Chapter Text
This was a horrible idea. Arthur seemed to know this deep down, but refused to acknowledge it outside of the odd nervous glance over the edge of the boat. Though, as was Arthur’s usual way of doing things, any outright fear was quickly disguised as anticipation for the coming battle. Or was it a quest? Merlin wasn’t sure anymore, as he’d assumed this journey was to be an average public appearance to keep neighboring kingdoms happy, but had been told moments ago that their trivial act of good faith towards the other kingdom would be to hunt down a SIREN. A full blown lure-you-into-the-water-and-tear-you-to-bits siren. Which was all well and good, of course, except the fact that the ship they were meant to be taking was ALL MEN.
Generally, sirens only affected men, and because of this it was commonplace to send one or two women on the voyage to perform the necessary tasks while the male crew members were incapacitated by the siren’s song. For some reason, this particular ship was intending to break tradition in the riskiest way possible.
The plan was relatively simple, which unfortunately made it very simple to mess up. They’d all be tied to the masts by Merlin until they docked at the isle where the Siren was said to reside upon, and there, they’d drink special tonics that Gaius had provided which were meant to protect them from the Siren’s spell. The tonic would give them two hours to find and kill it.
Both Merlin and Arthur were given two vials, Merlin because he needed to be in his right mind to give the rest of the crew their tonic and join them in the hunt when the time came, and Arthur because he was the prince. As usual, that was the only reason. Uther had requested it specifically, citing “the future of Camelot” as he seemed to be so fond of doing.
The captain was given a slightly fuller vial with the intention of drinking a little to give him enough sanity to dock the boat, and then down the rest to join the hunt.
The main ingredient in the potion was a flower that only grew on the siren’s isle, and therefore was so incredibly rare and dangerous to recover that supplies of the tonic were scarce. All this, Arthur related to Merlin no more than five minutes ago while they were fetching last minute supplies.
Arthur tossed burlap sack after burlap sack on top of the already unbearable load Merlin was carrying. Merlin was still trying to process what he’d just been told.
“You’re joking.”
“Do I look like I’m joking?”
“You look like a prat, at the moment.”
“Watch it.”
Arthur tossed one last sack on top of the load, leaving Merlin to sway and stumble about clumsily in a wild effort to stay standing. After a few too many seconds of this, Arthur groaned and heaved half of the load into his own arms with infuriating ease. Of course it would be that easy for him.
Merlin gave him a cautiously grateful smile.
“Don’t look at me like that, it was only to make the walk minutely less pathetic to watch.” Arthur insisted, heaving the load up onto his shoulders and beginning the climb up towards the boat. Merlin nodded to himself. That seemed a tad more like the Arthur he knew.
Ignoring the pit in his stomach, Merlin followed at the prince’s heels and lugged the last several pounds of supplies aboard, pushing towards the center of the ship as the prince made his rounds and greeted the crew members warmly. The sky was devoid of clouds, and the sun beat down mercilessly onto the heads of the crew as they scurried about finishing their last minute preparations. Merlin might have been excited for his first look at the open ocean if he wasn’t so preoccupied with the notion that they were all going to die.
His shoulders were aching from the weight of the supplies.
“You can set those down right over there, thank you.”
A kind looking old man pointed across the deck and gave Merlin a warm smile. Merlin nodded his thanks, and plodded heavily towards the indicated spot.
Shoulder and legs aching, he dumped the supplies and straightened up. He knew he would not be spared from any more physical tasks simply if his legs hurt; Arthur wouldn’t take that as an excuse more than once.
A young boy appeared momentarily and whisked the sacks away to the lower deck, thanking Merlin profusely. Arthur soon joined him, dropped off his own share of supplies, and stood beside Merlin to lean over the railing. Arthur tilted his head slightly, smiling out at the perfectly calm sea.
“Beautiful day, isn’t it?”
Merlin didn’t answer, so Arthur went on.
“Did I hear that man say ‘Thank you?’ He’d better be careful with that; I can’t have you developing an ego.”
