DISCLAIMER: Don't own it!
A/N: Super thanks to everyone, I'm glad you enjoyed ch3! Ultra-mention goes to Sam, sword, JustSmileAndBeHappy, llLethell, LanaLegolas, talk-ape, ruby890, natcel, ReadingRaven019, Shoot4theStars, lilyflower1345, SereneMayhem, Mika271170, CeciACelosia, TeganL74, Enzonia, IndiaMoore, sarajm, YaoiIsMyDrug.23, Bundibird, and the anonymous guest.
CHAPTER FOUR
"What is that?" Elyan asked, pointing at the picture in the book – an ink sketch of a serpent-like creature. It had the hood of a cobra, long fangs protruding from its mouth and two small wings attached to its scaly, legless body. He had never seen such a creature before.
Gaius grimaced. "It is called a kholera. I had thought they were long extinct... where Morgana managed to find one is beyond me."
"But what does it do?" Merlin questioned, shifting to get a better look at the book.
"The venom of this creature, when mixed with certain other chemicals, can cause an imbalance of humours in the body. An excess of choler, or yellow bile, can impact on a person's behaviour and habits," Gaius explained. "Choler is associated with an irritable and easily angered temperament. When combined with magic this venom could easily produce the effects we've seen in Arthur."
"So we've found it then," Merlin said hopefully.
Gaius shook his head. "Not quite, I'm afraid... we still need to know which spell Morgana used to produce such potent effects."
"How will you find that?" Elyan asked, and suddenly both Gaius and Merlin looked a bit shifty.
"We'll find a way," was Gaius' rather meaningless response. "Now, Elyan, you should rest. I'm still worried about that head injury of yours."
"You said it was healing nicely."
"Well, yes, but we don't want you under too much strain... just in case."
Elyan rolled his eyes, knowing when he was not wanted. "Alright. One last thing – what's so bad about this... coleric?"
"Kholera," Gaius corrected, looking worried again. "The ingredients needed to counteract the poison are difficult to find... and if too much time passes, the body can adjust to the imbalance of humours and the effects may become permanent."
Merlin blanched so violently at this last statement that Elyan was seriously worried he would faint.
"How much time do we have?" the servant asked hoarsely, and Gaius shook his head.
"I can't tell, not without knowing how large a dose of the venom Morgana gave him," he said.
"How did she give it to him?" Elyan mused. "He hasn't been out of Camelot in weeks."
"Even within Camelot Morgana has agents," Gaius replied ominously, sharing a look with Merlin that Elyan didn't quite understand. Deciding to let them keep their secrets, he nodded, standing.
"I'll leave you to it, then... let me know if you need any help," he added as he left.
"Thank you Elyan," Gaius replied absently, already bending over the book with Merlin.
As soon as the door shut behind Elyan Merlin sat heavily in a chair and tried very hard not to start hyperventilating.
"You need to calm down," Gaius told him, which Merlin thought was rather unhelpful. Oh, y'know, just keep calm and carry on when every moment Arthur was in danger of being stuck like this for, well, ever.
"We need to reverse this," Merlin said flatly, resting his elbows on the table. "What ingredients do we need for the anti-venom?"
"Most of the chemical components I can acquire from the apothecary if I don't have them already. It's just these two that will be difficult to find." Gaius tapped the page with one gnarled finger. "This flower grows only in the mountains far north of here, on the border of Lot's kingdom."
Merlin tilted his head. "I might have a way to get that," he said, thinking of Kilgharrah. The dragon might not be happy at being used as a courier so soon after he'd already done Merlin one favour, but desperate times called for desperate measures.
Gaius blinked at him. "Alright then," he said. "We'll also need a sample of Arthur's fevered blood."
"Fevered?" Merlin inquired. "As in, we'll have to make him ill?"
Gaius shook his head. "I believe it's metaphorical – the fever of rage, the symptom of a choleric."
"We have to make Arthur angry," Merlin said flatly. "And then get some of his blood."
