Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"Merlin!" called Gaius from outside Merlin's door. "Time for breakfa--" He opened the door and stopped abruptly.

"Um," said Merlin, fidgeting.

"No. Whatever you have in mind, the answer is no," said Gaius sharply. His eyes drifted down Merlin's body, then jerked firmly up again.

Merlin smoothed down his skirts nervously. He must've gotten shorter by at least a foot, because his eyes were right in line with Gaius' disapproving eyebrow. "Listen, you know how Lady Etheldred won't let me into her room--"

"It doesn't matter."

"--because she's paranoid about anyone male near her precious little--"

"Careful, Merlin," said Gaius warningly.

"--niece, Gaius. That's all I was going to say. Anyway, I don't trust that old bat as far as--"

"You don't have to trust her, she's a noblewoman--"

"--I can kick her, and Morgana agrees, and I can't very well search her room if I can't--"

"Merlin!" This time Gaius' voice was sharp enough to stop him. "Why doesn't Morgana see what she can find?"

"She tried! But Lady Etheldred wouldn't exactly leave her alone in there, would she?"

"And you think she'd leave you because you're..." Gaius gestured at Merlin's person, currently smaller, softer, and curvier than usual.

"Servants are invisible," said Merlin. It was really strange to have such a high voice. "No one will even notice me."

Gaius did not appear convinced of that.

Merlin went to Morgana's room first, because if anything went wrong, she was the one who'd promised to help him out of trouble. Showing his magic to Morgana and agreeing to teach her control her own had made life in Camelot infinitely more comfortable for him.

"Yes?" said Gwen when she opened Morgana's door.

"Oh, I'm... here to see Lady Morgana," said Merlin. Probably he should have considered that Gwen might be there. It was very odd to have Gwen giving him the polite smile of a stranger.

"Who is it, Gwen?" Morgana came into sight behind her maidservant. Merlin sent her an imploring look, and after a brief moment, Morgana's eyes widened. "Oh yes! Come in! ...Marian, wasn't it?" she said, with just the slightest hesitation.

"Yes, my lady," said Merlin. He probably should have thought about what name he'd use, too. Maybe Gaius was right, and he was taking this business of changing his form a little too casually.

"Marian is new to Camelot," Morgana was telling Gwen. "I helped her get a position in the castle, and find something suitable to wear." She looked Merlin over critically. "That dress is a little larger on you than I'd expected. You seemed taller before."

"Er... sorry," said Merlin, trying an experimental curtsey. It wasn't graceful, but he did manage not to fall over.

Morgana grinned wickedly. Gwen suppressed her own smile and said, "Here, I can help fix your laces." She came forward and began tugging at the lacing on Merlin's bodice. "Where are you from, Marian?" she asked kindly.

Right, he probably ought to have thought about his fictional history as well. "A tiny village," said Merlin. "I'm sure you wouldn't have heard of it." In a sudden burst of inspiration, he added, "Actually, it was mostly destroyed last year. By a griffin."

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" said Gwen.

Merlin ducked his head at the honest sympathy in her face, feeling like a complete ass. "A very brave man led the griffin away," he added, and saw Gwen flush a little, her expression softening. Even hinting about Lance did that to her.

"Mmm. It would take a very brave man to tangle with a griffin," said Morgana with a knowing smirk. Merlin resisted the urge to scowl at her.

"Has the steward given you an assignment already, Marian?" asked Gwen, giving a last tug to Merlin's laces. She stepped back to survey him critically.

"I'm to help clean Lady Etheldred's rooms."

Gwen bit her lip in worry. "Oh, that can't be right. Lady Etheldred is a guest; he wouldn't assign someone new to her."

"Er... he said she was difficult to please?" Merlin offered. "But that she seemed to prefer servants who were more... um, quiet?" He hunched a little, trying to appear meek. It would be more accurate to say that Lady Etheldred seemed to prefer servants she could browbeat without difficulty.

"Well, this won't do," said Morgana with decision. "Marian, I'll walk you to Lady Etheldred's room and see if I can lure the lady out for a walk so you can clean in peace. And later I'll speak with the steward; there must be another assignment he can find for you."

"I can go find him now--" Gwen began.

"No, I'd like to speak with him myself," said Morgana. "Don't trouble yourself. Come along, Marian." She swept out the door and Merlin hurried after.

"You're quite fetching in this shape," Morgana murmured along an empty stretch of corridor as they neared Lady Etheldred's chambers.

Merlin scowled at her. "This is strange enough, Morgana. Please don't make it worse."

"You must give me a chance to dress you properly before you change back. A little lip paint, a low-cut gown..."

"Morgana!" Merlin hissed.

She laughed softly. "Wait here. And don't forget to act timid while you're a girl. I think our story for why you leave will be that you found serving in a grand castle just too overwhelming." She smirked at Merlin's glare before going to knock on Lady Etheldred's door.

Merlin slipped into an alcove, listening to the low murmur of voices, and tried to school himself to be timid. It felt as foreign as this body did.

Morgana was bloody clever; she didn't try to feign any true interest in Lady Etheldred, but pretended to let the woman weasel out of her that she'd been ordered by Uther to make nice to their guest. Lady Etheldred, unable to resist the opportunity to annoy Morgana with her company, fetched her shawl. She was already expounding on the inferior nature of Camelot's staff as they walked away.

Merlin, as he routinely did, thanked the gods that Morgana was his ally.

He slipped inside Lady Etheldred's rooms. They wouldn't be unoccupied; her niece, Lady Hope, had taken ill on the journey and hadn't left her chambers in the four days since their arrival. So Merlin was careful to keep his behavior consistent with his supposed role until he could see how things lay. He scurried over to the sitting room hearth first, building up the fire again, and then went into the bedroom to perform the same service.

"Who are you?" a quiet voice said from the bed.

Merlin stumbled to a halt, opening his eyes wide in alarm. "Forgive me, my lady!" he said, attempting another clumsy curtsey. "I was sent to clean your rooms! Did I wake you?"

"You aren't one of the servants who came before." The lady in the bed was pale and sluggish, her eyes slightly unfocused. Her voice was oddly dreamy.

Merlin dropped his gaze again. "No, my lady. I'm new. I'm sorry." He chanced another look at her. "Er... should I keep on..."

"Go on," said Lady Hope, waving a hand languidly.

He tended the fire, thinking furiously. He'd spent enough time with Gaius; whatever was wrong with Lady Hope, it didn't look like the chill that Lady Etheldred had claimed. When he glanced over his shoulder again, her eyes were closed.

That was an opportunity he couldn't pass up. Merlin stoked the fire, using the noise to cover the sound of him whispering, "Swefe."

He abandoned the fire and stood. "My lady?" he asked tentatively. When there was no response, he padded to the bed and touched Lady Hope's shoulder. Her breathing remained soft and even. The sleeping spell had worked.

Right, then. Time to work out what was going on here.

Chapter Text

"And I'll be having a very strong word with your steward!" Lady Etheldred snapped as she shoved Merlin out the door of her chambers some time later. "Lady Hope is not to be disturbed under any circumstances!"

"Yes, my lady! I'm so sorry, my lady!" Merlin squeaked. He scurried away as the door was slammed behind him.

A pair of maids gave him a curious look as he neared the corner. "She's a fright, isn't she?" asked one in a sympathetic whisper.

"Who are you, then?" asked the other, less friendly. "I haven't seen you before."

"Ah, Marian," said Morgana from the corner. Both maids dropped into curtseys, and Merlin managed to turn his automatic bow into something similar. "There you are! Come along -- I've spoken to the steward about your assignment."

Merlin hurried after Morgana gratefully. "I need to get back and become me again," he whispered to her once they were alone. "Arthur will be expecting me." He'd sent George with Arthur's breakfast, pleading an errand for Gaius, but that would only protect him so long.

"Right. We'll take the back way." Morgana turned left at the next corridor. "Did you find anything?"

"There's some sort of spell around Hope herself. It's... I don't know, sticky in a strange way. I was trying to untangle it when Etheldred caught me; I didn't manage to break it."

Morgana frowned, glancing down at him -- and being shorter than her was extremely strange. "There's something different about you. Did you do something to yourself? Other than, you know..." She gestured at Merlin's general person.

"I don't think so? But to be honest, I didn't really know what I was doing, and I didn't have much time. I feel like it got... stuck to me, somehow." He brushed his hands down his body as though he could clean the magic off of him.

Morgana knocked his arm away. "Don't do that in this form. It has an entirely different look to it when a woman brushes down her chest."

"Right. Sorry."

She sighed as they went down a winding stair. "It's unfortunate. I knew something was off, but I was hoping Etheldred just had a magical artifact, something that could be stolen and gotten rid of."

"The spell seemed to be attached to Hope herself, not to a pendant or anything like that." Crisp spring sunlight greeted them as Morgana pushed open the door. The bustle of the stables mixed with the clang of weapons from where Arthur and his knights were practicing drill. Morgana led them toward the courtyard. "What I couldn't tell was whether she was responsible for it. She looked exhausted, which might be because she was trying to cast a spell beyond her capability, but Gaius says that--"

"Don't stop on my account," said Morgana loudly, and Merlin realized that the sounds of the drill had died away, and several knights were gravitating toward them.

He sighed inwardly and shrank into Morgana's shadow; at least half the knights were enamored with her, and no wonder. To his surprise, their eyes followed him instead, and Sir Bors, who was nearest, sent him a flirtatious smile that was almost a leer.

"Who's this, then?" said the knight. "I'd remember if I'd seen you before, I'm sure."

"This is Marian, a new maidservant," said Morgana. She looked perfectly placid to someone who didn't know her well enough to catch the gleam in her eye. "She just came here from the countryside."

She didn't have to enjoy the situation so much. Merlin couldn't glare at her with the knights watching, so settled for bobbing his head nervously to the knights.

"New in Camelot? You'll have to allow me to show you around the city," said Sir Bors.

"Nonsense, you're old enough to be her father," said a younger knight before Merlin could think of a polite way to decline. He reached a hand toward Merlin.

Bors knocked it away with a scowl. "Mind your manners, or I'll remind you myself."

"I'm always happy to engage in a little friendly discussion," said the other knight, his sword inching out of its sheath.

"What's going on?" Arthur's voice demanded, and he pushed into the knot of men, at which point Merlin realized that he and Morgana had been surrounded. A touch to his back made him shudder and press closer to Morgana, peering around to see who'd done it. "I don't remember calling for a break," Arthur told the assembled knights. "And you'd do well to show some courtesy to the Lady Morgana."

"Doesn't look like it's the Lady Morgana they're looking at," said Gwaine, appearing at Arthur's side. Merlin looked at him with automatic relief, only to see an appraising expression come over the knight's face. He tossed his hair back. "Hello there, lovely. I'm Sir Gwaine. Are you new?"

"And I'm Prince Arthur," said Arthur, giving Gwaine a warning glare. He turned a very warm smile on Merlin. "Don't be put off by these buffoons; the knights of Camelot are extremely chivalrous, I promise you."

