Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.
Chapter Fifteen
Lancelot stared after Merlin for a few seconds, his expression mirroring Arthur's own shock, and then he rushed after him.
Arthur hesitated only for a moment before following. He had no idea what was happening, but there were three thoughts vying for attention in his mind: Merlin was upset, Merlin was ill, and Merlin was Emrys. And since all of those thoughts involved Merlin, going after his servant seemed like the logical move.
He heard them before he found them, the sounds of Merlin's gasping breaths and choked words drowning out the low and soothing tones of Lancelot's voice.
"I shouldn't have…you saw them. Oh gods. And Arthur saw. Arthur saw!" Merlin's eyes were glazed in an unseeing panic, and Arthur could see the lucidity of the past several minutes starting to fade as the fever took hold again.
The fever from the temple's magic.
The fever Maelor said would kill him.
"Merlin, just breathe," Lancelot ordered gently, his hands on his friend's shoulders. "It's all right. Just take a breath."
"I let them…" Merlin broke off and made a pained, inhuman sound that made Arthur flinch. "My mercy will be his downfall, Lancelot!"
"It was a false prophecy," Lancelot insisted. "You know that mercy is not a weakness. Especially not for someone as powerful as you are."
Merlin let out a strangled sob. "But the darkness…." He dropped to the ground so quickly that Arthur wasn't sure whether he sat intentionally or fell. "I am the only one of my kind," Merlin whispered. "I am alone, and the darkness…and now…now…" Merlin trailed off, his breathing too ragged to continue speaking.
"Stop," Lancelot ordered, crouching before him. "Merlin, listen to me. Who is Emrys?"
Merlin looked at Lancelot in confusion.
"Do you remember? Can you tell me? Who is Emrys, Merlin?"
It took several seconds, but Merlin finally replied. "Emrys is the name destiny gave to me years ago. It represents the path that was chosen for me." He spoke haltingly, but Arthur noted with relief that at least he was speaking in complete sentences.
"That's right," Lancelot encouraged. "And who is Merlin?"
Merlin's breath grew steadier and the words came more confidently this time, flowing in a rhythm like a poem he had memorized. "Merlin is the name my mother gave to me when I was born. It represents the path I choose for myself."
"And who are you?"
"I am both." He closed his eyes for a moment, some of the tension releasing from his body. He opened them and said again, "I am both."
"That's right," Lancelot repeated with a warm smile. "Now tell me, what is the purpose of your power?"
For a moment Merlin's focus sharpened again, staring at the man in front of him. "To serve and protect the Once and Future King."
Lancelot's smile grew into a grin. "There he is," he said, lightly slapping Merlin's cheek with affection. But despite the playfulness of his actions, his words were still cautious and careful. "See? You're all right. But I need you to do one more thing for me."
Merlin gave him a questioning look.
"I need for you to let go of the storm."
Merlin looked up at the sky, and Arthur followed his gaze. Dark clouds swirled above them, glowing with ominous flashes of lightning. He looked back to Merlin, who frowned.
"Sorry," his servant muttered, looking slightly confused. "I didn't mean to."
And just like that, the clouds paled and the lightning stopped, although the storm did not disperse.
Lancelot placed his hand against Merlin's cheek again, and this time his face tightened in concern. "You shouldn't be out of bed, my friend." He stood, reaching down to help Merlin up. But even though Merlin took the outstretched hand, his legs caved under him as he tried to stand. He landed hard on the ground and looked around, disoriented.
And then the skies opened up.
Lancelot tried again to help Merlin to his feet, and Arthur rushed over to them. The knight looked at him in alarm when he reached toward them, but accepted the assistance when Arthur pulled Merlin's arm around his shoulders.
Emrys's arm.
They ushered Merlin back to the cave, the rain drenching them within seconds, and somewhere in the back of his mind Arthur realized the other knights were following them. Had they been there the whole time?
