Title: Travel Sized for Your Convenience
Author: Ultra-Geek/Ultrageekatlarge
Rating: K+
Disclaimer: I own nothing
Summary: Merlin gets cursed and shrunk down to only four inches tall. But the important bit to remember was that it was not Arthur's fault.
WARNINGS: Takes place after series 3 and before series 4
AN: Part of my 300 Followers Fic Fest. For an anon on tumblr who wanted pocket-size Merlin. Also I thought we all needed a break from the bleak world that is post-5x13 fanfiction and WHAT IS CUTER THAN A MERLIN YOU COULD LITERALLY KEEP IN YOUR POCKET.

Here's the thing.

The thing was this.

Merlin had gotten hit with a curse, and honestly, Arthur thought that he was fine. Merlin had insisted that he felt okay, if a little sore. Between the two of them they couldn't find anything wrong with him. Merlin claimed not to have any suicidal or homicidal or regicidal feelings or thoughts, and that was always a good thing when dealing with curses. He wasn't sprouting any animal ears or changing colors or turning to stone, and so they'd called it their lucky day and returned to Camelot.

But.

Later that evening, while Merlin was serving Arthur dinner, he had let out a muffled groan, doubled over, and disappeared completely. Arthur panicked, and actually vaulted over the table, and found nothing of Merlin but a pile of his empty clothes and the spilled wine pitcher.

For a moment the grief and fear was so thick, Arthur wasn't able to breathe right. "Merlin?" he said.

Of course, then he noticed the lump moving around in Merlin's shirt, and he pawed through the abandoned clothes until suddenly, a very tiny version of Merlin's dark head had appeared, blue eyes blinking and wide. He couldn't have stood more than four inches tall. Apparently, the curse had something of a delay that went along with it.

But this was the important bit to remember. It was not Arthur's fault.

"This is all your fault," Merlin said.

Merlin, apparently, disagreed. His clothes were far too large for him to wear, and so he had his neckerchief huddled about his shoulders. It trailed behind him like a royal train. Merlin glared at a sausage that was taller than he was.

"Isn't," said Arthur, and hoped that Gaius would return quickly. After Merlin had shrunk, he'd sent a servant running for the physician. Gaius had taken one look at Merlin, spent a moment sitting in a chair exclaiming his disbelief and lecturing the both of them. Then he'd gotten their account of what had happened, and gone to consult his books. That had been a good two hours previous.

"Is," said Merlin. "It'll be fine, you said. Don't worry about the reports of sorcerer bandits in the woods, you said. What could possibly go wrong, you said."

"It's not my fault you decided to jump in front of the curse," said Arthur.

"Well, I couldn't let you get hit, could I?" Merlin said.

"Of course you could have," said Arthur. "Your job is to polish my armor and bring me food, not to get in front of curses."

"A little too late for that," said Merlin, and then pointed a tiny, bony finger up at Arthur. "And, no, you do not get to blame this on the one who is shorter than your boot, Arthur, you don't."

Arthur would have pushed it, but Merlin's voice had gone all high and squeaky and cracking. The last thing they needed was for Merlin to work himself up into a miniature hysteria and swoon.

There was a knock. Arthur almost commanded Merlin to go an answer the door, firstly on reflex and secondly to see the look on his face. But then Gwen peeked around and said, "Is it alright if I come in?"

"Guinevere, of course," said Arthur. He set his empty goblet upside down over Merlin to hide him. The less people who knew, the better, Arthur figured. It would only serve to complicate things. "Please, come in."

"Gaius told me about Merlin," she said as she sat at the table, and untied a small pouch from her belt. She opened it and took out a tiny blue shirt, and a tiny pair of trousers, and even a tiny triangle of red cloth that Arthur suspected to be one of those dreadful neckerchiefs Merlin insisted on wearing. "Where is he? I've made him clothes."

"Thank God, I'm freezing," Merlin said . He heaved the goblet up and squeezed himself out from under it. He was still wearing the napkin like a robe.

As soon as Gwen's eyes landed on him, they crinkled with laughter. "Oh my goodness," she said, pressing a hand against her mouth to try and hide her smile. "You're precious!"

Merlin's face was the perfect picture of dismay, done in miniature.

"I'm sorry," she said, sounding as if Merlin had just chastised her. "It isn't funny. It's awful."

She was still laughing. Arthur said, "Don't be ridiculous. Of course it's funny. Look at him. I've seen bigger twigs."

"Hey," Merlin said. Gwen schooled her face into a more sympathetic expression. He gathered the clothes up to his chest and looked around. "Um," he said, "Where can I…?"