Merlin made another awkward curtsey, wide-eyed. Even Lance was staring at him, and Lance never looked that way at anyone except Gwen. During his time as a servant, he'd been on the receiving end of the occasional leer or ill-advised groping, had even put himself in the path of potentially troublesome nobles to protect the serving girls. But never before had he felt like a hare dropped into a dog kennel.

"She isn't here to be gawked at by you lot, regardless of how chivalrous you might be," said Morgana with some asperity. "Really, Arthur -- is this how easily your knights are distracted?"

He scowled at her, then smirked. "Feeling threatened? Don't worry, Morgana, I'm sure at least a few of the men admire you more than..." He trailed off, looking at Merlin again with a gently inquiring expression.

"Marian," said Merlin. His voice came out too high, even for his current form.

"Marian," said Arthur, in an alarmingly dreamy tone. He was echoed by half a dozen other voices.

Morgana rolled her eyes. "Well, we have other things to do, thank you." She shoved Lance's shoulder, making him stumble out of the way, and the other knights took the hint and reluctantly opened a path for her. Merlin followed, nearly treading on her skirts.

"I had no idea," he said fervently when they were far enough away. "I mean, I've seen girls get looks before, of course--"

"That wasn't natural." Morgana was frowning as she led him into the main courtyard. "You're sweet in this form, but without any offense intended, you don't show to nearly the advantage I do."

She'd said it matter-of-factly, and Merlin accepted it as such. "I did think it odd that Lance looked at me like that. Gwaine, of course, but Lance?"

"Not to mention Arthur," muttered Morgana. Even more quietly, she said, "It must be the spell that Lady Hope is tangled up in. She's probably trying to snare Arthur."

Merlin heaved a sigh. "Damnit. Why couldn't she just have used a love potion like usual? I rescue Arthur from those at least once a month." He caught Morgana's sudden interest and flushed. "Er..."

"Oh, you're definitely going to tell me more about that." Morgana paused at the base of the stairs leading to the Court Physician's chambers. The nearest guard started to drift closer, eyes on Merlin, until she glared him away. "Get changed back as quickly as you can," she told Merlin in a low voice. "I need to speak with the steward in case Etheldred is on her way to complain about your service today. It wouldn't do for him not to recognize Marian's name."

"Thank you, Morgana," he said with feeling.

She gave him a sly smile. "Anything for such a sweet young thing."

"Have you met a new maidservant this morning, Merlin?" Arthur asked while he ate his lunch.

Merlin suppressed a groan as he shook out a pair of Arthur's trousers. "No, but I've certainly heard about a new maidservant. It was the talk of the kitchen. Almost made me late with your lunch." He glanced at Arthur, to find the prince watching him carefully.

"You were late, and don't pretend it's anyone's fault but yours." After another moment, Arthur added, "She had lovely eyes."

"Who? The maid?" said Merlin, pretending disinterest. His heart squeezed; it was always difficult hearing Arthur mooning over someone else, even though there inevitably turned out to be some kind of magic at play.

At least whatever had made Marian so irresistible didn't seem to be active now that he was Merlin again. He was as romantically invisible now as he'd always been.

"Yes, Merlin, do keep up. She came by the field as we were drilling. Quite an enchanting little thing."

One of these times Arthur would fall in love without a spell to blame, and Merlin would get to endure the exquisite agony of watching him courting someone for real. And Arthur wasn't such a fool as he used to be, either -- it would probably be someone kind and clever and generous, someone that Merlin couldn't even properly hate. Maybe it was the reminder of this that made Merlin say, "Well, if you're planning to tumble her, you'll have some competition, sire. Half the castle seems to be after her. Although I suppose outranking them gives you some advantage."

Arthur's face closed off. "I'd never use my rank to induce someone into my bed," he said stiffly.

"What? I know that, of course. That wasn't what I--"

"Never mind, Merlin." Arthur waved his hand. "But for the record, I am aware of the weight that a request from me might have for a servant. I'd never ask someone to my bed unless I were sure of their interest."

"All right," said Merlin uncertainly. "I mean, I know. You aren't nearly as much of an arse as you used to be."

"Such glowing praise," said Arthur dryly, turning back to his food. "You know if my father heard you say that, you'd be in the stocks."

Merlin had much better reasons to fear Uther Pendragon than the threat of the stocks. The king had become frail since the illness that had left Arthur ruler in all but name, but Uther still retained the official title and probably enough sway to get someone executed. "Shall I try to find out about this new maidservant for you, then?" he asked, trying to dispel the tension in Arthur's shoulders. "Her favorite color? Whether she likes sweets or cakes best? Her feelings about prattish princes?"

There was an odd twist to Arthur's smile. "Yes, Merlin. Why don't you do that."

Chapter Text

"No has has still seen Lady Hope," Merlin told Arthur that evening as he did up the laces on Arthur's tunic. The much-delayed welcoming feast for Lady Etheldred and her niece was taking place at last. Hopefully it would appease the cooks, who'd had to be ready for it for five days now. Tempers had been wearing thin in the kitchen.

"Everyone will see her in half an hour," said Arthur, as though explaining to a child. "What do you care, anyway?"

"Don't you think it's odd? Coming all this way--"

"And falling ill on the road, yes. It's astonishing. Gossip must be very slow if this is the best you can come up with."

Merlin glared at the prince as he twitched the tunic shoulders to lie flat. Granted, there really wasn't anything very suspicious about Hope's behavior. If Merlin hadn't discovered the sticky strands of magic woven around her -- like a spider web, clinging and unhealthy -- he would have thought Hope merely a frail girl and Etheldred an overprotective harpy. "Your father will be there tonight, did you know?"

That drew Arthur's attention. "Are you certain?"

"Bertrand made a point of telling me." Bertrand was the king's manservant, and one of the few servants in the castle who outranked Merlin. Not that Merlin particularly cared about the hierarchy of servants, but Bertrand definitely did. Now he adopted Bertrand's nasal drawl and said, "The king will be dining in the great hall tonight, so I'll want to see impeccable service from you, Merlin."

Arthur laughed, brightening the room. He'd done far less laughing since taking on the burden of ruling Camelot, and a small, dark part of Merlin wished that Uther had simply died instead of dragging on in this strange limbo. He mostly kept to his rooms, the lingering effects of his illness making him easily tired and confused. But on his better days he sometimes came down for a meal or to walk in the gardens, usually with Bertrand trailing after him. Merlin was always sorry to see him; Uther's old advisers would urge him to action on one or another issue, and then Arthur and Morgana would have extra work to manage the situation.

Fortunately Uther's attention never lasted long before he drifted into his own mind again. It was an open secret in the court that he'd only survived his illness thanks to the intervention of a sorcerer, a cantankerous old man named Dragoon the Great. Rumor had it that was why Arthur, who'd taken over ruling Camelot in fact if not in name, had quietly ended the bloody persecution of sorcery.

Which was good. But meanwhile Arthur wasn't the king, wasn't even officially a regent, and he always looked tired.

Morgana breezed close to Merlin while everyone was assembling for dinner and murmured, "What did Gaius say?"

"That he'll do some research." Enchantments to befuddle the mind were apparently common, but a spell to radiate attractiveness indiscriminately was outside of Gaius' experience. Given the way the knights had been looking at him earlier, Merlin thought that was probably for the best.

Morgana made a discreet face. "Do you have a plan yet? I can always stab her with my table knife."

"If I have to I'll just spill the wine on her," Merlin murmured back, then nearly bumped into Arthur when he turned around.

"Plotting with Morgana?" Arthur asked with a scowl. "You realize that's the most dangerous thing you can do in this castle."

Merlin opened his mouth to reply with something appropriately cheeky, but never got the chance. The room hushed, and Arthur glanced toward the doorway, and then his eyes went slightly glazed. Lady Hope had walked into the hall.

Later Merlin would remember that Lady Etheldred had been there too, had even led her niece in, but in that moment he was aware only of the dreamlike way that Hope floated toward the high table, ethereal in an embroidered gown of soft green. Every eye was on her as Uther, sounding a bit misty, welcomed her to Camelot and bade her be seated.

Merlin had drifted to his position behind Arthur, which was fortunately also behind Hope, and lost himself in contemplation of her -- her pale gold hair, her soft shoulders, the curve of her cheek as she turned to reply to something Arthur was saying to her. Just then a sharp pain in his arm nearly made him drop his wine jug. He turned to see Gwen steadying it with one hand, pinching him with the other, and glaring. "What is the matter with you?" she hissed.

The world came back into focus. Merlin shook his head as though to shake off a fly. "Sorry! I just..." He chanced another look at Hope and had to bite the inside of his cheek when adoration began to creep over him again. "I'm fine."

He wasn't fine, though, and neither was any other man in the hall. Every male pair of eyes strayed to the high table, and as the feast progressed it seemed to get worse, not better. Lady Hope was, if anything, a quiet and stiff dinner companion, difficult to draw into conversation. She didn't overtly criticize Camelot or the Pendragons, but didn't appear particularly impressed by them either. Mostly she seemed tired.

Despite that, Arthur's focus on her never wavered, with Uther paying her nearly as much attention. The male servants had to be discreetly bullied about their tasks; even young Jonas, who Merlin knew wasn't interested in women, could hardly keep his eyes off her. Merlin managed to speak to Gaius after a bit -- no one was paying him any attention anyway -- but when he finally got his mentor to listen to him, Gaius only murmured, "No, didn't find anything," and went back to gazing at Hope.

"Can't you do something?" Morgana hissed with something like panic. She'd sent Gwen to swap places with him, which Gwen had done with a look simultaneously worried and disapproving. She couldn't have failed to notice Lance's besotted expression, and how it was aimed in the wrong direction.

"I've tried!" His thigh would be black and blue tomorrow from the unobtrusive pinches he kept applying to himself whenever he began to drift into admiration. "None of the counter-spells I know are doing a thing!"

"And Arthur certainly isn't listening to reason," she muttered. Every attempt she'd made to divert Arthur with rather pointed conversation had been countered or, increasingly, ignored. "We have to fix this! Look at him; he'll be engaged before the night is out!"

Merlin had been staring at Arthur's lovesick expression all evening. "I tried spilling the wine, but Arthur caught the jug," he said miserably. You'll have to excuse my manservant, he'd said without looking at Merlin. He's an idiot. Arthur called him an idiot multiple times a day, but the tone of that one had hurt.

"Right." Morgana's hand closed meaningfully around her knife.

"Are you mad? Anyone attacking Hope right now will be torn to pieces by all her admirers!"

Morgana deflated. "A distraction, then. If we could lure an animal into the hall, or get a fight to break out..." She paused, then looked up at Merlin in sudden inspiration. "We need to fight fire with fire, Merlin."

Merlin hurried back toward the main hall from Gaius' chambers, tying his suddenly longer hair at his neck as he went. This was a terrible idea. Absolutely insane and terrible and idiotic, and he dearly wished he'd been able to think of another solution, or that Morgana hadn't said, "Do you think Arthur will kiss her right here during the feast?" as he'd been trying to argue.

