Chapter 10: Determined

Gaius, somehow, was more cross with Merlin for secretly meeting the dragon than for nearly killing Arthur. He scolded Merlin until his ears had started ringing, then made Merlin clean out the leech tank twice in a row, claiming he had done an abysmal job the first time.

Exhausted, and sucked dry by leeches, Merlin was finally allowed to climb into bed shortly before midnight, only to receive another scolding over breakfast.

"… and you never cease to amaze me with your utter recklessness!" Gaius chided him, emphasising each syllable with a swing of his spoon. "You're a foolish, irresponsible boy!"

Merlin looked at him bashfully. "I know, Master Gaius."

Finally, his mentor seemed to calm himself. Before he fell quiet, he muttered something nearly incomprehensible – Merlin thought he caught the words sneaky dragon and Balinor all over again – but Merlin decided today was not the day to pry.

Instead, he asked as sweetly as he could, "So, will we ask the dragon for advice?"

Gaius's answering eyebrow was fearsome, but Merlin's determination to help Arthur was stronger.

"Please," Merlin begged. "For Arthur? Please?"

"I will think about it," Gaius conceded gruffly, then raised the spoon threateningly. "You will not go down there alone, or so the gods help me, Merlin, I will put you over my lap and finally give you that spanking you should've received weeks ago!"

Merlin gulped. "Yes, Master Gaius."

Merlin's ears were still hot from embarrassment when he arrived in Arthur's chambers that morning. He was almost too distracted by his own indignation to notice Morris, his eyes red-rimmed as he cleaned up the remainders of Arthur's breakfast. Belatedly, Merlin stopped in his tracks. For all the suffering Morris had to endure by Arthur's hand, the Prince had never managed to make him cry once.

"What happened?" Merlin asked him, glancing around to see Arthur was at his desk, reading – normally an indicator for a good day with little grousing.

Morris did not look up from stacking the dishes. He sniffed, then murmured, "My mother. She's much worse. I don't think she'll make it through the night…" He rubbed at his eyes and sniffed again.

Merlin settled a comforting hand on his back. "Why didn't you call for Gaius and I?"

Morris shook his head. "Gaius told us a year ago there's nothing to be done. She's got cankers in her chest. He cut and cauterised them twice, but they always grow back."

Merlin gave him a sympathetic look, recognising the description. Those kinds of malicious growths always had a poor prognosis. "I'm so sorry to hear that. When are you leaving?"

Morris bit his lip as he neatly placed the dishes on the tray.

Merlin frowned. "You haven't told Arthur?" At Morris's stubbornly averted eyes he added, "Morris, you must tell him! You need the day off. Two, even."

Morris finally looked up to give him a watery smile. "You know he can't grant me any leave. He won't let anyone else in here to tend to him."

"Your mother is dying," Merlin replied firmly. "Of course you'll take the day off!"

"Merlin!" snapped Arthur in that moment. "There you are! Stop gossiping with Morris and help me with the crutches already!"

Morris ducked his head, picked up the dishes and quickly left the rooms. Merlin looked after him, then walked up to Arthur's desk.

"At last he makes an appearance!" Arthur said and pointed at the crutches in the corner. "Let's get going. Those clouds out there look like rain and I'd rather not get soaked while we walk the garden." He frowned when Merlin did not make a move. "What is it?"

"Morris's mother is on her deathbed."

Arthur's mouth went slack. He looked past Merlin and towards the sitting room, then back at Merlin. "I—Lords, really? He didn't even say anything."

"Of course he didn't," Merlin said and crossed his arms. "You're an ass to him. He thinks you won't give him the day off."

Arthur grimaced and looked down at his lap. "Ah, well… I do have need of him…"

Merlin narrowed his eyes. "Arthur. His mother is dying. He needs to be with his family."

Arthur looked up again. Merlin was gratified to see that he at least had the decency to look shamefaced at his hesitation. "Yes, of course. You're right."

"My offer stands," Merlin reminded him. "I'll take over Morris's duties, no need to involve another servant. I'm positive Gaius can spare me for a day or two."

"Not much of a help to him, are you?" Arthur replied drily and Merlin made a face at him. More awkwardly, the Prince added, "You do understand this involves… unsavoury business…"

Merlin gave him a level look. "I'm a physician-in-training, Arthur. Nothing I haven't seen before." When Arthur still looked uncomfortable, he added more gently, "I'm serious. It's not a problem. I'd be glad to do it."

