The Power of Three
Chapter Three: The Poisoned Chalice, Part Two
Gaius's head snapped to the door as someone knocked. Unwilling to leave Merlin's side, he glanced across the servant's restless form at Gwen, who nodded and rose to let the visitor in. "My lady!" she gasped when she saw Morgana standing there, her elegant eyebrows pinched in concern. "I am so sorry I haven't been attending to you!"
Morgana shook her head and offered her servant an understanding smile. "I can manage on my own. I didn't expect for you to leave his side." Gwen blushed. "I'm actually here to check on Merlin myself," she added. "Can I come in?"
Gwen stepped aside to let her mistress into the room, then made as if to follow her back to Merlin's bedside. Morgana stopped suddenly and turned to her servant, eyes imploring. "Actually, Gwen, there is one thing you can do. Would you mind going to the kitchens and bringing up some dinner for everyone - yourself included? Make sure they give you the best food they have on hand. Neither you nor Gaius is going to be much help to Merlin if you're weak with hunger." Gwen glanced over her shoulder at her prone friend, then nodded, hastening out of the physician's chambers with obvious intent to come back as quickly as possible. She left the door open behind her.
Morgana closed it.
"Gaius."
The old man heaved himself to his feet. Morgana could tell that he was reluctant to leave his ward's side, even for a moment. "Lady Morgana. Is there something I can do for you? Your sleeping draught, perhaps?"
"Oh, no, Gaius," the lady quickly protested. "Please, sit back down. You look exhausted. I just came to check on Merlin." Her green eyes flickered to the servant, who writhed uncomfortably on the thin mattress and gasped for air. Her chest tightened painfully at her friend's obvious suffering; she cursed Uther's cruelty internally, forcing herself to stay calm to Gaius. Indicating the chair that Gwen had just vacated, she asked, "May I sit?"
Gaius blinked. "Of course, my lady."
After she was settled, Morgana let her eyes rest on the servant's face for a moment longer, taking in the clammy skin, the redness around his eyes, the blue tinge to his lips. Her heart broke for him, and she had to resist the urge to brush his damp hair from his sweaty forehead. Instead, she tore her eyes away from his face and addressed Gaius urgently. She didn't have much time to talk to him alone. Gwen could return at any moment.
"Gaius, I need to know - is there anyway that Merlin could…" she hesitated briefly.
"My lady?"
"Could he… heal himself, somehow?"
One of Gaius's eyebrows crawled up his forehead like a fuzzy white caterpillar. Morgana could not read his expression past the surprise, but knew he had to be suspicious, perhaps frightened, at her question. However, his voice was even as he responded, "Whatever do you mean, Morgana?"
Taking a deep breath, Morgana revealed, "I know that Merlin has magic, Gaius."
This time Gaius could not hide his fear. "I assure you, my lady, that whatever you saw-"
Morgana was quick to reassure him. "Merlin knows that I know. And he also knows that I am going to keep his secret. How could I not?"
Still visibly shaken, Gaius cast his eyes on his poisoned ward. "Fool boy." His tone held only affection. "I suppose he was being careless with it?"
"Actually, I saw him using it to save my life." Her voice darkened. "And now he's fighting for his, for no other reason than his own goodness and Uther's callousness. Tell me, Gaius, is there any magic he can do to heal himself?"
"Even if he were coherent enough to perform magic right now, I do not think he has the capacity for this kind of healing spell yet. That is to say, I know that he has the power - but healing spells in and of themselves are tricky things; they take time to learn."
"But he healed Gwen's father," Morgana insisted. "Why wouldn't he be able to heal himself?"
"Sickness, even sickness born of magic, is different from poison in many ways. One can purge the body of sickness, but a poison cannot be cured so easily. Only a priest or priestess of the Old Religion would be in any way equipped with the knowledge and power of reversing a poison without its antidote."
Looking down at Merlin once more, Morgana sighed, "Then it really is all up to Arthur, isn't it?"
Reaching across the sickbed, Gaius patted Morgana's arm. "He will not fail." He sounded suspiciously as if he were trying to convince himself as well.
Both jumped as the door swung open and Gwen entered, balancing two trays on her arms. "Any change?" she asked briskly, setting her burdens down on the table amongst tomes, vials, and scattered herbs.
"Not as yet," Gaius murmured.
"Are you going to eat here, my lady?" Gwen asked. "If so, I will fetch your dinner as well. I know you didn't get to eat as well as you should have at the feast."
