A/N: Hello! It's been a while since I've posted something in this website, mostly due to school. Anyway, the only reason I'm posting a new story is because I've already finished all the chapters of Albion: Series 1, and I will be posting one chapter per week. And I'll try to update my other stories while I do so. Albion is a bit like Unearthly: basically, most of the stories are my own, but I will "rewrite" season finales — and premieres on occasion — if they are important to the overall story-arch of the season, or I will simply change things if I feel like it. The episodes from the show will still have happened, but I won't rewrite them all, manly because they end with the same result. I hope you like it!

Cantre'r Gwaelod

"Here and there they are seen swimming in the vast flood."
—Virgil.

Amena.

Camelot.

That was her destination. The young woman hadn't been there in a while — years, in fact. It's not like her kingdom and Camelot were very close. Supposedly, that would change. Her brother, king Caedmon, was rather hoping a union between Deira and Camelot might form. Amena had a few ideas of what her brother might've been implying in their conversation on the subject — one that had taken place a few days ago.

Camelot came into view. She wanted to stop, and just look at it from afar. She had no idea what would happen in her future, whether she'd stay at Camelot for too long, or for a rather short period of time. Or if she simply would never leave. She didn't know what would happen, and she needed to calm down. Otherwise, it — whatever "it" proved to be — would probably end horribly.

Instead of halting, she took a deep breath, and focused on getting there. Of what use worrying about the future would be, if one did not focus on the present? After all, the present forms the future. The travelling continued, they would arrive near sundown. By then, Amena would go back to her role as princess of Deira, and that nervous, anxious feeling that was currently consuming her would fade away, to be replaced by a sense of responsibility.

Niamh.

Waking up wasn't Niamh's favourite part of the day. The brunette was usually exhausted, and too lazy to get up, the dream realm calling her every time she regained consciousness.

In other words: Niamh wasn't a morning person.

She dragged herself out of bed and got ready for this new day, leaving her room when she was ready. The current problem was on her mind once more. There was a strange illness going around, that had already killed a couple of people. It would not be a big priority if it were not for the similarities between this case and a previous one they'd got, about the Afanc. Similar symptoms between the victims, extremely contagious, and lethal.

As soon as she got to Gaius' chambers, Niamh wished she'd never got out of bed that morning.

"Gaius, what happened?" The young woman rushed to his side, not even bothering to properly greet him. Merlin was lying on one of the tables, shivering. His skin was burning hot, and was mumbling incomprehensible words — no, they were not incomprehensible. If she concentrated on them, Niamh could recognise spells.

"I believe Merlin has caught the illness." Gaius sounded grim, and with good reason. They didn't know much about what the symptoms the victim had while he was suffering, they'd just learnt of this illness after seeing the victims dead, but the little they'd gathered was that it looked like a regular flu, except maybe with a bigger magnitude and potentially — if not definitely — lethal. Fever and shivering were not out of the option.

"How do you know that's what it is? It could be something else, right?" Niamh hoped it was, but something told her Merlin had indeed caught the illness.

That was when Gaius showed her the decisive factor. He showed her Merlin's right hand. In the centre of the palm, there were seven black concentric circles.

On the victims they'd found, the hand would be filled with a different number of black concentric circles. After a few inquiries, Gaius got to the conclusion that it meant the number of days the person would survive after catching the illness.

"How did he get infected?" she asked. "It could not have been contact, we already ruled that out."

"I'm not sure; there are many options we haven't considered yet," Gaius answered.

"All right, but how come only a few of them are infected? If this is as contagious as we think, how come many seem to be immune to it?"

Just then, one of Gaius' flasks exploded, making both of them jump. "It's Merlin," Gaius noticed. "His magic is out of control."

"Is there any way to cure this?" Niamh asked her mentor.

Gaius pointed at a book on the table. "I was studying it before Merlin collapsed. It looks a lot like an illness I've read about before—"

"And you didn't mention it?"

"You must understand, Niamh, this is a mythical illness." The physician approached the open book. "It says here that this specific illness was used by evil sorcerers against a small community of druids. The illness could only affect those who possessed or had learnt magic. The evil sorcerers caught the illness they'd released, and the druids found a way to cure it, after a few of them had died."

"Does it say how they did it?"

"A potion. There's a list of ingredients and a spell…" Gaius trailed off.