Arthur harrumphed. "Glad to help me wash my arse, are you?"

Merlin kept his face completely neutral when he deadpanned, "It would be an honour, my lord."

Arthur barked out a genuine laugh at that, then abruptly sobered, studying Merlin as if to search for some clue. "There's just something about you, Merlin…"

Merlin smiled cheekily. "My natural good looks?"

Arthur raised a sceptical eyebrow. "Not quite what I was going to say."

"Doesn't make it any less true," Merlin replied and as Morris chose that moment to return, he got in the last word.

Merlin jerked his head towards the sitting room and pointedly raised his eyebrows at Arthur.

Arthur cleared his throat. "Morris," he called out. "Would you come here for a moment?"

Morris dutifully walked over. He threw Merlin a look, swallowed visibly, then folded his hands before him and ducked his head. "Sire?"

"Merlin told me about your mother's poor condition. I'm sorry to hear it."

"Thank you, my lord," Morris replied quietly, nervously wringing his hands.

"I understand you'll be needed at home for the time being."

Morris winced. "Your Highness, I would never presume–"

"You're not presuming," Arthur intercepted and Merlin was startled by his tone. He had not known the Prince was capable of sounding this gentle. "Take as much time off as you need. Fully compensated, of course."

Morris's head snapped up. "Sire, I don't—"

Arthur raised a hand. "It's the least I can do. Don't hesitate to tell me if there is anything else you need, either. Additional funds, food from the kitchens, help with any arrangements…"

Morris was outright gaping now. "Th-thank you, my lord," he stammered.

Arthur looked the servant over, his eyes much softer than Merlin was used to seeing on him. "I regret that I made you feel like you couldn't come to me with this. You've been a good and loyal servant to me, in spite of… Well, I realise it's not exactly easy, serving somebody who is…" He gestured vaguely at his leg.

Morris straightened where he stood. "I don't mind the additional duties, sire."

Arthur gave him a quick nod. "Thank you, Morris. For everything you've done for me so far. It's long overdue that I said it. Your patience, diligence and discretion is commendable and I've not shown you the appreciation you deserve for your excellent work. I apologise for how poorly I've treated you in the past and will endeavour to be a better master to you in the future."

By the end of Arthur's little speech, Morris's eyes were shining. "Thank you, sire," he whispered, clearly overwhelmed.

Arthur gave an awkward sort of wave. "Yes, well. Don't let me keep you. Go, take care of your family. I wish you much strength."

Merlin did not think he had ever seen Morris bow this low, nor say Your Highness in a tone of such unguarded awe and reverence. He watched the servant go, then turned towards Arthur with a fierce sense of pride in his chest. He was of a half a mind to bow to Arthur, too.

"Arthur," he breathed. "That was… I mean…"

Arthur held up a hand and said gruffly, "Don't you dare make a big deal out of this!"

Merlin humoured him, but could not help but think that he had just seen a glimpse of a great king. And Arthur would be King, if Merlin had any say in the matter!

He made a quick dash downstairs to tell Gaius that Arthur needed him. Like he had thought, Gaius had no problem with Merlin taking Morris's spot for the time being, so he quickly gathered a change of clothes and what else he needed for an overnight stay, then returned to Arthur's chambers. He stashed his things away in the antechamber before Arthur and he went out for training.

"You'll have to explain everything to me, you understand," Merlin told him as they made their customary rounds through the garden. "I haven't got the slightest idea about how to be a prince's manservant."

Arthur huffed. "It'd be more difficult if I actually attended court." He shook his head. "I realise that Morris has been filling the role of a nurse more than that of a personal footman. As Gaius's apprentice, you're probably better qualified to tend to me than he is."

Merlin studied him. "How's your leg today?"

"Smarts," Arthur replied curtly.

"And the cravings?"

Arthur looked away.

"You would tell me if it gets really bad again, right?" Merlin prodded. "You don't need to hide anything from me. I'd never judge you for it."

"How could you not, after what I did?" Arthur sighed. They were approaching the bench now and Arthur walked over to lower himself on it. "I think I never actually apologised for what I did to you. I put you in an impossible position with your master, and if that dose of poppy essence had killed me, my father would have likely had you and Gaius executed." He gave Merlin an earnest look when he added, "I behaved terribly. I'm sorry."

