Lady of Magic
Chapter Five
Merlin's recovery ended up taking a week, a fact that served to make her irritable, which did not help. The King was efficient during this time, and it was clear by the fifth day that roads will be built, at least within Camelot itself.
She kept herself busy helping the druids, though after that first day they needed her less, especially as until she fully recovered, it was not safe for her to use her magic. The castle inhabitants regarded her with a mix of discomfort and familiarity. Most of her old friends had known her as the prince's manservant, and had never quite wrapped their heads around the image of her in a dress, much less a powerful sorceress and healer. For the most part, she saw only Gwen and Lancelot.
"What happened with you and the King?" Merlin asked.
Gwen was helping Merlin comb her hair, since Merlin could not reach back on her own.
"It just…didn't work out."
Merlin thought she would end there, but then she went on, "He changed, and I changed, over time, I guess. It was a dream to begin with," She paused, "I was never fit to be queen."
"What do you mean?"
"Arthur needed someone who knows how to run affairs," Gwen smoothed Merlin's hair, "Who can fight battles with him. He needs an ally. I've never had the training, nor do I have the willpower, really. I've been a servant all my life. I'm not use to leading, nor do I wish to."
"You don't have to define yourself by your birthright."
"No, but in this case, when I realized what was required of a King, and his Queen…it's not really something I want for myself, and as the crown changed Arthur—not for the bad, mind you, it's just…he stopped being able to give what I needed, and I could no longer fulfill what he wanted."
This saddened Merlin a little.
"So I married Lancelot."
The sorceress raised her eyebrows. She had not paid much attention, but the times she had seen Gwen and Lancelot together had not hinted of their relationship at all.
"Are you happy?" She asked, swallowing her surprise. It was not actually shocking, she was just not prepared for it when they were talking about the King.
"Yes," Gwen stepped back, smiling slightly. "Lancelot is a good man. Not Arthur, but we are good for each other, and it all turned out for the best."
It sounded that way, anyway.
"I wish you had told me," Gwen suddenly said, "This part, at least. It would have been nice to have a girl friend to chat with."
Merlin stared despondently. "I wanted to, too."
It would have been nice. It was not possible, given the dangers of her situation, especially in the beginning when she did not know who was trustworthy or of good character, and then later on when too much time had passed for any reveal to be considered. There were times, though, when Gaius had not been enough. Gaius had been like a father to her, but he was still a man. Sometimes Merlin wondered how she stumbled her way through the years without getting into trouble. So many things could have happened.
So many things did.
It was in the past now, though. She had to look at the present, and in the present, there was the fact that she was looking very much at a full return to Camelot, with her clinic. Arthur is King, Morgana is still at large, Gwen is married to Lancelot and they had all grown up without each other for five years.
She could just withdraw, claim that she changed her mind. She hardly signed any sort of contract about moving to Camelot, and the King could not force her to stay. She had run away before. This would not be unusual.
But what would you be running from? It had been five years. Camelot did welcome magic now, and now that she returned, she suddenly had to face all these people, these beings, who had searched for her through the years, waited for her, looked to her to lead them to their respective destinies. Ever since taking up the mantle of healer, Merlin had never failed anyone again, and to run away, to flee, would mean failing all these druids, all these people in Camelot who had nothing to do with the bad choices she had made and the mistakes that had cost her all of her happiness.
"What are you thinking about?" Gwen asked softly.
Merlin quirked a corner of her lip. She never had a chance to indulge this side of her with Gwen before, but now she allowed herself to. "Men."
"Oh?"
She shrugged, wondering if she wanted to drag on the pun a little longer, but decided not to. "Mankind." She turned away. "I'm going to be dragged into these sordid affairs again."
Gwen was quiet for a moment. "There is good in Camelot. You use to see it."
Merlin bowed her head. "I know."
"Why did you run?"
She clutched the skirts of her dress. "I was afraid."
"Of Arthur?"
She blinked, and the tears poured unexpectedly. "I was putting aside everything for his sake," She said in an even voice even as water trailed down her cheeks, "He was my world. My destiny." Arthur's face, filled with horror and disgust, loomed in the forefront of her mind. It was an expression she never had truly believed she would see, much less see directed at her. "I realized I had been…placing my future entirely in his hands—placing those I loved, those who loved me, in his hands, and that he…was capable of tearing all of us apart."
Gwen knelt in front of her, "But surely you heard how he was looking for you? He never stopped blaming himself for what happened. Why didn't you come back?"
