Chapter 11: Discovered

"This is highly complex magic," Gaius said after reading over Merlin's hastily scribbled notes.

Merlin was surprised his mentor could make sense of the words at all. After returning from the dragon's cave, Merlin had urgently needed an outlet for all the knowledge he had been granted and written everything down in one, slightly manic stream of consciousness.

"We have to try it," he replied, pacing the infirmary, still full of a restless sort of energy. "For Arthur."

"And we will." Gaius put down the piece of parchment and leaned back on the bench. "I can help you prepare the balm you need, but it will have to be you that works the accompanying magic." He paused, then added, "You should be prepared for the possibility that you might fail at casting the counter-curse several times over. You might be powerful, but you're inexperienced. We need to make sure you'll be alone with the Prince for a couple of hours. This is the sort of magic that cannot be rushed. We'll have to knock him out with a strong sleeping draught."

Merlin nodded, then regretted it. His head was still buzzing from what Kilgharrah had done to him. He rubbed a hand against his left temple, trying to ease the headache.

"You should go to bed," Gaius suggested.

Merlin shook his head. "Can't we get started on the balm tonight? It needs to simmer a full day—" He stopped when Gaius held up a hand.

"I don't have all the ingredients and I'm tired, too. Let's rest up. I'll send you out into the woods and to the apothecary in the morning and we can put together the balm tomorrow night." He nodded towards Merlin's room. "Off to bed, my boy, and get some sleep. Physician's orders!"

Merlin was already half-way into his room when he turned on the spot. "Why did you never tell me about my destiny? You knew, didn't you?" He had not meant for the words to come out in such an accusing tone, but his lingering discomfort was setting him on edge.

Gaius sighed. "I didn't know for certain, no. I had an inkling, after you stopped time. A stronger inkling, after I caught you working magic on Prince Arthur. But I didn't know." He fixed Merlin with a look. "I don't know what the dragon told you, Merlin, but you should be cautious. Kilgharrah is old and has his own agenda. I meant what I said to him: Prophecies are fickle things and knowing one's destiny is near impossible."

Merlin frowned. "So you don't believe my powers were given to me for a reason? To help Arthur become a great king, so he can bring magic back to Camelot?"

Gaius swayed a little on the bench as he seemed to consider his next words. "I believe that you are a very special boy with a great gift. And that we're lucky that you are a kind and caring enough person to want to use it for good."

Merlin narrowed his eyes. "There's more to this than that, though, isn't there? You talked about powers I would one day be able to wield. It scared the dragon into agreeing with my bargain. You know something else."

Gaius sighed again and got up from the bench. "One day, and I promise you this, I will sit you down and tell you all that I know. But you are not even of age yet, Merlin, and you already carry a great burden by hiding your magic as well as feeling responsible for Prince Arthur. I don't wish to add to that."

Part of Merlin bristled at being patronised like that. He was no longer a child! Did he not have a right to know these things that a dragon and even his mentor seemed to be aware of? Didn't Gaius remember what happened the last time something was kept from Merlin? But he was too tired to argue with a notoriously stubborn Gaius and besides, he had got what he needed for now: He had finally found a way to help Arthur!

When Merlin walked into Arthur's chambers the next day, the Prince was still in bed, looking morose. A bad day, then.

Morris was crouching next to the nightstand, talking in soothing tones, his eyes warm and compassionate. Arthur actually seemed to be listening to the servant, too, albeit silently. Merlin paused in the archway to the side chamber and smiled in spite of Arthur's state. Morris had always taken excellent care of Arthur. But he had started to actually care about the Prince, too, and the fact that Arthur accepted it – without it being part of some scheme to get at more theriac – made Merlin infinitely happy.

Morris looked up when Merlin came closer. "Here he comes, Your Highness. I'll get your clothes to the laundry now."

He got up from his crouch and nodded at Merlin. He was still wearing the black armband – would be for a while yet, most likely – but he appeared a lot less pale already. Merlin took his place by unceremoniously plopping down on the floor. Arthur looked at him and grimaced lightly. He did not say anything, though.

"Whatever Morris said to you, I probably agree," Merlin told him. "You're sure you don't want to get out of bed?"

