towards them playing out. If she tried using it, maybe she saw something that changed her.”

“She stole the Crystal of Neahtid with the knowledge it would be used to overthrow not just Uther but the whole of Camelot,” Gaius observed.

“That’s what doesn’t make sense. She knew they intended to kill Arthur as well. I know they always bickered, but she was always protective of him, too.”

“Clearly that has changed.”

“I never wanted to hurt her, but I gave her the poison to save everyone else. Nothing else could have made me do it,” Merlin said and looked directly at Gaius, willing him to understand. “It had to have been something big for her to accept everyone’s death, including Arthur’s and Gwen’s, as necessary.”

“You are motivated by the love you feel for others. I fear that Morgana’s motivations have always been a good deal less pure. She carries a great deal of anger in her heart. It is the emotion that comes easiest to her,” Gaius said sadly.

“If I’d been able to command Kilgharrah then, perhaps I could have done things differently. I could have stopped Morgause without bargaining with Morgana’s life.”

Gaius sighed heavily and leaned forward, resting his folded hands between his knees. “It may be little comfort, but I have no doubt that Morgause is highly skilled in the brewing of poisons and their antidotes.”

“Do you think she’s still alive?” Merlin asked.

“There is no way to know for certain, but if Morgause was able to stop the poison, Morgana would be long recovered by now.”

“Do you suppose they’re hiding away at that old castle where Arthur and I met her before? The path we used to get there had vanished, so they would be well hidden there.”

Gaius shrugged. “I’m afraid I know little of Morgause’s motivations other than her desire to overthrow Uther. She was trained by the High Priestesses of the Old Religion but they did not all share the same vision of the future.”

“Did she learn from Nimueh?”

“I expect she studied with her for a time.”

“It’s odd, but I can’t picture her at the Isle of the Blessed,” Merlin said, shaking his head. “Even at the abandoned castle, she didn’t seem to belong there. She’s too good with a sword to have spent a long time in solitude. She must have trained with someone somewhere.”

“There are many enemies of Camelot who would be eager to aid her. I’ve heard plenty of rumours in recent years of a sorcerer at Cenred’s court,” said Gaius

Merlin frowned at him. “But I had to hide back in Ealdor. Cenred had a ban on magic too.”

“Banning the use of magic by the general population and banning magic from the kingdom are two very different things. Many kings find the talents of a court sorcerer valuable, though they do not want the peasants having such power.”

“Cenred doesn’t want the peasants having much of anything,” Merlin muttered, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and staring at the rough wood of the floorboards. “If Morgause is supporting Cenred, and word of Uther’s health reaches him, he could have an army ready to march in under a week.”

“If he thinks he can take Camelot without a prolonged battle, he might,” Gaius said, pursing his lips in thought. “I doubt that Morgause would have fled directly to him, however. The magic needed to transport someone as she did requires a tremendous amount of power and is difficult over great distances. The abandoned castle is much closer and would allow them both the chance to recover.”

“So they might still be there.”

“They might. Though I suspect you’re right to think they won’t remain there too long. If nothing else, they would not spend a winter there,” Gaius said, then yawned widely and got to his feet. “However, I will save my pondering on the matter for the morning.”

“Goodnight Gaius,” Merlin said, stretching out on his front and letting his wings tuck in against his back.

“Goodnight,” Gaius said, and shuffled out of the room, shutting the door as he left.



The shocking thing Arthur discovered about becoming regent in an official capacity was that it actually lessened his workload. Instead of having to work twice as hard to keep the kingdom running while his father became less and less capable of ruling, problems were resolved far more efficiently when they could be brought to him directly. Council sessions became far shorter and more efficient and there was a palpable sense of relief among the councillors. The transition of power went so smoothly that the ease of it was almost troubling.

He had plenty of other things to worry about, however. His father continued to go through violent mood swings which were increasingly upsetting to witness. He never knew when the distant man lost in the past would become aware of the present and once more scream venomous words of traitor and usurper at him. Arthur knew it had needed to be done. He had known for weeks. That didn’t make the reality of it any easier. His father had always been stern and a bit cold, but there was usually an accord between them. He missed friendly conversation with someone he trusted implicitly.

And so he talked to Merlin instead.

He supposed travelling so much with Merlin was what had started it. Long hours of riding were dull without someone to talk to, and Merlin had never had the restraint of other servants. He would fill their days in the saddle with idle chatter about everything and nothing. At first Arthur had been annoyed and even angry at the lack of propriety, but it did make his days more interesting. Now, in the absence of both Morgana and his father, he fell into conversation with Merlin more readily than ever. Merlin was always there.

Sitting down to the first private supper since the night Uther had lost all sense in front of the entire assembled court, Arthur looked at Merlin puttering around the room and frowned.

