AN: I know it has been over a year since I published my first chapter, but real life issues including health came into the picture and I could not focus on anything for this story. However, now that I am feeling a little better, I hope that updates will become more frequent. I would like to thank everyone that had reviewed and favourited/followed my first little chapter.

Chapter 2: The Blessing of Coventina

Merlin felt as though his entire body was on fire. It was a pain that was so unbearable that he wanted to die because of the agony of it. He longed for the moments when the darkness would take pity on him and would take him away so he could feel nothing, but before that, he had to endure the worst pain imaginable so that he pleaded with the dark to swallow him whole. However, he found that the merciful darkness would only return when he felt as though the fire that seemed to rage within him was about to tear him apart- only then did he feel relief.

Sometimes when he was in the darkness, he would hear voices. Sometimes he heard a woman's sweet voice singing, her voice familiar and filled with sorrow and longing. At other times, he heard multiple people speaking an enchantment around him, but whenever he tried to open his eyes, he found that he was unable to. The people of the dark spoke a language that was not familiar to Merlin, but despite this, he found that he could understand some of what was being spoken. He vaguely remembered Gaius saying that those of the Old Religion spoke in one of the Brittonic languages, but he couldn't remember which one it was. To Merlin's ears, it sounded both haunting and beautiful and made him long for something that he could never remember.

As Merlin listened, he found that he wanted to stay in the dark forever, but a voice always told him that he could not remain here.

You cannot stay here for long, Emrys. The voice would tell him. If you stay for too long, then you will die in the physical world.

But I want to stay here. Merlin would argue. Being here means that I will not feel any pain.

For a few minutes there was silence, but then the voice would come back into Merlin's head. Life is always filled with pain in some way. Sometimes it may fill your whole being. It seeks to destroy and consume you. Yet, with pain there walks another shadow, something that will grab hold and allow you to break away from your hurt and transform it into something that will help push you through.

And because Merlin couldn't find anything to argue with whenever the voice said that he would remain begrudgingly silent.

You are ready to return the realm of the living, Emrys. You must go back so that you can live. The voice said once the last of the enchantment was said and the voices fell silent once more.

Merlin knew that arguing was useless, but that didn't stop him from trying because even though he could not see in the darkness, it was a world that was free of pain and if that meant he had to live an eternity without his sight, then he felt that it was a good trade compared to what waited for him once the darkness lifted.

We will be there with you. The voice assured him as he felt a trickle of water wash over him and the soft pangs of pain returned. We will be watching and waiting, and if your situation is still dire, then we will bring you back.

When the darkness around him finally lifted and the trickle of water released its hold, Merlin heard other noises and voices around him. The sweet song of birds outside the window, the opening of a door and a woman's voice that said something about some freshly made herb broth to help break a fever, the hushed conversations between two men that seemed both familiar and strange to Merlin's ears, and then the sound of a soldier's footstep upon the wooden floor.

At first the voices seemed indistinct and far away, as though Merlin was still immersed in the water that transported him back to this world. Now, he could make out two voices that slowly became clear and he nearly jumped (if he could) when he realised that the owners of those voices were right beside him. One on either side of him. Then something clicked in his mind and he knew exactly who those voices belonged to. It was Arthur and Gaius and suddenly Merlin felt a longing that he could not explain wash over him.

"… His fever is finally breaking. However, he's still in danger if we cannot figure out the curse that Morgause hit him with." Gaius sounded exhausted to the bone as he urged Arthur to lift Merlin's head. A moment later, Merlin felt a bowl at his lips and the gentle voice of his uncle telling him that he needed to swallow the broth before he turned back to Arthur. "Have you and Gwen discovered anything that can help?"

Arthur sighed unhappily. "We've been reading every book on magic that escaped my father's burnings but so far, we have not found anything that Mer… that he's going through."

"You're still not saying his name," said Gaius quietly and Merlin could hear the sadness and heartbreak in his uncle's voice. "He saved your life, Arthur."

"At what cost, though?" Arthur asked, his voice angry- but deep in the prince's voice, there was a pain that seemed to go as deep as the fire that raged throughout Merlin's body. "He's more than just my servant, Gaius. Merlin's been my friend and confidant this entire time, and he sacrificed his life for mine. Now, my friend is going to die because all I could do was just stand by helplessly."

For several moments, there was silence, but then Gaius got heavily to his feet and set down the bowl upon a table near the cot. "Merlin would not have been able to live with himself if it was you that had been hit by this curse."

"Why did he keep this a secret from me, Gaius? I would have protected him from my father. Why did he not trust me?" asked Arthur hoarsely. "I could have taken my entourage far away from my father's lands. My mother's lands belong to me now and my father would not have asked any questions if I were to decide to hold my own court there."

