Strongest of the Warlocks: Chapter Eight: Effects of the Mortaeus Flower
AN: So…it's been awhile since I updated this fic, so I figured I might as well finish it and send it off since its been half-finished for about two months.
I know I was considering doing the whole 'Poisoned Chalice' chapter as one huge chapter, but I changed my mind, it's still in two parts.
Nimueh smirked in her garb as the handmaiden Cara to the royal house of Mercia. It had been far too easy to infiltrate the group traveling to Camelot for a peace conference to end a long war. It had been easier still to convince Merlin of the poison in Arthur's goblet had been put there by the King Bayard himself.
Now all she had to do was sit back and watch as Merlin took the goblet with a distinct glare towards Uther that showed so much contempt for the man that Nimueh was almost certain that it rivaled her own and raised it to her lips, swallowing one gulp of the drink, but it was more than enough.
It was like drinking fire, fire that burned from her lips down her throat to pool uncomfortably in her stomach. She gasped for breath and Arthur's eyes widened.
"Merlin!"
He barely caught her before she hit the ground, the goblet rolling out of her grasp, the poisoned liquid fanning out onto the ground. She was barely conscious, her eyes just slivers of dark blue.
Gwen squeezed between the guards who were now pointing their swords at King Bayard and his men so that she could crouch down with Gaius to inspect her fallen friend.
"Merlin? Can you hear me?" Gaius asked loudly, drawing at the skin around her eye so he could see the dilated eye more clearly. "We have to get her back to my chambers. Bring the goblet, I need to identify the poison."
Arthur nodded grimly, hooking one arm under her knees and the other to her back, lifting the slim young woman with ease as Gwen knelt to grasp the fallen goblet, the last of the poison sloshing within it as she followed after Gaius and Arthur, worry lining her face at the sight of Merlin's unmoving form.
They walked speedily towards the quarters of the Court Physician and were there faster than it typically took when walking from the great hall to there, though Gwen suspected that this might have had a little to do with her being distracted by Merlin.
"Lay her on the bed, quickly," Gaius nearly barked to the prince, "she's struggling to breathe." Arthur lay Merlin down as carefully as he could manage, as though afraid that if he jostled her too much the poison would act more quickly. "Gwen, fetch me some water and a towel."
Gwen rushed off to do as he asked and both Arthur and Gaius knelt beside the bed as Merlin breathed in short stuttering breaths.
"Is she going to be alright?" he insisted as Gaius felt Merlin's brow only to discover it was burning as though enflamed.
"She's burning up," Gaius murmured as Gwen returned and handed him the towel and bucket.
"You can cure her, can't you, Gaius?" Gwen pressed as Gaius wet the towel and pasted it against his ward's pasty forehead.
Merlin's eyes fluttered open slightly. The lights were so bright and the sounds echoed in her ears.
"I won't know until I can identify the poison," Gaius said shortly. "Pass me the goblet."
Merlin's head lolled in Arthur's general direction. She could barely make out the light color of his hair and the blue of his eyes. "Buck-ket," she gasped out, shocking all three who hadn't been expecting her to be lucid, let alone speak with such a dose of poison.
Then Arthur sprang to action, grabbing the first bucket he could find that wasn't filled with any sort of liquid, thrusting it to the space beside her just fast enough to cough out bile.
"Is the poison making her sick?" Arthur asked, worry evident in his voice.
"No, that's all Merlin," Gaius said, pulling her back to the bed, "she's buying herself some time by regurgitating what poison she can." He smiled at her. "Clever girl."
Her eyes were closed and her skin clammy but her lips twisted into a barest of smiles. "I do try," she rasped.
"Get her some water," Gaius told Gwen, as he moved back to examine the goblet, "there's something stuck on the inside…"
"How are you feeling, Merlin?" Gwen asked her friend in concern as she lifted her head slightly to help her swallow noisily.
"Like my insides have been burned by dragon-fire," Merlin rasped with difficulty.
She certainly looked it, Arthur had to privately agree. It seemed to take a great deal of effort to open her eyes even slightly and talking seemed to be just as difficult.
Looking at her just made him feel worse so Arthur moved to speak with Gaius, leaving Gwen to mop at her friend's sweaty forehead with a cloth.
"What is it?" Arthur asked. "Did you find something?"
Gaius pulled a rather transparent petal from the goblet. "A petal of some kind…I can't be sure of what exactly…"
"Her brow's on fire," Gwen mentioned from beside the bed. "Merlin? Merlin, are you still awake?"
"Mm," she mumbled.
"Keep her cool," Gaius warned, as Gwen pressed another wet rag to her forehead, "it'll help control the fever." He trailed a finger down the pages of the heavy tome he was glancing through, comparing the petal he was holding in his clippers to the ones of the flowers in the book. "Ah, here it is! The petal comes from the Mortaeus flower. It says here that someone poisoned by the Mortaeus can only be saved by a potion made from the leaf of the very same flower. It can only be found in the caves deep beneath the Forest of Balor. The flower grows on the roots of the Mortaeus tree."
