By the time midnight rolled around, Merlin was pretty disgusted. The internet was too full of misdirection, little things that might have been helpful turning into dead ends, or else there was a fuck-ton of information out there that Merlin knew was ridiculous and completely worthless. People made things up all the time, hoping to gain some kind of tribute or popularity or perhaps from a sense of mean-spiritedness. It was frustrating as hell.

Trying to figure out the real magic from the fake was just taking too long and finally Merlin gave up. He turned back to his many books. At least he knew those were real.

Arthur must have been exhausted because he'd fallen asleep hours ago. Sprawled at Merlin's side on the sofa, Arthur's paws were shivering with a kind of muted energy as if he were running or chasing something in his dreams. Once in a while, he'd give a little whimper, too, but settled as soon as Merlin brushed his hand over Arthur's warm fur. He didn't wake, but even though Merlin thought he might disturb Arthur's sleep, he was reluctant to stop. As he gathered more books to look through, he'd caress the doggy head or feel the silk of floppy ears and it was much reassurance for Merlin as comfort for Arthur.

So he plodded on, looking through manuscripts and scrolls and books dusty with age, looking for anything that could break the curse.

And at three in the morning, Merlin finally stumbled across an old spell, buried in one of his ancient books, that might work.

He didn't want to get too excited, though.

That he'd finally found something was good news and even better news was that he had most of the ingredients already or knew where to find them quickly.

The bad news was that he'd also needed Morgana's blood to counteract the spell.

He just didn't know how he was going to tell Arthur.


A dog's yelp and a loud crash of books and metal woke Merlin. He hadn't realised that he'd fallen asleep, but in an instant, he was on his feet, hands out, ready to use battle magic. Gathering power, flames at his fingertips, as his vision cleared, instead of Morgana, a sulky, guilty-looking Arthur was not-quite-cowering in the corner. It was clear from the chaos that Arthur had been busy.

But as Merlin looked around, Arthur seemed to straighten, lifting his muzzle and frowning up at him. 'Out. Need to go out.'

"Arthur, Morgana might be watching the house. I don't think…."

But Arthur wasn't listening. Instead, he stalked over to the door and began to tear at it. The clicking sounds of his claws against the wood would have been endearing in other circumstances, but Merlin was growing ever more alarmed at Arthur's frantic attempts to get outside.

Inside Merlin's head, Arthur's thoughts seemed just as wild – and somehow less human. 'Out. Find smells. Mark what's mine. Need to pee. Need to shit. Out.'

"You used the loo before." Merlin squatted down next to Arthur, petting him in an attempt to calm him down.

'Can't sit on seat. Tried.' Arthur gave a little sneeze, then growling deep in his throat, glared up at Merlin. 'Out. Too dusty here.' Shaking Merlin's hand off, he started scratching at the door again. 'Out.'

"I'll put papers down in the loo for you and we can open the windows." This was serious. Arthur seemed out of control, every second more agitated. "Arthur, you'll be safer in the flat. I've set up wards so she can't get in but I can't protect you outside, not and fight her off. Morgana…."

'Out. Useless here. Losing… myself.'

When Arthur was that desperate, much as Merlin wanted to keep him safe, he knew that Arthur would find a way to escape. Even as a human, Arthur could be sneaky at times and incredibly stubborn to boot. So instead, Merlin gave in. He needed to gather the rest of the ingredients for the potion anyway, then find Morgana somehow, and he couldn't do it cowering in the flat.

Kneeling down next to Arthur, cupping one furred cheek in his hand, Merlin turned Arthur's face to him. "All right. We'll go out." As Arthur's tail started wagging furiously, clearly pleased, Merlin just sighed. "Let me get what I've made up so far and we'll go shopping for the rest. Okay?"

Arthur seemed to shiver at that, his tail drooping a moment, then he looked up at Merlin and nodded. 'Out. Find Morgana.'

Merlin's grip tightened a moment on Arthur's fur. "Once we've finished at the shop, you have to promise to stay here in the flat until I'm done getting the last ingredient."

'Be with you.' Arthur shook his head, frowned a bit. 'Protect.'

"Arthur, it will be dangerous. Morgana isn't going to let me take what I need so easily. I ummm…" Merlin took a deep breath and let it out. "I need some of her blood."

That little nugget didn't go over well. Growling his displeasure, Arthur tried to jerk out of Merlin's hands, and even as Merlin held on, he could feel Arthur shaking with upset.

