A/N: First, I've been really busy with the holiday and prepping for finals, so apologies for not getting back to all the reviews. Thanks, though, to everyone who's reviewed the first two chapters. :)

This chapter's a little different from the first two, but I think it'll fit into the overall arc. Let me know how you like it! It took me a while to settle on the plot, but I'm happy with the end result, especially since tonight's episode has taken away my faith in Morgana and Gwen's friendship.

Again, this chapter's unbeta-ed. I tried to talk one of my "Chuck" beta-ers into reading it, but no luck! :P


Morgana hates being the last to know something.

It happens all too often, because Uther is too conceited to think she can contribute anything and Arthur is too self-absorbed to realize he often leaves her out of the important things.

This time it's even worse, though, because it's her best friend lying sick with a fever, and she'd been traipsing around the castle all morning like she didn't care. And when she'd finally found out from a servant, she'd raced over to Gaius's study only to be turned away out of concern for her safety.

And when she'd asked after Merlin's whereabouts, the physician had told her that he and the Prince were out in the forest, looking for a special type of root he needed to make the remedy.

She'd nearly lost it when he'd told her. Not being able to help Gwen is bad enough, but having to sit around and wait while Merlin and Arthur ride out in search of the cure is even more unendurable.

Sighing, she looks for their approach from her window, has to squint against the light of the setting sun as she watches them ride in on horseback (Merlin the less self-assured of the two). There's a bag bursting with herbs and roots around his shoulder and a grin on his face, but somehow it doesn't lift her spirits, doesn't banish the feeling of uselessness she's entertained all day.

She turns away from the window and pours herself a glass of wine, needing to find a distraction. Luckily, a short while later, it comes in the form of a knock on her door.

"Come in," she says quietly.

The door opens, and Merlin pokes his head inside. "Hey," he greets with a smile, slipping into the room. "Gaius wanted me to tell you that he's mixing up a remedy for Gwen right now. It'll take a few hours to work, and she should rest for a day afterwards, but she should be better soon. So you shouldn't worry."

"Thank you, Merlin," she replies with a soft smile, warmed by the news and by his presence.

He gazes at her for a moment before asking, "Everything okay?"

"Just worried, that's all. She's going to be all right?"

"Of course," he assures her. "I mean, you haven't . . . dreamt that she wouldn't be all right, have you?"

Morgana shakes her head. "But Gaius won't let me do anything, won't even let me see her. I just . . . hate feeling so useless."

She looks up curiously when he chuckles lightly. Seeing her expression, he shakes his head and says quickly, "You could never be useless, Morgana."

"You sound so certain."

He shrugs. "Some days you just have to bide your time."

Smiling, she slips her hand into his and lets her mind cloud with images of the future. Older, wiser, they can bend earth and time – even people – to their will. They can hold fire in their hands, command the rivers with one thought, change the course of destiny with just a blink.

But right now, in this moment, they're just two small people in a very large world. She sometimes feels like a lost soul, drifting alone at sea, and she's grateful that he's there to anchor her when she drifts too far from familiar shores.

Taking strength in his words, Morgana gathers a handful of fresh chrysanthemums she'd picked earlier and holds them out to him. "Will you give these to her? And tell her I said I hope she's better soon."

Merlin takes the flowers with a smile and a nod. "Of course. And I'll tell her you would visit if it weren't for Gaius's strict rules."

Placing her hand on his, she gives it a squeeze. "Thank you, Merlin."

Still smiling, he kisses her on the forehead before backing toward the door. "I'll be back later to let you know how she is."

"Wait," she requests, keeping his fingers latched in hers as their arms stretch between them. He stops and regards her expectantly. Not quite meeting his eyes, Morgana requests softly, "Take me with you next time."

Merlin laughs. "I wouldn't dream of leaving you behind again." Pulling her close, he slides an arm around her waist and leans in close to whisper in her ear. "Gwen's going to be fine," he reassures her before shooting her a crooked smile and slipping back out into the hallway.

And she is fine.

Two days later, she wakes up to find Gwen opening the curtains, a smile gracing her lips in the morning sunshine. Morgana, grinning broadly, greets her friend with a warm hug.

"I'm so glad you're feeling better," she says.

"Me, too," Gwen laughs merrily. "But look at the state of these curtains! It's a wonder you've gotten along without me the past few days."

"I didn't do so badly," Morgana protests, still smiling.

"No," Gwen agrees, "not half as bad as Arthur will do without Merlin."

She turns back to her work nonchalantly, but the comment freezes the blood in Morgana's veins.

"What do you mean?" she asks, trying to hide the shake in her voice.

Glancing up with a frown, Gwen pauses as she straightens the curtain. "Merlin's ill."


Outside of Gaius's study, Morgana pauses to catch her breath and calm her racing heart. With a deep breath, she pushes the door open to find the physician reading quietly in the corner and his patient beside him, sleeping somewhat fitfully. Loath to disturb the quiet atmosphere, she lingers in the doorway. Gaius glances up and does a double take before standing up to welcome her, a kind smile on his face.

"Ah, Lady Morgana. How nice to see you," he says as he walks over to her. Adopting a concerned look, he takes her hands in his and adds, "But you shouldn't be here. We don't want you getting ill."

"I don't care. I want to see him," she insists, ignoring his concern for her and looking over his shoulder for a glimpse at Merlin.

Gaius frowns at her, but, seeing the determined look in her eyes, relents with a reluctant sigh. "Five minutes," he says.

