La Belle au bois dormant

Summary: Morgana returns and 'Emrys' is forced to make an appearance. But as Gwen falls prey to magic, friendships are tested and secrets revealed. Are Merlin and Arthur strong enough to endure it?

Timeline: Set after season 4

Spoilers: Up to and including season 4

A/N: Thank you for reading and for the reviews! Hope you enjoy!


Chapter 2

"Arthur," Gwen pleaded, taking hold of Arthur's hands and forcing him to look her in the eye. She smiled softly. "It will be fine."

"This is Morgana we're talking about. You know what she is capable of," Arthur argued, his shoulders tense from worry and frustration.

They stood in Gwen's room, Arthur dressed in his chainmail as Gwen tried to talk him down. But he was having none of it. How could he when Morgana had all but threatened Gwen in front of a hall full of guests? Had she not done enough damage? Had she not caused enough trouble? Though he had known it was only wishful thinking, he had hoped that when Morgana had disappeared that last time, it would be for good. Yet she was back once more, and he doubted her motives were friendly.

"I can't lose you, Gwen," he went on to say, voice soft, his fingers tracing lightly against the skin of her cheek.

"You won't lose me, Arthur."

But he pulled away to move back toward the door, two guards standing waiting. He would leave the guards with Gwen and would take several knights with him to scour the castle and Camelot. Morgana would not get to Gwen. She couldn't.

"Arthur," Gwen called once more, waiting until he turned to face her before continuing, "be careful."

He nodded then headed out into the halls. Turning toward the two guards, he gave them their order. "No one is to enter this room and you are not to leave this post. Understood?"

Both guards inclined their head, uttering a brief 'yes, Sire' before taking up post either side of the door as Arthur took off down the hall toward the waiting knights.


Merlin watched over Gaius' shoulder as the old physician studied the spindle. It sat, looking harmless, upon a piece of red fabric. Gaius had already taken a small sample from the tip of it and Merlin had watched as he had placed it in a vial with water. Now that vial stood off to the side and Gaius focused on the spindle itself.

"It's laced with poison, no doubt," the old physician noted, narrowing his eyes on the spindle, "though with what kind, I cannot say."

"Is that why you took the sample?" Merlin asked, motioning to the vial.

"So you do pay attention?" Gaius mocked, offering a smile and a raised eyebrow at Merlin before answering. "Yes. If I can remove the poison from the splinter and analyse it, I should be able to figure out what it is, though it will take some time."

"And what about magic?" Merlin questioned, wary. He looked over the spindle again, still feeling that faint thrum of magic about, like tiny vibrations on the air.

"If Morgana is involved then we cannot rule it out. Most likely, she may have used an enchantment to increase the poison's potency."

Merlin nodded in understanding. He knew all too well the dangers of magic and poison when mixed together, though he had to admit that he remembered very little of the event with the chalice and only knew snippets of what Gaius had told him. "Will you be able to make a cure?"

Gaius pushed back from the bench and let out a deep sigh, looking gravely to Merlin. "Let us hope we will not require one."

Chewing at his lip, Merlin offered another nod.

"Do you think she'll come?" he asked after another moment, knowing he didn't need to clarify who he was referring to.

"Morgana feels she has been wronged, Merlin, and she is determined to have her revenge. It is not a question of whether she will or will not come, but a question of when." Moving to stand, Gaius placed his hand on Merlin's back, a gesture of reassurance meant to ease the heaviness in his words. "You should rest, Merlin. When Morgana does come, you will need to be at your best."


It was with a great reluctance that Merlin did as Gaius said and even then, when he had found his way to bed, he would hardly call his sleep restful. He tossed and turned, his sheets twisting around him, wrapping him up in a tight cocoon that was too hot and too sticky. With the unrest came fragments of dreams, messed up images that flashed by too quickly.