Merlin shook her head, trying hard to compose herself. "I made enemies for him," She shook her head again, "You know, I was an outcast in Ealdor, but I was never anyone's enemy. If it had just been me, I would have…done everything so differently. I gave up my identity for him, and it cost me my mother and my uncle." She wiped her eyes and her face, collecting herself. "I don't want to do that anymore. He might be King of Camelot, he could have whatever great destiny he wants, but there were things that I loved, things that I feared, that I placed aside for his sake because for years I thought he was more important than anyone else—more important than me, or my friends, or my family—and that was wrong. I stayed away because I needed to find myself again, to remake my identity free from Arthur's shadow. I'm not making the same mistakes again. I am a Healer, nothing more, and if I'm going to be in Camelot now, I want him to keep his nose out of my clinic unless he actually needs healing, and I want nothing to do with whatever insipid politics this kingdom is dealing with." She glanced at herself. "I think it's obvious by now that I'm no warrior. I'll take care of Morgana, and maybe Mordred, but if he offends anyone else I will not be fighting for him."
"So this is where the esteemed 'Emrys' is hiding." The voice practically oozed with ill-intent. Merlin looked up from her bubbling cauldron and stared flatly at the intruder.
"Hiding is perhaps a strong word," She replied, "For I made no effort to hide this clinic. Is there something you needed?"
"As a matter of fact, yes." He was a young man, around Merlin's age, but selfishness and greed had aged him, wore lines in his face from the expressions he wore as he contemplated how to ruin others. "I have a task, and someone of your abilities is most suitable for it."
"Someone of my abilities?" Merlin stirred, unconcerned, "And what abilities are those, pray tell?"
He chuckled. "No need to be so modest. All who know magic know who and what you are. King Arthur was a fool, to let you go, but you can be assured that I will make no such mistake."
"And who are you?" She looked at his profile.
"I am Crestathion."
The name had some meaning for her, and as soon as he turned around to look at her expectantly, she realized why. Crestathion was a powerful wizard, and the druids had spoken of him before. She paused in her stirring to consider her response.
"Crestathion of the White Mountains," She murmured, "You are far from home."
"I see my name precedes me."
"We are on even footing then," She resumed stirring, "But someone with your abilities hardly needs someone with mine."
"Not true. The task I have in mind requires both of us to work together."
She slid a lid over the cauldron to let it simmer. "Whatever it is, I cannot help you."
"Oh?" A warning laced his tone. "You will turn down the offer before you even hear what it is?"
"I do not want you to be my enemy," She turned to look at him flatly, "But neither will I be a partner to anything other than what I do here. This is a place of healing, a sanctuary for the sick. Should you ever need such services, the door is open to you. Otherwise," She pointed, "I will not be part of any plan of yours, for the good or ill of Albion. If you wish me to be your enemy, I will indulge. I will point out, 'tis better that you have this clinic at your disposal, than to incur the wrath of Emrys. Choose wisely."
When the time came, the King sent Sir Gwaine with her to retrieve her belongings and move her clinic. Gwaine was assigned a team of men to help, even though Merlin insisted she could stuff everything she owned in a knapsack and hardly needed such an escort.
"Just go with it," Said the knight, looking at her strangely, "Having more people with us will divert attention away. The more people we have, the less likely bandits would want to attack."
"I can just fly there," Merlin told him in exasperation.
"Oh? And how are you going to bring the stuff back? Or are you going to just disappear on us again?" He took her hand to kiss it, causing Merlin to feel distinctly uncomfortable. "You'll allow us this assurance, we beg of you."
So it was that Merlin found herself on a wagon as the King stood silently a distance away, watching the company prepare to depart. He looked very alone despite being surrounded by Gwen and Lancelot and some of the other knights. It struck Merlin to realize that he had no family now, just like her, and had no family for a long time. It use to be that both of them had a parent to look after them, but now…Arthur's father had died years ago, his mother when he was born, and the woman he thought of as sister had only recently just tried to kill him. Even with allies and friends, it was still different from having family.
Maybe Arthur had reacted the way he did because he had been terrified too, to realize that the only people left close to him were those he did not know.
She raised a finger to point at him. "You better not stir up trouble, King. I'm not going all the way out and coming back just so that there's no place for me here."
The King looked slightly annoyed, though he hid it well. "The deal stands, Healer. You will have a place here."
She met his blue gaze, noting that as frustrated as he was, she was not quite willing to soften her end of their relationship. There was a power, to keep him at a distance, to choose not to be subordinate, warm up to him just because they had once been close. Despite feeling bad for him, she was not willing to necessarily be friends with him yet.