"But?"

"I'm missing one ingredient. Bearberry."

"Well, I'll go get it. Where can I find it?"

"The city of Cantre'r Gwaelod," Gaius answered. "It's a few days' journey from here."

A few. That meant there might not be enough time to get some and get back in time to save Merlin. But there also might be enough time for her to come back, as improbable as it seemed. Niamh had to try.

"I'll be right back," she excused herself.

"Niamh," Gaius called out. She turned around. "We still have no idea how this illness spreads."

"Be careful, got it," she completed, and exited the room in hurry.

Amena.

It was morning. Amena usually enjoyed waking up in the morning, with the bright sunlight, but today was different. When she woke up, simply looking at her surroundings reminded her of her duties.

Her newly assigned maid entered the room to wake her up — only to find the princess already awake. After breakfast, a bath, and help with the dress's fastening, Amena was ready to go out amongst the people of Camelot.

She was leaving the castle, entering the citadel, when she saw Arthur, who seemed to be on his way to talk to her. Amena didn't exactly want to speak with the prince of Camelot, who seemed to be an arrogant idiot, but prepared herself to do so anyway. And then a girl arrived. She looked a bit younger than Amena herself. The woman had brown hair, tied up in a bun, and blue eyes, one of them slightly covered by a sideways fringe. There was a strange expression on her face. It was worry, fear and anxiety. After a few words, the same expression appeared on Arthur's face, even though he tried to conceal it.

Driven by curiosity, the blonde approached the couple.

"—and he will die, unless we get the last ingredient," the girl was finishing.

"I can't just leave Camelot," he told her. "This is a long journey, even by horse. There's no guarantee that we might make it back in time."

"Isn't it worth a try? Or would you rather just, let him die," she had to force the last words out, as if she didn't want to even think of the possibility that it might happen.

Arthur was about to answer, but noticed Amena, and his eyes widened in surprise. "Princess Amena."

The girl noticed Amena as well, and while she was as surprised as Arthur, maybe even more, she took a bit longer to greet her than Arthur had. "My Lady." She bowed awkwardly.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't help but catch a few words of your conversation. Is a friend of yours sick?" she asked.

"Yes, Merlin. He's my manservant and one of our Court Physician, Gaius's, wards," Arthur answered.

Amena nodded. "What's your name?" she asked the young woman.

"Niamh, my Lady. I'm Gaius' other ward."

"And you're missing an ingredient for this remedy?"

"Bearberry, my Lady," Niamh answered. "It can only be found in the city of Cantre'r Gwaelod, but—" The woman didn't get to finish her sentence, however, as she suddenly collapsed. Arthur and Amena exchanged surprised and worried glances.

In Gaius's quarters, the physician was explaining the situation.

"They are down with the sickness. They've barely got a few days to live."

"And you need that bearberry plant, yes?" Amena asked. "I know how we can get to Cantre'r Gwaelod in three days at most, I've been there before."

"Do you know where the plant grows?"

"No, but a local could help me find it," the blonde proposed.

"Hold on," Arthur interrupted. "I cannot let you go on this journey."

"Why not? These people will die unless we do something. I can help them," she assured him.

Arthur hesitated, considering his options. "Then I'll go with you."

"I thought you couldn't 'just leave Camelot'," she quoted his earlier words.

"Well, you're not giving me much of a choice, are you?"

On the contrary, I'm giving you many. You just made it your job to be my bodyguard, it seems, Amena thought, but nodded instead. "Very well. When do we leave?"

"In an hour."

Arthur.

The ride to Cantre'r Gwaelod was a long and difficult one. While the way Amena indicated seemed to be a good shortcut, it was also a difficult one. It was difficult to ride through it — though not impossible — and they found obstacle after obstacle.

"Are you sure you've been this way before?" he asked her.

"Positive."

"And was it always this difficult?"

"Yes."

She gave him no explanation and her words seemed to hint that she wouldn't give him more information even if he asked, so the prince shut up about it and continued.

The sun was setting on the horizon, and Arthur knew they would need to find a place to camp for the night. Amena didn't show any signs of slowing down, though, and he had to remind her that they could not travel at night. He was right of course, and with great reluctance — Arthur could see it on her face — Amena stopped when Arthur told her to, and they both set up camp as quickly as they could — well, Arthur did most of the job, since Amena wasn't quite used to sleeping in the wilderness. She probably hadn't made her first journey through Cantre'r Gwaelod alone in the first place.

