Archive of Our Own

They were sitting on the ground, leaning against a bench. Merlin was fairly sure they'd been sitting on the bench to start with, but he couldn't remember when the ground had seemed a better bet. He stared into the shifting embers of the Beltane fire, which Arthur had jumped, alone, earlier in the evening when the flames were highest, and tried to remember. Arthur had spent the rest of the evening alternately boasting about his feat and encouraging Merlin to emulate it. Merlin's mother had never let him jump the fire and something inside Merlin knew that it was a very bad idea, even if he was a little bit tempted, so he pretended to be drunker than he really was.

"And," he'd said to Arthur, leaning on him a little more heavily than was really required, even for feigning inebriation, "you know I'd fall over my own feet and end up face down in the flames."

Arthur had laughed and steered them over to sit on the bench they were now leaning against. He hadn't stopped Merlin drinking though; had filled Merlin's mug every time he had filled his own. Now they were sort of slumped against each other, almost hidden by the shadows. Around them, Merlin could hear other couples, actual couples, celebrating Beltane. He turned his head cautiously, torn between hoping he would be able to see something and hoping he wouldn't.

Next to him, Arthur stirred, shifting slightly so he was not leaning quite so heavily on Merlin but not moving far enough to separate them.

"Even you could jump that fire," said Arthur drowsily. Despite himself, Merlin began to giggle, and that was probably to blame for what happened next. Arthur started laughing too and the next thing Merlin knew, he was being dragged to his feet.

"Come on, up and over we go!" Arthur said. Merlin was still laughing, whole body shaking, and he slung an arm over Arthur's shoulders as Arthur grabbed him around the waist and began to pull him towards the flames.

"Come on, jump!" Arthur said and by then Merlin had no choice but to close his eyes and do as he was told.

*

Nothing happened. They landed unsteadily; Arthur laughing like a loon and saying something uncomplimentary about Merlin's landing skills.

"You idiot!" Merlin retorted. "We've just jumped as a couple! I'm really not sure I like you that much!"

"I jumped before, so I'm sure it cancels out," Arthur said, still laughing. "Now, more drink?" and Merlin sighed, an uneasy feeling in his stomach and the desire to drink and laugh pretty much completely extinguished. Undaunted, Arthur dragged him in the direction of beer, and Merlin took the offered mug and drank deeply. He didn't feel any different.

*

Merlin woke up the next morning to the sound of Arthur throwing up into the chamber pot. Having never before witnessed Arthur throwing up, he wasn't sure how he recognised this sound with his eyes closed, but he did. He seemed to be on the floor, but it felt strangely soft. Putting his hand over his mouth as a precautionary measure, Merlin sat up slowly and looked around. Arthur's room. It made sense. Now that he thought about it, he did seem to remember the stairs (they had caused them some problems) and almost dropping Arthur on the bed. He'd probably meant to go back to his own room at that point, but he'd obviously not succeeded because he'd been sleeping on the hearthrug. Arthur was hanging over the other side of the bed, above the chamber pot. As Merlin watched, Arthur sat up cautiously, looking pale and sweaty.

"You look dreadful," Merlin said cheerfully, once he was sure that his own stomach was not going to rebel. Arthur coughed wetly and gave him a look which was clearly intended as a glare but fell far short of the mark.

"You must have done something to my drinks," he said, falling back limply onto the bed. "It's the only way I'd be unwell if you're not."

"Nope," Merlin said. He stood up cautiously and headed for the water jug, drinking a generous helping before taking some to Arthur, who sipped at it feebly before giving it back to Merlin and lying down again, shutting his eyes. Merlin put it within easy reach and went to dispose of the contents of the chamber pot.

*

Chamber pot clean, he returned it to Arthur's bedside, getting a mumbled comment from Arthur that could almost have been thanks if it hadn't been accompanied by an uncomplimentary hand gesture.

Deciding not to risk Arthur's wrath by tidying up his rooms whilst he was not only still in them but also hung over, and lacking in actual official instruction of other jobs, Merlin made his way back to his own room. Gaius was in the main chamber, concocting something which was mostly likely a hangover cure.

"You're looking surprisingly well," Gaius said, sounding suspicious. "I wasn't expecting you to be walking around."

"I feel fine," Merlin said, then, when Gaius raised an eyebrow, "in a tired, kind of half-drunk way."

"How's Prince Arthur?" Gaius asked.

"Throwing up," Merlin said. "I should probably take him something."

"Arthur is vomiting but you're fine?" Gaius said. "What have you been up to?"

"Being sensible?" said Merlin hopefully.

Gaius looked at him and Merlin smiled.

"I'll just drink some water and get that tonic up to the prince."

The concoction revived Arthur slightly, but an hour after he'd drunk it he went back to sleep. He looked as though he'd sleep until suppertime so Merlin took full advantage of that fact to have a lazy day. He was late with Arthur's supper, having fallen asleep himself, but as Arthur only picked at the food and Merlin wound up eating most of it in order not it waste it, he didn't worry too much.

Arthur didn't seem himself until the next morning, at which point he took full revenge on Merlin for his demeanour the day before by assigning him all the dirtiest and most difficult work he could find.

"Oh, and I'll be training with the knights this afternoon so I'll need you to see to my armour afterwards."

"After you've trained?" Merlin said, thinking of the huge list of things he already had to do. "That'll take me all night!"

"Yes Merlin, it may, but as you had the day off yesterday, I think you owe me some time." Merlin gave him a killer glare and stalked off to begin his chores, Arthur's laughter ringing in his ears.

By the end of the day, Merlin ached all over, and even the fact that Arthur had clearly overdone it with the training and so ached just as much didn't make his mood any better. Merlin served him his evening meal in sulky silence and escaped at the first opportunity.

The next day was gloriously sunny, a beautiful May morning, and Merlin couldn't keep up his grudge. In fact, he was in such a good mood he starting singing as he walked to Arthur's rooms, and Arthur, instead of yelling at him as he had done the last time Merlin did that, just looked amused. Merlin distinctly heard him humming the song when he came back lugging the bath water.

"What are your plans for the day?" Merlin asked once Arthur was safely installed in his bath.

"Nothing overly energetic," Arthur said. "A council meeting later this morning and I think I might give you some sword practice this afternoon."

"You said nothing energetic!" Merlin said.

"And for me, it won't be," Arthur said with a smug grin. "Now Merlin," he said as Merlin opened his mouth to argue, "you know that you need the practice."

"Why would I ever need to use a sword when I never go anywhere without you or a whole troupe of knights?" Merlin said, laying out Arthur's clothes for the day.

"You can't call them a troupe. Makes them sound like travelling minstrels," Arthur said. "Pass me that towel, would you?"

Merlin swallowed, and passed Arthur the towel before finding completely vital things to do over on the other side of the room while Arthur got dressed. He was at least 99% sure that his appreciation of Arthur's physique wasn't obvious, but the 1% tended to worry him so it was far better if he moved himself out of harm's way, especially if there was sword practice in his future.

*

Merlin was slightly late for the practice that afternoon. He was pretty sure that Arthur had worked off his annoyance about being hung over when Merlin wasn't with the huge list of jobs. Mostly sure. He put on an extra layer of padding just in case, even though he was immediately too hot and so was already sweating when he arrived at their practice lawn.

"If you draw blood, I'm taking the afternoon off," he warned Arthur, who was twirling his sword and grinning.

"Then I won't draw blood," Arthur said. "Wouldn't want to deprive myself of an afternoon's entertainment, now would I? Come on, step up!"

Merlin put his feet into what he hoped were the correct positions and held his sword up ready.

"Not bad," said Arthur cheerfully. "Maybe you're actually learning something after all!" He then darted in and disarmed Merlin in three moves.

"At least you didn't fall down this time," he said as Merlin retrieved his sword, muttering. The next time, Merlin did.

As the afternoon wore on, though, Merlin began to notice something odd. Usually, after Arthur had knocked him down a few times he felt exhausted, bruised and very demoralised, plus totally disinclined to try any more. Last week, Arthur had actually finished the practice early, saying that after the sixth time, knocking Merlin down just stopped being fun. Today, however, not only did Merlin feel relatively cheerful about the whole business, he was actually making an effort to fight back. Arthur had only knocked him down twice, and on one occasion it took Arthur six moves to disarm him.

"You've been practising," Arthur said, leaning on his own sword as Merlin stooped awkwardly to collect his. He hadn't factored in the effect of the extra padding on his ability to move, and even though today was going better than usual, getting the sword off the ground was more of a struggle than he liked.

"I only practise with you," he said. "I don't need any extra bruises!" Arthur frowned, presumably thinking of last week's debacle.

"Well, you seem to have got better," he said.

"Or perhaps not," he said dryly twenty minutes later, when he had sent Merlin sprawling twice more.

"Come on," he said, reaching out a hand to help Merlin to his feet. "Let's call it a day."

Merlin accepted the hand gratefully, but he felt surprisingly reluctant to end the practice. He didn't' suggest carrying on, obviously, he wasn't a complete idiot no matter what Arthur (and Gaius) might say, but he puzzled over it all the way back to the armoury. Arthur was moving slightly slower than usual, and seemed rather keen to get out of his armour.

"I shall need you this evening," Arthur said as Merlin struggled with a buckle. "Bring me my meal at the usual time and be prepared to stay."

"Yes sire," Merlin said, carefully depositing the final piece of armour on the table. Arthur nodded and strode out before Merlin could ask exactly what Arthur had planned.

It turned out to be a game of Knucklebones, which was one thing Merlin had always been extremely good it.

"How can you be better than me at this?" Arthur said in frustration as Merlin beat him for the third time.

"Natural talent," Merlin said smugly, failing to add the many, many years of practise he had while Arthur had been running around learning to hit things with swords.

"More likely you're cheating," muttered Arthur, gaze fixed on Merlin's hands as he gathered the bones for another go. Merlin flipped the bones expertly and Arthur slapped his hand over Merlin's before the bones could land, scattering them and pinning Merlin's hand to the desk.

"Who's cheating now?" Merlin asked indignantly.

"Enough!" Arthur said, withdrawing his hand just slightly too slowly. "Entertain me, Merlin!" he said grandly.

"I'm not a jester," Merlin said automatically, still feeling the ghost of Arthur's hand on his.

"You could have fooled me," Arthur said with a snort. "No one could drop as many dishes as you do if they weren't trying to juggle them. Remember the feast at Pentecost? The only times I've seen people wearing that much food is when they're fresh out of the stocks."

"The kitchen didn't find that as funny as you do," Merlin said caustically. "At least it wasn't hot – I could have done myself an injury!"

"Better luck next time!" Arthur said with a grin.

"Prat," said Merlin, without heat, and they lapsed into comfortable silence. Arthur broke it after a while with an inane statement that Merlin was only too happy to disagree with and they bickered peacefully until Arthur decided that it was time to go to bed.

Morgana was never sure how long she had lain unconscious after Merlin had poisoned her. She remembered light and dark, and agonising pain radiating from her belly until her all limbs were shaking with it, and she remembered Morgause's voice speaking magic, and persuading Morgana to drink when she would rather have taken nothing.

When she was well enough to pay some attention to the world around her, she found herself in a small room, very different from the rooms she was used to. It was furnished with a strange mix of items, ranging from the opulent to the rustic. The frame of the bed she found herself in looked old and well used, sturdily constructed and functional rather than ornate, but the sheets on it were as luxurious as those she was used to. This duality extended to the room at large. There was a fantastically ornate dressing table that would not have been out of place in Morgana's own bedchamber, but lying on it were an assortment of items which even Gwen would have discarded. Morgana supposed that they must be magical in some way and she contemplated this for a little while, half in and half out of sleep, but came to no firm conclusions and it baffled her every time she was awake.

"Where are we?" she asked, when she could string more than two thoughts together. Morgause lifted the cup to her mouth and Morgana drank the foul-tasting substance unwillingly, but was rewarded with an answer, albeit one that raised more questions.

"We're safe where Uther and his knights cannot find us."

"Uther has been looking," Morgana said dreamily, slightly surprised to find that this discovery pleased a little corner of her heart.

"That he has. He does not appreciate being made to look a fool by a witch," Morgause said, and Morgana drank more of that bitter drink as the warm feeling ebbed away.

"Uther is not dead," she said, a statement rather than a question, and Morgause just nodded, settling Morgana back among the pillows before sleep rose to take her again.

"Am I dying?" she asked the next time Morgause came in to her.

"You have been very sick," Morgause said. "Merlin poisoned you, do you remember?"

Morgana felt again the tightness in her throat, saw the look on Merlin's face and felt the chill of realisation flood through her, far too late. "I thought he was my friend," she said wretchedly. "I don't understand."

"Much is not clear," Morgause said. "Here, this draught may please you better."

"What did he do to me?" Morgana asked. This draught was sweeter than the other, more cloying and heavy on her stomach. She could take barely a few sips before her stomach could take no more, and she allowed her head to drop back onto the pillow.

"Hemlock," Morgause said, turning to set aside the draught and then ensuring Morgana was comfortable upon the pillows. "I was able to save you then, but at great cost," she said softly. "You must rest, you are not strong."

"Am I going to die?" Morgana asked, suddenly consumed by fear. She reached out and grabbed at Morgause's sleeve. "Am I going to die?"

"Not if I can help it," Morgause said darkly, taking Morgana's hand in her own and sitting with her until Morgana had drifted back into sleep.

*

Although the sweeter potion turned her stomach, it did seem to revive her. In time, she even felt well enough to sit up in bed, with Morgause's support.

"How long have I been here?" asked Morgana eventually, once she had progressed to sitting up in bed for at least part of each day and could keep down some of the plainest foods.

"Nearly nine months," Morgause said. "I know," she said as Morgana exclaimed in shock. "I did not think that you would be so unwell for so long."

"Nine months?" Morgana whispered, head reeling. "But… it cannot have been more than a few weeks, surely?"

"You have been gravely ill," Morgause said. Morgana shifted her weight slightly, stretching her hand before her and seeing for the first time the way the bones shifted under her skin.

"What has he done to me?" she said softly. "Nine months, and I still cannot stay awake for more than one turn of the glass, let alone stir from my bed. Will I ever be well again?"

Morgause looked at her, looking torn. Morgana waited, knowing she would speak when she was ready.

"I have managed to keep you from crossing into death, Morgana, but I have not effected a permanent cure," she said softly. "I have tried all the magic I know, but with little success. There is only one route left open to me, but it is difficult. The Old Religion has the power to travel the paths between life and death. One who has strayed too far down into death can be brought back if they drink from the Cup of Life, but it is, at present, beyond my reach."

"How so?" Morgana asked.

"The cup was last used by a sorceress called Nimueh, but she was killed over a year ago, and the sorcerer who killed her put such protection on the cup that I cannot go near it."

"Well, what will break that protection?" Morgana asked. "I'll do anything, anything if it will make me well again."

"I do not know," Morgause said. "Finding out as much as I have has taken me this long." She paused, and then said: "All I know is the name of the sorcerer who cast that spell."

"His name?" Morgana asked.

"Merlin."

The next day began normally enough. Merlin woke slightly earlier than usual and so was actually on time to deliver Arthur's breakfast. Arthur seemed sleepier than usual, probably because he'd got used to the half-hour lie-in Merlin's lateness customarily awarded him. He was still yawning as he left for the training courts.

Left alone, Merlin took advantage of the chance to polish off the remains of Arthur's breakfast, albeit with slightly less enthusiasm than usual.

'I must be getting spoiled, if I can turn my nose up at food fit for a prince!' he thought, but he ate it all anyway and mulled the idea over in his mind as he pottered around Arthur's rooms, putting things to his version of right before heading off to do the rest of his morning's chores.

