Chapter Four: A Cure for Curses


Some Time After The Incident

"Did you do that on purpose?" Gaius immediately asked as soon as they heard the clang of Leon shutting the door in the other end of the corridor.

"Did what on purpose?" Merlin asked bewildered. That had not been the question he had anticipated getting..

"Send Leon away by destroying the food you had. That was very clever of you, if slightly risky - what if he hadn't agreed to get you more?"

"What do - no, I didn't do it on purpose", Merlin protested. "It just… happened."

Gaius' eyes softened, and he dragged one of the guard chairs up towards the bars, sitting down so close they could touch each other through the metal rods, if they had wanted to. Merlin could smell his robes - they smelled like his workshop, like beeswax, thyme, dust and iron.

They smelled like home.

"Finish the apple, at least", Gaius said suddenly, but with a soft voice. "Until Leon comes back. If you didn't wake up until now… you'll need it."

"Oh." Merlin pulled himself out of his pensiveness, and picked up the fruit he'd dropped when Gaius came in. "Yeah."

He took a small bite, but had lost his appetite, despite being ravenous. He didn't understand why looking at Gaius felt difficult now when it had been all he wanted a moment ago. Why he wanted to back up, until Gaius wasn't that close to him, until he couldn't be touched. Why he felt the urge to yell for Gaius to leave him alone even though he really, really didn't want to be left alone.

"Merlin", Gaius said slowly. Merlin didn't look up from his apple. Then he felt childish again, and forced himself to raise his head, to look Gaius in the eyes. The old man's eyes were strangely bright, and immediately, Merlin's fury was back. He clenched his teeth to try to keep it from showing, but suspected it was no use. He had no right. He had no right to cry - not when Merlin had been abused, left as if for dead, imprisoned, hurt, while Gaius wandered around free of suspicion, free of fear above ground -

"Merlin, I am so, so sorry."

"'s fine", he muttered automatically, looking away again, because he still felt the anger bubbling, brewing so close to the surface that if he just scratched it, he might explode.

"No, it's not. And I understand why you're angry with me. I did what I thought was right and -" Gaius took a deep, shaking breath that almost made Merlin look up before he willed himself to be still "- and I was wrong. I should never have subjected you to any of this, I should never have taken part. I was a foolish old man, hoping to protect you, but… I didn't."

He fell silent.

Merlin tried to hold on to his anger, because feeling angry felt good, it felt right - but inevitably, it drained away, slipped off of him, and then he was only empty.

"Yes, you did", he said wearily, looking up towards Gaius, ashamed to see his eyes still bright with unshed tears. "I wouldn't be alive if you hadn't protected me. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologise to me." Gaius sadly shook his head. "I've put my own safety above yours -"

"No,you haven't", Merlin interrupted, forcing down the cough that once again wanted to break through, but which would hurt Gaius to hear if he let out. "Maybe above my comfort, because I'm not going to pretend I like it here, really", he added drily and took another bite of the apple (he really was starving, possibly literally), "but not above my safety. Speaking of that, how did you manage to convince Uther I don't have my magic?"

Gaius looked grateful for the change of subject. "During the Purge, several sorcerers that were caught lost their ability to do magic during their imprisonments - out of physical weakness, helplessness and hopelessness, I suspect. I would occasionally assist in the only way I felt I could. By allowing the King to believe I'd robbed them of their magic through inhibiting concoctions, he'd allow them the quick death of the executioner's axe, instead of sending them to the pyre."

Merlin heard the self-loathing in Gaius' voice clearly, but didn't say anything.

He couldn't - shouldn't - judge Gaius' actions during the Purge, because he hadn't been there, he hadn't felt the terror himself - but at the same time, he didn't have it in him to tell Gaius it was fine, that he'd done all he could, either, because these were people's lives. And each and every one of them had mattered to someone.

When Merlin apparently wasn't going to speak, Gaius continued quietly: "I believed Uther would allow us a few more days of research on the curse if he thought you harmless. It would give you time to come up with a plan on what to do."

"A plan?" Merlin asked slowly. "No - wait - a few more days? Shouldn't I be getting out of here?"

"Is that what you want?"

