Author's Note: The name of the chapter means "attacked by disease". It was the best I could find.

I am torn by the response the last chapter got. On the one hand, I am so glad you guys feel so deeply about Merlin and his wellbeing. On the other hand, calm down people, there is no need to yell at me, to be unkind. It was just a little dramatic re-entry of the Evil Subplot.

Arthur hated feeling like a useless idiot.

There was no monster to slay, no army to fight, no villain to vanquish, and there was nothing Arthur could do. He watched as Merlin and Gaius dashed about Gaius' workroom, waiting for them to tell him what he could do. They didn't know what had happened, and were trying to figure it out. Hunith was barely conscious, and Arthur ended up holding back her hair as she puked weakly.

As he changed the wet cloth on Hunith's forehead, Arthur stared at Merlin. He had been crying for the past twenty minutes, ever since they had brought her in, sobbing wretchedly like a lost child. But now his eyes held a fearsome intensity, a potent will to bear down and fight this horror. He was no longer a boy crying for his mother, he was a man at war.

Arthur wondered how many times Merlin had done this before, looked at loved ones he had had to say goodbye to. He hoped and prayed that they wouldn't have to say goodbye to Hunith.

"Belladonna," Gaius said after a few tense seconds of staring at the rash that was spreading on Hunith's chest, and Merlin finally broke down.

Arthur watched wretchedly as Merlin stumbled backwards, his panic returning, his eyes shifting wildly from Gaius to Hunith and back. He didn't cry, he just looked... tired, Arthur guessed the word was. His face lost all animation, and he slumped like a puppet whose strings had been cut. Exhaustion, bone deep and fathomless, was etched on his face. He now looked like a man who had seen too much at war, who had lost too much already, and couldn't believe he was being asked to sacrifice more.

Uncaring of Gaius' presence, Arthur stepped forward and hugged Merlin. Suddenly, Merlin was wrapped all around him, his face in the crook of Arthur's neck, his sobbing breaths tickling Arthur's ear. Arthur said nothing, for there was nothing to be said. His heart broke a little when he heard Merlin speak.

"Not her," Merlin whispered into his hair. "Please, not my mum, Arthur. I can't afford to lose her too..." Realizing he was clinging, Merlin stiffened, but Arthur refused to let him go. Here was something he could do for Merlin. Here was something he could give, support and a bit of strength. Merlin struggled mildly, then slumped again. His words were angry when he spat them out. "She doesn't deserve this," he said. Arthur realised he was talking to Gaius over his shoulder. "There was no reason to poison her. She is just a simple country woman. She wasn't supposed to be a part of all this. She isn't even supposed to be here."

"Sit down, Merlin," said Gaius from behind Arthur. "She isn't dead yet, my boy."

"She will be," said Merlin as Arthur helped him collapsed onto a bench. The tears were starting to return, the anger drained. "She will be, Gaius, unless-"

"Unless you pull the poison out of her."

Arthur decided he needed to sit down too. This was outrageous. "What?"

"The poison is in her blood now, Arthur," said Gaius. "I can do nothing now, but maybe Merlin can purge her body somehow."

"Yes," said Merlin before Arthur could ask for an explanation. "I will. Just tell me what to do, and I will do it. Just tell me, Gaius. Please."

Gaius' eyebrow climbed high. "I don't know any way to do something like this, Merlin. No one has ever done anything like this before. Medical magic is spells and potions. We do not use force against the body, do not use anything intrusive. The druids have explicitly warned against it." He stared at Arthur. "But you have done something similar before."

Merlin's dull, lifeless eyes were fixed on the weak form of his mother on the cot. He looked like he was barely listening, but he still asked the question Arthur was thinking of. "When?"

"You started the king's heart once it stopped, Merlin." He ignored Arthur's panicked sputtering. "You knew what was wrong. You knew what to do, then, without me telling you anything. Try to purify your mother's blood, see if you can."

Now Merlin turned his head to look at Gaius. "What if I end up doing something terrible?"

Gaius said nothing. They all knew that Hunith would die regardless, and no one was cruel enough to say any of that out loud.

Gwaine and Lancelot entered the room with news before Merlin could decide. Gwaine strode straight to Merlin and enveloped him in a hug-the big all-consuming kind, which surrounds you and helps you not think.

"There was nothing in the wine, Your Majesty," said Lancelot with a slight bow. "It has been four hours since we fed it to the dogs, and they are fine."

Arthur frowned. "You are sure?"

Lancelot gave him a look. "You drank the same wine, my Lord. You seem fine."