Rising from her seat, Morgana shook her head. "Thank you, but I think I'm going to retire to my chambers for now. I've asked Sarah to tend to me tonight - I know you'll want to stay with Merlin until Arthur returns with the antidote."
Dark eyes shining with tears, Gwen grasped Morgana's pale hand gratefully. "Thank you so much. Are you sure-?"
"Gwen. Stay with him." She cast one more glance at Merlin and requested, "And... let me know if there is any change."
After riding straight on for what had to be at least four hours, maybe more, Arthur felt his horse slowing, and knew that he wouldn't be able to press on at this speed for much longer. Noticing a clearing ahead, he made the decision to stop long enough to give his horse a rest before he continued on. If the animal gave out from exhaustion, that would delay him even more.
The clearing was quite lovely, with a small stream meandering around its edges. Wildflowers dotted the grass with bursts of color, and the moonlight trickled down the overhanging branches of the trees along the border, pooling in the center of the clearing with an eerie glow. Arthur led his horse to the stream and let him drink his fill, then did the same himself. He didn't bother tying the horse's reins; as a royal mount, Anwyn was trained for battle and did not spook easily, and would not wander.
Arthur sat on a fallen log to rest, stretching his legs one at a time to release the tension. He hadn't ridden this hard for this long in ages, and he felt it in every muscle. As he arched his back, striving for that cathartic pop that would hurt initially but ultimately relieve all the built-up pressure, a strange sound emitted from the north end of the clearing.
His sword was drawn even before he had made his way to his feet, hard eyes trained on the direction the noise had come from. A low chittering, hissing, spitting. Heart pumping to the rhythm of a coming battle, the prince stalked toward the sound, watching the trees and bushes hedging the clearing.
HHSSSSSSSSSS!
Arthur rolled out the way just in time as a peal of fire spouted from the treeline, incinerating bushes and singeing the arm of his tunic. What followed the flame out of the bushes was ten times worse than the illustration that Gaius had shown him.
The cockatrice, as the physician had named it, was a creature of nightmares. It would probably have been taller than Arthur had its long, scaly legs not crouched low, supporting its lithe reptilian form. Horrid spikes marked its spine with deadly accuracy, from shoulders to the tip of the tail. About three-fourths up its body, the black scales turned into dull golden feathers, and its face was that of a rooster from the depths of hell, blood-red slitted snake eyes, golden beak like an executioner's axe, noxious smoke pooling from the nostrils and sides of the beak. Even from where he stood, Arthur could smell the charred decay of the monster's breath. When the cockatrice opened its maw to spew more flames, Arthur saw with horror that the inside of the beak was lined with hideous, blackened teeth, as deadly as the spikes that ran down its back.
The prince dove out of the way to avoid the next attack, then lunged toward it with his sword held aloft, intending to strike its heart. It was fast, its swiftness belying its terrifying size, and it whipped around, blocking its unprotected chest from Arthur's blade, and nearly impaled the prince with its armored tail. Gaius's words echoed in his mind: The cockatrice spews fire, and its spines secrete a deadly poison. One scratch from those, and you will die.
That had been a close one. For a monster such as this, large and lithe with both short and long range attacks, the prince would have preferred a weapon other than his sword. A lance or crossbow would have given him more range, but they might not have the power of a sword thrust. Dodging another molten attack, an idea struck Arthur. Perhaps he could turn his sword into a long-range weapon, giving himself the distance he needed as well as the power. However, he would only have one shot at this, and if he missed or anything else went wrong, he would be without a weapon entirely.
He had no choice. The cockatrice was circling him now, stalking him like a cat would a grasshopper, and Arthur knew he didn't have much time. Merlin didn't have much time, either, so he had to act quickly, had to anticipate the exact moment the creature would spring. Any sooner, and he would miss; any later, and he would be fried to a crisp.
His sharp eyes caught the nearly imperceptible shift in the monster's balance, saw the anticipation in its demonic eyes the second it turned to insatiable hunger, and he knew. The moment the creature launched forward, horrible mouth opening to release another deadly burst of flame, Arthur's sword hurtled through the air, catching the creature in its unprotected chest, the force of the throw and the sword's own weight and momentum propelling it through scales and hide and muscles, piercing its heart and stifling the fire within.
The cockatrice let out a horrible death-cackle, smoke spewing from its beak, a thick, black substance leaking around the edges of the blade. It toppled to the forest floor with a crash, driving the sword deeper into its own flesh. It fell still.