Merlin felt dumbfounded. "Yes - I mean - should it not be? I'm not doing anyone any good here getting drugged, hallucinating and constantly passing out! Arthur hasn't even come to see me once! This clearly isn't working, Gaius!"

"If you want to escape, I will assist you in any way you'd want", Gaius said calmly, never taking his eyes off Merlin and sitting up straighter on his chair.

"Wait - no, that's not what I mean, Gaius - you must keep your cover -"

"Keeping my cover isn't nearly as important as you are. I told you, I've been foolish. A weak, frightened old man. I will not abandon you again."

"So all you've done so far will have been for nothing, then?" Merlin asked with far more bitterness in his voice than he would have liked. "No. I can escape on my own if I really need to. You should stay out of it."

Gaius was silent for a second. "If you wish. I will not interfere if you don't want me to. But yes, Merlin, you do have time - at least another day, probably more, if you'd like to stay and think on what to do. Uther will be occupied in the library for at least that long, looking for a way to break the curse."

"He won't find anything", Merlin said, in sudden desperation to explain himself. "Gaius, I have no idea why Arthur's blood would react that way - I haven't used magic on him for ages - well, not long-lasting spells at least -"

"I know", Gaius said, sounding alarmed at Merlin's insistence. "But he will be looking nonetheless. So, if you want it, you have time, before you have to choose."

Merlin didn't answer. He took another bite. Chewed. Swallowed. Almost nothing left. Good thing Leon would come back with more food.

Could he stay? Could he bear it? He wanted nothing more than to get out of this stinking, dark, damp place - but blasting the cell door open in an open display of magic (because he'd never been very good with the more discreet unlocking spells, and he should really have practiced them more when he had had the time) to go in search for Arthur didn't really seem like a brilliant plan either. Arthur didn't do loss of control very well - he was used to being the one making the decisions. He should be the one to come to Merlin, not the other way around - it would be easier for him to listen, if he'd decided that was what he was going to do - and then forgive. Maybe. If he was ever going to come.

"Why hasn't Arthur been to see me?" he asked then, wondering why that hadn't been his first question. "Does he… does he hate me that much?"

Gaius slowly shook his head. "Arthur is… conflicted."

Something in Merlin he hadn't believed still was there surged - a small light, a featherlight sensation. Hope. Conflicted? He could work with conflicted. That wasn't Yes, he hates you and wishes to see you dead, nor He couldn't care less what happens to you, nor He's decided he never wants to see you again.

"But -" Gaius continued, but cut himself short when the door further down the corridor opened again.

He quickly turned to Merlin, urgency in his barely whispering voice. "He can't come, he's locked in."

Wait. What?

"Locked in?" Merlin breathed. "Where? Why? Is he in danger?"

Gaius merely shook his head in answer. Was that a "No, he isn't in danger", or a "I can't say anything else now?" Merlin couldn't tell, even as he stared at Gaius, looking for the slightest clue in his expression.

"We're done here, I think", Gaius then said in a normal tone of voice for Sir Leon's sake, and Merlin could have hit him for leaving it there, but forced himself to calm down. He knew Gaius couldn't say anything else, he knew it, but fie he was tired of being left in the dark. Something of his murderous reaction to having been left hanging must have shown in the face, though, because Leon looked wary when he sat the tray he had been carrying down on the small table.

"What about the book you're waiting for, Gaius?" Leon asked politely. "Don't you wish to wait until Gregory is back?"

Gaius rose slowly. "I don't think it will be of use to me anymore, not after this… examination", he offered. He looked tired again. "I will apologise to Sir Gregory when I next see him, I rather suspect I will meet him on the way. I will be back tomorrow with the next dose of the inhibitor."

Leon nodded his respect, and Gaius turned to leave.

Merlin instantly felt very cold. Confused. And very lonely.

"Gaius!" he called after him, and if he pressed his face against the bars, he could still see him further down the corridor.

Gaius stopped walking, and turned half-way. "Yes, Merlin?" he sighed, looking in every part as an old man disappointed and betrayed by someone he had trusted. Merlin's guts twisted. It wasn't real, he reminded himself. An act. They had to act. Damnit, he'd just told Gaius they had to act - he should know.

Still, he couldn't quite keep his voice steady when he said: "Just… how long have I been here?"