Merlin blinked rapidly. There he was again, King Arthur.

Arthur had spoken without a hint of grousing or teasing, radiating regal grace even as he was seated, and it took Merlin's breath away. Arthur had never appeared more the noble Prince than when he gave a heartfelt apology.

Aiming to lighten the sombre mood, Merlin gave him a crooked smile. "Two apologies in one day? Should I be worried about you getting your affairs in order next?" Arthur grimaced and Merlin's heart sank. "Should I be?" he repeated. "Are you having… thoughts?"

Arthur snorted. "Many, but nothing like you're suggesting." He leaned back on the bench and rubbed two fingers over the bridge of his nose before he revealed, "I'm thinking about asking for an audience with my father."

Merlin leaned in. "Really? That's fantastic! You two have a lot to talk about."

Arthur gave him the side eye. "I'm thinking about abdicating from my position as heir apparent and making room for Morgana's claim to the throne."

"What?"

Arthur closed his eyes for a second. "Look at me. I'm not king material."

"Are you mad?" Merlin exclaimed. "Of course you are! You've got all the necessary qualities!"

Arthur abruptly sat up on the bench and glared. "How many times do I need to tell you to stop patronising me?" he growled.

Merlin met his heated eyes head-on, jutting out his chin. "I won't apologise for telling you the truth."

"The truth," Arthur returned, anger quickly turning into resignation, "is this: By clinging to my status, I'm destabilising the realm. Uncertainty about the succession is poison for any kingdom. I realise you're not experienced enough in the ways of politics to understand just how much of a conundrum my father was facing when he decided to legitimise Morgana. He knew elevating a bastard daughter to royal status would cost him much of his standing amongst the lords of Camelot and other rulers, but it was an act born of desperation. He needs a capable heir and I'm damaged goods."

"You're not damaged!" Merlin retorted.

Arthur pointed at his leg in an exaggerated gesture.

Merlin made an abortive move with his hand. "Stop talking about yourself like you're— you're—"

"A cripple?"

"Worthless!" Merlin finished. "Because you're not. Your worth as a person does not depend on how many limbs are still attached to your body!"

"My worth as a person, no," Arthur conceded. "But my worth as a prince? Very much so."

"Is it really so important that you can no longer wield a sword?" Merlin replied, throwing up his hands. "I don't see Uther riding out on those patrols each week! He sends out his knights while he sits comfortably on the throne!"

"Careful," Arthur hissed. "That's your king you're talking about!"

No, it's really not, Merlin thought. "My point is: Much of a king's work is delegating tasks! You can do that on crutches as much as on two feet!"

"And what would you know of a king's work, Merlin?" Arthur scoffed. "You're a peasant, raised on some run-down farm amongst the pigs and cows. Stick with your trade!"

Merlin recoiled, suddenly seeing no glimpse of Arthur's earlier nobleness. He felt his expression slip and Arthur spotted it, too, for he immediately grimaced.

"Merlin, I—"

"No," Merlin intercepted. "Your Highness is right. I'm just a peasant and I know very little of the ways of royalty. Do you think I don't know how lucky I am to be Gaius's apprentice? To have earned a place at a royal court and regularly converse with a prince?"

"Merlin—"

"Let me finish," Merlin snapped. "For your information, I'm not just a peasant. I'm a bastard, too. And I don't have the privilege of being a royal one, either. I'm the lowest of the low. So I know what it's like to be shunned for something I've got no control over. I know what it's like to be judged and brushed aside. But I decided long ago not to let others decide my worth. Because I am worthy and I deserve to be treated with respect."

Arthur's face showed real remorse. "Merlin, I never meant to imply—"

"I know you're hurting," Merlin interrupted him again. "I know life has dealt you a terrible hand. Perhaps I am vastly overstepping as a peasant, but I'd like to believe I'm not overreaching as your friend when I'm telling you that you should not give up now. Gaius and I will find a way to manage your pain without theriac. You and I will continue training until you feel ready to attend court again and then, you will prove to everybody out there, including your father, that it is of no consequence to the succession that you're missing an end. You are still the rightful heir to the throne and you will, one day, be the King of Camelot!" Finished, Merlin took a deep breath, then stared Arthur down.

