Merlyn's Only Hope

The Labyrinth of Gedref P2

Gaius was staring out of the small window in his chambers, observing the early dawn quietly making its way across Camelot. Merlyn had told him what had happened the night before, the challenges set in place by Anhora and Arthur's inability to accept any fault. His silent judgement was unnerving, feeding Merlyn's worry.

"And you believe what this Anhora said to be true?" the physician asked, tilting his head slightly at the servant.

"You said there's a legend that misfortune comes to anyone who slays a unicorn. It makes sense." Merlyn spoke quickly, never breaking eye contact, not even as she took half a spoonful of porridge from the wooden bowl in front of her. Gaius sat across from her, putting his own bowl down on the table. Neither of them had much to eat, not that it was particularly surprising with the ongoing famine.

"Not much for breakfast, I'm afraid. We're down to our last few scraps of food." Gaius stirred at his oats, probably readying himself for eating the unappealing substance.

"Where did you get the water to make the tea?" Merlyn asked, taking a sip of the surprisingly pleasant beverage.

"Fortunately for both of us, you forgot to empty your bath yesterday."

The servant forced herself not to spit out the drink, swallowing it down forcefully. "You're making tea out of my bathwater?" she questioned, resting the cup on the table.

"It's not so bad, perhaps a little soapy." Merlyn gave him a look that he chose to ignore; instead, he focused on the most recent threat to Camelot.

"What does Arthur think of the curse?" he wondered aloud, his lips twitching at Merlyn's exasperated sigh.

"He doesn't believe it's his fault. He's convinced that Anhora is responsible for it."

Gaius leaned forward, trying to comfort an obviously annoyed servant. "If you do not wish to drink bathwater, you'd better make sure that Arthur sees sense."

Merlyn nodded, mulling over the physician's words. She knew that Arthur needed to believe in Anhora's words; she just wasn't sure if she was the right person to convince him.

∆

Arthur would never admit it, but he was struggling to dress without Merlyn. He'd become too comfortable, too complacent with her help, so much so that simply pulling on his boots had become a chore. Finally, after much effort, he had some success, only for him to turn his foot, surprised to be able to see his sock through a hole in his brown, leather shoes. With his anger, taking them off again was even more of a struggle than putting them on, but eventually, he managed it; he was able to examine the tough soles of his boot. Sticking a finger through the hole, he took a long, deep breath through his nose, exhaling harshly.

"That rat..." he trailed off, looking around as if the scurrying creature would suddenly squirm into his line of sight. Instead, a rather late Merlyn burst through the door, carrying a limited breakfast tray and a pile of laundry.

"It's eaten through my boot, look at it." he stood, thrusting the shoe in Merlyn's face. The servant remained calm, setting down the breakfast tray before raising her eyebrow.

"I guess the rat must be as hungry as the rest of us." she grinned, causing the prince to feel further infuriated.

"You think this is funny." he brandished the boot as if it were a weapon, waving it in her face.

"Moderately." she replied, biting her lip to stop herself from laughing.

He threw the boot at her, trying not to show his amusement at the fact that she caught it before it hit her in the face. "Get it mended, and find that rat." he shouted, turning away so that he didn't have to see Merlyn's smiling face.