A/N: Thank you GuestM Live, PadrePedro, Buckhunter, and SnidgetHex for reviewing!
Part III
It was the final day of the tournament, and Merlin and Lancelot were watching from the sideline. Lancelot was looking a bit peaky, and while it was warm under the sun, it wasn't hot enough to explain why he was suddenly sweating profusely.
"Hey, are you okay?" Merlin asked in concern.
"I'm not feeling well," he replied, wiping his sleeve across his forehead.
"Why don't you go inside the knights' tent and sit down," Merlin suggested. "After Arthur finishes this round, I'll tell him I'm going to help you back to the castle."
Lancelot nodded sluggishly and turned toward the tent, only to collapse right there.
"Lancelot! Someone help!" Merlin yelled as he dropped down next to his friend.
Leon came rushing over. "What happened?"
"I don't know. He's burning up. Get Gaius."
Percival was also nearby and came jogging over at the commotion.
"Get him to the castle," Leon instructed. "I'll bring Gaius."
Percival gave a short nod and immediately bent down to scoop Lancelot into his arms. Merlin kept pace beside him as they hastened toward the castle and Gaius's chambers. Leon and said physician were a minute behind them. Gaius went straight to Lancelot on the patient cot and began to examine him.
"He's been poisoned," he concluded.
"What?" Percival blurted.
"Are you sure?" Leon asked.
Gaius nodded seriously. "With the rapid onset of these symptoms, yes."
"I'll get Arthur," Leon said and hurried out of the room.
"Who would want to poison him?" Percival asked.
Merlin's jaw tightened; he knew exactly who would want to—Agravaine.
Gaius was looking Lancelot over again when he pulled a small pouch from his pocket. "This is a cursed poultice."
Percival visibly stiffened at that, while Merlin's blood ran cold. As if a regular old poison wasn't bad enough, but a magical one?
"Burn it," Merlin said urgently.
Gaius strode over to the fireplace and tossed the hex bag in. It exploded with a puff of green smoke. They all turned back to Lancelot in expectation, but he didn't magically wake up, cured of the evil poison. Of course not; this had Morgana's hands all over it, and Agravaine was just her minion. Merlin was going to have to fight magic with magic, but he needed Percival out of the room.
Unfortunately, Leon returned then with Arthur, Gwen, and the rest of the Knights of the Round Table. And Agravaine, to Merlin's consternation.
"Gaius?" Arthur demanded.
"He's been magically poisoned, Sire."
There was a chorus of dismay at that, along with the same questions of who could have done it. Merlin wanted to scream that it was Agravaine, but he had no proof, just like the previous times. And now Lancelot was in no shape to testify that the murderous traitor was, in fact, working with Morgana.
Why hadn't Merlin anticipated they would try to take Lancelot out like this? He should have suspected it, should have protected his friend better.
"We have long suspected a mole in Camelot," Gaius reminded Arthur. "No doubt Morgana didn't want to risk Lancelot remembering how she brought him back and why."
"That's very unfortunate," Agravaine put in quickly. "Such information would have been very valuable."
"He's not dead yet," Merlin snapped.
"If we could clear the room," Gaius interjected, "I must treat my patient."
"Can you help him?" Arthur asked.
"I can attempt to counteract the poison," Gaius hedged. "But since it has a magical component…" He trailed off.
"This can't be happening," Gwen spoke up, distraught. "We just got him back."
Arthur put his arm around her and drew her in. "Do whatever you can," he told Gaius. "By any means necessary."
"Arthur," Agravaine started to protest.
"We'll let Gaius work," Arthur cut him off sharply and directed everyone to leave.
Agravaine hesitated but still managed to look smug as he left.
Merlin seethed inwardly, and as soon as the door closed behind everyone, he spun toward Gaius. "Agravaine and Morgana did this."
"There is little we can do about that now," Gaius said patiently. "Lancelot needs us."
Merlin clenched his fists and forced his attention to his friend. Arthur had given Gaius tacit permission to use any means to save Lancelot—including magic. It was still risky, but Merlin didn't hesitate to cast a healing spell.
Yet just like so many of his previous attempts, nothing happened. Merlin tried again, and again, and still Lancelot lay dying. And there was nothing they could do about it.
Lancelot tossed his head back and forth in the throes of delirium. He was hot and freezing by turns and his whole body was throbbing with pain. Someone was wiping his brow with a cool cloth, and Gwen's face flashed across his spinning vision. Her lips moved with words, but her voice was fuzzy and he couldn't understand them.
Someone plied him with liquid he immediately coughed back up. Gwen quickly tried to wipe it off his shirt, but the fabric was already clinging to his skin stickily. Frustrated voices sounded above him. Lancelot called out for help, but the figures didn't seem to hear.
Something else responded, though: a faint trill that echoed through his mind. He desperately reached out, and the moment his mind brushed against the presence, he found it familiar.
"Help!" he begged.
The presence called back, beckoning him. He needed to find it.
He pushed his blankets off and sat up dizzily. No one was around, but he could hear voices in the back of the room. He lurched to his feet and staggered toward the door. Everything spun around him, but he managed to find the wall and support himself as he made his way through the castle and out into the night.
Lancelot stumbled along in a feverish haze, driven by the need to follow that gossamer thread in his mind. He eventually collapsed and landed hard on the ground, unable to move. The stars splintered into opalescent colors as he blinked languidly up at them. Then one of them grew larger, and larger, until a radiant white star was about to crash right on top of him.