“Oh, of course not; nothing worse than a man with an ego, right?” Merlin snapped.
At this, Arthur frowned, and his teasing demeanor melted to what could have been interpreted as concern. He turned his head slightly, not quite looking at Merlin yet.
“Something’s bothering you, isn’t it?” He tried, all hints of derision leaving his voice.
“Oh, no, no. Nothing at all. This is a perfectly sane plan that has absolutely no flaws whatsoever.” Merlin drawled, not caring to hide his discontent any longer.
He thought he noticed Arthur deflate slightly, and a pang of guilt hit him.
“Sorry. It’s just that the sirens only target men.”
Arthur let out a short laugh.
“Glad to see you’ve finally caught up, Merlin.”
“You’re a man.”
“As are you, though I have my doubts when you insist on acting like a scared little girl all the time.”
Arthur was trying to ease his anxiety about the voyage by joking around; Merlin knew that. He tried to be grateful but couldn’t help feeling frustrated at the prince’s refusal to acknowledge the danger of the situation.
“We are ALL men.”
Arthur tightened his grip on the railing ever so slightly and sighed heavily. Merlin could tell he‘d been thinking the same thing. Arthur wasn’t stupid, despite his impressive capacity to act like it.
“We have a plan, and if we stick to it we will be fine. Your incessant worrying doesn’t do anyone any good.”
“The plan would be much simpler and waste less valuable resources if there were two or three women aboard.” Merlin pointed out.
“There will be at least one woman aboard.” Arthur said, a grin creeping onto his face.
“What?”
“You’re coming with us, aren’t you?”
Merlin fought the urge to throw him overboard.
“Stop acting as if you don’t know that this is a bad idea,” Merlin turned to face Arthur, staring him down. “Why not send a woman in my place at the very least?”
Arthur sighed.
“As fond as I was of the idea of replacing you,” he began. “I originally suggested an all female crew with the exception of myself and a few trusted soldiers, but my father wouldn’t hear of it.”
“Why would he refuse? That makes no sense; the presence of women has been a tradition for decades, and for good reason.”
To Merlin’s surprise, Arthur tensed and gripped the railing even tighter. His eyes narrowed.
“Neither you or I are in a place to criticize the King’s judgement,” he spat. “You’d do well to remember that.”
The sudden change in tone was not lost on Merlin. Arthur was hiding something from him, and it was something to do with Uther. Naturally, this intrigued Merlin, and he silently resolved to find out what it was at some point.
Racking his brain for a way to lighten the mood, Merlin settled on the usual: affectionate treason.
“You know, if the siren doesn’t kill you, I will.”
“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.” Arthur said, failing to keep the amusement out of his voice. Merlin chanced a look at him, and found the prince struggling to conceal a grin. Merlin smiled. Good.
They fell into an easy silence, looking out at the sea’s gentle waves lapping against the shore and brushing the side of the boat quietly. Eventually, Arthur spoke.
“I’ve never been on a boat before.”
A casual remark. Causal enough to signify that whatever had caused his icy attitude before was not personal. Almost an apology, by Arthur’s standards. Merlin was grateful for the reassurance, in any case.
“Really?” He replied. An acceptance of the apology.
“Really.”
Merlin thought for a moment.
“Are you nervous at all?”
“Merlin, we’ve been over this.”
“Not the siren. I mean the water.”
Arthur gave him an odd look.
“The water?”
“Yes.”
“You’re asking if I’m nervous about... the water?” He repeated slowly.
“I mean, sort of. There’s the vastness of the ocean, the possibility of getting lost, the threat of shipwreck, disease, unpleasant weather. There’s much more to fear on the open ocean than just a single siren.” Merlin pointed out.
“Incredible. Here I was thinking that your cowardice had reached its highest point, and you tell me you’re afraid of water.”
“Well, you can’t be blamed for the mistake; you’ve never been too good at thinking.”
Arthur glared.
“I should have you in the stocks for that one.”
“There’s no stocks on the boat.” Merlin pointed out helpfully.
“I can always wait until we get back.” Arthur pointed out unhelpfully.