Arthur pointedly closed his eyes, mouth set in a tight line, and Merlin's heart squeezed. He could not wait to get that wicked curse out of Arthur!

"You should really give Morris more time off, too," Merlin added as he leaned back against the nightstand. "He's got more responsibilities now, with his siblings all alone. His father died of side sickness years ago and his next eldest sister is just a little younger than me. She has to look after the small ones all the time now, while Morris sleeps in your antechamber every night. He has maybe an hour or two a day to dash into the lower town to check in with them."

Arthur did not reply, eyes still shut, though from experience, Merlin could tell he was listening.

"Remember what Morgana said? She gives Gwen whole afternoons off. Full days, even."

Arthur's eyes remained closed, but his lips twitched upwards when Merlin mentioned Gwen. Encouraged, Merlin launched into an anecdote about how Gwen had managed to get Merlin drunk with a single tankard of homemade mead and had to help him all the way up the stairs to the infirmary where Gaius had promptly chewed Merlin out. When it looked like Arthur would not get out of bed today, no matter how many self-humiliating stories Merlin told him, he made his excuses and went out to gather the ingredients Gaius and he needed.

"You'll need to send Morris away," Gaius said that night as he watched Merlin chop up some meadowsweet stems for the balm. "He can't catch us working magic on the Prince."

Merlin shrugged. "Easy. I'll offer to take the nightshift with Arthur. He'll be grateful for the break, believe me."

Gaius's eyebrow twitched. "If you're sure. Have you put any thought into what we will tell the Prince if the counter-curse works?"

Merlin glanced up at him. "Why would we tell him anything? He'll be glad to wake up and be rid of the pain."

"He might get suspicious," Gaius cautioned. "A year of agony and suddenly, he is better? We should come up with a scientific explanation for his miraculous recovery, in case he starts asking questions."

"Well, it's been over a year since the curse, right?" Merlin mused. "Can't we just tell him the magic has worn off?"

"I would not want to make mention of magic, no," Gaius replied sternly.

Merlin stopped chopping in favour of studying his mentor. "You're scared."

Gaius grimaced and turned away, peering into the cauldron he had prepared. "We are about to work powerful, life-changing magic on the Prince of Camelot. It would be foolish not to worry."

Merlin thought of what Kilgharrah had said about Gaius standing by while hundreds of sorcerers burnt and suddenly found himself with a whole new understanding of his mentor and his cautious approach to magic. "A scientific explanation, then," he agreed gently. "What did you have in mind?"

Gaius's shoulders relaxed. "I think we should start offering the Prince a new medicine. A simple nutritious potion, disguised as a recently discovered pain medication that is believed to be as powerful as theriac, without any of the side effects."

Merlin set down the knife for good and leaned back. "Really? You think a scheme like that is a good idea?"

Gaius looked up from the cauldron. "I think it's necessary," he replied nonchalantly. "A suspicious mind is a cautious one. We don't want the Prince to be that, and catch on that there is more to you or his recovery than meets the eye."

Merlin did not particularly like the idea. It seemed unnecessarily complicated. But if it made Gaius feel safer, he would play along.

The balm was finished by the end of the next day. The following morning, Merlin suggested to Morris that he should take a break from his duties and let Merlin take the night shift. The guilt he felt about deceiving Morris was short-lived, as the servant was quite obviously grateful for the break. Arthur, too, did not seem to find it odd that Merlin wanted to help out again.

"I take it you'll want to sleep by my bed again like a mother hen," he drawled when Merlin told him of the arrangement, but Merlin could tell he was pleased about the idea of having Merlin around.

Sure enough, when Merlin came to take over for Morris, the Prince had already set up the chess set. Merlin got so engrossed in the game that he almost forgot that Gaius was about to show up and got startled by the knock at the door.

When he let his mentor in, they exchanged a meaningful look before Gaius stepped up to the table.

"Your Highness." Gaius greeted the Prince with a slight bow. "How are you feeling this evening?"

"Fine," Arthur said gruffly. Merlin knew he had been itching for some theriac all day, but hopefully that would be a thing of the past sooner rather than later.