He nearly went to the wrong servants' entrance before remembering that "Marian" wouldn't be expected to serve at the high table. Cursing inwardly, he changed course. He'd just have to work his way up the hall until he could get close enough to Arthur. At least he'd have a better view of Hope from this side.

The guards at the door swung their attention to Merlin like hounds picking up a new scent, and he slipped past them before they could stop him. He snatched a wine jug out of the hands of a befuddled servant as conversation quieted briefly, the same way it had for Hope, and automatically glanced up at her. The compulsion he'd felt before had completely faded. She no longer looked like a goddess incarnate, but like a very tired girl who'd rather be anywhere else.

Well, that made two of them. "More wine, Sir Lancelot?" he said, topping up the man's cup while Lance stared at him in something like awe. He couldn't resist adding, "I met Gwen today. She seems just lovely."

"Er... yes..." said Lance, blinking slowly.

"That's right, he's taken," said Sir Bors a few seats down, and raised his cup eagerly for a refill. Someone patted Merlin's bottom as he hurried to obey, and he barely restrained his flinch. Bors wrapped an arm around Merlin's waist as he poured the wine. "There's a strange mood in the hall tonight, my sweet," he murmured. "You'd best stay here with me."

"Get your hands off the girl," said Gwaine lazily, then ruined any impression of chivalry by grinning at Merlin. "I could use some more wine as well, lovely."

Working his way along the hall might be harder than he thought. "Excuse me," he said to Bors, then repeated it louder and twisted out of his grasp. That wasn't timid enough for Marian's persona, but timidity seemed unlikely to serve him well at the moment.

"There's something about you, lovely," Gwaine murmured as Merlin filled his cup. Merlin glanced up from the wine jug to see Gwaine watching him with more intelligence than Lance or Bors had managed. He raised a hand to trail his fingertips over Merlin's cheek. "Your eyes..."

"Marian, there you are," came Morgana's voice, and Merlin jerked gratefully upright. "Come with me, please."

Merlin chanced a look at the high table as Morgana led him toward it. Hope was watching him with puzzlement, but Etheldred's eyes were narrowed in speculation. She must know exactly what her niece was up to; she was probably even encouraging it. What would she make of Marian?

"You can serve Arthur tonight, since his usual servant seems to have been called away," said Morgana when they reached him.

It was a highly irregular order, but Arthur, glancing between Hope and "Marian," had no objection. Merlin settled into his usual place, painfully aware of the eyes focused on him. So much for trying not to be noticed.

Chapter Text

By the time the feast began to wind down, Merlin's feet ached from his ill-fitting shoes and he wasn't certain how he was going to get back to his room without being pounced on by half a dozen men. Why didn't his magic book have a spell for invisibility? Now that would be really useful.

"Would you care to dance?" Arthur asked Hope once the sweet was served and the room began to dissolve into more general revelry.

"I'm afraid I'm still rather fatigued from my illness," said Hope. Etheldred frowned at her, but the girl's face was pinched; there was no denying her claim.

"Can I fetch anything for you, my lady?" Merlin ventured to ask. It wasn't really his place to interject, but a new maidservant might not know any better.

"No, thank you," said Hope. There was a speculative edge to her expression as she looked at Merlin.

"Your staff is undertrained," said Etheldred suddenly. It was the first time she'd acknowledged Merlin -- Marian -- and her eyes were narrow as she regarded him. "You, girl -- get off back to the lower tables where you belong."

"There's no need for that," said Arthur, looking stern for the first time since Hope had appeared. "An eagerness to serve isn't a fault."

"Quite so," said Uther, chiming in unexpectedly from the other side of Etheldred. The smile he aimed at Merlin was the warmest he'd ever offered, and that included after Merlin had saved Arthur's life. "Skills can be taught, but a pleasant disposition is harder to cultivate."

Etheldred's jaw tightened. "Well said, Your Majesty." She turned a stiff smile on Merlin. "Perhaps I'll take some of your training on myself while I'm here."

Now that was a good reason to never be Marian again. Merlin cast his eyes down and murmured, "Thank you, my lady."

Hope touched Arthur's arm, thankfully diverting attention away from Merlin. "I apologize for being such poor company this evening, your highness."

"I've never enjoyed an evening more," said Arthur, lifting her hand to his lips. He favored her with a dreamy smile.

"You're too ki-- oh!"

"I'm sorry, my lady!" said Merlin, shrinking back from where he'd bumped Hope's shoulder. "I thought I was supposed to remove the dishes..." He nodded at where another servant was doing so, further down the table.

"Only after we've left, Marian," said Arthur, but without the acid bite he'd have used if Merlin were in his usual form. Instead he smiled nearly the same dreamy smile. Merlin's breath caught at the sight.

"Perhaps I'd better begin your training now," said Etheldred.

Hope cleared her throat. "I think I'll retire for the evening. Aunt Etheldred, if I may...?"

To Merlin's relief, Etheldred accompanied Hope out of the hall. Merlin caught Morgana's eye and they shared a breath of relief.

"Marian, your name was?" said the king suddenly, and Merlin was forcibly reminded of the fact that he was wearing a girl's form, literally enchanting to the opposite sex, and in a hall filled with men who outranked him. Her. Whatever.

"Um..." he said, staring wide-eyed at Uther.

The king chuckled. "Don't be afraid. I haven't seen you before, I'm sure -- are you new?"

"She just started work here today," said Morgana. "You may go, Marian. See if cook wants anything more."

"You might fill my cup before you go," said Uther.

Merlin glanced wide-eyed at Bertrand, but the man just gave him an appreciative smirk. Topping off Uther's cup -- not that it needed it -- brought Merlin within a few inches of the king's side. The lacing on his dress felt suddenly tight under the king's stare.

"You did well tonight, Marian," said Arthur, his voice rather strained. "Given that you've so little experience serving at table."

"Thank you, my lord," said Merlin.

He stepped back, but Uther caught his arm. "Don't hesitate to let me know if you find yourself unhappy with your duties, Marian." The king's eyes were alight with an unusual intensity. "There are plenty of positions available in the castle."

A quiet choking sound came from Arthur's direction. "That's very kind of you, Your Majesty," said Merlin, trying not to look utterly appalled. He drew his arm out of the king's grasp and did his best to walk away calmly instead of fleeing.

It was fortunate that Merlin knew the castle very well by now, because he had to dodge several interested guards and servants on his way back to Gaius' chambers. The spell only seemed to act on them if they could see him, which meant he made his way by flitting from alcoves to side passages to the occasional empty room, avoiding anyone not wearing a skirt.

"Marian!" called a voice behind him as he was finally nearing his goal.

It was Gwen's voice, so Merlin turned, but he did look carefully around to make sure no one was with her. "Yes?"

Gwen hurried down the hallway. "Where did you disappear to? Are you lost? You're nowhere near the kitchens."

"Er... sorry, I..."

"You're probably trying to avoid all your admirers," said Gwen with a little laugh. It wasn't a happy sound. "I've never seen so many heads turn!"

Merlin bit his lip. "I'm sorry, Gwen. I didn't mean..."

Gwen waved the words away, looking embarrassed now. "No, it isn't your fault. It's no surprise, what men are. It's just that I... have a beau, or I thought I did, and I didn't think..." She stopped and rubbed at her forehead. "Never mind. I'll have to talk to him about it, not you."

"He's quite lucky to have you," said Merlin miserably. "Anyone would be. You're so kind."

"Let me help you find the kitchens," said Gwen, taking her arm. "Morgana was worried about you walking alone. You might want to stay with other servants as you're moving about the castle. Many of the maids work together, just as a precaution."

"Er... Thank you, but..." He searched for a way to decline Gwen's offer without making her suspicious, but came up empty.

"Hello, pretty one," said a new voice. Merlin cursed inwardly as a pair of young knight-hopefuls came down the corridor. He knew of them from watching Arthur's training -- Pellinore and Kay, both younger sons of noble houses and (in Merlin's opinion) utterly useless gits. Arthur wasn't particularly impressed with either of them, but keeping their families happy was important enough that he was still working with them.

"Good evening, sir," said Gwen, curtseying gracefully. Merlin hurriedly followed suit. "Excuse us, please, we're wanted in the kitchen."

"I haven't had a chance to talk to you yet," said Pellinore, blocking their path. Both men were watching Merlin, as though Gwen didn't exist. "What do you say to a drink? We can find a spot out behind the stables--"

"Or up on the battlements," broke in Kay. "You probably haven't seen the view from there, have you?"

"Oh, I can't," said Merlin, trying to sound shy. A hysterical urge to laugh gripped him as he imagined how the two would react if they knew who they were really propositioning. Pellinore had once said he was good only for target practice. Merlin edged sideways, Gwen keeping a tight hold on his arm. "I must get back. Sorry..."

Kay moved up beside Pellinore, cutting off the rest of the corridor. "One drink can't hurt. No one will notice."

"Cook will have her hide if she's caught shirking," said Gwen. Her fingers were biting into Merlin's bicep.

"So it's a good thing no one will tell, will they?" said Pellinore, his voice hardening.

Merlin thought frantically. If Gwen hadn't been there, he might have been able to deal with them with magic, discreetly. But Gwen was there, and the longer they stood around, the more likely someone else would show up as well, and he really, really needed to change back and end this madness. Grasping the first excuse that came to mind, he said, "I'm betrothed!"

That stopped everyone. "To whom?" demanded Pellinore.

"To... to..." It couldn't be someone in the castle; the lie would be too easy to detect. Could he make up someone in the town? But who would be sufficiently imposing that it would deter a nobleman from bothering a young maid? "To a sorcerer," said Merlin in desperation.

"Sorcery is illegal," said Kay, but uncertainly. Everyone knew that although magic was technically still illegal, Arthur didn't ferret out the use of magic the way his father had. No one had been executed since Uther's illness, and there were whispers that the ban might be eased once Arthur took the throne. "This man practices magic openly?"

"It's our duty to hunt such people down," said Pellinore, baring his teeth.

"He only uses it to help people!" Another burst of inspiration hit him. There was one sorcerer who he knew couldn't be tracked down by amorous and/or vengeful nobles. "His name is Dragoon," said Merlin. "Dragoon the Great."

Gwen's mouth dropped open. "The old man who healed the king? But Marian... why...?"

"After my village was destroyed, there were so few of us left alive, and we had no crops and all the pigs had been killed," Merlin invented wildly. "Dragoon came upon us and offered to help, but he wanted... well..." He blushed, though not for the reason they were probably thinking. This story was the most ridiculous one he'd ever invented, and that included the woodworms. He plowed on anyway, because the alternative was worse. "He agreed to a betrothal while I earn a dowry, but I can't imagine he'll wait long."

"That's intolerable!" said Pellinore in outrage. "A pretty young maid like you, with a wizened old carcass of a sorcerer!"

"My mother and my cousin will be supported too, though," said Merlin. More voices echoed down the passage, and he took a step back. "Please, I'd... rather not speak of it. But you see why I can't do anything to... to disappoint him..."