Arthur looked around at the ubiquitous trees, before sitting down in front of the fire. Amena was sitting on the other side of it, the flames illuminating her face, tinting it orange.

"When did you come to Cantre'r Gwaelod?" Arthur asked, hoping to get some answers for the questions he'd asked himself since the beginning of their trip.

"It was a while ago. My father wanted my brother and I to know every kingdom nearby, but we were in a hurry and had to go back to Deira immediately. Passing through here was the fastest way to go." She didn't say why they had to go back in a hurry, and Arthur didn't ask.

The prince simply nodded. After a few other attempts at a conversation, Amena went to sleep while Arthur stayed awake. If there were any bandits around — which could definitely happen — then he wanted to be ready for them, not to be caught off guard. He stared into the fire, losing himself in his thoughts as he waited for the first lights of dawn.

He woke up to someone shaking him. Disoriented, as most people tend to be when awoken, he remembered where he was and what he was supposed to be doing, and silently cursed himself as he forced his eyes open, still half asleep.

Amena was the one shaking him up. The first traces of dawn were appearing in the still dark sky, and Arthur knew they had one day less to get to Cantre'r Gwaelod and find the plant. They would arrive to the city in a day or two, if there were no inconveniences or too many obstacles along the way.

They hadn't been robbed either, which could've been a massive problem, and it would've been on his head. He was the one who had fallen asleep when he shouldn't have. The prince pushed those thoughts away from his head and ate the food Amena was handing him. Apparently she'd been speaking for a while now. What had she been saying?

"You're not listening to a word I'm saying, are you?" she asked, as if reading his mind.

"Sorry. I'm having a harder time waking up than usual."

"Right, well, as I was saying, you might want to eat that quickly. If we continue at the same speed we travelled yesterday, then we'll probably get there by sundown."

Arthur did as he was told.

Gaius.

The physician glanced at his apprentices while preparing Morgana's sleeping draught. The woman's nightmares were getting worse, and while it should worry him, he didn't think he could feel even more worried. Both his wards had caught a mythical illness which no one knew about — and good thing too. If word got out, they would die, whether by hands of the illness or of an executioner.

Merlin was getting worse, but he was fighting back, the same way he'd fought off the poison from Nimueh's cup. Niamh, however, wasn't that resistant, it seemed. While she'd succumbed to the effects of the illness several hours later, her symptoms were worsening, almost catching up to Merlin's. If he looked at the palm of her hand, it had one circle less than Merlin's.

Gaius prayed Princess Amena and Prince Arthur came back in time. He wasn't sure he could handle losing the two people who were like children to him. So Gaius prayed, to both the Old and New Religion, that everything would be all right in the end.

A knock on the door pulled him away from his thoughts, and he turned to Gwen to give her the draught that Morgana seemed to need so badly.

Amena.

Her calculations had been right.

After a long day of riding, making as little pauses as they could, Arthur and Amena arrived at the gates of Cantre'r Gwaelod. Good thing too. A storm was blowing from the south west. The spring tide clashed against the sea walls, and for a moment, Amena let herself be distracted by the beautiful landscape, one that couldn't be found in either Deira or Camelot. Then she reminded herself of why they were there.

After finding some stables where to leave their horses, Arthur and Amena both went on their search for the plant they were seeking so badly. Not knowing where to ask, they approached the nearest building to the stables, a tavern of some sort. A red-haired woman was exiting said tavern, a look of amusement and annoyance crossing her face.

"Excuse me," Amena called out. Looking towards the source of the sound, the redhead was surprised to find out that the two blond strangers were actually walking towards her.

"Yes?"

"My name's Amena, and this is Arthur." She avoided saying they were royalty. She found out people were more inclined to help you good-naturedly if they didn't feel inferior to you. That was also the reason she'd picked one of her dresses that was decent enough without revealing her royal blood. "We're looking for a plant called bearberry. Our friends are dying and that plant is the only thing that can save them. Have you got any idea where in the city we could find it?"

The woman analysed her, her green eyes bearing deep into her, but Amena stood her ground. After all, she wasn't lying about anything. She was only omitting the fact that they were royalty, which wasn't even relevant in the first place. What was relevant was the plant, and the people they were trying to save, nothing else. She prayed the woman would be one of those kind souls who were willing to help strangers out.

