()()()
I Am the Embers of You Fire - You Are the Breaking of My Dawn
Part 7
()()()
The following morning is bright and while Gaius is away to speak with the King about his latest findings, Merlin quickly takes a walk through the castle in search for Gwen. Eventually, he spots a familiar yellow dress in the corridor and smiles when seeing her face: Gwen is practically glowing with happiness.
"Hi, Gwen," he says as casually as he can. "How's your father? Is he getting any better?"
"It's incredible actually," she says with tears gleaming in her eyes, but not from grief but from joy, and she smiles wide at him: "He's – he's almost made a full recovery already. It's a miracle."
He's close to breaking out in laughter, relief flooding through him and dangerously near to bubbling to the surface. "That's great!" he says and then bites his lip, suddenly feeling guilty, wishing he'd healed everyone not just a single man – so many out there could have been saved. If somehow he could heal them all, magic or no, then …
Suddenly he finds that Gwen has stopped humming, giving him a curious glance. "How did you know he's getting better? You don't seem that surprised."
"I … just a feeling," he says quickly mentally berating himself for nearly spilling like that. "It's a miracle. I'm happy for you."
Before he can go, she stops him gently laying a hand on his elbow. Her hand is warm and soft, rather small but comforting. She squeezes once. Almost as if she knew, but of course she doesn't: and she can't know either, for the sake of them both.
"Thank you, Merlin."
"What for?" he asks, surprised. Gwen looks at him serious and sincere.
"You know … just for asking."
"That's what friends are for, right?"
()()()
Curious when the physician puts down the vial on the large council table, Arthur reaches out to pick it up. The substance looks to be only water, clear and plain; but inside it rests a completely white stem. He recognizes the species, it grows in abundance in the surrounding woods especially during spring; but now it looks as if the lilac flower has abruptly withered, entirely lifeless before his eyes.
"Don't touch it!" Gaius warns. "I've had this in water for just a few hours."
"Where is the water from?" the King asks, startled.
"The pump from which the people take their daily supply."
"Then we have to stop people from using it," Arthur says, but then comes the question: where from then will they get water? They need water above almost all else. Without water, the city's inhabitants soon will thirst to death. Without water no kingdom can function.
"We have to find this sorcerer!" Uther spits furiously.
Arthur turns toward him. "I don't believe their inside Camelot. If they once were they must now be long gone. We've started to extend the search but we cannot search the entire Kingdom."
"And I can't let this kingdom die," the King's reply is stern and Arthur nods, before leaving the room, a troubled feeling at the pit of his stomach. "I will not let magic crumble Camelot."
()()()
It's then Merlin hears of it; whispers in the corridors, between the servants, between the townsfolk, words that don't go unheard by the guards or knights. About the simple smith in the lower town who merely a day ago lay dying, and now is back working in full vigor. He's happy at first, relieved. But then he realizes what it means.
And finally Arthur finds out and quickly confronts him. "Did you know of this, Merlin, did you hear of it?"
"I – yes," he admits, since it's pointless to lie. "Gwen's my friend, of course I … I asked."
"You understand, don't you, what it means?" the Prince says next and there's something dark in his expression. Almost like regret. Merlin's eyes widen. "When one single man miraculously recovers, while so many others have died."
"No," Merlin gasps, horrified, because Gwen and her father are at risk now; what kind of friend is he to put them in that danger? He's such a stupid idiot! Arthur has listened to him before and he's proved to the Prince that he's right, and even if this time is a lie, he'll do anything to deter the Prince's suspicion from Gwen and her father. "I'm sure it's not…It's convenience, or luck, or – I don't know but it's not…it's not magic, it can't be. Arthur—"
Usually the Prince would scold him for using his name like that but now, Arthur isn't focused on it and doesn't berate him.
"There is no other answer, Merlin. I know it's difficult to accept if you two were … close," the Prince says it in an odd tone of voice but Merlin is too upset to think of it now. "But you must accept it."
Why can't the prat listen for once?
"No, you don't understand! They're innocent!"
"Leave, Merlin. Go tend to your duties." Momentarily Arthur meets his eyes, stern and somber. "And for your own sake, stay out this."