Bors came around the corner at that moment, clearly well into his cups. "What's this?" he said, the words carrying down the hallway with drunken delight. "Just the sweet little thing I was hoping to see!"

"Oh no you don't!" snarled Pellinore, and when he and Kay turned to face Bors, Merlin seized his chance. He wrenched his arm out of Gwen's grasp and took off running in the other direction, uncomfortable shoes and all.

Chapter Text

"I hear you're to be congratulated," said Morgana the next day in an undertone. She'd stopped by the practice field where Merlin was mending one of Arthur's tunics while he waited for training to finish. "Such an advantageous match!"

"Morgana." Merlin's face heated, and he bent his head over his stitches. "Why did you send Gwen after me, anyway?"

"I only mentioned that I hoped you weren't accosted; she took it on herself to find you. Why in the world did you choose Dragoon as your paramour? Gwen was quite incensed on your behalf."

"I needed someone that people would think twice about crossing, but who wouldn't be around to expose the lie." Merlin sighed, holding the tunic up to examine his repair. Arthur wouldn't notice if his stitches were crooked, but Merlin would. "Gwen is the kindest person imaginable. Looking after Marian like that, even given how Lance was looking at Marian last night..."

"I imagine Lancelot's life is quite uncomfortable at the moment," said Morgana with a smirk. Then she tilted her head, still watching the knights. "Their practice this morning seems a bit... desultory."

"I know, they keep stopping to talk. Arthur must have them working on something new." Merlin finished off his seam and knotted the thread.

"You could have said that Arthur was the one interested in Marian last night," said Morgana.

Merlin choked in the process of biting off his thread, and glared up at her, pulling a strand out of his teeth. "Or Uther, I suppose?"

"Gods, no," said Morgana, shuddering. "But no one would touch a girl Arthur was interested in, and he wouldn't take advantage." She leaned closer, smirking. "When Uther asked you to fill his cup--"

"Don't!" hissed Merlin. His face was hot enough to smelt iron. "I'll be having nightmares of that for the rest of my life!"

"Arthur!" someone called from the side of the field, and Merlin and Morgana both looked over in surprise. Uther himself was marching toward the knights. Merlin shrank away automatically before remembering that he was currently both male and unremarkable.

"Your Majesty, I can ask the prince to attend you," said Bertrand, hovering at Uther's back.

Uther ignored him. "Arthur!" he called again.

"Sire?" said Morgana, moving to intercept him. "Is everything all right?" Her smile was polite, although someone who knew her well would see the hint of disdain in it. She tolerated Uther's continued existence since learning about her magic, but not happily.

"I need someone to get rid of that damned sorcerer," snapped Uther. "Arthur!"

Oh no. Merlin edged closer, still clutching the tunic, as Arthur jogged over to the king. "Good morning, Father."

"Do you know of this Dragoon fellow?" demanded Uther. "I know I've heard that name before."

It was hard to know how much Uther remembered of his own illness and healing, given how foggy his mind seemed. Merlin tensed, and Morgana's eyes flicked to Bertrand, who was biting his lip, looking guilty.

"I've heard of Dragoon," Arthur said mildly. "A healer of sorts, I believe."

"A sorcerer, Arthur! And he's to marry one of our own maidservants!"

Arthur sighed. "Yes, there's been quite a bit of discussion about that this morning." He shot an irritated glance over his shoulder at the knights, some of whom had abandoned their drills to drift nearer.

"This cannot stand!" Uther looked more alert than Merlin had seen him in some time. "He must be caught! He must be punished!"

"Perhaps we should discuss this inside, Father," said Arthur, reaching for Uther's arm.

But the old man jerked out of his grasp. "I am your king, Arthur," he said, slowly and clearly. "And you will obey me. Find this sorcerer and dispose of him."

Arthur stood very straight. "Of course, Father. I'll see to it at once."

The fight drained out of Uther, leaving him looking smaller. "Very good. The girl shouldn't have to marry some old... It wouldn't be right."

"I quite agree," said Morgana. "It would be a travesty. But Arthur will set it to rights, sire. Will you walk me back inside?"

Arthur watched the two of them walk away, then turned a disgruntled stare on Merlin.

"What?" said Merlin.

"Nothing," said Arthur. He sighed heavily. "Ready my gear. We'll be riding out tomorrow."

There was a great deal of enthusiasm for riding out in pursuit of Dragoon; the council room was packed with eager men of all ages.

"They really are all besotted with her, aren't they?" Gwen asked in a small voice from where she was standing next to Merlin. She and Morgana had slipped in through a servant's entrance, though Merlin didn't think Arthur had noticed yet. Morgana had edged up behind him and was watching the proceedings with poorly-hidden glee. But Gwen had stayed by Merlin, and her eyes were sad.

"Maybe there was something in the wine last night?" said Merlin. When Gwen only looked sadder, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and squeezed her to his side.

"But if you found him at a charcoal-burner's hut before--" Bors began.

"I don't expect he'll be there anymore," Arthur said. "All reports have him moving around Camelot. No, my best guess is that he'll be in one one of these towns." His finger tapped several times at one of the maps laid out on the table. "I'll need three bands of knights--" He was cut off by a flood of volunteers.

"Have you met Marian?" Gwen asked in a low voice. When Merlin looked at her, startled, she added, "You were gone from the hall last night when she arrived. I thought... if you'd met her earlier... maybe you'd have a better understanding of what makes her so irresistible."

"I haven't run into her," said Merlin, taking refuge in a technical truth. "But you must know that this is only a temporary madness."

"I suppose," she said in a small voice.

"Gwen," said Merlin, lowering his voice. "If Marian continues to be a problem for you, I will personally make sure that she never comes back to Camelot."

That earned him a smile at last. "Don't be silly, Merlin. You'd never be unkind to someone for such a foolish reason."

"Seeing you happy is not foolish. She and Dragoon can just as well live elsewhere."

Gwen's smile slipped. "She shouldn't have to marry Dragoon, though. You never saw him, but Merlin, he's ancient. And he's such a cantankerous old man. Marian seems quite sweet."

Truly, Gwen was the kindest person imaginable. "Well... if she's given her word, though..." said Merlin feebly.

"You can't be serious," said Gwen, giving him a sharp look. "What choice would she have had?"

"All right, all right. I'll find her a nice chapman to run off with, and she can be perfectly content somewhere other than Camelot."

Gwen snorted a tiny laugh and leaned her head against his shoulder. "You're going to turn your hand to match-making, now? I can't wait to watch that."

Arthur was eventually forced to remind his knights that some of them would need to stay behind to protect Camelot.

"And thank goodness you will," said Morgana, speaking up. "After all, the ladies and servants will still be here. Needing protection. And company."

In the brief pause, Arthur threw Morgana yet another look of exasperation. Sometimes Merlin thought they could forgo words altogether, and communicate purely with looks and rude gestures.

"At least it made them less sulky about needing to stay here, instead of riding out to find the mean old sorcerer," she said after Arthur had given the knights their orders and sent them away.

"If you ever do something to make my life easier, I'll know you're either ill or enchanted." Arthur gathered together his maps; each band of knights had been assigned a specific route, and had strict orders to bring Dragoon in alive if he was found.

"I do helpful things all the time," said Morgana. She narrowed her eyes at Arthur. "You know that Uther wants this old man executed just so he can make Marian his new bedwarmer."

"Over my dead body," snapped Arthur. He shoved several rolled maps at Merlin. "Hold these, and don't crumple them this time."

Morgana was still watching him with a calculating air. "Don't you think this situation is the least bit surprising? Suddenly you're desperately enamored of not one, but two young ladies, when a month ago--"

"I am not enamored of any young ladies," said Arthur firmly.

"Really? Because it sounded just then as though Marian--"

"That's enough, Morgana!" Arthur sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "It may surprise you to know this," he said in a more level tone, "but taking over the ruling of this kingdom and trying to shuffle out the old, entrenched, council members while also training new knights loyal to me takes rather a lot of work. And doing it while I am not, in fact, the king, is even more delicate. I really can't be worrying about a quick tumble right now, even if I wanted one, which I don't."

Silence pinned them down for several beats. Then Morgana said quietly, "I know that, Arthur. I'm truly not trying to make your life more difficult."

"If that's true, you're the only one." Arthur picked up the last two maps and shoved them at Merlin, who promptly fumbled them. "Come along, Merlin," said Arthur, walking away, his back stiff with repressed annoyance.

Morgana stooped to pick up the fallen maps and help Merlin arrange his armful. "At least this will get him out of the citadel and away from Lady Hope," she murmured.

"I know. Maybe while we're gone--"

"Merlin!" snapped Arthur from the door.

"Go on," said Morgana, and Merlin went. Experience had taught him that whatever ideas he might have for dealing with someone like Hope, Morgana would have better ones.

They walked in silence most of the way back to Arthur's rooms. "You and Morgana have been good friends lately," Arthur said as they neared the door.

"Um... I suppose?" Merlin had tried not to let it show, out of general paranoia, but it was difficult not to be good friends with the other person harboring the same deadly secret. "I think she does try to help you with things, sometimes. Like Lord Rufus, on the council -- she tried to talk him round last time he brought up raising taxes."

"Unsuccessfully," said Arthur, opening his chamber door. Then he sighed. "You're right, of course." He was quiet for a few moments as Merlin deposited the maps and closed the door behind him. "She has a strong sense of honor," he said abruptly, as though determined to be fair. "And she's clever, there's no doubt of that. She can be kind, too. Not to me, of course, but to those she cares about."

"Er... yes?" When nothing more was forthcoming, Merlin ventured, "I think she does care about you, in her way."

Arthur refused to meet his eyes. "I suppose. Well, aren't you going to help me with my armor? And I could stand a bath, since I'm likely to be sleeping on the ground for the next few nights. Have you packed for the journey yet?"

Merlin rolled his own eyes and started on the buckles. There was the prat he knew.

Chapter Text

Dinner that night was awkward, but at least blessedly shorter than the feast had been. "I thought a smaller, more intimate meal might be more restful for you, Lady Hope," Morgana told the girl, leading her and Lady Etheldred into the small dining chamber used for private family meals.

"That's a very kind thought," said Etheldred, and her satisfied smile lasted right up until she realized that Morgana had maneuvered Hope into sitting safely buffered between the two women, with Arthur on the other side of the table. Uther had fallen asleep early that evening after the exertion of attending a feast and imposing his will on his son, so only Arthur and the three women were at table.

Merlin held the wine jug in his left hand tonight, so he could pinch himself on the opposite thigh as before. Even so, he fell into a daze several times, and Gwen had to come round the table on some pretense and elbow him. Had it gotten stronger since last night? Perhaps Etheldred was still working on the charm.

"I hope I wasn't too harsh with your serving girl last night," Etheldred said as the meal drew to a close. "Marian, wasn't it? I tried to find her today to apologize, but no one seemed to know where she was."