'No! Protect!'

"Arthur, I can't be fighting Morgana and worried about you at the same time." Arthur's eyes narrowed again but at least he'd stopped trembling. "I know you want to protect me, you cabbage-head, but you don't have magic, and I can't…. If you come with me, she could use you against me. I'll be so busy making sure you are safe that I'll be vulnerable to her attacks." Merlin gave Arthur's fur a little pull, then smoothed his hand over Arthur's head. "Do you understand?"

Arthur seemed to consider it, then nodded. But he wasn't happy, not if the rigid back and raised fur were any indications. Giving a little sniff, Arthur turned away and began pawing at the door again. 'Out.'


It took longer than Merlin expected to reach the herbalist's shop. Arthur, once out, was eager to explore every smell no matter where it led. It was all Merlin could do to keep him focused. There were times when he had to grab Arthur's furry neck and drag him away from a particularly pungent spot.

If things weren't so dire, Merlin would have found it amusing, even satisfying, to get a little of his own back after all the times Arthur played him for a fool. In the old days, Merlin would have laughed about it, and let Arthur be a dog for a while longer before turning him back. But this wasn't funny anymore. Time was slipping away fast, and with each moment, Arthur seemed less and less human. It was worrisome.

It didn't help that Merlin knew that they were being tracked. Like it or not, it made sense that his flat had been watched. Morgana would have left nothing to chance and she could have easily followed them home. Indeed, Merlin was almost surprised that she hadn't attacked already, trying to catch them in an unguarded moment. But then perhaps she'd known about the flat's protection spells.

But now that they were out in the open, Merlin couldn't look everywhere at once, especially with Arthur being so uncooperative. All Merlin could do was hope he'd be quick enough when the attack did come and that Morgana's plans would fail.

The herbalist's shop created another set of problems. Rosemary & Rue's owner reminded Merlin of Kilgharrah, the smell of brimstone clinging to him, the eyes following Merlin's every move, the sometimes obscure pithy comments about Merlin's latest concoction. But it was comfortable there, too, with old herbs and new, and the sense of magic in the shop.

However, Arthur wasn't happy. He took a stance by the door, his body alert, and steadfastly refused to go in. 'Guard. Protect.'

The idiot was still trying to shield him from harm, even though knowing that Merlin could take down most enemies with a wave of his hand. It warmed Merlin a moment but it wasn't practical. Arthur was too vulnerable and Merlin certainly wasn't going to let him out of his sight.

"I appreciate the thought but we need to stick together. Besides, I can take of myself."

Thinking that maybe a dog collar might have been a good idea after all no matter how much Arthur might hate it, nevertheless Merlin wasn't going to leave him outside. With an annoyed grumble, he took Arthur by the scruff of his neck and dragged him in. Arthur's stiffened legs and sharp bark didn't help.

Luckily, once inside, Arthur seemed to settle down, staring at the doorway, sitting with his back to Merlin, all affront and annoyance. Arthur could be an absolute arse when he was thwarted, but Merlin wasn't about to give in, not this time.

The owner, Gregor Aeddan, was there behind the counter, his wizened face thoughtful as he stared down at Arthur. Then he turned to Merlin. "It would appear that he is not happy with you."

"Wouldn't be the first time. Doesn't know what's good for him." Merlin ignored the blast of inventive insults Arthur sent his way, instead handing his list to Gregor.

Merlin had been to the shop many times, and he'd never come away empty-handed. No matter how obscure the ingredient, the man always seemed to have an endless supply.

Giving Merlin a little nod, Gregor's gaze flicked down to Arthur a moment, his frown deepening with every second. "Quite a handful. A bit of a royal prat… for a dog."

"He's always been a prat. Tripped me up the day I met him." Merlin felt off-key, uncertain of what the old man was saying. He'd always been an odd one but if Merlin didn't know better, he'd say that Gregor knew more than he was letting on.

As Merlin was talking, Gregor turned away, began to get the herbs on Merlin's list, tutting occasionally as he pulled open drawers and measured out precise weights onto waxed paper. But Merlin knew he was also a font of knowledge, having lived in the village for ages. He might know where Morgana was hiding.

Thinking to confirm his suspicions, Merlin said, "Do you know who lives at the old cottage on Roman Road?"

