Mild CW for forced kisses. It's brief, not described in detail or portrayed as too awful, but this is your heads up just in case.
Also fills my remaining Tournament Bingo squares for: Future tense, BAMF Merthur, the Knights, Gifts&Festivities, Spell gone wrong, Jealousy(brief but there), Forced Proximity(two kinds) & First Kiss(of sorts)
The day that Arthur lies on his deathbed will start with a very simple skirmish. The morning will break, and word of a rogue sorcerer will arrive from a hamlet on the outskirts of the kingdom's territory. Arthur will forgo his breakfast for planning, servants will scurry to fetch Knights and supplies, stablehands will ready horses. Merlin will walk the corridors as a spot of blue calm amongst the frenzy. He will don - reluctantly - the rich blue robes and cloak that mark him as a member of Arthur's court, and he will fill a simple pack with bread and cheese, apples and dried herbs. He will close up the physician's chambers securely, whisper a spell to keep out all but himself, and set off to find his King.
Arthur will be pacing, as he always does. He will hurl a barb in greeting that would make a maiden blush, and Merlin will respond in kind, and throw an apple at his head. The King will speak of stocks and maces, but he'll eat the apple, as he always does.
They'll ride well before noon, seven men on seven horses, at a brutal pace. Their horses will tire slowly, and they will make good time. Two days ride, but they'll be done that evening, and facing the reported threat by dawn.
That threat, of course, will be more deadly than reported, and will inevitably fall into a messy, frenzied skirmish. This will happen because the King will offer the man his life in return for surrender. He will receive a mouthful of curses and an enchanted dagger wound for his trouble. Merlin will retaliate, the man will turn to ash in moments, and the King will sigh and complain about overreactions as he is tended to buy his sniping warlock.
While he is doing so, another magic user will sling a sickening enchantment at Him which has him momentarily occupied trying to focus his own magic on untying it. With Merlin unable to solve their predicament instantly, the Knights five shall descend upon the man cautiously, but with rage. And while they do so, and the King stands with sword and shield to protect Merlin, a third man will try to curse him.
This will not go well for all involved. Merlin will relinquish focus for instinct, and unleash a great wave of power that sends all but six men from their feet. He will be scolded later, but at the time, the King will just be grateful to have Merlin freed of his invisible, frozen prison.
All in all, two knights will be wounded, three sorcerers slain, and two villagers rescued from death by the King's right hand man and the herbs from his pack. A young sorceress will curtsey to them, and ply the pair with sweet cakes her mother has made for the village celebrations planned for that night. She will give each of the Knights a different prize, but they will pocket them just as gratefully. The men from Camelot will offer their apologies for not staying to celebrate with them, on account of the many things they are needed for elsewhere.
When they are back on their horses and on their way again, the King will begin scolding Merlin for his haste to cremate the first man.
"You could have given me a minute to talk to him, y'know."
Merlin will splutter, and throw him a glare that nobody would believe meant anything but fondness.
"Talk to him? Did you miss the big cursed dagger he chucked at you?"
King Arthur will raise an eyebrow mockingly.
"Do I, or do I not, have the greatest sorcerer to ever live, now even half competent in healing magic, at my side?"
Merlin will grouse, and throw his ridiculous, dragon-embroidered blue cape at him, but his ears will pinken at the scarcely-veiled praise. The men behind them will trade grins, and make comments about children, and the two most powerful men in Albion will turn in unison to spit back their retorts.
All in all, it won't seem as if anything is amiss, and they will make the journey back to Camelot without further issue. That will continue to be the case until, of course, the King eats the gifted sweet he was given, and falls violently ill.
Of course, he won't realise he is, in fact, violently ill, until he's saying words he would never say, and pressing against the stone wall of the armoury a man very much spoken for by someone else.
"Sire! I don't think you're well."
"Nonsense, Lancelot, I am perfectly well. Let me show you just how well I am."
Caught between obedient decorum and the desperate need to stop anything from happening that would later being embarrassment, Lancelot begins easing to one side in the hopes of escape. He almost makes it, too, before the King's mouth captures his, and Lancelot will shove him off as gently as is effective.
"Arthur?"
Lancelot will close his eyes in guilty misery, for the man who speaks will be standing in the doorway with a crestfallen expression upon his elfin features.
"There's something wrong," he will plead, looking pitifully at the envy in Merlin's eyes, "he is not himself."
Arthur, for his part, will make another attempt to prevent Lancelot from leaving the confines of the corner.
"Merlin, please. Do you really think I'd-"
That's what does it, for if nothing else, Lancelot knows Merlin is very much aware of his devotion to Gwen. Merlin's expression will change, jealousy giving way to a panicked concern, and when Arthur grabs roughly at Lancelot's chin and tries again, Merlin will thrust out a hand, and the stunned King will slump, and Lancelot will just barely catch him in time.
The King will be lain upon his bed, and a feverishly concerned warlock will strew book upon book across the bedroom in an attempt to find a solution. Each time Arthur wakes, Merlin will give him water, feed him something easy on the stomach, and ply him with a sleeping draught before he gets back the strength to leave the bed and search for the Knights.
Besides Lancelot, at this point Percival will have been scarred for life too, and not upon his skin.
Merlin will sit in an armchair by the bedside, his fingers ingrained with old ink and dust, and try his best not to envy. It's difficult, to reason with his own heart, but he will do his best, unsuccessfully, to not feel slighted by the fact that Arthur's attentions, even while clearly enchanted, seem intended for anyone but him.
The council, convinced by the Knights, will confine Merlin to Arthur's chamber with him until an answer can be found. Merlin will grumble occasionally to himself, whenever his meals are delivered or a change of guards are posted, that really, where else would he be when his King is incapacitated by an unknown Magic?
Arthur will begin to fade. Over the span of two days, his waking periods will shorten to the point where Merlin feeds him no draught and he is still fairly swiftly unconscious again.
He will send word, expecting no answer, to the woman who baked the cakes the King consumed. He will plead with her for answers, against the wishes of the council. He will, despite their apprehension to let any word out of their King's condition, beg for the knowledge of what spellwork she used.
He will be surprised, when he receives a response, sent on furious horseback with the pageboy. The letter begins with an apology, and an explanation that the King's strange new interest in his Knights was not the intended outcome. She supplies him with the spellwork, an old favourite of her long dead Grandmother, and an embarrassed admission that she has not herself received any training in the world of Magic, what with Uther killing her parents and Grandmother both, during his purge.
Merlin will laugh in relief, and redden in the face as he reads her letter.
A love spell, of a variety. Designed as a gentle nudge, not at all as the queer personality change that will be the reality of her work.
I can only send my sincerest apologies, Lord Merlin. It had been my hope to help the two of you discover any love between you, as a thanks for your protection of our homes. The stories I have heard of my Grandmother's spell are sweet tales of hesitant lovers too afraid to confess, not the coercion you have written of. I hope that in your immense power, you will find a way to undo my foolishness. I will never forgive myself.
With that new information on hand, Merlin will of course save our beloved King Arthur from his slow demise, and upon waking, and realising the horrors he has put upon two of his most loyal friends, King Arthur will beg, as he so very rarely allows himself to, for their forgiveness.
All will, in the end, be forgiven. The baker will receive a letter on regal parchment and sealed with the Pendragon stamp, offering her tutelage from one of Merlin's most promising students.
A month later, she will receive a brief note, hastily scribbled in the warlock's handwriting, thanking her for her incorrect spellwork anyway.
And not two months after that, she will receive a much tidier letter, requesting her attendance at the upcoming royal wedding.
Giving away a family secret, she will reason to herself, was a worthy sacrifice for such an honour.