"Well, I said it wouldn't be easy," Gaius replied. He shut the book with a weary sigh. "But you'll have to do it somehow."
"Oh right, yeah, I'll have to do it," Merlin muttered a bit petulantly, then sighed. He'd never been one to shy away from the hard tasks required by his destiny. "I'll get it for you. As for the spell..."
"There should be something in your book about how to detect enchantments cast by other magic users," Gaius informed him. "Whatever it is, you'll have to make sure you stay in Arthur's employment so you can get close to him."
Merlin grimaced, acknowledging that right now Arthur firing him was a distinct possibility. And speaking of firing...
"What time is it?!" he suddenly realised, leaping up from his seat and racing to the door. "I was meant to be at the training field!"
"Calm down, you're not late yet," Gaius told him. "But you'd best hurry. And Merlin!" he called after his apprentice as he began to leave.
Merlin turned to look at him, and Gaius frowned slightly, his gaze flickering down to Merlin's arm before returning to his face.
"Try not to provoke him," Gaius said quietly, and Merlin gave a solemn nod before dashing out.
Fortunately for Merlin, Arthur had been delayed in the meeting he was in, so Merlin managed to arrive there before him. A few of the knights greeted him with waves or smiles, and he managed some smiles back, absently noticed that most of the soldiers looked rather unhappy. He supposed those who weren't aware Arthur was under an enchantment must be rather put out by his recent behaviour.
"Merlin!" Leon was striding over to him, looking worried. He made as if to clap a hand down on Merlin's shoulder and the servant couldn't help automatically startling back. Arthur's violent behaviour of late had left him jumpy and skitterish. Leon gazed at him in concern before drawing his hand away.
"Are you and Gaius any closer to a cure?" he asked quietly. "He's getting worse. Demanding outlandish things of the farmers... I think some of them mean to go on strike. There's already mutterings among the nobles about his behaviour. Morgana's plan is working like a charm... pun not intended."
"We know how to make part of the cure," Merlin told him. "It shouldn't be long now..." he trailed off as he saw Arthur approaching over Leon's shoulder. George was with him, carrying his armour and weapons, somehow managing not to drop things all over the place. Merlin honestly didn't know how he did it; it was as though he had some sort of superhuman serving powers.
"Right men," Arthur said, rubbing his hands together. He looked around as his knights gathered from their various spots around the field, Percival moving over to Leon and Merlin from where he'd been standing nearby sharpening his sword.
"We're going to break off into two groups. Leon, you'll work on drills with half the men. The rest of us will pair off and work on breaking through a shield defence." Arthur began dividing the knights into two groups. Merlin looked around and frowned.
"Where's Gwaine?"
Leon looked to Percival, who shrugged.
"I haven't seen him all day," he replied, "I figured he was out on patrol or maybe in the tavern."
Merlin groaned. Surely Gwaine wouldn't be so stupid as to spend too much time in the tavern and risk setting Arthur off in this state.
Arthur now turning towards them, Leon gave Merlin a final worried glance before walking off to begin training, Percival trailing along behind him. George had helped Arthur into his armour in record time and was now being dismissed, bowing three times as he left. Merlin thought he must be quite dizzy from all the bobbing up and down.
Arthur stalked over to Merlin and thrust a shield into his arms. Merlin caught it automatically. Arthur didn't seem particularly bothered by Gwaine's absence and Merlin's alarm bells, which had been getting a lot of exercise lately, began to ring frantically.
"Um, sire, may I ask something?" he ventured cautiously.
"Ask away, Merlin," Arthur replied with a sneer. "I imagine you must have many questions, being as ignorant and empty-headed as you are."
Merlin ignored the jibe. "Where is Sir Gwaine?" he inquired, hoping that Arthur had merely sent him off to do something and that he wasn't getting his friend in trouble by revealing his absence.
Arthur didn't bat an eyelid. "Gwaine will not be joining us for training today," he replied smoothly.