“Sit down, Merlin.”

Merlin turned and looked at him in confusion. “What?”

Arthur gestured to a chair. “Stop working and come have a seat.”

“Is something wrong, Arthur?”

“Yes.”

Merlin dropped the shirt he had been picking up off the floor and hurried over to the table. “What is it?”

“I would like have a conversation with someone who doesn’t have a hidden agenda,” Arthur explained. “As you’ve brought more than enough food for three people, you are welcome to join me.”

“Are you certain you haven’t taken leave of your senses too?”

“Not funny, Merlin.”

“Alright, alright,” Merlin said, dropping down into a chair and surveying the food on the table seriously.

Arthur shook his head. “Eat whatever you’d like. Seriously.”

Merlin took a roll and began stuffing it with meat, still eyeing Arthur dubiously. “So what makes you so certain I don’t have a hidden agenda?”

“It’s the hidden part. If you want something, you say it outright. You have no idea how rare that is,” Arthur observed, and was a bit startled by his own sincerity.

Merlin just shrugged. “How is anyone supposed to know what you want if you don’t tell them?”

“Subtlety and tact are completely lost on you.”

“Not completely. I just don’t have much patience for beating around the bush. I can be tactful when I want to be.”

“When exactly has that ever happened?”

“Did I say anything about regency after that meeting with Leon and Bedivere?”

Arthur’s smirk disappeared. “No. You were the only one who didn’t try to push me.”

“I knew you would deal with it when you needed to.”

“I made your life hell for weeks.”

Merlin let out a small burst of laughter. “No, hell was the first month I worked for you. This past month doesn’t even compare.”

“The dark circles under your eyes tell me you’re lying,” Arthur said, gesturing with his eating knife.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were worried about me,” Merlin teased.

Arthur snorted. “As if I would worry about a servant.”

Merlin’s grin softened into a fond smile. “I know you do.”

There was an awkward silence, and Arthur busied himself with his food. The wind picked up outside and rattled at the windows. Merlin got up and put more wood on the fire, though the wind only made it sound colder than it was. When he sat down at the table again, his eyes drifted to the window.

“I think winter will come early this year.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow in curiosity. “What makes you say that?”

“The winds have come up earlier and the air is already heavy.”

“The harvest was very good this year. Even if the winter is harsh, the people should do well.”

“So long as Morgause decides to lay low,” Merlin said under his breath.

“Morgause? What has you thinking about her?”

Merlin startled and looked flustered, as if he hadn’t meant to say those words aloud. “It’s nothing. I was just wondering about Morgana.”

“I wish we could find her too.”

“I think they might still be hiding at that old castle, but if they are they won’t stay there much longer,” Merlin said with a frown and a shake of the head.

“We looked for that place and couldn’t find it.”

Merlin rolled his eyes. “Of course we couldn’t. Morgause didn’t want us to.”

Arthur hadn’t considered just how much Morgause was capable of, beyond the obvious, but the idea that she could keep something as big as a castle hidden was unsettling. He frowned. “So there isn’t anything we can do.”

“Not while they stay in one place. We might be able to track them when they move though.”

“If, by ‘we,’ you mean I would be able to track them, then yes. Getting Morgana away would still be problematic. Morgause proved herself a skilled sorceress with the enchanted knights.”

“And that’s stopped you before?”

“There’s more at stake now. I want to rescue Morgana and I want to stop Morgause, but I can’t leave Camelot without a ruler,” Arthur pointed out. “It pains me to say it, but I do need to be more careful now. When do you think Morgause is most likely to move?”

“The entire kingdom will be busy with celebrations in a week, won’t they? It seems like that’d be a good time to travel unnoticed,” Merlin said with a shrug.

“There’s only one problem, Merlin.”

“What’s that?”

“I need to be here, hosting those celebrations.”

A sly smile spread across Merlin’s lips and he said, “No you don’t. You need to be travelling through the kingdom showing the people that they’re safe under your rule.”

Arthur shook his head. “That will mean an entourage. Not exactly stealthy, Merlin.”

“But for your safety your movements should be kept quiet, shouldn’t they? The people know you from patrols, not fancy processions with dozens of attendants. A big group might make people nervous,” Merlin said with a very fake smile.

“A standard patrol usually has four to six knights. The council won’t like it, but we could travel fairly discreetly with that few. I’ll talk to Leon. He’s rather talented at presenting an idea to councillors and making them believe it was theirs.”

“Then all we have to do is figure out the route Morgause is most likely to travel,” Merlin teased.

“Nothing impossible then,” Arthur teased back. It wasn’t much of a plan, and it didn’t have much chance of success, but it felt good to be trying it all the same.



Masterpost | Part 3 | Part 5