A/N Apologies for the late update. I tried writing the next episode but just couldn't get a feel for it. So i've shelved it for now and am posting this instead. Its an old story story i never actually posted and made adjustments to make it fit into my 'Merlyn' series.
Hope you enjoy it. Feedback is always appreciated.
Huge thank you to everyone who has. Can't believe i hit 200 reviews. Thank you so much.
Mortal Sins
Things were too rosy in Camelot for her liking. Nimueh glared at the images in her stone basin. All those happy people living their happy lives only fueling her bitterness. How dare they be allowed to be safe and content? Her people weren't. They were being hunted down one by one and killed for simply being.
She hated those happy people, almost as much as the Pendragons.
No. That wasn't true.
Her hatred for Uther had no rival. She wished him dead with every breath, every heart-beat. She wanted him to suffer every agony and rot for eternity in a fiery hell.
Instead he lived and ruled over the grand citadel of Camelot, his son at his side. At that moment the King was welcoming his guests to the Harvest feast. She would ensure it would be a memorable one. It was an opportunity to strike at both Uther and Sir Tomas, the nobleman having been one of his most staunch supporters during the Purge.
She racked her brains shifting though her memories for a fitting punishment. How gratifying it would be for the two men to turn on each other. She thought of all the ways she could do that. It would be easy to enrage Uther, next to his greed and pride it was one of his greatest weakness. It would take quite something to induce Sir Tomas's wrath…
It dawned on her. With a dark, mischievous smile, she wandered deeper into her cave to the ancient books and objects she and her sisters had hidden in the early days of the purge. The oldest and most revered relics of the old religion were stored there along with other more powerful talismans. On one of these shelves was an ancient piece of rock.
Legend said it had emerged from the fiery pits of hell, cursed by the Dark Lord himself. A small amount of dust was said to induce the seven mortal sins in whoever drank it. Unwrapping the scroll wrapped around the small rock she smiled at the familiar writing of Angharad, one of the most gifted of the high priestess. With the scroll she could evoke each of the seven sins and 'gift' them on seven individuals.
The sins would fall randomly, there was no telling who would fall victim to what, but it would be amusing and devastating either way.
"Good Morning, Sir Tomas. You are most welcome." Uther greeted his old friend with a genuine smile. Indeed this was an occasion to be celebrated. With all the trials Camelot had withstood this past year, a successful harvest was a most just reward.
"Thank you, Milord. We are honoured by your invitation." Sir Tomas replied.
"How was your journey?"
"Uneventful much to my wife's relief and my disappointment."
With that the two men went off on a tangent remembering the days past full of battle and glory. So it was left to the Prince to welcome Lady Rosetta and Sir Elyan back to Camelot. Lady Morgana and Lady Guinevere had made their way to the yard with their respective maids and joined him in welcoming Guinevere's mother and brother. The small group of nobles greeted each other warmly while the maids helped unload the carriages.
They were unaware of the speculative gaze of the two fathers, watching the interaction between one daughter and one son. One of the reasons Uther had asked for Lady Guinevere to stay on after his anniversary feast was to watch her interaction with his son and the court. To keep Camelot safe and strong, his son would need to marry well.
It was a source of concern for him on many fronts. His son could be charming and was a hit with the ladies of court. But he showed no preference or favour for any suitable or indeed unsuitable woman. None that he could see anyway.
The only woman he seemed to spend any time with was the Lady Morgana. Thankfully for reasons he refused to dwell on, Arthur showed no romantic inclination for his ward. The same could not be said for the Lady Morgana. By introducing Lady Guinevere into the mix he was hoping to inspire his son to think of the future.
But whilst Arthur and Guinevere seemed to get on very well, Uther knew his son was a romantic. Just like his mother. Igraine had been determined to marry for love and although Uther had loved his wife deeply, now that he was King he knew Arthur could not count on that luxury. He had a duty to Camelot and the Kingdom came first.
"How is my daughter getting on in Camelot?" Sir Tomas asked, taking in the sight of his only daughter for the first time in months. Guinevere looked much improved since the winter.
"The Ladies of court have received her well. She is a favourite with my ward also. She and the Lady Morgana seem to be joined at the hip."
"Excellent."
"She seems to get on with Arthur also. We shall have to see." Uther confided, his old friend aware of and supporting his plan. "A match between them does seem possible. Even ideal. But I cannot rush Arthur."
"No." Sir Tomas agreed. "Nor Guinevere. But we have time on our side."
The two men quickly changed topic as they were joined by the subjects of their conversations and moved indoors, allowing the servants to unload the carriages.
Merlyn moved from her place in the shadow of the carriage, a small trunk in her hands as she spared a glance at the small party entering the castle.
The two men were right. Lady Guinevere would be perfect for the Prince. Not just because of her rank and connections, although she was sure those were the attributes Uther was most interested in. Guinevere was a good person, as beautiful inside as she was out. Gentle, understanding and fair, she would be a great Queen, but she was no push over. She would stand up to Arthur and tell him when he was being a prat. She would keep him honest.
Yes. She could see Guinevere alongside Arthur as King and Queen of Camelot.
Knowing this, she tried to ignore the pain that had sliced though her at the thought of Uther's plans coming to fruition. Arthur was a Prince and she a handmaiden. Whatever unexplainable bond there was between them, there were other more decisive matters which kept them apart.
Arthur would be King of Camelot whereas her only ambition in life was to live to see that day whilst avoiding the burning pyre or worst.
She hadn't realised it, but keeping Arthur safe and protecting both him and Camelot had become her purpose, her reason for existing. A way to use the challenging gifts bestowed on her at birth for a worthy purpose.
So she ignored the small voice crying out at the injustice of it all and returned to her chores.
She looked magnificent. Lady Morgana studied her reflection in the looking glass and smiled at the vision reflecting back at her. The gown Merlyn had made fit her perfectly, the shape hugging her figure and the colour, a deep purple, bringing out her eyes. Her handmaiden had just finished arranging her hair in an elaborate twist at the back of her head, and gently coaxed escaping tendrils into tidy curls which caressed her neck.
She looked sensational, thought Morgana, pleased at Merlyn's work. Things had been fractious between them she knew. Merlyn was trying to do too much, working for both Morgana and Gaius as well as training Eira. She had put up with it as gracefully as she could and Merlyn had just reminded her why. She was very good when she was actually present. But her tardiness and sometimes clumsiness was getting difficult to tolerate.
"Very good, Merlyn." She told her handmaiden as the younger woman tidied up the table.
"Thank you, my lady." Merlyn replied dutifully. Before a knock on the door, diverted her attention. It opened to reveal Lady Guinevere and Lady Rosetta also ready for the opening feast.
"We just came to see if you were ready, Morgana." Lady Rosetta greeted her. "You do look wonderful my dear."
The older woman joined the Lady Morgana at the looking glass and straightened her shawl minutely.
She was wearing a tasteful light blue gown which contrasted beautifully with her dark looks. And her daughter was dressed in a deep red gown which flattered her figure.
"Thank you, My Lady." Morgana smiled and returned the compliment as the two started talking about their dresses.
Guinevere smiled warily at Merlyn and Eira whispering. "My mother is despairing of me. She has been dying to speak of gowns and court and I am not a fountain of information."
"She has come to the right place." Merlyn murmured under her breath, only Eira catching the line and smothering a smile under her hand.