Arthur frowned at the passage, tapping at the inked monster with the forked tongue on the page. "That's not particularly friendly," he mentioned.
"A Cockatrice," Gaius had to agree with him there, "it guards the forest. Its venom is potent. A single drop would mean certain death. Few who have crossed the Mountains of Isgaard in search of the Mortaeus flower have made it back alive."
It was a clear warning, if Arthur had ever heard one, and he certainly had, each from his father.
He looked to where Merlin lay, so pale that she almost seemed translucent. He complained about her so much but he would have never thought that she'd be willing to die for him; that was a side of her he had not expected.
Arthur looked down to the page once more, clearing his throat. "Sounds like fun."
"Don't," Merlin gasped from the bed, her eyes fluttering in an attempt to keep them open.
"You'd rather die?" Arthur demanded, glaring at her.
Merlin couldn't even manage a scowl in return. "Ther-re are better thing-gs to die f-for."
Arthur ignored that and he wasn't the only one. "What happens if I don't get the flower to her?"
Gaius' eyes fell to his ward, concern lining his aged face. "The Mortaeus induces a slow and painful death," he said quietly. "She may hold out for four, maybe five days, she may last longer since she regurgitated some of the poison but…eventually she will die."
Strangely enough, Merlin had never considered death, but if given a choice, poisoning would not have been the way to go. So when she opened her eyes to find herself in place quite unlike the one that had been in, she automatically thought the worst.
"No, no, no!" She said, looking around feverishly. "I can't be dead, I-I just closed my eyes—"
"What do you do, in your village, I mean?"
Merlin blinked as she turned on her heel to stare at the image before her. It was her, from two years ago, her eyes bluer and innocent and her dark tangled braid not as long and falling out of the plait that was flung over one shoulder as she picked at the berries nestling in the bush before them.
Percival was leaning against the base of a tree, cradling his own few berries.
"My father and I are blacksmiths," he told her, his deep voice resonating in Merlin's ears as her younger self contemplated the few-years-older man.
"Do you miss it?" she asked.
"Some days more than others," Percival said, glancing around the forest. "It is peaceful here, quiet…beautiful," his eyes had flicked briefly towards her at that, a movement that was not missed by Merlin, whose cheeks had burned bright pink. "But I will return."
Merlin's smile didn't falter, though it did become a bit sad. "I know…when are you planning to leave?"
"When I am healed," Percival said, "and when I've paid my debt."
"And you won't be able to until that wound's healed up," Merlin said lightly, lifting her canteen to her lips. "And it won't be able to heal unless you stop moving around."
A smile touched his lips, similar to the one that the current Merlin bore. That had been a good day. The infection on his wound had gone down so she'd taken him to get a bit of fresh air, and it had done them both good.
One of the village farmers, Andrew, was quite disapproving of Merlin using precious resources to heal someone who wasn't even a part of their village.
"My godfather used to meet me here when I was younger," Merlin said after a long moment, glancing around at the trees and the growing plants that flourished in the light that filtered through the branches of the trees. "I'd come and he would teach about flowers and herbs and show me which ones you could mix together, which ones were good and which ones were bad."
"He sounds like a good man," Percival said, watching how she smiled softly at the memory of him.
"Oh, he is," Merlin agreed with certainty, "but the village doesn't really approve of him since he's a Druid."
"That's a shame," Percival said with a frown. Druids had a habit of coming and going in his village, but they had never considered them to be as dangerous as most others thought them to be. The only Druids he had ever come to meet were ones who had a similar kindness to Merlin, though nowhere near as sharp a tongue or as fiery a spirit as the dark-haired girl possessed.
"Isn't it?" Merlin mused, spinning her finger into the earth, carving a Druidic Triskel into the dirt, hidden by the grass.
She had never understood as a child why she had had to hide her association with Iseldir just as much as she had hidden her magic and now that she was older, she understood even less.
Why did she have to hide who she was when no one else did? Why did she have to live a lie when no one else did?
"I'm sure you'll see him again."
Merlin's lips curled as she looked into his eyes. "I'm sure I will too…he liked to say the world is a constant circle…we always make it back to the people that matter in the end."
The people that matter had always been a strange way to put it, in Merlin's opinion. Why not say the people you love or the people you trust? But the people that mattered didn't necessarily fit into that category.
Arthur was furious as he threw open the double doors that led into his chambers and tossed his sword down on the table like a petulant child that hadn't gotten his way, but he couldn't help it, not after what his father had done.
First he'd refused him the right to search for Merlin's only cure, and then he'd ordered him to remain in the castle.