Merlin wasn't reassured. "Is he out on patrol?" he asked.
"I've never met such a nosey parker," Arthur snapped. "What he's doing is none of your business. Unless there's something you'd like to tell me," he added thoughtfully, narrowing his eyes at the servant.
Merlin had no idea what he was talking about. "Well, you did say I could ask away," was all he came out with, which he promptly realised was completely the wrong thing to say as Arthur slapped him roughly on the back of the head.
"We really must work on this whole talking back thing, Merlin," the king hissed. "You know, there hasn't been a flogging in quite some time. I don't want my royal flagellator to get out of shape, do I?"
Merlin's blood ran cold. The last time someone had been publicly whipped it had been a soldier who had deserted from Uther's army. It was a horrific sight, especially afterwards when the man was carried groaning into Gaius' workroom where Merlin had to clean the bloody streaks on his back. A horrible infection had set in days later and the man had died in agony.
Arthur was still looking at him expectantly and Merlin dropped his gaze, mumbling an apology, hating Morgana and trying his hardest not to hate Arthur. It's not his fault. He can't control it, he repeated to himself for the hundredth time that day.
Arthur gave a grunt of satisfaction before raising his sword and beginning his drills. Merlin raised the shield in silence, wincing as every blow jarred his bruised wrist. He felt utterly miserable, knowing that later that day he'd have to trek all the way out again to call the dragon, then walk back, and he still had to muck out the stables for Arthur or else face the consequences, and on top of all that Gwaine had now mysteriously vanished.
Life, Merlin decided, was royally against him.
Gaius rubbed his eyes as the writing on the page blurred in front of him. He hadn't realised so much time had passed since he started reading up on how to mix the antidote to the kholera venom. He was exhausted – and hungry, he realised as his stomach let out a rather absurd noise, but Merlin wasn't back yet and he didn't want to start eating without him.
There was a knock at the door, making him jump slightly.
"Come in!" Gaius called, and Leon and Percival entered.
"Gaius," Leon said with a nod of greeting. He looked tired, dark shadows under his eyes, shoulders slumped under the thin shirt he wore in place of armour. It seemed both knights were off duty for the day – later than usual, as the enchanted Arthur was working everyone in his employment to full capacity.
"Leon," Gaius replied. "Percival." Percival gave him a smile and moved to sit by the fire.
"Where's Merlin?" Leon asked, looking around.
"Cleaning out the stables. He had to go... gather some things for me in the woods earlier," Gaius said. Merlin had told him that they'd have the flower by tomorrow, which was one good thing, at least.
Leon sighed, rubbing a hand over his beard. "The situation in the court is bad. Nobles are leaving left right and centre, three fiefs have refused to obey Arthur's demands and the grape farmers are on the verge of striking."
"We'll have a cure soon," Gaius reassured him.
Leon sighed again. "That's not entirely why we came. Have you seen Gwaine at all?"
"Not since yesterday," Gaius replied with a frown.
Leon and Percival exchanged a glance. Gaius' eyebrow shot up in alarm.
"Why, what is it?" he inquired, worried.
"We haven't seen him all day," Percival said. "Merlin asked Arthur where he was but he wouldn't say. As far as the other knights know he isn't out on an assignment, either."
"Have you checked the taverns?"
"Of course we've checked the taverns," Leon replied. He was starting to look seriously stressed, and Gaius momentarily considered giving him the tonic he'd been going to give Arthur back when this all started.
The door opened then, and Merlin staggered in and slumped down on the nearest chair. He threw his jacket at the cloak rack and missed, the garment dropping to the floor.
"You alright?" Percival asked him, and Merlin gave a tired nod.
"Just exhausted," he replied with a yawn, reaching up to loosen his neckerchief. "I swear Arthur's horses produce more dung than any other animal in Camelot. I don't know what he feeds them."
"You didn't happen to see Gwaine around out there, did you?" Percival asked, not sounding very hopeful.
