Cured
By TheAlmightySun
Chapter six
_____
"Gwen? What's wrong?"
She stood motionlessly at the door, her face frozen and pale.
Arthur got up from the bed, his chest bare. Gwen took a few weak steps inside, and her face was flooded by the fire's light. She stared at him, playing with her fingers.
"I- it's Merlin," She muttered. Arthur looked out at the moon. It was late evening. "I've gone to tell him- I-" She trailed off, mystified, and then straightened her gaze to his, suddenly fierce. "Those people in the dungeons." Arthur returned her intense gaze, perplexed. "What's wrong with them?"
"Gwen, what are you talking about?"
"Why are they so…" She broke off, moving her hands expressively. "…Unsettled?"
"I… they're sorcerers," Arthur said elusively, moving to take a shirt from the closet. "What's going on?"
She stared at him, biting her lower lip.
"Gwen, if you don't tell me I'll just go down there myself."
"I don't know," she said at last, lowering her gaze. "It's… I mean, Merlin… he's…"
She stopped, raising her gaze to Arthur helplessly.
Arthur looked searchingly into her anxious eyes, and then sighed dramatically. "Alright already," he muttered, pulling on a pair of shoes. "Come-on."
She followed him down the hall, their steps loud on the stone floor. "When's Gaius coming back?" He asked, trying to lighten her tight mood.
"He should be delayed," Gwen said. "There's a terrible storm up north."
Arthur hummed, nodding at the guards as they left the castle. They strode through the strangely quite court, deserted under the moon's thin glow. It was cold, and dark, so much so that Arthur had to pause at the beginning of the street in search of Gaius's quarters.
He followed Gwen, who did not stop.
"Why's the door locked?" He asked once they've arrived, pushing at the handle.
"I don't know. It's never locked."
"So how did you-"
"I came in through the back door."
"Right. Where is it?" Arthur's began to frown as Gwen moved toward the overthrown trashcans behind the lodging.
"Are you coming, Sire?" She asked, making her way through the rooting, frozen food spilling onto the ground, gathering her skirts.
"Yeah," he sighed. "'Course I am."
The door creaked as they came in. Gwen led forward, lighting a candle she had hidden in her gown's pocket.
"Why isn't the fire on?" Arthur asked, going toward the hearth. He picked the coals up in his hand, thinking of his room's warm flame. The coals were icy. Gwen proceeded to light the other candles around the room, trying not to look at the rest of the lodgings.
"It's freezing," She muttered, as the room emerged out of the shadows. Arthur looked around, his scowl growing deeper. Gaius's studies, notes, and books have always been spread chaotically about, on tables and chairs, under thing and on top of them. The sight of books open one on top of the other, bookmarked by pages full of carefully lined scribbles and complicated diagrams, and strange objects (from the peculiar magnifying glasses to the shelved bottles filled with eccentrically colorful brewing) scattered all around have become a regular expectation.
But it was worse then chaos now. It was turmoil. Things thrown unceremoniously on the floor, papers crunched and torn everywhere. There was broken glass on the ground, and something sticky and red that seemed a little too familiar to the warrior in him for comfort. Arthur leaned to examine it, maneuvering carefully between the fallen furniture. It was blood.
"I see why Gaius doesn't leave often," He muttered, rising to his feet.
Gwen wasn't listening.
"He's here."
Arthur moved his gaze away from the bedlam, following Gwen's candle into Merlin's room. There was an odd, stuffy smell inside, and Gwen reached over to open the windows. Arthur took the candle from her, lighting the other, unlit candlesticks on the window ledge.
"Merlin?"
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
Merlin?
Dark. So dark. Like a growing wound deep under his skin, growing, tearing at his flesh and consuming everything around. An expanding hole in his chest, sucking out the air from his lungs and the blood from his veins, so that he could think of nothing but what was no longer there.
He's lost something. Yes? Yes. Something important. Something… crucial.
It was gone.
It was lost.