"You look wonderful." She complimented the other woman but noticed to her distress that she could not look Lady Guinevere in the eye, the overheard conversation still too fresh in her mind.
"Eira did a great job. You have taught her well Merlyn, I thank you."
"Lets us get down to the feast before the men eat all the food." Morgana broke into the conversation and lead the small party down to the feast.
The feast was soon in full swing, dish after dish brought out from the kitchen, tankard after tankard filled and refilled to the brim as the lords and ladies of court celebrated a successful harvest. Once again Nimueh was able to blend in amongst the stream of servants, her chameleon ability allowing her to move around the castle unchallenged. She bided her time until she saw a young man leave with a jug of wine meant for the top table.
Following him toward the great hall she waited for the perfect opportunity, shoving him into a passage and stunning him. The young boy stood frozen, suspended in time as she retrieved the dust she had ground from the sacred stone. Smiling deviously she stirred the dark, tasteless power into the blood red wine whispering the words Angharad had written all those years ago. The tainted wine began to bubble and smoke began to rise from liquid as the powder disappeared. A few whispered words more and the bubbles settled, the smoke dissipated and the contents of the jug returned to its normal state.
Only she knew the true contents of the jug. With a satisfied smile she moved away and released the unsuspecting boy from her hold. Without even stumbling the boy resumed his course to the great hall and the head table.
Unable to resist she stuck her head out and watched him reach the table and fill up the empty goblets. There was her nemesis, Uther talking with Sir Tomas, Ladies Rosetta, Morgana and Guinevere, Prince Arthur and Sir Elyan. Two royal families that she loathed.
There were no toasts, the speeches having been made at the beginning of the feast but for Nimueh it was not anticlimactic. She watched as Uther and Tomas crashed their tankards together and downed their drinks, next to them, Ladies Morgana and Guinevere sipped and giggled into their goblets as Lady Rosetta watched on, slowly consuming hers. Elyan and Arthur had stood with their refilled goblets and were now standing by a group of fellow knights. Elyan had downed his fairly quickly but Arthur was still nursing his. Minutes ticked by and she got impatient as she watched and waited.
Every time the Prince raised the tankard to his mouth, someone would interrupt him.
Come on, Nimueh inwardly pleaded. Drink.
Finally Arthur managed to take a sip and she grinned delightedly, turning away she had almost made it through the door when there was a crash. Turning she saw the young man she had stunned earlier on the floor…and the Prince wearing the remains of the tankard and the jug the man had been carrying.
"Glyndwr!" He roared.
Nimueh laughed at the amusing sight before worry set it.
Had the Prince consumed enough of the potion?
Uther dreamt of the finest wines and food from across the Kingdom and beyond. Succulent meats, refreshing vegetables and the ripest fruits in the land. It was his divine right as King to have these luxuries. Droll pooled in his mouth as he felt the sweetness of the exotic fruits on his palate. He would never have enough. The King woke up with a ravenous appetite, unaware that he had been chewing his pillow in his sleep and that a damp feather was stuck to his cheek.
Lady Morgana had tossed and turned in a restless sleep. Did Uther really think he was being subtle, promoting Guinevere over his own ward? She had watched, silently fuming, as Arthur and Guinevere had been placed next to each other, chatting away merrily under the pleased scrutiny of their fathers. How could he? Why was she not good enough for his son?
Rosette was clearly aware of the scheme. Dressing her daughter in Camelot's colours and parading her under the Princes nose. Was that the real reason she was there, not to keep her company but to foster a match with Arthur?
She had spent so much time worrying over Arthur's strange attachment with Merlyn that the interloper had slipped in unnoticed. The other woman had even stolen Merlyn away. Merlyn who was hands down the best handmaiden Morgana had, had. Well she would not be sharing her with Guinevere or Rosetta again.
And Arthur was hers. Camelot was hers. She would make sure Guinevere knew that, too.
Sir Tomas's bed was too lumpy. His sheets scratchy and his covers too dated and thin. Did Uther really appreciate him so little that he would put him in the coldest room in the Castle? No doubt Uther's room was warm and toasty. Did he not realise how important he was? How necessary his loyalty was to his reign's security? And now the creep wanted his daughter?
And his blond haired, blued eyed son. What was taking the boy so long? Did he not see the prize in front of him? Guinevere was alright to talk and flirt with at dinner but not to court? How dare he! His daughter was a fine woman. If she put a bit more effort she could secure him easily.
He turned over and punched his pillow. Trying to get comfortable and letting a frustrated sigh as he ground his teeth in his sleep.
Lady Rosetta tiptoed around her chambers, stuffing the silverware she had pinched from dinner into her chest, hidden amongst her unmentionables. All these pretty, shiny things. Uther had so much, he wouldn't miss them. Slipping between the sheets she remembered the intricate jewelled hair comb that the Lady Morgana had worn that evening. It really had been beautiful. Morgana had so many beautiful things, she wouldn't miss one…
Sir Elyan admired himself in the looking glass. Sir Elyan, Knight of Camelot. The best of the elite. Noble men came from far and wide to try out for the famous knights but few made it into the ranks. He had, had no problem earning his knighthood. He was after all an accomplished swordsman, a true strategist and a born leader. Arthur would soon realise his natural affinity and promote him. He would be a fare greater commander than Leon. Sir Leon was a skilled Knight. Elyan was simply better. And once his sister was Queen, he would be even closer to the future King, his highest advisor. He studied his handsome profile in the looking glass, admiring his posture…
Guinevere simply slept. She was safe, warm and oh so tired. Everything was fine, there was no pressure from anyone… No overbearing mother, no well-meaning but pushy father…No guilt or awkwardness around her best friend, Morgana…
The dark haired beauty simply rolled over and settled into a deep sleep.
Arthur was uncomfortable, his room was too hot and stuffy. Kicking of his sheets he lay on his back and let out a heavy sigh. He loved a good feast and it had been a great celebration until he had looked up in mid-conversation and seen Morgana glowering at his father. A quick glance round saw Uther and Sir Tomas quickly avert their gaze. He had shaken the feeling off and resumed his conversation with Guinevere, however she had now looked uncomfortable.
As the night went on he paid more attention to his surroundings. The frequent not-so-covert looks from his father and Guinevere's parents, Morgana's growing irritation and Guinevere's nervousness painted an uncomfortable picture. He hated being manipulated and it was becoming increasingly obvious what was occurring here. The King had been dropping hints about his age and the importance of security for Camelot.
He tried to distance himself from the table, choosing the company of his knights. It had worked to settle him for a while.
It wasn't that he didn't like Guinevere. He did. She was a nice girl, well woman really. She was beautiful, with her exotic skin and dark sable hair, tied up on her head to expose that beautiful long neck…
His thoughts had been interrupted by another crash as another manservant, not Glyndwr this time, dropped a platter of food by the head table, earning a sharp reprove from the normally mild-manner Sir Tomas.
Merlyn seemed to have appeared from nowhere, helping the boy clean up the food as quickly as they could. He should talk to Merlyn, he thought. She seemed to know everything that was going on in the castle. She was an untapped fount of information he was sure. Hearing everything but saying nothing unless it was really relevant. A secret keeper.
His eyes lingered over her crouched figure. She was wearing her red and white ensemble again. Long white sleeves hiding her arms from view and contrasting with the usually pale, porcelain skin that had caught the sun. The red kittle hugged her chest, a small strap of fabric defining her slight waist. Unruly wavy hair was somewhat tamed in long braid, falling down her back.