"Oh, I wouldn't worry," said Arthur in a dreamy tone. He didn't turn away from Hope. The best part of these seating arrangements from Merlin's perspective was that he couldn't see the besotted expression on Arthur's face. "Merlin--"

"I think cook sent her out to pick berries," said Merlin, to forestall whatever order Arthur might have been about to give. "She was a bit overwhelmed last night."

"Unsurprising," said Morgana. "I believe she's from a very small village."

"Well, I'd like to meet her again," said Etheldred. "I don't make a habit of treating servants so poorly."

Gwen sent Merlin an incredulous look over Morgana's head as her mistress said, "I'll certainly speak to the steward about it."

Etheldred was no match for Morgana, and after dinner she and Hope were solicitously but firmly sent back to their chambers to rest. "We'll spend more time together tomorrow," Morgana told them both with her sweetest smile. "Many of the knights are headed out to find a sorcerer, you know, so the citadel will be much quieter."

Arthur started to rise from his chair, drawing breath to speak. "Allow me, sire," said Merlin, and bumped Arthur's shoulder hard as he came forward to refill his cup. He scooped up a leftover piece of bread with his other hand and, hiding the motion behind his body, shoved the crust into Arthur's mouth.

"What is wrong with you?" Arthur demanded around the bread, pushing Merlin away. Fortunately the door had just closed behind their guests.

"Well done, Merlin," said Morgana, coming back to the table. "You were about to volunteer to spend tomorrow with Hope, weren't you?" she asked Arthur as he tossed the bread onto his plate. "What would your father think of you mooning over a penniless girl when you're supposed to be searching out a sorcerer?"

"Since when do you want me to be obedient to the king?" Arthur shot back, but his brow was furrowed and he looked around the room as though seeing it for the first time. Merlin knew the feeling; with Hope gone he could breathe properly again. "And don't you dare send Marian to Etheldred. The woman's unbearable."

Morgana shot Merlin a look that managed to be both worried and unimpressed. "Gwen, would you tell the kitchens to have provisions ready for Arthur first thing in the morning, so they can get an early start?"

Lance fell in beside Merlin the next morning as soon as they'd left the lower town behind. "Can we talk?" he asked.

"Of course," said Merlin. They were riding at an easy pace; Dragoon's cottage was less than a day's journey. And for once he didn't have to worry about changing himself into an old man once they got there.

"Er..." Lance looked at Arthur, who glanced over in time to see it.

"Don't hold back on my account, Lancelot," said Arthur. "Merlin has no secrets from me."

Merlin scowled at him. "Oi! I might!"

"It's about Gwen, is all," said Lance awkwardly.

"Gods above, man, please don't tell me you're looking to get advice on women from Merlin."

"Oi!"

"You need to know how to make it up to her, don't you?" asked Gwaine from a little further back. He had very sharp hearing when it suited him. "Since you've been mooning after another pretty maid."

"You were doing some mooning yourself, as I saw," said Leon.

"Ah, but I'm unattached and allowed to chase after anyone I like." Gwaine threw a flirtatious grin at Merlin. "Speaking of which, Merlin my love--"

"No," said Merlin without heat. Gwaine only ever flirted with him around Arthur, purely because it annoyed the prince. "Come on, Lance, let's drop back a bit."

"If you get lost I'm not coming back for you," said Arthur, spurring his horse on.

"I don't think what I felt was natural," Lance said quietly when they'd left enough space between them and the rest of the knights. "I've never looked at another woman that way, not since I met Gwen. And the way I felt... Gwaine, do you mind?"

Gwaine had reined back to fall in with them. "You might need someone with a bit more experience than Merlin, here," he said loudly, then dropped his voice and added, "Anyway, we're talking about the enchantment on young Marian, aren't we?"

"I don't know what you mean," said Lance stiffly.

"The same enchantment as is on Lady Hope, unless I miss my guess," said Gwaine. "I'm by no means immune to a pretty face, but neither am I quite so easily swayed." He sent Merlin his most charming smile. "So Merlin: what exactly have you been playing at?"

"What?" Merlin stared at him.

Gwaine grinned. "Has anyone ever told you that Marian has your eyes?"

Merlin tensed so abruptly that his horse whickered and tossed her head. Lance looked between them in confusion. "Merlin? What does... Gwaine, you don't mean..."

"Calm down, mate." Gwaine raised a hand in a placating gesture. "I don't come from Camelot, you know. I'm not afraid of a little magic, especially not after seeing you protect Arthur with it so often. I reckon you have your reasons for whatever you've done." When Merlin still said nothing, he dropped his voice lower and said, "Merlin. You do know I'm on your side, don't you?"

Merlin managed a shaky nod. They rode for a few moments without speaking, surrounded by the creak of harness and the dull thud of hoofbeats. The road was just barely wide enough for them all to ride abreast, and Merlin took several deep breaths and reminded himself that the men on either side of him were friends, not threats. At last he said, "I was trying to work out what was wrong with Hope. Etheldred wouldn't let any male servants into their chambers, and I... I was suspicious. I had to be a woman to go in, and I only intended to poke around a bit. But then whatever spell is on Hope, I sort of got it... stuck to me."

"Ah, that makes sense," said Gwaine cheerfully, as though getting caught up in unknown spellwork was bound to happen occasionally.

"So it is a spell," said Lance in relief. "But wait... that means... you're... Marian?"

"Er..."

"You can tell by the eyes," said Gwaine helpfully.

"You're Marian?" said Lance again, this time with more horror.

"It was an accident!" Merlin hissed. This didn't seem to reassure Lance at all. "Well, not changing into a maidservant -- that was intentional -- but I was trying not to be noticed!"

"You missed the mark on that one, mate," said Gwaine. He wasn't bothering to restrain his grin anymore.

"If I hadn't interfered, Arthur might already be betrothed to Hope!"

Gwaine ignored that. "You know Princess would be happy to have you in his bed just as you are," he said. "You don't need to make yourself..." He curved his free hand suggestively down the line of his torso.

"Shut up, Gwaine," said Merlin, face hot.

"Didn't you consider how dangerous it would be, wandering around as a maid?" Lance demanded. "And why didn't you tell me?"

"I thought it would be quick and easy and no one would notice!"

Gwaine made a strangled sound, as though he were trying to restrain his laughter. Not very hard, though.

"But why did you say you were betrothed?" asked Lance, still looking rather wounded.

So Merlin had to explain about Pellinore and Kay and the need to put himself off-limits to amorous noblemen, and by the end of it even Lance looked torn between being appalled and wanting to laugh.

Gwaine was snickering into his horse's mane. "Oh, this is too good," he gasped. "I never thought I'd have to defend your honor as a maiden, Merlin."

"Piss off."

"I assume you thought Dragoon could fend for himself, which is why you chose to name him as your betrothed," said Lance, struggling to suppress his smile.

"Can you imagine his face?" gasped Gwaine, barely managing to keep his voice down. "When they find him and tell him he's betrothed to a half-grown maiden in Camelot?" He wiped his eyes. "Oh, I hope Arthur's wrong, and he's at this cottage of his. I want to be the one to tell him."

Lance's lips twitched. "He might be disappointed when he discovers there's no maiden waiting for him."

Merlin bit his lip, staring down the road between his horse's ears. Then he sighed. Neither Lancelot nor Gwaine had been around during the time that Dragoon had made his appearance in Camelot, but given how much they already knew, it was probably better just to come clean. They might be able to help him if "Dragoon" needed to show up after all. "Right," he said, bracing himself. "About Dragoon..."

They reached the charcoal-burner's hut in the middle of the afternoon. Merlin busied himself tending the horses while Arthur and Leon went in to look around. "It's empty," said Arthur when they came out. "And it doesn't look like anyone's been here for some time."

"Pity," said Gwaine, grinning. "I was looking forward to meeting him."

Arthur gave him a sour look. They'd had to pause on the road when Gwaine had laughed so hard he'd actually fallen off his horse. The prince had been equal parts bemused and irritated, especially when none of them would explain what was so funny. "We might as well camp here tonight," he said now.

"You don't want to search the area?" asked Leon. "There are hours of light left."

"Hardly any point," said Gwaine. "He's an old man, right? So if he hasn't been in the hut, he's probably long gone."

"For once Gwaine is right," said Arthur. "I have no intention of wandering around looking for an old man who's unlikely to be here."

"Now, if we headed west just a bit," Gwaine went on, "there's a very decent tavern--"

"And that's why we'll camp here for the night," said Arthur dryly.

"Maybe we should stay for a couple of days," Leon suggested. When Arthur looked at him in surprise, the knight shrugged, flushing slightly. "You've had a great deal on your shoulders lately."

Arthur smiled. "Thank you, Leon. But I can't be gone from the city for very long, not with things as they are. Someone will probably try to usurp me." He rubbed his face with both hands, a weary gesture that made Merlin want to sit down with Arthur's head in his lap and run his fingers through Arthur's hair until the tension melted out of his muscles.

He swallowed the idea down. The very kindest thing Arthur might do if he knew Merlin was thinking such things would be to slap him upside his head and call him a girl's petticoat.

Two hours later, just as Arthur looked really, truly relaxed for the first time since his father's illness, Lady Etheldred rode out of the woods. Behind her, clinging wearily to her horse, was Lady Hope.

Chapter Text

Merlin had a split second of clear thinking before the force of Hope's spell hit him. It was like being drowned in warm honey, sweet and golden and inescapable. Hope was so lovely, even hunched forward over her saddle; tendrils of pale hair danced around her face, gleaming in the late afternoon sunlight, and the curve of her hip beneath her gown was enough to send any man to his knees.

Pain pricked Merlin's palm, and he looked down to see his fingernails digging into his own flesh. Why was he...? Oh yes, he had to keep a clear head, didn't he? He bit his lip, trying to push aside the glow of adoration long enough to remember why. There was a spell...

There was a spell. Merlin dug his nails in harder and chanced looking up.

"...thought she was well enough for a ride, but I'm afraid she overestimated her strength, poor dear," Etheldred was saying. As though they were anywhere close enough to Camelot for riding here to be considered a casual jaunt.

Arthur was already lifting Hope down from her horse -- or rather, catching her as she tumbled, none too gracefully, into his arms. She wasn't dressed properly for riding, and even from here Merlin could see a sheen of sweat on her forehead. Her lovely forehead, smooth and...

"Focus!" he whispered to himself, pinching at his thigh. The bruises from last night protested, and the resulting throb helped a bit.

"There's a bed in the hut," said Arthur. "It's of poor quality, but better than nothing. With your leave...?"

"That would be most kind, Prince Arthur," said Etheldred.

"Herbs!" Merlin burst out. "I have some herbs from Gaius. I'll just..." He picked up the saddlebag with his physician's supplies, and hurried after Arthur.

Etheldred didn't follow them into the hut. Not quite such a diligent chaperone after all, apparently -- at least when it was the prince himself with her niece.

"I can handle this, Merlin," said Arthur, laying Hope down on the pitiful excuse for a bed.

