Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin. Please read and review.
Black Opal
"What's in the box?" Arthur paused in the act of eating a sausage to look at the end of the table.
"What box?" Merlin was plumping a pillow from Arthur's bed. He looked over his shoulder and saw the prince stand and walk around toward an ornately carved box. "Don't open it, Arthur."
The blonde-haired young man ignored him and put his hand on the lid. Prat, Merlin thought. He hurried over with the intention of slapping his hand down on the lid but was way too late. The prince had unfastened the latch and was opening the box.
Onslaep nu! The warlock hastily muttered a sleep spell, and Arthur crumpled slowly onto the floor, a chair crashing over beside him. The serpent-like creature who emerged was dark green in color with yellow eyes and a crown-shaped crest upon its head. Down the center of its back was a row of webbed spikes. It made a hissing sound, and its movements were similar to those of a king cobra's. Its lethal gaze was directed at the space where Arthur had stood seconds earlier. Two palace guards drawn by the commotion burst into the room.
"No!" Merlin yelled. "It's a basilisk! Cover your eyes! Get out!"
The guards had time to register two things: the prince lying either dead or unconscious on the floor and the strange creature vaulting from the carved box onto the table.
"Get out of the room!" Merlin repeated. "Close the door!"
One of the guards, more cautious than the other, started backing toward the open door, his hand over his eyes. The other, brave but foolhardy, rushed further into the room drawing a dagger as he came. The basilisk, its upper body erect and swaying like a cobra, turned its head to glare balefully into the man's eyes. With a cry of horror, the guard fell, dead before he hit the floor.
The other man, backing up, reached the doorway. He yelled at Merlin, "I'll get help!" He slammed the door behind him.
"No," Merlin said, under his breath to the closed door. "Don't get help. No more people." He had moments at best before the knights, Gaius, or the king himself came in response. On the thought, he sealed the entrance. "Learh fearnancai!"
He was going to have to destroy the basilisk himself, hampered by his inability to look directly at it. He would be depending primarily on his sense of hearing and his knowledge of the room. He lowered his arm from his face, his eyes tightly closed, and listened. He could hear it moving. It was still on the table. He needed to remember where the prince was lying in relation to the rest of the room or he could inadvertently kill him himself. The warlock risked a quick look, using his peripheral vision as much as possible. The creature had slithered to the side of the table away from where Arthur lay. Good.
Ic the withdraf. The basilisk was thrown several feet into the air but landed unhurt, spitting venom and hissing in fury. Where the venom hit the table, smoke and fire curled up. Mistake, thought Merlin. He couldn't afford many of them. He hastily uttered a spell to extinguish the fires.
Merlin's brain decided to kick in. Gaius had told him a basilisk could only be destroyed by seeing its reflection. The warlock became coldly and deliberately rational, as deadly in his way as the serpent. Time and the world coalesced into just this room, this moment, this space. The basilisk had identified him as an imminent threat. He heard it drop from the table to the floor and start to move in his direction. He hurriedly shifted his position and threw the dressing screen to the floor in front of him. "Scildan!" He reenforced his action with a shield spell.
Dimly he registered running footsteps in the outside corridor and then pounding on the door.
"Arthur! Merlin! Are you all right? Can you reach the door?" It was Sir Leon.
"Arthur! Open the door." The king.
More voices. He heard Gaius. No! He refocused. He needed a reflective surface. He risked a quick glance at the table. The metal tray he had brought Arthur's breakfast on was still there. The basilisk was getting too close. He wasn't sure the shield spell would stop it, and he needed more time.
"Ic the withdraf!" The second spell threw the creature against the far wall. It again landed unhurt, turning onto its belly faster than thought and elevating its upper body. Hissing and furious and very lethal, it was coming for him.
Boom! The people in the corridor had found something to use as a battering ram. He wasn't sure how long the door would hold. He was out of time. Merlin uttered one last desperate spell. "Onbregdan!"
The shiny tray lifted from the table. His fingers in the air, the warlock turned the tray perpendicular to the ground, spilling plate, goblet and utensils. He hastily moved the tray across the room and dropped it in front of the creature's eyes. He heard a blood-curdling shriek and then its death throes. Just then the door splintered, and he could see the end of the beam of wood.
Merlin looked hastily around the room, seeing the broken dishes, the burned places on the table, the dead basilisk, the dead guard, and - the unconscious body of the crown prince. He was not going to be able to explain any of this. He had seconds to decide what to do. He quickly spoke a waking spell then moving away from Arthur, he laid down on his side facing away from the door.
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The door had been sealed from within, and Gaius suspected that Merlin had done it himself. With a loud splintering sound, the door gave. Three guards rushed in to secure the room. Close on their heels came Sir Leon and Percival followed by the king and Gaius. The four paused just inside the ruined doorway and surveyed the damage.
Arthur sat up, blinking in confusion. He saw his father and the others near the door. What had happened? He saw one of the palace guards lying on the floor. He looked dead. Arthur had a sudden flash of Merlin being in the room with him earlier. Where was he now? He cast a panicked look around. His servant was lying on his side facing away from him. Arthur got onto his hands and knees to crawl over to him just as his father and Sir Leon reached him.
"Take it easy, Arthur. Where are you hurt?" Uther asked.
Arthur sat up again. "I'm not hurt at all. I feel fine. Why am I on the floor? What happened?"
"You don't know?" Sir Leon asked.
"No." The last thing he remembered was opening a box which Merlin had told him emphatically not to open. Arthur felt a wave of an unaccustomed emotion. Guilt. Did he cause this?
Gaius, standing by Merlin's supposedly unconscious body, looked across the room and saw the basilisk. He knew without being told that the warlock had killed it. Impressive, Merlin.
"Sir Leon," the physician said, urgently. "There's a basilisk in the room. It's dead but make sure no one touches it. Even dead, their bodies are venomous."
Sir Leon turned and saw it and immediately reenforced Gaius' command. "Guards! Make sure no one touches the creature."
"Yes, sir." The three guards stationed themselves around the body of the basilisk.
Arthur sprang lightly to his feet, the sight reassuring the king that he was indeed unharmed. He hurried over to look at the lethal creature to the annoyance of his father.
Taking their new assignment seriously, two of the guards moved protectively between the prince and the basilisk. "Arthur," his father commanded, "move away. Now." Arthur did so with an impatient shake of his body.
Gaius looked down again at Merlin. Unseen by all but himself, the boy's blue eyes were open and aware, and the fingers on one hand uncurled and flattened against his chest. He was quite probably unhurt, but it wouldn't do to appear unconcerned. He knew as well as Merlin that the warlock would never be able to explain his actions. Uther would kill him.
"Sir Leon," Gaius said, injecting a worried note into his voice. "I need one of your men to carry Merlin back to my room."
"Of course." Sir Leon nodded at Percival who easily picked up the slender young man. The knight turned toward the door but found Arthur blocking his way.
"Wait." Arthur grabbed hold of his servant's wrist where his arm dangled and laid it across his stomach. "Merlin?"
"Let Gaius have him," Uther said, impatiently. Why did his son have this ridiculous attachment to a servant?