The cave stayed quiet for several minutes, despite the flurry of activity. Gwaine and Leon fought with the wet wood, trying to get the fire going again, while Percival set the pan out to collect water and Elyan prepared the willow bark he had found earlier. Arthur and Lancelot wrestled Merlin's wet tunic off and wrapped him tightly in blankets.
Merlin's eyes moved blankly around the cave, but now that his panic had faded, he seemed completely unaware of his surroundings, and the heat of his skin was nearly painful to the touch. He may have remained upright and coherent with Maelor, but it seemed he was paying a price for it now.
Eventually, the fire was built, the tea administered, and Merlin slept. And then there was nothing else for Arthur to do but sit in the quiet. He leaned against the cave wall next to Lancelot, both of them at Merlin's side.
"You knew all along it was him," he said finally, breaking the silence but keeping his voice as low as he could.
Lancelot just nodded.
"My most loyal subject, my most faithful friend, and my strongest ally." Arthur recited the words from the druid. "I should have known, shouldn't I?" He let out a short laugh. "We ran around chasing our tails trying to find him, and if I had just thought about it for five seconds…I should have known."
Of course it was Merlin.
Lancelot insisted on taking first watch again that night, and Arthur wondered if it was because he didn't trust Arthur alone with Merlin. The knight hadn't asked what Arthur intended to do now he knew Merlin was a criminal, but Arthur knew Lancelot must be wondering.
Arthur was wondering too.
He lay awake after everyone else's snores filled the cave, replaying the scene from the woods. Merlin saying he was loyal to Arthur. Merlin threatening the entire cohort of priests. The sorceress bowing. The priests running from the power Merlin wielded.
Merlin falling to the ground in front of Lancelot.
All at once, his conversation with Lancelot from days ago came pouring back to him.
Frustrated, Arthur rolled from his side to his back, watching the firelight dance on the cave's ceiling. That conversation had haunted him before, but it was nothing compared to the way it crashed over him now.
The man Lancelot had described…powerful, but young and unsure, struggling with the weight of his destiny. It should have been hard to reconcile him with the goofy servant Arthur knew, but to Arthur's surprise, it wasn't difficult at all. He'd always felt there was some piece of Merlin that he hadn't quite fathomed out. Now he knew.
And the loneliness. Lancelot had described it, but the knight's explanation was nothing compared to hearing the anguish in Merlin's own words.
I am the only one of my kind. I am alone.
Arthur blinked against the wetness in his eyes, grateful for the darkness of the cave. He suddenly remembered the boy helping him into his armor for the first time, his impatience as Merlin struggled to get everything in place. He had been so…well, so young. Had he known then what he was destined for? And then he remembered Merlin, drinking that damned poison for him. They hardly even knew each other then, and Merlin had risked his life for Arthur.
How many times had Merlin the clumsy servant saved his life that Arthur knew about? And how many times had Emrys the guardian protected him in secret?
Arthur sighed heavily. He wanted to be angry. At the secrets, the lies, the crimes.
But he just couldn't find anger. All he could find was sorrow. Sorrow at the thought of Merlin's loneliness and fear. Sorrow at the thought that while Arthur was throwing goblets at him, Merlin was carrying this weight by himself. Arthur mocked him, and Merlin saved him.
And now, would he ever even have the chance to try to make it right? Or would Merlin die in this cave?
There will come a time when you know his identity, Arthur. And I pray to the gods that when that day comes, you will show compassion for him.
Arthur snorted into the darkness. Apparently, Lancelot had nothing to worry about there. Tomorrow, they would send for Gaius. Merlin would survive. And then…well, then Arthur would figure something out.
Gods help him.
-End of Part One-
AN: I've had panic attacks for many, many years, but I found it surprisingly difficult to try to convey the experience from an outsider's perspective. Especially since I've never had someone else successfully talk me down from one before. But I figure it there's anyone that could reach Merlin in that moment, it would be Lancelot, and I figure if there's anything that would ground him, it would be focusing on his purpose. I'll say that Merlin's attack was probably a little more logical and linear than mine have ever been (and more quickly resolved), but I feel like (maybe?) they probably look less chaotic from the outside than they seem from inside one's own head...