Merlin shook his head, face pinching with worry. "You still haven't found him?"
Both knights shook their heads. Gaius let out a worried sigh.
"We'll have the flower soon; Merlin just needs to get us the blood."
"The blood?" Leon asked in alarm. "The sound of that concerns me."
"Nothing to worry about, we just need to get Arthur angry and then somehow extract a bit of his bodily sanguine," Merlin muttered. He tipped his chair back on its hind legs but in his tired state managed to overbalance and crash to the floor.
"Ow," he said, after a moment of stunned silence.
Percival moved over to help him up. Leon appeared deep in thought, when suddenly he raised a finger.
"Got it!" he declared. "He has a council meeting early tomorrow morning – that's when messenger birds usually arrive and it's best to deal with them as quickly as possible. I'll tell him the grape farmers are refusing to work; that'll send him into a rage. Then he'll come back to his chambers for breakfast and you can... well, I don't know how you're going to get him to start bleeding all over the place."
"I'll think of something," Merlin replied grimly.
Gaius nodded. "It's a good plan. Better that Arthur is angry from council sessions and not because Merlin's deliberately provoked him." The unspoken that way he's less likely to beat you up hung in the air around them.
Merlin shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah, well... as long as no one's getting flogged, I'm good with the plan," he joked weakly, but it fell flat as the three older men adopted grim expressions.
There was a rather awkward pause before Leon finally stood, clapping his hands together briskly.
"Well! We should all get some rest. If Gwaine's still not around tomorrow morning I'll talk to Agravaine about it."
Gaius and Merlin exchanged displeased looks, but there was nothing much they could do to prevent that. The two knights exited, and the rest of the night was spent in rather dismal silence.
Merlin was really getting sick of walking out to this clearing. In order to make the journey and get back in time to serve Arthur breakfast, he had had to wake up three hours before dawn. It was pitch black and he'd fallen down the stairs and banged his knee, and his legs were already aching. Had already been aching from the walk the day before, not to mention the new bruises he'd acquired over his arms from Arthur's rigorous training session. And his wrist still hurt when he moved it too quickly.
Yes, there was certainly a lot to complain about this morning.
He didn't need to call Kilgharrah; the dragon was already waiting for him. The flower lay on the ground in front of him in a pool of dragon saliva, looking rather sad and wilted. It was a quite horrid looking flower – bright orange and covered in little black spots. Not the most attractive blossom, to be sure.
"Thank you," Merlin said, mustering a tired smile as he bent and picked up the flower, wrapping it in his handkerchief.
Kilgharrah grunted, breath misting in the cold dawn air. "You know how to break the enchantment, then?"
"Working on it," Merlin replied. His legs finally protested and gave out, and he sat heavily on the ground in a rather undignified manner. Kilgharrah snorted at him in concern and Merlin wafted mist out of his face.
"Do not let this event form a rift between you and Arthur," Kilgharrah warned suddenly.
Easy for you to say, Merlin thought rather sourly. The dragon proceeded to do his usual blather about destiny, this time using a rather strange and disturbing vegetable analogy (intertwined roots beneath the soil! No euphemism intended... or at least, Merlin hoped not) and Merlin found himself zoning out. He felt vaguely guilty for not listening to the wise dragon's well-intentioned advice, but he was simply too tired to even think about destiny right now.
Finally Kilgharrah huffed at him, obviously realising his words were falling on deaf ears.
"Take care of yourself, young warlock," were his parting words before he turned and flew off, wheeling once in the sky above before vanishing into the distance.
Merlin rose, wincing as his legs tingled, the limbs having gone to sleep. He wearily began the long walk back, tiredly hoping that this whole mess would be cleared up before it could give him a stomach ulcer.
The cooks had garnished Arthur's breakfast with cherries, which were out of season, obviously aiming to cheer him up. Had these been normal circumstances, Merlin would have nicked one of the fruits to try, but as it was he was too terrified of Arthur's wrath to even touch his meal, leaving it in the centre of the table before moving to clean up the room, waiting for the king to come in.
