Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.
Chapter Ten
Dawn was only a few hours away before the knights settled in to sleep. Merlin's revelation had caused a great deal of excitement, but in addition to that, Arthur knew that no one was eager to face the maera again, and therefore no one was eager to sleep, regardless of how tired they might be.
As the conversation finally died down and they each started staking out their piece of ground, Arthur caught Merlin's eye and nodded to Leon. Merlin obediently made his way over to the knight, kneeling beside him. He looked pale and weak; it had not been a good idea for him to go so long without rest.
"Leon?" Merlin asked softly, and the knight looked over in surprise.
"What is it?" he asked, trying to sit up.
"No, stay," Merlin said hurriedly. "I just wanted to offer…I could do more. To heal you, I mean."
"If you're willing," Arthur interjected. "If you don't want to be healed by magic, you won't be." Arthur already felt slightly guilty that Merlin had healed Leon some without permission, although it had had been necessary to save his life. But if the knight didn't want magic to be used on him again, he wouldn't force it.
Leon studied Merlin's face in the dark. "You could do that?" he asked uncertainly.
"I can't heal you completely," Merlin admitted. "But I can help."
Leon hesitated for a moment, then laughed. "Healed by magic," he said under his breath. "All right. Let's do it."
Even in the dark, Arthur could see Merlin's face light up just a little bit, although he wasn't sure if it was because he got to do magic or because the knight trusted him enough to allow it.
"Oh, I want to see this." Gwaine scrambled up from where he had just laid down.
Merlin tensed. "It's not a performance, Gwaine," he said shortly.
"Just pretend I'm not here," the knight replied cheerfully, sitting down several feet away to watch. Elyan and Percival crept closer as well, although more subtly than Gwaine.
Merlin laughed nervously. "I'm not used to doing this with an audience," he admitted. "It's a little weird."
Leon frowned, nervous now as well. "You're not going to accidentally turn me into a horse because you're distracted, are you?"
Merlin let out a real laugh this time. "No, I don't think so. The only risk is that it wouldn't work. But I've done this a thousand times—" he stopped short.
"On me?" Leon's head popped up in alarm, and Merlin shrugged.
"On all of you," he admitted sheepishly. "You have to admit, you all get hurt an awful lot."
Leon looked to Arthur. "This is a little surreal," he said, sounding dazed.
"This has been my life for the past week," Arthur muttered, and Leon laughed.
"Okay." He laid his head back down. "I'm ready.
Merlin glanced around again at all the faces staring at him, then cleared his throat and focused on Leon, his hands hovering over his chest. Leon's face was pulled tight in a grimace, as though he were waiting for pain.
"Ic hæle þina þrowunga," Merlin said softly, and for the second time, Arthur saw the gold overtake his eyes.
"Whoa," Gwaine muttered, wide-eyed.
Merlin stayed frozen for a few more seconds, his eyes bright. Leon gasped, eyes flying open, his back arched. He took a few deep, rattling breaths, and then his body relaxed back down to the ground. Merlin fell to the side, catching himself before he hit the ground.
"How is it?" Merlin asked, scrambling back into a sitting position. "How do you feel?"
Leon sat up tentatively, gently patting the wounds that were hidden under his shirt. "I feel great," he said in surprise. "I mean, not great. But compared to before." He rotated slightly, testing the movements. "I think I could fight, if I had to," he said with satisfaction.
"Well, get some sleep," Arthur advised. "We all need some rest before we fight again."
He stood, and offered his hand to Merlin to help him to his feet. Merlin's eyes widened in surprise at the offer, but he accepted it. As Arthur expected, he stumbled as he found his feet.
"It took a lot out of you, didn't it?" Arthur asked him quietly as they made their way to a separate spot a little ways away from the knights. This time Arthur didn't even question Merlin following him.
"Healing spells have always been more difficult for me than other types of magic," Merlin admitted, sounding irritated by the fact. "They take more effort, and I fail at them more often. Which is annoying, considering how often I need them. And I just healed Leon far, far more than I would typically."
"Can you heal yourself?" Arthur asked after they had settled in.
"Sometimes. It always depends on the injury or illness. Some things respond to magic better than others."
Arthur deliberated for a moment. He was torn, wanting to stay silent for the sake of his pride, but eventually deciding that saying nothing would be unnecessarily spiteful and cruel.
"Could you heal a fractured rib that came from someone punching you?" He received silence in response. "I've seen the way you've been moving, and I know riding isn't helping. If you're going to fight this thing, you need to be well."