He hated it when her hair was restrained, which unfortunately was most of the time. He much preferred it when she let the wild, midnight waves cascade down her back. The first time he had seen her hair down he had kissed her, the memory coming to him suddenly, taking him back to the physician's chambers and recalling the young woman sat at the table, her back to him.
She had drank the poison meant for him and he had found the cure. Merlyn had only meant to thank him with a peck on the cheek but their lips had met accidentally. It had been an innocent kiss, he remembered fondly, recalling the weight of her jaw as he had gently cupped it.
Lying in bed, he was suddenly bombarded with another memory. Another kiss.
"And I am warning you." He snapped, reaching her in two long strides. Two large hands grabbing her upper arms and effortlessly pulling her up against him. He shook her as he continued to move until her back hit the wall, pressing her up against the cool stones.
Fingers gripped her soft skin, their bodies pressed together from shoulder down. He could feel every breath she took, feel the heat of her body seep into his own. She met his gaze, eyes slightly wide in shock, her lips parted, breaths coming in small pants but her surprise was not enough to snap him out of the haze surrounding him.
Them.
He didn't think, just ducked his head down and pressed his lips hard against hers in a punishing kiss. It was miles away from the tender kiss they had shared not so long ago. She gasped and his tongue pushed through her soft lips and into the warmth of her mouth, demanding her to respond.
And she did.
She started to move her mouth against his, the sensation almost too much for him, pleasure rushing though his body as he tasted her over and over.
Arthur remembered letting go of one of her arms and letting it trail up her back to somehow press her further into him.
He imagined pulling the rag she had used to fix the braid off and burying his fingers in the escaping locks, Imagined combing his fingers though the roots of her hair and holding her mouth to his. What would have happened if his other hand had slid down to her hip, to her thigh?
Would she have allowed him to hoist her up onto his hips? Would she have wrapped those long legs around his waist? And he knew she had long legs, he had seen her running around the forest in those worn breeches. What would have happened if he'd run his hand under her skirts and touched the bare skin of her calf, her thigh…
Arthur bolted up in bed breathing heavily, shocked. Gulping down a few mouthfuls of air he then coughed and looked around. Dawn had barely broken.
What the hell was that..?
Glyndwr watched concerned as Arthur soundly thrashed another Knight during training. Sir Kay surrendered quickly and swiftly moved out of danger. The Prince was on fire this morning. Glyndwr had got a shock when he went to wake his master, only to find him up and dressed.
Arthur had been jittery all morning. He had only managed a few bites of his breakfast before looking disturbed and leaving for the practice fields, where he proceeded to get rid of all that pent up energy. He was about to call out when Sir Elyan took his place and started to duel the Prince.
After a few moments it became clear that there was something different to this duel.
Sir Elyan was going all out. It wasn't anything Arthur could not deal with but the ferocity of their battle started to attract attention. The blows became harder and faster, the men whipping themselves into a frenzy. This was no friendly match.
Some of the more senior and experience knights stepped forward, concerned and when the pair pushed away from each other they sprang, dragging the Knight away from the Prince.
"That's enough, Sir Elyan!" Sir Leon barked as helped Sir Andrew separate the two. "Sire, please,"
Arthur calmed down first. The red mist in front of his eyes fading.
"I apologise, Sir Elyan. I seem to be out of sorts this morning."
Elyan shook off the restraining hold of Sir Brutus and Sir Kay, nodding regally. Pleased at his opponent standing down. He considered that a victory. The other knights starred in disgust as the other man showed no signs of apologising for his part in the scuffle. Sir Leon and Sir Brutus shared a quick glance and made a silent pact to watch the younger recruit.
But Arthur, completely unaware of Elyan's odd behaviour, left the field muttering under his breath.
Merlyn stared at the sight in front of her. The Lady Morgana had demanded that Merlyn attend her all day and not move from her side, an unusual request as Morgana was known to prefer her independence.
First thing she had marched into Guinevere's chambers and demanded she hand over the red dress that she had been wearing during the feast.
Guinevere looked…tired. Although up and dressed it was clear that she was not completely awake, having draped herself over the chaise in her room and resting her eyes. She put up no fight to Morgana's demands.
Merlyn cringed in embarrassment.
"I know you are my friend but I will not tolerate this trickery. You will stop this foolish behaviour and stop throwing yourself at Arthur. He is not meant for you. Your behaviour at the feast last night was abominable…"
Guinevere barely battered an eyelid at Morgana's tongue lashing. An equally uncomfortable Eira moved over to her mentor.
"I am concerned about Lady Guinevere. She has not been herself this morning."
"Did she have a lot of the drink last night?" Merlyn whispered, although something was definitely off about the two ladies.
"No more than usual." Eira whispered. "I doubt it's the drink."
"Aye. Lady Morgana is off this morning as well." She confided. "Perhaps we should…"
"Merlyn, Come." Morgana barked as she strode purposely out of the room. "We have things to do…" She stopped abruptly as Lady Rosette entered the room, her face serene until she caught the fabric in Morgana's hand.
"What are you doing with that dress?!" She demanded, irate. "That is mine."
"It was Guinevere's and she's given it to me."
"I brought it." Rosette snapped fiercely, un-intimidated by the thunder on Morgana's face. She reached out and snatched at the clothing, grabbing a sleeve as Morgana tried to evade her grasp. Eira and Merlyn watched in disbelief as the two, normally elegant, regal ladies played tug of war with the crimson gown.
Guinevere merely looked over the back of the chaise, vaguely interested before stretching and laying down to rest her eyes.
"My lady…" She attempted to interrupt as the two ladies squealed and bickered, calling each other names as they fought over their prize. The noise attracted the attention of the guards in the corridor who charged in before also stepping in and staring at the scene.
Everyone looked at everyone else unsure of what to do, before a loud ripping sound tore through the air along with angry shrieks as the two women went flying in opposite directions, Lady Rosette being lucky enough to fall into a guard. The guard winded by the hard blow to the middle managed to prevent her falling to the floor.
Morgana unfortunately was not so lucky and fell backwards, landing on her back, skirts flying.
There was a stunned beat of silence before Merlyn quickly snapped into action, helping her mistress off the floor. Embarrassed Morgana tore her arm out of her helpful grasp, her face flushed with humiliation.
"Now look at what you have done!" She roared at Lady Rosette, throwing the piece of fabric at the older woman. "You owe me a dress." Without another word, the ill-tempered woman stormed from the room.
"Merlyn!"
"Oh boy." Merlyn muttered dashing after her. "Eira, ask Gaius to have a look at Lady Guinevere. There is something strange going on here…"
Later, Gaius was living his own surreal moment in the great hall. Sir Tomas had impressively stormed out of the Great Hall when a stubborn Morgana refused to relinquish the seat to Uther's left. The King had barely reacted to Sir Tomas's indignant complaints, barely pausing between mouthfuls of his dinner. Arthur's attention was also fixed firmly on his plate as if the meat cutlets were the most fascinating thing he had ever seen.
He was oblivious to the rather blatant flirting his father's ward was sending in his direction. With Lady Guinevere abed, Morgana was taking advantage of her absent but alas, the young man showed no reaction to the poorly concealed attempts of seduction.