"Yes, sire," said Merlin. Years of experience had taught him when to argue and when it was better to appear to acquiesce, and then just disobey. "I'll just give you the strengthening tincture Gaius sent. It might help her recover more quickly."

"Merlin..." Arthur started, warning in his voice.

"My lord? Does Lady Hope need some water?" Lance took two steps into the hut.

Arthur scrambled up and snatched the waterskin he held out. "Thank you, Sir Lancelot," he said through gritted teeth. "I think it would be best to give Lady Hope some quiet."

Merlin chanced a sidelong glance, biting the inside of his cheek hard, to see that Hope and Arthur were both looking toward Lancelot. He rested his hand on her wrist and whispered the strongest dispelling charm he'd learned.

"We could lend our cloaks, if it would make the lady more comfortable," said Lance.

"I think quiet and calm are all she needs," said Arthur.

It hadn't worked. Merlin glanced up at where Arthur was all but shoving Lance back out the door, only to discover Hope staring at him, eyes wide. Cold certainty prickled over his skin: she'd heard or felt or seen his spell. The sudden flash of terror rooted him to the spot.

"You too, Merlin," said Arthur, coming back to kneel at Hope's side.

"But sire..." Golden fog was seeping into Merlin's mind.

"Out! Or I'll drag you out by your heels and--"

Hope turned suddenly to Arthur. "Swefe," she said, her eyes flashing gold, and Arthur's threat ceased abruptly. He sat back heavily against the wall behind him, his eyes sliding closed.

Merlin reached out toward him instinctively, but couldn't quite summon up a response. He had to help Arthur, didn't he? But Arthur was only asleep, not hurt -- his chest rose and fell easily. And Hope was there, soft and warm...

"Merlin," said Hope urgently. "Can you do it?"

"Hope," he murmured back. She was lovely even in this dim light. "Do what?"

"Merlin!" she said again, sharper, and slapped him.

"Ow!" He raised a hand to his face as the pain brought a slice of clarity. Digging one hand into his abused thigh muscles, he raised the other toward her, ready to attack. "You enchanted Arthur!"

"You were trying to remove the spell, weren't you?" she said. There was desperation in her voice. "Can you do it?"

"Why don't you do it?" he hissed. "It's your spell!"

"It's Aunt Etheldred's spell! She's much stronger than I am, and I can't get it off... I will slap you again!" she warned as Merlin's mind started to mist over.

"Right," he muttered, pinching himself again. "Sorry, I can't think... The dispelling charm didn't work last time, and I don't know what..."

"Please!" Hope grasped his jacket with both hands. "I feel like I'm being eaten from the inside!"

He wanted to help her. But even with pain radiating up from his leg, the fog of the enchantment was too much. It was so tempting to slide down into the oblivion of her eyes... What man could resist such beauty?

No man could. But a woman might. With a last, supreme effort, Merlin muttered a completely different spell.

The familiar wrenching feeling of his body changing was accompanied this time by a profound relief as the cloying haze of Hope's enchantment dropped away. Merlin blinked to clear his vision, his eyes now quite a bit lower than they had been, and fixed Hope with a stern look. "Your spell doesn't work on me anymore, so don't try anything."

She only gaped at him. "You... you're..."

"I know." He lay his hand on her wrist again, then had to shake back his sleeve. His clothes were far too loose for him, all except for the trousers which were tighter around his hips than he liked. A quick glance at Arthur reassured him that he was still asleep. Far less distracted now, Merlin tried the dispelling charm again.

Nothing.

"You just changed," Hope said in awe. "Without a ritual or preparation or anything."

"I know," said Merlin again, this time with more impatience. "What enchantment am I dealing with here?"

"I don't know. Aunt Etheldred puts her hands on my chest and my belly, and says a spell--"

"Which spell?"

"I don't know! It always makes me dizzy. I think part of it is seenetta hight, maybe?"

Cnytte thaet hyht might make sense. Binding a man's desire... Merlin shuffled closer to her, losing a too-loose boot in the process, and placed his hands hesitantly as she'd described. This was exactly the kind of situation that made him wish he had more time to study. Maybe then he wouldn't always be fumbling his way through with sheer power and luck.

"Right, hold still," he told Hope, and began to speak.

"That was amazing," Hope told him.

Merlin sat back on his heels, rubbing sweat from his forehead. The enchantment had been a tangled, messy thing, layers of spells built up like cobwebs from a thousand years of spiders. He'd ended up using little subtlety and mostly ripping it away. "How do you feel?"

"Better." Hope took a deep breath. "Like I can breathe again." She smiled at him, but then grew somber. "Aunt Etheldred will just try again, though. She doesn't have enough income to live as she wants to; she says that my marriage is the only coin we have to spend, and I'm not appealing enough on my own to make a good match."

"Charming," muttered Merlin. "Don't worry, I'm sure Arthur can help out somehow." He glanced at the sleeping prince.

Who was not asleep. Arthur hadn't moved, but his eyes were open, fixed on Merlin with an unreadable expression.

Cold fear washed down Merlin's spine. He opened his mouth, automatically reaching for a lie, then just sat there. What could he say? He was clearly Marian wearing Merlin's clothes, and sitting beside Hope, who even the most unobservant man must be aware no longer seemed like the goddess she'd been before.

Beside him, Hope had tensed as well. "Are you all right, sire?" she asked tentatively.

"Quite," said Arthur, sitting up. "And you, Lady Hope?"

Her eyes darted between Arthur and Merlin. "I'm feeling much better, thank you."

"Arthur..." Merlin started, then didn't know how to finish. This is all a dream? No, even Arthur wasn't that clueless. I'm sorry for changing into a woman, I won't do it again? That sort of begged the important question, though. I should have realized that Hope's sleeping spell wouldn't be as strong as mine? Definitely the most truthful, but not at all helpful.

When Merlin said nothing more, Arthur sighed. "I never thought I'd see you unable to come up with an explanation, Merlin," he said. "Granted, your explanations are rubbish." He looked Merlin over. "Change back. It's eerie seeing you like that."

"It's... what?" said Merlin cleverly. Surely Arthur hadn't just implied...

"It's worse than when you're Dragoon," said Arthur, getting to his feet.

"What?!"

"Honestly, Merlin," Arthur began, but a knock sounded on the door.

Etheldred cracked it open, peering in. "My lord? Is Hope all right?" Merlin saw the exact moment that her eyes adjusted to the dim light, and she registered the three of them -- Hope and Merlin/Marian still on the floor, Arthur standing beside them. And most damning of all, the clear look he leveled at her, free from any trace of infatuation.

"Lady Etheldred," he said, in the tone that always promised trouble when it was aimed at Merlin. "Perhaps you'd care to explain--"

But Etheldred apparently wouldn't care to explain, since she darted back out of the hut, shoving the the door closed behind her. There was a male voice raised in question, a yell, and a crash as of chain mail hitting the ground, all in quick succession.

Arthur swore and ran for the door. Merlin scrambled up and dashed after him, losing his remaining boot and having to clutch his trouser legs to keep from tripping on them.

He burst through the door just in time to see Leon hauling Etheldred down from her horse. Gwaine was running toward them as Lance struggled up from the ground, clutching his side. Etheldred twisted in Leon's grasp, and with a word and a flash of her eyes, flung him away. Merlin caught him with a gesture before he could fall among the other horses, and waved him to a safer landing.

"Stay back!" shrieked Etheldred, holding her hands up, ready for spellcasting. Her gray hair had escaped its prim knot and floated, wild and wispy, around her face. "No one come near me!"

"Don't hurt them, Aunt Etheldred!" yelled Hope from just behind Merlin.

"Gods above, woman, what do you think will happen to you if you endanger my knights?" snapped Arthur.

"It's your own lives forfeit if you don't let me leave!" she shouted. She seemed to be trying for a menacing air, but it just came out panicked.

"If we can't find an intelligent solution to this, you're the one who'll end up dead," said Arthur. "The laws of Camelot won't offer you any leniency, even if I myself would." When she stared at him in patent disbelief, he swept a hand toward Merlin and said, with audible sarcasm, "Surely such an astute woman as yourself has noticed that I don't share my father's intolerance for all magic."

Merlin flushed as attention shifted to him. After a pause, Gwaine wolf-whistled. Merlin made a rude gesture at him.

Etheldred wavered, then hissed, "Lies!" She scrambled for the horse again and hauled herself up onto its bare back with surprising strength. Arthur was just inches short of catching her skirts when she kicked her mare into a sudden gallop, and had to duck back to avoid the horse's hindquarters.

Gwaine was already vaulting onto his own horse's back. "I can catch her--"

"No!" said Arthur. He sheathed his sword. "Let her go. I don't really know what to do with her anyway, at least that wouldn't end with her executed in the town square."

"But what about..." Gwaine looked at Merlin.

Arthur turned to Merlin as well. "Did I or did I not tell you to change back?" he demanded. He shot quick glances at each of the knights.

"Oh, excuse me for worrying about what Etheldred might do to you--"

"We're knights of Camelot, Merlin, that does count for something--"

"--when I heard someone hit the ground--"

"--and how you've managed to stay alive this long, I've no idea--"

"She almost threw Leon under the horses!" Merlin's voice rose to a bellow to drown Arthur out. Granted his bellow was less impressive right now, since his voice was so high-pitched. "He could've been stomped to death! And how long have you known?"

"Long enough!" Arthur snapped, with another wary glance around at his knights. His voice became hard as he looked at each of them in turn. "And in case it wasn't clear, I fully intend to keep an eye on Merlin myself. I want your word that you'll keep his magic secret."

"Already have been," said Gwaine easily. At Arthur's look, he shrugged. "Remember that little man on the bridge? Courage, Strength and Magic? Honestly, it wasn't hard to work out."

Lance coughed. "Er, I discovered Merlin's magic when he enchanted my lance so I could defeat the griffin."

They all looked at Leon. "I saw him help to reveal the troll," said Leon sheepishly. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you, my lord, but it was a great service to Camelot, and I didn't want... that is, I thought of all people..."

"It's Merlin, after all," said Gwaine with another shrug.

"Troll?" said Lance, shooting a puzzled look at Merlin.

"Oh, haven't you heard that story?" Gwaine looked positively gleeful. "You need to spend more time in the tavern, my friend."

Arthur was pinching the bridge of his nose as though he had a headache. "Who else knows?" he demanded. "Honestly, Merlin, how have you survived this long?"

"Well if your father hadn't angered the entire magical community, maybe there wouldn't be sorcerers trying to kill you every other day!"

"If you didn't use your magic in front of literally everyone--"

"Do you have any idea how hard it is to keep you alive, you unbelievable arse?"

"Do you have any idea how hard it is to cover for your stupidity? If you were even the least bit subtle--"

"It's hard to be subtle when I'm trying to keep my friends alive!" Merlin turned and stalked back into the hut, the dignity of which was somewhat ruined when he had to hitch up his trouser legs again.

Chapter Text

"Merlin, my love, I hope you know I'd be happy to shag you regardless of your sex," said Gwaine that evening as they sat around the campfire.