He reported to the training courts slightly early, as he tended to do. Arthur never finished his training sessions early, usually kept his knights to the very last minute and sometimes past that, but Merlin liked watching Arthur train and Arthur had never objected. This time, however, the knights were already dispersing. Merlin frowned, glancing around to see whether anyone had been injured. None of the knights seemed concerned, and though one or two were moving stiffly, there was no obvious reason for the early finish. He looked around, heart lifting ever so slightly when he picked out Arthur, standing near the edge of the field and deep in conversation with an older knight who Merlin thought was named Cadogan. Merlin stood at a distance he very much hoped was respectful and waited for him to finish.

"You're finished early," he observed when Arthur had finally concluded the conversation with Cadogan and had begun walking towards the armoury. Arthur was walking slightly more slowly than usual, something Merlin only worked out when he almost had to pause to let Arthur catch up.

"Are you all right?" he asked. "You can't surely still be hung over!"

Arthur glared at him, but didn't rise to the bait as Merlin had expected.

"I didn't sleep well," he said shortly. "Didn't feel like working so hard in this heat. Surely it's too hot for May?"

Merlin glanced around, taking in the blue sky and the trees in their first full flush of green.

"Um, I don't think so," he said. "It was pretty nice last year, wasn't it?"

"In June, perhaps," Arthur said. "I'm almost certain that May was chilly."

They bickered about the weather all the way to the armoury and the whole time Merlin was removing Arthur's armour. There was an awkward moment when Merlin tried to put Arthur's hauberk down without looking and managed to put it half on and half off the table. He had already let go when he realised it was slipping and swore, knowing instantly that he wouldn't catch it before it hit the floor. He lunged for it anyway, felt an odd sort of tug and the hauberk was safe in his hands.

"How lucky was that?" he exclaimed, putting it carefully on the table this time and turning to give Arthur a triumphant grin. "I was sure that was going to hit the floor!"

"So was I," Arthur said, a strange expression on his face. "Hurry up, can't you? I'm supposed to meet with the king."

Merlin frowned, and finished disarming him in silence. It wasn't like Arthur to be moody, and it wasn't as if it was his good armour, and besides, he hadn't even dropped it. He brooded about it slightly as he put the armour away but by the time he got back to the castle it was forgotten.

He'd have forgotten it completely if it hadn't been for what happened the next evening. Merlin had woken with a stomach ache, and though it had got slightly better when he had eaten some of Arthur's breakfast it hadn't gone away completely. Merlin spent most of the afternoon thinking about the stomach easing medicine that Gaius could make, and regretting the fact that the day had been too busy for him to get any so far. Arthur had been quiet too, but though Merlin had made one or two enquiries, Arthur had brushed them off and Merlin wasn't feeling in the mood to push the issue. He hadn't been surprised when Arthur chose to have supper in his rooms rather than face the King, something he'd been doing more often since Morgana's disappearance in any case. Merlin just hoped he'd eat quickly and let Merlin go and get his tonic. So far, this wish wasn't being fulfilled.

"Would it kill you to stand still?" Arthur said irritably, after Merlin had switched his weight from one foot to the other for the fifth time. "You're making me dizzy!"

"Sorry." Merlin tried to stand still, he really did, fixing his attention on the brickwork and trying to count how many bricks it took to get from floor to ceiling.

"Now what are you doing?" Arthur snapped, pushing his plate away from him. "I can't eat with you muttering to yourself!"

Merlin sighed loudly and came forward to remove the plate. He probably moved more quickly than he should have done because Arthur jumped and his sleeve brushed against his goblet. Merlin winced, fully expecting the wine to end up in Arthur's lap, but he felt that odd sort of tug again, and the goblet righted itself. Merlin took a moment to thank his lucky stars that he'd been spared an evening of trying to get red wine stains out of Arthur's pale-coloured britches, and put Arthur's pudding in front of him.

"You can leave now," Arthur said, picking up his spoon and not looking at Merlin.

"You haven't finished! I need to clear away," Merlin pointed out.

"I don't care," Arthur said, stabbing the spoon into the bowl with rather more force than necessary. "Just go, you can clear it all up tomorrow."

"But…" Merlin said anxiously, not wanting to risk the anger of the kitchen staff when the plates were not returned.

"Out!" Arthur snapped, and Merlin went.

Once in the corridor, he paused. There was no sound from Arthur's chamber, and Merlin wondered what had just happened. The ache in his stomach was worse, and it was this that finally made him head back to his own rooms. Gaius gave him the tonic without comment, and he drank it quickly. Something was nagging at him, something about the events of the last few days, but he wasn't sure what. His stomach was still aching too much to sleep, so he started flicking through his magic book, hoping that the tonic would start doing its job soon and he'd be able to get some rest. A spell caught his attention, one for raising objects from the ground. He'd not seen it before but it reminded him of the one he'd used to propel the sword into the Questing Beast. Putting one of his boots into a clear space on the floor, he spoke the words aloud.

Usually when Merlin cast a spell, rather than just using the magic in the way that felt natural, he felt a build up as the words were spoken, a gathering before the release. This time, the magic felt sluggish. Power that had always seemed to just flow out of him whether he liked it or not now took a moment to gather, and Merlin had to concentrate hard to get the boot to rise even a hand span from the floor. He frowned, let the boot fall and cast the spell again. It was no easier the second time, and he went back to the book, reading the surrounding notes more carefully. There was no reason that this should be so difficult, this didn't make any sense! He spoke the words again, with the same result, and when he let the boot fall he felt a stabbing pain in his stomach. He pressed a hand to it in surprise, and the pain eased slightly, but the ache was worse than it had been before he had started using magic, and he felt a deep anxiety fall over him.

He slept poorly, and the first thing he noticed when he awoke was that his stomach still hurt. He took a deep breath, and cast the spell he had attempted the night before. It was no more successful, and his stomach ache worsened.

He toyed with his breakfast, not really sure what to do. His magic felt dammed up somehow, diverted, further away, and…

"Stomach still playing up?" Gaius asked, and Merlin jumped, the porridge falling from his spoon to land on the front of his trousers.

"Something like that," Merlin admitted, taking the cloth Gaius handed at him and sponging rather hopelessly at the stain. "Gaius, are there any sicknesses that can affect magic?"

Gaius looked at him sharply.

"There are plenty which can be caused by it, but none which affect the ability to use it, as far as I know," he said. "Why do you ask?"

"No reason," Merlin said quickly, and then at Gaius' quizzical look, "Just, I was trying out a new spell last night, levitation, nothing special, and it didn't work as well as I was expecting, that's all."

"Perhaps you mispronounced the words," Gaius said, wiping his bowl with a cloth and placing it back on the shelf. "You know that that sort of thing is very important."

"It did work though," Merlin said. "It just…didn't work well, and it made my stomach hurt."

"You're probably just tired," Gaius said briskly. "I'm sure it's nothing, but I might as well have a look at you."

Merlin had to take off his shirt and submit to all manner of pokings and proddings before Gaius pronounced himself satisfied.

"As far as I can see, there's nothing physically wrong with your stomach," he said. "If you're not sleeping, it's bound to affect your magic, that'll be all it is."

"Yes," Merlin said, mostly to be polite.

"We'll keep an eye on it," Gaius said. "In the meantime, you'd best hurry – Prince Arthur will be wanting his breakfast."

Merlin cursed, yanked his shirt back on and hurried to the kitchens, where he had to suffer through a lecture on the importance of returning tableware promptly before he was allowed to take the food prepared for the prince's breakfast. His protestations that it was Arthur who had insisted that he leave the plates there fell on deaf ears, and Merlin was not in the best of moods by the time he finally reached Arthur's chamber. Balancing the tray on one knee, he rapped sharply, then pushed open the door without waiting for a response. Arthur was still in bed, but he rolled over when he heard the door open.

"Breakfast," said Merlin, unnecessarily.

"I don't want it," Arthur said. He didn't sound annoyed or petulant; his words were a mere statement of fact and Merlin frowned. He glanced at the table where the remains of Arthur's supper still lay. He had clearly eaten nothing after he dismissed Merlin, and Merlin felt a tinge of worry override his own nausea.

"Sire, are you well?" he asked, pushing the supper dishes cautiously aside in order to set Arthur's breakfast down. He was surprised when Arthur didn't answer immediately, and turned to find Arthur's eyes fixed on him. Merlin hurried over to his bedside and put a hand to Arthur's head as he had seen Gaius do. He wasn't sure whether Arthur felt hot or not, but he was sure that the fact that the prince didn't object was a sign that all was not well.

"I'm fetching Gaius," he decided, and headed back to his rooms as fast as he could. He just caught Gaius as he was leaving on his rounds, and accompanied him back to Arthur's chambers, talking all the while.

"How long has he been off his food?" Gaius asked, and Merlin had to admit that he wasn't sure.

"I had some of his breakfast yesterday, and the day before…" he said uncertainly. "The day before last he ate with the King, and if he did not eat no one mentioned it to me."

He was relieved when they finally reached Arthur's rooms. Arthur was still in bed, hunched down under the covers and showing no signs of moving, though he submitted to Gaius's ministrations with good grace.

"It's rather a mess in here, Merlin," said Gaius reprovingly when his eye fell on the supper dishes.

"Oh, for… he told me to leave them!" Merlin said, going over to the table and beginning to gather the neglected dishes up in preparation for returning them to the kitchens.

"Have you eaten anything unusual recently?" Gaius asked, turning his attention back to Arthur.

"No," Arthur said. Both Gaius and Merlin frowned at that. Even ill, Arthur could usually manage to keep up at least a thin façade of his usual character.

"The only problem is your stomach?" Gaius said. "No pain in the joints, headaches?"

"No," Arthur said again.

"Well, I think you should stay where you are today," Gaius said. "I will prepare a tonic to ease your stomach and Merlin will bring that to you as soon as it's done. You might feel better if you eat," he added, going over the food Merlin had left on the table and selecting some bread. "Bread will not harm your stomach."

"I will take some later," Arthur said.

"As you wish," Gaius said. "I will tell the king you are indisposed. Merlin, if you could come with me, I will give you that tonic."

Merlin nodded and followed Gaius out of the room with a last, worried glance at Arthur. Gaius waited until they were back in his rooms before broaching the subject again.

"I do not think that it is a coincidence that both you and Prince Arthur have stomach pain at the same time," he said. "Think carefully, Merlin, has there been anything strange about any of the food you have eaten?"

"No," Merlin said. "I only get to eat his food if he doesn't want it, and you know what Arthur's like – he'll eat pretty much anything that moves. I've been allowed to finish his breakfast for the last couple of days, but that's not normal."

Gaius didn't look satisfied by this answer, so he just said, "Well, if you think of anything then let me know. In the meantime, you had better take this up to the prince." He handed Merlin a bottle of the very same stomach-easing tonic that Merlin had drunk the night before, and Merlin set out for Arthur's chambers for the third time that day.

Arthur was lying flat on his back, staring at the canopy. He didn't move when Merlin came in, and Merlin moved over to the bed as quietly as he could.

"Sire?" he said cautiously. "I have the tonic."

Arthur didn't respond for a moment, then heaved a great sigh and sat up.

"Thank you," he said, taking it from Merlin without meeting his eyes and drinking it down in one.

"Is there anything specific you wish me to do today?" Merlin asked. "I can fetch a book for you, if you'd like."

Arthur made a moue of distaste and handed the empty bottle back before lying back down again.

"I'm sure you've got plenty of things to be getting on with," he said. "If you just make sure that all my armour will be ready for the next time I need it, that will be all."

"Yes Sire," Merlin said. Arthur closed his eyes, and Merlin watched him for a moment before taking his leave, resolving to check back later.

Supper dishes restored to their rightful place, Merlin headed for the armoury, where he polished the already spotless armour and brooded. Something just didn't feel right about all this. Arthur was never ill, he was never ill, and for both of them to have pains at the same time, well, it was suspicious. Merlin's magic had never failed him before, had always flowed out of him like water from a spring, so why now, what was different? He gave the hauberk one last rub and went to put it on the table…and then froze. The table. That slight tug he'd felt, when he'd been so sure that the hauberk would fall to the floor and then suddenly it had been in his hands. Could it have been magic? But he hadn't cast a spell, and his control had improved so much since he'd come to Camelot that he was certain that he hadn't done it by accident, not in front of Arthur. And it hadn't felt like him doing it, he hadn't felt the build and rush, just a tug, as if someone had caught at his arm for balance. His metaphorical arm, Merlin thought giddily. After all, his actual arms had been in use, catching the hauberk. He remembered the goblet of red wine, set to pour itself over Arthur's trousers when the tug had come again and the goblet had steadied on its base, not a drop spilt.

Merlin stood quite still as the ramifications of this sunk in. He then put everything away as carefully as he could and made his way back to his rooms.

Gaius wasn't there, and Merlin was quite surprised by this for a moment until he remembered that Gaius was often absent during the day. He went into his own room and closed the door, then picked up the magic book. He didn't expect to find anything in there about using another's power, so he was not disappointed when the book shed no light on anything. It was around noon when he heard Gaius return, by which time Merlin had spent hours wracking his brain for any sort of explanation and coming up blank. He hurried out into the main chamber, where Gaius was just setting his bag down on the work bench.

"Arthur's got magic!" he exclaimed as soon as he saw that they were alone. Gaius stared at him.

"You must be mistaken. The prince is no sorcerer!" Shaking his head firmly, he began to remove the empty vials and bottles from his bag, setting them on the worktop to be cleaned and refilled.

"But he used magic!" Merlin said. "Twice, now, when I was going to drop something he caught it with magic."

"Arthur hasn't a drop of magic in him," said Gaius bluntly, sitting down on the stool. "Uther never had that power, and though Ygraine had the Sight, it was weak, and the circumstances of Arthur's birth drove all magic from him."

"I saw him use magic with my own eyes," Merlin said stubbornly.

"I've never heard of magic showing itself so late. The prince is two and twenty – we should have seen this long ago. There must be another explanation," Gaius said, getting to his feet and heading for the bookcase.

"I think the magic he used might have been mine," Merlin said. "Each time, I felt a sort of tug, and if he's using my magic it might explain why I'm having trouble with it."

"That's ridiculous. Prince Arthur is unaware of your gifts, and I'm quite certain that he wouldn't want your power, even if he knew how to get it." Gaius headed for the ladder he used to reach the books on the top shelves, and Merlin hurried over to help him.

"So it would be possible to use another's power then? It's not totally unheard of?" he asked, dragging the ladder to where Gaius wanted it and holding it steady.

"I do not know," Gaius said, setting his foot on the bottom rung. "I have heard of rituals which require more than one participant, and I had assumed that the reason for that was that the powers combined, but I did not think it was that one party took magic from the other, rather that their combined will heightened their chance of a successful result." He reached the top of the ladder and leaned somewhat precariously. Merlin got ready to catch him if necessary.

"I could have been mistaken," admitted Gaius, securing the book he wanted and passing it down to Merlin, who took it and watched Gaius descend with some relief. "Those kind of rituals are very powerful, quite beyond anything I could ever have done, so I didn't study them as hard as I could have."

He took the book from Merlin and began to look through it.

"He is using my power though," Merlin said softly. "I'm quite sure of it, but I don't think he's doing it deliberately."

Gaius nodded.

"I believe you, Merlin. Well, I think I do, but as I have no idea why or what to do about it, belief alone is not very helpful." He put the book aside and reached for another, focussing on it in a way which made it quite clear that Merlin was dismissed.

"Do you need anything else from the top shelf?" Merlin said, after a while. "I ought to check on Arthur, and I'd rather you didn't climb those ladders when I'm not here, it doesn't look very safe."

Gaius gave him a look.

"Your concern is touching and wholly unnecessary," he said. "But this will do for now, go and see to the prince. Oh, and Merlin?" he said as Merlin was about to hurry out of the door. "Be careful. If Arthur knows what he is doing, he is likely to be very unhappy about it."

