Arthur had doubled the patrols around Camelot. It was only a matter of time before Morgana struck again, of that he was certain, and he didn't want to be caught off-guard. His men trained rigorously every morning, and he recruited new knights every day. With the legalization of sorcery a faction of magic-wielding soldiers developed and Arthur was starting to realize what a massive asset he'd been ignoring. There was even a surge of Druid warriors, eager to help protect their new home.

Merlin left Gaius's bedside for a few hours a week to teach technique sessions to the troops of sorcerers. Arthur took to standing on the sidelines and watching, as Merlin had often done during his own training hours. It was still strange to watch his old servant use magic, and a little awe-inspiring, too. The effortless way he conjured flame and stone was… well, breathtaking. His performances were amplified by the fact that, little by little, his concealment spell had begun to slip over the past few weeks. Arthur knew it was because of Gaius; Merlin was constantly thinking of him. He didn't seem to sleep, and whatever off-time he allowed himself from potion-making and research was spent with the soldiers. What had started with dark circles under his eyes had become flares of scales on his cheekbones, the faintest hints of horns peering out from his hair, even a tail (it disappeared when Arthur pointed it out, however).

"Have you made any progress?" Arthur murmured one day, walking up to Merlin, who was surveying his class as they created fissures in the grass in front of them. The soldiers newer to magic were struggling somewhat, a few beaming at hairline cracks in the lawn. The Druids were stifling grins, and as gaping chasms formed at their feet, the king got the impression that they were even holding back.

"I'm running out of books," Merlin offered a crooked smile but didn't break his gaze from the men and women in front of him. "And still he refuses to help me. He keeps talking about how there'll be a way to fix me in one of the books Geoffrey brings him." He paused, finally turning to look at Arthur. "He always wakes up when that librarian comes. I don't know how he knows, but he's up and beaming like it's Yule. He really thinks he can save me, Arthur."

"Maybe he can," Arthur offered quietly, but neither of them really believed it. A moment passed in silence and then he left his friend to the soldiers, heading towards the physicians chambers.

Arthur heard humming as he knocked on the doorway, and it stopped. He could just see Gaius's face from where he stood, glancing up from a book, and the old man smiled warmly.

"Good day, sire. I hope nothing ails you?" He called cheerfully, and Arthur walked up the slight steps, taking Merlin's chair at the man's bedside.

"I'm in perfect health," he said, and Gaius gave him a once-over.

"I'd respectfully disagree with that statement, based on the lines on your forehead," the physician returned to his book. "Looks like a digestive issue. I'd recommend warm lemon-water in the mornings."

Arthur smoothed his brow self-consciously.

"If you wanted to grab a book, sire, I—"

"I didn't come here for that, Gaius," Arthur murmured, but the old man seemed to be ignoring him. "When are you going to tell him you already know what's…"

"What's killing me?" he spoke nonchalantly, but the paper between his index and middle finger quivered slightly. "Don't you think he has enough on his mind already?"

"He's working himself into the ground trying to find a cure for you."

"And what do you think he'll do when I tell him that I'm going to die, my lord? That all his magic won't save me?" Gaius shook his head and turned the page. "It's better he has that hope."

"So what is this mysterious illness, then? It certainly didn't come from a little rain." Arthur talked in a lowered voice, as if Merlin was in the room (although with his newfound dragon senses, the king was never certain what his advisor did and didn't hear).

"If I'm right…" Gaius finally closed the book, and for the first time that day Arthur could see plainly how frail he'd become. "I know who's enchanting Merlin. A sorceress that bartered my life for another soul. I was saved when Merlin killed her, which means that when I die, she'll come back."

"Can't Merlin just—"

"Kill her? I think that's what she's hoping, my lord. There is no doubt in my mind that she's laid a trap for him. If he were to find out who's responsible for… for me, there would be no stopping him. He cannot know."

"Who is she, Gaius?"

"I fear... Her name is Nimueh."

A/N: I have had zero time to write any new chapters. Halfway through a trip through Barcelona, and I'll be gone to California for a week after Spain. I'm so sorry about the delay, but I'll do the best I can to get at least one more post up before I finally go home. Also I haven't had the chance to reply to a few reviews yet but I see them, I appreciate them, and I'll PM you all soon!

PS- I have no doubt the reveal of Nimueh's part in the story will be received poorly by a lot of you- after all, she was only a part of Merlin's story for the first season. However, she plays a much larger role in traditional Arthurian legend, and I thought it only fair to give her her due.