"Yes," Merlin said. "I can heal it."
"Then do it." A thought occurred to Arthur. "Why didn't you heal it already, in the dungeons? No one would have noticed."
Merlin was quiet long enough that Arthur thought he might not answer. Then he replied, "It didn't seem right."
"Why not?"
"The lies. The secrets. I felt like maybe I kind of deserved to get punched. I didn't feel right just healing it."
"A penance," Arthur realized.
"Something like that."
"Earlier," Arthur said. "You almost said 'monster,' didn't you? When you said you were unique?" He'd caught the slip at the time, and spent several minutes trying to figure out what started with "mon" that would make sense.
"What else would I be?" Merlin asked. "I'm different from everyone else. I always have been."
"Born completely different. With different powers. Different responsibilities. A weight on your shoulders that others might think they understand, but couldn't possibly."
Merlin snorted. "I think being born a prince is a little bit different, Arthur. It's not something you have to hide. It's not something to be ashamed of. It wouldn't get you killed if people found out."
Arthur nodded, although he knew Merlin couldn't see it in the dark. "I guess so." He paused. "Do you think it's something you should be ashamed of?"
"I don't know," Merlin whispered, sounding lost. "Sometimes I'm proud of my power. Of what I'm able to accomplish. And I never feel more alive than when I'm doing magic. But sometimes I feel like I'm just…wrong. Like I don't belong here. Like I could never belong anywhere."
Arthur could understand bits and pieces. The bittersweetness of loving the good he could do with his power contrasted against the isolation it caused.
"Do you think I'm a monster?" Merlin asked. The question came out rough, the emotion behind it unignorable.
Was Merlin a monster? Arthur had thought more hateful things about Merlin in the past week than in all the years they had known each other combined. He'd called him a liar, a traitor, a criminal, a sneak, a manipulator.
But a monster?
And unbidden, he remembered those words again.
'And how long have you been training to be a prat?'
Before he could stop it, a laugh escaped him.
"No," he said. "Don't get me wrong. There's still a lot I don't know about you, and that disturbs me. And I'm still angry at you. But I don't believe you're a monster."
"Thank you," Merlin whispered.
A few minutes later, Arthur heard him snoring, and he resituated himself to a sitting position.
He would not sleep until dawn. He would not risk birthing the maera from his nightmare. But shortly before dawn, Merlin began twitching and whimpering in his sleep. After a couple of minutes, Arthur reached over and shook him.
"Merlin, wake up."
His servant shot upright, eyes wild and body shaking. He took several gasping breaths before his eyes cleared and looked at Arthur in fear.
"You had the nightmare, didn't you?"
The group did not stir until midmorning. Normally Arthur would be irritated at getting a late start, but given the situation, he preferred they all get some of their sleep in during the day when they could rest without fear.
"Arthur," Merlin asked as they broke camp. "Will you let me do something?"
"That's a dangerously vague question."
"Let me heal your hand." Arthur looked at him in surprise. "You've been favoring it again since you fought the maera. And since I'm on this kick of healing spells," Merlin winced at that, "I think it would be good to go ahead and get your fighting hand back to full ability. Or close to, at least."
Arthur hesitated. He knew Merlin had healed him before. He'd watched Merlin heal Leon twice now. But the idea of someone performing magic on him sent his pulse racing and made him want to reach for his sword.
But Merlin had a good point. If Arthur needed to fight again soon – and odds are he would – he needed his hand.
"You want to perform magic on the king," Arthur said flatly.
"Yes, I do." Merlin looked nervous, but his voice was steady.
This was a bad idea. Arthur knew it was a bad idea. What kind of idiot king would willingly open himself up to sorcery? Who knew how a sorcerer could turn that to his advantage?
But this wasn't just a sorcerer. This was Merlin. And despite everything, Arthur didn't believe Merlin intended to harm him.
"Fine," he muttered through gritted teeth, sticking out his hand. And once again, he heard Merlin chant the words that were becoming familiar. When the light burst into Merlin's eyes, Arthur's stomach jumped and his heart raced, but he didn't feel the same depths of terror he had the first time he saw it happen.
And then he felt it. His hand relaxed, the pain easing.
It was, he realized uncomfortably, a familiar feeling. There was a slight rush of warmth, and then it felt cool, the heat of the inflammation gone.
"You're done that before," he murmured, making and unmaking a fist, feeling nothing but traces of soreness.
"I already told you that," Merlin pointed out.
"Yes, but now I know it. I've felt that before. Many times."
Merlin smiled. "Many, many times."