A flash of silver on the periphery of his vision swung his attention to the other Lady at the table and his mouth dropped in disbelief as he saw the silver fork disappear up Lady Rosette's sleeve.
"Did she just…" He asked his niece who had silently joined him, on her mistresses' arrival.
"Yes." She replied in a tired voice. "Just one of the many strange goings on today."
He bowed his head down to Merlyn and confided in a barely audible voice. "I can't find anything physically wrong with Lady Guinevere but I have never seen her so listless. And whatever is happening is not confined to her. Sir Elyan is unconscious in my chambers for picking a fight the Kingsmead brothers. And the King…"
No words were needed as the King practically inhaled another course. Still managing to talk to his ward despite the food rolling around his mouth. Seemly oblivious to the disgust on Morgana's face as she got a front seat to his digestion.
"Sir Tomas just left in a temper." He confided. "And I think Lady Rosette is hiding the silverware in her sleeves."
"She and Morgana just had a fight over a dress. Tore it apart completely and darned if I'm mending it." Merlyn huffed under her breath. "Have you seen Arthur acting… strange."
"He's been quiet. He either hasn't noticed the odd behaviour or… I don't know. He seems oblivious to it."
"So we go to Arthur. No one else is acting like this. Have you ever seen anything like this?"
"No. Never." Gaius shook his heads to empathise his statement. "Only the six of them have been affected and I believe they must have been specifically targeted."
"It would be too much of a co-incidence if they hadn't" Merlyn agreed. "It's like they all woke up with new personalities."
"Not completely new." Gaius muttered, looking at Morgana who had walk around the table and her wrapped her arms around Arthurs shoulders from behind as he sat.
Except the moment she did, the Crowned Prince jumped up, darting away from her, shying away from her touch and looking everywhere but her before fleeing the room. Morgana looked worried and went to follow him but a summons from the King stopped her.
"Now what was that about?" Gaius wondered, staring out at the open door though which the young man had fled.
"I'll let you know." Merlyn muttered as she followed the errant Prince.
Arthur's skin was crawling. It felt too tight, too hot and out of control. His senses had come to life painfully at Morgana's touch. He had been doing so well, keeping his gaze fixed on the table as he'd eaten, managing to ignore the provocative Morgana and the silent temptation that was Merlyn in the background. He had fought not to let his eyes drift in her direction, all his attention on acting normally. Morgana's sudden show of affection had kicked his body into overdrive.
He stormed to the safety of his chambers where he now paced agitatedly, furiously tearing his hands though his hair. He would conquer this. It would pass. He would just stay in his room until it did. Yes. That is what he'd do. He'd be safe in here.
There was a quick knock on the door before it swung open and close quickly admitting Merlyn.
No.
Anyone but Merlyn.
"Sire…"
"Out!" He barked with desperate fury. But Merlyn, on a mission, missed the signs.
"I'll knock next ti…"
"OUT!"
"Sire, I need to talk to you its import…"
Arthur snapped. Reaching out he locked a hand around one of her wrists and yanked her into his arms, against his chest. She immediately tried to push back but was quickly restrained against his hard body.
She opened her mouth to shout at him but his lips covered hers quickly, his firm mouth taking absolute control over hers. Her mind blanked as his tongue invaded her mouth, the familiar yet forbidden taste shorting her senses as for a brief moment she forgot herself, pressing her body up against his.
The push against the door stunned her for a brief moment, but it was the hand, dragging itself up her thigh that broke though the haze. She pushed him away with all her strength, panting.
"Arthur, No!" The Prince struggled for a moment before throwing himself violently away from her and quickly crossing the room, putting as much distance between them as he could.
"Go." He said hoarsely. "And lock the door. Stay away from me, Merlyn. Please. I can't stop." He looked at her desperately.
"Please, I don't know if I can stop myself next time." He told her, honestly and desperation in his clear blue eyes. He scrubbed his hands though his hair and started pacing.
Merlyn just stood there in astonishment. Realising she was not moving, his eyes locked on hers, flashing. He started back toward her and she fled, managing to close the door and locking it before he reached her. She heard him hit the door, his fist making an impressive thud on the old oak.
"Merlyn!" He bellowed
"I'm sorry." She told him, hands trembling as she removed the key. "I will fix this I promise."
"So you have no idea what's affecting them?" She heard Glens voice from her Uncles chambers.
"No. I'm hoping Arthur will have some idea. He seems to be unaffected…"
"Ah, we were wrong about that." Merlyn announced her presence with that sobering statement.
"What?" He uncle frowned.
"He's afflicted too." She confirmed. "Difference is that he seems aware of it and is actively fighting it. He asked me to lock him in his room." She held up the room key and tossed it to Glen who fumbled but caught the long iron object, inches from the floor.
Gaius was already at one of his many books. His brow creased in thought. "What are his symptoms?" He demanded. "Are they the same as the others?"
"Err…No." Merlyn confused uneasily. Finding herself embarrassed as the memory of Arthurs symptoms came back to her. "Not like the others."
"Well then how is he infected, Merlyn. You know I need as much information as possible to find out what has caused this and find a cure."
"I know." She muttered uncomfortably. "He is different in that he is aware he is compromised and is fighting it?"
He was getting frustrated now. Merlyn wasn't dense. He turned and glared at her, teeth gritted.
"Fighting what?"
"He's rather…libidinous." Gaius's mouth dropped, his glare turning into surprise then concern.
Glen looked between them blankly.
"Are you ok?" Gaius asked.
"He's fighting it." Merlyn reminded him. "Whatever is affecting him he either got a smaller dose of it or he is less susceptible.
"What's libido… what she said?" Asked Glen, trying to keep up with the conversation.
"We have to find out when this started."
"It would have to have been last night. They were fine at the feast."
"Hey!" Glen looked sheepish as both Merlyn and Gaius broke off their brainstorming, turning to look at him. "What is wrong with Arthur?"
"It looks like he is…" Gaius searched for a word. "Amorous."
Glen continued to look blankly at him.
"Lustful." Merlyn blurted out, careful not to make eye-contact as her cheeks burned.
Glen blinked in surprise before opening his mouth in a silent oh of dawning understanding. However Merlyn's outburst had a different effect on her Uncle.
"Lust, Greed, Wrath…" he muttered under his breath.
"The mortal sins." Glen asked, his memories sparked. "My crazy grandmother used to talk about those. There was, what, seven of those…"
"Yes." Gaius agreed. "Gluttony…"
"Uther." Merlyn counted, stomach turning at the memory of the supper just gone.
"Wrath, Sir Elyan." Glen continued as he warmed to the subject.
"Pride, Sir Tomas."
"Envy, Lady Morgana."
"Sloth, Lady Guinevere"
"Greed, Lady Rosette. Leaving Arthur with Lust." Glen finished.
"I have no idea what you are talking about." Admitted Merlyn. "Seven mortal sins?"
"Yes. They have many different origin stories but the sins themselves remain the same." Gaius told her. "The mystery here is how they were bestowed on their victims."
"And what the consequences are." Glen told her. "In my grandmother's stories, those who were cursed with any other of the sins would come to a sticky end."
"The afflicted were never satisfied and death would soon follow." Her uncle elaborated. "The key is to find how they were afflicted."
"Well we know it must have happened sometime last night. Lady Rosette and Sir Tomas did not arrive until midmorning and they appeared normal until this morning." Glen rationalised. "All seven ate together at the top table and separated for the night."