Gaius threw Merlin another look, then pulled a glass vial from his robes, filled with a murky brown liquid, and set it down on the table right next to the chess board.

"What's that?" Arthur asked at once, eyeing the potion with some interest.

"This might be the solution we have been looking for, sire," Gaius replied ominously. "You know I have been doing research into replacing theriac for some time."

"Futile research, as I had understood it." Arthur's tone was cautious, but Merlin could tell he was intrigued.

"Until recently, yes. But I have just this week received a letter from a colleague. I reached out to him months ago, but he is practicing his craft in the far-away dessert lands, beyond the sea that the Romans called mare nostrum. His answer was therefore rather slow to arrive."

"I see. And what did this mysterious letter from the orient say?"

Gaius was surprisingly calm in the face of Arthur's scepticism. "It contained a new recipe for a highly potent pain medication. As effective as theriac without any of its more severe side effects. According to my colleague, it can be taken daily for years without causing an addiction or severe discomfort."

Arthur's eyebrows climbed almost all the way to his hairline. "Really? Are you sure?" he exclaimed. He picked up the potion and peered through the glass. "That sounds almost too good to be true."

Merlin had to avert his eyes at Arthur's thinly veiled excitement. He hated that they were lying to him like this, but it was probably for the best. Besides, if everything went as planned, Arthur would be in significantly less pain come tomorrow, so they were not getting his hopes up for nothing.

"I have no reason to believe my colleague is lying, sire," Gaius replied. "He is a master of his craft." Merlin was surprised how smoothly Gaius lied and wondered how much practise his mentor had got over the years by lying to Uther.

"Why haven't we heard of this miracle cure before?" Arthur asked, still studying the vial.

"The heathens outside Albion might worship strange gods, Your Highness, but their medical science is often much more advanced than ours."

Arthur nodded and shook the vial a little. "It's worth a try, I suppose. You want to me to swallow this now? Not during an episode?"

"As it has no notable side effects, I don't see any reason not to take it as a preventive measure. If it works, it might very well keep the muscles from seizing up like they have so far." He gestured at the vial. "The whole bottle, if you please, sire."

Arthur uncorked it and downed the potion without further argument, grimacing at the taste. "This is definitely worse than theriac," he complained.

"I'm sure it'll grow on you, my lord," Gaius replied evenly.

Merlin bit his lip. They had mixed a nutritious potion with a very strong sleeping draught. It probably made for a particularly foul combination.

Arthur was still grimacing, but announced bravely, "If this medicine is as powerful as you say, Gaius, I'll be glad to put up with the taste." He glanced at Merlin. "Pour me some wine, will you, Merlin? I need to cleanse my tongue."

"I will provide you with another dose tomorrow, Your Highness," Gaius said and bowed. "By your leave, sire?"

Arthur waved him off and by the time Merlin had fetched Arthur his wine, the Prince was already yawning.

"You seem beat," Merlin said innocently. "Want me to help you into bed?"

"It's not even dark out," Arthur returned, but when he yawned a couple of times more as they continued their game of chess and his eyes started drooping, he finally agreed to lie down.

He was out cold the moment he hit the pillow and when Merlin stuck his head into the hallway, Gaius was still lingering there, talking casually to one of the guards.

Gaius checked over the Prince for a full minute, shaking him for good measure and even going so far as to slap his face a little before finally agreeing that he was properly out of it and they could get started.

Merlin pulled aside the blanket and pushed up Arthur's nightshirt to get access to the legs, then spread the balm they had prepared all over the end of the left limb. It was supposed to go on the inflicted wound, but this was the closest they could get after the amputation. When Merlin was finished, he put his hands on the knee and thigh. He closed his eyes as he recited the words Kilgharrah had transferred to him: "Ic batiġe pīnunge gǣlende in þys hrǣwe. Cwinc feorhbealu!"

Nothing happened.

Although Gaius had warned him about exactly this, Merlin could not help but despair a little. Not even a hint of magic had flowed upon using the formula! What if he couldn't do this? What if he failed?

"Try again," Gaius told him. "You will get the hang of it eventually."