Finally, the redhead made up her mind. "All right, I'll take you where you need to go. Wait out here, I'm going to tell my friend I'll be gone for a bit." She paused, however, before going back into the tavern. "My name is Edana."

"Nice to meet you, Edana. Thank you very much." The blonde smiled gratefully, and the green-eyed woman nodded back before disappearing into the establishment.

"How do you know we can trust her?" Arthur asked her as soon as Edana was out of sight, clearly sceptical of the woman. "Why couldn't she just give us directions?"

"It's going to be all right," Amena told him, but couldn't add anything else, for the redhead came out again.

"All right. Follow me, then. The sooner we finish this, the better." She did not elaborate and neither Amena nor Arthur asked why she thought so. Besides, they both agreed with that statement, probably more than Edana meant it in the first place.

They followed her through the streets in silence, passing people who, like them, seemed to be in a hurry. Edana looked up at the sky, a thoughtful look on her face. It was probably because of the storm, Amena thought. They continued their walk in silence, taking slightly suspicious turns, and ending up in a worn-down house, that would've looked deserted, were it not for a small light seen through the windows.

Edana walked to the entrance, opened the door and went through, without checking if the blondes were still following her. Arthur and Amena exchanged a look, before entering as well.

"I told you never to come back here," the owner of the place was fuming.

"Trust me, I wouldn't have come back if I didn't have to," she then turned to Amena and motioned her to explain. "Go on, before he throws us out." The princess explained the issue, and the keeper of the herbs shop scrutinised them before nodding. In the back of her head, she wondered why Edana hadn't just led them there and then gone back to the tavern. After all, she seemed reluctant to be in the shop in the first place.

"I hope you've got enough money to pay."

Arthur took out a small pouch with gold coins and thew it on the table. "Is this enough?"

It seemed to please the man, who smiled in greed before taking the pouch, placing it with all the money he had got from his daily sales. Then, he picked up a few herbs and handed them to Arthur.

"Hold on," Edana said when the prince was about to take them. "That's not bearberry." The redhead glared at the shopkeeper.

"What would you know?" he hissed.

"Well, I must know something, otherwise you wouldn't have offered me a job here," she snapped.

"Please," Amena intervened, "if you could just give us the plant—"

"You come here and threaten me in my own shop, why would I do that?" The man narrowed his eyes at her. When had they threatened him? Amena had no idea, but it was irrelevant now that the words had been spoken.

"Because we're prepared to pay the double." It was Amena's turn to take out a small pouch, but she kept it in her hand. The meaning of it was very simple: he gave them the herbs they needed and the gold would be his. She wasn't about to make the same mistake twice in a row, after all.

Muttering something unintelligible under his breath, the shopkeeper sought out a few herbs in the backroom, showed it to the three of them, and once Edana had nodded, he put it in a small bag, throwing it at the blond prince. Amena placed her pouch on the table.

"Thank you for your help," she told him. They left the shop without causing another problem, though the shopkeeper did seem to be muttering unpleasant names under his breath.

Arthur.

It was nighttime when they were back on the streets, and there was nobody out there, save for a few people who were quite obviously drunk and on their way back home from the tavern. The redhead, Edana, seemed in a hurry to return to her friend as well, who was supposedly back at the tavern.

The storm had worsened, making the spring tide collide strongly against the sea walls, repeatedly. "Hopefully Seithennin isn't the appointed watchman tonight," the redhead commented.

"Why?" Arthur asked.

"Because he probably hasn't noticed the storm and will be at the tavern, as usual. Someone's got to shut the gates to avoid flooding the land."

They all hurried up to the tavern — it was more of an inn, actually —, Arthur and Amena exchanging looks. They saw Edana go and talk to some of the men while Arthur paid for a room for him and Amena. Usually, he would've gone for two, but the innkeeper insisted he only had one left, and Amena assured him she would rather share a room with him than spend the night in the woods, though she didn't look so sure.

Then one of the men passed out, and they saw Edana running out of the tavern. After exchanging another look, Arthur started following her. "Stay here," he added when he saw Amena coming along.