"But Arthur is not as affected as the others. Why? Did he eat and drink the same as the others last night?" Merlyn asked
"Yes and he probably ate more of the food than the Ladies combined." Glen admitted. "It's unlikely to be the food."
"The drink. He ended up wearing most of one if I remember." Gaius perked up. "If I could get a sample…"
"I dropped the jug on the floor." Glen reminded him, embarrassed.
"Have you washed his clothes yet?" Merlyn wondered, knowing that laundry was one task Glen avoided.
"I really don't think Arthur cares about a clean shirt at a moment like this. " He told her indignantly.
"For a sample!" Merlyn stressed patiently.
"Oh."
"That might do it. Merlyn could you…actually maybe I should go with Glyndwr."
"That would be a good idea." Merlyn agreed, her cheeks blushing impossibly red. "I'll go check on the others." She quickly left the room, leaving the two men looking slightly uneasily at each other.
"Is she alright?" The young man servant asked. Gaius just shrugged wordlessly.
The two men cautiously approached the Princes chambers. It was quiet. The two men looked at each other before Glen unlocked and opened the door cautiously.
"Arthur?" He called quietly into the darkened room. He used his torch to light one of the wall-mounted and starred at the room around him. The table had been over-turned, the chairs thrown across the room. One lay in pieces against the wall. He shared an astonished look with the older man before gazing around the room.
"Sire?"
In the dim light he could see the back of the Princes head as he sat on the floor, against the far side of the bed. As they moved around the bed, they could see that he was slightly rocking.
"Arthur? Are you ok?" Gaius asked, crouching down beside the young man, looking in concern at the sheen of sweat on his forehead.
"Not really." He answered. "Please tell me you can fix this."
"We are working on it, Sire."
"What's happening to me?" Arthur's breath was hard, his body shaking. "I feel like I'm bursting out of my skin…and the thoughts going through my head…"
Merlyn's mouth opening under the onslaught of his kiss, her taste so sweet, no-one else could possibly match her. Her skin soft and heated under his hands, strong fingers digging into his arms…
He snapped back to reality, his cheeks burning at the lustful, forbidden thoughts playing over in his head under the watchful eye of her Uncle. God, Gaius would kill him if he knew.
"It looks like you and those who dined at the top table during the feast have been afflicted with the seven mortal sins. You have the curse of lust."
"And the others…my father?"
"The King is suffering the sin of gluttony. He is trying to eat though the castles stores. We are looking after everyone and we will fix you. You seem to be the least affected…"
"What?" Arthur choked out, hugging himself with trembling limbs.
"You know you are afflicted and am trying to fight it. The others seem unaware of their predicament."
"I've got the clothes." Glen whispered, handing the tunic over to the physician. Gaius's old bones creaked as he stood.
"Gaius?"
"I hope to find a way to counteract whatever is happening to you. We think it maybe the wine or the food from the feast. I am going to test the wine Glyndwr threw on you last night. It might explain why you are less affected than the others."
"Alright." Arthur nodded. "Do what you have to do. But keep me locked in here, Gaius. Keep Merlyn…hell keep everyone away from me."
"I will." Gaius agreed, backing away. "Come, boy." He pulled Glen with him, out of the room, leaving the Prince to his solitude.
Glyndwr cut small sections of the cloth into squares under the watchful eye of Gaius, who prepared several mixtures in two bowls. As he heated the concoction over a candle, he lowered the first square in. There was no reaction. He set the bowl down, away from the flame, still cautious and repeated with the second and then a third.
Disappointed with the results, Gaius let out a long sign.
"It is not goblin magic." He told Glen. "And it is not any known poisons which I know could cause some of the effects, excess eating, and illusions of grandeur."
"So you're thinking curse."
"Indeed." Gaius began to dispose of his tests when he looked down into the first bowl and stopped. He stuck a finger into it and examined the digit under the light of a candle.
"What do we have here?" He mumbled under his breath as he rubbed the dark dust between his fingers.
"Looks like coal dust." Glen remarked, staring down at the fine film floating on the surface of the water.
"Or something very much like it." Agreed Gaius.
The pair were interrupted by the door opening, emitting an exhausted Merlyn. The pair started at the ripped seams on her sleeves and the half loose hair which she freed as soon as the door closed, a dusty purple on her cheek showed a developing bruise was taking residence on her face.
"What on earth…Merlyn, you didn't go and see Arthur did you."
"No!" She said empathically. "This was Lady Morgana and Rosette."
The two men started at her.
"Really. Things are getting out of hand, Gaius. Morgana accused Rosette of stealing, which she probably was and went at her with her dagger. I managed to stop her and talk her down, giving Rosette time to flee, when Morgana decides it's time to rid herself of the competition and kill Guinevere. I managed to stop her. She is now bound, gagged and locked in her room under-guard."
"Oh my." Remarked Gaius. "I imagine that is where some of my sedative potions have got to."
"I confess, Gaius. I've drugged them all. Well Guinevere is too tired to do anything, Eira is keeping an eye on her and I dosed Lady Rosette. I also managed to drug Sir Tomas with his evening wine and Sir Elyan is still unconscious and I advised his manservant to keep him that way."
"What about the King."
"He's in a food coma. Asleep on the remains of his meal. Arthur? "
"Locked in his room but he appears under control." Glen told her. "I checked on him a little while ago."
"Any luck?" She asked gesturing at the experiments.
"Unfortunately." Gaius remarked. "This is worse than I feared."
"Really?" Said Glen. "You know what this dust is?"
"I have a likely idea. The only one that fits. Angharads Curse. She was a high priestess of the old religion. She was one of the most brilliant. She was also one of the most mercurial. She enjoyed punishment as much as helping others. This curse is a prime example. It is said that on a pilgrimage over the sea, she came across a rock which had been thrown up from the depths of the earth.
The rock was said to whisper to the darkest places deep within the soul, to nurture the darkness that lives within as all. She experimented and found a way to evoke the seven mortal sins in whoever came into contact with the rock."
"And you think this is the dust here? Said Glen dropping the bowl back on the table and rubbing his hands on his tunic.
"It is my best guess."
"Well how do we fix this?" Merlyn asked "Any ideas. We can't drug everyone for much longer."
Gaius remained silent, sitting down on the stool watching his niece with grim eyes.
"Uncle? Is there not a book or scroll or something with more information…?"
"What I've just told you comes from memory, Merlyn. The king ordered all writings related to the old religion and magic destroyed with the purge. If there is anything left it will be in the library."
"Well I'll go and find any reference to Angharad…"
"No I will. Geoffrey might let me look at the restricted volumes, but he will not let you near them. You tidy up here and get some rest, child." With that the old man left his assistants alone in his chambers.
Merlyn signed and began to clear the bowls, he mind whirling. Gaius was truly stumped. If it wasn't in his books or her magic book, she had looked, then she could only think of one potential source of information.
"Do you have any more of that sleeping potion?"
She had forgotten Glen was in the room. Jumping she turned back to him, sheepishly.
"Sorry, Glen, I'm half asleep."
"It's been quite a day." The young man agreed, moving to help. "I was going to take one up to Arthur. He was quite literally tearing at the walls when I last saw him. All the wall hangings on the floor."
He was watching her intently, Merlyn thought curiously.
"Not the charcoal drawing tho. He's left that well alone."