Gaius made a sympathetic noise in the back of his throat and moved closer to Arthur. "If you knew about his magic, there's a possibility that you would have been put in great danger yourself. Not just by your father who would view your knowledge as high treason, but by those that would want to see you dead."

"Like Morgause?" said Arthur tonelessly.

Gaius moved away from the cot and closer to the towering bookcase that contained his medical books. "Morgause is only one among hundreds that would rather see you dead."

"That's always lovely to hear," Arthur muttered sarcastically by Merlin's ear, but then he turned his head towards Gaius. "Do you have any idea of what is going on here? Surely, there's some kind of… of folk tale or something that you have heard that can tell us what Merlin was hit with?"

Merlin heard Gaius remove books from the bookcase, then footsteps as the old physician came towards the bed again. "It's nothing that I've ever seen before, Arthur. The more he uses his magic, the worse his condition becomes. It's as though Morgause's spell is using Merlin's own magic to destroy him."

Silence followed Gaius' words, but then the physician slammed the books on a table causing Arthur to jump and Merlin to wince.

"There was a story told to me when I was a young boy. The druids told stories of a war between the kingdoms of the Old Religion and how sorcerers would hit the enemy…"

A knock at the door interrupted him and Gaius immediately fell silent as Arthur hurriedly got to his feet and went to the door. Merlin felt the old physician come to his bedside and place a protective hand upon his shoulder. He felt a wave of pain wash over him and he wanted to scream in the agony of it. He heard a terse conversation at the door, the sound of a soldier's footstep upon the stone in the corridor, and Arthur's worried breath as he approached the bed.

"It was Balin," Arthur whispered, and Gaius immediately lifted his hand from Merlin's shoulder, but the news of Balin's arrival didn't seem to ease the old physicians worry. "He says that my father is getting suspicious. He only saw Merlin getting hit with whatever Morgause hit him with, but he's not convinced that Merlin is entirely innocent, either. Sir Balin and I have told him that Merlin jumped in the way and got hit by some kind of plague. That is the only thing that is keeping him away."

Gaius' breath hitched. "But that's not all…?"

It took a moment for Arthur to respond, but he finally did when Gaius pressed him.

"Balin said that Morgana was spotted near the border leading into Cendred's kingdom," said Arthur sounding suddenly grave. "I sent out my own spies to try to find her, but it seems that my father has found out about this latest sighting. He wants me to lead a patrol to bring her to safety."

"Then you must go," said Gaius quickly.

"But what if everything you have said about her is correct? What if she's now an ally of Morgause's? I cannot bear the thought of losing two people that mean the world to me!"

"There's nothing you can do about that, Arthur…"

"He'll be fine though? You'll make him better, right?"

Gaius breathed in deeply, counted slowly to ten, then released his breath. "I am trying everything I know that can help. At this point, I do not know if any of my knowledge will do any good."

"But you will not give up? He's got a chance if you do not give up on him." Arthur's voice sounded distant now as though he had moved to the door. "He'll make it. He's got to. From what you have told me, he's a powerful sorcerer…"

"Sometimes the power of someone's magic does not help," said Gaius gently. "There are times when the power of their magic goes against the person. There are times when nothing can be done."

"Promise me, Gaius, that you will do everything you can for him."

Gaius sighed. "You know that I cannot make any promises, Arthur, but I will try everything in my power to ensure that Merlin lives." Gaius hesitated and put his hand on the young prince's arm. "However, you need to also prepare yourself for the worst."

"Please," Arthur begged Gaius in a small voice. "Please do not let Merlin die."

Gaius said something that Merlin could not hear and gently closed the door and pulled the latch over to lock it. A moment later, the old physician returned to Merlin's side and sat heavily into the chair beside the bed. The young sorcerer heard his uncle release a shuddering breath, then felt hot tears land on his forehead as the physician leaned over him. "Why? Why did this happen, Merlin? What good did it possibly do?"

For the first time, Merlin tried to fight off the darkness that tried to envelope him, but the pain was too great for him and he allowed it to swallow him once more.

It was the scent of apple bread baking that made Merlin realize that he wasn't dead. Yet, he didn't know where the smell was coming from, either. His eye lids felt heavy as he took in the smell, trying to breathe in deeply without causing his aching body anymore pain, but without success. He wondered who was baking bread in Gaius' chambers as the old physician had little patience in baking anything, preferring instead to buy his bread from the bakery down the road. It was a smell that brought Merlin back to his childhood, and he had fond memories of watching his mother as she pulled out the golden loaf from the oven and let it cool by the open window.