Panting with exertion, Arthur stumbled forward - I can't believed that worked! - and with a good amount of pushing, pulling, manipulation, and cursing, managed to finally dislodge his weapon from the corpse's chest. He cleaned it the best he could on the grass, but the creature's blood was tacky and stubbornly clung on to the once polished metal. Arthur almost laughed aloud at Merlin's face when Arthur would have him clean it. He sobered at the thought of the servant and crossed the clearing to retrieve his horse. Anwyn, though obviously spooked, had not run during the battle, and let Arthur mount him almost gratefully. The poor animal probably wanted to get out of here even more than Arthur himself did.
As Arthur left the clearing, he felt hope rise within him. After all, Gaius had said that the creature was said to guard the Caves of Balor, so he had to be getting close.
Hold on, Merlin. Just hold on.
The caves were exactly what Arthur expected them to be - dark, damp, and foreboding. What he wasn't expecting was a cloaked woman to appear out of the shadows the moment he stepped out onto a ledge, reaching for the flower he could see just out of reach. He certainly wasn't expecting this mysterious figure holding flame in one hand to incant a spell and crumble his already perilous footing from beneath him. His stomach lurched as the ground began to crack, and he launched himself forward just in time to catch himself on the cave wall, gloved hands desperately scrabbling for any handhold.
Sharp rocks and jutting edges cut through his gloves, slicing at his palms, and it was only sheer determination aided by abundant adrenaline that kept him from letting go. Gasping for breath, he clung to the wall like an overgrown spider, hands already cramping around the insubstantial handholds, feet struggling to find a perch as well. Once he had steadied himself as much as possible, he peered up at the cloaked figure who stood above him like a vengeful goddess. "Who are you?" he demanded, his voice strong and defiant despite his vulnerability. "Why are you doing this?"
"Do not blame me for the punishment your father has wrought upon himself and his line," a harsh, but somehow still melodic, voice hissed.
Arthur's heart plunged to the depths of the pit beneath him. He hung tightly to the wall, determined not to follow it. "You're angry with my father because of his stance on magic?" he called up. "You might be surprised to know that I am less like my father than you would think!"
The woman scoffed. "Do not think that my quarrel with Uther Pendragon is something so… mundane," she sneered. Her voice changed to something sickly sweet. "You killed the cockatrice, so you must be very strong. However, that strength will do you no good here."
In the light from the sorceress's flames, Arthur saw the Morteus flower several feet out of reach. Knowing that he would lose strength the longer he clung here, Arthur gathered his courage and began to climb the nearly sheer wall, carefully feeling for hand and footholds in the dark.
"My, my," crooned the voice, more amused than impressed. "And you continue to press forward, so desperate to save the life of your servant, despite the inevitability of your death. You must be very brave as well." Laughing, she added, "But it will do you no good. I think I will leave you now. If you somehow manage not to fall before the… wildlife … finds you, that would be a miracle indeed, but either way, you will not leave this cave alive."
Straining to climb, frustrated that he had only gained a couple of inches at most, Arthur growled, "If you're so desperate to see me dead, then why not finish me off yourself?"
"Oh, it is not your destiny to die by my hand, Arthur Pendragon."
"That's rich, considering you're the whole reason I'm in this mess," the prince ground out.
"It may not be my fate to kill you myself, but surely it is no crime to give destiny a nudge in the right direction." He could hear the smirk in her voice. "Goodbye, Arthur Pendragon. Enjoy your death."
She disappeared, taking her conjured light with her. Arthur was left in total darkness, save for the pale shine of the moon from an opening far above that offered no guidance whatsoever. Desperation clung to every fiber of his being. He'd failed. There was no light to climb by. His arms were weakening, his fingers cramped. He could fall at any moment.
That's when he heard it - an ominous pattering that at first sounded like rain on flagstone, growing louder and more frenetic by the second. Risking a glance down below him, fear lanced up the prince's spine as he saw dozens of pairs of red eyes making their way steadily up the face of the cliff toward him. He didn't know what these creatures were, but they certainly were not here to help him. They must be the "wildlife" the witch had spoken of.
Any last dregs of hope drained from Arthur's soul as the darkness pressed in on him and the maddening taptaptaptaptap-ing grew closer. I'm sorry, Merlin. I tried.
A light appeared in the darkness.