And now he was empty inside. So empty. So cold and shallow and vacant. It has always been there and now it was gone and he didn't… he didn't know… what…
Merlin.
What was it? Where was it? Who took it? Why?
Merlin, what's wrong?
How could they take it? How could they take it when it wasn't theirs to take?
Merlin!
Black. Pitch black within him, the lack of whatever used to be there driving him mad. The void inside him was growing, devouring his flesh, draining his blood, annihilating his very soul. Every painful gulp of air was hollow and poisonous, and he couldn't breath, or think, or anything. …Where was it?
Merlin…?
Where is it?
"Merlin!"
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
His dark haired servant was on the bed, staring straight.
"Come on, Merlin. What's wrong?" Arthur asked, exasperated, coming toward the bed, flooding Merlin's face with the candle's light.
Arthur froze.
"You see?" Gwen muttered. "It's… Arthur? What is it?"
Merlin was just like the others, only, somehow, worse. Arthur moved the candle over his friend's pale, downcast face, noting the deep dark circles under his eyes. He was staring blindly just beyond Arthur, his once jovial blue eyes darker, filled with loss.
"Merlin, what are you…" He got on his knees, looking searchingly for whatever was wrong. "Hold this," he told Gwen, handing her the candle. "Now, Merlin, I need you to-"
Suddenly, Merlin's eyes focused, staring fixatedly into Arthur's.
Arthur pulled back, staggered. Merlin gazed at him for a second more, then turned his eyes to the left, concentrating on the dirty boot leaning lonely on the far wall.
"Wait," Arthur said, leaning forward again. "Hey! Look at me," he stared at Merlin's forlorn, absent face, trying to will his friend back from where ever it was he'd gone. Merlin wouldn't meet his gaze, staring at some random creek in the crumpled blanket, and then at the left corner of the desk. Gwen was quivering behind him, unnerved and freezing.
"How long has he been like this?" Arthur asked, thinking fast. All the sorcerers had gotten sick days ago. And they weren't like this- they muttered, and searched, and shook with pain and fear. But the mess- as if someone had looked through everything in a desperate struggle to locate something that had been lost…
But Merlin wasn't a sorcerer.
That was ridiculous.
"He was fine two days ago," Gwen said, coming closer. "Arthur…"
"Hmm?"
"They've been rumors of a… some sort of… potion being poured into the water well."
Arthur glanced at her guiltily.
"Yeah," he said. "My father is trying out new ways to get rid of sorcery."
"And those are the sick people-"
"Yes."
Gwen nodded, and sat on the bed by Merlin's side. He glanced at her momentarily, and then turned his gaze to the floor. Arthur could hear the strain in every breath he took. Merlin's hands were clutched around his chest, and from the left blood drizzled onto the blanket.
"We have to warn everyone," Gwen muttered. Arthur turned his eyes from Merlin's dark face to her decisive one.
"What?"
"If there's poison in the water, people have to know," She said vehemently, giving him an almost angry glare. "You can't condemn the entire city to death. Or, well, this." She said, pointing at Merlin. Arthur gaped at her.
"But… the cure is meant only for sorcerers."
"I think it's clear that it has somehow become damaging to all people, regardless of their magic," Gwen said, rolling her eyes. Arthur looked at Merlin with new eyes. Of course. The cure had been damaged somehow. Maybe this was Amaroe's plan from the start. He did seem too jovial when his poison was poured into the well…
"We must tell my father," He said, getting up. "Gwen… stay here, alright? Watch him until Gaius returns. When is that, by the way?"
"A few days, I hope," she said, standing up as well. Arthur nodded, turning to the door.
"Sire!"
He turned. She stood, candle in hand, and breathed.
"Don't… I mean, there's no need to use Merlin's name."
He nodded, and left, out into the cold night.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
"For the first time, my city is magic free," Uther said, staring out the window at the starry sky above.
"Yes, my lord," Amaroe muttered, grinning. "There shall be no more evil sorcery in the streets of Camelot."