Merlin seemed to suddenly realize that Arthur had, in fact, drank the same wine as his dying mother. He struggled out of Gwaine's hold to stumble up to Arthur, the defeated look on his face giving way to panicking again, and started to peer into his king's eyelids. "Don't you feel sick?" he demanded. "Tell me you are fine, Arthur."

"I am fine, Merlin," repeated Arthur dutifully. "But the wine did taste a little too… bitter?"

Merlin, finally satisfied that Arthur was fine, walked back to Hunith's bedside. "Mum?" he said, his voice quivering. "Can you hear me?" He waited for weak mumble, for the eyes to flutter. "I am going to try to fix you, mum. Gaius says… Gaius says I can do it. I can remove the poison. I am going to try, mum." Tears leaked from his eyes, and he looked back at Gaius with a wretched expression, waiting for some sign, some confirmation that this was okay.

For a while, nobody moved. Arthur didn't know what to think, or how to feel. His mind felt numb with worry, not just for Hunith but for Merlin too, and for one eternal second he wondered how Merlin would feel if Hunith died due to his magic. Then he shook his head, took a deep breath, and summoned up all the faith he had in Merlin. His friend would not fail.

Then Gaius nodded, and Merlin turned to stare at his mother. Neither Gwaine nor Lancelot left. The poison could be tracked later, but right now Merlin needed his friends. Arthur moved closer to Merlin without even thinking.

Merlin gingerly placed his cupped hands on his mother's chest, his gaze intent, his jaw set. Arthur felt the power radiating off of his manservant almost as soon as Merlin began to chant in the old tongue. He could feel Merlin's desperation, his sheer desperation, and the need to fix this. He could also feel Merlin's frantic search for something. When Gwaine gasped behind him, Arthur knew that they were all feeling it, that Merlin was simply proclaiming his feelings to Hunith's body, willing it to cooperate.

It took time, but Merlin's eyes remained a molten gold, and his voice remained strong. "Ic ácnyssan!" said Merlin, and Arthur realized Merlin wasn't asking Hunith's body to cooperate, he was demanding cooperation.

And he got it.

Hunith started to choke on nothing, and Gaius and Lancelot both moved forward, but Merlin waved them back, his words never faltering. Both of them moved away. Arthur stared at the dark, almost blackened cough that started to ooze out of Hunith's mouth, propelled by her hacking cough, and he knew what Merlin was doing. Merlin was dragging the poison out of her. They let him work. The only sounds in the workroom were the coughing and the chanting of mother and son, and when it was over, Hunith closed her eyes, exhaled, and went to sleep.

Merlin staggered backward, slumped in complete, bone-deep exhaustion. Lancelot caught him and guided him to the bench, and Arthur stroked his hair. Gaius wiped the blackened sludge off of Hunith and started to check her pupils.

"Her breathing is strong," said Gaius after a while. He was listening to her heart. "Her heart is beating fine now. She will be okay, Merlin. Well done."

Merlin had turned his face to hide it in Arthur's side, and he didn't say anything for a while. Arthur felt him take a deep breath. When Merlin finally let go of Arthur, he looked determined, his fierceness highlighted by the dried tear tracks on his cheeks.

"Bring me the utensils," he said to Gwaine. "Bring me all that remains of dinner."

Arthur was getting addicted to the shining gold of Merlin's magic. It was not just in his eyes when he did some remarkable feat, it was in fact all around him in a certain way. The magic was a part of him, and Arthur finally understood what it was about Merlin that had first intrigued him.

Currently, Merlin's hands were spread over the table, broadly encompassing all the dirty utensils from their dinner, the leftover meat and the wine. He had closed his eyes, but they had flared gold before he did.

His hand moved, and he blindly grabbed two goblets. One bigger than the other, and Arthur realized that the bigger one was his.

"They were tampered with," said Merlin, opening his eyes. "They were both laced. The food is fine-"

"So am I, Merlin," said Arthur. "Are you telling me I am immune to poison."

"It wasn't poison," said Merlin. "Mum was poisoned. You, on the other hand, were simply given Vervain."

"Vervain?" said Arthur, turning to look questioningly at Gaius. "Why the hell would-"

"Maybe someone wishing your goodwill," said Gaius. His own voice carried doubt over the ridiculous theory. "Vervain is harmless, Your Grace. It is good for you. It heals and soothes wounds, it is a cure for headaches-"

"And it breaks enchantments," said Merlin. He looked at Arthur, his face grim. "It defends against curses. It stops people, even magical people, from doing you harm."

"What does that mean?" muttered Gwaine.

"It means someone thinks Merlin has enchanted Arthur," said Lancelot, "and they are willing to do whatever they can to stop him."

"Merlin," said Arthur with dawning horror. "You were meant to drink from that cup."