It had been a lucky stroke that Gaius had sent Gwen to fetch water when he had. Merlin's muttering of the Old Tongue had become increasingly desperate, and he had worried that the boy might inadvertently perform some small act of magic that would be difficult to explain to Gwen, but he hadn't expected to see a blue orb of pure energy radiate from Merlin's opened palm. It illuminated the ugly, damning rash that was appearing far too soon on his nearly translucent skin and cast an eerie pallor on his wan face.
"Merlin, what-" Gaius breathed, mind reeling at the powerful magic he was seeing, magic the likes of which Merlin should not be able to conjure right now, in his poor state.
Everything clicked together when Merlin spoke again, his eyes flaring open gold, cracked lips sporting a name that helped everything make sense: "Arthur."
His eyes fluttered shut, but the orb remained. Gaius glanced at the door, willed Gwen to take her time fetching the water, and held Merlin's other hand, as if lending him his own strength.
He watched, and waited.
The light was unlike anything Arthur had ever seen before, and yet there was something incredibly familiar about the perfect sphere of invigorating blue that filled his chest with warmth. A sense of peace, comfort, encouragement, and home radiated from it, and the closer it drew near, the less his muscles ached, and strength surged back into his body, hopelessness replaced with renewed determination.
When the light rose and hovered near the opening at the top of the cave, illuminating the way out - and the flowers just out of reach - the prince came to a stunning revelation, one he could not fully understand but that had to be true: Merlin. The familiarity of this light, the warmth and protection and strength it provided, it was Merlin. Somehow, even while in the throes of inevitable death, Merlin was still protecting Arthur.
Renewed further by this staggering realization, Arthur started his climb once more, trying to ignore the sound of whatever was pursuing him getting louder, getting closer, and once he had gained a few inches, the prince made the mistake of looking down hoping to catch a glimpse of whatever they were in the light of the orb. A mass of legs and fat, hairy bodies, dotted with countless red eyes, scurried up the wall, and he realized the sound like pelting rain was a combination of the spiders' legs on stone and the clicking of fangs. Arthur had never been afraid of insects, but this might just be enough to change his mind.
Now with the added motivation giant spiders on his tail, Arthur resumed his climb with vigor. The flowers were a bit out of his way; he would have to shimmy to the side and reach for them instead of heading straight for the entrance. Even with his newfound strength, he would be cutting it close. As if Merlin had read his thoughts, his voice echoed through Arthur's consciousness - not aloud from the sphere, and not exactly in his mind, either, an echo of an echo - Leave them, Arthur. Save yourself.
Filing this weird connection with Merlin's dying subconscious away until he wasn't in immediate danger of being eaten by a swarm of hellish arachnids, Arthur gritted his teeth and began making his lateral shift, closer to the flowers. If you think I'm going to come all this way to save your sorry backside and then just leave without the antidote because of a few pests, then you're even stupider than I thought, Arthur thought.
The flowers were just above him now, taunting him from their ledge, and he braced himself the best he could on his tenuous foothold and reached. He could feel the monsters at his back, growing closer and closer and he reached, fingertips brushing vegetation, muscles screaming, fear building, one final, wild grab - and the antidote was in his clutches, now tucked away into the satchel at his hip. Emboldened by his success and driven onward by the spiders now nearly close enough to touch, the prince made quick work of the rest of the wall and pulled himself out of the cave and onto grass just starting to dew in the shifting shadows of dawn.
He scrambled to his feet, drawing his sword just in case the cave dwellers were willing to venture out of the pitch darkness for their meal, but once he had alighted from the cave, they ceased their pursuit. Breathing heavily, muscles trembling, Arthur's eyes darted around for any sight of the cloaked madwoman who had done this to him. Thankfully, he was alone - other than Anwyn, who snorted his approval at Arthur's return and stamped his hoof.
Glaring up at the now feeble orb which now wavered at eye-level in the first rays of sunlight, Arthur remarked wryly, no real heat in his voice, "I appreciate the help, but really, only you would expend energy you don't have while dying to try to be the hero, Merlin." The orb didn't respond, but the prince hadn't expected it to.
Moments later, it flickered out of existence entirely. Though he told himself that Merlin had just completed what he had set out to do, that the disappearing light did not herald something more severe, Arthur wasted no time in mounting Anwyn and galloping back the way they had come, his face set in grim determination.
Merlin was worse, much worse. Gaius truly did not know if he would last past another dusk. Nimueh's spell on the poison had increased its potency tenfold, and the old physician willed Arthur not to dally under the assumption that Merlin had four days as Gaius had previously thought. Gwen slumped, snoring lightly, in her chair, curled up on the hard wood like a cat, expression unsettled even in her uneasy slumber.