As Merlin lay with his eyes closed, another smell wafted to his nostrils- the smell of cinnamon. He thought it was odd that his mother was using cinnamon in her bread as it was an expensive spice that was usually prized for its medicinal purposes. However, as Merlin pondered this another thought struck him. He remembered that there were other purposes for cinnamon. Sometimes, the druids would burn cinnamon for cleansing rituals. Other times, cinnamon was burnt on funeral pyres.

His eyes shot open, and he spent a few moments struggling to sit up feeling both disoriented and panicked. The room was dark with just the glow of the large fireplace for light, but the room was empty and cold. Merlin thought it was odd that Gaius was nowhere to be found as it wasn't like him to leave a patient alone until he realized that he was no longer in the chambers that he shared with his mentor. As his eyes grew accustomed to the dark, Merlin felt a wave of trepidation wash over him. The room he was in was unlike any room in the castle of Camelot's, and it felt as though magic permeated through its walls.

It was an unsettling feeling, and one that was exacerbated with the knowledge that somehow Merlin was no longer in Camelot.

He finally managed to push himself up onto his elbow and peered around the room with narrowed eyes. Someone had covered him with a thick woollen blanket, but the colour was nearly impossible to see. He had been placed on a cot close to the fireplace. Upon closer inspection, Merlin realized that runes adorned the mantel and along the sides. He didn't know if it was his imagination or if it was the glow from the fireplace, but he saw that the runes emitted a soft blue glow.

Reluctantly, he tore his gaze away from the runes and looked around. He saw golden bowls floating in the air around him. Confused, he reached out to touch one but withdrew his hand when he realized that the light within them flickered. The scent of cinnamon was strong here, and Merlin realized that someone had set the cinnamon inside the golden bowls and had set them on fire.

On the other side of the room, Merlin saw that there was a table that appeared as though it was used as a work bench. His eyes were immediately drawn to the bottles that sat atop the table. The liquid inside the bottles glowed brightly in the dark. He couldn't think of a single potion that could shine as brightly as these did… as a matter of fact, he couldn't think of any potion that he and Gaius made that did shine like those on this table.

As he gazed upon the potions in wonder, the sound of a door opening, and the soft rustle of a cloak was heard. Merlin's heart beat wildly as his head swivelled around to find that someone had entered the room. It closed the door behind it and slowly walked towards him. Merlin thought of all the magic spells that he could in order to repel any attack that may come, but the power emitting from the figure stopped him. It was rare for Merlin to feel such powerful magic in another person. The only time he came across such power was with the young Mordred and the Great Dragon.

Then right before Merlin's heart was about to burst from his chest, the figure stopped just within the perimeter of light cast by the fire. Its long cloak hung over its body so that he couldn't determine whether his visitor was a man or woman, and the hood covered the figure's head so that it was impossible to see the face. Before he could say a word, the figure raised its hands from the depths of the cloak and lowered the hood. For a moment, Merlin looked on in shocked disbelief, his words lost somewhere in the back of his throat.

"Freya," Merlin breathed, his voice a little more than a whisper as he took in the vision before him. He closed his eyes tightly and reopened them, but Freya was still there, smiling sadly as she gazed down upon him. He immediately tried to sit up in the cot but found that he couldn't get up. He noticed that Freya did not move from where the fringe of light hit her, but he felt her dark eyes watching him closely.

"We don't have much time," said Freya with a backwards glance towards the door. When she spoke again, Merlin realized that her voice sounded off, as though she were speaking to him through a veil of water. "You have already stayed here longer than you should have, but we needed to do anything to help." She stopped speaking for a moment, her fingers playing with the amethyst amulet that hung around her neck. It was a nervous tick that Merlin remembered well from when Freya was alive, but just smiled at the memory and remained silent. "Your magic was destroying you. We saw no other alternative but to bring you here to heal you with our magic."

Merlin frowned. "What do you mean by…"

"The curse that hit you was of the darkest magic," Freya said, a note of urgency in her voice. She stepped closer towards Merlin and gestured to his chest where Morgause's spell had hit him. "As your magic tried to stop the poison from spreading, the curse was eating away at you, forcing your magic to turn against you."

The words hit Merlin as though he had hit a stone wall. He looked down at his chest and gasped at the sight. He shook his head in disbelief, glanced up at Freya wordlessly before he gazed down at his injuries. It appeared as though the skin where the spell had hit him was burnt with thin red welts spreading from that wound to other areas of his chest.

"I… I don't understand," Merlin stammered when he finally glanced up. "What kind of spell can do this amount of damage? What could turn someone's magic against them like this?"

