Over the next week, Arthur had very kingly resolved to taking several short trips to the physician's chambers, most often accompanied by his queen. He had explained to the counsel and his advisors that he wished to keep a close eye on the sorcerer by checking on him personally, and continuing his heavy guard at the healer's courters.
On one of his lone trips, he had taken to reading one of Gaius's legendary history books. He had happened upon a peculiar story of a great king and a powerful sorcerer uniting the kingdoms of Albion in a time of peace and prosperity. He took up a seat at the table, strangely intrigued by this tale. Thinking back, he remembered hearing something akin to this in his childhood. In his youth he had once had a caretaker, a woman who told him a similar story as he fell asleep. But he couldn't shake the feeling that she seemed fearful in her rendition of the myth.
In his efforts to remember more about his caretaker, he was disturbed by a nearby groan. Annoyed at losing his train of thought, he looked around the room expecting the noise to originate from the old entrance to the physician's chambers that would inevitably be the person to whom the chambers belonged.
Finding no such thing, he looked around to see the growingly familiar sight of a patient lying on a cot nearby the fire pit, starting to fidget, taking rasping breaths in discomfort.
Merlin squirmed as Gaius's numbing potion wore off. His vision was blurred when he saw the world swimming indistinctly around him again. He would quickly tried to clear it and feebly call for his mentor to have another potion to rid himself of the pain that would, of course, be combined with another sleeping draft and he would be dragged back to the comforting darkness.
His life was often much easier there; he was back in Ealdor with his mother, father, Will, and occasionally his lost love Freya. He felt as though a weight had lifted and felt uninhibited by any force where no one needed to be saved, because there was no danger. Magic was free and accepted as an extension of oneself, magic was a gift, not capable of evil, not a curse. Vaguely he was aware that of becoming increasingly fond of the potions that would take him back to that life he had often dreamed of, later waking to the realization that it was entirely impossible.
This time while in his perfect oblivion, Lancelot made an appearance, accompanied by a concerned, sympathetic expression. Merlin wondered why the man would carry such a heavy look in his features when he was happy and with his loved ones. Others emerged from the darkness behind him, including every friendly face he had come to know that possessed magic, Gili, Mayda, the hunted Druids, and occasionally Morgana, the way she was before he had pushed her away when she learned of her power. He took in all their faces, then turn to face Freya again finding the same grieved appearance. Turning to face the sorcerers again, his confusion ended as he remembered the trials he had faced with them. The Druid's minds began to reach out, growing from a distant echo to a fiery ringing in his ears. Unidentifiable pain caused him to snap his eyes shut, grip his head and cry out.
This time however, Gaius did not come to his aid. Instead, he came into consciousness able to make out a familiar blonde head entering his still slightly blurred vision. He squeezed his eyes shut against the light pouring from the window and bouncing off and pooling in the golden hair.
His eyes reopened, acting on reflexes adopted by recent events he instantly tried to struggle away from the king, Arthur rushed to put a hand on his good shoulder to stop him before he could injure himself further.
"Merlin. I-" he paused casting his eyes downward, trying to sort out his thoughts. There was so much he wanted to say. He wanted to rant at him for lying to him, betraying him. He wanted to question him relentlessly, and thank him. The most prominent attribute he wanted was to be shown clemency, to be forgiven. In spite of this he had to be the diplomat he had been raised to be, realizing what subject was the most pertinent for him to address first, putting the sake of his servant before his own wishes. "The men who shot you were placed in the dungeons, and have been thrown in the stocks for disobeying orders."
The look that flashed through Merlin's eyes was one Arthur hated more then anything. It was a wall of skepticism and mistrust. A wall he had built to protect himself, one the king had made him create.
The warlock frowned guardedly. "Whose orders?"
Arthur face fell to one of a determined air. "Mine."
This only caused Merlin's frown to deepen, suspicion and doubt coloring his tone. "Why?"
The knight steeled himself to explain the most prevailing reason he knew, one that he had used with his counsel. "I am not sure what power you possess Merlin, but you saved Guinevere." He replied, hoping he sounded as genuinely grateful as he felt.
Merlin's glower remained while he dropped his gaze from the blonde. "And that has purged me of my sins?" he asked in a wavering, but hash voice.
Before Arthur contemplate this or have a reply, the main door creaked open to reveal the queen herself. She paused a moment in shock to take in the sight before her; Merlin, lucid, remaining in the room, and speaking to the king.
