Chapter XXXV: Panacea

Uther was in the room.

Well, okay, he wasn't the only one. Gwen and Gaius were there as well, and of course Arthur was passed out on the bed, but Merlin was mostly concerned about the king who would kill him in a heartbeat if he knew how far Merlin had gone to save Arthur's life.

"Swefne," the warlock breathed.

Uther collapsed, his hand falling from Arthur's. Gwen began to fall, but Merlin strode into the room and caught her before she hit the floor. Only Gaius remained awake. The physician stood, lips curving into a frown. "Merlin, what are you—"

"I found a cure."

Gaius's mouth worked soundlessly for a long moment. Then he choked it out. "A cure? For Arthur?"

"Yes," Merlin said.

The physician stared at him, jaw agape. He took in his ward's form, details he'd missed: the smudges of dirt, the scent of smoke, the wild hair. "What in the world have you been doing?"

"Later." Merlin looked to Arthur. "What matters now is that Anhora is in Kilgharrah's old cave with a unicorn, and while I think that I might have mirrored life and death again when I hit Nimueh with a lightning bolt, we'll probably still need the unicorn's healing magic to make sure the venom is completely out of Arthur's system."

Gaius sank into his chair.

Merlin approached Arthur, whispered the incantation which would lift his prince into the air. It wouldn't be easy levitating an invisible body through the crowded corridors, but Merlin could probably manage it if he kept the older man directly above his head. As long as he could feel where Arthur was, he'd be able to complete the transfer. It was a lot less exhausting than pausing time again, that was for sure.

"I have to put you to sleep, too, Gaius," Merlin sighed. "It would look suspicious if they were enchanted and you weren't."

His mentor looked at Arthur, who was floating so that his shoulders touched the top of Merlin's head. "First make him invisible before—"

The door opened.

"—Morgana gets back," Gaius finished. Color drained from his face.

For a long moment, they simply stood (or, in Gaius's case, sat) there, Morgana with her mouth agape, all three with their eyes wide and frightened. Merlin couldn't move, couldn't speak, couldn't even breathe.

Finally, Morgana whispered, "Merlin?"

The warlock swallowed hard, trying to moisten his throat.

Morgana glanced over her shoulder, uncertainty writ large in her face. Then, biting her lip, she stepped into the room, closing the door behind her. "What are you doing?"

Somehow, Merlin managed to speak. "This isn't what it looks like."

"So you're not curing him?"

Now it was Merlin's turn to gawk.

"Because it all makes sense now, why some random spellbinder would take on a wraith to save Arthur of all people. But it wasn't random at all, was it, Merlin. It was you." Something like wonder came over her face. "It's always been you."

"He has never hurt anyone with his gifts," Gaius said. "Please, my lady, you must believe that. Gwen and the king are only sleeping."

The woman started. Apparently she hadn't noticed that anyone else was in the room.

"I'm going to save him," Merlin told her. "I have a unicorn—well, I don't have the unicorn, I'm really only borrowing her—but there's a unicorn in Kilgharrah's cave, and they have powerful healing magic and can nullify the Questing Beast's venom. Probably. It's never actually been tested. But Anhora thinks it will work, especially since I might have already mirrored Arthur back from the point of no return, but maybe that's actually a bad thing because I'm not sure if unicorn magic and accidental, unwilling death will mix well."

Morgana stared at him.

Merlin flushed. "So I'm going to just… er… go do that now."

"Right," the lady said slowly.

Merlin coughed. "But do you mind if I put you to sleep for awhile? It's not permanent, I swear, it's just that it would look kind of suspicious if you and Gaius were awake when Gwen and Uther weren't."

"All right," Morgana said, a bit less slowly than before. "Just let me sit down first." She moved over to a chair, settled herself down.

"Ready?"

"Ready."

"Great. It shouldn't last more than an hour, so you likely won't get nightmares. Swefne."

The spell knocked both Morgana and Gaius out, partly for efficiency and partly because he just knew that Gaius would lecture him about carelessness in their next conversation and would really rather avoid that. Another quick spell rendered Arthur invisible, and he began his descent to Kilgharrah's cave. As always, it was pitifully easy to avoid the guards, who both went chasing after a pair of wandering dice.

