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Chapter 7

Merlin sat next to Gwaine, who was propped up against one of the ruins's dilapidated walls, and unwrapped the bandage from his hand. He smiled in relief; the gray veins were fully gone. It looked like Gwaine was finally cured from the poison. He was still wrung out from the ordeal, though, but in much better shape than he had been.

Gwaine was watching Merlin carefully, which Merlin tried not to fidget under. The revelation of his magic had spread among most of the knights by now, though there hadn't been much talk of it. Not to him, anyway. There'd been some whispers between each other or with Arthur, and Merlin had done his best to ignore it. Lancelot had given him encouraging looks when he was awake, but he was still fighting the poison and was asleep more often than not.

"I don't care that you have magic, you know," Gwaine spoke up.

Merlin shot his gaze up in surprise. "You don't?"

Gwaine gave a half shrug. "I suppose I've always suspected, on some level. On that bridge with the dwarf who said Strength and Magic had come, I know I wasn't the Magic."

Merlin shifted slightly. "You never tried to find out for sure?"

Gwaine shrugged his eyebrows, too exhausted to move much more than that. "It wouldn't have changed anything. And I figured if you wanted me to know, you would have told me."

"I did want to tell you," Merlin insisted. "It just…I've been hiding my whole life. The few people who did know about my magic weren't because I told them but because I got caught. I'm just lucky they didn't turn me in."

"Your friends stand beside you, Merlin," Gwaine said seriously. He flicked a glance at Arthur, then lowered his voice. "My loyalty has only ever been to my friends. Not a crown, and not some king's idea of law."

Merlin faltered, touched by the declaration of loyalty. He never should have doubted Gwaine, but he also didn't want anyone choosing him over Arthur. He hoped it wouldn't come to that. He still wasn't sure what Arthur was going to do after this was all over.

Merlin patted Gwaine's shoulder in gratitude and left him to rest. He went to check on Elyan, who was still very sick and hadn't been able to eat or drink anything aside from the antidote in all this time. Merlin was worried. The longer he was stuck in this in-between state, the more Merlin feared he would waste away into actual death.

He went to get more of the antidote, only to find that there was only a few doses left. And he'd used up all the ingredients in Morgana's stash in the last mixture. Merlin looked at the remaining potion, then at the knights. There wasn't enough to go around. The others were still showing signs of recovery, but Elyan wasn't. Which meant Merlin didn't have a choice.

Jaw set grimly, he went over to Elyan and lifted his head into the crook of his arm, giving him a slight jostle to rouse him. Elyan moaned but didn't open his eyes.

"Come on, Elyan," Merlin coaxed. "I need you to drink this."

Elyan's eyes cracked open blearily and he groaned again.

Merlin pressed the rim of the cup to his lips. "Please, Elyan."

His friend didn't seem lucid enough to understand the actual words, but he responded either to the physical prompting or Merlin's soothing tone and took a sip. Merlin made him drink all of it, desperately hoping this would finally be enough to get Elyan past the worst of it. If it wasn't…he didn't know what he was going to do.

He laid his friend back down and covered him with his cloak. All he could do now was wait.

Over the next few hours, signs of the poison in both Leon and Percival fully disappeared, finally freeing them from it. Arthur went hunting again and brought back more sparse game. With how little the sick knights were able to get down at the moment, it was doable, though Merlin's stomach was growling frequently.

"Merlin," Percival called, scooting over to Elyan.

Merlin and Arthur hurried over as Elyan struggled to open his eyes. The veins were gone from his face, but Merlin anxiously unwrapped the bandage around his hand, then rocked back in sheer relief. They were gone from the poisoned cut too. The antidote had finally worked.

Arthur rested a hand on the top of Elyan's head. "You're okay now."

Okay but very weak. Merlin jumped to his feet and quickly went to get some broth from the stew. Percival inched in behind Elyan and propped him up against himself. Elyan's head lolled limply against Percival's broad chest.

"I know you're exhausted, but you need to take just a little sustenance," Merlin urged, holding the bowl up.

"Can it wait?" Elyan murmured tiredly, eyelids drooping.

"No," Arthur responded. "That's an order."

Elyan tried to force his eyes to stay open and Merlin prompted him to sip from the bowl. He was clearly too exhausted to get much down, so Merlin took pity on him after he'd gotten down four mouthfuls.

"You did good. We'll try more later," he said encouragingly. "You can sleep now."

Elyan didn't need more permission than that to close his eyes and fall limp, still propped up against Percival. He didn't even stir as they moved him to lie back down.

"He'll be all right now, right?" Percival asked worriedly.

"It'll take a while to regain his strength," Merlin answered. "But yes, the curse is gone."

They all still had a long road of recovery ahead, though they were much better off than before. But with recovery came the emotional aftermath, and Merlin could tell they were each haunted by their ordeal. He didn't know how to help with that part. He wanted to use his magic to at least soothe their troubled sleep, but he wouldn't do that without permission and he was too afraid to offer; no doubt they were all feeling a bit repelled by any notion of magic.

Arthur approached him later, expression grim. "We can't stay here forever. At some point we need to get them back to Camelot, and we can't do it on our own. Someone needs to go for help."

Merlin frowned. "You can't go walking through the Darkling Woods alone."

"I agree, Sire," Leon spoke up from where he was sitting against the tree.

"We don't have a choice," Arthur countered.

"Give them some more time," Merlin pleaded. "Leon, Percival, and Gwaine are making good progress. Elyan's over the worst of it. And surely more search parties will be sent out since we never returned. Help could still come to us."

Arthur sighed, looking between him and Leon. "Alright, but just a little longer. The sooner we get away from this dreadful place, the better for everyone."