So Merlin tried again, and again, and again, and again. He did not know how much time had passed until he felt a tendril of warmth rise from deep within his chest. Slowly, sluggishly, it travelled towards his fingers. Encouraged, Merlin kept repeating the words with more fervour, eyes on Arthur's leg, palms pressed against the skin until finally, after what felt like a small eternity, the parts of the skin that had been lathered in the balm started shimmering gold.

"Ic batiġe pīnunge gǣlende in þys hrǣwe. Cwinc feorhbealu!" he repeated again, louder this time and, something shifted.

Suddenly, there was something revolting in the air; a strange stench, no, more of a foul presence, an aura that made Merlin shudder, goosebumps rising all over. He squinted and saw something like dark fog waft from the cut-off end of the leg. Then, as fast as it had come, it vanished. The glow of golden light disappeared and Merlin could feel the flow of his magic cut off abruptly.

Had he done it? He must have!

He had cured Arthur of the curse!

"So–sorcery!"

Merlin jumped, instinctively pulling back his hands. He looked at Arthur's face first, though the Prince was fast asleep. Belatedly, Merlin realised it had not been Arthur's voice he had heard.

"Morris!" Gaius exclaimed next to Merlin, voice strained. "What are you doing here?"

Merlin slowly turned his head around to see the manservant stand in the doorway, staring at them with wide eyes, a bag slung loosely over his shoulder. He had a hand pressed against the side of his mouth and his whole face had gone ashy-white.

For one moment, Merlin's heart stopped completely.

Irrationally, the first thought that jumped at him was that it was impossible for Morris to be in here because they had locked the doors. But Morris was Arthur's manservant and of course, he had a key. He was used to entering quietly, too, always tiptoeing around a testy Arthur. He must have snuck in without noticing.

"You're a—you're a so–so–sorcerer," Morris stammered in that moment, cutting through Merlin's hysterical thoughts, and his eyes were filled with terror the likes of which Merlin had never seen on a man.

"Morris," Merlin called out, voice growing choked and high-pitched. "It's not—I'm not—What you've seen, that was—!"

Morris turned on the spot and ran. Merlin was after him a moment later. The servant was already at the door when Merlin made it into the sitting room. Morris was reaching for the door handle and Merlin did the only thing he could think of – use more magic.

He flung out his hand. "Lūc duru!"

A click, and the door was locked.

Morris uselessly jiggled at the handle a few times, let out a frightened gasp, then turned and pressed his back against the door. His eyes were impossibly wide. When Merlin took a step towards him, hand still raised from the spell, he abruptly slid down the door and sank onto his knees, the bag slipping off his shoulder.

"P–please don't hurt me," he begged, hands clutching at his head as he bend over in fear. "Please!"

Merlin's stomach lurched. "Of course I won't hurt you," he promised weakly.

"Please don't use m–magic on me," Morris pleaded. "I wasn't spying! I only c–came back to get my bag!"

Gaius materialised by Merlin's side. He looked about as pale as Morris, but his voice was eerily calm when he said, "Morris, my boy, take a deep breath. Nobody here is out to harm you."

But Morris whimpered and hid his face behind his arms. "P–please," he begged again. "Please don't kill me!"

Merlin and Gaius exchanged a helpless look, then Merlin approached Morris on shaky legs. He crouched down by the servant's side and reached out a hand, quickly retrieving it when Morris flinched on contact and curled into himself.

Merlin swallowed thickly. Morris was trembling all over and he had no idea what to say to get him to calm down. Gaius came to crouch on the servant's other side, robes pooling around his ankles. "Merlin was not doing anything to hurt or harm, Morris. He was trying to cure Prince Arthur of his pain."

Morris did not reply.

Both Merlin and Gaius fell quiet, letting him be for a moment until Morris finally dared to lower his arms. His eyes were still wide and shining wetly, but he seemed to be catching on to the fact that nobody was about to kill him.

His eyes flickered nervously between Gaius and Merlin, then he whispered, "I don't understand."

When Merlin reached out for Morris again, he winced, but did not flinch away again. "It's true, I have magic," Merlin said and the last word alone was enough to make Morris cringe. "But I only use it to help people. I used it to help Arthur. He was still suffering from that curse the witch put on him when he was attacked. I found a way to get rid of it."