()()()
His protests fall on deaf ears and he's never felt so much anger at himself, nor as much despair, as when Gwen is dragged to the dungeons screaming and pleading and he can just stand back and watch.
()()()
It doesn't take long for Gaius to find out. When he does, he is furious. He pulls his ward to his chamber and shuts the door tightly, in case of anyone passing by. They should not be overheard.
"What were you thinking?" the old man shouts.
"I – I wasn't thinking," Merlin admits. "It just seemed so simple; I saved Gwen's father, I saved a life. I couldn't let him die, he's the only family Gwen has and … I just couldn't let him die."
Gaius sighs. "An easy solution is like a light in a storm, Merlin – rush for it at your own peril for it might not always lead you to a safe harbour. What if you'd been caught?"
"It'd been better if I had been!" Merlin retorts angrily. "Then it wouldn't be Gwen being accused for sorcery and about to be burned at the stake!" Abruptly he draws away, a sudden fierceness to his steps as he walks toward the door. "It should be me, not Gwen. She's innocent. She has nothing to do with this."
"And how are you going to prove that?"
The warlock wrenches the door open and rushes down the narrow stairs of the tower, ignoring his mentor's cry behind him.
"Merlin, wait!"
()()()
He has to see her first. Assure her it's going to be all right.
The chains are too short for Gwen to approach and touch the cell doors, so she stops half-way there, and she looks so miserable, so alone, tears lingering on her face.
"I'm sorry," Merlin says chest tightening, oh god what have I done? – "I'm so sorry."
She smiles at him weakly. "It's not your fault."
Hearing her say that so sincerely makes his heart break, he swallows harshly. Why did he do it? Why did he condemn her like this? He shouldn't have …! But then her father would have died, if he hadn't healed him and she'd still be in tears. Whatever he could have done, would have done, it doesn't matter now anyway; what's done is done.
"It's alright," she says, trying to sound strong. "Don't worry about me. There's no point crying about it. I mean...I mean, I'm not saying that you were going to cry about me. Obviously I don't think that."
"Oh, Gwen ... I can't have this happen."
"Please, one thing. You, you don't have to, but..."
"What?"
"Remember me."
"You're not going to die." He looks into her eye: a promise. "I'm not going to let this happen."
()()()
The council meeting has been gathered in a hurry. They are to discuss what to do, but Arthur already knows the conclusion they will come to: the sorceress – Arthur finds it difficult to believe, to grasp, since Guinevere so loyally has served Morgana all these years – must burn. She must burn and then they can only hope the curse on the water will be lifted.
She'd looked so fragile when forced to kneel on the stone before the King and his men, tears forming streaks down her face. While accusations and questions were flung at her, Arthur stood back, still struggling to grasp it. He is Prince and thus does not know the girl, or any other servant, but he knows Morgana thinks highly of her. That the maidservant is dear to her, even. Arresting her had felt like betraying his step-sister which was a new strange feeling, but it's eating at him and he can still feel Morgana's glares as if they've left scorch marks on his back.
But all evidence point toward Guinevere being guilty: her father's recovery, the poultice, the fact she is not sick … Arthur cannot turn a blind eye. The King cannot turn a blind eye.
(Arthur has this odd urge to ask Morgana what she would've done in his shoes, if he had this responsibility, but keeps his mouth shut; it'd only make things worse. He's not in the mood for another row with her.)
After the maidservant was dragged away, the lady hadn't hesitated to turn toward the King seething. And Arthur had found himself agreeing with her, with a conviction he's never before felt on the behalf of a condemned magic user.
"She's right, father. As soon as you hear the word 'magic' you no longer listen!"
That is not what you say to your King and father.
The meeting is heated. A solution is so very near and finally they might be pulled back from the brink and save the kingdom. But there's the ever-present worry: what if burning her won't stop the poison?
Then, when the King is in the middle of a sentence as he paces back and forth by the head of the table, the doors are flung open with a bang, and Arthur whips his head around and his jaw drops.