He dreamt of the girl from the great hall and of the spindle. It spun upon red fabric, held in place by some unknown power, before fading to be replaced by an image of Gwen, asleep in her bed, peaceful, calm, and unaware of the danger that approached. And he dreamt of Morgana, with her dark hair and bright eyes, eyes that felt so familiar but not on Morgana.

It was then that he woke. His eyes snapped open and he let out a breath. Realisation dawned on him and he untangled himself from his sheets. Grabbing his boots, he pulled them on as he moved forward, his jacket forgotten. He rushed on, nearly tripping down the small staircase as he pulled the second boot on.

"Merlin?" Gaius questioned, raising his tired head from the workbench. "What are you doing?"

"The horse!" Merlin called in response, halfway toward the door before Gaius spoke again.

"The horse?"

"Yes! Arthur's horse. That's why it was the wrong one. That's why the guy seemed so strange," Merlin answered, pausing at the doorway to look back to Gaius.

"What are you talking about?" A frown found its way onto Gaius' face, his hand moving up as he pushed back a yawn.

"The horse is Morgana! She transformed herself into a horse! She's here, in Camelot, right now." Then he was moving again, reaching for the door handle as the next words slipped from his mouth. "I have to get to Gwen."

"Merlin! Wait!" Gaius called, more alert, no doubt the mention of Morgana waking him up. "If what you say is true, then it'll be risky. If you go up against Morgana, someone may see you using magic."

Merlin nodded. "You're right."

"Then what will you do?"

A grin formed on his face and he turned back into the room, snatching up a cloak from nearby. "I'll just have to make sure that it's not me they see."


Cloak wrapped around him to hide his clothes, the familiar spell tumbled from Merlin's lips as he drew closer to Gwen's room. The change was instant, unseen in the deserted and darkened corridor. His pace was slower in that form, back hunched slightly, bones creaking like an old bridge in the wind. But the magic was still strong in him, strong enough that he didn't feel weak.

And Morgana knew him as an old man, knew him as Emrys. She feared him, which could only work to his advantage.

He was almost at Gwen's rooms when he heard her scream. His pace quickened and he rounded the corner. The two guards lay unconscious by the open door and Merlin knew. Morgana was already there.

"Morgana!" Gwen's voice echoed out into the corridor, strong, but Merlin could hear the fear beneath the strength. "Why? Why are you doing this?"

"I only want what's rightfully mine," was Morgana's reply.

Merlin rushed on, pushed himself down the hall and to the doorway. His eyes took in the scene with a quick sweep of the room. Gwen stood beside her bed, backing carefully away from Morgana, her gaze locked on what Morgana held. The spindle. Worry flitted across Merlin's mind as he thought of Gaius. If Morgana had taken the spindle from him, what had happened to the old physician?

He pushed the thought aside, swallowed it to allow himself to focus on the scene at hand.

"Árísan byre!" he called out, his voice a scratchy croak as he raised his hand toward Morgana.

Morgana turned to him, her eyes widening, but by the time she realised he was there, it was too late. She was thrown backwards, away from the bed and into the dresser by the window. For a moment, she lay still, but a spell was on her lips in no time, her eyes flashing gold as the magic flowed from her. Various items from the dresser flew across the room toward Merlin, but he dismissed them easily.

"Gescildan," he commanded, arm still raised.

The items paused midair then dropped to the ground. But it wasn't the clattering of metal against stone that caught Merlin's attention. It was a fainter noise, one no louder than a whisper. Gwen gasped from beside the bed, and Merlin turned toward her, taking in the frown upon her lips and the crease in her burrowed brow. She met his eyes, questioning, before falling to her knees, one hand upon the bed as her other moved up to her shoulder.

"You're too late, old man," Morgana spat at him, pulling herself up from the wreckage of the dresser. Her lips curled into an unpleasant smile and it was then that Merlin realised she no longer held the spindle. In fact, he could see it nowhere near her.