Merlin nodded, and grabbed another bottle of the stomach easing tonic from the table before heading once again to Arthur's chambers.

Arthur was still lying on his back, unmoving.

"Arthur?" Merlin said, cautiously. "How are you feeling?"

"No better," Arthur said flatly. "I do not require any food."

"Have you moved at all?" Merlin asked, seeing that the bread Gaius had told Arthur to eat was still untouched on the table. Arthur didn't answer, and when Merlin sneaked a look at him out of the corner of his eye, he looked thoroughly miserable.

"Arthur, you must eat something," he said, picking up the bread and taking it over. "If you don't want bread, I can get you something else, but please, try it."

"I'm not hungry."

Merlin sat down on the edge of the bed and looked at him. Arthur gave him a slightly incredulous look, possibly at Merlin having dared to sit on the edge of the royal bed, but said nothing.

"Come on," Merlin said. "I'm going to sit here until you do," he said. He bounced up and down experimentally. "I like your mattress," he said cheerfully. "It's very soft."

"You're making my stomach worse," said Arthur. "Get off!"

"I'm not making it worse," Merlin said, bouncing again. "You're just hungry, that's all, because you haven't eaten since last night and you barely ate anything then. You'll feel better if you eat something."

"Merlin…" began Arthur, and Merlin tore off a piece of bread and handed it to him.

"You really are insufferable," said Arthur, and for a moment Merlin was worried that he'd throw the bread across the room, but then Arthur took a small bite and chewed slowly.

"That's it!" Merlin said encouragingly when Arthur swallowed, and handed him another piece.

"I'm not a child," Arthur said, but he ate that piece too, and the next. Merlin sat there until Arthur had eaten the whole thing, and then smiled.

"Better?" he said. Arthur stared at him, clearly tempted to say no, but then he sighed.

"A bit," he said reluctantly.

"Do you want a bath?" Merlin asked, slightly reluctantly. "You've been in bed all morning and it's quite warm in here. A bath might cheer you up." He realised as soon as he'd said it that it was the wrong thing to say.

"I'm ill, Merlin, not miserable!" Arthur said. "I don't need a bath, I just need rest."

"OK, OK," Merlin said hastily, getting off the bed. "I'll just set things straight in here and then get out of your way."

He headed straight for the windows and drew back the heavy drapes that were keeping most of the light outside.

"It's a beautiful day," Merlin said conversationally, hoping that Arthur could see the sky from his bed.

"Merlin, what are you doing?" Arthur asked, and he sounded so frustrated and so Arthur that Merlin couldn't keep it up any more.

"Why didn't you tell me that you can use magic?" he asked softly. He turned to face Arthur just in time to see all the blood drain from his face.

"What are you talking about?" Arthur said, and there was a note of panic in it that Merlin had never heard before. It cut him to the core.

"I know what you did, with the wine and the hauberk," Merlin said. "I… how long have you been able to do that?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," repeated Arthur. "I've no idea what you think you saw, but I'm telling you now that you didn't see anything. You didn't see anything because there was nothing to see. Have you got that, Merlin, or do I need to use shorter words?" He was sitting up in bed now, face flushed.

"I saw you use magic," said Merlin stubbornly and possibly slightly too loudly. Arthur went white again, his mouth worked for a moment but no sound escaped. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and was on his feet more quickly than Merlin would have thought possible. Suddenly afraid, Merlin stepped backwards.

"You accuse me of treason?" Arthur hissed, and before Merlin could speak Arthur had seized his sword from the table and was advancing swiftly. "How dare you say such lies to me?"

"Arthur, don't," Merlin said, scrabbling behind him for the door handle. He saw Arthur's eyes flash and heard the door lock behind him. Arthur looked wild and afraid, clearly not hearing anything Merlin said and Merlin could only think of one thing to do.

"Freosest!" he yelled, holding out his hand, and Arthur froze, an incredulous expression on his face.

"Look," Merlin said quickly over the stab of pain and the feeling of relief that the magic had actually worked. "I'll let you go if you promise not to hurt me. I'm on your side."

Arthur glared at him, and Merlin released him. Arthur immediately dropped the sword and stared at him.

"I can help you," Merlin said hastily. "You can learn to control it, you don't have to use it." He moved cautiously towards Arthur, who stepped backwards. Merlin stopped, hands held out low, palms up, hoping Arthur wouldn't go for the sword again.

"How long have you known about it?" he asked, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on Arthur's face.

"I don't have magic," Arthur said. "It must be something else, something must have happened to me. Nothing like that has ever happened before." He shook his head staunchly, but his hands were shaking.

"That day in the armoury was the first time?" Merlin said in surprise. "I've been using magic for as long as I can remember."

Arthur made a choked noise, stepping backwards and holding up his hands as if to ward Merlin off before noticing that they were shaking and dropping them to his sides.

"You must have enchanted me," he said. "That's the only…" He picked up a cloth from the table, probably to hide the fact that his hands were still shaking, and began to toy with it nervously. Merlin stepped forward gently and placed his hands over Arthur's, halting the movement.

"I've never heard of a spell that would do anything like this. And why would I want to give you magic? Turn you into a toad, perhaps…" Merlin mused and Arthur gave a reluctant snort of amusement.

"You've really never been able to do it before?" Merlin asked, using his thumbs to rub soothing circles on Arthur's hands.

"You've really been able to do it for years?" Arthur countered.

"Magic is innate, you can't learn it if you don't have it in you to begin with," Merlin said. "I can control it now, mostly," he said, thinking of the blaze of raw power he'd sent at his father's killer.

"And you came to Camelot," Arthur said, shaking his head in disbelief. "Perhaps you really do have a grave mental affliction!"

"Lucky for you. Do you realise how many times I've saved your life?" Merlin said, unable to resist the chance. Arthur frowned.

"Merlin, have you been saving my life with magic?" He looked sceptical, more sceptical than Merlin thought he really had the right to look considering that just minutes ago Merlin had held him in place with one word.

"You didn't really think all those tree branches and ceilings fell down by themselves, did you?" he joked, but the amused expression had gone from Arthur's face.

"My father will kill us both," he said, stepping away from Merlin and sitting down heavily in his chair.

"Not if you don't tell him," Merlin said. "I've been here two years and he hasn't caught me yet."

"More by luck than judgement," Arthur said. There was a pause, during which Merlin wisely said nothing. Then Arthur frowned. "The witch finder was right about you – was he right about Morgana?"

Merlin bit his lip and stared at the floor.

"Merlin! And you knew?"

"She was so afraid, I wanted to help her!" Merlin said. Arthur jumped up and began to pace.

"Does she know about you?"

"I don't think so. I think only Gaius knows, and now you." Merlin said. "I swear, I have always tried to help. Magic's not something that you can choose."

"Is that why Morgause took her? Because she's a witch?" Arthur said, and damn him for being so on the ball tonight, thought Merlin a little hysterically.

"I…" he said, unsure what to say next. "Look, Arthur, sit down, OK? Don't be angry."

"Merlin, tell me the truth," Arthur said, fixing Merlin with a look Merlin had never seen before.

"She was afraid," he said softly. "I knew before she did, Gaius knew before she did but after that fire…"

"She caused the fire?"

"She didn't mean to! She never learned to control her power, it just came out in her dreams."

"And Morgause wanted to teach her?" Arthur said. Merlin wondered wildly if he could just take that opening, just nod and change the subject, but he knew that if he was going to escape from this with Arthur's trust he was going to have to be honest.

"She was working with Morgause," he admitted softly. "I didn't know at first, I thought it was her magic keeping her awake or I would have said something, but she was part of the spell."

"I don't believe you," Arthur said flatly.

"I'm sorry!" Merlin said. "She was so afraid of Uther, and Morgause…"

"Morgause told her she wouldn't have to be afraid any more," Arthur said expressionlessly. "Morgana, a traitor."

"To Uther, not to you," Merlin said. "I'm sure she doesn't want to hurt you."

"But she wants to kill my father," Arthur said. "Do you want to kill him too?"

"No! I've saved his life three times, if I'd wanted him dead I wouldn't have bothered," Merlin said. Arthur looked at him, and Merlin hurried on, before Arthur could force him to explain. "And besides, Morgause broke the spell because of me, she was in the throne room with Uther by then, if I'd wanted I could have just let her kill him."

"Were you tempted?" Arthur said.

"No," said Merlin simply. "You're going to be a great king, Arthur, but not yet."

Arthur sat back down, and after a moment, Merlin took the other chair. They sat in silence for a while, though Merlin kept sneaking little sidelong glances at Arthur, trying to see how Arthur was taking it. Arthur was mostly staring at his hands in a way that made it very clear that he wasn't seeing them at all.

"Look," said Merlin after a while, when it became clear that Arthur wasn't going to move. "You should get some sleep. You've nothing to do this afternoon anyway, and things always look better once you've slept. You didn't sleep at all last night, did you?" he asked, and Arthur shook his head.

"I won't sleep," Arthur said with certainty, and though Merlin had wanted to hug him before, he'd never wanted it so strongly.

"My mother says it never hurts to try," he said, resisting the urge. "Come on sire, bed time."

Arthur sighed, but got to his feet.

"Don't think you can start bossing me around. I'm still the prince, you know."

"You'll always be a prat to me," Merlin agreed.

"Goodbye, Merlin," Arthur said, and Merlin took that as his cue to leave.

"Merlin?" Morgana gasped, not sure whether to laugh or cry. "Arthur's manservant, Merlin, a sorcerer powerful enough to cast a spell that you cannot break?"

"Indeed," Morgause agreed, in a tone that suggested she did not find this very amusing. "After months of negotiation, the druids told me that much, but they will tell me no more."

"But they helped me, once," Morgana said. "Surely they will do so again?"

"They fear him," Morgause said, and Morgana shook her head to clear it.

"Surely there must be some mistake. Merlin… he can't be a sorcerer, he works for Arthur!"

"You were the king's ward," Morgause pointed out. "Think back, has Merlin done nothing that could arouse your suspicions?"

Morgana frowned, overwhelmed. She shut her eyes against the flood of memories, remembering Merlin bursting into her chambers with the druid boy, Merlin hinting to her that she should go to the druids as they could help her with her magic, Merlin telling Arthur that she'd gone to get a potion from Gaius as soon as she'd felt sleepy…

"It makes sense now," she said weakly, unwilling to open her eyes. "All this time, why didn't he tell me? Why did he let me suffer alone?"

"You are alone no longer," Morgause said. "Together, we will work out how to lift his spell and we will make you well again."

"And then," Morgana said, "Camelot will tremble." She opened her eyes and met Morgause's surprised look with a steadfast stare. "Gaius drugged me, Merlin tried to kill me and neither one of them would accept that I am an adult, that I deserved to be told what was happening to me, and they will pay for that with their lives. I trusted them, I trusted them both to help me and they have done nothing but deceive me and laugh about me behind my back."

Her voice was hard and cold, and it felt as if it was coming from somewhere far away. It had the ring of truth to it, and Morgana felt a chill stealing over her.

"Where did this sorceress die?" she asked, turning that cold attention to the important details.

"The Isle of the Blessed," Morgause answered. "If we can get Merlin there, we might be able to get him to undo the spell."

"I have an idea," said Morgana, and Morgause smiled.

Merlin took Arthur a light supper, and Arthur got out of bed to eat it.

"I spoke to Gaius," Merlin said after a while, when Arthur seemed to have eaten what he wanted.

"You did what?" Arthur said in shock, glaring at him as if he'd done something really awful like drop his best helmet.

"He's known about me since the day I arrived in Camelot," Merlin said. "He protected me from the witch finder, though he knew it would mean his death, he's not about to turn me in now."

"Oh," said Arthur, looking slightly reassured. "What did he say?"

"He's never heard of anything like it," Merlin said. Arthur sighed, and took another mouthful of stew.

"What's even odder," Merlin mused, watching Arthur chew, "is that you seem to be using my magic. That's how I knew, I felt it." Arthur choked on his mouthful and Merlin handed him a cup of water.

"If it was your magic, it'd make more sense," Merlin explained, ignoring Arthur's watery-eyed glare. "Yes, at your age you're old, but it's more likely than you having suddenly decided to steal my magic. I mean, the king wouldn't like it, for one thing."

"Now there's the understatement of the century," Arthur muttered, standing up and moving away from the table. "Finish that, if you want to."

Merlin pulled a face.

"Actually, no," he admitted. "I've been having the same stomach pain you have, and I've even got tired of eating your leftovers. And you using my magic is a very odd feeling so I'd really much rather you didn't."

"Believe me, I'll try," Arthur said. He gave Merlin a curious glance. "Does this explain why I've been tired on the field lately, and why your skill with a sword has suddenly improved?"

Merlin did his best not to look surprised by this sudden flash of insight, but he clearly did not succeed because Arthur gave him a look that on any other man Merlin would have described as hurt.

"Just because you've kept this from me all this time doesn't mean I'm completely stupid, you know," he said. "I can actually string two thoughts together, which is usually more than I can say for you."

"I didn't…I just hadn't thought of that, that's all," Merlin said, and Arthur looked mollified. "I'll ask Gaius this evening, see what he says."

"Right," Arthur said. "If you could do so without alerting the whole castle, it would be much appreciated."

Now it was Merlin's turn to look hurt.

"I haven't spent all this time saving your stupid life to get you executed now," he said. "I'm on your side, idiot, we're going to get this sorted out and everything will be fine, you'll see."

Arthur regarded him thoughtfully for a moment.

"I really must be ill," he said. "That almost sounded comforting."

Merlin rolled his eyes and picked up the pile of supper dishes.

"Goodnight, Arthur," he said.

*

"Do you think I'm sort of grimoire?" Gaius said. "Some sort of infinite repository of knowledge?"

"I take it that's a 'no' then," Merlin said.

"Yes, it's a 'no'!" Gaius snapped, poking irritably at the concoction over the flames. "Honestly Merlin, I have never heard even a whisper of anything like this happening to anyone."

"Typical," Merlin said, allowing his head to thump onto the table (and wincing as it hit slightly harder than he'd thought).

"I have no idea," he said to the table. "Neither of us has touched anything, spoken to anyone, done anything…" He trailed off as a sudden thought struck him.

"What have you done?" Gaius said

"Probably nothing," said Merlin, sitting up. "This is almost definitely not my fault."

"Merlin!" Gaius snapped.

"Arthur and I jumped the fire together at Beltane," Merlin admitted sheepishly.

Gaius turned and stared at him, speechless. Behind him, the substance in the cauldron boiled over, sending vile green liquid over the work bench, with accompanying clouds of steam and a foul stench. Gaius swore, and both he and Merlin dived for the workbench to try and rectify the damage.

"I think you'd better start from the beginning," Gaius said grimly, when some semblance of order had been restored.

"We were drunk, that's all," Merlin said. "He'd spent the whole evening showing off about jumping the flames at their highest, and nagging me to jump."

"So you did as you were told," Gaius said. "Most unlike you."

"No," Merlin said. "He just… kind of dragged me. I had to jump or my feet would have caught fire."

"You jumped together with the Crown Prince?" Gaius said, sounding completely incredulous. "You, a sorcerer, took part in an ancient and powerful joining ritual with the Crown Prince?"

"There was no joining!" Merlin said hastily, ignoring the part of him that said it wouldn't have minded if there had been. "No joining whatsoever of any kind."

Gaius just raised an eyebrow.

"You think that's it then?" Merlin said.

"It would seem highly likely," Gaius said. "The Beltane fires are old and powerful magic, Merlin. They are not to be taken lightly."

Merlin stared for a moment, trying to think of something he could possibly say.

"Oh well," he said with a giggle that even he thought was a bit on the hysterical side, "At least I can tell him it's all his fault. I told him I didn't want to jump the fire!"

Gaius gave him an incredulous look, then began laughing. Merlin started laughing too, although really he felt more like crying.