"It was me. I'm the sorcerer!" Merlin cries, hands out. "I used magic to cure Gwen's father."
Complete silence falls onto the hall. Arthur's throat suddenly feels thick. No. He can't be serious. The idiot simply cannot be. No. The boy doesn't stand there wringing his hands in nervousness, there's no sweat on his brow. His breath has quickened but he stares at the council in earnest. As if he truly means the words.
Arthur stands, gaining the attention of the men around the table. "Merlin," he growls, "you better have a good explanation for this."
"Gwen is not the sorcerer. I am!"
Is he mad? Is he truly out of his mind? Hadn't Arthur warned him to stay out of it? Oh, of all the most stubborn creatures on this earth, Merlin has just proved he's the most idiotic of them all! Has he no sense of self-preservation whatsoever? Desperation shines through Merlin's face; he truly wants them to believe he's a magic user and that they have him arrested. The fool!
"I cannot let her die for me," Merlin continues, stoic and sounding slightly calmer now, and he turns to the King. "I place myself at your mercy."
Before his father can pass judgment upon the boy, Arthur intervenes. "This is a mistake, father. I apologize on the behalf of my manservant. He isn't very … isn't very bright."
"He has given himself up to his King," Uther says and beckons the guards by the door. "Arrest him."
"Father, please! I can't allow this! This is madness!" Arthur struggles to sound calm; fighting the frenzy inside him he can't place where it's come from. It's strange, normally he shouldn't act like this for a mere servant. Especially not one openly admitting they've used magic. But, there's just … something …
"There is no way that Merlin is a sorcerer."
The King glances at him sternly. "Did you not hear him? He admits it before his King."
In acknowledgment Arthur bows his head. "I did, father. But he saved my life, remember."
"Why then would he fabricate such a story?"
Merlin tries to step forward and say, 'It's not a story; it's true, I'm a warlock!'
But Arthur is there before him. "I am afraid he has got a grave mental disease."
Already large eyes widen even more in disbelief. Maybe he should turn Arthur into a toad right now, Merlin thinks furiously, and then the council would have their proof, he'd show them right then and there that he's a sorcerer. Why is Arthur saying that? Why isn't he staring shocked or condemning him or calling for the guards, or, or …
The King raises an eyebrow, like not really surprised but slightly interested. "Really?"
As further explanation, the Prince adds; "Indeed. He's in love."
Merlin stares at him in utter disbelief. It takes a moment for him to find his voice. There are no guards, no cries of 'traitor' or 'sorcerer' or 'arrest him!', just Arthur acting so utterly bizarre.
"…W-what?"
"With Guinevere, the maidservant," the Prince clarifies and if he weren't so shocked at Arthur's behaviour Merlin would've seen the King's bemused grin and found it terrifying.
He's covering for me! Merlin's mind cries, startled: Why on earth is he covering for me? Why would he …?
He should be relieved, but he can't. If somehow Arthur manages to convince his father that he's innocent then they will return to blaming Gwen and then she'll die and it'll be his fault and now Arthur is trying to stop him.
"No," Merlin chokes. "I'm not - I'm not in love. I'm the sorcerer!"
Arthur gives him a pointed look. A bit like he sometimes does when dragging his servant to the training yard forcing him to wear that old leather armour and placing a dulled sword in his hand, when Merlin always would protest 'I'm not a swordsman, you prat, and will never be despite the number of times you try beating me into one'; then Arthur would say 'Of course not but I need some practice' and send him that look, the look meaning 'listen to me now and stop complaining'.
"No, Merlin," Arthur says firmly. "You're in love with her. I've seen you two often enough, disregarding your duties for a moment together."
And the walks around the table to end up at Merlin's side and the warlock feels the heat radiate from him, standing so close, and the Prince's dark leather coat brushes briefly against his leg.
"No," he protests, again, warily following the Prince's movements with his eyes. "I'm not."
He's barely time to react when Arthur leans in and puts his arm around his shoulders and then, when he does, he can't pull away and everyone's staring and Arthur smells like musky smoke and freshly cut grass. The man's form presses against his side. For a moment he fears Arthur will notice it; that his body has shapes it shouldn't have beneath the loose-fitting tunic.