Or perhaps she did not know how.
"I know you've probably had many try to persuade you—"
Merlin groaned. "What is it with you people and your obsession with Camelot?"
"Camelot remains an important nation, Healer. Its fate impacts the welfare of all." The female druid moved to block Merlin as she tried to head back out.
"If you're so worried, perhaps you should go to Camelot to help its king. Why harass me? I made it clear, time and again. I don't want to go back. I am doing perfectly fine here; it is a role in life I chose, here I do no harm to anyone and all that goes on outside the clinic is of no relevance to me. Now get out of my way because I have patients waiting."
"Healer, the fate of the King determines thousands upon thousands of lives—"
"So that makes him more important than the common man?"
"There is a growing threat, Healer," The woman grabbed her sleeve, "One you may not see coming, but the seers do."
"Morgana, Mordred, the usual."
"Nay. The darkness to come is far too profound to assume mortal shape, and Camelot is the key to our defense. You are the key to our defense."
Merlin laughed bitterly. "Sure. I'll crawl back to Arthur proclaiming something about destinies, this darkness that is far too profound for even me to see, and beg him to accept me back to Camelot like a starving dog. If Camelot needs me so much, you can go ahead and tell them where I am right now and he can knock on my door if he wishes. Just keep in mind all the patients here, and the lives that you place in his hands when you do. Now get out. I have work to do."
"I knew there was something off about you," Gwaine said conversationally as he rode next to the wagon.
"Oh?"
"You were too pretty for a boy," Gwaine winked.
Merlin rolled her eyes and felt something in her ease with how comfortable Gwaine was being. "Same old Gwaine, eh?"
"There was never hope for me changing," He pointed out. "I daresay, you look exquisite when you're not running around pretending to be a man."
"Knowing the number of women you have seen in your life, I shall take that as a compliment."
"You should. I have seen many beauties," Gwaine flashed her a toothy smile.
"And yet I see none by your side." This was an honest question, though. "Is it by choice, or ill luck, Sir Knight?"
"Perhaps a bit of both." Gwaine smirked again. "Perhaps that will change, upon this new…no, not 'addition', perhaps 'readdition', to Camelot?"
Merlin chuckled, "After watching from the other side, I am quite wise to you now, Sir."
"Are you? It has been years."
"I am quite wise to all of you, now." Merlin looked away.
"I don't remember," The girl was frightened, "I don't remember what happened. All I knew was, I drank some wine, and then the next thing that happened was me waking up in the shack, and my clothes were all over the place. I'm ten days late, and I don't even know who did this to me."
Merlin squeezed her hand, heart heavy. The girl was such a pretty child, face sweet and guileless and innocent. It took a cruel, vicious beast to do what was done to her, and Merlin thought back to her time in Camelot—she wondered, naïve and ignorant as she had been, if perhaps her disguise as a boy had saved her from much of the atrocities that were committed to girls just like her patient. How many suave, smooth, handsome men had she seen were actually those like this child's rapist? How many men hid their cruelty behind a mask of gentility and chivalry?
"You are pregnant," She said softly, "But your child will not live." The growing baby was not viable, which could not be said for some of the other victims Merlin had seen. "I can remove it for you, so that it will be painless. Do you have anyone to talk to?"
The poor girl shook her head, sniffling quietly. "I'm scared. They'll blame it on me, say I shouldn't have drunk the wine. Is there…" She hesitated, "Is there a spell, to make me forget this ever happened?"
When night fell, Merlin morphed into her bird form and fluttered to the branches to rest as the company set up camp. Gwaine smirked at this for some reason, but did not explain why. A fire was lit, tents were set up as well as bedrolls, and the horses were released to be fed.
"Can't be too comfortable up there," Gwaine finally beckoned to her.
Merlin stubbornly tucked her head under her wing. Her neck was not quite long enough to hold this position for too long, but the statement was clear.
"Aren't you hungry, lass?" Gwaine lifted a piece of bread and cheese.
Not especially. She had no interest in joining the company of men, and after a moment, Gwaine finally shrugged and turned to the rest of them to eat. The night passed this way, and eventually everyone settled down to sleep, after tossing a few logs into the fire.
She slept for a while, her dreams quiet and still, but was suddenly roused for seemingly no reason. Twitching her head back and forth, she tried to determine what startled her.
Merlin…
Mordred, Merlin returned, narrowing her eyes.