Arthur had only been into the Valley of the Fallen Kings a few times, and he didn't like it now any more than he had in the past. You could almost feel the magic in the air. It was too quiet and too loud, all at the same time.
"So where are we headed?" Gwaine asked as they eased their way into the valley.
"Merlin?" Arthur asked. "You hear anything calling to you?"
Merlin stared hard into the valley, then nudged his horse into a walk. "Yes," he replied darkly. "I hear it."
"I feel like that's supposed to be good news," Gwaine pointed out, "but you make it sound like bad news."
Merlin thought for a minute, a troubled look on his face. "I don't like the way it sounds," he said finally.
The closer they drew to the Ainthia, the more disturbed Merlin looked. He didn't say much, but he moved confidently, never slowing down to consider which way to go.
"Does it sound evil?" Arthur finally asked. He wasn't sure what they would do if their only possible weapon to fight the maera turned out to be evil.
"Not evil," Merlin replied after a moment's consideration. "But there's something unpleasantly familiar about it."
Finally, Merlin pulled to a stop and climbed down from his horse, the others following his lead. He turned to look at the cliff rising up beside them, studying it thoughtfully. Then he closed his eyes and walked along it slowly, running his hand lightly over the rock as he walked. He paused once or twice, a look of concentration on his face, then continued again.
"I wonder how long it will take for this not to be weird," Gwaine whispered to Arthur. "Watching Merlin do magicky things."
"I'm pretty sure this will always be weird." How could it not be weird? Magic was abnormal. Unnatural.
Merlin stopped, then took a step back the direction he had come. Then he opened his eyes and turned to face the rock.
"It's here," he said slowly, staring at the cliff.
"Buried in the wall?" Arthur asked skeptically.
"I think so." Merlin placed his fingertips against the rock and glanced at Arthur. "May I…?"
Arthur wasn't entirely sure what form of magic Merlin was intending to do, but he nodded his approval.
He almost immediately wished he hadn't. The rock in front of Merlin started vibrating, and Arthur could feel the ground rattling under his feet. Slowly, the rock began to turn to sand and fall away, leaving a hole in the wall. After several seconds, Merlin stopped, leaning over to peer into the hole.
Arthur glanced at his knights. Leon and Elyan looked terrified, Percival looked cautious, and Gwaine's eyes were wide with awe.
"Did you just cause an earthquake?" Gwaine demanded excitedly.
"What?" Merlin's voice echoed back distractedly from the hole. "Of course not. Don't be ridiculous." But he didn't provide any additional explanation. "There's something in here. I can't quite get it though."
Merlin reached his hand out again. This time Arthur was prepared, but he still winced until the trembling was over. Then Merlin reached into the hole he had created and pulled out a wooden box slightly larger than Arthur's fist.
"Is that it?" Arthur asked, reaching out, and Merlin handed it over to him.
"I think it's in the box."
The box was beautiful, with intricate carvings. Arthur wondered if they were purely decorative, or if the carvings had meaning.
"Well," he said with a rueful smile, "let's see what this thing is." He pulled on the lid, but it didn't move. Frowning, he looked at it more carefully. There was a visible hinge on one side and no sign of a clasp, so the top should swing open easily. But he tried again, and it didn't budge.
"I think it has to be opened with magic," Merlin suggested. Arthur rolled his eyes.
"How is it that in the course of one week, magic seems to have taken over my life?" he muttered resentfully. "Fine. Open it."
Merlin's eyes flashed and the lid sprung open.
"No incantation this time?" Arthur asked in surprise.
Merlin looked away. "Not everything requires an incantation," he said. "Not for me."
Arthur pulled the lid the rest of the way open and peered inside, then laughed. Reaching in, he grasped the chain between two fingers and pulled it out.
"Look at that, Merlin. A new piece of jewelry for you. It will go just lovely with your eyes."
The other knights laughed, but Merlin let out a creative combination of swear words that Arthur might have expected from Gwaine, but never from his servant.
"Merlin?"
His face was pale, his mouth tight with anger and dread. But his eyes were alight with fear.
"What is it?" Arthur asked, looking down at the necklace.
"Nothing," Merlin said with a dark scowl. Then he sighed and ran his hand over his face. "I just…I really hate crystals."
AN: If you're interested in some of the themes in the earlier part of this chapter, where Merlin and Arthur discuss how Merlin feels about his powers, I just started a new story called Creature of Magic., It goes into all of that in more depth (with a little bit of a different take on the characters). If you're enjoying this story, please consider checking that one out as well!