A flash of ancient eyes seemed to judge Merlin a moment, then deliberately, Gregor folded up another herb packet and added it to the pile on the counter. "I assume you have everything else you need - carnation, hydrangea, thistle, wintergreen, agrimony, and most importantly, brimstone." That last seemed odd. How Gregor knew about what he'd used in the mixture was beyond Merlin but it couldn't be a coincidence. "The whole of them would need to be ground into a fine powder, and water added if used for ingestion." His gaze fell on Arthur again, then nodded to Merlin.

"I've ground what I had. Once I have the rest, it shouldn't take too long." Merlin couldn't help but notice that Gregor kept looking at Arthur. He'd never thought the man would be concerned about dogs in his shop, but it didn't matter anyway. They'd be gone soon enough.

"No, not long." As Merlin gathered the packets and put them in his pocket, eager to leave, Gregor gestured toward the back of his shop. "There is one last ingredient. If you could help me retrieve it? These old bones have trouble going up and down stairs these days."

Merlin didn't want to delay for even a second more than he had to, but Gregor gave a shaky sigh, looking suddenly his age or more, and Merlin couldn't say no. "Of course." Turning to Arthur, Merlin was concerned that the clotpoll was still being a total doggy prat with the way he was pointedly ignoring them both, but it couldn't be helped. In a deep, brooking-no-arguments kind of voice, he said, "Arthur, stay here. I won't be long."

When Arthur just glared at him and then let out a sharp sneeze, Merlin gave up. There wasn't much he could do about it anyway and they'd be gone soon enough.

Merlin followed Gregor back into the shop, past rough-edged corners and bags of exotics, only stopping once they were in a smaller room filled with the debris of a life long-lived. But Gregor didn't reach for a final ingredient, just stood there, ancient face soured with unease.

"There is one thing that you've not included in your list. It could be difficult to obtain."

There was only one thing missing on that list, Morgana's blood, but Gregor couldn't know that. Staring at him, uncertain of what the man was implying, Merlin shook his head. "I'll make due."

A moment later, Gregor's hand was clawing at Merlin's sleeve, holding him fast. "She will not give you what you want."

Merlin's thoughts were a sudden chaotic mess, a dozen scenarios clambering for attention, all of them disastrous for Arthur. Morgana, the old man had to be talking about Morgana.

In trying to keep panic at bay, he almost missed what Gregor said next. "Or did you think to take her life's blood so easily?"

Merlin's heart stopped a moment. The old man knew everything. Merlin had been so careful over the years and the old man must have set him up somehow, must have known about Morgana and Arthur even before Merlin did. Gods above, Gregor could have packaged the wrong herbs out on the counter, could have mixed a poison in there somehow. He couldn't be trusted. With anything.

Jerking out of Gregor's grip, Merlin backed up a little, trying to get some distance between them, looking for an escape route. Thrusting out his palms, ready for the attack, Merlin said, "How did you know that?" When Gregor only shook his head and gave a great, exasperated sigh, Merlin had had enough. "Who are you?"

"She is destiny's child. As are you." It was something Kilgharrah might have said long ago, cryptic and unhelpful, but the dragon was not there. He'd died over a thousand years ago, and for just a moment, Merlin felt every year of that loss. But there was no time for old grief. If Gregor Aeddan was in league with Morgana, Merlin had very little time left before it would be too late. As Merlin took a deep breath, waiting for the first strike, in the dark corner, Gregor's eyes seemed magic bright. "Young warlock, the wheel turns and turns again. You cannot escape it."

Absurdly, infuriatingly, Merlin wanted Gregor to stop sounding like Kilgharrah. He didn't need a reminder of everything he'd lost, of everything he was about to lose if he didn't get to Morgana in time.

Angry and frustrated and afraid, Merlin said, "Are you working with Morgana? Are you?"

Gregor's face twisted into a scowl and his old-gold eyes narrowed. In the gloom, if Merlin hadn't known better, he would have said Gregor had grown taller, and that there was a movement of wings against the jumble of the shop.

But as Merlin shook his head trying to rid himself of dangerous delusions, Gregor's voice deepened into revulsion. "That witch? You foolish boy, she is the darkness to your light, the hatred to your love. I would never help her."

Merlin had heard that before, that exact phrase, spoken with the same bottomless loathing. Only then it had been a cave and a dragon and Merlin asking for help once more.