The Prince was staring back at him, eyes wide, quite clearly struck speechless. For a moment, there was dead silence between them. Finally, Arthur managed, "Did you prepare this address in advance?" He sounded choked.

Merlin huffed. "No. I'm quite capable of stringing more than two sentences together without preparation, thank you very much."

Arthur was still blinking dumbly at him. "That was… inspiring. You should write the King's speeches."

Merlin smirked, then said pointedly, "Feel free to hire me once you've ascended to the throne, my lord."

At that, Arthur chortled. It soon turned into a proper guffaw. Finally, he shook his head and rubbed a hand over his forehead before he threw Merlin another look. "You really believe I could still become king? Like this?"

"Absolutely."

Arthur studied him for a moment longer. "Then for you, I won't abdicate just yet."

Merlin sent him a brilliant smile. "Good. Now come on. Two more rounds and then, I'll play the manservant and pamper Your Highness."

"Pamper? Tempting." Arthur tapped a finger against his chin, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Mhm. I think I'm feeling like a big lunch today. Five courses, at least. That means a lot of walking up and down the stairs for you, of course, but as you so eloquently pointed out, I am the future King of Camelot…"

"Who is, I believe, well-known for his restraint and scorn for gluttony—"

"No, no, I don't believe he is."

They teased and ribbed each other all the way around the garden.

Merlin did end up fetching a big lunch, but only so they could eat together, breaking about every rule in the etiquette books about what was proper between a prince and a (temporary) manservant, as Arthur pointed out with a grin. The atmosphere between them was light and happy. Merlin felt like something had settled in that garden, like an important shift had occurred, too, and if only he managed to cure Arthur of the worst of the pain, Arthur might yet be convinced that he was still every bit the Prince.

They spent the day leisurely. Arthur insisted on teaching Merlin chess ("The Game of Kings, isn't it?" Merlin pointed out), then proceeded to berate him when he refused to sacrifice his pawns ("Subjects die for their King and Queen all the time, Merlin!" – "Well, I don't particularly fancy dying for an ass like you!" – "It's a game!").

After dinner, Merlin decided he was not going to sleep in the gloomy antechamber and pushed Morris's pallet into the sideroom.

"What on Earth are you doing?" Arthur asked from his bed. Merlin had already helped him into his nightclothes and under the blanket.

"Morris's room doesn't even have a proper window, only an arrowslit," Merlin told him. "Really, it's not much of a room at all. It's a dungeon cell."

Arthur looked just a little outraged. "You're not sleeping in the Prince's chambers!"

"Why not?" Merlin retorted, placing the pallet right next to Arthur's bed. "Haven't you ever had a sleepover when you were young?"

"With whom?" Arthur shot back. "Morgana? Father would have had a fit!"

"Well, I slept at Will's all the time." Merlin paused to give the pallet a critical look, then adjusted the angle. "He let me share his bed whereas at home, I had to sleep on the floor."

"Who is Will?"

"My best friend, from Ealdor." Satisfied with the placement, Merlin lay down on the pallet and sighed. It was quite comfortable.

Arthur must have misinterpreted the sound. "Do you miss him?"

Merlin thought for a moment. "Not as much as in the beginning." He turned on the pallet so he was facing Arthur. "I quite enjoy my job. And I've got new friends now."

Arthur looked away and at the canopy, but Merlin saw him smile all the same. "Why did you leave Ealdor?" he asked.

"Didn't fit in anymore," Merlin replied vaguely. I fought off Kanen and his bandits with a mighty whirlwind and my cover was quite spectacularly blown, he did not say. "I don't think I ever did, really."

"Do you feel like you fit in at Camelot?"

"I don't know. There seem to be a lot of terrible prats around these parts," Merlin said in mock-thoughtful voice, then let out an oof when he was hit with a pillow. "Oi! Case in point, you ass!"

Arthur grinned at him. Merlin did not think he had ever seen him look so carefree and it almost made his chest explode with happiness.

"If you snore, I'll have the guards drag you out," the Prince threatened as Merlin went to blow out the candles.

"If you snore, I'll smother you with that pillow you threw at me," Merlin shot back as he settled down on the very same pillow.