Merlin couldn't disagree with that.

But it wasn't much later that his hopes were dashed when he heard Lancelot moaning fitfully. He rushed over and found the knight twitching and shivering, and the poison that had receded down past his shoulder had curled back up around it. Merlin's heart dropped into his stomach. He was out of the antidote.

"Merlin, what is it?" Leon asked, shuffling over.

He swallowed hard. "The poison is reasserting itself. And I used up all the ingredients for the antidote."

"They were all herbs, right? Can you find more in the woods?"

"I can try."

"I'll go with you," Arthur said, picking up his sword.

"I've gone foraging for herbs plenty of times on my own," Merlin protested. "And someone should stay and guard the camp."

"I can keep watch," Leon assured them. He had recovered enough to at least be on his feet.

"These aren't the woods outside the castle, Mer-lin," Arthur pointed out. "Besides, I've already been through this area several times."

It was so nice to hear the exasperatedly fond enunciation of his name that Merlin didn't put up any further argument.

"Keep him warm," he instructed, casting one last look at Lancelot before setting off. "These are the plants we need to look for," he told Arthur, going on to describe them. Two sets of eyes were better than one.

They picked their way through the woods, scanning the ground intently for their quarry. Merlin started flicking uncertain looks at Arthur as they went. He cleared his throat.

"What are you going to do with me when we get back to Camelot?" he asked tentatively.

"Are you even coming back to Camelot?" was the reply.

Merlin pulled up short. "Of course. It's my home, and I'm not going to leave your side unless you tell me to." His jaw tightened; well, that wasn't necessarily true. He couldn't just abandon Arthur even if he did banish him.

Arthur looked at him for a long moment, then resumed his search.

Merlin walked a few more paces through the underbrush before speaking again.

"Do you hate me?"

Arthur huffed audibly. "I don't hate you, Merlin."

"You're angry," he pointed out.

Arthur rounded on him. "Don't I have a right to be? You lied to me all these years." He shook his head in frustration. "Were you ever going to tell me?"

Merlin dropped his gaze. "I don't know," he replied honestly. "I wanted to. I hoped that someday I would." He turned away. "I would imagine what it would be like sometimes, to not have to hide. To stand at your side as both your manservant and your sorcerer. Though I'm actually a warlock, not a sorcerer." Merlin took a breath. "I'd imagine what it would be like to be seen for who I really was and not feared or hated. It was nice to think about," he admitted quietly, then flicked a look back at Arthur.

This time it was Arthur who looked away for several moments. Then he sighed. "I'm not going to have you banished or executed."

Merlin felt a flicker of hope come to life inside him. "Really?"

Arthur shook his head as though he couldn't believe himself. "Really. But we should probably continue to keep your magic a secret."

Merlin nodded, grateful that he was at least being given a chance.

They went back to their search, but after more scouring, they hadn't found a single one of the ingredients needed to make more of the antidote.

"What do we do?" Arthur asked.

Merlin heaved a grave sigh. "I'll have to use my magic."

They turned and made their way back to the campsite. Gwaine was helping Elyan get more stew down while Percival and Leon sat beside Lancelot.

"Did you get it?" Leon asked.

Merlin shook his head grimly. "I'll have to try something else."

Leon got to his feet and moved back, making space for Merlin. But when Merlin pulled up Lancelot's tunic to check on the progress of the poison, he froze. The veins had spread much faster than he'd anticipated in the short time he'd been gone, the tips branching out across the left side of his chest like it was coming back with a vengeance.

"What's wrong?" Percival asked, noticing his tense posture.

Merlin lowered Lancelot's shirt. "I don't know if I can do this."

"What do you mean?" Arthur interjected. "You cured yourself easily enough."

"By burning it out. And the poison has spread again. It's dangerously close to his heart." Merlin rocked back in dread. "I could kill him."

They all exchanged grave looks at that.

"Do it," Lancelot suddenly rasped, and his eyes opened to pained slits as he met Merlin's gaze. "Please," he begged. "I would rather die as myself than become that thing again."

A lump swelled in Merlin's throat, and he looked around at the others. Arthur's expression was solemn as he nodded for Merlin to go ahead with it.

Merlin took a breath and turned back to his friend. Being cursed into that existence, neither living nor dead, was a fate worse than death, he knew that. And so Merlin had no choice, even if it cost him everything.

Clenching his jaw, he placed one hand over Lancelot's injured one, and the other on his shoulder. Then with an uttered spell, he pushed his magic into Lancelot's body. The gray veins lit up with blazing gold light that forked through them like lightning. Lancelot arched violently as a horrendous scream tore from his throat. Merlin didn't stop, he couldn't stop. Hot moisture stung his eyes as he pushed his burning magic through every inch of the poison inside his friend.

It felt like it lasted longer than it did, but finally it was over. The light snuffed out and Lancelot fell limp. Percival quickly pulled up his tunic to check the skin beneath; no more gray veins. Merlin, however, clasped Lancelot's wrist in a desperate search for a pulse. He found one, but it was thready.

"Lancelot?" he called anxiously, brushing sweat-soaked hair away from his brow. Lancelot was pale and unresponsive, barely breathing it seemed.

"Merlin," Arthur said quietly. "Look."

Merlin cast a glance over his shoulder to where Arthur had unwrapped Lancelot's hand and was holding it up for Merlin to see. The veins were cleared from that as well and the cut was no longer black.

"It worked," Arthur said.

So it had. Merlin sagged in exhaustion, relief and worry still too tangled for him to feel at ease yet. He turned his attention back to Lancelot, having no intention of moving until he knew whether his magic would still kill his best friend or not.