"We could send those we've caught to-"
"I've been hoping, sire, to take them with me on my return to the mountains?"
Uther turned to the man, eyebrows raised. "Whatever for?"
Amaroe cleared his throat. "I have some studies I wish to conduct. Regarding the cure. Before I can create more for other kingdoms."
"Of course, of course," Uther said, chuckling. "It will be no problem. When do you leave?"
"A day or two, sire. I doubt any other sorcerers would turn up at this point."
"Certainly they've all been affected by now," Uther agreed. "Everyone drinks after so many days."
"I've told you, sire- the most powerful become affected much later then the rest. But it has been over a week."
"I see," Uther said, nodding. "Well, you are of course welcome to stay for my son's birthday, if you like."
"I don't think so, sire," Amaroe reclined politely. "I'm not a man for company. I rather my solitude with my patients."
"Of course," Uther smiled, and came over to Amaroe, placing his hands on the man's shoulders. "You have done me a great deed, Amaroe," He said, and Amaroe's smile grew. "I will never forget it. Anything you wish for, is yours. Anything you ask will be given to-"
"Father!"
Arthur rushed through the doors in a run.
"You're making a habit of bursting in, son," Uther chuckled, moving toward his throne. "What might be the problem?"
Arthur stopped, breathless, next to Amaroe.
"The cure, father. It's… changed."
Uther raised in his chair, frowning. " 'Changed'?"
Amaroe glanced at Arthur suspiciously.
"Yes," the prince said, nodding. "It's affected a civilian. One that is not a sorcerer."
There was silence in the hall. The guards stationed at the doors glanced at each other, confused.
"Leave," Uther told them, and they did. The king turned to Amaroe. "What say you to this?"
"It's ludicrous, my lord," the man said certainly. "I've tested my formulas time and time again. There has never been anyone affected by them that did not practice magical craft."
"Well, you must have made a mistake, then, " Arthur said, growing angry. "I'm telling you, father, there is no way this man had ever used sorcery. I know him. But he's worse off then the others- we must warn the town people. We must confine the use to the well, and find another source for water, before-"
"Confine the well?" Uther demanded, protesting. "With the royal courts of all our neighbors visiting! Have you gone mad, Arthur?"
"They'd rather be thirsty then ill, father!"
Amaroe cut into the conversation, suddenly curious. "You said the symptoms were worse," He said to Arthur, who glared at him, disbelieving of his pointless questions. "How much worse?"
"Worse," The prince told him, vexed. "He's staring at the wall."
"I see."
"And who might this man be?" Uther asked, his voice thundering in the empty hall.
"Does it matter?" Arthur demanded. "Forget the man. I'll find a way to help him later. But the people of Camelot need to be warned. They have to-"
"There is nothing wrong with my formulas, sire," Amaroe told Uther, disregarding Arthur's words. "I think your son is mistaken. His friend is either sick with some other illness, or a very, very powerful wizard."
"He's not a wizard. And he's not sick! And even if he were, we'd still have to warn the people," Arthur called, looking at his father unfalteringly. "They are frightened. They don't know if this illness is going to spread or not. They've seen the sick sorcerers stumbling, lost in the streets. We have to tell them what's going on. And we have to stop pouring the cure to the wells. Before something goes wrong."
"I think guarding the people from sorcery is a little more important then guarding them from harmless water that can do them no harm," Amaroe said. Uther nodded his agreement.
"The sorcerers will be taken away, and the panic will subside," He told his son, appeasing. "And if ever more show up, they will be cured by the water."
"It's not a cure!" Arthur yelled, and Uther leaned back, his pacifying face turning serious and annoyed. "It's… it is poison! It's better to kill them then damn them to such a hellish existence. Some of them aren't even real sorcerers. They're healers. People who have done nothing wrong."
"Practicing sorcery is wrong," Uther said, threateningly. "Any form of magic is evil, and a person who uses it is turned evil by it. Both you and Morgana have expressed your feelings to me, and asked many a time for me to find a way not to kill them, and I did. What is it that you want?"