"Back under you go," said Arthur, lifting up the goblet again.

"I'm not going back under there," said Merlin. "It smells like wine."

"It's that or in front of Guinevere," said Arthur. Gwen shot him a disapproving look, but Merlin just stuck his nose into the air and stalked back beneath the cup to get dressed.

"You should be nicer to him," Gwen whispered, as soon as Arthur dropped the goblet to the table again. "It can't be easy, being so little."

"He's fine."

"Arthur, really, he's been enchanted," she said. Whatever merriment she had found in the situation was clearly gone. "He's probably frightened, and everything and everyone is so much larger than him right now. I know that I'd be terrified. You need to be more considerate."

"Yeah, Arthur," came Merlin's voice. "Be more considerate."

Gwen's cheeks went red. She clearly had been under the impression that Merlin couldn't hear her.

Arthur flicked the goblet, and there came a muffled yelp from beneath it. He looked back at Gwen to find her flat out glaring at him. "What?" he asked. "He'd be worried if I didn't treat him like this."

"It's true," Merlin said. He was holding the goblet up with one arm and his trousers with the other. Gwen reached out and picked up the cup, and Merlin gave her a smile. "These are brilliant," he said, "But the trousers are a little too large."

"I brought some twine, just in case," said Gwen. She fished into the pouch again until she had the string, and handed it to Merlin. He cinched it around his waist, and then grinned at her, and said, "Thank you. Really."

It was almost dawn when Gaius finally reappeared with a solution. Gwen had long since retired, and Arthur had fallen asleep on the table, his head pillowed on his folded arms. So when Gaius knocked, Arthur didn't hear. Merlin did, though, and proceeded to try and wake Arthur by poking at his face.

Arthur accidentally swatted him and sent him flying to the other side of the table just as Gaius came in. The physician rushed over. "You must be careful with him, Sire," Gaius chided, helping Merlin to stand with a single finger. "His bones are likely to break easier, small as they are. I don't know if I could mend him while he's cursed like this. Are you hurt, Merlin?"

"No, I'm fine," he said, rubbing at his head. "Just a little dazed is all."

"Sorry," said Arthur. Merlin looked surprised, and raised an eyebrow. Arthur rolled his eyes, and said, "Don't expect me to say it twice."

"I don't suppose that you'd be willing to give me a day off in order to –"

"No."

"Someday that's going to work," Merlin said. Then he looked to Gaius. "Did you find anything?"

"I did," said Gaius. He laid a book open on the table, and Merlin hauled himself up to sit on the edge of the pages as Gaius continued. "You'll have to find the sorcerer who placed the curse, I'm afraid, and get him to remove it."

"How the hell are we supposed to do that?" Arthur asked.

"Get tracking, I suppose," said Gaius. "But there's more."

"Of course there is," said Merlin.

"You must have the curse lifted by the next sundown or Merlin will be stuck this way."

Merlin sat down heavily. Arthur resisted the urge to slap himself in the forehead. "Well, then, we'd best head out at first light, hadn't we?" he said. Then, out of reflex, he started to order Merlin around. "Merlin, would you fetch –"

"I swear, Arthur, if you try to make me saddle your horse while I'm like this, I will poke holes in the bottoms of all of your boots, and you'll have wet feet for the rest of your life," said Merlin. Arthur didn't think he meant it. Mostly.

"Don't be ridiculous," said Arthur. "I'll…I'll have someone else gather the supplies and ready my horse."

Merlin rode in front of Arthur's saddle, his little hands wound tightly into the horse's mane. It was only when a squirrel unexpectedly darted in front of them and the horse startled that Merlin gave a muffled yell and was suddenly not there anymore, for he was sent soaring away into the undergrowth.

Arthur froze, and every time a hoof landed on the path Arthur's heart skipped a beat. Merlin could so easily get crushed in his current state, or carried off by a hawk, or eaten by a snake…really, they hadn't thought this whole thing through. But what other choice was there?

"Merlin?" Arthur called. He carefully dismounted and almost had a heart attack when his foot landed on a stick and snapped it. "Merlin!"

"Here," said Merlin's voice, much smaller than Arthur was accustomed to. He supposed Merlin had to be shouting to be heard. Arthur searched the ground until he found Merlin, sitting in a mud puddle and looking perfectly miserable.

"For the love of God, Merlin," Arthur said, scooping him up in his palms. "Are you alright?"