"Ten."

Trying to hide a smile, Gaius shakes his head and steps aside to allow her in. "Ten, then," he says, "I must speak to the king anyways, but I'll be back soon."

Smiling gratefully at him, Morgana sweeps into the room and over to Merlin's cot. His eyes are closed, his face pale, his hair flattened to his sweaty forehead. She sits gingerly beside him and takes his hand, clammy with fever. He looks so young, so guileless, and her heart twists at the sight. Brushing her fingers across his forehead to push back his bangs, she's alarmed by how much heat radiates from his skin.

"Oh, Merlin," she murmurs, trailing her fingertips down his cheek.

He'll be all right, she knows, between Gaius's expertise and his own sheer force of will. But still, seeing him like this sends a pang through her that she can't ignore. A tear escapes her eye and streaks down her cheek before she can stop it, and, to keep her mind off it, she reaches for a rag lying on a nearby table, dips it in a basin of cool water, and gently wipes the sweat from his forehead.

There are so many things she needs to say to him, so many thoughts spinning about in her head, but she can't find a way to put voice to any of them. Even when she's in no danger of being overheard, even when he can't shoot her that adorable, knowing smile whenever she's close to bearing her heart, she can't tell him how she feels.

She runs a hand down his chest, playing with the folds of his scarf, and leans down to place a soft kiss on his forehead.

Gaius, having returned, clears his throat from the other side of the room, and she straightens. He's regarding her curiously, his eyebrows narrowed, and Morgana feels like the old physician can see straight through her.

"How?" she asks quickly, eager to turn his mind to another subject.

Sighing heavily, Gaius takes a seat on the bench at the table. "I warned him not to sit with her too long," he says, "in case she hadn't fully recovered. But you know Merlin. He insisted on keeping her company, catching her up on everything she'd missed. Next thing I know he was burning up. Honestly, you'd think the boy was missing his brain sometimes."

Morgana lets out a soft, lilting laugh. Despite the harshness of Gaius's words, she knows how fondly he feels about his apprentice. "You love him, Gaius," she insists gently. "Just as I do."

The physician lifts a brow. "Perhaps not just as you do," he retorts, causing a furious blush to rise to Morgana's cheeks. He sighs. "If it were anyone else, Lady Morgana, I would caution you about getting caught. But you are sensible even if he is not, and I believe at least you have an understanding of the consequences of this relationship. Therefore I will only say this." He stops just long enough for her to meet his gaze and continues, "Don't hurt him."

"Gaius," she says softly, "I have no intention of hurting him."

Nodding, he contemplates that before telling her, "Sometimes it is the unintentional wounds that hurt the most."

She swallows, wondering how she could ever explain their bond to him, to anyone really. After grappling for the right words, she finally tells him, "He trusts me, and he means too much to me to ever betray that trust."

"I believe that," Gaius replies. "But I'm afraid that even you and I may not be able to protect him from Uther, especially if he finds out about the two of you."

"Merlin's not exactly the best at keeping things to himself, is he?" she chuckles softly.

Gaius shakes his head, a smile on his face. "I can only take care of him so far, Morgana."

She leans over to place a hand on his arm. "He and I look out for each other. I'll make sure he doesn't do anything stupid. I promise, Gaius."

"And he'll make sure you hold your tongue in front of the king?"

Morgana laughs lightly. "I suppose so."

"As much as I hate to say it, perhaps you two are good for each other." When Morgana grins at the comment, he quickly amends it by saying, "But that doesn't mean you can stay. You've already been here too long already, and we can't have the king's ward coming down with a fever, now can we?"

"Fine," she concedes, reluctantly getting to her feet. "But you'll keep me informed, and tell me when he recovers?"

"Of course," Gaius nods.

She thanks the physician before leaning down to plant a kiss on Merlin's cheek, his skin still warm under her touch. "Goodbye, Gaius," she says as she walks across the room. "Take care of him for me."

She hates leaving him, but staying would only draw suspicion. So she stays away, relying on Gwen to bring any news and pretending that a servant boy's health is not the foremost reason for her present distraction. She hates being forced to go about her daily business as if nothing is wrong, and she feels even more useless than she did when Gwen came down with the strange malady.

But her patience is rewarded two days later when she wakes up to find a single rose in a vase by her bed.

"Gwen?" she calls, sitting up and giving the flower a hearty sniff.

It's beautiful, wild, the kind of vibrant red you can only find in the outlying fields.

Gwen appears from around the corner. "Yes, milady?"

"Did you bring me this?" she asks, indicating the flower.

"No," the handmaiden replies with a shake of her head. Smiling, she adds, "It's gorgeous, though."

A shy smile graces Morgana's lips as she slides out from beneath the covers and floats across room toward the window. She strokes her thumb across the petals as she gazes out the window and into the courtyard below, where Arthur and Merlin, the former in full armor and the latter carrying his master's helmet and sword, are passing through on their way to the practice grounds.

Merlin stops walking, looks up, and, seeing her framed in the window, lifts his hand in an inconspicuous wave.

Morgana inclines her head in recognition and holds up the rose, causing Merlin to split out into a wide grin. They share the smile, the look, until Arthur realizes his servant isn't following and doubles back to smack him upside the head. Merlin, looking properly chastised, shoots her one last look before scurrying after the prince.

Watching him go, Morgana holds the rose up to inhale its heady scent and loses herself in visions of the future, a future full of magic, where she and Merlin no longer have to pretend.