"But what about that infant?" Arthur demanded, trying vainly to control his anger. "She was- what, two? How can you believe a baby is an evil sorcerer?"
"If she possessed magic, she was evil," Amaroe said. "And she did possess it, otherwise she wouldn't have been affected by my cure."
"And that old man?" Arthur asked, ignoring Amaroe and staring pointedly at his father. "He was a sailor. He's been providing our fish for decades. He'd never even been suspected as a sorcerer. And now he's dead, killed himself- and for what? Your satisfaction that everyone who's… who… do things you don't understand are gone-?!"
"You are young," Amaroe said, as the king sat, speechless. "You weren't around when wizards walked free. It was chaos. So much power in one man corrupts him. They've killed and destroyed village after village. They've killed my entire family."
Finally, Arthur turned to Amaroe. "I thought your family died after the purge."
"Yes."
"So it was after my father began killing them that they stroke back!"
All of a sudden, Amaroe's pale face turned a furious shade of red. "It does not matter when it happened! That craft of sorcery is stained with blood, and it must be erased if we are ever to live peacefully on this-"
"How could we live peacefully knowing we've murdered hundreds- thousands- for being born a certain way?"
"Sorcerers aren't born, fool," Amaroe hissed, his eyes shooting fire. "Each finds his own way to magic. They are greedy and power-hungry. They sell their souls for a little glory and-"
"How can a child sell his soul?!"
"Stop this!" Uther called finally, and the two men paused, Arthur's hand half way to his sword. The king glared at his son, enraged.
"Prince Arthur," he told him, emphasizing the title. "I suggest you return to your chambers and think about your actions tonight. Amaroe is a great scientist who's done wonders for Camelot. And sorcerers- have you ever met a good sorcerer? No," he answered, before Arthur could. The prince kept his mouth shut, fuming. "I do not want to hear about this again. If you need to be reminded about the evil of magic, go by Morgana's chambers. I think that will resolve any issues you've got with my ways." Arthur did not respond, and, after giving Amaroe a look of pure hate, stormed out of the hall heatedly.
The king turned to Amaroe, who stood where he was, seething.
"I apologize for my son's actions," He said, and Amaroe nodded mutely. "He will be punished accordingly."
Amaroe took a big breath. "It's all right, my lord," He said, once again smiling his unnerving smile. "I am not offended. Young men are rush and impulsive. I cannot blame the prince for fearing for his friend."
Uther nodded, and sighed. "Sometimes I wonder what to do with him," he said, more to himself then Amaroe. "Arthur is so often…" He trailed off. Amaroe cleared his throat.
"My lord?"
"Yes, Amaroe?"
The man smiled. "I wish to take a look at your son's friend. If he is ill, and with your physician away, I might be able to assist him."
"Of course," Uther said, smiling with gratitude. "If it won't be too much of a bother."
"Not at all, sire," Amaroe said. "Not at all."
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
Arthur was not heading for his chambers.
Instead, he went to the stables, waking up Orano, who had returned to work there. "Fetch my horse," He said, and the boy, blinking with sleep, nodded. Arthur went over to Gaius's house, still furious.
"Gwen! Open the door," He called loudly, banging on the front entrance. The sound of keys being turned followed, and then the door creaked open, Gwen's worried eyes landing on him. "Sire-?"
Arthur burst in, shuffling through the many objects on the ground. "My father will not listen to reason," He said, trying to control his voice. "He refuses to stop pouring the cure to the well. You have to warn the people yourself, Gwen."
She swallowed, biting her lips. "What about you?"
"I'm leaving," Arthur said. "I need to find Gaius. He's the only one my father would listen to. I can get to Jorks in just over a day on horse back, if he's not already on his way back-"
"My lord," Gwen shushed him, staring behind him to the street. Arthur turned.
"Hello," Amaroe said, smiling at them, two of his own guards at his sides.
