I have magic - Merlin Fanfiction

Chapter Eleven

The hall is decorated so beautifully, tables strewn with vines and overladen with food, that for a few hours Arthur really does manage to forget about his troubles. Even Agravaine is less irritating when he has a few tankards of mead down him.

Merlin is meant to be working, but the knights - Gwaine especially - keep trying to persuade him to abandon his duties and join them for a drink. He laughs along with their jokes, but doesn't touch a drop, and Arthur wonders if there is an element of necessity to that decision. Is he worried that getting drunk might make him more liable to tell his secret?

Eventually, just as midnight is about to strike, Arthur rises to his feet. The raucous laughter and merrymaking dies down as everyone picks up their goblets and looks to their leader.

"Samhain. It is the time of year when we feel closest to the spirits of our ancestors." Merlin smiles wryly as Arthur recites the servant's speech to those assembled. "It is a time to remember those we have lost to celebrate their passing." Around the tables he sees many react, no doubt thinking of loved ones lost too soon. Arthur himself thinks of Sirs Bertrand and Montague.

It is strange, delivering the Samhain toast. It was always his father's job and of course there had been no celebration last year. This moment of oddity seems to encapsulate all the differences which have arisen since Morgana's betrayal, since Uther was forced to step down from the throne. Arthur mentions the King in his speech, gestures to the empty throne between Agravaine and himself, and states his hope and belief that Uther will recover. Then he lifts his goblet high.

"To the King."

The castle's bell tolls, once, and everyone stands.

"To the King!" they echo, and toast. Which is when a concussive clang! echoes through the hall.

Everyone looks to see the source of the noise and Arthur looks with them. It is Merlin, apparently having dropped a jug and, as Arthur watches, the servant's eyes roll up into his head and he collapses gracelessly to the ground.

Arthur feels an instant thrill of fear, thinking of the last time he had seen Merlin pass out like this. It was all those years ago, when the servant had drunk poisoned wine on Arthur's behalf - but Merlin has not been drinking. Arthur tamps down his initial urge to leap to Merlin's side; he can't leave the feast for the sake of a servant.

Merlin's voice, reproachful, echoes in his mind.

I thought you believed in equality?

Lancelot hurries to Merlin's prone form, Gaius right behind him. None of the nobility pay even the slightest attention as the servant is carried, limp and unresponsive, from the room. Arthur's face burns with shame as he focuses back on the celebration and forces a laugh at some unfunny story of his Uncle's. As soon as it is appropriate, he will make his excuses and go directly to check on Merlin.

It is almost morning by the time Arthur pries himself away from the festivities. He enters the Physician's chambers to find Gaius snoring in bed and, instantly, he relaxes; if Merlin were in any real trouble, there is no way Gaius would be asleep. Arthur creeps past him to the staircase that leads up to Merlin's room.

"Arthur?" Merlin sits up. He is wrapped in a swathe of blankets and the shaft of moonlight coming in through the window accentuates the waxen pallor of his skin. "What are you d-doing here?"

Arthur frowns, noting the shiver that almost interrupts his servant's question. "Gods Merlin, the sound of your teeth chattering is making me even colder."

Merlin smiles at the familiar jibe, and lights a candle on his bedside with a flash of his eyes. "I'm s-starting to warm up now."

"What happened?"