Morris stared at him. "This makes no sense," he replied. "Magic is evil."

Biting his lip, Merlin shook his head.

"Not all magic," Gaius stressed. "Magic can be used for good as much as for wicked purposes. You know Merlin. Did he ever give you reason to believe he wanted to hurt the Prince?"

Morris glanced at Gaius, then back at Merlin. Slowly, he shook his head.

"No," Gaius confirmed. "Because Merlin cares deeply for Prince Arthur, which is why he used his magic to help him. You have no reason to be scared of him."

Morris ran a sleeve over his face. He took a long, shuddering breath, seemingly collecting himself, then stated hoarsely, "But sorcery is illegal in Camelot."

"Sometimes, magic can only be fought with more magic," Gaius explained.

Merlin admired his mentor's continued calmness. His own stomach was twisted in tight knots and his thoughts were starting to swirl. Would Morris tell on them if they let him leave? Would he tell Arthur? The guards? The King?

Would Merlin be burning on the pyre tomorrow?

"You can't tell anyone!" he blurted.

Morris looked at him. Slowly, something other than fear crept onto his features. He ran a hand over his mouth, then narrowed his eyes. "You want me to lie again," he surmised. "Like that time you gave His Highness too much medicine and Gaius made me keep the truth from the King."

"You wouldn't have to lie," Gaius intercepted gently. "All we would ask you to do is keep Merlin's secret."

Morris firmly shook his head. "You can't ask that of me. If the King finds out I've known about a sorcerer and never reported it…" He drew in a shaky breath. "I'll burn."

"And Merlin will burn if you tell on him," Gaius replied firmly. "Do you believe that is fair? Do you want him to die, simply for helping the Prince?"

Morris pressed his mouth into a tight line. Abruptly, he stood, using the door behind him for leverage, snatching up his abandoned bag in the process. "I don't know that he helped him," he stated harshly. "I don't know that any of what you said is true. For all I know, you've just killed the Prince."

"You can go and check," Merlin said, straightening from his crouch as he spoke, and Gaius followed suit. "He's just asleep. We knocked him out so I could work the magic."

"How would I know if he wasn't—wasn't poisoned or cursed?" Morris replied, hugging his bag close in a defensive gesture. "No, I—I want to leave. If you let me go, I won't call the guards just now, but…" He trailed off, but his meaning was clear: Merlin's secret was not safe with him. He was not willing to take that risk.

Merlin was starting to feel well and truly sick.

"We can't keep you here," Gaius replied, still infinitely calm and patient. "You may leave any time. But I would ask that you don't go out of your way to report Merlin."

Morris looked at his feet, arms crossed stubbornly around his bag.

"Morris, please," Merlin said, hearing his own voice crack half-way through.

Morris stayed silent for a long moment, eyes glued to his boots. When he looked up, his face was closed-off. "I need time to think about this," he said, voice curt, and turned towards the door.

He tried the handle, but the door was still locked by Merlin's magic.

"Your key should still work," Merlin told him quietly, unwilling to use a spell right now.

Morris sent him a suspicious look, but he slung his bag over his shoulder, shoved a hand in his pocket to retrieve the key and turned his back on them. With quick, fumbling movements – and more than one look to check if they would attack him after all – he unlocked the door and hurried to slip out, never looking back.

As soon as the door closed with a soft thud, Merlin hid his face in his hands and groaned. They had been so careful and now this!

When he looked up again, Gaius had started pacing. For all the calmness he had radiated so far, he was clearly agitated now. His face was still pale, his lips pressed into a harsh line, his fingers laced behind his back as he seemed to think the situation over.

Merlin did not dare speak up. He would not have known what to say, anyway. He had broken out into a cold sweat and he felt like he would collapse at any minute.

Morris knew. Morris knew Merlin was a sorcerer. This was a disaster!

"You need to leave," Gaius suddenly spoke up. His voice was harsh. "Go and pack your things!"

Merlin stared at him. "You want me to leave Camelot?"

