Merlyn's Fate

Sweet Dreams P2

Merlyn had managed to tuck Arthur into bed, pouring him a full cup of wine, knowing he needed it in his somber state. The moping would've been funny if the servant wasn't so bloody angry with the prat.

"Go on, Merlyn, say it." he sighed dramatically, folding his arms across his broad chest.

"What?" she asked, extending her arm to hand him the glass.

Arthur stared straight ahead, not even looking in his servant's direction as he grasped the cup reflexively. "You do not think I should pursue my love."

"Well, seeing as you're asking, I think a number of things stand in your way of a happy union between you and Vivian. Her bloodthirsty father for one." she spat furiously, clenching her fists as the Prince continued to fixate on the wall, barely even listening to a word she was saying.

"Her complete lack of interest for another." Arthur mumbled, nursing his wine as they spoke.

Merlyn frowned at the man's sorrowful state, but she didn't say anything more, sure that the Prince was in no mood to hear any of her own suggestions. Even if she was fairly confident that Arthur wasn't himself, his sudden infatuation still hurt her. He had never sent her flowers, written her terrible notes, marched to her chambers with the promise of destiny and chicken. She didn't resent him for it: the servant knew perfectly well why the Prince could never be any more open in his affections than he already was, but it didn't stop her wishing for something more, even if it was utterly pointless. She turned to leave, confident that Arthur had settled down for the nights when she heard an outraged cry behind her.

"What on earth?" The Prince sounded rather disgusted, showing Merlyn a clump of bright, blonde hair, a colour much lighter than Arthur's own. "You really need to start paying attention to the details."

∆

Gaius was examining the lock of hair closely, twirling the strands in his fingertips.

"I knew something wasn't right." she stated, knowing this was not the time for triumph.

Gaius frowned. "Arthur's been enchanted."

"I knew something was wrong. Nobody can make butterflies out of thin air." Merlyn cursed herself for not thinking of it sooner. The physician nodded, but still seemed a little unsettled.

"Trickler. But why would he want them to be in love?"

Merlyn opened her mouth to reply, but, at that moment, Gwen burst into the room. "It's Alined! He's using Arthur to disrupt the treaty!" she cried, panting, apparently having run about the length of the castle.

Gaius' eyes widened. "An advance from the Prince would be a sure fire way to ruin the peace conference."

Gwen nodded. "He wants war, I overheard him talking to his jester."

"Without creating it himself." Merlyn realised, feeling everything slot into place. Perhaps Alined thought that his land would benefit more from war than from peace.

"It's the sort of cowardly behaviour you'd expect from him. Cowardly, but clever." The physician remarked, eying both Merlyn and Gwen carefully.

The witch thought aloud, "We need to find a way of turning Arthur back to normal."

Gwen nodded in agreement. "Before it's too late."

∆

After the blacksmith's daughter had gone home with the promise that, if they found anything, she would be the first to know, Merlyn had begun to flick through her books, trying to find something useful. So far, she had found 636 love spells, over 150 of them involving a lock of hair. What made it worse was the fact that, if she chose wrong, Vivian could lose all her hair or Arthur could turn into a toad. As much as the latter would quieten Camelot and actually sounded quite appealing, the witch decided that it would be best used on a day where a rival kingdom wasn't trying to start a war. She made her way up to Vivian's chambers, a little late, but she doubted the Princess would mind. After Merlyn had inadvertently saved her life from bandits during their early ride the day before, Vivian had been much nicer, although her face when the servant had helped her off the ground, from where she had fallen when her horse had spooked, was something she would treasure.