Sometimes, Merlin truly wondered how Camelot had ever survived without him.

Then his thoughts turned to something a bit more immediate: the knowledge that Morgana knew. She knew. Uther's ward—hell, she was practically his daughter—she knew he was a warlock. She'd even deduced that he was 'Arthur's' warlock, the one who had risked so much to save him.

And yet, she seemed completely fine with it. With him.

Merlin remembered Ealdor, how she'd promised to help him make Arthur see sense. She'd approved of him helping Mordred, he recalled, and before the disastrous Questing Beast quest, she'd asked Arthur to let Merlin (well, Emrys-Merlin) take care of things rather than risk himself.

He thought of Will and Lancelot then, and he smiled.

He had missed having someone his own age who knew the truth.

Of course, he'd have to convince Gaius that the world wasn't going to end. The poor man would doubtless panic the second he awoke, when Merlin's magic wore off. Hopefully people in magic-induced sleep couldn't get nightmares.

Nightmares. Something about the thought tickled his brain, teased him with a faint hint of its importance. Yet he had no time to pursue that line of questioning, for now he was in Kilgharrah's old cave, walking towards a trio of conjured fireballs.

The choice of illumination surprised him. One would think that after nearly burning to death, Anhora (or Blaise, he wasn't certain who was casting the spell) would be a bit less enthusiastic about open flames. But the flames served their purpose well enough, and he made a beeline to the two older spellbinders.

Blaise was smudged with soot and was wearing a new tunic, as his old one had caught fire while he rescued Anhora. The Keeper of the Unicorns was slightly worse off, his pale robe spotted with blood and ash, his face swelling up where it had impacted the ground. Both men smelled of smoke.

By contrast, the unicorn appeared lovelier than ever. Its coat was molten moonlight; its eyes, the soul of midnight. The flame sparkled along its horn, making it look like a column of rainbow. The creature lowered that gleaming horn, dark eyes downcast in the equine equivalent of a bow. Then it was approaching him—more importantly, approaching Arthur—and Merlin restored the prince's visibility as he lowered him into his arms, absently noting how heavy he was. Clearly he hadn't been comatose long enough to lose weight.

Then the unicorn was there, and every sarcastic thought flew out of Merlin's mind. He turned Arthur ever so slightly, undoing the prince's bandages with a thought and a flicker of gold. The unicorn made a soft whickering sound of approval as it lowered its shining horn onto the exposed wound.

Merlin held his breath.

The wound closed. The unicorn shook itself, mane cascading all down its neck, and nuzzled Arthur's face with its soft nose.

The prince opened his eyes.

Merlin's heart nearly failed him. Morgana was one thing but Arthur? No. Not going to happen.

"Swefne."

Arthur went limp.

"It seems to have worked," Anhora observed.

Merlin's eyes went wide with the realization. He hadn't thought of it during that half-second that Arthur was staring at the unicorn, but Anhora was right. It did seem to have worked.

Which meant that Arthur was cured. Which meant that he was going to live.

Merlin's smile threatened to split his face. "I think you're right," he whispered, eyes bright with glee. "Thank you." He turned to the unicorn. "You too. Hell, you three, Blaise."

"I did nothing," the mildly startled druid pointed out.

"You saved Anhora's life, and talking to you inspired me to contact him," the younger man pointed out. "All three of you—thank you so much. Thank you." If he hadn't been holding Arthur, he would have hugged them.

The two older spellbinders exchanged amused little half-smiles. "We are glad to have helped," Anhora said, Blaise nodding his agreement. "But now I must return my charge to Gedref, and you ought to return our Once and Future King before anyone notices he is missing."

That pulled Merlin up short. "Oh, right," he acknowledged. "But—just—words can't express how much I owe you."

"You and your prince will set our people free," Anhora reminded him. "You owe me no debt for my small part."

"I do, actually, but even if I didn't, I'd still be as grateful as I am now."

Anhora's lips twitched. He beckoned for the unicorn, which obeyed his summons without hesitation. "If that is the case, then you are very welcome… Lord Emrys."

"I'm not a—"

But the Keeper and his charge were gone.

"We can talk tomorrow," Blaise said, laughter dancing in his eyes. He looked tired, though, so Merlin nodded.