She fluttered from the branch to ascend high into the treetops before diving down toward where she knew the druid boy was. Mordred was taller than the last time she saw him, lanky and awkward even under his robes. She transformed into her human form and landed on a high branch, looking down at him.
"What do you want?" She snapped.
Mordred took his time in answering, probably also because this was the first time he had seen her as a woman. He appeared to be alone, but Merlin knew that right beneath where she stood crouched other druids who were his allies. They probably had expected her to land on the ground like a normal person, but they probably also did not expect her to arrive as a hawk.
"Five years, you have stayed away," He said to her, "You should not have come back."
She tilted her head. "And why is that?"
"Five years, we have left you alone," Mordred's eyes narrowed, "Despite your betrayal of our kind. If you pursue a return, Emrys, we will not spare you the onslaught."
Briefly, Merlin considered killing the brat right then and there. A mere lightning from the sky, and Mordred would not even have time to utter another useless threat.
"You're all mad," She said flatly, "You fight a war that was over long ago. I'm not wasting any more breath with you. Go play with your spells, and quit taking up my time."
The spell took her almost by surprise, snapping the branch she was standing on. She plummeted as another spell shot her way. Yanking her arms up, she emitted a flash of light, blinding the druids around her. She twisted her body so that she landed on her feet and fought not to cry out as pain stabbed through her bones at the harsh landing. Rage reddened her vision, especially at the reminder of how she had missed with Morgana. She dove into a roll and swept out an arc of magic. It sliced through the thick trunks of trees like they were butter, and through the woody crunches she also heard the sick sound of flesh tearing, blood squirting from the vessels.
She did not stop, instead sending a rush of waves. In the distance, Mordred screamed as he was struck.
Shut up, Merlin thought venomously, aiming another spell in his direction. Dust swept up as if a mighty hand scooped at the dirt. She balanced on one knee and took stock. In the distance, some druids were running, fleeing.
"Merlin!" Gwaine cried out, and there was a clunk of armor as the knight hurried to her. "Merlin, what—"
Mordred was still alive, his legs chopped off clean above the knee and blood spurting out from his arteries. His eyes glowed gold uselessly in stress. Merlin's own legs felt like they had been crushed, but a quick spell made her alright again. The other druids were dead, a lot of them decapitated. She got up, brushing the dirt off her skirts. Gwaine was too stunned to offer to help.
"Milady?" One of the other men inquired nervously.
Merlin considered Mordred and fought to crush the healer's instinct to stop the bleeding. She lost.
"Now what did you think was going to happen?" She demanded, as she reattached the limbs and tore off the hem of Mordred's robes to wrap them, "Tell you what, I let you go and we call it even; we both tried to kill each other, although technically I once saved your life, so you owe me one. Why don't you go take this opportunity and think on your life and what you've accomplished. In the meantime, stay the hell out of my way. For your information, I'm moving to Camelot because I run a clinic and more patients can come to me if I'm in Camelot than in Griton. I'm actually trying to improve the world and people's lives. What have you been doing? Leading the druids to fight war that ended when King Arthur welcomed magic to Camelot. This is why I hate teenagers." She stood up, wiping her hands on Mordred's torn robe. "Figure out what the hell you're doing before you risk your life and the lives of those around you, brat."
Gwaine was quiet the next morning when they continued on their way. Merlin was in a foul mood. She was a healer, this was not supposed to be any of her business. It seemed Camelot was determined to turn her into a murderer.
"You are alright?" He asked after a while, "You are unhurt?"
"I'm fine," She snapped. "What do you want?"
He withdrew to give her space. "Just checking on you. Worried, that's all."
"I can take care of myself!"
"I know, I know," He said in a placating tone. Merlin glared ahead.
If Mordred shows up again, I swear I will cut off his head, healer or not…
"Why did you let him go?"
"Don't ask." Merlin growled. "I don't know. Besides, we left him alone in the middle of the woods. Heaven knows if he survived the night."
"Do you regret it?"
"Yes," Merlin bit, "But what's the use?" She had already killed the other druids. Executing Mordred was different from killing in the heat of self-defense. "This whole sordid affair is abominable. Hopefully that brat is of some use, he can go warn others to stay out of my way."
"You have changed a lot," Gwaine mused.
Merlin said nothing. She doubted Gwaine knew the full extent of what she had done as Arthur's manservant, that she had killed back then, too, with far more intent than she did this time. Now, it seemed, simply going back to Camelot was pigeon-holing her into the role she once played.
So much for being just a healer.