"I'll keep that in mind," said Merlin through gritted teeth, ladling out some soup.

"Er, Gwaine..." said Lance, glancing at where Hope was sitting on a fallen log.

"Oh, don't mind me." She accepted the bowl of soup and a chunk of bread. "I used to hide in the stables when I was young, and heard far more scandalous things. I didn't realize that you and Merlin were..." She gestured between the two of them with her bread.

"They aren't," said Lance quickly.

"Not for lack of trying on my part," added Gwaine.

"So you'd be happy to shag Merlin in any form?" Leon asked Gwaine innocently. Arthur, who was receiving his own soup, nearly fumbled the bowl.

Gwaine just grinned. "Well, I suspect Dragoon isn't really my type."

"Could we please find something more appropriate to discuss before Lady Hope than who's willing to shag my manservant?" said Arthur sharply.

"Sure," said Gwaine. Unlike Lance, who'd fallen instantly into the role of noble protector to the poor, misused young lady, Gwaine was still eyeing Hope with some suspicion. There was a sharp edge to his smile as he said, "So how did you learn magic, Lady Hope?"

She looked taken aback for just a moment, then lifted her chin. "Aunt Etheldred taught me. I thought at first it was because she wanted us to work together to improve our land, but now I think she just wanted to make sure I couldn't expose her, because I'd be executed as well." Sadness crept into her eyes as she spoke.

"You won't be executed," said Arthur at once. "As long as you do no harm with it."

"Er... I'm sorry for putting you to sleep, earlier," she said with a cautious glance.

"Think nothing of it."

"It's still best to keep it secret, for now," said Leon gently.

"So you're just... all right with magic?" demanded Merlin. With everyone served, he'd finally gotten food for himself but couldn't bring himself to eat. It was too surreal to be sitting around a campfire with Arthur and Leon talking about magic.

"Well, I have seen you do a lot of good with it," said Leon, and Merlin buried his head in his hands.

"You really aren't subtle enough, Merlin," said Arthur.

Lance patted Merlin's shoulder. "This is good," he said firmly. "Right? You've always wanted your friends to know."

"I know, it's just..." There was no way to describe the tumult of emotions going through him. He waved one hand helplessly. "...strange."

Leon cleared his throat. "I am curious why you felt it necessary to say that Marian was betrothed to Dragoon."

"Yes, Merlin, tell us all about that," said Gwaine, his eyes dancing.

"I hate you," Merlin told him.

"Oh, now I definitely need to hear this," said Arthur, grinning. "Go on."

There was no way out. But strangely, halfway through a stripped-down explanation of his encounter with noblemen who didn't like to hear the word no, Arthur's amusement gave way to disbelief, then fury. "Those knaves!" he snapped. "How dare they?"

"You felt the effect of the spell," said Merlin. "They weren't exactly in their right minds."

"Don't excuse them! I'll have their heads!"

"Arthur, calm down," said Gwaine, holding his hands up in a placating gesture.

"Calm down? You flirt with Merlin constantly and you have no problem with a couple of noblemen misusing their power to pressure an innocent servant--"

"Oh, I'd have taken their heads off too," said Gwaine. "Except that Merlin wouldn't have needed help from either of us, would he?" When Arthur still looked furious, he added, "Some noblemen are more noble than others. No surprise there."

"There will be a very unpleasant surprise for them if I ever catch them in such behavior again," snarled Arthur.

Merlin picked up his soup. The sight of Arthur outraged on his behalf was strangely soothing.

Hope was clearly stronger with the enchantment removed, but still tired easily. They rested several times during the day and arrived back in Camelot that evening, just as sunlight was withdrawing from even the rooftops. Arthur was lifting Hope down from the saddle when Morgana swirled down the steps. "Lady Hope," she said with all the deadly formality at her disposal. "I was concerned by your sudden departure yesterday. I hope all is well?"

"Lady Hope is weary from the long ride today," said Arthur, who had experience at recognizing Morgana on a warpath.

Merlin managed to catch Morgana's eye and give a small nod and smile. Her shoulders relaxed just a little, and her smile became fractionally less frosty. "Allow me to escort you to your rooms," she told Lady Hope. It was not a suggestion.

"So do you actually need to haul water up from downstairs for my bath?" asked Arthur once they were safe in his chambers. "Because you'll kick up a fuss if I make you do it this late, but I'd love a hot bath."

Merlin paused in building up the fire to eye his prince narrowly. "Sorry, are you actually asking me to do magic for you? For chores?"

"You use magic for your chores all the time. Don't pretend otherwise."

"I do not! I do at least half of those stupid chores by hand, you prat, because otherwise--"

"If you say otherwise someone would notice I'll be forced to point out the number of people who have noticed, which is not inconsiderable--" He broke off as his door was flung open. "What now, Morgana? Don't tell me that you've forgotten how to knock as well?"

"Arthur Pendragon." Morgana slammed the door closed behind her. "Hope -- who is no longer irresistible to every man who sees her -- has informed me that Marian was the one who broke her enchantment." It was a credit to Morgana's presence of mind that her eyes didn't so much as flick toward Merlin.

Arthur sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose again. He'd been doing a lot of that lately. "Gods, she didn't last long under your interrogation, did she?"

"Neither will you, so don't bother deflecting." Morgana stepped further into the room, her eyes fixed intently on Arthur. The expression in them wasn't quite a glare, but it had the force of one. "She claimed that you chose not to pursue the sorceress when she fled."

"I didn't exactly have good options, did I?" he snapped. "I could drag her back to Camelot where the best she could hope for was a quick death, or I could let her go for now and escort Hope back to her home to deal with her there."

After a pause, Morgana said, "We aren't talking about Marian."

"No. Etheldred was the sorceress who laid the enchantment on Hope." Arthur beckoned to Merlin, who hastened to help him out of his chain mail. "Now, it's late. I'd rather that Father didn't hear any word of magic--"

"I'd never tell him anything, you know that--"

"--and if I could have a little dinner and some peace and quiet, I'd consider my evening much improved."

Morgana considered him for a long moment. Then a knowing smile grew on her lips. "You still haven't told me what happened to Marian."

"Surely it can wait until tomorrow," said Arthur, sitting down and extending a booted foot to Merlin.

"Fair enough." Her smile widened. "We'll have lunch together tomorrow." As with Hope, it wasn't a suggestion.

"Gladly, if it means I can be left in peace now."

When she'd gone and Arthur was free of his boots and gambeson, he stretched. Merlin averted his eyes from the long, muscular lines of his body by habit, and went to haul the heavy tub out of its corner. "Still want a bath?"

"So much," groaned Arthur. He rolled his neck. "What am I going to tell that harpy about Marian? She's far too nosy to let it drop."

Merlin glanced at him while he maneuvered the tub across the floor. "You don't want to tell her the truth?" he asked, probing carefully.

"This is why it's astonishing that you're still alive," said Arthur as he disappeared behind the changing screen. "I trust Leon and Lancelot and even Gwaine -- he's a fool sometimes, but he cares about you. But that doesn't mean I want any more people to know than can be helped."

Merlin took a deep breath, reminded himself that Arthur knew about his magic and was all right with this, and then murmured a spell. Warm water began to pour into the tub. "Morgana is sympathetic to magic-users, you know that."

"Yes, but the more people who know, the more dangerous it will be for you. A prudent man," and Arthur put special emphasis on the words, "wouldn't tell any more people than necessary."

Merlin bit down his smile. He had a strong suspicion that Morgana intended to discuss this very topic with Arthur at lunch the next day, and if he spoiled her surprise he might not live to see dinner. So he said, "Tell her that Marian ran off to be with Dragoon and insisted she'd be very happy with him." He savored the snort of laughter that came from behind the screen.

This is strange," Merlin said a bit later, once Arthur was relaxing in his bath.

"What, the fact that you were silent for almost five minutes? I agree."

"No, you clotpole. Just... this."

Arthur turned his head enough to see the clothes organizing themselves into the wardrobe. "Gods above, Merlin. Please tell me you locked the door."

Metal scraped as the lock shot home. "I definitely locked the door," said Merlin.

Arthur leaned his head back against the tub in weary resignation. "How am I going to keep you alive?"

"Oi! I'm the one who's been keeping you alive for the better part of two years!" said Merlin as he came over and picked up the jug.

"Which reminds me," Arthur began, sitting forward. Merlin poured warm water over his head to forestall him, but the prince just continued on once the stream ended. "You're not allowed to go off fighting magical beasts and dangerous sorcerers alone anymore."

"Who else is going to do it?" Merlin demanded.

"You will tell me or one of the knights every time there's a magical threat that needs attention," said Arthur. He lathered his hands with soap and began to scrub at his hair. "And you'll do so at the first sign of a problem, not when you're already nearly dead."

"Do you have any idea how often something tries to kill you?" Merlin pulled the stool behind Arthur and batted his hands away from his head, then began massaging the soap in far more gently.

"I have knights and guards to help keep me safe, whereas you--"

"They're useless against magic--"

"And you're useless against common sense," snapped Arthur. "I mean it, Merlin." He was quiet for a moment, then said, "You don't have to do this alone."

Merlin's eyes grew wet. Thank the gods he was safely out of sight behind Arthur.

"Merlin? Did you hear me?"

"Yes." He managed to keep the word steady, if a bit husky.

"And you promise to alert me..." Arthur trailed off leadingly.

"Right, fine," said Merlin, blinking to clear his eyes. "I'll do my best."

Arthur sighed. "Gods, you're stubborn. And I can wash my own hair, you know."

"I've been thinking about something else you said," said Merlin, ignoring that. He couldn't really be said to be washing Arthur anymore; he stroked Arthur's scalp gently but not efficiently. "Remember what you said about tumbling Marian?"

"I never said anything about tumbling Marian," said Arthur sharply. Merlin got up to refill the jug. "You were the one going on about me pursuing her, when all I was trying to do--"

"Tip forward," said Merlin.

"--was to give you a chance to tell me about your bloody magic and the frankly ludicrous..." Arthur was forced to pause as Merlin poured clean water over his head, rinsing the soap away. "--situation you'd managed to land yourself in," he finished, pushing his wet hair back from his face. "Changing into a girl... really, Merlin."

"It seemed like a good idea at the time." Merlin picked up the soap and started on Arthur's back. Arthur didn't usually ask this of him unless he was ill or wounded, but Merlin wanted to stay close to him for this conversation, and getting to touch Arthur's warm skin was an added bonus.

"Why didn't you ever tell me, anyway?" There was a hint of hurt, carefully disguised, in Arthur's voice.

"I wanted to." Merlin shifted the stool so that he was sitting at Arthur's left shoulder. When he glanced up from soaping Arthur's arm, the prince was watching him. "I thought it would make you choose between me and your father, and that didn't seem fair."

"You must know I'd choose you," said Arthur.

Merlin looked up, startled by the raw honesty of the words. "And I choose you. But I thought it would still hurt you. I know how much he means to you."

"Less and less all the time."