He was stung by how he'd said that her life was worth less than his, it was such a heartless thing to say about the woman who had just saved his life, and then telling him not to look when she died? That was…that was unlike anything he would have ever thought his father would say.
Arthur gritted his teeth behind his lips as he leaned over the fireplace, stilling wearing his chainmail, ignoring the heat of the fire.
If Merlin were here she would have made a joke about him wanting to roast alive if he stood close to a fire with all that metal.
But Merlin wasn't here and the king was denying him his only chance to change that.
He hardly noticed as Morgana quietly entered the room, her face set in a mask of seriousness as she tried to lighten the mood.
"Say what you like about the food," she said, startling him into turning to see her, "but you can't beat our feast for entertainment." Morgana tried to smile, but it didn't really come out properly; Arthur knew she was friends with Merlin too, but she was faring better than Gwen by far.
"Morgana," he said, turning away from her, his tone distracted, "I'm sorry, I should have made sure you were alright." Regretfully, he had actually forgotten all about his father's ward in the chaos and confusion concerning the poisoning.
"Disappointed actually," Morgana said lightly, taking a few more steps forward, "I was looking forward to clumping a couple around the head with a ladle."
Arthur's face formed into a rather dry expression as he turned to face her at long last. "I'm sure the guards could have handled Bayard and his men," he said decisively.
"Yes," Morgana couldn't help but smirk, "but why let the boys have all the fun?"
It was something like what Merlin would have said. Arthur wondered if she was being that way on purpose or if the dark-haired Physician-in-training was rubbing off on her.
"Morgana, you shouldn't get involved. It's dangerous," Arthur warned her.
"When did that ever stop Merlin," Morgana retorted easily, her eyes flashing dangerously in the firelight, making Arthur groan in exasperation; she knew just which points to press on to aggravate him, especially concerning the events of the night. "Save your breath and spare me the lecture, I've already had it from Uther."
"If it's any consolation," Arthur said, leaning his back against the side of the fireplace and looking to the ceiling, his lips set in a frown, "you weren't the only one."
"Not that I listened to him," Morgana added, seeing how his desire to help Merlin was becoming hopeless in his mind. "Sometimes you've got to do what you think is right, and damn the consequences."
Morgana had never been good at following the rules, but he had never had her try to convince him to go against his father's wishes; of course, he had never particularly had the desire to do so before, so the need had never arisen. Morgana was the clever one, not him, but even he knew that getting out of the castle would be no easy task.
But it wasn't just about him.
"You think I should go?" he asked her in all seriousness.
"It doesn't matter what I think," Morgana remarked coolly, gazing at him with eyes that dared, dared him to do better and be better.
The likeness between her and Merlin were startling (for all Arthur knew they could have been half-sisters and Merlin was just the bastard).
"If I don't make it back, who will be the next king of Camelot?" he demanded, his eyes narrowing as he held his arms by his sides, giving her his complete attention. "There's more than just my life at stake."
There was the line of succession to think about. As much as his father was wrong about things, the one thing he wasn't wrong about was that without Arthur, Uther wouldn't have an heir.
"And what kind of king would Camelot want?" Morgana asked, quirking an eyebrow as she tilted her head slightly, her carefully crafted curls falling over one shoulder. "One that would risk his life to save that of a lowly servant?" She pulled his sword from its sheath to hold it flat against her palms as she held it out to him. "Or one who does what his father tells him to?"
In the end, Arthur already knew his decision, and he grasped the blade from Morgana.
"You know he's not going to be happy with either of us," he said as he bound his sword to his waist.
"He's never happy," Morgana responded dryly, as if it wasn't much of a break of character, which it wasn't. "Besides, what's the worst he can do to either of us?"
Arthur wasn't sure the worst his father could do, but he was sure that he might get inventive…maybe even throw Arthur in the cells for a few days to relieve him of his tendencies to disobey authority (though that seemed unlikely to work).
"Can you distract the guards for me?" he asked her and he almost regretted it with the feral grin she gave him in reply.
"It would be my pleasure," she said before striding out of the room.
Time was of the essence, Arthur knew, and his maid-servant's life was hanging in the balance.
"How is she?" Leon asked as Merlin slowly came round, everything around her fuzzy.
"She had a few fits in the night," Gaius said gravely, sighing deeply, "but she is resting peacefully now."
"Fits?" Gwen sounded nervous and apprehensive, her voice coming out a bit like a squeak. "What do you mean?"
"It's her body's way of fighting off the poison," Gaius explained, "she is doing better than I expected, better than I hoped, but she's been training to be a Physician most of her life, it's possible she exposed herself to a part of the poison at some point and has built a resistance against that part as a result."
"That helps us doesn't it?" Gwen asked eagerly.