"What drawing?"
"The sketch of Camelot you drew." That was said meaningfully and Merlyn looked at him, puzzled. "You did give it to him, didn't you?"
"He found it during the room search when Mordred was in the palace." She told him. "He asked if he could keep it. It was just a drawing."
"One he has up in his private quarters."
"Glyndwr." Merlyn's voice hardened. "What are you implying?"
"It's strange how Arthur seems fixated on you. Every-time I go to check on him he begs me to keep you away. Not Lady Morgana, or Lady Guinevere. You. He's fond of you."
"Glen."
"And I saw you, both of you. In Ealdor, outside your mother's house the night after the battle."
She buried her face in his chest again, closing her eyes and savouring his embrace, unaware he was doing the same.
"Glen, nothing is going on between us. I promise you. He's the Crown Prince of Camelot and I'm a maidservant. Nothing can happen."
"But you have feelings for each other."
"It wouldn't matter if we did, Glen." Merlyn told him, honestly. "You know he's meant for Lady Morgana or Lady Guinevere or a princess from a distant land. And if Uther suspected that Arthur felt anything for me…"
"I know, Merlyn. It's ok. I won't say a word."
"There is nothing to say." She told him and he heard the sadness in her voice as she turned to take a vial out of Gaius's store.
He had been upset upon witnessing that moment outside her mothers house. Seeing how comfortable she had been in the Princes arms and how tenderly Arthur had held her. Jealousy had burned within him, but as the days went on he saw the situation for what it was. Hopeless. The Prince and the maidservant. He watched Merlyn avoid and ignore the noble. He watched Arthur pretend not to notice when the maidservant was in the room, but whose eyes would unerringly find hers at a difficult moment.
There was no relationship, no chance, but there was something between them. And it was all terribly sad.
"I'm sorry." He told her, sincerely. He may have had feelings for Merlyn at one time, but he had long since accepted his place as friend in her life and it made him ache for her in her impossible position.
She smiled at him nervously. She wasn't ready to talk to anyone, to admit how upsetting the situation was becoming. Glen's discovery had only made things worse. They should have been more careful. She needed to keep her distance. Maybe she should consider leaving Camelot.
Even the thought of leaving made her sick. She pushed the idea away. First break the curse then panic about the future.
"Here's a powerful sleeping draught. It should knock him out for good."
"I didn't mean to embarrass you." Glen told her. "I just wanted to let you know…you can talk to me Merlyn, I promise. Your secret is safe with me."
"I know." She whispered, managing a small smile. "I just…I can't."
"It's ok." Glen took the vial, wrapping his hand briefly around hers and squeezing. "Just…I'm here."
Merlyn really hated the underground tunnels, especially at night. Not that you could tell this far down. It was cold, damp and dark and smelt terrible. The atmosphere matched her mood.
Glyndwr knew. Not that there was anything to know but he had seen something between the two forbidden…What…lovers? She and Arthur weren't lovers. They were barely even friends. They would have to talk. She and Arthur. When the curse was broken.
She could hear the sounds of the Great Dragons mighty wings flapping and displacing the air as she got closer to the cavern entrance.
For the first time, the great dragon was sat opposite the entrance, his eyes fixed on the opening as Merlyn wondered though.
"Hello, little one. I have not seen you for a while."
"I'm sorry, things have been busy of late." She told him, sitting on the edge of the outcropping, legs dangling in the space.
"What do you know about Angharad and her curse?"
"Angharad was a high-priestess with a distrust of everyone and everything outside the old Religion. And you're going to have to be more specific. She had a lot of curses and was rather gifted at creating them."
"This one involves the seven mortal sins and a dark rock."
"Ahh!" The dragon eyes lit up in a light bulb moment. "One of her most ingenious. Tell me. Who has she bestowed her gifts on?"
"She bestowed it on a number of nobles. Including Arthur."
"And Uther?"
The Great Dragon could be quite vindictive, Merlyn had learned. The depth of his hatred for the elder Pendragon, no matter how justified, scared her. That kind of hatred was blind to the suffering others.
"He is afflicted with gluttony." The Great Dragon huffed in response.
"I suppose it's too much to hope he's eaten himself to death."
"Not yet. He is going to be as sick as a pig thou if that's any consolation." The Dragon appeared to think about that before settling back down, resting his heavy head and resting it on its folded arms. A very human action that seemed out of place on the magical creature.
"The mortal sins come from the darkest reaches of the earth. Only the darkness magic can be used to channel it into a curse. And only the lightest, purest magic can triumph over it."
"That makes sense. But how? Where can I find the purest of magic?"
"Avalon's waters are amongst the purest. The water comes from deep within the earth. In the morning hours when the Gates of Avalon open, you must gather the water bathed in sunlight. You must bless it yourself."
"Me?"
"Yes. You must will it to break the curse. You are a creature of the old religion, Merlyn and you are the light in the darkness. If you want the curse broken…so it shall be."
Arthur was a man possessed. A stranger in his own skin, he could not breathe, he could not rest. He was going mad. He could no longer remember why he had ordered his room locked. Why he had shut himself off from her. His blood was on fire, every fibre of his body calling out for release.
He had stood at his window overlooking the courtyard all evening, his eyes searching for a glimpse of Merlyn without success. He hadn't understood the rush of desire that had coursed through his veins all day, the constant awareness of the servant girl which had led to this strong, insistent urge to find her. He wanted to hold her lithe body close, against his, feel the softness of her hair as he ran his fingers though the long, luscious tresses…
He crouched by the door waiting. Glyndwr was going to check on him soon, but his manservant would not realise that he had lost his master to the beast inside. Not until he woke up a few hours later, the remains of the chair the Prince used to knock him out around his head. The boy could not keep them apart any longer. He knew now.
Merlyn belonged to him.
The prince stalked down the corridors, quiet in the depths of night. He passed Lady Morgana's chambers and paused, the thought of entering and satisfying himself crossing his mind briefly, she would be willing. But she would not be enough. His hand on the doorknob for a moment before he decided against it.
It wasn't her he wanted.
Heading down the corridor outside the Lady Guinevere's quarters he stopped again. She wasn't who he really wanted either, but maybe she would take the edge of the burning need for 'her'. This time he got as far as opening the door before the man stopped him. Or was it the beast? The beast wanted 'her' as much as the man did. No one would taste as good as her, it was sure.
Arthur started toward the physicians chambers when the sound of horse hooves clattered on the cobbles. He moved to the window to catch a glimpse of the rider, his stomach clenching as a wall-mounted torch illuminated her face as she rode out the Castle.
She was getting away. This would never do. The chase was on.
Merlyn rode her horse as hard as she could along the forest road. Dawn was not far away and she could not afford any delays. Luckily it was a full moon, the moonlight making it easy for her to see in the darkness. The creature beneath her followed her every command, her connection with nature so strong any hesitance about galloping though the forest was assured by her.
Her fatigue had left her in the rush of adrenaline that had seen her flee the castle. She doubted those afflicted would last another day. They would kill themselves or each other, she was sure. Leaving the main path, she headed deeper into the forest, away from the frequently traveled paths. Lighting her torch when the forest grew too dense, she crept closer to the lake, guided by the gentle pull of her magic that guided her.
The forest faded away gradually as the sky began to show the first signs of lightening. The stars slowly slipping from view.