There were shouts from outside the room now, and the pounding of feet against stone. Arthur's voice called out but Merlin didn't make out what was said. His head felt too light from the realisation that Morgana had tricked him. She had used the spell aimed at him as a distraction and it had worked.

Morgana laughed, cold and callous as she backed away toward the window. She didn't vanish, not just yet and Merlin knew she wouldn't, not until she had seen the look on Arthur's face. Not until she had made sure that Arthur knew she had done this.

Merlin ignored her and pushed forward, dropping to the floor in front of Gwen. The spindle lay by her feet, the tip coated in red, the same red that spread out from her shoulder. Her breathing was barely there, too light, and her eyes closed as her head fell to rest upon the bed. A dozen spells passed through Merlin's mind and he dismissed each in turn before deciding on the one he needed, the one he prayed would work.

Eyes closed, he placed his hand over her shoulder and uttered the words beneath his breath, a whisper. He was still whispering them when he heard Arthur's arrival at Gwen's door. He didn't look up to see the devastation and anger on Arthur's face or the pure vicious glee on Morgana's. He didn't need to.

"My gift to you and your queen, dear Brother," Morgana all but sang.

Merlin heard the scrape of metal as Arthur unsheathed his sword, heard him lunge forward, and he heard the break of glass and whoosh of wind. Morgana was gone and Arthur had stricken nothing but thin air.

Swallowing thickly, Merlin removed his hand from Gwen and slowly pulled himself up from the ground. Saddened eyes found Arthur, holding the King's rage filled gaze for what felt like an almost eternal silence.

Then the silence broke.

Arthur took a step forward, raising his sword to point at Merlin, a snarl turning up his lips. "You!"

He lunged forward and it was only sheer luck that allowed Merlin to dodge the attack in time.

"Arthur, you must listen to me," he tried to plead.

But the words fell on deaf ears and Arthur swung his sword at Merlin once more. This time luck was not on Merlin's side. Body too old, too slow, the blade made contact. It sliced through the cloth of the cloak and bit into the skin on Merlin's side. The pain didn't register with him at first, not until he looked down to see the red seeping out.

He swayed for a moment, knees weakening, but righted himself enough to stop the next attack, the one that would surely be fatal. Arms raised, he pushed out with his magic, stopped Arthur in his tracks and sent the young King flying backwards. Arthur didn't move again when he landed, head falling forward, unconscious.

Spinning on the spot, Merlin did the same with the two knights by the door as they made to rush him. They landed out in the hall against the wall, out cold, and Merlin moved forward. He pushed himself, even though his body protested, his side aching, and he kept pushing himself, because he knew it would not be long before others found their way there.

He made it all the way down to the lower level before he heard voices and saw the flicker of a torch from ahead. Drawing in a deep breath, he moved to hide behind a pillar until the knights had passed, rushing to Arthur's aid. When they had disappeared, taking the light with them, Merlin closed his eyes.

Everything felt so heavy, making it a temptation to just let body slide down the pillar and to the floor, where he could sleep. Snapping his eyes open, he shook his head, forcing the thoughts away and instead focused on the spell that would change him back.

He had gotten it down to a fine art, all the practise he had had at transforming, and yet the pain in his side muddled up the words in his head. It took him several attempts before he got them right and by then the pain was so blinding that he was beginning to doubt he could make it back to Gaius without help.

With one hand, he pulled the cloak away and let it fall to the ground behind the pillar. It made him feel somewhat lighter, and when he moved again, it was with a little more ease. His bones no longer creaked, but his pace was still slow, his back still hunched, and to add to it all, his head felt like it was full of clouds, muddled and woozy.

He trudged forward, making his way through the empty corridors and onward toward Gaius' chambers. Each step was heavier than the last, the weight increasing on his shoulders, until finally, he broke through the doorway to Gaius' room and it all became too much. The world was spinning too much and he felt too tired. He went tumbling forward, head first, but darkness claimed him before he could even reach the ground.


Thank you for reading!