"Yes, it does," Gaius had to concede, "her immunity will slow down the poison but it won't stop it completely…and it's still progressing faster than I would like."
"What does that mean?" Leon demanded.
"It means…its possible an enchantment was used during its preparation to increase its potency," Gaius murmured more to himself than the other two as he glanced over the words in one of his books on the poisonous flower.
"An enchantment?" Gwen's lips automatically formed into a frown at the thought of magic. "But Bayard's no sorcerer."
"No, he isn't," Gaius agreed, "and even if he was, he wouldn't have had the kind of power to perform such an enchantment."
"Who does?" Leon asked, his eye falling to his friend. Her skin had taken a sickly grey sheen that told of just how ill she was. Her breaths were shallow, her chest only rising so far, as it taking a deep breath would hurt too much, which was very likely given her condition.
Realization struck Gaius. "It can't have been," he said, again speaking more to himself than the other two. "She wouldn't dare come here. Unless..."
The image flashed before his mind of Merlin lagging behind to point one of the servant girls in Bayard's company up the side staircase that led to the company. The girl had given her a thankful smile before she had taken the staircase.
"Unless what?" Gwen pressed. "What is it, Gaius? Have you remembered something?"
"What happened to that girl?" Gaius asked.
Leon glanced towards Gwen. "Which girl? There were many at the banquet."
"Just before Merlin burst into the hall one of Bayard's serving girls took her outside," Gaius explained, "it was the same one that asked her for directions to the chambers Bayard and his company were staying in."
"She had dark hair," Gwen recalled, "and blue eyes…very beautiful." Her eyes shifted to Merlin who shared those characteristics.
"Find her," Gaius ordered, "quickly."
Gwen stood quickly when Merlin made a noise as she inhaled through her nose quickly and all eyes flashed to her, but she barely roused.
"Go," Gaius said, "Merlin is in safe hands."
Gwen nodded reluctantly before tearing out of the room to search the dungeons for the girl she knew in her heart was responsible for Merlin's current condition.
"Should you really be here, Sir Leon?" Gaius asked the knight. "I'm sure the king will need all his knights."
"He will," Leon agreed, "however, the king is distracted by his son disobeying him, I'm not sure any of our presences would soothe the troubles of his mind."
"You can do no more help here," Gaius reminded him patiently. "Merlin will not get better simply by us wishing it."
"One could…hope," Merlin rasped and both men started.
"Merlin!" Gaius cried in relief and even Leon smiled.
Her eyes were barely open, but that dark impossible blue could not have been mistaken peering from under her sweaty locks that were quickly pushed to the side.
"How do you feel?" Gaius asked and her eyes drifted out of focus.
"Merlin?" Leon asked this time.
"I was…dreaming," she smiled, and Leon knew he'd never seen her smile like that before. "It…was nice."
Gaius didn't bother asking her who she was dreaming about; she had never really given him a straight answer before concerning the letters she got by raven at random intervals of time.
"Yes, but how do you feel?" he asked insistently.
Merlin's lips drew downwards as she forced her mind to clear. "Burning," she finally said, "…from the…inside." The feeling hadn't changed much in the night.
"Is that normal?" Leon asked in worry.
"Nothing about this is normal at all," Gaius admitted. "The burning sensation is not doubt caused by the poison, just as her fever was…it probably spread upwards when she forced a bit of the poison out, which is why it's so painful to talk."
Merlin's eyes slid shut, but Gaius could tell that she was still awake as he lifted the back of her neck, helping her swallow a few gulps of water.
It was barely moments later that Gwen entered in a rush, breathless and flushed from running to the dungeons and back.
"Did you find the sorceress?" Leon asked immediately.
Gwen shook her head feverishly. "No, no one's seen her since the banquet. Who is she?"
"Not who she claims to be," Gaius said shrewdly, replacing the damp cloth to his ward's forehead. "She told Merlin her name was Cara. Though, that's not her name. Not her real name, anyway. She is a powerful sorceress."
"Fooled…me," Merlin whispered.
"That's not your fault," Gaius reprimanded her lightly. "I knew her once, I should have been able to recognize her."
"Merlin!" Gwen uttered in relief at the sound of her friend's voice, falling beside her in relief. "You're awake!"
Merlin's lips twisted. "…Worried?"
"Of course I'm worried!" Gwen retorted passionately.
"We may have another problem," Gaius said after a short moment.
"Other than a sorceress on the loose?" Leon asked sardonically.
"Yes," Gaius said, his tone betraying just how serious the matter was. "She knows the only place an antidote can be found is the Forest of Balor. Arthur could be walking into a trap.
That boded ill for Arthur.
AN: I hope you all enjoyed the inclusion of Leon into the people huddled around Merlin's sickbed, I really like him as a character, and I enjoy writing his sibling-like relationship with Merlin
PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW!