She'd made it. Slipping off her horse she led it to the water, allowing the faithful animal to relax after his journey. She sipped at her own flask before sitting down on a rock staring out over the picturesque scene. Time seemed to pass slowly as the half-moon began its descent.
A twig snapping loudly behind her caused her to start, up on to her feet, whirling around to stare at the woods behind her. But there was no intruder insight. Deciding it had merely been the waking forest she returned to her perch on the log, her attention back to the waters.
Shivering she wrapped her arms around herself, debating whether to light a fire and cursing herself for not changing before leaving the castle. She hoped that the sun would rise soon, it could not be far now…
Two strong arms clamped around her, one solid hand clamping over her mouth, preventing her from screaming. She was dragged back against a hard, warm body. Her seat slipping off the log, so she was sat on a man's lap. Somewhat luckily for her, it was a familiar man.
"You little fool!" He hissed into her ear, though heavy pants, his firm grip preventing any struggle. Some part of him registered the involuntary shiver as his breath caressed the shell of her ear. "What are you doing, wandering around the forest at this time of night?" He freed his grip on her mouth, securing her firmly against him.
"Arthur." Merlyn said calmly, stopping her useless struggle. "You need to let go of me."
His hands flexed on her arms, his grip firm, not enough to hurt, but enough so she knew she wasn't going anywhere without his say so. She could feel his breath on the side of her face, knew he was staring at the fast beating pulse in her neck.
"What your feeling…isn't you." She told him.
"What am I feeling? Merlyn?" He asked her. Her eyes almost rolled backwards as she felt his lips touch the skin behind her ear. She pursed her own together firmly. He could blame this on the enchantment. What was her excuse?
Everything she felt was real.
"You, your father and everyone else who ate and the top table, during the feast was cursed…the wine was tampered…Did you notice that your father is eating everything he can get his hands on? Morgana has envy, Guinevere has sin of slough…"
Arthur huffed against her neck
"Knew you were jealous," he whispered against her skin, dragging his lips down her neck. The unexpected sensation caused her to arch back into him. She felt him chuckle at her reaction.
"I'm right. Sir Tomas and Sir Elyan were affected too. That's why you're doing this…it's not real."
Oddly enough, he knew she was right. Since he had caught up with her, he had felt calmer, his head ever so slightly clearer. He knew the strength of what he was feeling was not normal. Yes he was attracted to Merlyn. More attracted to her than anyone before, but his was unlike anything he could ever have imagined. The urge to lower her to the forest floor was so strong, he could almost see her lying under him, her hair fanned out around her face as she looked up at him.
Only the knowledge that something was wrong held him back.
"I think your right." He said. "I haven't been able to focus on anything else today and don't get me wrong, Merle…" He whispered in his ear, aware of the effect he was having on her. "I spend more time thinking about you than I should. But I could still function before."
Merlyn wouldn't let herself believe what he was saying. She wanted to, but she knew the spell was affecting him more than he knew.
"So? What are we doing here?" He asked her, resting his chin on her shoulder.
"The water from the lake at sunrise. It should break the curse…" Her breath hitched as she felt Arthur trail kisses back up her neck. She'd had no idea she was so sensitive there.
"Arthur let me go." She whispered, not entirely sure what she would do when he did.
"I'm not sure that would be a good idea," he confessed, tightening his grip on her.
His lips found a particular spot on Merlyn's neck which caused her breath to catch and her head to drop back, exposing the front of her neck. Arthur took advantage of the new skin, moving his lips further around her throat. It was then that she noticed that one of the arms holding hers was loose. But instead of pushing him away, her treacherous fingers threaded themselves in his hair, stroking his head. She sighed in contentment, her head turning to meet his seeking lips, when her eyes were distracted by the sight in front of her.
The gates were opening.
She shoved Arthur back, throwing him off-balance and knocking him to the forest floor. Jumping up, she gathered her skirts as she ran into the lake, wading in toward the gathering light, the open flask out and ready to dip into the water. The world slowed, and she glimpsed the beautiful lands beyond the gates, its light bathing the water…She hurriedly dunked her flash in, watched it fill, all the while willing it to work.
She had just sealed the lid when he caught her, picking her up and turning her into him, his hungry mouth devouring hers. She left herself drop in his arms, unbalancing both of them and they slipped, under the surface of the water.
He found his feet first, coughing as he hauled her out of the water, before finding her mouth again. The kiss was different, still passionate and all consuming, but as it went on, she could feel the urgency fade. Arthur let her break the kiss with some reluctance.
She saw the water, running rivers from his soaked blond hair down his cheeks, shimmer with gold before fading. His eyes opened and he smiled sleepily before slumping forward.
She caught him, dragging him back to the shore and helping him away from the water.
"It worked." She murmured with relief as she helped him sit up against the rock. Arthur watched her with tired eyes. He smiled and reached out with his hands, cupping her beautiful face. He pulled her face toward him for a brief, tender kiss before resting his forehead on hers.
"Thank you." He whispered battling against exhaustion. "You need to go…Camelot…The others…I'm right behind you…"
Merlyn entered the Castle to find a worried Gaius in deep conversation with Sir Leon, Glyndwr sitting at the table, holding a bundle of what looked like cloth over his head. Relief rushed over their faces as she barged into her uncles' chambers, stumbling over the uneven threshold.
They all spoke over each other.
"Merlyn! Where have you been?"
"Uncle, I have it. The cure."
"Where's the Prince?"
"Are you hurt?"
They all looked at each other in consternation for a moment before Gaius took point.
"Child. Where have you been? The prince escaped his room, knocked out Glyndwr and the pair off you have been missing all night. We were afraid…"
Merlyn looked sheepish, remembering her hasty departure from the Castle.
"I found it in one of your books, Uncle. It said the waters of the Lake in the Hills would restore those affected by the mortal sins. I left at once. Prince Arthur must have followed me but I was able to persuade him to drink some of the water."
"And…"
"It worked. He's himself again. But he collapsed after. Exhaustion. He ordered me back to cure the rest, here." She pushed the flask at her uncle.
Sir Leon took charge of the situation, "Gaius, you and Merlyn tend to the King and the nobles, I will send some men to escort the Prince back to Camelot."
"Yes, Sir Leon." The older man agreed examining the flask, a thoughtful frown on his face.
The young knight left, quickly, eager to restore order while Merlyn ran into her chambers to quickly change her damp clothes, her bones aching with the chill permeating her body.
Uther was furious, a red haze descending over him as the reality of the past day hit him. He felt ill, humiliated, scared and incredibly angry. Feelings that were shared by the other nobles once the afflictions had lifted.
An embarrassed Rosette had returned the many items that she had found in her quarters. Servants were quietly amazed at the amassed fortunes the magpie Lady had secreted away. Silverware, candlesticks, clothes, mirrors, hairbrushes, a chamber pot, even one of Merlyn's hair cloths had ended up in the Lady's chambers.
And it was some mortification that Lady Morgana and Lady Rosette addressed their behaviour over the past days. Neither could look at the bruise on Merlyn's face, but the young maidservant was touched by the old dress, Morgana insisted she take to mend or replace her ruined clothes.
Sir Elyan and Sir Tomas had quickly and humbly apologised for their individual behaviour but it was excused immediately. The cause of the behaviour was obvious. Neither man was known for their pride or quick temper.