"No chance," she replied. It was strange, because she didn't strike Arthur as someone who went on many adventures or craved them. He wanted to insist, but by that time, they were losing sight of Edana, so he just hurried up to catch up with the redhead. "Where are you going?" Amena asked, catching up as well.

"I'm going to shut the gates."

"I thought there was a watchman for that," Arthur commented.

"He's busy getting drunk in the tavern. He hasn't even noticed the storm."

"Didn't you tell him?" the prince asked.

Edana scoffed. "You try telling a drunk man of his responsibilities." The blond had to admit she had a point.

They all stopped, and the redhead took a left turn, before ending up with a sword pointed at her chest. Arthur immediately took out his sword to point it at the stranger.

"Who are you?" he demanded.

"Someone who wants to see this city drown." It was a man's voice, it seemed. He moved his sword brusquely, and him and Arthur were soon engaged in a sword fight. Arthur wasn't paying much attention to the girls, but he heard Edana mumble something, followed by some swear words, and soon, the redhead hit the man in the head with a wooden plank she'd found God knows where. The man dropped to the ground, unconscious or dead. Arthur didn't bother to check. The redhead took of the hood, and her eyes widened in surprised.

"It can't be," she mumbled.

"Do you know him?" Amena asked. Arthur had almost forgotten she was there as well.

"He threatened the city days ago, but nobody paid him any attention. They thought he was bonkers," she explained. "His friends must be here as well, guarding the gates." She sighed, irritated. "Why did I leave my sword behind?" she muttered under her breath. "Haven't got time to go back."

"Here." Amena handed her a dagger. "You seem to be a better fighter than I am," she admitted.

"Thanks." She got a look at the blade, then glanced at Arthur's. The redhead seemed about to ask a question, but instead shook her head slightly. "There's not enough time."

"What?" Arthur asked.

"Let's say I went off in there," she started, but Arthur interrupted her.

"We."

She nodded. "Let's say we went off in there. If we don't make it in time to shut the gates, the city will be flooded. We need to evacuate it."

"Leave that to me," Amena told them. "I'll come back here as soon as I can." She started to run off, but Arthur stopped her.

"Be careful."

"You too," she told him, before actually leaving this time.

"Well, then, Prince Arthur, let's go shut the gates." Edana ran off in the right direction. Arthur stood there, bewildered, before taking off after her.

Amena.

Amena knew her dress wasn't exactly the best, but she managed to get back to the stables where her and Arthur's horses were, and she took out her seal. If anything could convince the Lords of this place that she was of royal blood, that was it. She then took off towards the castle nearby. The guards didn't let her in until she showed them the seal.

Soon, she had them all convinced that they had to evacuate the land, but the royalty seemed obsessed with escaping and leaving the villagers behind. This led to Amena using her diplomatic abilities to convince them to send some knights to evacuate the town. Satisfied with her work, she went back to the stables, grabbed a crossbow she'd seen in Arthur's pack somewhere, and the sword she'd brought for herself just in case. Then she took off, back to the gates. She hoped she wasn't too late.

Arthur.

Arthur had assumed there would be around four or five people, but there turned out to be at least a dozen — and that was at first, but then even more showed up. However, while some were skilled with a sword, some were not. He went past the first line with no problem, even in the narrow passageway. Edana was right behind him. He had to admit the woman had some fighting skills, even with only a dagger as a weapon.

He didn't know for how long the fighting continued, but he had a feeling it was a long bit, especially because it had taken them at least ten minutes to arrive at the place he was at now. These so-called friends of the other bloke seemed to be fighting for revenge, as if that was their priority, and not drowning the village. They must've known they'd killed the other man, and as far as Arthur knew, the thirst of revenge was a pretty powerful motivator.

The prince was surrounded by at least four guys. Two of them, he defeated easily enough, but while fighting with the other two, he ended up in a bit of trouble. He probably would've died, to be honest. He was disarmed, by one, and about to be killed by the other when he fell to the ground, dead, revealing his killer. Edana. Arthur took advantage of that and got his sword back quickly, killing the other man in the process.

"Thank you."

"Don't mention it."

The fighting continued. They were fighting against the last men. Arthur turned around, to keep walking, but one of the guys was right in front of him, about to slice him through with his sword.

"Duck!" he heard someone shout, and he did it immediately. An arrow pierced through the man that was about to kill him, and Arthur turned back to see who had shot the arrow that had saved his life. It turned out Amena was there, holding a crossbow. She picked up something from the ground — a sword — and threw it at Edana's waiting hand.