Gaius expression flickered for a brief moment. Grief? Sadness? Anger? Guilt? "A week, tomorrow."

And he left.

A week tomorrow.

Merlin felt almost faint. And during those six days, he'd been awake… three times, now? Four? A total of four or five hours, at the most? Another thought struck him.

He looked up towards Leon instead. "And… what time is it now?"

He didn't know what he looked like, but Leon's wary expression gave way to one of something like... pity. Merlin didn't like it.

"Late afternoon", Leon said, with that frustratingly neutral voice he had perfected.

"Alright", Merlin whispered.

The world had started spinning slowly again. His first thought, to his great shame, was a panicky fear, mostly sensation and little thought, that Gaius had put something in the tonic he'd been given - but as soon as he got hold of the thought, he rejected it - Gaius would never do that if he had the choice, he was still his friend, his family. He was merely disoriented, confused. He hadn't eaten anything for a very long time (a very long time) and drunk very little. It made sense, if his body didn't quite work as usual.

"Alright", he said again, loud enough that the hoarseness of his voice was audible, not knowing why he said it but feeling he needed to say something to interrupt his tumbling, spinning, unsettled thoughts.

Leon had mercy on him. "There's food, if you'd like it." He wasn't friendly, but he wasn't hostile either - which he would have every excuse to be, really. It wasn't much, but Merlin would take what he got.

The food on the tray looked good. There was new bread - uncrushed - as well as cheese, and something from a bowl which steamed slightly and smelled of rosemary. "Thanks", he whispered.

Late afternoon.

A week.

Then he scrambled across the floor to his - the - bucket in the corner and threw up bile and small apple pieces.


Day Seven

Arthur sat by his table, sprawled in one chair, picking at his breakfast. It wasn't bad, and there was a lot of it, but he had no appetite.

The thoughts of Merlin stuck in a cold, damp dungeon cell reappeared with frightening regularity, but he was getting better at seeing them for what they were. Parts of the curse, nothing else. It wasn't his duty to worry about his former servant, and the only reason he did so was because Merlin had forced him to. He shouldn't. So he didn't.

It was almost time for Gaius' daily check up - he'd been in almost every day, just as his father had, testing his blood with the crystal, mumbling about how Arthur should try to keep his spirits up, to which Arthur always replied that he was in good spirits, thank you, and how possibly, with supervision of course, a visit to the training grounds might do him some good, which Arthur always flat out refused.

He was staying. He'd made his decision. He might be dangerous to others.

He quickly quashed the feeling of that's not right that always resurfaced whenever he thought such things about the curse Merlin had put on him. They simply didn't know enough about it. They had to take precautions.

There was the now familiar scraping noise from the beam being lifted off of the door from the outside. The key turned in the lock - and then, a knock.

Arthur sighed. How come the same action was endearing when Guinevere did it, but enervating when it was someone else? "Enter", he half-yelled, and took another bite of his sausage, so it wouldn't look like he'd been waiting.

"Good morning, Sire", Gaius greeted him solemnly. "Have you had a good night's sleep?"

"Decent enough", Arthur replied, grumpily enough that it probably was audible. He'd been awake until well past midnight, thinking he'd go insane from restlessness if the curse didn't finish him off first, wanting so badly to be let out so he could train, ride his horse, take a walk to the lower town, anything that wasn't sitting or lying down, but knowing he couldn't.

"Might I suggest at least getting some air and sunlight later, Sire?" Gaius looked slightly concerned. "You look a little pale. It would do you good, I believe."

And there it was again.

"I've said no, Gaius", Arthur said annoyed. "We still don't know that wouldn't be dangerous. Do we?" he added as an afterthought, and as Gaius started to shake his head, he gave an immediate affirmative nod. "I didn't think so. I'm not going to waste away from lack of sunlight. I'm not a plant."

"Indeed, Sire", Gaius said simply.

"Did you bring the crystal?" Arthur asked, wanting to get this next part over with, and started rolling up his shirt sleeve to reveal seven tidy little nicks in various stages of healing on his left forearm. He still wasn't comfortable about the twinkling little rock, especially not touching him, but he wasn't dead so far. It wasn't dangerous. It was just… creepy. "I'm ready if you are, look -" he waved a little in the air with a handkerchief - "I remembered something for the blood and everything."

