In which Arthur's room is overrun by gremlins so he and Merlin declare war.
Arthur muttered angrily under his breath as he stormed into Gaius’s workshop.
“Where is he?” He demanded, referring to Merlin.
“In there.” Gaius said, wondering why Arthur looked so vicious but pointing towards the stairs that led to Merlin’s room anyway.
Arthur thundered up the stairs and through the door to find Merlin cross-legged on the bed and delved in a large book. Merlin slammed the book shut immediately and tried to look innocent. Unbeknownst to Arthur the book was of course his magical one.
Thankfully Arthur ignored it.
“Do you know what’s in my chambers?” The prince yelled aggressively, grabbing Merlin’s arm and dragging him back through the door.
“Umm…no.” Merlin squeaked.
“Well, neither do I but they’re not pleasant!”
“What do you mean?” Merlin asked but Arthur just began to rant.
“They’ve stolen my sword, armour, keys, one of my shoes, all my socks and even the bathtub for crying out loud! Who knows what they’re gonna take next?” Arthur raved, more to himself than Merlin.
“Who?” Merlin cried as he was dragged roughly around yet another corner.
“Gremlins? Imps? Goblins? I haven’t a clue! All I know is they’re wrecking my room!”
By this time they had reached the door to Arthur’s chambers.
There were a good deal of crashing; banging and smashing coming from inside and the door would jolt every so often as though a heavy object was being thrown at it. Feathers spewed out from the crack between the door and the floor, as did a few tatters of what once may have been a pillow.
Arthur flung open the door to reveal his room in chaos. Hundreds, if not thousands, of tiny foot high goblins were darting around the place, swinging on curtains, tearing up blankets, gnawing on chairs and shredding pillows, which was clearly the cause of the feathers that were flying around in the air along with a white dust that made Merlin sneeze.
“Where’d they come from?” Merlin shouted over the clamour of the giggling gremlins, poking his head around the doorframe.
“You tell me!” Arthur replied callously.
Merlin had no time to, however, as they both had to duck as a chandelier suddenly shot through the door and splintered on the opposite wall.
“Get rid of them!” Arthur yelled.
“Wha-“ Merlin began with nothing short of horror but was cut off as Arthur shunted him into the riot and slammed the door shut behind him.
Silence suddenly overcame the room and all the gremlin’s small ugly green heads turned to the intruder that, unfortunately for him, was Merlin. A thousand huge yellow orbs stared at the young warlock unblinkingly as Merlin slowly drifted his eyes over the sea of faces, swallowing a lump in his throat and wishing he were anywhere but amongst the gremlins that clearly had it in for him.
The silence was gone in a split second and suddenly all the creatures were upon him.
Arthur flinched every time a particularly loud yelp or thud issued from behind the door. He was beginning to wonder if he had sent Merlin to his death.
Suddenly there was a desperate pounding on the door and a shout of some kind, perhaps a plea to open the door and stop being such a prat.
Arthur unlocked the door and Merlin fell out, his clothes tatters. He crawled from the door as Arthur slammed it shut again, cries of outrage coming from the goblins behind it.
“Are you alright?” The prince asked, ramming his back into the door to stop the gremlins from escaping.
“Yeah.” Merlin said, “Wait…” He stopped and put a hand up to his neck, “THEY’VE GOT MY SCARF!!!!!!”
Merlin had to be restrained as he tried to leap back into the room and beat the living daylights out of the gremlins, which were indeed his hell bent intentions.
“Whoa, calm down! There’s gotta be a better way to get rid of them.” Arthur said, thinking rationally and staring at the ceiling as through the answer was hidden there and easily keeping the livid Merlin from going into the room.
“What do you mean?” Merlin said, glaring at the door with a look that could kill.
“Maybe Gaius knows.” Arthur said.
It turned out he did so when Arthur and a slightly calmer Merlin returned to the door, wearing overly sized protective helmets and each brandishing a spray gun filled with a violent orange liquid they were quite prepaid for the diabolical inhabitants of Arthur’s room.
“Are these necessary?” Merlin grumbled, plucked crossly the itchy strap around his chin.
“Stop griping! We’ve got work to do.” Arthur said, edging towards the door and holding his gun up on his shoulder.
Screeches of glee and mischief still sounded from inside the room and Arthur dreaded to think what kind of a state it would be in when he opened the door. The deed had to be done though so he motioned for Merlin to get ready on the other side of the door and apprehensively reached for the doorknob.
He turned it and the handle clicked slightly. Immediately the ruckus inside evaporated and a few hushed whisperings could be heard.
“When I say three, we go.” Arthur hissed to Merlin who nodded, eyes wide.
There was a short pause in which the gremlins, judging by a few scuffling sounds and quiet mutterings, were getting ready for an ambush of sorts.
“One…” Arthur began to count, “Two…two and a half…three!”
They kicked open the doors and leapt in, Merlin declaring something about war and how however took his scarf was going to pay dearly.
Arthur kicked a horde of gremlins and sprayed them with the orange liquid as they flew at him like a living wave of small green (not to mention smelly) men. Merlin battled fiercely with one of the imps, playing tug of war with his scarf.
They were hopelessly outnumbered and soon they were both overpowered and at the mercy of the goblins, each tied to a bedpost by what could no longer be called curtains.
“Do you surrender?” One of the goblins asked, tying Merlin scarf around its horrid little neck and dancing in front of the two captives victoriously.
“Never!” Arthur spat.
The gremlin giggled and motioned for its fellow goblins to join it in a group huddle, where they began to discus something that nether Merlin or Arthur could hear.
A few giggles later the group broke apart, revealing a goblin, a pot of ink and Merlin’s beloved scarf.
Merlin guessed what they were going to do.
“If a single spot of ink touches that scarf I’ll string you up by what you hold most dear!” He growled.
The gremlin ignored him but the rest of the crowd ‘ooooooh’ed annoyingly. He dramatically removed the lid to the inkpot and held it over the scarf, letting the suspense thicken.
“I really wouldn’t if I were you.” Arthur warned the goblin, glancing at Merlin’s face that looked none other than savage.
Once again the gremlin ignored the warning and gently, almost lovingly, poured the dark black ink all over the red neckerchief.
It was ruined.
Arthur watched with fascination as Merlin’s face contorted into that of a savage beast. He appeared to be undergoing an ‘incredible hulk’ transformation, growing and growing until the curtains binding him to the bedpost snapped and he was free.
The goblins scattered in terror as he leapt into the fray and grabbed the goblin that had destroyed his scarf.
The following scene has been removed due to inappropriate behaviour, including a goblin, what it held most dear and an extremely angry Merlin. You should feel lucky. Poor Arthur had to endure the whole thing.