"Finally!" The redhead smiled. She used the dagger to stop her rival's sword and the sword to run them through, sometimes switching, and quickly defeated all the opponents around her. Arthur did the same — except his only weapon was a sword — and Amena shot down anyone who attempted to get close to her.

By the time the three of them made their way to the gate, however, it was in vain. The sea hadn't rushed in yet, but it was impossible to shut the gates. The criminals had made it so, using powerful, lasting magic. Arthur didn't understand the specifics, but he knew magic when he saw it, and this just confirmed his belief that magic was evil.

"We need to get out of here," Edana said. "There's no use in trying to shut it down, and we'll drown if we don't leave now." She gave the sword and the dagger back to Amena. "Thank you for that."

"Thank you, for everything," Amena told her.

"It was nice to meet you, Prince Arthur, Princess Amena. If we meet again, hopefully it won't be under these circumstances." The redhead quickly ran off, probably to get that friend she'd mentioned earlier.

"What about the people?" Arthur asked.

"They're leaving as well, I took care of it."

The prince nodded, and both of them ran off as well, going back to the stables to get their horses.

They passed by the last of the people running for their safety, with knights pushing them along. They started pushing the two blondes along as well.

Soon, they were on their horses, galloping out of Cantre'r Gwaelod and on their way back to Camelot.

Gaius.

The physician was worried. He didn't sleep the night before, knowing the week was ending. His wards looked much worse. He had to place them both in Merlin's room, seeing as their magic got out of control even more frequently than it used to when they'd first got sick, and if anyone entered — well, the three of them would be executed, his wards for possessing magic, and Gaius for harbouring not one, but two sorcerers. And while he did care for his life, he didn't want to see neither Niamh nor Merlin executed.

He heard footsteps on the hall as he prepared Uther's daily draught for his shoulder wound, sure it would be Gwen asking for Morgana's draught or anyone else who required a remedy. Yet, to his delight, it was Arthur and Amena. The princess handed him the little bag with the herbs. Gaius opened it.

"Is that enough?" she asked.

The physician nodded. "Yes, I believe so." He felt relieved, but he needed them to go. He couldn't let them see in case their magic was out of control again. He handed Uther's draught to Arthur. "If you could give this to your father while I prepare the antidote, sire."

"Right." Arthur took it, and then left the room. Gaius started preparing the antidote, as he'd said.

"Do you need any help?" Amena asked.

"No, that's all right. Although, I should thank you." Amena left him to his work.

Merlin.

Merlin was the first one to wake up.

His eyes fluttered open and the first thing he noticed was the ceiling of his bedroom. The last thing he remembered, however, was entering Gaius' chambers after Arthur had gone to sleep, and fainting. The second thing he noticed was the fact that he was in a makeshift mattress in the floor of his room.

The warlock sat up quickly, which only brought him a bad headache. He then noticed how badly his back — no, wait, his entire body hurt. He rubbed his eyes and looked over at his bed, curious as to who was sleeping in there.

It was Niamh. Merlin, worried, looked at the woman's right hand. Six black circles were in the centre of it. His worry increased, and he was frozen in place, unable to look anywhere else, or move away. As he kept on looking, he noticed the circles fading. Surely that meant she'd been given an antidote? Merlin stood up and headed for the door. He was about to open it when he noticed something in his right hand: seven concentric circles, which were also fading. Did that mean…?

He opened the door, only to see Gaius preparing more draughts for who knows what clients.

"Gaius," Merlin spoke up. His voice sounded strange, probably because of the lack of use.

"Merlin!" Gaius looked up from his work, looking and sounding relieved. Next thing he knew, they were both hugging.

"What happened?" he asked.

The physician told him everything he knew. "But Merlin, you should ask Arthur and Princess Amena. They're the ones who travelled all the way to Cantre'r Gwaelod to save you."

"I should thank them," Merlin commented absent-mindedly, glancing at the door where Niamh was sleeping.

"Here, Merlin." Gaius was handing him a glass of water and a sandwich. "Eat up." And Merlin did. Then he took another glass of water and another sandwich back to his room, to give to Niamh in case she woke up.

He smiled slightly at the thought that for once, he was the one nursing her back to health and not the other way around.