The Kings wrath was worse for his lack of target. He knew who had to be behind it. A high priestess curse. It had to be the work of Nimueh. He would had raged for days if he had not felt so ill. Indeed he spend the next three days abed with the most terrible stomach pains, even the thought of food bringing about the worse sensation of nausea he had ever felt in his life.
Arthur took over for his father, smoothing over the strained relationships and the restoring the castle to order.
It wasn't til the next day that Gaius got the chance to confront his niece Two days without sleep had taxed his niece to almost breaking point. The next evening after a long day repairing the damage Lady Morgana had inflicted on her chambers during one of her many tirades, Uncle and niece finally had a chance to sit down and eat together.
He waited until she had eaten, his own food pushed around his plate until he brought up what had been troubling him.
"Merlyn. Where did you find out about the cure? I found nothing in the library and my own books barely reference it. There was no glimmer of a remedy. No mention of the Lakes water."
Merlyn knew the look in her Uncles eye. There was no escaping, no misleading. He would not allow her to evade the question. She was not entirely sure why she had kept the dragons existence from him. The dragon had asked her not to mention her visits but in truth it was the fear of his riddles that kept her silence.
"How small you are for such a great destiny."
"There is much written about you, that you have yet to read"
"You are a creature of the old religion… the light in the darkness."
"If you want the curse broken…so it shall be."
The dragon's words were heavy, ominous. And a small part of her wondered how much her Uncle knew. And she did not want to know what this great destiny was. Who Emrys was and why so much had been written about her, about a sixteen year-old peasant girl from a small dilapidated village.
She had enough problems just getting though the day.
But it seemed the time had come for some answers.
"There is a dragon chained up beneath the Castle."
Her Uncle flinched at her words.
"You know of whom I speak." It was a statement rather than a question.
"Yes." He stated soberly. "How long have you known."
"He called to me the first night I was in Camelot." She told him.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"You knew he was down there!"
"Yes." Gaius let out a long sigh. "Uther trapped him, almost eighteen years ago. He hunted down and killed others."
"He knows things." Merlyn said quietly, her voice smaller than he had ever heard it. "About me."
"Tell me." Gaius asked, his own voice low and reverent.
She started speaking, slowly at first but then as the relief of unburdening herself grew, she found herself sharing everything about her dealings with the magical creature. From the revelations of their first meeting to the advice and assistance with the plague, the wraith and the curse.
She told him of the bitterness, the unnerving hatred and vengeful glint that had made her uneasy. How she felt that vengeance was beginning to blind him to all else. She was afraid of him as much as his riddles.
"He said Arthur is the once and future King. And the druids have a name for you." He clarified, a thoughtful look on his face as the phase echoed back to his childhood.
"Do you know what that means?" She asked him. "You know more than you have been saying."
"Very little I'm afraid. I just know that you are different to any other…" He trailed off. "You're not a sorcerer. A sorcerer has to study magic and use incantations, words. Your magic is instinctive. I did believe you to be a witch but I don't think that is completely accurate. The things you can do...how magic reacts to you…You are something unique, child."
They sat for a moment in heavy silence. One which was broken by three quick brisk knocks on the chamber door and Lady Morgana striding in with barely a pause.
"I am sorry to interrupt, Gaius. But I need Merlyn." The Kings ward turned to address her maidservant, her manner more reserved than usual toward the younger woman.
"We are to leave Camelot tonight and escort Sir Tomas and his family back to Alderwoods. I am to stay for a short visit to repair relations. You will attend me."
"Of course, milady. I will start preparations right away." Merlyn curtsied before taking her leave.
"Are you alright? Milady?" Gaius asked the woman he had known since she was a child. "You do not seem like yourself."
Morgana looked at him for a long moment before slumping and sitting in chair Merlyn had just vacated.
"I am tired."
"Your nightmares have returned."
"Yes, those too. He doesn't see me as his queen, does he?" She turned flat, resigned eyes up at the speechless physician.
"He was bestowed the gift of lust and he still did not want me."
"The effect was marginalised on Arthur, my dear. He just had more control. It took us longer to realise he had been affected because of it."
"But he still doesn't want me. Or Guinevere for that matter, Uther was a bit annoyed at that. Did he show preference for anyone?"
"Not that I am aware of." Even as Gaius spoke, his nieces face popped into his head making him wonder if he was lying.
"I think a change of scenery will help clear my head."
"I can prepare some potions to help with your nightmares, but affairs of the heart…I'm afraid they are out of my area of expertise."
Morgana let out a small puff of laughter.
"I just don't understand. Why not I? I love Camelot and I never want to leave. I would be a good Queen. Why doesn't the King want me to marry Arthur? Why doesn't Arthur want me?"
"If I may be so bold, your highness. It sounds like perhaps it is not about Arthur…."
"I just need some space." Morgana spoke over him, not allowing the man to voice the thought she heard coming but refused to dwell on. Asserting herself she ordered the sleeping potions to be given to Merlyn and took her leave.
It was with mixed feelings that Prince Arthur watched Sir Tomas's family leave Camelot, Lady Morgana and her maidservant accompanying her.
He hadn't had a chance to catch up with Merlyn since that morning by the Lake. He had tried half-heartily to catch her that morning without success. They did need to talk but for the life of him he had no idea how to handle the conversation.
Those stolen moments by the lake were never far from his mind. The feelings she and the curse had awoken in him showed no sign of leaving although the compulsion and desperation were now mere shadows of the overwhelming need that had ravaged him during that day.
His eyes found her back as she rode on horseback along-side the litter that carried the two ladies as he struggled to think how to broach the conversation. Something had to be done. He would not risk any harm coming to her.
"It is going to be quiet around here." His father's voice was not unexpected, although his presence on the balcony was. The King had not left his room during the past few days. A sideways glance showed that his colour had improved from the worrying pasty pallor he had being wearing.
"Finally a little peace." He quipped.
"It won't be for long." Uther assured him. "Maybe absence will make the heart grow fonder."
Arthur let out a long sigh.
"Father, if I was going to fall in love with either of them it would have happened already," He decided to be blunt but his words washed over Uthers head.
"Love has very little to do with it." He returned equally as blunt. "You are the Crowned Prince and as such have a responsibility. Lady Guinevere would make a fine Queen and a fine wife if you let her."
"I am aware of my responsibilities." His son spoke though gritted teeth.
It was Uthers turn to sigh.
"Arthur, I am not having this conversation again. You need to give this some serious thought. Whether you like it or not."
With that Camelot's King left the balcony and his son, gazing down at the vanishing party, his thoughts troubled.
Nimeuh had watched events unfold in her stone basin. She had rubbed her hands in glee, roared with laughter and watched in delighted shock as the events of the past few days unraveled before her. The sight of the mighty King of Camelot shoving food into his mouth had been disgustingly horrid, Sir Tomas's outrage and Rosettes thievery so amusing to watch…
But Arthur and the little witches tryst had been enlightening. Emrys, the most powerful witch to have lived, a being of pure magic and the son of the tyrant King who was out to spill every drop of magical blood.
If she had not been so overtaken by her hatred and need for revenge, she would not have been blind to the feelings of the pair. Instead she saw only the curse, not the very real emotions between the pair. Perhaps she would have seen another path to restoring magic to Camelot.
Instead she grumbled at Emrys' latest interference in ending the curse. It was time to reach out to the younger woman. She needed to be reminded about whose side she should be on.
It was time to think, to plan her next move…