*

Merlin waited two days before telling Arthur what they had worked out. He kept worrying it over in his head, trying to work out whether these could have been anything else, whether there was any way of fixing this. He felt tired and dull, and even the thought of telling Arthur that this was all his fault didn't fill him with quite as much joy as he'd expected. Arthur clearly felt the same. The day after That Day, as Merlin referred to it in the privacy of his own head, Arthur had got out of bed as usual and gone about his business, but he was quiet. Merlin had expected Arthur to have lots and lots of questions but he didn't seem to want to discuss the topic at all. Though he hadn't gone so far that Merlin could say that the prince was ignoring him, they certainly hadn't had much time alone. They seemed to have reached some sort of strange détente. Arthur didn't give Merlin half as many unpleasant orders as Merlin was used to, and Merlin was sure Arthur was watching him when his back was turned but whenever he checked, Arthur wasn't looking at him at all.

"Gaius thinks he knows what's happening to us," he said on the second evening after That Day, when Arthur showed no sign of mentioning the subject.

"Well?" said Arthur impatiently when Merlin hesitated.

"He thinks it's because we jumped the Beltane fire," Merlin said. "It's for couples, Arthur, it's supposed to join them together. Maybe my magic just made that a bit more…all-encompassing."

"But surely this would have happened when you jumped the fire before?" Arthur said sharply. Merlin had a brief moment of nostalgia for the days when Arthur was trying very hard not to see anything that might upset him.

"I've never jumped it before – my mother said I shouldn't."

Arthur boggled at him.

"I'm not a virgin!" Merlin said hastily. "You don't have to jump the fire to celebrate!"

"You've never in your life jumped the fire before," Arthur said.

"I told you it was a bad idea but you wouldn't listen to me," Merlin said. Arthur threw up his hands.

"And a fine mess we're in now. Did Gaius have any suggestions as to how we're supposed to stop this?"

"No," Merlin said, wondering if it was even possible for his face to get any redder as he thought of the only option he could come up with.

"Right, well, I'm sure we'll think of something," Arthur said, and his own face was slightly pink. "I won't be needing you any more tonight, Merlin." Merlin nodded, and left as fast as he dared.

"Arthur never leaves Camelot without Merlin by his side," Morgana said. "If we can lure Arthur out of Camelot, Merlin will come too and once they are away from the city it will be much easier for us to separate Merlin from the others."

"I like it," Morgause said. "Prince Arthur is known for protecting his people. If he hears of trouble around the western borders he'll come straight there, and it will not take much work once they are there to direct Merlin to where we need him."

Morgana smiled.

"You really think it will work?" she asked.

"I do," Morgause said. "Leave it with me." She smiled at Morgana and left the room. Morgana settled back on her pillows, and closed her eyes.

Merlin wasn't sure whether things really were awkward the next morning, or whether he just felt so awkward that it was tainting everything. Arthur was still fast asleep when Merlin arrived at his chambers, despite the fact that Merlin was running late. He'd obviously got too hot in the night because he was shirtless and the covers were down around his waist. Merlin dragged his gaze away and made a great palaver of putting the breakfast tray down on the table.

"Rise and shine!" he said cheerfully, determined to force things back to their peculiar definition of normal if it killed him.

Arthur groaned.

"It's too early," he said grumpily, rolling over onto his side and blinking sleepily at Merlin.

"You just think that because you haven't got training to look forward to," said Merlin mercilessly, bustling around the room and trying to ignore Arthur as he sat up in bed and stretched.

"You're late, aren't you?" Arthur said, taking in the amount of daylight in the room.

"Actually, you just told me I'm too early," Merlin said. Arthur gave him a half-hearted glare and got out of bed, heading for the breakfast table. Merlin's stomach hadn't improved at all and he doubted that Arthur's had either, but part of this 'getting back to normal' seemed to involve eating semi-reasonable portions. "The King wants to see you at ten," added Merlin, watching Arthur bite into an apple.

"What time is it now?" Arthur asked, when his mouth was empty.

"Half past nine," Merlin admitted. Arthur almost spat out his second mouthful.

"Half past nine? What have you been doing all morning?!"

"Letting you get your beauty sleep?" Merlin suggested. In actual fact, he'd had a hard time getting to sleep, trying not to think of the Beltane ritual and where it usually led, and the thought of it leading there with him and Arthur… Eventually he'd given in and thought about it, several times in fact, and then he'd overslept. He was now having a hard time looking Arthur in the eyes, especially when there was so much skin on display.

"I take back everything I've ever said about your competence," snarled Arthur, jumping to his feet and heading for the wardrobe. They just managed to get him ready on time, and he presented himself just barely a minute before the appointed hour.

Merlin used the time Arthur was with the King to tidy Arthur's room. He wasn't sure whether it was because he really hadn't had that much sleep, or whether it was guilt about having spent most of the night masturbating to sexual fantasies about his master but he felt slow and tired and faintly ill. Now Arthur was out of the way, he didn't feel obliged to pretend to be cheerful, and he moved slowly as he sorted everything out. When Merlin heard Arthur's step in the corridor he wasn't even close to done, and he hastily bundled the remaining tunics into the wardrobe any old how so that when the prince came in, he could turn around from the wardrobe door and truthfully say:

"I've just finished with your things and will get out of your way."

Arthur still looked a bit tired, but he smiled anyway. Merlin pretended not to notice that the smile looked forced.

"For once, your laziness has saved me a job. There have been rumours about bandits around the western borders. Nothing too major as yet but Father needs to show that we're taking our responsibilities seriously so he wants us to ride out tomorrow morning."

"Who's us?" Merlin asked curiously. He was a little bit upset to find that he was already mentally sorting through Arthur's wardrobe, trying to decide what clothing to pack for him.

"You, me, a couple of knights…" Arthur said, propping his arms on the window sill and staring out over the courtyard. Merlin felt his good mood fall away.

"How long for?" he asked, re-sorting Arthur's pack to include two of his most hated shirts.

"Three days, a week? As long as it takes," Arthur said. "Just think, Merlin, a nice long ride, a spot of camping, maybe even some sword practice…"

Merlin was thinking, and he didn't like the idea at all.

"Why do I have to come along? You know I'll only be in the way," he said hopefully.

"Because I take pleasure in your misery, Merlin," Arthur said. "Besides, fresh air is good for you."

"Good for you, maybe," Merlin said. "I get plenty!"

"And over the next few days, you'll get even more. We'll ride at dawn so you should spend the rest of the day making sure that we've got everything we'll need," Arthur said, straightening himself up and heading for the door.

"Oh, and Merlin?" he said, just before he opened it. "Not the blue tunic or the grey one, please. Official business demands red." He gave Merlin a smug smile and left, closing the door behind him with a firm click. Merlin pulled a face and switched reluctantly back to his first assessment of Arthur's clothing. At least Arthur seemed to have cheered up a bit.

*

Merlin didn't intend to oversleep, of course not. It wasn't his fault if he happened to stay up later than he perhaps should have done reading his magic book. Still, he hadn't meant to stay up quite as late as he had, and he certainly hadn't intended to sleep for so long that Arthur had to send a stable boy to wake him. Cadogan and Leon were already mounted when Merlin tumbled into the stable yard, and Merlin was just grateful for the small act of forethought the night before which had led him to store Arthur's pack, along with his own, in the stables. The stable boy had already saddled both their horses, but Merlin was so flustered to have both knights and Arthur watching him that it took him three attempts to secure said packs, and another three tries to mount. Once finally astride, he anchored himself firmly and tried to pretend that they were going for a day's ride only. Cadogan and Arthur seemed to have decided to ignore him, but when their backs were turned, Leon gave him a wryly sympathetic grin which Merlin felt it only polite to return.

He hoped that Leon's sympathy would last the duration of the trip, because when they'd been riding for an hour and Arthur was still complaining about Merlin's lateness, Merlin was seriously considering trying to fake his own death as an excuse never to do this again. Arthur had kept up a steady barrage of remarks, which were just on the edge of what propriety allowed, and did not seem in the least perturbed by the death glares Merlin was sending at his back. On top of all that, the stable boy (probably at Arthur's suggestion) had given Merlin what must be the most difficult animal in the stable. He pulled on the reins and gave her a nudge with his knee, determined to stop her veering off to the left.

"What are you doing to that poor horse?" Arthur said, sounding more cheerful than he had so far. In his current mood, Merlin wasn't actually sure that it was an improvement.

"She wants to go left," he said shortly, very much not in the mood for one of Arthur's riding lessons.

"She only wants to go left because you're telling her to," Arthur said, falling back to ride on Merlin's left even though there wasn't really room on this path for two to ride abreast. "For heaven's sake, sit up properly! You're like a sack of potatoes!"

Merlin glared at him. "I don't need a riding lesson. I'd be fine if I'd had more sleep and if this horse would do as she's told!" Arthur's horse whickered a warning as Merlin's horse tried to nudge her off the path.

"She's always well behaved when I ride her," Arthur said. Merlin was about to retort when Sir Leon interrupted them by calling back a question to Arthur. Arthur rode on ahead in order to answer him. To Merlin's ears, the question was trivial and Merlin wondered, tugging once more on the reins, whether Leon had asked it only to interrupt them as, if so, then he owed Sir Leon a favour.

He didn't have much time to think about it though, because the damn horse still kept trying to go left. Merlin was sure she was getting more and more insistent about it and he had his hands full trying to keep her on the track. Her reluctance to travel in the proper direction at any more than a walk (though she was quite happy to trot when she was veering off the path) meant that he was travelling more slowly than the others and he began to worry that he would actually get left behind. Not only would Arthur never stop mocking him, but he'd probably never manage to find them again. Not without magic, anyway, and casting spells in a wood when he was this close to three knights of Camelot wasn't something that Merlin was looking forward to. He finally managed to rejoin the others when they stopped for lunch, by which time he was both exhausted and extremely frustrated.

"I thought you'd got lost," Arthur said caustically when Merlin caught up with them. Merlin glared at him, clambering stiffly down from the horse. Leon must have known that he was about to say something unwise because he drew Arthur into a conversation about fighting. Pretty soon they were demonstrating ideas to each other, leaving Merlin to sit in silence with the other knight. Sir Cadogan was a good ten to fifteen years older than Arthur, a third-son who had never married and seemed content to live at court. He was not known for conversation, and Merlin was too tired and irritated to try, so they sat and ate in silence. He was dreading getting back on his horse, but he was surprised to find when the time came that she seemed to have completely got over her aversion to the track and followed the others as sweetly as a lamb. Arthur, for once, seemed to have decided not to comment on Merlin's many inadequacies, and Merlin found his spirits rising as they trotted along the trail.

Much to his surprise, Merlin found himself almost enjoying the next few days. Now that he and his horse seemed to have reached an agreement, he could sit back and look around him. The weather was gloriously sunny, although the chill at night meant that if they needed to camp they had to use a tent and Merlin had a tendency to get tangled in the guy ropes. Leon was nice to him and though Cadogan kept himself to himself, Merlin was pretty sure that he'd seen his lips twitch once, when Merlin had said something funny. Arthur was always more cheerful outside Camelot, and seemed to have decided that the best way to deal with the whole magic situation was to ignore it completely. He and Merlin kept up a constant stream of banter, and Merlin was almost disappointed when they were far enough west to start their enquiries.

They took it in turns to enter the villages and ask for information, but there was surprisingly little forthcoming. Though the details varied wildly all the villagers said pretty much the same thing – there had been strangers in the area some weeks back, two travelling parties had been attacked and some goods stolen, although no one had been killed. The attacks had happened within days of each other, which is why they had sent word to the king, but there'd been nothing since. The travelling parties had moved on and there was no one left in the area who had seen the attacks themselves. There were plenty of rumours though.

"I heard it was a gang of twenty men," one innkeeper told Arthur.

"A small group, maybe five, six people, but well armed," a trader told Leon.

"I heard it was a group of women, led by one with hair of flame," a serving girl told Merlin. Merlin frowned.

"The lass who told me, I'll never forget it. Poor girl, she was so big with child I thought she'd burst, she'd no business to be travelling in that state, but what can you do?" the girl continued. "They let her be, of course, but still, the poor thing."

"Hair of flame?" Merlin asked.

"That's what she said," the girl attested. "A great mane of it."

"Did she say where they were travelling to?" asked Merlin.

"I couldn't say for sure, mind," the girl warned, and Merlin drew a coin from his pocket.

"Could have been Crow's Hill. Her husband was from there, anyway, I'm almost sure." She nodded to herself, and pocketed the coin.

"Thanks," Merlin said. "You've been really helpful."

*

"I do worry about your brain," Arthur said when Merlin reported back to him and the knights that evening. "Hair of flame? How is that possibly any use?"

"We could be dealing with a magic user," said Sir Cadogan, and Arthur gave him a sharp look. Cadogan didn't seem to be paying much attention to them; his gaze was fixed on the maps and he didn't look up under the prince's gaze.

"Or Merlin and his pretty serving girl are delusional," scoffed Arthur, clearly deciding to take Cadogan's comment at face value.

"Well, none of the rest of the information is any use," Merlin said. "Nobody we've spoken to actually saw anything themselves. No one has any idea how many bandits we're looking for, where they came from or where they went, or even who got attacked."

"Best to ride the border a bit and go home, report job done," Cadogan said, taking his eyes from the maps to look straight at Arthur.

Merlin wasn't really sure why Cadogan was even on this trip. He was quite a lot older than Arthur, known as a good knight but also known to be a man of few words who did not suffer fools gladly. He'd never yet spoken to Merlin.

Arthur was frowning, and didn't seem inclined to argue with Cadogan, instead moving over to look at the maps.

"The attacks were here and here, yes?" he asked, putting a stone on each place to mark them.

"Probably," Merlin said. "The serving girl said she thought the travellers were going to Crow's Hill so somewhere on the Crow's Hill road would make sense."

"Should be here, then," Leon said, moving a stone to a wooded area. "Trees would provide cover for an ambush."

"Too far apart," Cadogan said. "Attacks happened within a few days of each other – either two sets of bandits or those aren't the ambush sites."

"One set divided into two groups?" suggested Merlin. "Is there anywhere they could be hiding?"

"We should search Snakelake Woods, in this area," Arthur said, jabbing with his finger to indicate the spot. Cadogan nodded and Arthur began rolling up the maps.

"We'll leave at dawn. Merlin, I think it's your turn to cook."

"It's always my turn to cook," Merlin observed, heading for their packs.

"Well, it's about time you did something useful around here," Arthur said cheerfully, and Merlin grinned.

*

The attack came during the night, during Merlin's watch. He'd been pacing up and down, trying to get warm, and he supposed he hadn't been watching the shadows as closely as he should have been because one minute they were alone and the next the clearing was full of armed men. Merlin gave a yell, grabbing for the sword Arthur had insisted he wore and Cadogan burst out of the tent, sword already in hand, quickly followed by Leon and Arthur. Merlin was already swinging his sword at the closest attacker. As the sword came down, Merlin felt a strange calmness come over him, totally different to the fear and anxiety that had suffused him during other battles. The sword caught in the man's flesh with a grating, jarring feeling and the man fell. Merlin yanked his sword free in a way that should have been totally unknown to him but felt like second nature and spun to face the next attacker.

