Chapter Text
The curse was only meant to last long enough to break the proposed alliance between Camelot's King and the visiting princess of Faris. The sorcerer of Faris, seeking the beautiful princess for himself, lay a spell on Arthur to ensure that he would reject the princess. Being of a humorous inclination, the sorcerer sent Arthur into a desperate love with his servant, the peasant-born Merlin.
Of course Merlin found it all out. Arthur, enraged, ended the alliance and banished the princess and her would be lover. Merlin discovered the cure for the sorcerer's love spell, a soup made from a plant found in a distant valley.
Hanging back beside the door in Arthur's chambers, Merlin outlined his plan to ride and fetch the plant. He watched Arthur's expression, ready to dodge into the corridor at every moment. The King had been extremely tetchy under the influence of the love spell, and Merlin did not need anything thrown at his head. "The plant is called Warlock's Tear. It's very rare and only grows in one place in all the kingdom. If the enchanted person drinks a soup made from the plant, it will undo any magic."
"Right," said Arthur. He sat at his desk, surrounded by unread state papers. An untouched plate of chicken lay among the debris. "Magic herb. Soup. Cured. Right."
"I'll set off immediately, sire." Merlin inclined his head in courteous farewell.
"What? No, I'm coming with you."
Merlin flinched. "There is no need-"
Arthur smacked his hand on his desk. "Dammit, yes there is! I'm not waiting here for you to plod back like a cow in a daisy field. I need a cure as soon as it can possibly be found. I keep gazing at you and frankly it's putting me off my dinner. I'm coming with you. That's an order."
"Yes sire." Merlin suppressed a sigh. An enamoured king ought to have meant that Arthur treated him a little better, but no, the spell seemed to have sent Arthur into a frenzy of irritation with the object of his affection.
"Oh, don't give me that." Arthur waved his hands.
"What?"
"Puppy dog face."
"This is just my normal face."
"Argh!"
"It will be all right, Arthur," said Merlin. "We'll break the spell." Secretly he had already been trying. But the sorcerer's work was hard to crack. "The soup will work. And I'll be fast. There really is no need for you to come too."
"Oh really? This soup. It's most effective when eaten fresh, yes?"
"...Yes."
"Then it's best if I am there on the spot when you make it. So I'm coming with you. And also..." Arthur groaned. "I want to." He clutched his head. "Or I would...miss you."
"I'm sorry," said Merlin softly.
Arthur closed his eyes in despair. "Just go. I'll meet you in the courtyard. -No. Wait. Stay."
Merlin stopped in the doorway, one foot in the royal chambers, one in the chilly corridor. He could feel Arthur's longing on the back of his neck, like the touch of a petal falling from a rose.
"No, go," said Arthur, and Merlin had never heard him so miserable.