"Right. I'll see you then."

Once Arthur was yet again invisible and balanced atop Merlin's head, the warlock made his way back into the castle proper. Though he couldn't have been gone for more than half an hour, the atmosphere had changed dramatically. Before, the halls had been quiet, full of tension and grief. Now there were guards and knights bustling hither and thither, clearly on the verge of panic. It reminded Merlin of a kicked anthill, but much noisier.

"What's going on?" he asked the nearest guardsman, hoping that it wasn't what he thought it was.

"Someone kidnapped Arthur. Do you know—"

"No," Merlin said, standing just a little straighter. He levitated Arthur slightly higher so that the prince's invisible weight wouldn't press down on his hair. "I have no idea where Arthur might be if he's not in his chambers. I've been—I've been scouring the marketplace for exotic herbs that might help him."

But the guard had left after his first syllable, presumably to ask other servants if they'd seen anything suspicious. Perhaps there was hope for the guards yet.

Arthur's room was full of knights scouring every inch of the chamber, led by a tight-jawed Sir Leon. While Merlin could probably put them all to sleep before returning Arthur, there was a huge possibility that he would miss someone or that another person would enter as the spell left his lips.

So, with a soft sigh, he laid his trap.

The fight with Nimueh—not to mention semi-accidentally mirroring life and death again—had drained him, but he still had enough magic for a few simple spells. With that in mind, Merlin retreated to the abandoned barracks in the eastern wing, which had served so well during the afanc's plague. He laid Arthur down upon the old cots and whispered the spell that had become his signature.

By the time Leon arrived, following the plainly magical globe of light to its source, Merlin had donned his Emrys guise. The head knight froze in the threshold, his quickly darting eyes taking in the warlock, the (illusory, but he didn't know that) staff, the sleeping prince. His hand twitched towards his sword.

Merlin raised his hands in a gesture of peace. "He's alive," the warlock assured the knight. "And he'll stay that way."

Leon took a hesitant step into the room, his hand still upon his sword-hilt. Behind him milled a trio of uncertain knights not entirely comfortable with following their commander's lead.

"You're the one who fought the wraith."

Merlin inclined his head. "My name is Emrys."

"Emrys," Leon repeated. "Why are you protecting him?"

There was no need to name the 'him.'

Merlin looked Leon dead in the eye. "Because he is the best hope for peace between our peoples. I want the killings to stop."

One of the knights snorted. "Tell that to your kin, sorcerer," he sneered.

"I have," Merlin retorted coolly. "And if you'd been paying any attention, you would have noticed by now that my kin are helping yours. They're tired of this war too."

"What exactly did you do with Prince Arthur?" Leon interrupted. He'd taken several steps closer over the past few moments and now stood halfway between the door and Arthur's bedside—and Merlin, who stood just past the headboard.

Merlin stepped aside. "Unicorn magic—panacea. It negated the Questing Beast's venom."

Leon was close enough now to see the slight rise and fall of Arthur's chest. His eyes were wide with shock, with disbelief, with something that looked a lot like wonder. "You really did it," he breathed.

The warlock smiled. "Technically that was the unicorn, but I know what you mean."

"Thank you," Leon said, very quietly. Merlin doubted that the other knights even heard.

The warlock's smile widened. "You're welcome."

Time paused. The knights froze in mid-step, their breathing silenced. Only Merlin, dropping the illusion of Emrys, moved.

When time started up again, he was gone.

Morgana waited until Gwen was gone before she slipped into the halls.

The castle was surprisingly quiet, considering that the Crown Prince of Camelot had disappeared (and reappeared) just a few hours before. Morgana had two close run-ins with the guards, but the fortress had enough conveniently placed alcoves for her to slip into whenever she had to. Later on, she'd have to tell Uther about that, but for now, she was simply grateful.

Merlin and Gaius were waiting up for her, their chambers illuminated by a half-dozen candles. The flickering firelight caught Merlin's eyes, made them flash gold—or perhaps that was Morgana's imagination, now that she knew what he was.

"Thank you for not telling," Merlin said softly. He was looking at her sideways, partly inquisitive, mostly hopeful.