She startled awake as the door to Gaius's chambers swung open with an indignant squeal and clattered against the wall. Gaius himself sprang to his feet with far more agility than he realized he had in him. "What is the meaning of this?" he snapped, before schooling his expression when he realized who was crossing his threshold. "My lady, I apologize. I did not realize-"
Morgana, eyes blazing with fury, cut him off. "Uther's heartlessness knows no bounds," she proclaimed as Gwen scurried to her side, trying to guide her to the seat that the servant herself had just vacated. Morgana shook her off and addressed Gaius once more. "Arthur returned with the antidote, but the king locked him up for defying his orders. He won't let anyone see Arthur, and he refuses to allow anyone else to bring the antidote to Merlin either."
Gwen gaped at her mistress. "Even after Merlin saved Arthur's life by drinking poison meant for him?"
"To what end is Uther doing this?" Gaius asked, and even he could hear the slight tremble in his words.
"To teach Arthur a lesson, apparently," Morgana snapped. "I tried to reason with him, but he is so set on maintaining total control over every aspect of his son's life that he refuses to consider another alternative." Her eyes flicked to the panting servant on the sickbed, taking in, Gaius was sure, the grey pallor of coming death. "You have to talk some sense into him, Gaius," she implored.
Burning desperation infecting his spirit, chasing out the last vestiges of hope for his ward, Gaius slowly shook his head. "If he will not listen to you, Morgana, then I am afraid he will certainly not heed the word of an old man like me."
Gwen set her jaw and stepped forward, normally gentle eyes steeled with purpose. "I will find a way to sneak into the dungeon and retrieve the antidote from Arthur," she decided.
"That will be very dangerous," Morgana remarked with surprise. She regarded her maidservant with something akin to admiration.
"Merlin is worth it," Gwen said simply. She left.
The next few hours were a haze of uncertainty, despair, and finally hope. One obstacle would be overcome, and yet another would take its place. Gwen was able to sneak the Morteus leaves from Arthur's cell, only narrowly avoiding being caught, but then Gaius realized that because the poison had been enhanced with magic that magic may be needed to enhance the antidote. Gaius had sent Gwen out for water again and had managed enough power to enchant the antidote while Morgana watched, the gold of the spell reflecting briefly in her own eyes. However, once Gwen returned and held the sorcerer's nose while Gaius fed the potion to a corpse-like Merlin, it seemed as if they had not completed the antidote in time as Merlin's heart had stopped beating and he appeared to be dead despite everything. Thankfully, that had been a false alarm, and he had woken up just long enough to inquire about Arthur's safety before falling back into a restless slumber, weak, sickly, but no longer with his fist poised at death's door.
Morgana and Gwen kept vigil over the servant while Gaius spoke to Uther, finally managed to persuade him of Bayard's innocence based on Nimueh's now certain involvement in the poisoning - it could only have been her who had attempted to kill Arthur at the caves. Within hours, a tentative peace had been reforged in the understanding that both sides had been manipulated by magic, the treaty had been signed, and Bayard's men had left to intercept the troops from Mercia that were marching upon Camelot after word of Bayard's arrest reached them.
The fact that Nimueh was proving herself to be active in the affairs of Camelot once more, this time with a grudge not just against Uther and his kin but against Merlin as well, shook Gaius to his core, but he chose not to dwell on these things on this night. Merlin was alive and recovering, Morgana knew about his magic and had allied herself with him, which would be a balm to the warlock, Gaius knew, and Mercia was no longer threatening war.
For tonight, at least, all was well.
The first thing that Arthur did when he was released from the cells three days later - Uther had seen fit to release him early after hearing the full story of Arthur's adventures and mulling over it for a while - was visit his servant in Gaius's chambers. The king had even skirted around an apology, actually admitting to his son that he may have acted hastily in allowing the boy that had saved Arthur's life to die so that Arthur could learn a lesson. He seemed pleased that Merlin had pulled through after all. Arthur thought with a kind of anxious amusement that his father would be singing a completely different tune had he known the things about the servant that his son did.
When he entered the physician's chambers, Morgana was on her way out. Her eyes twinkled in amusement as he demanded, "What are you doing here?"
"The same as you, I'd wager. Visiting Merlin." Glancing past Morgana, Arthur saw Merlin sitting at the table, a bit peckish and pale looking but very much alive, watching the exchange with a grin.
