Is this real?

Chapter 1

He was getting sick of this. Merlin raced down the castle's long corridors, dodging startled servants and bemused guards, his gasping breaths burning in his lungs. He careened around a corner, skidding into the opposite wall and pushing himself off without pausing to register the scraped skin of his palms. His long legs ate up the distance to the guest chambers. Muscles aflame, he slammed into the double doors and wrenched them open.

He was first met with twin gazes of shock; both swiftly shifted, Arthur's into annoyance with a touch of outright anger and Lady Mair's into fury, quickly buried under faux innocence and confusion.

"Merlin! What do you think you're doing?" Arthur asked through gritted teeth. Merlin hadn't really thought about this part. He knew he had to get to Arthur in time and save him (yet again) - the "how" he hadn't managed to cover.

"Arthur - I mean, Sire," he stumbled, "there's...uh... There's a problem with the wine!" Yes, that was plausible. As long as Arthur didn't ask any follow up questions, that should work.

"What problem with the wine?" Damn.

"It's gone bad. Bad wine. You mustn't drink any. You haven't drunk any, have you?"

Arthur glared - god, he could be intimidating when he wanted to be. "I haven't had a chance yet, Merlin."

"Oh good!" Merlin hurried forward, grabbing the pitcher from the table moments before Lady Mair's delicate hand could intercept. "I'll just get you some fresh." He turned but, out of the corner of his eye, saw Arthur bringing his goblet to his lips. Immediately the pitcher crashed to the ground, deep red wine drenching the floor, the noise making Arthur jump and pull his goblet away before he could take a sip.

"Merlin, you clumsy idiot," Arthur sighed, exasperation painted in the curve of his eyebrows, amusement in the twitch of his lips.

"Please, my lord," Lady Mair spoke in her melodious voice, "there's no harm done." She smiled softly at Merlin, a barely perceptible flicker of hatred passing over her eyes. "Have a drink to calm yourself. Merlin, is it? Could you go and fetch some rags to clean up, and that fresh wine for us?" She turned back to Arthur without waiting for a reply, her long eyelashes fluttering gently. Arthur smiled tightly at her in turn. Merlin suppressed the rising urge to roll his eyes - was he actually falling for her act? He knew Arthur could be a clotpole, but really? Fluttering eyelashes and pretty pink lips and the man would believe anything.

"You mustn't have that wine, Sire, it could make you ill and we couldn't have that," Merlin tried, determined not to fail just because Arthur apparently had a desperate wish to die at the hands of a beautiful woman. He swooped in, but unfortunately Arthur was a touch faster than his lovely dining companion, pulling his goblet back out of Merlin's reach.

"What on earth is going on here Merlin? No more rubbish about bad wine," he continued, interrupting Merlin's next attempt at an excuse before he could do more than open his mouth, "I want the truth. You are insulting my guest."

Anger flared in Merlin's chest, hot and sickening. After everything they had been through, everything he had done for Arthur, he couldn't even give him the courtesy of a little faith? Before he had a chance to collect himself, he spoke: "She's trying to poison you, Arthur!"

Shocked faces, again. Understandable, probably not the best way to have addressed this. Lady Mair managed to gather a few tears in her eyes, turning to Arthur to defend herself, but he raised a hand, silencing her before she could speak. He rose, facing Merlin with steel in his eyes. "Lady Mair is an honoured guest of Camelot. Her father and mine were friends and he is a valued ally of this kingdom, yet you dare to accuse her of this?!"

Merlin fought the urge to sink backwards and look away, holding Arthur's gaze, willing him to just think, for once, and remember who had proven their loyalty time and again, who in this room he should know would do anything for him. "Arth - Sire," he spoke, keeping his voice as measured and calm as he could, "I heard her discussing a plan to poison your wine tonight. Do you not wonder why she has no goblet for herself? If you would just have a guard search the chambers, I am sure you would find - "

"Enough!" Arthur spoke. "You would have me treat this innocent woman with such suspicion? You forget yourself, Merlin." A vicious smile played across her lips behind Arthur. "Leave us." He commanded.

Merlin stood firm. There was no way he could follow such an order. He knew why Arthur spoke like this - Lady Mair's father was indeed a powerful ally, one whose support Camelot could not afford to lose. But that wasn't a reason to be an idiot! Merlin tried again: "If you just - "

"Merlin! Another word against her and I will have you put in the stocks. Go!"

Well, he had tried talking and failed spectacularly. Maybe he should have tried fluttering his eyelashes too. Next best option: action. Merlin darted forward - Arthur, distracted in his frustration, could only watch as the goblet was yanked from his reach. Merlin felt a wave of deja vu crash into him - sooner or later he was going to have to stop risking his life for this prat - but evidently that would not be today. "You cannot trust her, Arthur" he said and, without another moment's hesitation, brought the goblet to his own lips and drank. The effects were swift; all he knew was a fire rushing through him, Arthur's eyes widening as raw panic swept across his features, then blackness.