It wasn't a star, though; it was the white dragon. Aithusa. She landed beside Lancelot and trilled at him. He reached out a shaking hand to touch her nose. Aithusa nudged her snout into his palm, then drew back and opened her mouth. A long, warm breath wafted over him, penetrating his muscles and bones and chasing away the cursed poison. The fever dissipated, and Lancelot's mind gradually became clearer than it had been since he was first brought back.
He slowly sat up, blinking at how he'd come to be out here like this. He remembered, though, even if it was like a dream. Everything else, though—who he was, his life story—that was falling back into their proper places.
"Thank you," Lancelot said, reaching out to stroke the baby dragon's head. "You've saved me yet again."
She crooned happily and snuggled up against him. Lancelot remained sitting like that for a bit, observing his memories as they settled, until every last piece was recovered. He needed to get back to the castle, needed to tell Arthur about Agravaine and Morgana.
But before he could get up, none other than those two emerged from the nearby tree line.
"Alive and well, I see," Morgana seethed. "Again." She shifted her furious gaze to Aithusa. "And this must be how."
Lancelot automatically placed himself in front of the baby dragon.
Morgana's eyes flashed lividly. "How?" she hissed. "How did you obtain a dragon?"
"I didn't." He canted his head with a cheeky smile. "It was more like she obtained me."
Morgana's shoulders vibrated with fury. "Kill him," she ordered.
Agravaine drew his sword and strode forward. Lancelot's hand reflexively went for a weapon that wasn't there. Aithusa shrieked and reared up, but Morgana's eyes flared gold, and a spell sent the baby dragon tumbling backward.
Lancelot leaped to his feet and tried to catch Agravaine's arm before he could bring his blade down, but the trained noble hooked his foot behind Lancelot's and yanked his leg out from under him. He fell to the ground again.
"Lancelot!" Merlin yelled.
He whipped his gaze to the side and was stunned to find Arthur and the knights rushing up. They drew to a surprised stop, and Arthur gaped in shock at Agravaine standing over Lancelot.
"Uncle?"
Morgana shouted a spell that blasted them head on, throwing them all backward.
Agravaine turned back to Lancelot and raised his sword for a killing blow, but Aithusa came flying in spewing a gusher of fire at him. He screamed as he flailed backward, dropping his sword to bat at himself with his cape as flames whooshed up his clothing.
Lancelot rolled away and snatched up the sword, then turned to face Morgana, who was still focused on Arthur. He charged her, but she jerked away at the last second and thrust her hand up, slamming him with an invisible force of magic. He landed on his back again, the air punching from his lungs. Morgana loomed over him, eyes alighting with her next spell to finish him off, but then Aithusa was coming to his rescue again and belching fire at Morgana. The flames grazed her dress, and she screeched in frustration before turning to flee.
Lancelot sagged in relief, then pushed himself upright.
Leon and Gwaine rushed over to arrest Agravaine, while the others were regathering themselves and eyeing Aithusa warily.
"Impossible," Arthur uttered. "The last dragon egg was destroyed."
He immediately lifted his sword to attack, but Lancelot planted himself in front of Aithusa again.
"Don't hurt her," he pleaded. "I remember now; the dragon saved me from Morgana. When she brought me back, I was a slave to her will. I was on my way to Camelot to sabotage your engagement to Gwen when the dragon found me. She must have sensed the evil that was inhabiting my body, and she banished it. And tonight, she healed me."
Arthur wavered, his sword still held aloft.
"She's not like the Great Dragon," Lancelot insisted. "She harbors no hatred toward men or Camelot." He paused before adding, "She hasn't been hunted by them."
Lancelot let that implication hang in the air.
Arthur slowly lowered his weapon in apparent acceptance of Lancelot's plea. He turned to Agravaine next. "And what do you have to say for yourself, Uncle?"
"He's been working with Morgana," Lancelot said before Agravaine could try to spin this. "He was there when she had me in her lair, and he was in on the plan to target Guinevere."
Arthur's expression hardened at his uncle.
"You cannot believe a word he says," Agravaine argued. "His memory is unreliable."
"Not anymore," Lancelot proclaimed. "I remember everything perfectly clearly now."
"We'll deal with this back at the castle," Arthur said. He cast one last guarded look at the baby dragon before devastation began to crack through his bravado, and he turned away to head home.
Lancelot and Merlin hung back.
"Thank you," Lancelot told Aithusa again. "Words of gratitude will never be enough."
She trilled and stood up on her haunches. Lancelot reached out to press a hand to her head. He felt a thrum of something between them, a connection that would always be there, no matter how far apart they were. And there was something comforting about that.
"Take care of yourself, Aithusa," Merlin said.
She chirped in response and then flapped her wings to take flight and depart into the night.
After being up all night and then dealing with Agravaine and Lancelot's testimony the following morning, it was a while before Merlin could check on his friend privately.
He let himself into Lancelot's room and closed the door behind him. "Hey."
Lancelot looked over from the window. "Hey."
"How are you doing?"
"I'm fully myself now," he reassured him. "No more jumbled or missing pieces."
Merlin smiled in relief. "Good."
"How's Arthur?"
"He's taking Agravaine's betrayal hard."
Merlin was trying to be sympathetic while also quashing the internal urge to yell he told him so.
"In brighter news, the wedding preparations are coming along." He paused. "How are you doing with that?"
"I will always love Gwen," Lancelot replied. "But I decided long ago not to stand between her and Arthur. I've only ever wanted her to be happy, and she is. I'm content with that."
Merlin shook his head fondly. "Kilgharrah was right; you are the most noble knight of them all."
And now Lancelot was back where he belonged, the wrongs of the past rectified, and a future disaster averted. Everything was right with the world.