The only light in the clearing came from the dying embers of the fire, and the flickering light it cast did barely more than hint at the fight going on all around him. Without hesitation, Merlin plunged back in. He knew exactly where Arthur was, as if some strange force was pulling them together, and Merlin just fought his way towards him. The sword felt comfortable in his grasp, all those moves that Arthur had tried so hard to teach him and that Merlin had found so alien and hard to learn now felt like second nature and he struck down another bandit without a qualm. Arthur was fighting hard but as Merlin got closer, he seemed to lose focus somehow. He stumbled slightly, sword tip lowering, and the bandit seized the chance to flick the sword out of his hand. It fell to earth about a foot away, not much, perhaps, but Merlin knew, as though he'd seen it before, that Arthur couldn't reach it in time. He leaped forward, hoping to distract the man while Arthur regained his sword, but the bandit was lunging in, ready to finish what he'd started and Arthur was…Arthur was staring at the bandit, frowning slightly, and suddenly his eyes flashed gold. Merlin felt the rush of power and stared in shock as the bandit flew backwards. There was no sound, no crack of bone, not even a grunt, but it was clear when the bandit hit the ground that he was quite dead.

Neither of them moved. Merlin was sure that the shocked expression on Arthur's face was mirrored on his own, and there was no way for him to pretend he hadn't seen. Then Arthur lunged for his sword and Merlin was seized with a moment of pure terror. He jumped back quickly, keeping his eyes on Arthur but moving himself back into the centre of the clearing, back into the glow of the firelight.

The fight was almost over. Although the bandits had had numbers on their side, they were no match for three full knights of Camelot and even the element of surprise hadn't brought them success. Even as Merlin watched, Leon took down the last, and Arthur, panting heavily, was forced to lower his sword.

Merlin had never seen Arthur so furious.

"You were supposed to be on watch!" Arthur yelled, and Merlin was thankful that both Leon and Cadogan were watching them now.

"They just came out of nowhere!" Even as he said it, it sounded weak, but he HAD been watching, he'd really tried.

"You were supposed to be looking!"

"I WAS looking!" Merlin yelled back. "One minute there was no one there and the next we were surrounded."

Arthur actually took a step towards him then, but before he could say anything further, Cadogan spoke.

"Could happen to anyone," he said. "Lots of shadows at night." Cadogan was crouching by the body of one of the dead bandits, going through his pockets.

"Anything useful?" asked Leon. Arthur took a deep breath and his face relaxed somewhat. Merlin backed away quickly and began dragging the bodies to the side of the clearing as the knights discussed the ambush. To Merlin, the men just looked like bandits, shabbily dressed and with old equipment. They had no insignia that Merlin could see, nothing that made him think they were part of any sort of army.

The knights seemed to agree.

"Odd, though," Leon was saying as Merlin moved close enough to hear properly. "Why would bandits attack knights?"

"Maybe they didn't know you were knights," Merlin said. "It was dark."

"Merlin, everyone in the area knows who we are," Arthur said, and Merlin felt a tiny glimmer of relief at being addressed directly.

"There's nothing on them to say who they are or where they come from," said Leon.

"Makes them more likely to be assassins," Cadogan observed.

"This is ridiculous!" said Arthur. "Who sends bandits, badly trained bandits at that, to attack three knights of Camelot?"

"I see no other explanation," Leon said.

Merlin gave up at that point and went to build up the fire. Clearly, no one was going back to sleep so he might as well make breakfast. His cooking would have been more successful if he'd been able to stop thinking about the spark of magic in Arthur's eyes. Knowing he had it and seeing it properly turned out to be two different things, and the thought of how close they'd come to disaster made his blood run cold.

"You fought well," Leon said to Merlin over the slightly blackened porridge. "I didn't realise Arthur had taught you so much."

"Neither did I," said Merlin, turning over the porridge with his spoon and trying to ignore the roiling in his stomach.

"He's usually rubbish," Arthur agreed. He wasn't eating much either, observed Merlin, slightly relieved to see that it wasn't just him.

"Sometimes, battle brings things out in people," said Cadogan, scraping his spoon around the bottom of his bowl.

"Usually, what it brings out in Merlin is incompetence," said Arthur shortly, putting his bowl down without finishing his meal. "Let's clear up here and get moving. We need to head back."

Leon and Cadogan exchanged glances, and Merlin got wordlessly to his feet to help Arthur take down the tent.

Morgause came into Morgana's room two days later.

"Come with me."

She led Morgana through into a large room, bigger than the room in which Morgana had been spending her days. This room was clearly a sort of magical workshop, hung about with bunches of dried herbs as well as other things that Morgana quickly decided not to look at too closely.
In the centre of the room was a large multi-faceted crystal, made of quartz. Morgause led her to it, fetching a stool and positioning it so that Morgana would be able to see what was going on. Morgana perched on the stool and stared into the crystal. She thought for a moment that she could see things moving in the depths, and peered closer.

"Watch," Morgause said softly, and began to speak. As Morgana looked, a picture began to form in the depths of the crystal. Gradually it became sharper, and Morgana realised that she was looking at Sir Leon, and that he was fighting for his life. Around him, she could hear the sounds of others fighting, and the picture changed until the man she could see was Arthur. Not an Arthur she had seen before. In the heat of battle, his sword fell from his hand and his eyes flashed gold. The picture changed again, showing Merlin, sword in hand and fighting as if he was born to it. Morgause cursed and the picture flickered out

"Merlin has given his magic to the prince," Morgause said. "He must suspect something." She scowled. "Inseparable as they are, it will be probably be just as simple to lure them both."

"If we lure Arthur, Merlin will follow. He can never refuse Arthur anything." Morgana said.

"Then we will do that," said Morgause firmly. "They must not find their way back to Camelot."

The journey back began badly. Arthur alternated between talking too much and talking too little, and he spoke to Merlin only when absolutely necessary. Both Leon and Cadogan were aware something was going on, but although Merlin caught them exchanging glances occasionally, neither of them gave any obvious signs that they had noticed anything at all. Merlin kept catching Cadogan staring at him with a speculative look on his face that made Merlin deeply uncomfortable. He had no chance of catching Arthur alone; though it almost seemed that the knights were trying to give him opportunities, Arthur was clearly seeking to avoid him.

He couldn't avoid him for long, however. Before they had been riding for more than an hour, Arthur was forced to dismount and vomit into the undergrowth. Merlin felt his own stomach clench at the sight, and was only just able to get off his horse before he did the same. After they had each vomited twice more, Cadogan made them both ride at the back.

"Whatever you've got, I don't want it," he said, and Arthur didn't even try to argue. Leon rode directly in front of them, looking back occasionally to check that they were both alive and still relatively mobile.

They didn't realise that they were lost until mid-afternoon, when they rounded a bend in the path to see a river curving through the valley beneath them.

"Sire, there should be no terrain like this within ten miles of here," Leon said. Everyone dismounted and a considerable amount of time was spent poring over the map, trying to where out where they where, where they were supposed to be and whose fault it was that they were not there. Arthur roused himself from his funk and attempted to blame Merlin, largely on the grounds that things were usually his fault, but Merlin objected vigorously. Eventually, Arthur had to concede that as Merlin had never even held the map and hadn't been consulted about anything at any point it probably wasn't his fault. Cadogan observed that the discussion wasn't actually making them less lost, and after much debate they headed back the way they'd come.

Merlin found himself increasingly uneasy as they headed back down the hill,. Yes, things always looked different going the other way, but surely not this different? Arthur too was looking around warily, though the others didn't seem to have noticed anything wrong.

Despite Merlin expecting trouble around every turn, nothing happened before they made camp for the night except that it started to rain. As they attempted to put their tent up in a steady drizzle, damp ropes slipping through wet hands, tempers frayed. The prospect of cold food didn't thrill anyone either, but they had no dry wood at all. Eventually, Merlin stalked off into the forest alone to gather wood, which he dried with a spell while no one was looking, then lit the same way.

"Oh, thank God," said Leon, who Arthur had saddled with first watch in revenge for the expectant remark. "Warm food!"

"I didn't actually catch anything," Merlin said. "What do we have in the way of supplies?"

"Not a lot," called Cadogan, from where he was sorting through his pack in the relative dryness of the tent.

"I'll go and see if I can catch something," Leon said, after a glance around showed that no other suggestion would be forthcoming.

"Yes, go," said Arthur. "Merlin, heat some water so we can have soup or something while we wait."

Cadogan was obviously fed up of Merlin's cooking because he clambered out of the tent and headed for the fire, taking Merlin's place before Merlin could do anything more than put some water on to boil. Arthur headed straight for the tent to sort his own bedding out and Merlin, after a moment of hesitation, followed him.

Sir Leon arrived precisely when they had expected him to, moving more quietly than Morgana had anticipated. He was taller than she remembered; his hair longer and pulled back from his face, making him look older.

"Sir Leon," she said, and watched the shock flicker across his face. It was replaced quickly with a guarded look, but surely she hadn't imagined the brief flicker of pleasure she saw there?

"Lady Morgana, we've been looking for you for months! Are you hurt?" he asked.

"I am not hurt," Morgana said quietly.

"I was not expecting to see you here," he said, and now caution was overcoming his surprise. The look he sent in her direction was measured, and Morgana tried to look nothing other than weak and ill.

"Nor we you," lied Morgause, distracting his attention from Morgana, who dug her thumbnail hard into the sprig of valerian she held. "As you see, the lady is unwell and we have come to gather herbs that may effect a cure." She gestured at the basket that they had placed strategically by a patch of wood sorrel.

"What brings you so far from Camelot?" Morgana asked, standing up and making her way over to him.

"Bandits," he said. "These woods are not safe, my lady."

"We are safe enough," Morgause said, fixing her gaze firmly on his. Leon met her eyes with a slightly puzzled look and Morgana seized her moment and slipped the piece of valerian into his pocket.

"I have a request for you," Morgause said, and Leon looked at her curiously.

"Just a little one," Morgana said reassuringly, taking his hand and making sure that the sap of the plant was pressed to his skin. "Easy to fulfil." Leon looked at her, confused for a moment, but then nodded.

"What do you wish me to do?" he asked. His face was clear and unworried and Morgana withdrew her hand as gently as she could.

"The Lady Morgana is unwell," Morgause said. "It might be best if she were to return to Camelot."

"I would be more than willing to escort her," Leon said.

"In time, yes," Morgause said. "However…" she said, and allowed her voice to trail off slightly, leaving Morgana to continue.

"Arthur has such a suspicious mind, don't you think?" she asked lightly. "He might think it was odd if I returned with you now, and I don't want any fuss."

"I am sure he would not refuse you," Leon said, but there was just a tinge of uncertainty in his voice. Morgana hoped it stemmed from the possibility of Arthur refusing to escort her, rather than the idea that she would ask to return.

"I do not doubt him," she said. "Still, it might be best if I were to join you later." She took both of his hands in hers, ignoring the sound of Morgause softly reciting a spell. "When I am ready to return, I will call for you. Will you come and find me?"

"Yes," Leon said without hesitation. "My lady, I will."
Morgana gave him her prettiest smile.

"Now, don't go chattering about this to the others," she said. "This will be out little secret."

"You can trust me," Leon said and Morgana fixed him with her gaze for a moment, before smiling and releasing his hands.

"Until we meet again," she said. She extended her hand and Leon kissed it, a soft brush of lips over her knuckles, before walking away as quietly as he had arrived. Morgana turned away and did not watch him leave.

"You did well," Morgause said softly. "He will do what we need."

Morgana frowned. For a moment, she…but there was no point thinking of it. She nodded her head fiercely and took Morgause's arm.

Merlin waited until they had both spread out their bedrolls before speaking.

"Are you OK?" he asked in a low voice.

"What do you think?" Arthur said, voice equally low. "We can't talk about this now, it's not safe."

"Let's talk about something else, then. Don't you think there's something strange about this?"

"Strange about what?" Arthur asked, straightening his blanket and refusing to look Merlin in the eye.

"Three knights of Camelot getting lost? I thought Cadogan was a good navigator, and I'm sure I've heard you say that Leon is one of the best trackers you've got."

"Everyone makes mistakes," Arthur said. His voice was expressionless, but he was frowning.

"And both of them made one at the same time, and you didn't pick up on it?" Merlin said sceptically. "We must be miles out of our way and seriously, would you say you know for certain where we are?"

"If you're suggesting that this could be magic then I agree with you," Arthur said, so softly Merlin could hardly hear him. "I'm just not sure what you expect me to do about it."

"Shouldn't we warn them?" Merlin said, thinking of the dark and rainy night ahead of them.

"And say what? 'We got lost, it's clearly sorcery'? They'd think my sickness has addled my mind! I'll post a guard, and that's really all I can do."

"I just think we ought to say something," Merlin said stubbornly. Arthur made a frustrated noise.

"They're supposed to be alert anyway," he said, sounding both annoyed and worried. "If you want something said, then you'll have to figure out what to say. Use that idiot charm of yours to be unexpectedly insightful."

There was a pause.

"Did you just call me charming?" Merlin asked.

"Not intentionally," Arthur said. "And I can take it back."

Merlin snorted, and they fell into silence. There was no sign of Leon, and Merlin wasn't sure whether he was glad about this or not. Intellectually, he realised that both he and Arthur needed to eat to keep their strength up, but physically, he didn't like the idea.

Arthur was clearly thinking along the same lines.

"The sickness is getting worse, isn't it?" he said.

"I think so," Merlin said. "I feel it all the time now, not just when…" He stopped abruptly, suddenly regretting the sense of privacy that was allowing them to have this discussion.

"Not just when what?" Arthur said. His voice was pitched lower than usual, and there was a note in it that Merlin had never heard before. He swallowed and didn't answer.

"It's worse when we're apart, isn't it?" Arthur said in a rush.

"Yes," Merlin said reluctantly.

"If this is because we jumped the fire as a couple…" began Arthur, so softly that Merlin had to strain to hear him over the rain on the canvas, "then…"

It was at that point that Sir Leon returned, empty handed. Both Merlin and Arthur scrambled out to meet him.

"No luck?" Arthur asked, and Leon looked at him blankly.

"Catching food? The entire reason for your absence from this camp?"

"Oh," Leon said, looking surprised and faintly ashamed. "Um, no."

"Merlin's incompetence is clearly catching," said Arthur, and stalked back to the tent.

"I was the one who got the fire going!" Merlin said, but he didn't really expect a response and he didn't get one. It was raining, there was no food and Arthur was annoyed again. Merlin sighed and Leon and Cadogan exchanged looks.

"I'll take first watch," Leon said, presumably in the hope that Arthur would be asleep by the time Leon had to get into the tent. Merlin shrugged, and climbed in first, hoping that neither of the knights would notice that he and Arthur hadn't even tried to eat anything. Arthur was already in his bedroll, facing the tent wall, and Merlin followed his example. He doubted that Cadogan would do anything different, and sure enough he just climbed in and lay down. Merlin listened to them breathe for a while, before drifting into sleep.

*

Merlin was awoken by a massive clap of thunder. As it died away, Merlin could hear Leon yelling:

"The horses!"

Cadogan and Arthur both dived for the tent flap, fumbling with the ties for a moment before managing to yank them undone. Merlin scrambled into his britches and struggled out after them.

The rain was now torrential. Leon was struggling with two of the horses; the other two were nowhere to be seen. Cadogan rushed to help him, using his bulk to bring the frantic horses under some vague semblance of control.

"That way!" yelled Leon, jerking his head towards a trail of broken bracken showing which way the horses had gone. Arthur immediately bolted in that direction, and after a second of hesitation, Merlin followed.

It seemed like ages but could only have been minutes before another flash of lightening illuminated one of the horses. The broken tether had caught on a stump and the horse was straining against it, eyes wild.

Arthur dived forward to grab the bridle, trying to calm her before she did herself any more damage.

"Carry on!" he yelled at Merlin, and Merlin did.

As soon as the prince was out of sight, he realised his mistake. He was no tracker at the best of times, and what with the rain and the dark he could barely see anything. He was never going to find the horses, and he'd left Arthur unattended. He turned to head back the way he'd come…and stopped. The path had vanished. Merlin shook the wet hair out of his eyes, as if that would make the track of broken bracken he'd run along visible again. It didn't. He turned slowly on the spot, looking carefully at his surroundings. Around him, the forest loomed. The trees seemed closer together than they had been, the new bracken higher and the old bracken thicker. The only way for Merlin to go was forward. Merlin swore, but did not move, mind racing. Arthur. Find Arthur.