She left her deep purple dress to flutter behind her as she ran across the room to the other side of the warlock, enveloping him in a tight embrace.
Merlin's eyes widened in shock at the queen's instant reaction to him, moments later letting out a grunt of suppressed pain when his shoulder began to protest.
Gwen released her hold, tears dancing in her eyes. "Sorry." She amended, smiling slightly.
"How are you feeling?" Merlin asked concerned, searching her face. "I- look it was the only way to save you I'm sorr-"
She stopped his rushed apology by putting a hand on his arm, and looked incisively into his eyes. "No, Merlin. I can never repay you for what you have done. Thank you for saving my life." She said sincerely, determined to make him understand.
Merlin sat there stunned as she finished, struggling to keep stunned relief from spilling from his increasingly clouded eyes. Crying could be seen as a show of weakness, and embarrassment. He was not prepared to fall in front of those that he did not trust to catch him. How was she not angry with him given the method he used to save her? Arthur had locked up the people who had shot him. Was that for his safety or simply for disobeying their king?
The knight watched the injured man, mind swarming with questions and uncertainties. He looked at a loss to do anything. The king looked over to his wife, who met his eye and they silently agreed that it was not yet time for the conversation Arthur had wanted to have.
"Merlin, why don't you have something to eat? Gaius asked me to keep an eye on you, and offer you something if you woke." He lied smoothly, because he had not been there every time he could escape his duties, nor did he occasionally take a secret root to the physician's chambers as to not to raise suspicion, because kings would not take part in such things.
As if waiting for an introduction, Gaius opened the door to his chambers, looking over to his now very much awake ward. He had not been lucid in nearly a week, and now he had been talking to the king and queen. Concerned at how much his ward could take at once, but relieved all the same, he rushed over to the young man. Arthur stood from his chair beside Merlin and allowed the physician a moment with the servant. Gaius squeezed his good shoulder affectionately.
"It's good to see you, my boy."
That seemed to jar the warlock, from his uncertainties and turned his attention fully to his mentor.
Arthur and Gwen took this as the point where they should leave, and silently exited the room.
As soon as the king and queen had made their way out of the room, the physician smiled and stood to fetch him some bread and broth, but before he could, something caught his arm. He looked back to a, now very shaken, young man.
"Gaius?" he asked brokenly.
The warlock would often dream of his friends, thinking of the times they had shared together, the positive and regretful. His mind had begun to create places where they would individually be with him a moment, giving him encouragement or attempt to sympathize him, only to disappear and leave him in darkness. Leading him to be apprehensive of saying their names, verbally reaching out to them, for fear they would leave his company again.
Gaius's face paled at Merlin's broken voice and pleading expression. Without waiting another moment in fear the young man would shatter completely, he grabbed him, locking the traumatized boy securely in his arms.
Merlin had been alone for a nearly a month. Out there, he had to suppress anything he felt he could to keep his magic in check, stay alive, and protect himself. But he couldn't anymore. The embrace from the one person he could always confide in when ever he felt he needed advice, had given him the knowledge that he craved. That it was real. Finally letting his guard down, he allowed himself to be comforted by his mentor, and let his tears fall freely into the old man's shoulder.
After the sobs subsided and he took a few deep breaths, he withdrew from Gaius's hold and offered him a small watery smile. The physician returned the smile, knowing that he had needed that. He gently patted his head and went to make something for his ever thinning ward.
Merlin gingerly took the bowl from him, insisting he could use his good arm to eat, to which the physician obliged and stacked a few pillows behind him. At first it was a shaky process, having gone without any substantial food for so long. But once he had tucked in, he was cautioned a few times by his mentor to take it slowly.
"He was acting oddly Gaius. Why did he lock up his men for shooting a sorcerer? I'm an outlaw, so why am I not the one in the cells or on the chopping block? I knew the law, and went against it."
The physician sighed. "Since you left, the majority of the city has been in an uproar. Most are offended by the idea that Arthur wanted to speak with you and have you healed. Some are, surprised, yes, but they are also taking your side. The difference in opinion has led to brawls, people fleeing, frightened their lives maybe in danger for voicing their beliefs, and the burning of fields and houses." He finished sitting back in his chair.
But Merlin was slowly coming back, never failing to see a bright side. "So, I haven't failed yet?" he asked in relief, the feeling of full stomach easing him into a natural sleep.
I haven't failed. He thought, hope beginning to flicker within him again as he drifted off.
Thank you for reading! Hope you are enjoying the story so far. I look forward to your comments!