"If you so wish, Sire, of course we will test your blood again. However, we've spent the entire day yesterday in the library and haven't tried anything else since we last tested it, so I don't believe we'd see any difference." Gaius voice was clear and neutral.

Arthur looked at him with narrowed eyes. "You haven't tried anything since yesterday? An entire day more in the library? Damn it, Gaius, aren't there only so many curses something like this can be?"

"You forget, Sire, that we are working with a somewhat… limited supply of informative books", Gaius said drily. "Not much survived the Great Purge. There might be much out there we know nothing about."

"In which case", Arthur countered angrily, "you should be finished with the library by now and have moved on!"

"To what, exactly?" Gaius said sharply. "Beating the curse out of him?"

Arthur stared.

Breaking him forcibly.

Beating the curse out of him.

But no. He shouldn't think of that. He should force those thoughts from his mind. He wasn't supposed to worry. Merlin was evil. He had to remember that. He shouldn't mind.

And yet...

"My apologies, Sire." Gaius swept a hand over his face, taking a seat by the table uninvited - very rare for the old man to breach protocol that way, but Arthur was not about to comment on it. "This past week has been…"

"Don't mention it", Arthur said, feeling uncomfortable. "I… quite understand."

Gaius made a small noise which could have been a chuckle, a sob, a sigh, or something in between.

There was a tense silence.

"I know you've been… fooled, Gaius", Arthur then began, feeling he had to try to make sense of it all and Gaius was his best shot, now that they were already talking, "and I can't say... well, he fooled me too, all of us. And I'm sorry he wasn't who you thought he was." Oh, had he only been who they thought he was. "Nevertheless… despite how… distasteful the thought is… should we not try... everything?"

He noticed his voice had become more and more hesitant the longer he talked, and ending in an almost pleading tone.

He just… he didn't know. He didn't understand.

What if they needed to beat the curse out of him? What then? If there was a chance… should they not take it?

Gaius looked faintly ill. "Sire, I… I've never heard of a curse that works that way."

"With all due respect, Gaius", Arthur said as kindly as he could, while still feeling just as queasy as Gaius looked, "there are things even you don't know."

"Of course there are things I don't know. But I think I'd have heard about something like torture being a cure for curses, if it really was one."

The undertone of horror in Gaius' voice was still there, and the ways his hands shook slightly - in anger? In a failure to overcome his emotions? - spoke of a reaction he couldn't stop even though he tried to hide it. Arthur wasn't the best interpreter of people's emotions in general, but he knew Gaius, and there had been precious little else to do this past week than think. And this - Gaius' actions, Gaius' reactions, Gaius' speech - made no sense. He was one of the most level-headed men Arthur had ever met, completely capable of removing almost all emotion from any given situation, even the most gruesome or personally upsetting. Gaius had been betrayed along with Arthur - his own ward, his own kin, had been hiding something huge, ugly and dangerous, right under his nose, threatening the son of the king he'd served faithfully for decades. And so, if he would be horror struck, it could maybe still be explained - but he should be so by the talk of the curse, not the potential cure for it.

This wasn't right.

He'd seen past it for a full week, but he had finally realised something.

"You don't believe he did it", Arthur said incredulously, but no, that wasn't entirely it, he realised, "- no, you don't even think I am cursed!"

Gaius looked alarmed. "Sire, I didn't say -"

"Bloody hell, Gaius!" Arthur almost yelled. "What more proof do you need? He's admitted it himself! There's magic in my blood! He's betrayed us all!"

His thoughts continued when his throat felt tight - he's betrayed me, made me look a fool, I thought he - before he refused to even continue thinking about it, and threw a goblet standing on the table hard into a wall.

Gaius flinched slightly in surprise at the noise, then sighed deeply. "If there's one thing I've learned, Sire, it is that things are rarely as they seem."

Arthur was speechless for a brief moment. Then he blurted out the first thing to came to mind: "Gaius, you're in denial."

It came out sounding more like a question than he would have liked, but at least he'd said it.

"Am I indeed, Sire." Gaius didn't meet his eyes. "Yes, I'm sure I must be. Will that be all?"