"Threatening to murder the Prince? That's treason!"

"Shite! Reckon I'll have to go through with it now!"

"You'd still hang."

"Nah. Gaius examines the bodies for foul play. He'll cover for me…" Merlin trailed off and grimaced into the darkness when he realised their joking had come closer to recent events than he would have liked.

Arthur seemed to have sensed it, too. "You know I would never tell my father that Gaius lied to him to protect you."

"I know," Merlin murmured.

"Gaius gave me a great lecture when I woke up from that dose of poppy tears, did I ever tell you that?"

Merlin shifted on the pallet. "No. What did he say?"

"Made sure I was all right first, of course. Then tore into me how I used you ill and how I didn't know how lucky I was to have made a friend like you. He must have been taking pointers from you, because he managed to make every Your Highness sound like an insult."

In spite of Arthur's light tone, Merlin's stomach squeezed. "He shouldn't have said that to you."

"He was right though. I am lucky." Arthur paused. "And I'd like to say thank you, too."

"For what?" Merlin exclaimed indignantly. "Being your friend? Don't you dare thank me for that, you idiot!"

"For not giving up on me."

"Oh."

"You don't know how much that means to me." There was some rustling, then Arthur added gruffly, "Good night, Merlin."

"Good night," Merlin choked out. He might have teared up a little, but in the dim chambers, nobody – least of all Arthur – could see.

He fell asleep feeling warm and fuzzy with happiness.

In the morning, Arthur suffered another episode.

Gaius came up with the theriac. He made a point of examining the leg first, making sure Arthur was not faking it, before upending half a bottle of medicine right into Arthur's mouth. Afterwards, the Prince rolled onto the side and pulled the blanket over his head, last night's elation wiped out by lingering discomfort and unsatisfied cravings.

Devastated by the setback, Merlin pulled Gaius aside and urged him, "Have you decided? About the dragon?"

Gaius grimaced. "If we're caught down there—"

Merlin reached out to take Gaius's right hand, cradling it in both of his. "Gaius, I'm begging you. Arthur's about ready to give up. He's been talking about abdicating to let Morgana have the throne. And then what? What goal will he have to work for? What will be his motivation to keep fighting? We'll lose him for good. I know it."

Gaius looked towards the sideroom where Arthur was but a trembling lump underneath crimson fabric.

"Fine," he sighed after a long moment. "Once Morris has returned, you and I will go visit the dragon."

"Thank you," Merlin breathed and could not help but engulf his mentor into a tight hug. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

"Don't thank me yet," Gaius said gruffly when Merlin had pulled back. "The dragon might not have an answer, either, and then we're back to square one."

"It's worth a shot," Merlin replied firmly. "And it's worth the risk, too. For Arthur, it's worth it."

Gaius smiled at him. He reached out to brush a hand over Merlin's hair, then cupped Merlin's cheek. "You're a good lad, Merlin. Your mother can be proud of raising such a fine young man."

Two days later, when Morris had returned – a black band wrapped around his arm and awfully pale, but adamant about resuming work – Merlin and Gaius waited until it was past midnight, then snuck down the spiral staircase, dodging and distracting guards in the dungeons until they had made it into the dragon's cave unscathed.

"Young warlock," the dragon rumbled as he landed, then drew back his head. "And Gaius!" He narrowed his eyes. "How old a man can become and yet change so little."

"Wait, you two know each other?" asked Merlin.

"We've met," Gaius confirmed tightly. "Hello, Kilgharrah."

"Kilgharrah?" Merlin stared at the dragon. "You never told me your name!"

The dragon grinned, fangs gleaming dangerously in the light of Merlin's torch. "Names are much more important to you humans than us dragons." He cocked his head. "What brings you two here? Things must be dire up in the castle to draw Gaius from his tower and all the way down into this godsforsaken cave."

"It's about Arthur," Merlin said. "He's hurting because of his leg."

"I am sorry to hear the Prince is still suffering. But what do you expect me to do about it? I told you, regrowing a limb is impossible without risking one's own body and soul."

"We believe the pain is caused by a lingering curse," Gaius explained. "Dark magic, the likes of which I have seldom seen. A curse designed so that an inflicted wound can never close again. We need a counter-curse to alleviate Prince Arthur's suffering."