With his free hand, the Prince makes a sweeping gesture over the table and quirks a grin:
"It's all right. You can admit it."
Arthur's hand on his shoulder is distracting. It takes a moment for the words to form and leave his throat. "I, I don't even think of her like that…!"
You dollophead, what are you doing? he wants to scream; Stop hindering me! I'm going to save her!
"Perhaps she cast a spell on the boy," the King says and Arthur casts a somewhat worried look at his father: being the victim of magic might not always give one leniency, no, it might be condemning as well. But then he sees his father's smile, and the council soon joins in chuckling and the air feels slightly less tense.
While speaking, he lets his gaze wander and his glare pins Merlin down like nailing him to the floor; the warlock stares back like a startled hare. "Merlin is a wonder, but the true wonder is that he's such an idiot. There's no way he's a sorcerer."
Uther waves a hand and Arthur realizes he still got an arm around his servant - he shouldn't have needed to hold him this long, in fact, he shouldn't have needed to touch him at all and abruptly he lets go, causing Merlin to stumble slightly like losing a point of balance.
"Don't waste my time again," the King orders sternly. "Let him go."
()()()
"Arthur is the idiot," Merlin grumbles when his mentor, who is aghast at hearing what's happened, drags him back to his chambers.
"You should be thankful he did what he did. He saved you from your own stupidity."
"But they would set Gwen free! Don't you understand, if they'd arrested me –"
"- then," Gaius says, almost gently and very calmly, even though there's a storm in his eyes. He's still not forgiven him. "Then, Camelot would have lost you as well, Merlin, and no one would win anything. Gwen might not be set free, you might burn alongside one another. And I would lose you in the battle against this disease; I cannot let that happen."
"What do you mean?" the warlock asks. "Surely you can-"
"There's powerful magic at work here and I am flattered you think so highly of me, but this is far beyond my skills. I have found nothing. No solutions. Don't you see, Merlin? Jumping into the flames for her would not save her life in the end, only finding a cure will, for if we don't then the whole of Camelot will perish. We need an answer as to what is causing the poisoning of the water and how to solve it, and you, I believe, can provide it."
"With my magic," Merlin concludes, not heartened and worries his lower lip. But. Gwen, down in the dungeon, chained and crying. And Arthur firmly saying, Merlin can't possibly have magic and holding him prisoner with his gaze. If he finds the source of the dark magic, if he somehow eliminates it and cure the ill people – would that prove Gwen's innocence? Surely if the sickness disappears, the King and his men will think that she's not guilty and let her go?
"All right," he sighs at last and Gaius hefts his old worn bag of medical supplies, turning toward the door.
"The best place to start should be the water supply."
()()()
Down below the city it's dark and dank and quiet. It reminds of him of the dragon's cave.
"Take a sample," Gaius says and stands back while Merlin kneels by the edge of the water reservoir. The dripping of water is eerie in the echoing silence.
"Will that tell you what the disease is?" he asks his mentor.
"Perhaps. Mostly it might show the exact effects of the disease. Knowing the disease might help us stop it."
There's a noise, suddenly, the whooshing of water and something moves in the corner of his vision. Merlin recoils violently almost dropping the newly-filled glass vial. The shadow moves again, appearing straight in front of them just a few feet away from Merlin's face. It's there just a short while, too short to make out any details, but it lifts two arm-like limbs armed and roars before crashing back down into the water.
The silence is defeating until the warlock manages to move his tongue, still shaking with the shock:
"What the hell was that?"
()()()
The book lands on the table with a thud and Gaius points at the open page: "Here, this was it. What we saw in the water was an afanc."
"A what?" Merlin asks, not recognizing the word.
"An afanc - a beast born of clay, conjured only by the most powerful of magic wielders."
"So that's causing the disease?" His mentor nods. "We have to destroy it! That has to be possible. It is - isn't it?" He glances worriedly at the physician.
"There might be answers in the old manuscripts, but I cannot recall ever reading of this beast before." His eyes sweep over the shelves; the heavy volumes from decades past, thousands of pages if not more.