"You followed me," Arthur muttered, disbelieving, and studied the two men. They were large, dark skinned, and didn't seem too intelligent based on the blank, glassy look in their eyes. Each had a weapon strapped to his belt.
"I did," Amaroe confirmed, nodding. "I was hoping to take a look at your friend."
Arthur sneered. "I think not," He said, moving to close the door. One of the men leaned forward, pushing at it from the other direction.
"It's not much of a request really," Amaroe said, entering through. Arthur reached for his sword. "I've asked you father, and he said it was fine."
"Arthur," Gwen muttered in his ears, fearful. Arthur followed Amaroe as the man walked through the cluttered room, gazing this way and that. Gwen had started a fire, and the room was alight. Amaroe's man followed him inside, glaring at Arthur threateningly.
"There's nothing for you to see," Arthur called after them, following in a brisk pace. He could not take all three, not without the danger of Gwen getting hurt. "My friend's fine. He's healed."
"Ah, excellent!" Amaroe said happily. "Let me congratulate him then." He was opening the door leading to Merlin's room. Arthur glanced at Gwen, who stared, horrified, as the small man entered.
Merlin was sitting in the far side of the bed, back to the wall. His hands clutched at his head and he moved back and forth in place, his face agonized. Amaroe came closer, touching his forehead with his bony, long fingered hand. Arthur gritted his teeth, but did not move forward.
"My god," Amaroe muttered to himself. Merlin wasn't looking at him. He stared forward, hissing with pain. "I've never seen such a reaction before."
"You were right, then," Arthur told him desperately. "He must be ill with something else."
"No," Amaroe shook his head, his smile growing and growing until it consumed his entire face. "He is a sorcerer. A powerful, powerful sorcerer. What a man could do with such power…" He trailed off, thoughtful. Then he turned to the guards. "Take him."
"Hey!" Arthur's sword was out before the men took one step. "I don't think so."
Amaroe glanced at him, and chuckled. "Oh really, sire?" he asked, staring at Arthur leeringly. "And what would you tell your father? You've killed his favorite scientist over a sorcerer that belongs to me, anyway?"
"Merlin does not belong to anyone," Arthur hissed, taking a step forward. "And he's not a sorcerer. My father would never believe he is."
"Is that so."
"Yes. Now leave, before I-"
"You what?"
Arthur took a calming breath. Gwen rushed over to Merlin's side, trying to get him to stop shaking.
"I'll kill you," Arthur muttered, gazing at Amaroe hatefully. "And if your men harm me after words, or my servants, they'd be executed for threatening the future king."
Amaroe paused, glaring at Arthur.
"Very well, my lord," He said finally, the smile returning to his lips. "Whatever you like."
Arthur did not pull back his sword, staring instead as Amaroe led the way out of the house. When the door was shut behind them, he turned back to Gwen.
"You can't leave," She said immediately. "They'll just come back tomorrow."
"I know," he said, sliding his sword back into the scabbard. "Don't worry. I'll stay."
"But what about your father?" She asked. Merlin's harsh breath filled the silence. "And the water?"
Arthur gazed at Merlin, thinking.
"We'll warn the people tomorrow. Go to the well in the morning and tell them not to drink from it," he said. "Once Amaroe is gone I'll go get Gaius. He'll help."
Gwen nodded, and bit her lower lip. They were both staring at the boy on the bed. His eyes were shut, and he was murmuring nonsense under his breath, head hidden behind his arms.
"What about Merlin?"
Arthur didn't answer, closing his eyes.
"I don't know," he said finally. "We'll think of something."
Once again sorry for the lateness! (I say that a lot, don't I?) There was a huge finale in theater and I was some old lady in black and and... Well, sorry. Probably will happen again.
:-)
Thanks SO much to everyone who reviewed!!! I was astonished at the amount- You should ask my friends, I've been muttering on and on a about it for over a week. You're all the best!!!!!
Now enough with the exclamation marks.
Thoughts?