Angry, stomping footsteps foretold Arthur's arrival moments before the door burst open, crashing against the far wall and causing Merlin to jump nearly out of his skin, even though he was expecting the noise.
Whatever Leon had told Arthur, it had obviously worked – not that it took much to rile the king up nowadays. He swept a goblet off the table with a loud crash, then threw a plate at the wall.
"Those bloody peasants!" he roared. Merlin stood by the wall and kept his eyes trained on the floor, hating the way his heart was racing and his hands beginning to shake slightly. Damn you, Morgana, he thought, because it was a cruel, cruel thing, to make the sight of his own best friend inspire fear in him.
Arthur sat heavily at the table and Merlin crept forward to shut the door gently and pick up the fallen crockery, wiping it with a dishcloth before setting it back on the table.
"Breakfast, sire?" he asked in nearly a whisper. Arthur was rubbing his temples again, obviously in the grip of a splitting headache, and Merlin felt a stab of sympathy for him. He made a mental note to ask Gaius for a migraine tonic later on.
"Of course I want breakfast you moron, I haven't eaten all morning," Arthur growled.
Merlin didn't react to his harsh tone, just set out the food in front of him and passed him a knife. He went to make the bed, watching from the corner of his eye as Arthur began to eat, muttering all the while about stubborn commoners and lost export revenue.
Finally, as Arthur moved to spear a piece of cheese, Merlin looked up and whispered a spell, his eyes flashing briefly golden. There was a pained yell as the knife slipped and sliced into Arthur's hand. Merlin winced at his miscalculation – he'd intended it to cut Arthur's fingers a little, not slash him across the palm.
"Merlin!" Arthur hollered, as though this was his servant's fault somehow – well, it kind of was, but he didn't know that.
"Arth- sire! Are you alright?" Merlin rushed forward, brandishing his hankie, and pressed it against the wound, blood quickly soaking through the thin fabric. The next thing he knew, Arthur was shoving him roughly backwards. He tripped over his own feet and landed on his backside on the floor.
Arthur clutched his injured hand, livid with rage.
"Don't touch me, you idiot! You'll just make it worse," he snarled, snatching up a napkin and clenching his fist around it, blood already smearing the tablecloth and spattering onto the floor. Merlin scrambled to his feet.
"Don't clench your muscles like that," he told the king, "you should hold your hand above your head."
"Did I ask for your worthless opinion?" Arthur hissed, lashing out at him. The slap caught Merlin across the face. It wouldn't have been so bad if Arthur hadn't still been wearing his heavy signet ring from the earlier meeting. The metal cut Merlin across the lip and he tasted blood, falling to the floor again and grazing his palms against the floorboards.
"Umph," was all he could manage, shocked from the pain and the suddenness of Arthur's violent reaction. He stayed down, wiping his mouth on the back of his sleeve, but it seemed Arthur wasn't finished yet. A boot drove into Merlin's side, knocking him flat to the ground as he yelped in surprise.
"I should have you whipped. I really should," Arthur spat at him, and Merlin flinched, looking away, remaining curled on the floor. His heart was pounding, he could feel it in his chest, his ears, the tips of his fingers. He focused on the drip-drip-drip of blood from Arthur's hand to the floor. It was oddly mesmerising.
"Get up and clean up this mess," Arthur finally said, coldly, turning away to wash his hand in the water basin.
Merlin scrambled to his feet, stumbling as he nearly tripped. He rubbed his side, which felt like it was already starting to bruise. He cleaned up in silence, grimacing at the stark red bloodstains on the white tablecloth. Those wouldn't be coming out any time soon.
"Pass me a bandage," Arthur ordered after a bit, and Merlin cast about for a medicine box – one was usually kept in each of the royal bedchambers, in case of emergency. He found it quickly and gingerly handed a roll of bandages over, snatching his fingers back when they brushed Arthur's hand as if the contact burned.