Arthur rolled his eyes dramatically. "Why would I be here to see Merlin?" he drawled. "As useless as he is in full health, he'll be of no benefit to me at all in this state."
Morgana smirked knowingly. "Well, Gaius isn't here, so I suppose you'll accompany me out and come back later then?"
Trying not to fixate on the revelation that Merlin and Morgana had been spending time together, alone and unsupervised, Arthur threw his hands in the air in a show of surrender. "Fine, you got me. I'm here to make sure Merlin isn't slacking off and pretending to be ill just to get out of work."
It was Morgana's turn to roll her eyes. "I will take my leave now. All this chauvinistic pretense is stifling." She turned and waved at Merlin. "It's good to see you feeling better, Merlin."
When she was gone, Arthur moved deeper into the room, crossed his arms over his chest, and demanded, "What was that about?"
Tilting his head quizzically, Merlin asked, "What was what about?"
"Why are you and Morgana spending so much quality time together?" Arthur immensely enjoyed seeing his servant squirm under his questioning, but the servant recovered rather quickly.
"Hey, I've been stuck in this room for days. She's the one who came to visit me. You'll have to ask her if you're so bothered, but I'm assuming it's because unlike some prats, she cares about someone other than herself." There was no heat in his words, only good-natured jest.
"Careful," Arthur warned light-heartedly. "Poisoned or not, I am still your prince."
Merlin grinned wickedly. "Prince or not, you're still a prat."
"You're insufferable," Arthur complained. "I don't know why I haven't sacked you already."
"You did, remember?" Merlin reminded him. "With Valiant, and the snakes?"
"Gods only know why I hired you back," Arthur groused. Growing serious, he asked, "How are you feeling? Still like death?"
Merlin shrugged. "More like death warmed over." He cleared his throat. "And I hear that I have you to thank for that."
Arthur shifted awkwardly where he stood. "It was nothing."
"Thank you, Arthur." Merlin's eyes held only gratitude. They were the color of the orb that had saved the prince's life in the cave. Arthur couldn't help but wonder if Merlin even remembered conjuring and sending the magic to his friend's aid.
Arthur had never been good at this kind of thing - heart-to-heart conversations, especially with an idiotic, self-sacrificing servant like Merlin, but he finally settled with acknowledging, "You would do the same for me." He paused, whether to collect his thoughts or for dramatic effect, even he was unsure. "In fact, I think it is safe to say that you have."
Merlin stared at him, confused. "You mean… with the poison?"
"Perhaps," Arthur hedged. He wasn't planning on letting Merlin know that he was aware of his secret until the servant had completely recovered and was back to work; he'd gone through far too much to keep the idiot alive for the shock of having his magic discovered to kill him now. But giving half-answers just vague enough to mess with the servant's mind and keep him wondering wouldn't hurt anyone.
"Rest up, Merlin," Arthur ordered, turning to leave as Merlin still tried to puzzle out the meaning in Arthur's words. "I expect to see you back at work as soon as Gaius clears you for duty."
Merlin nodded distractedly. As Arthur reached out for the door handle, he couldn't help himself. He turned back to the servant and added, "Oh, and Merlin? I'm glad you didn't die."
It was as close to an acknowledgement of friendship as Arthur was willing to admit aloud, but he saw in Merlin's eyes that the sorcerer understood what lay beneath the surface of what had been said. It was a funny thing about Merlin, Arthur thought as he made his way back to the training grounds: He was quite good at seeing past the surface of things, past nefarious plots, past ornate goblets lined with death … and even, it seemed, the Crown Prince of Camelot himself.
A/N: I hope you enjoyed this installment of the story! Thank you so much to everyone who read, favorited, followed, and reviewed - you all literally make my day! You'll notice that I added a lot to this "episode," and that I made changes to the episode itself. This series is also turning into being "Emachinescat fixes stupid plot-points that make no sense." Maybe it's just me, but I never understood the relevance of Nimueh pretending to be a serving girl so that she could lead Arthur to the cave he was already going to. And although it's not a plot point, the "cockatrice" in the show was NOT a cockatrice. So I fixed that too. :) Thanks again to those who are reviewing. I'm hoping to be able to have time to start responding personally soon!
I will see you next time with "Lancelot"! I already have it written, and it will be split into three parts, so be ready for something crazy for me - regular updates! Anyway, please let me know what you thought. I'm loving this series so far, and I have so many plans already forming for the seasons to come as well.
~Emachinescat ^..^