The curious case of Merlin Morgana

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The first thing Merlin's tired mind registered once he was fully awake, from what felt like a deep slumber, was that he was laying on a soft mattress.

'Strange.' He thought, for he wasn't used to such things, yet it was oddly comfortable and recognizable. He kept his eyes closed, letting himself be absorbed by the peacefulness he was feeling inside, joined by the sunrays on his face; he hoped he would never have to get up. Merlin felt for the first time in a long time, surprisingly well-rested.

A groan reached his ears and he froze and held his breath.

'Whoa! What was that?' He wondered.

Someone rolled over in the bed beside him, and he felt the arm around his chest - which he hadn't realized was there - tighten its hold slightly. Merlin shivered; his mind stopped functioning for a split second. He raised his eyebrows, his eyes remaining shut.

The bed shifted again and he blinked twice, trying not to make any sudden movements. He started to freak out. Someone was next to him, but who? Since he could feel smooth skin, he came to the conclusion that he was bare-chested.

"Not good, not good," he repeated, over and over again, until he could no longer pronounce the words correctly.

Eventually, his eyes fluttered open, the bright light from the sun hit them and he shielded them with his arm. Moments later, once his eyes grew accustomed to the daylight, he pulled his arm away. The first thing his eyes noticed was the ceiling. He furrowed his brow as he took in the sight above of him.

Somehow, it looked awfully familiar to him. It was not the ceiling from his room in Gaius's house that he had woken up to countless of times. Even though it was different, it gave him an eerie feeling of recognition. He was in one of castle's room. Which one? He had no clue. Another thing to add to the odd list, he noted.

What had he done last night that led him here? There was the possibility that maybe he'd gone to the tavern last night, perhaps Gwaine pressed him to, which could explain the memory lost.

'Wait until I put my hands on you, Gwaine,' He threatened. 'You'll pay for this.'

But after the tavern, did he…? He didn't have the heart to finish that thought. Swallowing the lump that formed in his throat, he growled mentally. Now how would he remedy this? His mind screamed at him for answers.

He took a deep breath in, an attempt to calm himself. His hand reached down the sheets, checking his nether half. Once his fingertips felt the fabric of his trousers, he sighed in relief. He made sure to do so as quietly as possible.

So perhaps nothing happened, he secretly hoped. Perhaps he'd been too drunk and he had offered to walk this woman back to her chamber, and on accident, ended up spending the night. That was more likely to happen. He was quite settled for that poor explanation.

What should he do next? He wondered. Should he leave or wait until the woman woke up?

Still unable to make a decision, Merlin tried to remember if Arthur had given him any extra things to do. But nothing came to him.

Strangely enough, he couldn't remember Gwaine asking for his company. Yesterday he was… everything was a blur, vague.

Yesterday, he had… he couldn't remember. He closed his eyes, trying to focus harder. No, no... He knew where he had been … he...he tried to think of the events of the previous day, anything. But they were hard to summon, everything seemed so far away; so foreign to him.

Why couldn't he remember last night? A thought clicked in his mind, as he came to realize something.

What was the last thing he remembered? Last thing he did, last thing he said. What happened to him? Arthur. Something about Arthur, Morgana, and Mordred; something bad had happened, he could sense it. He must find him, he needed...

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