Gaius stopped pacing and sent him a grave look. "Your secret has been discovered. It is only a matter of time until Morris tells the guards. He might be making up his mind to do so right now. Go, get your things, then leave. Walk through the night and stay away from the main road. Use your magic to protect yourself if you must. It makes no difference now."

"Flee? Without you?" Merlin spread his hands in a helpless gesture. "Where would I even go?"

"To Ealdor, of course."

"I can't go back there," Merlin argued at once. "They all know I've got magic after I attacked Kanen. It's why I left in the first place. They don't want me there. They're afraid."

"Then visit your mother to tell her what happened and move on. You must leave Camelot!"

Merlin ran a hand through his hair. "And then what? Hide away forever?" He shook his head. "What about my destiny?"

Gaius took a step forward. "Who cares about the foolish whims of a dragon?" he hissed. "Don't you see, boy? You must leave or you will die!"

But Merlin did not see. He crossed his arms. "And you won't?" he shot back. "The King will burn you, too, if he finds out you knowingly housed a sorcerer for months!"

"I'm too old to flee," Gaius replied, clipped. "And my place is at Camelot. I won't leave my patients."

"And I won't leave you, or Arthur," Merlin retorted. "Not now when he has a real chance of getting better! Not if I can help him become the King he is destined to be!"

Gaius's face flushed an angry red. "You won't be helping him do much of anything if you are nothing but soot and ashes, you idiot boy!"

A calm, unyielding determination settled over Merlin. "No. I'm staying." Gaius raised his hand, perhaps to grab Merlin's shoulder and shake him, but Merlin took a quick step back and shook his head again. "No, Gaius! You're not going to convince me otherwise! My place is by Arthur's side."

"If Morris tells on you—"

"If he tells on me," Merlin replied, "I can still use my magic to escape the dungeons. Until then, I see no reason to abandon Arthur. He needs me. I won't have him think I snuck away like a thief in the night. He'll think I gave up on him and go back to hiding in his chambers!"

Gaius's face was thunderous. "You would so foolishly throw away your life?"

"It's not foolish when it's for Arthur," Merlin retorted. "I'm his friend. And my powers are meant for him, too, I know it. One day, I will convince him that magic is good and he will let it return to Camelot."

Gaius stared at him for a long moment, looking seconds away from a true fit of rage. But then, suddenly, all fight seemed to leave him. He sagged and his face looked terribly old and weary. "So be it."

Merlin took a step forward, softening at his mentor's sudden despair. "I'm sorry, Gaius. But he needs me. I won't leave until there is no other way."

Gaius shook his head and his eyes were sorrowful when he whispered, "I could not bear to see you burn on the pyre. I know you've only been here for a few months, but your mother is dear to me and I—" He inhaled shakily, then added, "I've come to think of you like a son."

Merlin's eyes filled with tears. "Oh Gaius…" He moved forward and Gaius readily opened his arms, pulling Merlin into a crushing hug.

They clung to each other for a long moment. When they parted, Gaius rubbed a trembling hand over his eyes. "You'll be the reason my heart gives out one day," he choked out, but he was smiling, too. "You foolish, foolish boy."

"Thank you for not making me leave," Merlin replied, palming at his own face.

Gaius looked at him sombrely. "I hope I won't come to regret it. We can only hope that Morris will come around."

Merlin did not get any sleep that night. He lay on Morris's pallet next to a deeply slumbering Arthur, alternating between listening for guards storming down the hallway and staring at Arthur's slack face, wondering how the Prince would feel come morning.

Merlin knew he had made a dangerous decision in staying, but leaving Arthur's side was impossible.

Like Gaius had said, he could only hope that Morris would see reason. Maybe if Morris saw that Arthur was improving, he would understand that magic could be a force for good.

And if Merlin could convince Morris that magic was not all evil, well – maybe that meant that he was not foolish for believing that, one day, he could convince Arthur, too.

My Old English skills are... well. I did take a class in Uni, but that's it. Anywho, the spell: Ic batiġe pīnunge gǣlende in þys hrǣwe. Cwinc feorhbealu! = I heal the lingering torment/pain in this body. Vanish evil/mortal curse! (approx.)