"ic sece Arthur," he said. He felt the strange sort of hitch, the weird impediment he had now he was sharing his power with Arthur, but he forced himself to concentrate, ignoring the nausea in favour of watching as a golden glowing arrow began to shimmer into life in front of him. Then he frowned. Neither end of the arrow pointed along the path the forest wanted him to take, which was not surprising. However, neither of them pointed back towards where he thought he'd left Arthur, either. He sighed, and began to fight his way through the trees. The arrow kept wavering around all over the place, and eventually vanished altogether. Merlin scowled, and was about to cast it again when he saw that the spell had led him directly to one of the horses, the one he had been riding. She didn't seem too concerned about the rain, or the thunder that was still rolling around occasionally, and was just standing, looking at him expectantly.

"I would have thought it would lead me to the horse he was riding," Merlin said aloud, holding out his hand cautiously. "Come here, girl." When she did so, Merlin felt a chill down his spine, a chill not related to the dark and the rain.

"You're the horse Arthur rode the first time we went to find Morgause. Morgause enchanted you to take Arthur to her," he said aloud. "Is that why the spell found you? Was that spell never lifted?"

The horse thankfully didn't answer, just stood quietly and looked at him. Even when another huge crash of thunder made Merlin jump, the horse remained placid, waiting.

"OK," Merlin said aloud. "I need to get back to camp. I need to get you back to camp. The quickest way for me to do that is to ride you. You clearly want me to ride you, but you are equally clearly under some sort of spell, and as it was Morgause last time, I'm betting it's her again."

The horse just kept standing there, eerily still. Merlin sighed, suddenly feeling slightly light headed.

"Well, we can't stand here all night," he said. "I want to get back to my tent, and I quite clearly can't leave you here."

He gritted his teeth, and swung himself clumsily onto the horse's back. He wasn't accustomed to riding bareback, and for an awful moment thought he'd fall right over the other side. Luckily, she still had the remains of her tether which he could use as makeshift reins, and he grabbed onto that, harder than he really would have liked. The horse must have had quite a pull on her mouth, but she didn't make any sign of protest, merely headed off in quite the opposite direction from where Merlin wanted her to go. Merlin gripped hard with his knees and thought of Arthur. It was if doing so suddenly revealed an invisible string between them, stretching out clear and unbreakable between the trees with Arthur at the other end of it. He gasped as a rush of feelings, Arthur's feelings, swept over him. Arthur was out there, cold and wet and slightly nauseous but not in any immediate danger. Merlin didn't know how he was doing it, but he knew that this was his only hope. He gritted his teeth and clung to that string with all of his might, all of his magic. The horse came to a halt, whickering softly.

"Come on, girl," Merlin urged. "Back to Arthur. You remember Arthur, don't you? Blond, bit of a prat but he was always very nice to you. Come on." The horse took a faltering step in the right direction, and then another.

"Yes!" Merlin said. "Come on, girl, we can do it! Back to Arthur, to Arthur, come on!"

Their progress was slow. The storm was passing over now, but it was still raining steadily, and the horse made several more attempts to follow her own path. It was all Merlin could do to keep her on track. He had no idea whether or not Arthur could feel his own thoughts, but he could feel Arthur's and he knew that he was getting more and more agitated, and also feeling sicker and sicker, even though there was still no immediate physical danger. Merlin urged the horse on as well as he could but it still took him far longer than he'd hoped to return to the camp.

Arthur had been pacing around the clearing, and just happened to be closest to Merlin when he finally returned. As soon as Merlin came into sight he dashed over to grab the tether. The rush of relief Merlin felt on seeing him alive and unharmed almost made him fall off his horse. Merlin suspected that it probably would have done if he hadn't been so stiff and sore he was almost glued on.

"What happened to you?" Arthur asked, reaching out a steadying hand to catch Merlin as he half-climbed, half fell from his horse. "You've been gone hours!"

"I have no idea," admitted Merlin, and Arthur snickered weakly, not removing his hand from Merlin's arm even though Merlin was now on solid ground. Leon came over and took the horse from him, and Merlin was only too glad to let her go.

"You need to make sure she's securely tied," he said urgently.

"Of course," Leon said, and then frowned. "Merlin, are you all right? You look pale."

"He always looks pale," said Arthur, hastily releasing Merlin's arm. "But I suspect a little sleep would do him no harm."

"Well, we're up to four horses, the tent is still standing so there's no reason why you shouldn't get some sleep," Cadogan said.

"It's my turn to stand watch," Arthur said. Merlin was just about to argue with him when Cadogan spoke.

"I'll take watch now, you have been ill."

For a moment, Arthur looked as though he were going to argue, but then he nodded slowly.

"Very well, but wake me at once if anything happens," he said. Cadogan nodded and Merlin could finally scramble back into the tent.

Most of their belongings were fairly dry, thanks to Arthur's insistence that things be raised off the floor if possible, but Merlin's bedroll was right in the centre of a small stream that had decided to run right through their tent. He stared blankly at it.

"You'll have to share mine," Arthur said briskly, coming awkwardly into the tent and taking the situation in at a glance. "Do you even have spare clothes? I'm not letting you sleep in those," he said, gesturing at the wet clothes Merlin was wearing.

"I have a shirt," Merlin said, doubtfully.

"Borrow my spare breeches," Arthur said, stripping off his wet top and rummaging in his pack for a dry one. Merlin followed suit, catching the trousers Arthur threw him and pulling them on awkwardly. They were short in the leg and wide around the waist, and Merlin hoped that they would actually stay on. He turned around to say this to Arthur, to find the prince already in the bedroll, watching him with glittering eyes. The words dried up in Merlin's throat and he just looked. He shivered, and Arthur wordlessly pulled back the blanket. Merlin hesitated for a moment, but the desire to be warm overrode self preservation and he wriggled gracelessly in.

"Don't wriggle," Arthur warned him and Merlin shook his head, afraid to speak in case his voice gave him away. There wasn't much room, so he and Arthur were cuddled together like spoons in a drawer and it was giving his body quite the wrong idea. He lay there, achingly hard, feeling Arthur breathe behind him. Even with Leon in the tent with them, Merlin's whole body felt on fire with Arthur's closeness. He thought about that invisible string again. Surely Arthur had felt it then, could feel it now? He wondered what would happen if he just turned over and kissed Arthur now. Leon was asleep and snoring, and with the night they'd had he wouldn't wake. Surely this couldn't be just one way? Arthur moved slightly, a restless little twist and his hand came to rest on Merlin's hip, one finger on a little sliver of skin revealed where his shirt had ridden up. Merlin froze, barely daring to breath. He waited for Arthur to do something, say something, and was about to turn over and say something himself when Arthur let out a soft snore.

Merlin pinched himself, hard. Stupid, stupid, he was so stupid. Of course the string was just his imagination, the magic left in him connected to the magic now in Arthur. Of course Arthur couldn't feel it, of course it didn't go both ways and he'd been so close to…well. Merlin willed his treacherous body to calm down and let him sleep, but even the thought of the incredible humiliation he'd so narrowly avoided wasn't enough to calm him down. He lay awake for what felt like hours and it felt as though he'd barely closed his eyes when he was woken by Arthur struggling out of their blankets.

The wave of nausea that hit him when their skin stopped touching was so strong that Merlin clapped a hand over his mouth. More than half asleep, he moved much harder than he'd meant to and gave himself a blow to the face which made his eyes water. Arthur had frozen and was breathing quickly and shallowly through his nose, mouth tightly shut. Merlin would have said something, but he was very afraid that if he opened his mouth something more than words would come out. Moving blindly, he stretched out his hand and grabbed Arthur's ankle, the closest bit of bare skin he could reach. The nausea slackened immediately, but it was still much stronger than it had ever been before.

"What's happening to us?" Arthur croaked, as soon as he was able to speak. His face was pale and sweaty, and Merlin had never heard him sound so afraid. He stared at Merlin's hand on his ankle as if it were poisonous, and Merlin withdrew it sharply, even though doing so gave them both a sharp stab of nausea.

"We need to fix this now," Arthur said, before scrambling out of the tent so fast that if Merlin hadn't known better he'd have checked to see whether it was on fire. He lay there for a moment, waiting for the rolling in his stomach to ease, before getting out of the bedroll himself. The tent was a mess, and his clothes were just as wet as they'd been when he went to bed. Merlin used a belt of Arthur's to try and anchor Arthur's breeches around his waist, but he knew he looked ridiculous. His main hope was that they'd actually stay on. Not sure whether to get started on the ruin of their equipment now or to get out there and assess the full extent of the damage first, Merlin eventually settled on leaving the tent. The storm seemed to have passed completely and the day was gloriously sunny. Merlin winced and shielded his eyes to look around him. Arthur was on the far side of the clearing, talking to Cadogan who was sitting slumped on a log and looked beyond exhausted. Leon was next to him, looking little better, and only then did it strike Merlin that if either of the knights had been in the tent when he and Arthur awoke they'd have had some very difficult explaining to do. He froze for a second, then forced himself to head over as if nothing had happened.

"…did well," Arthur was saying. "We'll stay where we are today." He looked around, clearly searching for Merlin. When he did see him, he didn't look very amused, but he had clearly decided to try and pretend to be normal.

"You look ridiculous," he said, in a tone which sounded unbearably false to Merlin. "Even more so than usual, and that's saying something." Merlin scowled, unable to think of the comic retort he should have made and there was a slight pause which Arthur hastened to fill. "Breakfast first, and then some sort of clothesline, I think. We'll be staying here today."

Merlin just nodded, hoping that the others were too exhausted to notice anything amiss, and went to see what he could do. The food situation was even worse than the day before, and, after consultation with Leon, in the end Merlin just made the best sort of stew he could out of pretty much all of their remaining supplies.

"We'll need to hunt today," he said as he served up the last of it. "We're very nearly out of food."

"Right," Arthur said. Merlin had only given him a small bowlful, but he was picking at that. Merlin had served himself only out of the need to pretend that things were normal – he had no intention of even trying to eat any of it.

Much to Merlin's surprise, Arthur turned out to be rather good at camp craft. While Merlin had been attempting to fashion an edible breakfast out of the meagre scraps of food they had left, Arthur had been collecting wood long enough to be used as props for their clothesline and found the coil of rope out of their pack. Once everyone had finished eating, Arthur sent Cadogan straight to bed, with instructions to get into dry things if possible and give the wet ones to Merlin.

"There's nowhere to wash anything, assuming we want to keep drinking the water, so we'll just have to settle for getting things dry," Arthur said. He seemed distracted, and twice almost let the props fall as he and Leon struggled to get their impromptu clothes line to the right height. At least once, he caught the prop by magic.

"Come on Merlin, what are you doing?" he asked sharply, as Merlin tried to find somewhere that wasn't already wet to put the massive pile of damp clothing he was carrying. Merlin gave him a look.

"We have soaking wet, very wet, and mostly wet," he said. "And all the ground is sodden, so we have nowhere to put any of this."

"Start putting the wettest things on the sunniest end," Arthur said, with the tone of someone who had never tried to juggle armloads of wet washing. Merlin went to the sunniest end without speaking and began one-handed to try and untangle all the wet clothes, making sure to drop Arthur's favourite shirt in the mud. Arthur made an impatient noise and grabbed a bunch of the clothes from him to hang out himself. Leon prudently retreated to the other end of the clearing and busied himself with rinsing the breakfast bowls.

"You can keep an eye on things here, can't you?" Arthur said casually over his shoulder to Leon as he surveyed the washing line with slightly more triumph than Merlin really felt was necessary. "Merlin and I will go and find us something to eat."

"Yes sire," Leon said, and Merlin silently got their crossbows, wondering whether his skill with the bow would be as much improved as his skill with the sword.

Despite the hunting pretext, Arthur didn't really seem to have hunting on his mind. He didn't really have talking either, and after they'd been walking aimlessly for what seemed like ages, Merlin just stopped.

"Look, Arthur," he said, and then paused, unsure exactly how to go on.

"I know you don't know how to stop it," Arthur said tiredly. "But we have to fix this, Merlin! Anyone could have seen it during that fight, and if what happened this morning happens again… Merlin, this is going to kill us both, one way or another."

"Do you think I don't know that?" Merlin snapped. "I've tried and tried to think of a solution but the only thing that comes to mind…"

He was interrupted by a horrible sort of creaking noise.

"What was that?" he asked, staring around.

"What makes you think that I know that?" Arthur said tartly. "A damaged tree which is about to fall, perhaps?"

"I have never, ever heard a tree make a noise like that," Merlin said. They were standing near the edge of a ravine. Merlin could hear the water thundering through it, the previous night's rain creating a torrent.

There was a sort of glopping sound and both men stared at the ravine, in time to see a huge claw come up and over the side.

"Run?" suggested Merlin, and Arthur agreed, pelting back the way they'd come. The creaking noise, obviously the thing's equivalent of a roar, sounded again and Arthur glanced back, almost stumbling, then said,

"Faster!"

Merlin's breath was harsh in his ears and he was starting to get a stitch in his side.

"We're leading it back towards the camp!" he gasped, when it was clear that the thing was gaining on them. "Do something!"

"No sword!"

Merlin swore, racking his brains before turning to try the spell he'd used on Arthur.

"Freosest!" he yelled. Nothing happened. He felt his magic sort of twitch inside him, but then it died away. "Freosest!" he yelled again. "Freosest, freosest, freosest!" Again, nothing happened, and a wave of nausea came over him, so bad that he almost stopped running. "It's not working!"

"How can it not be working?" shouted Arthur.

"I told you I'd been having problems! FREOSEST!"

"FREOSEST!" Arthur yelled, and the monster froze. Arthur dropped to all fours and began vomiting, and before Merlin had time to think about it, he was doing the same.

"How long does that take to wear off?" Arthur said weakly, when they had finally finished throwing up what felt like everything either of them had eaten for days.

"Don't know," Merlin said hoarsely. "We should move fast."

Arthur gave him a weak glare, and they headed away from the beast as quickly as possible. Arthur meant to take them on a roundabout route to confuse their trail in case the thing got free and could track them, but in the end they were both feeling so ill they stopped trying. It took them a ridiculous time to get back to the camp in any case. By the time they returned, Cadogan had taken over guard and Leon was nowhere to be seen.

"What happened to you two?" Cadogan asked when they finally stumbled into the clearing.

"Monster," Arthur said shortly, collapsing next to the fire.

"Lots of running," Merlin agreed, collapsing next to him. "No swords," he added, at Cadogan's questioning look.

"You didn't take swords?" Cadogan said in disbelief. "Why didn't you use your arrows?" Arthur waved a hand irritably, a faint blush staining his pallid face.

Merlin closed his eyes for a moment and let his attention wander. He probably went to sleep for a moment there, because the next thing he knew, Leon was shaking him.

"...wrong with you two?" he was asking, and Merlin shook his head groggily, sitting up. Arthur was sitting up, but looked as though he'd really rather be lying down.

"You should both get some sleep," Cadogan said, and Merlin was only too happy to follow Arthur to the tent. Leon was nowhere to be seen, which surprised Merlin faintly before he realised that he must have gone hunting. The knights seemed to have moved the tent across slightly, as there was no longer a stream flowing through it, but Merlin crawled into Arthur's bedroll nonetheless and fell asleep almost before he lay down.

Neither he nor Arthur could keep down anything but water for the rest of the day, and by evening it was clear to everyone that there was something seriously wrong.

"What's wrong with you?" Cadogan said bluntly, as he and Leon tucked into a stew made from the very plump rabbits Leon had managed to shoot while Arthur and Merlin had been running from monsters. Arthur looked offended, opened his mouth to say something, but Merlin spoke first.