Arthur seemed to be struggling to tie the bandage one-handed, but Merlin didn't particularly want to offer to help. He returned to his earlier chores, settling down to polish Arthur's shoes as the king sat down to finish his breakfast.
An uneasy calm settled over the room.
Merlin's lip stung. He prodded at it with his tongue and cringed as he accidentally opened the wound again. It was getting harder and harder, he realised with dismay, to separate Arthur's actions from Arthur himself. After three days with this new, cruel king, he found himself looking back on memories of happier times with almost a sense of hopelessness and regret. And how long ago had it been since he sat on this same floor, polishing boots, with an Arthur who sat down next to him and smiled and asked if he was alright, and apologised for throwing water over him (well, if one could call it an apology, considering it consisted more of playful roughhousing than words of regret)?
"Where were you yesterday?" Arthur asked suddenly.
Merlin looked up in surprise. "Here in Camelot," he replied, and Arthur threw a cup at him. Merlin ducked and it hit the wall behind him.
"Don't even attempt to lie to me," Arthur said coldly. "I had my guards monitoring all the exits and reporting who went in or out. Two hours after noon you left via the west gate and didn't return for some time. Where were you?"
Since he could hardly respond with 'visiting a dragon to save you, you prat', Merlin replied with his favourite excuse: "Picking herbs for Gaius."
"Why would you lie about that?" Arthur pointed out. He sounded strangely calm, a far cry from his earlier erratic behaviour. Somehow it was even more terrifying. "I think, Merlin, that you are hiding something from me."
Merlin swallowed.
"I think you may be plotting against me."
And okay, didn't expect that one. Merlin blinked a few times and croaked out, "Sire, I assure you, I have nothing but the utmost loyalty."
"My uncle has already reported to me that several people who I thought were close friends of mine were secretly working towards my downfall," Arthur said cooly, and Merlin had a sudden sinking feeling. "Of course, I have yet to elicit confessions from them, but it's only a matter of time."
Merlin was struck by the parallels he was drawing between Arthur's current behaviour and the late king's in regard to magic – Uther had obviously been a choleric. He wondered if excessive paranoia was another side effect of the enchantment. Most of his thoughts, however, were occupied with a whirling stream of oh no, oh no, what has he done with Gwaine?
"So let me tell you something, Merlin," Arthur finally said, sucking cherry juice from his fingertips. "I have my eye on you. And if I see something I don't like... well, let's just say that the punishment for treason is quite severe."
Merlin found it very difficult to swallow, as all the saliva in his mouth seemed to have spontaneously evaporated. As it was, he nodded, stiffly, and slowly put the boots down.
Arthur chose that moment to rise, give Merlin one last intense stare, and stalk out, snatching his jacket along the way. Merlin remained seated on the floor and as soon as the door swung shut behind Arthur, he indulged in a brief moment of panic, drawing his knees up to his chest and wrapping trembling arms around them as he breathed in and out raggedly.
It took him almost five minutes to calm down, a fact which he tried not to dwell on as he rose. He forced himself to act normally, taking the plates back to the kitchen and forcing a smile for the cook. It dropped off his face as he hurried back towards Gaius' chambers, hand going to the bloodied handkerchief in his pocket.
They had to break this enchantment. Now.
A/N: Fun fact! Cholera is Latin for diarrhea. Which is why it's associated with intestinal disease. I'm sure you all feel much enlightened. xD
IMPORTANT AND POSSIBLY STUPID QUESTION: I feel like an ultimate fail for asking this, but I'm unable to rewatch the show right now and I can't remember - does Gaius know the dragon is still alive and that Merlin talks to it throughout seasons 3-4? I've been dodging bullets with it so far but I always feel like I'm going in circles with the dragon bits.
Thanks for reading, reviews and constructive criticism are greatly appreciated!