Merlin, shivering and covered with mud, nodded. The tips of his still ridiculous ears were red. Arthur just shook his head and deposited Merlin onto the saddle. Arthur dug in a saddle bag until he was able to pull out the edge of a blanket. He cut two swatches from it with a knife.

He handed Merlin one, and said, "Dry yourself off."

"Thank you," Merlin said. He wiped off the mud, but even once must of the muck was gone, he still looked cold and glum.

"Now this one," said Arthur, handing him the larger rectangle of blanket.

Merlin pulled it around his shoulders. Arthur waited until he had himself well and truly swaddled to pick him up by the scruff of his neck. Merlin squawked and tried to wave his arms, his attempts hindered by the blanket wrapped so tightly around him. "Hey! What're you doing?" he cried out. "Arthur, put me down!"

Arthur dropped Merlin into his front coat pocket. He had forgone his armor in order to wear a thick coat against the chill of autumn. "There," said Arthur. "Is that better? Should keep you warm."

Merlin was quiet. Then, from the pocket, a very grudging, "Yes," emerged. Arthur did his best not to laugh. It didn't work very well. There was a sharp poke that was, he assumed, Merlin trying to kick him.

"Hey, watch it, you," said Arthur. "Don't think I won't make you ride in a saddle bag."

Merlin's head poked out. "You wouldn't dare."

"Try me."

"I'd tell Gaius on you."

"I think he would sympathize with me," said Arthur. "You're very annoying."

Merlin huffed, and didn't answer. Arthur grinned, and mounted back on his horse.

"Now," he said, reining the beast in and continuing down the trail. "Try not to fall out again. If you land in the some tall grass I may never find you again."

As they rode, Arthur could feel as Merlin's shivering finally stopped. It didn't make the prince smile. No. Not even a little.

Eventually, they came to the clearing where Merlin had initially been cursed. "Something's not right," Merlin said, peeking out of the top of Arthur's pocket. He had to haul himself by his hands in order to see out.

Arthur agreed, but there was no way he could tell Merlin that. Instead, he said, "You're paranoid. Let's just find the trail, yeah?"

"Yeah," said Merlin, still looking around. "Still. I think something's wrong."

That something made itself apparent not a moment later.

"Back for more, eh?" said a voice. Arthur whirled, and found himself face to face with the sorcerer. The man lifted his hand, shouted a word, and Arthur flew backwards to smack his head on the ground. Everything went blurry and distant, and he couldn't gather his wits about him. Distantly, he felt Merlin scramble out of his pocket.

Idiot. What was he doing?

"Do you know who I am?" Merlin's small voice was saying when Arthur gathered his wits about him again.

"An insignificant servant," said the sorcerer. "Your size now reflects your lot in life. Aren't you precious?"

"No," said Merlin. "My name is Emrys. And I assure you, I am anything but precious."

It was silent. The sorcerer broke it first, and it was to say, "No."

"Yes," Merlin answered.

"Oh, God," said the sorcerer. Arthur staggered to his feet just in time for the sorcerer to say, "I'm terribly sorry, terribly sorry, really, if I had known I would never have –"

"Just take it off and we'll call it even," said Merlin. Arthur was impressed at how steady, how commanding his voice sounded.

"Yes, of course, of – here!" said the sorcerer. And then there was the mumbling of a spell, and a flash of light accompanied by a gust of air that sent Arthur flat on his back again. When he got to his feet, it was to find Merlin's normal looking head peering at him from in a bush.

"Where did the sorcerer go?" Arthur asked.

"Not sure," said Merlin. "There was the light and then I was big and he was gone."

"Oh," said Arthur. He wanted to give chase, but he supposed that the man had returned Merlin to his usual state. Besides, he had other concerns. "Why did you say your name was Emrys?"

Merlin paused for a moment, his face still. "Gaius mentioned him, once. From a Druid legend. Apparently he's to be the most powerful sorcerer to ever live," he said. "I, uh. I didn't think you'd hear that. I thought you'd been knocked out."

Arthur hummed. "So you bluffed. I'm impressed," he said, and then laughed. "And to think, he was actually frightened of you. You! When you were but four inches tall!"

"Yeah," said Merlin. He sounded and looked very sad for a moment, and Arthur couldn't place why. After all, he was no longer pocket sized.

"Come out of there so we can go home," Arthur said. Merlin shifted slightly behind the bushes.

"Er," said Merlin, "I don't have any clothes. The ones I had on sort of shredded. D'you think you could get me something or…?"

Arthur sighed, and went back to the horse to fetch a blanket. Honestly. The things he had to put up with…