"We don't know," he said, ignoring the glare Arthur gave him. "We've been like this for days, and it's getting worse. We were hoping to speak to Gaius about it when we got to Camelot…" He trailed off, hoping that he'd said enough.

"If we leave at dawn, we could be back by sundown the day after." Cadogan said, apparently deciding that he didn't really want to know any more than that.

"Can you ride that far in so short a time?" Leon asked, looking closely at Arthur.

"We will try," Arthur said, and Merlin nodded. Cadogan and Leon seemed to have the whole thing worked out, and although Arthur complicated matters the next morning by still being unable to tolerate solid food, they were still on the road barely an hour after sunrise, Leon leading the way and Cadogan bringing up the rear. Despite their situation, Merlin found their silence oppressive. He suggested singing at one point, but Arthur flat-out refused and though Merlin managed two choruses of "Summer nights are short nights but the evenings are certainly long," before Arthur yelled at him to shut up. He pretended that he decided to stop singing because of that, but he was once again having difficulty with his horse. The magic he'd used the night before to keep her on the path and get her back to the clearing clearly hadn't broken Morgause's spell, because she kept pulling to the right, trying to lead him off the path and as he didn't dare to draw on his magic again with Cadogan and Leon so close, Merlin had to turn most of his attention to her. The path itself wasn't very wide, but the surrounding trees were dense, much denser than Merlin remembered, and he was not at all surprised when Leon announced that they were lost again.

"I just don't understand it," Leon said. "I've travelled these woods before, and they're really not that big, but this is the second time in two days that I don't know where we are."

"It's probably the monster, casting some sort of spell," said Merlin.

"What monster?" Leon said sharply.

"The one Merlin and I found yesterday? The one we made ourselves sick by running away from?" Arthur said irritably.

"I do think you should have mentioned this before," Leon said.

"We did mention it!" Merlin said in surprise. "I distinctly remember Cadogan telling Arthur off for not taking a sword."

Leon gave him a disturbed look.

"I don't remember any talk of monsters," he said. "Did you kill it?"

"No, we ran," Merlin said, frowning.

"We are in no shape to go chasing monsters," said Cadogan dourly, and they rode on again in silence. Merlin's horse seemed to have given up fighting him for now, which was lucky as he was running out of energy to control her.

They stopped for lunch at Leon's instruction, despite the fact that neither Merlin nor Arthur felt particularly hungry. The remains of the rabbit stew didn't go very far when divided between four, and Leon and Cadogan spent a good portion of their rest poring over the maps, trying to find somewhere close which would be able to sell them some food. Arthur seemed to have given up; he sat slumped against Merlin, pretending that their hands were brushing by accident rather than because the skin to skin contact was the only thing that could make them feel any better. Merlin was half dozing and he suspected Arthur was the same, because when Arthur spoke, it took him completely by surprise.

"This is magic, isn't it?" he said suddenly, loudly enough for both Cadogan and Leon to look around at him. "We can't be lost. It's got to be magic," Arthur said, and Merlin just nodded.

"Any suggestions?" he asked, but both Cadogan and Leon shook their heads and Arthur cursed.

"We should go," Leon said, with a worried look around the clearing. "It's probably not safe to stay here for very long, especially with the Crown Prince in this sort of state."

"Easier to go if we knew where we were going," Cadogan said. "Magical woods aren't on our maps, and even if they were, there's one path and one path alone, no forks."

"It must be here to hide something," Arthur said. "Maybe there's something here that someone doesn't want us to find."

"Maybe it's the Lady Morgana!" exclaimed Leon. "She hasn't been seen since she was taken. If she's here, we must find her!" he continued, more animated than Merlin had ever seen him. Leon's face was flushed and his eyes were bright, and he no longer seemed even faintly concerned that the Crown Prince was lost, ill and barely guarded in a probably-magical wood. Merlin shot a helpless look at Arthur.

"The four of us cannot search these woods," Arthur said gently. "Even if we had more men, more supplies, it couldn't be done."

"We can't just leave her!" Leon said. "We must save her!"

"We must get Arthur back to Camelot," Merlin said, not quite daring to look in Arthur's direction. "He's barely eaten in days, we need Gaius to look at him."

"He ate quite well this morning," Leon said.

"He didn't eat anything this morning!" Merlin snapped. "Have you hit your head on something?"

"He could be better," Leon said stubbornly.

"He's not better," Cadogan said. "The pair of them can hardly move."

"Well, maybe the Lady Morgana would help them," said Leon. "I refuse to continue without her!"

"Tell him he's talking rubbish and we're going back to Camelot," Merlin said. "This doesn't make any sense, you know it doesn't!" Cadogan nodded, but Arthur looked… Merlin felt a sinking feeling in his stomach as he realised that Arthur looked as though he felt sorry for Leon.

"What makes you think Morgana is near here?" Arthur said gently.

"I just know she is. She's here and it's our duty to rescue her," Leon said staunchly. His face was set, flushed but determined, and his hand was on the hilt of his sword.

"We will look for two days," Arthur said, not meeting anyone's eyes. "If there's no sign of her by then, we must go on."

"Thank you, sire," Leon said fervently, and Merlin threw up his hands in disgust.

"I must protest," Cadogan said. "You two are in no condition to go anywhere other than Camelot."

"Which way do we go to get there, then?" Arthur said, and Cadogan clenched his jaw. Arthur nodded grimly. "We can't let Leon go alone, and as we have no idea how to get back to Camelot in any case, looking for Morgana probably won't hurt."

Conversation that night was sparse. Merlin was too miserable to bother; let Leon think he was sulking about looking for Morgana if he wanted to. Arthur and Leon kept up idle chat for a while, and Merlin tuned it out in favour of brooding. Cadogan, no talker at the best of times, was silent too, and eventually Merlin couldn't take it any more.

"I'll take second watch," he said abruptly. "I'll go to bed now, and you can wake me when it's time."

"Go ahead," said Arthur, not looking at him, and Merlin stumbled to the tent, grateful for once that they were sharing it with Leon so he wouldn't have to be alone with Arthur. He struggled into his bedroll and closed his eyes, determined to sleep and block out the day.

He wasn't really surprised when Arthur joined him. Although they now had enough blankets for them to have separate bedrolls, Arthur climbed in next to him, sliding one hand under Merlin's shirt to rest flat against his stomach. Merlin inhaled sharply and Arthur froze.

"I'm sorry," Arthur whispered. "This hurts, Merlin, I need…" and Merlin didn't think, just rolled over and kissed him. Arthur made a soft little noise and kissed back desperately, and Merlin could feel that invisible string as strong as ever, pulling them closer with every move they made. Merlin wanted to obey it, wanted to hold Arthur close and never let him go, but then Arthur jerked his head away.

"Wha…" Merlin said, and Arthur slapped his hand over Merlin's mouth as he put some distance between them. Seconds later, Leon opened the tent flap.

Merlin felt a wave of pure frustration tear through him. He glared at Arthur in the dim light. Arthur looked tense and strained and unwell. He moved his hand slowly from Merlin's mouth, and then slowly fitted himself back into the bedroll so that only their hands were touching. If Leon had noticed what they had been doing, he said nothing, and in the end, Merlin fell into an uneasy sleep.

*

"I'm sorry about last night," Arthur said in a low voice, not meeting Merlin's eyes as he disentangled himself as quickly as he could from their pile of blankets. "It was wrong of me to take advantage."

Merlin groaned, barely awake enough to realise he was being spoken to, let alone understand what was being said.

"Take advantage?" he said blearily. At that moment, Arthur broke the contact between them and the rush of nausea stopped Merlin saying anything else. Arthur, perhaps because he'd been the one to break the contact, seemed slightly less affected and crawled slowly out of the tent before Merlin could gather brains or breath enough for reply. Muttering under his breath, he followed Arthur as fast as he could, only to find him already deep in conversation with Sir Cadogan. Leon was busily poking the fire, but he jumped up as soon as he saw Merlin.

"I'll make a start on packing up," he said, and was in the tent before Merlin could speak. No one seemed to be cooking anything, and though part of Merlin was grateful for that, another part was getting seriously worried. A brief forage around the campsite turned up nothing edible, not even a mushroom.

"How long since we actually caught any food?" he asked, interrupting Cadogan and Arthur without a second thought. Both Cadogan and Arthur frowned.

"Leon caught some rabbits a few days ago," Cadogan said, after a moment's pause.

"I thought that was yesterday," Arthur said, but he looked doubtful.

"We need to get out of here," Merlin said bluntly. "Whatever's going on, if we just go on as we have been we'll probably all die of starvation."

"Well, what do you suggest?" Arthur said sharply. "Stay still?"

"No," Merlin said. "I think we should go off the path."

"And how, exactly, are we meant to do that? This terrain isn't the easiest to navigate, in case it had escaped your notice. If we don't stick to the paths, we'll have to leave the horses and I don't fancy carrying the tent, do you?" Arthur made no attempt to soften his words, and Merlin glared at him, pushing away the flicker of hurt.

"I don't fancy starving to death, either," he said.

"We're sticking to the path and that's final," said Arthur. "Now, if you've quite finished arguing with me, you could go and give Leon a hand with that tent."

Merlin stomped off to do as he was told. Leon was clearly in a hurry and wasn't as gentle or as cautious as he could have been. Twice, Merlin only just prevented the tent pole snagging on the canvas and once he nearly got caught in the guy ropes. Leon apologised profusely each time, but by the time they'd got the tent down Merlin was feeling battered and bruised, not to mention light-headed.

As he got wearily onto his horse, every inch of his body protesting at once again being back in that hated saddle, Merlin let his mind drift. At first, his horse seemed content to follow the others but then she edged herself gently towards the right, and Merlin just let her go.

"Merlin?" he heard Cadogan say, but Merlin didn't feel obliged to answer.

"Merlin!" snapped Arthur. "What are you doing?"

"This is the horse which took you to Morgause," Merlin said, reining her in slightly but allowing her to go in the direction she chose. "Morgause is with Morgana." He made sure to say this loudly enough for Leon to hear. Leon did not disappoint him.

"Perhaps the horse can lead us to Morgana!" he said, riding awkwardly back along the trail until he was alongside Merlin.

"This is deliberate disobedience!" snapped Arthur, and Merlin gave him a smile that had no hint of amusement in it.

"Look," said Cadogan. The landscape in front of Merlin was reshaping itself, shifting and sliding into new shapes. The ground felt steady and every tree Merlin looked at was still and unmoving but a path was opening up in front of him, just barely big enough for two horses to walk abreast.

"Come on," Cadogan said, and he and Arthur hurried to catch up. Merlin allowed his mount to travel more quickly, and they pressed ahead.

"They're coming," Morgause said, a dark note of satisfaction in her voice. "Are you ready?"

"Yes." Morgana took a deep breath, thinking of what was to happen next. There would be no mistakes, no hesitation, no room for doubt. Merlin had entrusted his magic to Arthur so Arthur would break the spell, Morgana would take the cup and then Merlin would be dealt with. She nodded her head firmly. That was how it was going to be.

The horse led them to the Isle of the Blessed. None of the knights showed any signs of recognition, but Merlin knew it immediately, even though they'd approached it from the opposite side. He sat up so sharply that his horse shifted uncertainly. Now that the island was in sight, she seemed to have lost her focus and Merlin brought her to a halt without any trouble. A movement on his left drew his attention, and he glanced at Arthur as he brought his own horse alongside. Arthur too was sitting up straighter than he had for days. All traces of anger had gone from his face and he was staring at the island with a strange, hungry expression. Merlin could feel the tug of magic at the edge of his consciousness, but nothing like that feeling of age and power he'd experienced the last time that he came.

"We need to get over there," Leon and Arthur said at the same time, and Cadogan frowned.

"Sire," he said, "We need to return to Camelot. This lake must be on our maps and now we are out of that infernal wood we should be able to find our way home."

Arthur ignored him as if he hadn't spoken, and he kept edging his horse forwards.

'He'll be in the lake in a minute,' Merlin thought, strangely unworried by this.

"Merlin," Arthur said. "Find a boat." Merlin hoped that the flicker of gold he saw in Arthur's eyes was his own imagination.

"Arthur, I...."

"Find it!" snapped Arthur, and Merlin felt the power, his own power, push at him and he struggled to keep his seat as his horse reared under him.

"Stop it!" he said sharply, and the pressure ceased. Arthur had the good grace to look sheepish, but that hungry expression was on his face again and Merlin wondered how long it would be before he did something that would give them away. Not that he thought that Leon would notice anything at this point. He was staring at the island with the same expression as Arthur, but Merlin didn't feel obliged to help him.

"There must be a boat," Arthur said, looking around. Merlin felt the tug that he had come to realise was Arthur accessing his magic, and did his best to keep his face impassive, grateful that Arthur's back was to the others. Merlin wasn't sure whether the boat itself was magical or whether it could only be seen when a magic user had summoned it, but he suddenly became aware that there was a small boat floating in the reeds off to their left. Unfortunately, Arthur and Leon both spotted it at the same time.

"There we go!" Leon said, dismounting easily and moving towards the boat much more quickly than Merlin liked.

"That boat will not take four," Cadogan said, jumping hastily from his own horse with scant care for the effect of his actions on his mount who whickered and stamped warningly.

"Leon," Merlin said quickly, and Cadogan darted forward and grabbed Leon's arm. The effect was electric – Leon turned and in one smooth movement punched Cadogan in the stomach. His own momentum carrying him forward into the blow, Cadogan could do little in the way of dodging, but even as he fell to the ground he kept his grip on Leon's arm. Arthur leapt from his own horse but stumbled and almost fell when his feet hit the ground. Merlin was off his own horse and supporting him almost before he realised that he'd moved, feeling the electric charge of their proximity even through the dizziness and nausea that sent black spots across his vision. Arthur jerked away from him and sent them both sprawling. Cadogan and Leon were struggling on the ground, but Cadogan had been winded by Leon's first blow and was clearly coming off worst. Merlin crawled over to help him, but Leon was fighting like a madman and it was only when Arthur gathered enough strength to join in that they were able to restrain him. Merlin felt that magical tug again and Leon went limp. Arthur made an awful noise, dry heaving, and Merlin swallowed down his own desire to vomit and instead struggled to the packs and made an attempt at tying up Leon with one of the guy ropes. Cadogan, breath coming more easily now, sat up and took over and Merlin sat back on his heels, thinking.

"You'll have to stay and keep an eye on him and the horses," he said. Cadogan shook his head.

"I cannot let you and the prince go alone," he said. "He can barely stand!"

"There's barely room for two in the boat," Merlin said. "We need you here, looking after the horses."

He would have said more, but Arthur was on his feet and beginning to move towards the boat.

"Sword, Arthur," Merlin said, and the look of surprise Arthur sent in his direction must surely give them away if nothing else had. Arthur allowed Merlin to fasten a sword around his waist but he started heading for the boat as soon as the buckle was fastened. Merlin hastily grabbed Arthur's spare sword and scabbard and hurried after him. Not a moment too soon. As soon as Arthur stepped into the boat it began to move away from the bank. Cadogan let out a surprised shout and Merlin ran, just barely managing to propel himself into the boat before it was out in the open water and moving swiftly towards the island. He spared a glance back towards Cadogan, who was standing up to his knees in the water and staring after them. Merlin felt a pang of guilt, but swiftly pushed it aside. He had more pressing concerns, after all.

"How does the boat know where we're going?" Arthur said, not seeming to realise he'd almost left Merlin behind.

"There's only one place that this boat goes to," Merlin said, kneeling tentatively in the bottom of the boat to fasten on his sword.

"And that is?" Arthur said dryly, sounding more like himself than he had for some time.

"The Isle of the Blessed," Merlin said. "The centre of the Old Religion, the land of life and death."

"I can feel the power," Arthur said, and Merlin looked away.