The wings were still there, shadows among shadows, and Gregor's face was narrower, a hint of scales about his eyes, and the room seemed to be rock-walled and cavernous for a moment. It was as if Merlin had stepped back in time.

It couldn't be. But when he reached out with his magic, he could sense the same presence he'd felt so long ago, enormous and profound, feeling a kinship he thought he'd lost forever.

"You can't be… Kilgharrah?"

Gregor gave a little nod, so reminiscent of the past, then a slight smile as if unsure of his reception. Merlin would have none of it, grinning, reaching out and offering his hand. And Gregor took it, grasping arm to arm as comrades do.

When they finally let go, Gregor or rather Kilgharrah said, "I've been watching over you a long time." Merlin couldn't help feeling a bit of relief at that, but Kilgharrah turned solemn a moment later. "The wheel turns… for us all."

As swiftly as the joy of reunion had flooded Merlin, worry took its place. "Help me then. She's transformed Arthur into a dog and I'm not sure the potion will work." Merlin looked away, down at his feet, his arms curled around his chest as if trying to hold the pain inside, as he said, "It's been so long since I've tried anything more than the most rudimentary of magics. And I've been so alone."

A gentle touch on his arm and Merlin looked up again as Kilgharrah said, "Not so alone."

Then Kilgharrah looked away, frowning down at one of the drawers, then pulled out a small vial and handed it to Merlin. "I have something that might help. Water from a still lake, hidden beneath a towered hill. Where it is said a king waits."

Merlin hadn't been back to the lake in hundreds of years. It had been too painful and he'd thought that he'd know if Arthur returned so there had been no need to sit around grieving by a muddy shore. He could do that just as easily by a fireside or snug flat or so he'd thought. How wrong he'd been. Perhaps if he'd waited all those years in the cold and damp, Arthur wouldn't be a dog now, wouldn't be in danger.

But there was no time for recriminations.

"Avalon?" Merlin said. Holding it in his hand, the water in the vial looked plain enough but there was power there, too. He could feel it.

"What is in a name but truth and untruth?" When Merlin opened his mouth to object to yet another cryptic answer, Kilgharrah shook his head. "Danger approaches, young Emrys, and your time for choices. Don't let your past desires blind you to what is. Arthur is the key. He is deliverance or doom."

"Arthur will be trapped in a dog's body for the rest of his life if I don't free him soon."

"But do you trust him?" As he said it, Kilgharrah was staring at him, his yellow-old eyes narrowed as if looking into Merlin's heart.

"With my life." Merlin didn't have to think about it. There was only ever one answer.

Kilgharrah seemed to expect nothing less but he also didn't look happy about it. Stepping closer, his hand hard on Merlin's arm, he said, "And yet, young warlock, he is a Pendragon. They share blood, those two."

Jerking back as if struck, Merlin scowled at Kilgharrah. "Grudges don't become you, old friend. I would have thought vengeance over Uther's betrayal would have burnt out a long time ago."

"A thousand lifetimes would not change my heart." Lines on his face granite-set, his eyes stony, Kilgharrah looked suddenly as unwavering and vengeful as he'd been on the day he'd attacked Camelot.

"Nor mine." Merlin wasn't about to let an old dragon keep him from saving Arthur, no matter how close kin he and Kilgharrah were.

For a moment, they seemed two forces, both immovable, standing on opposite sides of a vast chasm.

But then Kilgharrah nodded, giving another long exasperated sigh as he said, "I have given you my warning, then. Take it as you will."

When Merlin relaxed a little, the old man stepped aside. But as Merlin moved past him, Kilgharrah put one hand on his arm, holding him back. "There is something else. Those of the lake were troubled. The witch had been there before me and we both know she fears you, thinks you are her doom. She wants your death. If she does not use her brother against you, I fear what else she has planned. Merlin, be careful."

For a moment, they stood there, both contemplating the battle ahead, but then as Kilgharrah let go and gestured toward the exit, Merlin said, "Thank you. When I return, I promise we will talk."

As Kilgharrah nodded, Merlin turned back toward the front of the shop. He was planning to grind everything up there and add the Avalon water to it before they left for Morgana's location. It would only take a few moments and it would be easier than doing it all at the last minute.

But it wasn't to be. Arthur wasn't there. The front of the shop was empty, and as Merlin reached out with his mind, there was silence.

"Arthur… Arthur?" He turned to Kilgharrah in horror. "He's gone. Damn him. He's gone after Morgana."