Dread settles in at the bottom of his stomach. "But that might take days or weeks and by then, Gwen will be …" He can't say the words.
"Do you have any better ideas?"
Merlin bites his lip. Maybe, if I try convincing it … but, it's always speaking in riddles, it'll never give me clear answers. He glances at his mentor's upset face. But I have to try.
()()()
"And so the great warlock returns, as I knew he would."
Can it foresee the future? Merlin wonders. Maybe it can. It's the only logical explanation. Despite constantly hiding its words in riddles, it has spoken of things that have come to pass. It's frightening almost to think of and he refocuses on the matter at hand; counseling his magic book had given no answers.
"I need to know how to defeat an Afanc."
"Yes, I suppose you do," the dragon says.
"Will you help me?"
"Trust the elements that are at your command."
"Elements? But what is it I have to do?"
"You cannot do this alone. You are but one side of a coin. Arthur is the other."
Arthur? Does the dragon want him to fight the afanc alongside Arthur? But, he's useless with a sword or any other man-made weapon really, that would only mean he'd have to use magic. Use magic alongside Arthur, right in front of the Prince's eyes ...
No, the dragon can't mean that. Not yet. It's too early. Arthur can't know! He'd have him beheaded for sure!
"I - I don't understand," he stammers, and the dragon smirks.
"I think you do."
Apparently the dragon thinks it's already supplied enough of an answer, because its claws dig into the earth and then it takes a leap.
"No, wait!" Merlin rushes out to the ledge, waving the torch. "Please, you've got to help me! Tell me what to do!"
"I already have, young warlock." The dragon laughs, deep chuckles of amusement that only darkens the cave, and then it's out of sight ignoring Merlin's furious shouting.
Why is it always so bloody vague?!
()()()
When coming back to his chamber Merlin doesn't hesitate, pulling out his magic book and starting to eye through it in desperation, and trying to answer Gaius' bombardment of questions simultaneously. "I need something on elements, a book, anything," he explains, vaguely avoiding the questions of why.
"Elements?" Gaius asks. "The four base elements is the very foundation of science. Fire, earth, wind and water. How did you figure this out?"
"Uh, it's part of my powers."
"What else do you powers tell you?"
"That, err, I'm one side of a coin," Merlin says and judging by the way his mentor looks at him this lie is balancing at the edge of what's plausible and what's insane. "The brighter side obviously. And Arthur is the other."
"Arthur?"
Just that moment the door opens loudly, and the warlock gapes when the lady Morgana walks in – he's not actually seen her since the feast several weeks ago, unless you count the brief times he's spotted her and Gwen in the courtyard or other places of the castle, or even once at the town market. Now, distress mars her face.
"Gaius, they're bringing forward the execution. We have to prove Gwen's innocence!"
"Milady, please believe that we are trying."
"I believe you," she says with conviction, "but please, just tell me if there's anything I can do to help."
Merlin exchanges a look with his guardian, and Gaius briefly nods in accord.
"We need Arthur," Merlin says. Morgana doesn't seem upset at all that he completely forgets about proper manners and addressing her correctly. Instead she looks rather astonished at the mention of the King's son. "There's a monster," he continues to explain. "An afanc down in the reservoir, that's been poisoning the water."
"We must tell Uther, then," the lady says and Merlin's stomach twists: would the King allow his son to fight the monster with only a servant beside him?
"The Afanc is a creature forged by magic," Gaius intervenes. "Telling Uther wouldn't save Gwen; he would simply blame her for conjuring it, no matter it demands a very powerful sorcerer indeed to make such a creature, more magic than the girl could ever possess."
Immediately her demeanor changes. "What do you need me to do?"
"If we kill it then the curse will lift and no one more should get sick. We need Arthur's help to defeat it. He's our best chance, but he wouldn't want to disobey the King …"
Merlin catches a slight smirk starting to form in the corners of the lady's mouth, and thinks that that is an expression anyone should fear, for their own sake; not only is she stunning, the lady is strong-willed as well. "Leave it to me."
()()()
Arthur doesn't even look up when she enters the room; he recognizes the click of her footsteps well enough. "You all right?"