Arthur nodded mutely, not knowing what to say. Or do, for that matter. He probably shouldn't have thrown that goblet. There was ale all over the floor. It wasn't until Gaius had left he remembered they'd forgotten to test his blood again.

He spent the next half hour staring out of the window towards the guards standing in front of the old parts of the castle, carefully trying not to think about anything at all.


"Rise before your King!"

A hasty scuffling sound.

"Sire." Warily.

"Don't pretend you see me as your king. You were overheard."

"I've never said I -"

"Do you admit you are a sorcerer?"

A pause.

"...yes. But that -"

"And do you admit putting Prince Arthur under the influence of a controlling curse?"

"A… curse?"

"There's no use for that. You were overheard in your conversation with the other sorcerer yesterday. Your plans have already failed. You will relinquish your hold over the Prince immediately."

"I haven't cursed Arthur!"

"There's nowhere to hide from this, sorcerer. His blood has been proven tainted by a crystal used to recognise such effects. Now, this is your last chance. Confess your crime, release the Prince from your curse, or I promise you a slow and very painful death."

Pause.

"I cannot admit to that, because I have not done it. Where is Ar- the Prince?"

"Very well then - if you will not willingly release him, you will be made to. Proceed."

The turn of a heavy key in a slightly rusty lock.

"- now hang on just a minute - ow!"

Slight thuds of knees hitting stone.

"Gaius." An order.

"- if I could just -" and then a hiss of pain as holds tightened.

No one spoke.

Someone sputtering, gagging. Three coughs and then gasping for air.

"What was that?" Faintly, hoarsely.

No one answered.

The lock turned in the key again, and four sets of footsteps - one angry set, two marching sets and one slow set - echoed down the corridor.

There was silence.

For a very, very long time.


Day Seven

For a place where one could do nothing but think, dungeons really wasn't the best environment to do so.

For one thing - and this seemed rather trivial in the scope of things, but was very annoying nevertheless - there was absolutely no comfortable way to sit. Lying down wasn't much better, and standing up just felt desperate.

For another, he still felt queasy whenever he moved too quickly - after-effects of the herbs, too little food or nervousness, he couldn't say - and that was frankly quite distracting. The smell from the bucket in the corner wasn't helping things either. He'd considered carrying it to the front of the cell, as close to the bars as he could, to maybe entice either Sir Brennis or Sir Montague to empty it once they were bothered by it too - but thus far, that had also felt slightly desperate, so he had just let it be.

And lastly, the constant drip drip drip from somewhere down the other end of the corridor was driving him mad. Neither knight on guard seemed bothered, but then again, they spent most of their time playing cards and looking bored. Had either of them been Leon, Merlin would have tried talking to them, but the one time he tried, Montague stuck the wooden end of his pike through the bars and tried to hit him with it, yelling for him to shut his damned mouth. He had been slow and clumsy, so Merlin easily avoided the hit, but it seemed pointless to do it again. Brennis normally wasn't nearly as irritable as Montague tended to be - a bit serious and dull, perhaps - but he was only Merlin's age, and would probably be modelling his behaviour after the older knight's, so there wasn't anything to be had there either.

What was worse, though, was how deeply unsatisfying Gaius' daily visit with the false inhibitor had been. Merlin had hoped for another chance at conversation - above all an explanation of what the hell he can't come he's locked in meant - but Sir Brennis and Sir Montague weren't about to leave and looked only too happy to assist Gaius in forcing the contents of the small bottle down Merlin's throat, should he try to stall any more. The only new information Merlin had, therefore, was that apparently, the king hadn't left the library all night and all day (and that someone with authority should check up on him to see whether he might need anything, said by Gaius to a somewhat perplexed Montague who insisted he had no influence over the king nor could give him anything that a servant couldn't assist with just as well, if not better). Merlin took this to mean the King is still undecided and that he had more time.

To think. If he wanted to. And since the only thing he had thus realised was that blasting a hole in the dungeon wall, knocking out his guards and sneaking through the castle to try to find the apparently locked in prince was a decidedly bad idea if he ever wanted to be able to explain things to Arthur without being killed on sight, he did want that.

If only he could actually focus and try to come up with a better plan, instead of lying sprawled on the straw-covered floor, bouncing a foot to the rhythm of the drip drip drip. The sun had set at least an hour ago, making the cell and the corridor dim and lit only by the two torches on the walls and a small lantern on the guards' table, to play cards by. He mostly kept his eyes closed - Brennis and Montague weren't really that interesting anyway.