Merlin's soapy fingers had stilled on Arthur's shoulder, and he couldn't seem to make them move again. He took a deep breath. "About Marian..."

"I'm really completely uninterested in Marian."

"You said you could never ask a servant to your bed," Merlin went on. His heart was beating as though he were facing down another griffin, but he forced himself to meet Arthur's eyes. "Right?"

Arthur swallowed. "A servant might not feel that they could refuse. Given my station."

"Right." Merlin smiled, because he was nearly certain that the Arthur he'd first met would have had much less care for that. "So it seems like if anything were to happen between you and a servant, they'd have to ask you." He licked his lips nervously. "Right?"

Arthur dragged his gaze back up from Merlin's mouth. His breath had quickened and his shoulder was tense under Merlin's hand. "Right," he whispered.

Merlin searched his eyes for a moment, then leaned forward slowly, giving Arthur time to move away. When his lips were a breath away from Arthur's, he murmured, "You know you can refuse."

"Don't be an idiot," said Arthur, and closed that last gap.

Merlin had half expected that Arthur would take his mouth hard, like a warrior claiming a prize. Instead his kiss was gentle, brushing softly against Merlin's lips, testing, exploring. It wasn't until Merlin traced his tongue along Arthur's bottom lip that he made a deep rumbling sound in his chest and threaded his fingers through Merlin's hair to cup his head. The kiss turned heavy and wet and drugging, and Merlin only came back to himself when Arthur drew back enough to say "Merlin," in a tone of pure wonder.

"You should come out of the bath," said Merlin, kissing along his jaw.

"You think I'm clean enough?" Arthur teased, though the words came out breathy.

"For now." Merlin licked a drop of water off his neck, and said in a low, rough voice, "I'll prepare another bath for us after we're properly dirty."

Chapter Text

Merlin and Gwen nearly collided around the corner near the kitchens late the next morning, and for once it wasn't Merlin's fault. "Steady!" he said, lending a hand to keep her tray from tumbling down. He grinned at her, too happy to be bothered by anything. He couldn't remember the last time he'd woken up so happy. "What's going on?"

"Oh... I just..." She took a firmer grip on the tray and blew a strand of hair out of her face. "Morgana is having lunch in Arthur's quarters, and I just... wanted to get back. That's all." She'd accelerated again, nearly trotting down the corridor.

Merlin stretched his longer legs to keep pace. "You fetched lunch? I was going to do that."

"It's no trouble!"

He eyed her dubiously but let it go for the moment. "Listen, I wanted to talk to you about Lance. I know you weren't best pleased when you caught him eyeing Marian--"

"Oh no, we worked that out," said Gwen. Her breath was quickening as she charged up the stairs. "Morgana said it couldn't be natural, it must be magic at play."

"Oh. All right. Er... has anyone said as much to the king?"

"I don't think so. He's busy searching everywhere for Marian." She paused at the top of the stairs to catch her breath, but only for a moment, then sped off again.

"Slow down, Gwen! Here, let me take the tray."

"No, I have it! You should go help Gaius, or... polish Arthur's armor, or something."

Merlin had to run a few steps to catch up when she took a tight corner. "Come on, Gwen. What's wrong?"

She bit her lip and glanced around, then lowered her voice. "It's just that I think Morgana is going to talk to Arthur about something... delicate. And she said I didn't need to be there, but I'd feel better if I was."

Did Gwen know about Morgana's magic? Morgana had always arranged their lessons for when Gwen wasn't around, but maybe she'd been protecting Merlin rather than herself? "It's fine, Gwen, really."

"Arthur's much better, of course," said Gwen as though he hadn't spoken. "But he can still be a bit difficult about... er, certain things."

"I mean it, it'll be fine," said Merlin again. He took her arm and slowed her as they approached Arthur's door. Lowering his own voice to a whisper, he said, "I'm fairly certain I know what they'll be talking about."

Her expression became, if anything, even more worried. "You do?"

They were only a few steps from the door. "Yes, and it'll be all right, I promise. Arthur won't be upset. We should just let them talk it out."

She shot him an extremely dubious look. As though to emphasize her expression, Arthur's voice rose suddenly from inside the room in a shout of "You did what?"

"Oh dear," breathed Gwen. She tore out of Merlin's grasp, and a moment later had managed to open the door and slip inside. It was a measure of her skill as a servant that nothing on her tray hit the floor. "Beg pardon, my lord!" she said in a high voice.

Merlin sighed and followed her in, closing the door behind him. "I'll help you lay the table," he told Gwen, pretending he didn't see the way Arthur and Morgana were facing off with each other, locked in a silent death stare.

"I can do it!" squeaked Gwen, shoving him away. "You should probably go!"

"How long," Arthur asked Morgana, the words low and threatening, "has this been going on?"

Morgana lifted her chin. "Since last autumn." Her own voice could have chilled a winter storm, but Merlin could see the hint of alarm in the tense line of her back.

"Merlin, go!" hissed Gwen as she set down a dish of sliced chicken. She pushed him toward the door.

It was too late, though. Arthur swung around and fixed his glare on Merlin. "Since last autumn?" he demanded. "What exactly have you been doing with her?"

Gwen clapped both hands over her mouth. Merlin rolled his eyes. "Nothing that would be dangerous, I promise."

"Except for the danger of getting caught!"

"Gwen, you may go," Morgana cut in. Gwen threw her a pleading look and didn't move.

"I can't believe you've... you've known about this!" snarled Arthur.

"Of course I knew, Arthur, I was there," said Merlin. He ignored Gwen's squeak and stepped around her as she began to wring her hands. "Why are you so upset?"

"Why am I... Oh, I don't know, Merlin! Maybe it's because you've been taking your life into your hands by having secret meetings with the king's ward! Maybe it's because you didn't tell me but instead you..." Words appeared to fail him; he gestured wildly in Morgana's direction.

Instead he'd told Morgana about his magic. Oops. "I only told her because I had to, you jealous prat, and it isn't her fault--"

"Do you understand what would have happened to you if Uther had caught you in Morgana's room? Even if you hadn't been doing anything obviously illegal--"

"Oh please," cut in Morgana. "I could have managed the situation."

"Merlin is the one who would have suffered the consequences!" Arthur snarled, rounding on her again. "I should thrash you both to within an inch of your lives!"

"My lord, please!" Gwen flung herself around the table and caught Arthur's arm, turning pleading eyes up to him. "You must understand what it's like to be in love! Don't you?"

Arthur stared down at her. "What?"

"What?" said Merlin.

"Gwen..." said Morgana, pressing her fingers to her forehead.

"They've both been so much happier since this started," Gwen went on. "Morgana has even been sleeping better! And Merlin is the kindest person imaginable, you know that!"

Arthur blinked once, slowly, and then again. "Merlin," he said in a careful tone. "Am I to understand--"

"No! Er... no offense, Morgana--"

"None taken," she said. She seemed to be caught between irritation and a wicked smirk.

"--but I'd never... that is, you know I'm not interested in Morgana."

"I certainly hope you aren't," said Arthur, and now he sounded downright dangerous.

Gwen let go of Arthur's sleeve and stepped back, looking between Merlin and Morgana in confusion. "You aren't... in love? But you've been arranging meetings for months."

Morgana massaged her temples. "I should have known I couldn't fool you, Gwen," she said ruefully. "You didn't believe a single one of my excuses, did you?"

"Er... well..."

"Don't pretend, it doesn't suit you." Morgana took a deep breath and held out her hands. When Gwen had placed her own hands in them, Morgana managed a smile. "I have been keeping a secret from you, but it wasn't about being in love. And... and you should know, it hasn't been because I didn't trust you. Only because you're dear to me, and I wanted to protect you. Do you understand?"

"...No?"

"Right. Well, this should make things clear."

"So... both of you?" Gwen said faintly a little later. Arthur had helped her into a chair and was now standing awkwardly next to her, occasionally patting her shoulder.

"Yes, both of us," said Morgana. She would have seemed calm if not for how her hands twisted before her. "We didn't choose it. Some people are just born with magic; they can't help it."

Gwen nodded slowly, eyes distant.

"Guinevere," said Arthur, going to one knee beside her, "please believe that Merlin and Morgana aren't dangerous to you. Merlin has been taking care of us all for ages, and I suspect that Morgana has helped as well... since last autumn." He flicked a glance between them that promised further conversation on that score later.

"Oh, I... no, of course. Of anyone I can imagine..." Gwen bit her lip.

The door swung open suddenly, and Merlin jumped. He really needed to get in the habit of locking it.

"Arthur?" Uther came in, Bertrand trailing behind like usual. "You're back already. Did you kill the sorcerer?"

"Dragoon won't bother us again, Father," said Arthur smoothly as he rose to his feet.

Merlin looked at Gwen, who was now staring at the floor. Her back was stiff with tension, and it seemed to leak into his own muscles. Surely Gwen wouldn't say anything. Would she?

"I can't find that new maidservant," said Uther, his tone becoming querulous. "Bertrand hasn't been able to find her either. I thought maybe the sorcerer had made off with her."

"Nothing so dramatic," said Morgana. "She was very grateful to hear that she won't be forced to marry an old man. But it seems she had another lover in mind, and now that she's free of her betrothal, has gone to marry the man of her choice."

"Already?" said Uther, incredulous. "That can't be right. I just talked to the steward, and he said nothing of her leaving."

"You know how shy she is, sire," said Morgana. "She didn't feel comfortable approaching the steward directly."

"Actually, Your Majesty," said Gwen suddenly, getting to her feet. She made a small curtsey while every muscle in Merlin's body was busy seizing in terror. "Marian spoke to me before she left. She just wasn't used to life in a castle, sire, and had been in love with a chapman for some time."

"A chapman?" Uther's brow crinkled with disgust. "A chapman!"

When he'd gone, Merlin closed and locked the door and then turned to lean against it. "Gwen," he said with feeling, "you're brilliant."

Gwen smiled, but it was very small. "I think I'd like to know everything, please," she said, watching Merlin steadily.

"Yes," said Arthur, and gestured toward the table. "I think I would too."

"Merlin," said Arthur much later that night.

"Mmm?" Merlin was drifting pleasantly toward sleep, sprawled in the circle of Arthur's arms. Royal beds were very comfortable indeed, especially when shared with Arthur.

"Were you trying to protect me?" asked Arthur. The words floated between them like a secret.

"When?" asked Merlin, waking up a little more.

"All this time." Arthur's arm tightened around Merlin's chest. "Were you trying to protect me by not telling me?"

"Oh." Merlin thought about it for a minute. "That's one way to put it. I wasn't lying when I said I didn't want to make you choose." He slid his hand over Arthur's and stroked the back of it with his thumb, feeling the ridges of tiny scars. "It is my job to protect you, you know."

"It's my job to protect you," Arthur corrected him. His fingers traced the edges of the burn scar on Merlin's chest.

Merlin snuggled back further, luxuriating in the deliciously bare skin pressed against him. "We'll have to take it in turns, then," he murmured, interlacing their fingers and pressing them to his heart.