Kilgharrah puffed out a little cloud of smoke. "Hear, hear! Gaius, Uther's loyal pet, prepared to use magic! I thought you had renounced any ties to sorcery when you decided to support the tyrant and endorsed his Purge."

Startled, Merlin whipped his head around to stare at Gaius. "What is he talking about?"

"I never endorsed the Purge, Kilgharrah, and you know it!" Gaius retorted, eyes on the dragon. "Nimueh brought Uther's wrath onto herself, but I tried to help as many innocent people escape as I could."

"Yet you stayed by Uther's side and watched countless more burn," Kilgharrah accused.

Gaius's face twisted into a mask of pain and remorse and his shoulders slumped. "Yes. That I cannot deny."

Kilgharrah let out another puff of smoke. "You are protecting the boy, at least. You know of his destiny, I take it?"

Gaius glanced at Merlin. "So it is true?"

Merlin gaped at him. Gaius knew about his destiny? He had never even let on!

Kilgharrah chuckled. "Of course. He and the young Pendragon are to unite the land of Albion. Is that not why you deigned to visit me at last? To save the Once and Future King?"

"I'm here to help a young man who is in great pain, not some figure of legend," Gaius replied sharply. "You know as well as I how fickle prophecies can be."

"Fickle?" Kilgharrah scoffed. "We are not talking about the witch's ever-changing visions, nor the unsophisticated soothsaying of the druids. Arthur's destiny was long written in the stars when these lands emerged from the waters wild and untamed, as was the boy's."

Merlin decided he had had enough of this cryptic nonsense. "Well? Do you know a counter-curse to help Arthur or not?" he demanded.

Kilgharrah turned his eyes on Merlin. "If Gaius is speaking the truth, we are dealing with dark magic indeed. I do know how to counter such a malefaction, but I am old and granting you this ability will cost me. I want something in return."

"I'm willing to pay any price," Merlin told him firmly.

"Merlin!" Gaius chastised at once. "What are you doing? Don't make such promises to a creature of magic!"

"Any price?" Kilgharrah rumbled. "Very well, I will name mine: I shall grant you the knowledge and power to help the Prince you hold so dear, but in return, I want your solemn vow that you will free me from my prison."

"Done," said Merlin.

"Merlin!" Gaius hissed.

"But only," Merlin amended quickly, "if your help proves valuable. And I will decide when the time is right to free you, not you."

"Why should I bargain with you, boy?" Kilgharrah sneered. "You want something only I can give you."

Merlin opened his mouth, but could think of no further leverage. Gaius, though, seemed to have an idea.

"You know what else the boy is, Kilgharrah," Gaius said cryptically. "You know what powers he will one day wield. You would do well not to anger him, even now, when he has yet to come into his inheritance."

Kilgharrah roared and Merlin took a step back. But to his surprise, the dragon calmed quickly, then bowed his head. "Very well. The deal is struck. But I will not wait forever, young warlock." He stretched his neck until his head was close to the ledge. "Come closer, Merlin, and I will give you what you need to counter the curse."

Merlin passed the torch to Gaius, then approached until he was so close to the dragon that he could feel his hot, sulphur breath prickle against his skin. "What do I need to do?" he asked.

"Close your eyes."

Merlin did, bracing himself.

He was lit on fire; engulfed in unyielding, unbearable heat, his body filled with searing agony. He had no idea if he had started screaming in pain. All his other senses seemed to have been numbed, deaf and dull compared to the burning torment shredding his skin. Soon, he lost all sense of time and place.

Am I burning on the pyre? he thought. Did Arthur find me out?

Abruptly, the heat vanished and Merlin found himself on his knees, gasping, with Gaius by his side. He stared at his hands, curled into the stone below, and found his skin intact. He had not been burnt at all. Neither had hours passed, but mere seconds. It took him a moment to orient himself, to notice that his head was throbbing violently. His skull felt like it would burst any moment, filled as it was with knowledge – knowledge he had not held a moment before.

"Merlin!" Gaius exclaimed, his free hand placed on Merlin's shoulder as he peered closely at him. "Are you hurt?"

Merlin shook his head, then said roughly, "I know now. I know how we can help Arthur."

author's note: Thank you for your lovely comments! I am terrible about responding to them on bc. of the PM design, but be assured I am reading and greatly appreciating them all! :)