He didn't trust he could sneak out without revealing he still could use his magic. He had toyed with the idea of putting Sirs Brennis and Montague to sleep, opening the cell door and… well, and leave. After that, he'd had no clue - he didn't know if there were more guards in the guard room he'd have to pass to get out of this part of the castle, he didn't know where Arthur was held, he didn't even quite know what he'd do if he would find him. Break him out too? Try to persuade him to come with Merlin to… where, exactly? The idea was ridiculous - laughable, even. What could he say? Hi Arthur, we're in a bit of a hurry, could we run now and talk later?

He also didn't know how long it would take before his obvious use of magic would be discovered, but eventually it must be - which would put Gaius at an enormous risk for obviously having assisted the dangerous sorcerer as he'd been feeding the king false information.

On the other hand, he wasn't very keen on just sitting around either, waiting for the king to come back with something new to experiment with. Eventually, Merlin was sure, he'd turn to more obvious measures. The torture chamber in Camelot wasn't used very often, because even Uther didn't enjoy hurting people for the sake of hurting them, but there was one. And someone threatening the heir to the throne would constitute as just the sort of crisis that would make it necessary to use it, in Uther's eyes. Merlin knew exactly where it was - just further down the corridor towards the drip drip drip of water. He wasn't particularly interested in seeing it for himself.

So, if he wasn't going to flee, and he wasn't going to stay, he must come up with a third option. And therein lay the dilemma. He just couldn't find one at the moment - hadn't been able to all day.

At least he wasn't tired. He had several hours more to think before he'd fall asleep - he might have an idea.

Maybe something would happen - a guard change that would come with an opportunity, a new visit from Gaius with more information, anything really. Maybe Gwen would come visit - no, wait, he didn't hope for that, he must look awful and probably reeked, and she couldn't do anything anyway.

...maybe Arthur would come.

The clang of the door to the corridor opening was very loud, and Merlin startled awake - awake? He hadn't meant to sleep, damn it all, he'd done nothing but sleep this last week -

He'd barely made it to a sitting position, awkwardly holding parts of his weight on his left hand, when he froze.

The King of Camelot looked mad where he stood just outside the cell, almost touching the bars, as if he couldn't help himself - red-eyed, rumpled clothing, and a frenzied stare. Merlin quickly looked behind him to see who had accompanied him, but there was no Gaius, not even any more guards, only the confused Montague and Brennis standing attention - and his heartbeats felt shallow and quick.

"Bring him", Uther said in a raspy voice which didn't sound like his - and continued down the corridor, past Merlin's cell and his view, past the drip drip drip, and there was another clang of a door opening.

He was out of time.


A/N: I am so sorry for all the typos in the last chapter! I promise to do better and reread everything before I post from now on.

Brennis isn't mine either! He has only been mentioned, though, so I figure I can do whatever I'd like with him.

Once again, thank you so much for your comments! I appreciate them all very much. Since I've had a few requests (some contradictory ones, as always is the case) of where my readers want it to go, I will give you an idea, so those of you who disapprove of the idea might find other stories you'd enjoy better instead.

As you might have noticed by now, exploring what Merlin and Arthur might think, say and do in another context than the show is my main inspiration for this story - and what if everyone were doing only what they thought was right? In other words, I will try to stay as close to canon characterisation as I can, because I value that in other stories very much. This means the story might get icky and bad things might happen, because Uther isn't beyond desperate measures when he feels threatened. This also means that Merlin might do cool stuff, because sometimes he actually does pretty cool stuff, but there will be no BAMF!Merlin (which I've learned is a term and come to understand what it indicates, but have no idea what it actually stands for - please clue me in if anyone knows!). Also, please bear in mind this is set between seasons 2 and 3, which means Merlin simply hasn't had time to learn much of the amazing things he can do later in the show (remember the mess regarding him being stuck in the aging spell? Yeah? Me too…). I haven't decided on an ending of this, even though I have an idea, so I can't make definite promises about happy endings either.

Still with me? Until next time, then! :) (When the rating will change to Mature audiences, just in case.)