He knew that Morgana and her maidservant had always been rather close. Certainly much closer than Arthur had ever been to any of his manservants. Then again, they were women, and such friendships were not as rare as they were within the world of men, it simply wasn't proper. Though it wasn't spoken of too loudly either; it was the best if Uther never found out just how dearly Morgana treasured her maidservant.
This accusation and dooming of Guinevere must be a hard blow for Morgana. She'd already protested loudly, more than once, against the King's sentence.
"Sorry about the mess," he adds, gesturing at the room which is indeed a mess. The bed hasn't been made, the trays from breakfast haven't been taken back to the kitchen, and he's carelessly thrown his outer coat onto the back of a chair instead of putting it in the wardrobe. Despite his manservant's absence he's not asked for a replacement, even if temporary, because despite being busy aiding Gaius Merlin would sometimes come by to do a small chore, just some general tidying up of the room. But not today. Not since the announcement of Guinevere's arrest. "Merlin's not been in today."
"Poor Merlin," Morgana says, stepping further into the room.
"Yeah," Arthur says shortly and moves away from the fireplace, into which he's been staring emptily.
During the last few days he has felt … restless, finding little to do. In the face of this threat, this illness, there's nothing he can do. No sword can counter it. The council meetings he's been forced to attend have been dire and stressful. Training with the knights hadn't helped him get rid of this feeling. He's also sensed his knights' uneasiness: they have loved ones they are worried for and a few had family members who have already fallen victims to the illness.
The feeling doesn't lift when he finds out that Edward, a young but aspirating squire, recently has fallen ill as well and now is resting in Gaius' quarters. But there's nothing to be done for him or any other victims. Nothing. This helplessness that has crept up and gripped the whole city is now slowly eating him away and he absolutely loathes it - not being able to take action. Not being able to do something.
"To offer his to give up his life to save Gwen …" Morgana continues airily. "I certainly cannot imagine any man loving me so much."
"No, I certainly cannot imagine that either," the Prince replies without pausing to think and his step-sister smirks, knowing him far too well.
"That's because you're not like him. Merlin is a lover."
Something in Arthur's stomach twists. "Maybe that's because I haven't found the right person to love."
The lady goes on, casually almost, but her gaze tells him all; "Sadly the age of gallantry seems to be dead. You look around and all you see are small men, not big enough to full their armour. There's not one of them that's able to stand up for what is right."
The Prince sets his jaw, and reaches for his sword before she's even finished speaking. "What needs to be done?"
()()()
Merlin is both astounded and relieved to see the Prince marching across the courtyard with intent in each step, closely followed by lady Morgana, who looks both smugly pleased and, to the trained eye, apprehensive. The warlock holds tightly onto the keys to the water reservoir which the physician has given him.
When coming up Arthur glances at him and Merlin looks back; a quiet exchange without words. He's still learning to read and know the Prince so he's not certain if he's still angry at him (or even if he was truly angry before or simply just annoyed at his manservant's interruption of the council meeting and announcing he's a sorcerer) - but there are no reprimands.
Without word the Prince takes up the lead and only speaks once they've entered the sloping corridor down to the water supply, torch in hand.
"You should stay here," he says, directing the words to the King's ward. "The afanc is a dangerous creature. Father will slam us both in chains if he knew I'd endangered you."
"I'm coming, no arguments. Or are you scared I'll show you up?" Morgana answers and smirks, and stalks past him head held high, proudly like a ferocious cat. Right before she's got her back to him, Merlin thinks he flashes the glimpse of steel in her hand, and somehow he's not even surprised. If lady Morgana had been born male, she'd undoubtedly been a warrior, a knight.
But when thinking that, he can't help but think of himself and his strange body and how it'd be if it wasn't like this, half-way woman half-way man. If he'd not been born like this, if he'd been born normal, would he still act like he does now? Would he recognize himself? Or would he be someone else entirely?
The possibility makes him feel uncomfortable, out of his skin, and he forces the thought away for now.