"Does it always feel like this?" Arthur said. "The pulling, the…" he trailed off incoherently with a sound of frustration.

"I don't remember how it felt the last time I came here," Merlin said.

"You've been here before? When?" Arthur asked.

"The bite of the Questing Beast is always fatal," Merlin said flatly. "I came here to trade my life for yours."

Arthur blinked, staring at him. "You're still alive," he said, sounding just slightly uncertain and Merlin would have laughed if everything hadn't been such a mess.

"Nimueh, the priestess, tried to trick me, tried to take my mother's life instead," he said. "In the end, the life taken was hers." He fell silent, thinking of the lightening bolt he had brought down to send Nimueh through the gates in Arthur's place.

Before Arthur could decide which of his questions to ask first, the boat came to rest against the little pier and Merlin, mindful of what had happened when Arthur got into the boat, made sure that he got out first. Despite his slightly improved spirits, Arthur was weak as a kitten and Merlin practically had to haul him from the boat. Arthur let go of him as soon as he could, and Merlin eyed the steep and rocky path with misgiving.

"If you fall down that you're going to do yourself serious damage," he said. Arthur was staring at the path with a calculating expression, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

"This is ridiculous, you have to let me help you," Merlin said in frustration.

"I can manage," Arthur said shortly.

"You'll fall and kill yourself, and with things…with things between us the way they are now that will probably kill me as well," Merlin snapped.

Arthur glared at him and Merlin glared right back.

"Fine," Arthur ground out at last. He began to make his way slowly up the path, and Merlin stayed close enough to steady him with a careful hand whenever it was needed. It was needed far more often than Merlin liked. He didn't feel much more coordinated now than he had been before, only noticed a difference in battle when he had a sword in his hand, but Arthur…

"Is it the magic, putting you off?" he said, when Arthur stumbled for the third time in as many minutes.

"No wonder you're such a clumsy oaf," Arthur snarled. "This is intolerable."

"It's usually fine," Merlin said, giving up on trying to pretend his support was sporadic and just putting his arm through Arthur's. It was a mark of how ill Arthur felt that he allowed this. A treacherous part of Merlin wanted to think that Arthur in fact moved closer than was strictly necessary, and he scowled.

When they finally reached the top, Merlin stared out over that horribly familiar space. If he'd been asked to describe it, he'd never have been able to do so, but seeing it again, now, it was as familiar as if he'd been there days, not years, before. The cup still stood on the altar where he had left it, unable to think of what else to do with it, and the spot where Nimueh had died still showed scorched earth. He felt the remains of his magic flicker within him, drawing him towards the altar, and Arthur actually took some stumbling steps forwards before Merlin could stop him.

"What are you doing?" said Arthur. "We need to be over there!"

"We don't, not yet," Merlin said. "Arthur, this place hasn't changed at all since I came here, and that was over two years ago. The plants haven't even grown back where Nimueh died."

"And we'll find the answer over there, on the altar," Arthur said, trying to move forward again.

"Will you stop it?" Merlin said. "You're the one who's supposed to be able to do tactics and stuff – doesn't any of this strike you as being a bit weird? We need to wait, work out what we're dealing with."

Arthur let out a bitter laugh and turned aside slightly to send a bolt of light arcing from his fingers.

"Don't," said Merlin sharply. "You mustn't misuse it, especially not here."

"I can't control this," Arthur said desperately. "All I can feel is that we need to go forwards."

"I really think we shouldn't," Merlin said, but his magic was flickering inside him and there was something going on, something he was missing. Everything felt still and heavy, as if the whole place was waiting for something, but it felt familiar too, beyond the familiarity of a place he'd been to before. It felt almost like being in his own bedroom or reliving a familiar daydream, as though there were traces of his mind outside his own head and woven around the clearing. He was so distracted by this thought, and the flash of nausea which accompanied his automatic attempt to draw on his magic, that he barely noticed when Arthur took a step forwards. Merlin only realised what was happening when he felt the additional rush of disorientation which now accompanied the cessation of physical contact with Arthur, and though he made a clumsy grab for him, he was too late.

"Arthur, stop!" he yelled, lunging forwards, but Arthur had already crossed the boundary at the edge of the ruins. Even with his magic so limited, Merlin could feel the rush of magic around them, a ripping, tearing feeling. Arthur yelled in shock and fell to his knees, retching, and Merlin stared around as…something happened. The clearing seemed to be flickering around the edges. It wasn't as simple as two years' worth of grass all growing at once, but the heavy stillness lifted, there was a feeling of movement and the sensation of unreal familiarity lifted, as though Arthur's crossing the boundary was the equivalent of swiping a hand through a spider web and sending the loose ends flapping away. Arthur was already attempting to get back on his feet and Merlin moved to help him.

"What was that?" Arthur said as Merlin gave up any pretence of dignity and just hauled him to his feet, slipping an arm around his waist to ensure he didn't just drop right back down again. Arthur clearly recognised the wisdom of this because he put his own arm around Merlin's waist, awkward but there. It was at this point he realised that they were no longer alone.

Morgause and Morgana were standing at the opposite side of the ruins. Morgause looked as strong as ever, dressed in her armour with a sword at her side. Morgana looked…well, dreadful was the word that came to mind. She was leaning on Morgause's arm and Merlin wondered whether she was actually able to walk unaided. Always pale, she was now chalk white and stick thin, and her eyes burned brilliantly in that white face.

"Magic," Morgause said, her voice carrying across the ruins as though she were standing right next to them. "Very powerful magic, designed to keep out all but the one who put it there," she continued.

"But we got in," Arthur said, sounding bemused. Merlin frantically searched his memories of his last visit, wondering whether he'd seen anyone else, any other sorcerer.

"You got in because you are with Merlin," Morgause said softly. "Because you have his magic."

'So that explains it,' thought Merlin, then shrank from the thought in horror. That feeling of familiarity, of total recall he'd had when he reached the ruins… He had walked around them after Nimueh's death, thinking that the chalice was so powerful that it ought to be protected somehow…but he couldn't have, surely he couldn't have cast a spell as powerful as this without even knowing about it?

"How do you know that?" Arthur said defensively, taking his arm from Merlin's waist and standing upright. Merlin barely noticed. His mind was working at top speed, putting together the events of the last few weeks and getting an entirely different picture from them.

"It is plain to those with eyes to see," Morgause said. "I do not know why he entrusted it to you, but as our plan would not have succeeded without it I am thankful he did."

For the first time, she turned her gaze on Merlin. Her eyes were full of hatred, and this was personal, Merlin realised, this wasn't some abstract bargain, this was about him.

"You poisoned my sister, warlock," she said. "Even now, she does not recover."

"You were going to destroy Camelot," Merlin said. "You left me no choice." He was proud of the fact that his voice did not waver.

"Do you see what you've done to me?" Morgana said harshly. Her voice, once so lilting, was now a harsh croak, as though every word had to be forced out over a layer of glass. She stared at Merlin, then turned to Arthur imploringly. "I am dying, Arthur, and only water from the Cup of Life can save me."

"You can't have it!" Merlin said. "I will not let you take it!"

"You have given away your magic," Morgause said silkily. "How do you think you will stop me?" She strode forward and before he could think better of it, Merlin had his borrowed sword in hand and was standing in front of the altar.

"Merlin, no!" Arthur said, and a flicker of power shot from his hand to earth itself in the ground in front of Morgause, who prudently halted.

"Such concern from a prince to his servant," she said. "He's got you just where he wants you, hasn't he, Sire?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Arthur said. "Merlin hasn't got me anywhere."

"You always were such a bad liar," Morgana said. "He's got you wrapped around his little finger, why else would you take his word over that of your own mother?"

"How do…" Merlin asked, then cut himself off. "That wasn't his mother, that was a trick," he said. "You created an illusion and put words in her mouth, she didn't say one word you hadn't scripted." He didn't dare take his eyes from Morgause to see how Arthur was taking this, and she smirked at him.

"You deceive yourself if you believe that her words were not true, and worse, you deceive the prince," Morgause said.

"My father would not lie to me," Arthur said, and Morgana let out a bitter, mocking laugh.

"Uther would lie to you until he was blue in the face if it suited him to do so, and you know it," she said. "And I see that Merlin is the same. Tell me, Arthur, do you think they lie to you because they can't be bothered telling you things that are awkward for them or because they don't think you mentally capable of making decisions for yourself and find it easier to just make them for you?"

"I make my own decisions," Arthur said, but Merlin could feel his confusion and hurt flickering along the bond between them.

"And you would have let your father live if Merlin had told you the truth?" Morgause said. "How can you trust his motives when he's been lying to you as long as you've known him?"

"My motive is Camelot," Merlin said quickly, before Arthur could speak. "Arthur knows that, he's always known that. No one can question my loyalty."

Morgause had moved closer under the cover of their discussion, and Merlin suddenly realised that if she took one more step, she would be within range of his sword. There was only one thing he could do.

"The dead should stay that way," he said. "Queen Ygraine is not a puppet, to speak the words you choose. Perhaps you will use the cup to restore Morgana at first, but once you have it you will be able to do anything. We've fought your dead knights, we've spoken to the shades you have conjured and I will not give you any more power to drag them from their rest."

He raised the sword, feeling the bond between him and Arthur flicker. He couldn't spare much attention for Arthur's feelings but he tried to send his faith and loyalty along the bond. If Arthur didn't trust him by now, joined as they were…

A strange calm settled over Merlin. He was on his own, no magic, no back up, just himself.

"I will not let you take it," he said, and lunged. Morgause jumped out of the way, but Merlin felt the sword connect, scraping along her armour with a metallic screech. He could hear Morgana yelling, but she sounded tinny and far away. Morgause had her sword in her hand now, but she was favouring her left side. Merlin knew that if she had time to cast a spell then he was lost. He darted forward again, and his sword met hers with a resounding clang. He realised that he was smiling, or doing something similar, and the sword in his hand felt as though it had always been there. Morgana's voice in the background resolved itself into chanting, and Merlin smoothly disengaged and struck again, battering Morgause back and away from the cup. He must not falter, must not stumble, must not pause. Morgana's voice was getting louder, and even in his strangely magic-deprived state Merlin could feel the building up of power, magnified by the ruins and almost ready to be released. He knew that when it was, he would die, and he lifted the sword again.

"If I die, I'm taking you with me," he yelled, and suddenly he felt a massive tug and a ringing silence. Arthur was standing with one hand on the altar, and in the other hand he held the cup. Both Morgause and Morgana were frozen and Merlin's own movements were slowed almost to the point of stillness.

"To Camelot," Arthur said. He leaned back and threw the cup. It rose high up into the sky, and Merlin felt that tug again and Arthur was now gripping the altar with both hands but Merlin could feel his determination. He had no idea what Arthur was trying to do but he turned all his strength to helping him, poured all that remained of his magic down the bond between them, supporting and shaping the wave of power Arthur. The effort made him dizzy; forgetting Morgause and Morgana so close he sank down to his knees on the grass, so much of his strength gone to Arthur that he could no longer remain upright.

And suddenly there was noise again. Merlin flinched, waiting for Morgause's sword to fall, but nothing happened and he realised he could not hear her. Morgana's chanting had stopped, and if she had cast any spell it had not affected them. Merlin slowly raised his head and looked around him. Arthur was slumped against the altar, much as Gaius had been and Merlin felt his heart clench before realising that the prince was still breathing and their connection was unbroken. Morgana and Morgause were nowhere to be seen, and neither was the cup.

Slowly, Merlin crawled across the grass to Arthur's side, falling heavily against him. Arthur didn't protest, just reached for Merlin's hand and Merlin felt blackness sweep over him.

*

He was floating, floating somewhere golden. Arthur was there, watching him with the expression of puzzled amusement that Merlin had grown so used to.

"Magic," one of them said, and Merlin felt a wave of deep happiness wash over him. Arthur was laughing, and he was laughing too, and Merlin was almost disappointed when the dream faded and he found himself sprawled on the cold grass.

Arthur was watching him cautiously.

"I would never have let you die," he said, and Merlin just nodded.

"Your mother rests," he said softly, and Arthur gave him a glance that spoke volumes.

"Your father will be with us for some time to come," Merlin added, and Arthur snorted reluctantly.

"What happened to her?" he said, and Merlin told him the story as best as he could, including his own dealings with Nimueh and the powers of the cup. He didn't try to garnish it in any way, and Arthur listened to it all in silence. He didn't speak when Merlin finished, and Merlin let him be silent.

"Where did you send the cup?" he asked eventually.

"I don't know," Arthur said. "Out of harm's way, I hope, though I suspect that Morgause will never give up on her quest for the grail."

"Morgana will die," Merlin said and Arthur nodded, slowly.

They drifted into silence then, and sat for some time. Merlin gradually became aware that Arthur's thumb was tracing circles on his hand and that the string between them, quietened by the combined use of magic, was tugging again.

"I've wanted this for a long time," Arthur said hoarsely. Merlin didn't have to ask what.

"I didn't know," he said. "I thought it was just me," and Arthur let out a shaky breath.

"Is this part of the spell, the Beltane ritual?" Arthur asked, "creating something where there's nothing there?"

Merlin laughed.

"This is because we're two sides of the same coin," he said, moving so that when he kissed Arthur, their lips met perfectly. Merlin could feel the magic everywhere they touched. It danced under Arthur's skin, and everywhere Arthur touched him felt on fire.

It was never going to last long – Merlin had wanted it for too long, spent too long thinking it was never going to happened and been too recently teased with the suggestion that it might happened after all to have any desire to draw things out. Arthur seemed to feel the same because he was scrabbling to get his hands on Merlin's skin, struggling to unfasten his breeches Merlin followed his example, yanking at Arthur's laces as Arthur pushed him onto his back.

Merlin lost it as soon as he felt Arthur's hand on him, but it hardly mattered because Arthur's eyes had gone far away and he was coming too. The bond between them tightened to nothing before fading away.

They lay there panting for a moment, then Arthur adjusted his weight so that he was pressing against Merlin rather than pressing down on him.

"The spell is broken," Arthur said, and he sounded strange, almost bereft.

"I'm looking forward to living without nausea and dizziness," Merlin said.

"Well, yes," said Arthur.

"And at least now you won't do magic whenever I drop something," Merlin continued.

"Which is entirely too often," Arthur said. "No one should be as clumsy as you."

Merlin laughed. "I can't help it," he said, expecting Arthur to retort something about his inability to learn from his mistakes, but Arthur said nothing. Merlin pressed a kiss to the curve of his jaw, and Arthur moved so he could look him in the eye.

"I don't need a spell to know what you're thinking," Merlin said affectionately, before Arthur could speak. "I could write a book on the proper care and feeding of you. Relax," he said, when Arthur twitched slightly. "Our destinies are bound together. Wherever you go, I go, for now and for as long as you want it."

"And what about what you want?" Arthur said, as if it hurt him to ask.

"That is what I want," Merlin said, surprised. "And you know me, Arthur, if I'm not happy about something I let you know."

Arthur smiled, a big, genuine smile.

"Suddenly, I'm having second thoughts," he said happily, leaning in for a kiss. "You're going to be insufferable."

"Oh, I'm sure you'll suffer me. Or, more likely, make me suffer."

"One of the above," Arthur said. Then he sighed. "I suppose we'd better be getting back, find out whether Leon is still under their spell."

"I don't think he is," Merlin said, sitting up reluctantly and trying to clean himself up a bit. "It feels different here now," he added, watching Arthur adjust his own clothing with a tinge of regret.

"Well, it's not locked up any more," Arthur pointed out.

"It's not just that," Merlin said, looking at the patch of scorched earth where Nimueh had met her death. Was it him or did it look different now? He stared at it for a moment, then shrugged. "Come on, let's go home," he said, and led the way back to the boat.

The End

Art link: The wonderful drawings are here! Please thank Reni_M, she did a wonderful job!