"It was ancient magic that did this. It was used by those of the Old Religion to subdue their enemies. It was used for torture." Freya's eyes seemed to flash with fire as she glanced at Merlin's injuries, and Merlin could feel her magic nearly burst out of her, but she was able to control herself just as they heard the door open, and another figure walked through. Without looking behind her to see who the new visitor was, she leaned as close as she could to Merlin without touching him and started speaking once more. "We managed to get the poison out, but you will be in pain once you wake." She stopped and looked behind her, then spoke again her voice filled with an urgency that startled him. "The worst will happen when you are least prepared. You now have enemies that want to see you dead. You must ready yourself. If not, then all will be lost, and you will fall."

Before he had a chance to respond to this dire warning, Freya had stepped away from the cot and curtsied to the approaching figure before disappearing to tend to the fire. He found that the questions he had wanted to ask Freya had disappeared as he waited nervously for the second figure to come into the light. The figure paused for a moment, seeming to study him in the dim light before muttering an incantation that allowed for a ball of light to hover around the room.

Merlin blinked in the sudden brightness, his hand over his eyes as they adjusted. When Merlin could finally look around to see who it was that had interrupted him and Freya, he found that the visitor was a woman. She was tall and elegant, dressed in a light blue woollen dress with her long blonde hair plaited down her back, and an elaborate circlet that adorned her head. However, it was her eyes that drew Merlin's attention. Outside of Kilgharrah, he had never come across anyone who had the eyes the colour of gold, and it made him wonder if she really was what she portrayed herself to be.

He thought darkly of the Sidhe. They were powerful creatures of magic that could turn into a human, but the woman that stood before him didn't seem to emit the same kind of power. Whoever was before him gave off an aura of wielding older and far powerful magic. Merlin was immediately on his guard. Usually, it was easy for him to determine whether magic was good or bad, but the magic in this place was too strong for him to exactly know what he was dealing with.

"We do not have much time, Emrys," she said, jolting Merlin out of his troubled thoughts and back to the present. He realized belatedly that it was the same voice that spoke to him while he was in the darkness. "It's time for you to get back. You cannot remain in my realm any longer. I have already had to appease the nymphs when they found that I have allowed you to stay here until we were certain you were safe. They do not take kindly to strangers, even if they were brought here by our magic."

Merlin nodded, his throat suddenly felt very dry, and he seemed to have lost the ability to speak. He looked towards Freya who had her back turned to him, her shoulders stiffened as she listened to the words that were said, but she didn't stop tending to the fire, and poked at the logs resolutely.

"I owe you a debt," said Merlin as he turned to face the woman in front of him. "But I do not know who you are to pay you a tribute."

The woman pondered his words carefully for a moment, eyeing him appraisingly before she shook her head. "You must think your words carefully before you say them. In my world, we take promises like this seriously and anyone breaking their promises can suffer severe consequences."

Merlin's heart felt as though it was about to jump out of his chest at her words, but before he could say anything, the woman continued.

"As it were, I brought you here because you needed our help. You do not owe me anything." She moved towards the table and picked up one of the glowing potions and faced him once more. "As I said, we do not have time. The nymphs are getting restless and if you are to remain here for any longer, then you will die in the physical world. You need to drink this quickly, before the sun rises."

Merlin took hold of the bottle as she held it out for him but didn't uncork it. "I don't know who you are. When the time comes, I'd like to repay what you have done for me."

The woman studied him closely, her golden eyes sombre. "Names hold a lot of power, Emrys. To know mine may put you at a disadvantage in the future."

He considered his answer carefully. He knew that she was a powerful sorceress, possibly as ancient as the dawn of the Old Religion itself. If he said the wrong thing, he knew that his words would form a binding contract that not even the most powerful magic could break. Yet, he did owe a great debt to her and her maidens for helping to rid his body of a poison that Gaius could not.

"A name only has as much power as you give it," said Merlin finally. "The power a person wields has nothing to do with a name, but through their actions and intent."

She considered his words thoughtfully. "You speak well and true, but your words are spoken only through the lens of a human. But very well, if you wish to have my name, then you shall have it. Just remember that the worlds that you and I are from are vastly different. A name may have no power where you are from, but to my world, there are those that will use a name as though it were a weapon." She paused long enough to look out the window to where the sky was beginning to get light, then turned back to Merlin. "My name is Coventina. You have my blessing to leave my realm, but you must drink quickly if you are to leave. Once the sun breaks through the horizon it will be too late."

Merlin quickly uncorked the bottle and drank the liquid. It made him feel warm and weak, and he had to lay back down on the cot. As he felt the darkness descend upon him and the familiar trickle of water wash over him, the last thing Merlin saw before everything went black was Freya's face as she leaned over him to say goodbye.

Note: Coventina is the name of a Romano-British goddess of wells and springs. I imagine that as a river goddess or at least a goddess of water, that she had a lot of power behind her name. However, for my little story, I took a bit of a creative licence in my portrayal of this goddess. Not much seems to be known about her outside of the bare minimum of information.