Merlin is somewhat taken aback when Arthur turns toward him instead of following Morgana and stopping her, dragging her out of the cave. No, he lets her be (as if knowing trying to tame her would only result in major wounds on his part). "You should stay here –"
"What?" he exclaims. "No, I'm coming with you!"
"You're just a servant, Merlin, you're useless with a sword. In fact you don't even have one and you'll only be in the way, even more than Morgana."
"I'm coming with you. Whether you like it or not," Merlin says stubbornly. I need to be with you, you prat, otherwise you'll never defeat the afanc! he wants to say but doesn't because Arthur would never believe something so ridiculous.
"Fine, then. But if you get killed because of this foolish decision of yours, I am not taking responsibility," the Prince says, eventually, and stiffly turns his back to him to follow Morgana downwards. But he lets the servant come. Maybe he thinks Merlin will cower at the sight of the beast and run away or something. If only he could tell him about his magic without getting beheaded – and still be taken seriously – then he'd show the prat!
"You better be right about the afanc," Arthur adds over his shoulder; "if there isn't one, I'm sending you to the stocks without ado. Understood?"
"Yes, sire," Merlin replies, exhaling. "I'll be looking forward to it."
()()()
They descend.
A growl echo in the darkness, followed by silence.
"… Damn it, you were right," Arthur mutters and glances at Merlin but the servant is too worried about how to actually kill the monster and about Gwen who still hasn't been set free, to smile in smugness and call the Prince a prat.
"I just we hope find it before it finds us," Merlin murmurs quietly.
A crossroad is before them; it's a maze down here, a reason why it's so dangerous, why Arthur would feel more comfortable with Morgana and Merlin up on the surface while he battles the afanc … whatever kind of monster it is. There's a reason he's not called upon his father or his knights yet: were they to hear of this, especially the King, their blame on Guinevere would only be reinforced. They would only think she conjured the beast, while both Morgana and Merlin so adamantly claim she's innocent.
If those two just knew their place! Then they'd have avoided this mess. And the pyre would burn by this evening, he reminds himself, and grips his sword tighter. This is not the time to reflect on propriety.
Merlin's voice is very close, without him realizing how the servant got there. "It's on the left!"
Something flickers in the corner of his eye.
Then, Morgana screams.
Another deep, inhuman growl vibrates through the dark and the torch in Arthur's hand flickers. The beast materializes out of the shadows, leaping forward; the lady stumbles back, and Merlin in another direction, pressed up against a wall.
It's a hideous thing, with muddy, dripping skin almost like it's constantly melting and re-forming, yet still a distinguishable physical shape. It's twice the size of a man, perhaps larger even with its back hunched. The Prince stays firmly rooted to the ground and draws his sword, swinging it at the beast to no avail. It's quick, avoiding him.
It starts moving toward the right entrance, which leads straight to the main body of water. He can't let it go there and disappear now when it's so close. Refueled by determination Arthur lunges forward, letting forth a battle-cry.
()()()
Elements. That's what the dragon had said wasn't it? Clay … Earth and water.
Two of the four elements.
Trust the elements that are at your command.
When he realizes, the beast right in front of them it's almost laughable how simple the riddle's been. To counter two of the four elements, he must use the other two!
Fire - and wind.
The door behind them is closed, there's nowhere from which air can flow on its own, and it means he has to use magic but it'll save Camelot, and Gwen will be freed, even if he has to use it right in front of Morgana and the Prince.
Power rises within him without effort, and gold reaches his irises.
"Arthur!" he shouts. "Use the torch!"
Suddenly, Merlin's rushing forward and screaming, and Arthur nearly yells at him for being such an utter fool; the beast is turning around now searching for the source of the noise.
A cold gust of wind ripples between the stone walls and clashes with the fire burning steady on the torch, making it grow rapidly and envelop the afanc. The creature lets out a terrible screech as the flames swallows it, and then it begins to melt for real. Within seconds, there's but a tiny pile of ashen dirt that quickly disperses in the fading wind, before settling in the old corners of the cave.