"You're welcome," she replied. "But honestly, it was the least that I could do. You saved my friend's life, Merlin, and this isn't even the first time." She frowned. "Just out of curiosity, how many times have you saved him?"

A sheepish grin. "I sort of lost count."

Morgana grinned back. "Why does that not surprise me?"

Gaius cleared his throat. "If we could return to the original topic…?"

Morgana frowned at him. "I'm not going to betray Merlin," she vowed. "He's a good person and good for Camelot and besides, that would be hypocritical since I have magic too."

Merlin sat down hard, his eyes widening to comic proportions. "You—what—I don't—really?"

"Not like yours," Morgana clarified, "but… you know my nightmares?"

"She's a Seer, Merlin," Gaius explained.

The Seer in question whirled on him. "You knew? You knew what I was and didn't tell me?"

Gaius looked old then, so very old and tired. "I didn't want you to live in fear," he explained quietly. "I thought that you would be happier if you thought your dreams were mundane. How long have you known about them?"

"Almost a year," Morgana confessed, "though Gwen and I were suspicious for a long time before that."

"Gwen?" Gaius yelped.

"She has never said a word to anybody, and before you ask, no, I didn't tell her about Merlin. It's not my secret to tell."

The physician sagged with relief. "I'm sorry," he told her. "It's just that Merlin is so very reckless with his secret, and… I have seen what happens to people like him." He shuddered involuntarily. "So have you."

She had. She remembered the reek of burning flesh, scorch marks on the cobblestones. When Gaius put it like that, it was very hard to remain angry with him for keeping his knowledge about her dreams to himself or for remaining paranoid about Merlin.

By this point, the warlock in question had recovered enough of his faculties to form a coherent sentence. "That's how you knew he'd be bitten, isn't it?"

"I dreamed it," Morgana confirmed. "And I've dreamed of other things, Merlin. You."

"Me?"

"You," the lady confirmed. "I didn't know it was you at first, since you were in that disguise of yours, but you've shown up in this recurring dream I've been having for probably more than a year now."

"A recurring dream?" Gaius asked, one eyebrow shooting skywards.

Morgana nodded. "We're standing on a path. It's covered in pits and ruts, and it splits not far from where we're standing. We get a bit closer to the fork every time, and we've talked, but you refuse to give me any coherent answers." Her lips twitched. "Maybe that will change now that I know it's you."

"What lies beyond the fork?" Gaius wanted to know.

"Arthur is on one side, and there's a blond woman on the other. I don't know who she is, but I'm obviously going to choose between her and Arthur at some point, so I imagine we're going to meet soon." She sighed heavily. "I've never met another Seer—well, not that I know about—so I'm not particularly good with interpreting these dreams."

"I bet there'll be lots of Seers at the summit," Merlin said. He was standing now, a brilliant smile lighting up his entire face. "You should come, Morgana. My parents will be there—they're going to get married there—and so will some Vates and a bunch of druids and other magical folk. Maybe your dream lady will make an appearance."

Morgana goggled at him. "There's a secret spellbinder meeting?"

"There will be," Merlin explained. "I don't think it's actually happened in the past, but in just a few weeks, a bunch of us will go to the Isle of the Blessed to discuss how we can end the Purge. You really should come, Morgana, at least for a couple of days. Blaise thinks I'll have the teleportation spell under control then, so I can bring you for a day trip or two." Impossibly, his smile widened even further. "And then I can introduce you to some druid Seers and Vates and probably Kilgharrah, too, and they can help you with your visions. What do you think, Morgana? Do you want to come?"

Other Seers and a chance to end the Purge. "I'd love to."

Merlin's smile changed, becoming quieter but no less heartfelt. "So would I."

Alternate Chapter Title: "Wherein Merlin Comes up with the Brilliant Idea of Introducing Morgana and Kilgharrah, Which Can in No Way Backfire Horribly"

In Merlin's defense, though, the dragon hasn't said a word to him about Morgana's destiny-or Mordred's either, for that matter. Merlin knows he has adversaries, but he doesn't know their (supposed?) identities.

Next chapter: The epilogue, Arthur's POV. Hopefully it will be up on March 25, though I sort of suck at deadlines lately. *sighs* Well, I guess I'll just do my best.

-Antares