It had not been a good night for poor old Gaius. While Merlin had been released in the wake of his arrest, Gaius himself had been cast into a cold cell. Occasionally, Aredian would visit, and the visits were less pleasant every time. Sometimes because of actions, though those weren't the worst.

The worst were the promises.

Gaius had thought to save Merlin and his friends with his sacrifice, but Aredian was now promising him otherwise. Gaius would be only the beginning. After him, Merlin would follow. Then those two little maids, and then perhaps the Lady Morgana. He had spoken to her, too, and well... she had this stench about her...

... though as it turned out, Aredian did not get permission to question Morgana until after he had measured Gaius's reaction.

"You have corrupted them, Gaius. And so they must answer for your crimes."

Morning was not going to be a happy affair.

[[ for those in camelot Warning: for torture references. ]]
"Merlin!"

There hadn't been a sign of the boy on Monday. Gaius hadn't known where he was, Morgana's maidservant - the one Merlin'd been sweet on years ago, Guinevere - didn't have a clue, and his father had just said something about keeping a better eye on one's servant, as if it were even remotely possible to keep the bloody idiot on a leash.

By Tuesday morning, Arthur was sincerely reconsidering that option. (It was better than being visibly worried, at least)

"Still no sign of him, sire," Gaius said, looking up to meet his eyes. "Perhaps he's ventured too far out into the forest, or gotten some fool idea into his head. You know Merlin-- if his head wasn't attached, it would drift off into the ether."

Arthur made an absolutely frustrated noise, and took a deep breath to remind himself that the physician couldn't help it. (Also, he'd rather not wind up 'accidentally' poked in the wound next time he got hurt) "Right," he said, keeping it short. "Inform me if his useless hide does turn up. My armor needs polishing, my saddle's dirty, my boots need shining--"

He could have gone on (he was not worried, goddammit-- and he was not overcompensating for it).

"Sire," Gaius said, inclining his head. "I have a potion to finish."

"Of course."

He began to turn around.

"And sire?"

He paused.

"Merlin has been dealing with this for far longer without getting caught," Gaius said, idly leaning over his potion. "There is no need to get carried away." A pause. "But I do hope you will look after it, just as well."

Arthur took a deep breath. Nodded.

Then yanked the door shut behind him, and told a passing maidservant to get him some breakfast, now, he was starving. He'd continue his search. Damn the big-eared fool.

[[ for a wizard ]]
It had been several days' walk getting here, with precious little chance to get anywhere near where anyone held horses. And Arthur hadn't had too much coin on him regardless - the villagers might have lended him a horse based by his identity alone if he'd gotten close enough, but he had mixed feelings about taking from the poorer towns along the road to the castle.

What he also held mixed feelings about were the darkening clouds that seemed to gain in number the closer they got. The euphoria of being home was starting to eb away slowly under the tide of concern for the castle and the vague worries about their ability to ever contact Fandom again - although the first was, as always, of greater priority to Arthur.

By the time Camelot's spires became visible, jutting proudly up out of the countryside, the sky had gotten black enough to go for night. It was enough to somewhat dampen the release of homesickness; Arthur's heart seemed to beat faster at the same time his stomach contracted. Anxiety, not an illness he should fall to.

Concern, instead.

And battle-readiness, as the three of them approached the gates and found what laid beyond them to be mostly silent and strewn with rubble-- the same scene as most of the lower town.

At least until Arthur listened closer, and could hear the yelling of knights in the distance.

[[ ocd up! for those who be there! ]]

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