For a moment Merlin stands there staring at what he's done, partly proud at the achievement and partly petrified. Because Arthur is staring at the same spot where the flames had just been, breathing heavily, sword still brandished. For a long moment Merlin doesn't dare to move or breathe, just staring at the man hoping, hoping the magic has gone unnoticed and that the Prince won't turn to him suspiciously.
"… That's the weirdest sort of luck I've had so far," the man mutters. "Where did that wind come from anyway?"
Morgana regains her speech and Merlin manages to breathe again; having to make a cover-up lie right now would cause the Prince to see right through him for sure.
"Maybe the door was opened by it and it carried down here," says the lady, oblivious to what really has just occurred, and Arthur agrees with a nod and they do not speak of it any more. Merlin unlatches himself from the wall and together, they start making their way out of the cave system.
What's left now is to tell the King and wait, and hope for the disease to fade.
()()()
It does.
Uther is furious. At least, that's what Merlin thinks he is, when he flashes the man's face as he orders to have a private word with Arthur and Morgana, and Merlin is forced to back out of the hall along with all other servants.
Gaius, after another berating round, pulls him into a hug, and Merlin squirms just the first few seconds but the old man doesn't seem to notice anything amiss. Then he can relax and bask in the pride the defeat of the afanc has given him. Once he's let go, Gaius holds him at arm's length and says, sternly, "I am very proud of you, Merlin. But please, do not do anything this rash again."
"I'll try."
()()()
A few hours later, it is announced that Gwen has been found not guilty - albeit Gaius is vague on the details on how exactly he managed to persuade the King that she didn't conjure the afanc - and she is let out of the dungeons. Merlin, along with her father Tom, is there to greet her. For some reason lady Morgana is there as well and she stands out like a sore thumb down in the dark dungeons, with her fine dress and fair skin; the guards give her wide berth.
Gwen seems to be in a daze.
"Oh, my child," the smith breathes as he embraces his daughter firmly.
"Thank you, thank you." Gwen sounds breathless and courtesies to Morgana, and her father bows to the lady as well in endless gratitude; but the lady has a strange expression on her face as she stops the maid, shaking her head.
"No, do not thank me. It is Merlin who should be thanked. He is the real hero here."
Merlin's jaw drops. Did lady Morgana just…?
Then he finds himself caught by Gwen's arms and his train of thought is interrupted – she's surprisingly strong, perhaps because she's a smith's daughter – and the girl is speaking rapidly, thanking him over and over. After a moment, she unwraps him, embarrassed and a bit awkward, as if aware of the lady and her father and all of the guards looking at them. "Oh, I just – sorry," she mutters, "I…Thank you, Merlin."
"It's all right," Merlin smiles, "I'm glad to help."
Tom shakes his hand, and compared to his grip Gwen's hug was nothing. "You saved my daughter's life - I am eternally grateful."
()()()
He doesn't see Arthur until next day when bringing him breakfast. The man is rather quiet. Whatever discussion he's had with his father, it had not gone very well.
"…Is he very angry?" Merlin asks carefully. He'd foreseen this would happen and therefore decided to bring honeyed bread; usually he won't bring Arthur such a treat, the prat is so spoiled he cannot deserve it, but now he needs to be cheered up or he'll take out his frustration on the knights on training later today.
Most of the time, Arthur never speaks of personal things like these, so Merlin is pleasantly surprised when the Prince opens up right away.
"It's about Morgana," Arthur admits and grimaces. "I should never have let here come with me, put her in that danger. Of course he's furious with me!" Then he deflates somewhat. "He's … disappointed that I did not consider her safety more. Or my own, for that part; he wishes I had alerted the guards, and more importantly, him, before going down to face the afanc."
"But you did it for good cause," Merlin points out while handing the Prince the bread. "The disease is gone and Gwen's free."
The Prince sends him an odd look, brows still furrowed, and Merlin finds it difficult to tell what exactly is bothering Arthur about that statement. The man open his mouth to speak, then pauses; whatever retort that was on his tongue melts away and he grunts something about boots needing polishing and proceeds to throw one of said offending items at the servant's head.
Merlin grins anyway. He'll make Arthur realize yet that he can be a great Prince without having to be a prat.
()()()