CHAPTER NINE: Memories are the Province of the old.

Guinevere was not sure what she had envisioned a sorcerer's house to be like, but this was far from it. It was a little way away from Llanchad, a lonesome cottage embedded in the hills. Like the other houses, it was visibly run down but there was something holding the rotten wood frame together and keeping the slip-shod little place upright.

Inside, it wasn't much better. Every available surface was blanketed with books and papers and vials of things Gwen didn't want to question. The papers were unorganised, scattered haphazardly across the small room or shuffled into incomprehensible piles. There were half full cups of solidifying tea and other abandoned projects stacked around. Frankly, the place was a tip.

Put into context, Alderfil was everything Gaius had promised; intrepid rather than destructive. He wore dusty noble men's clothes which hung awkwardly from his frame and finished short above his wrinkled old ankles. He busied himself almost immediately upon entrance to his home, freeing a stool for Gwen to sit on, lighting a stove and fetching some tea leaves. She watched him almost fearfully; he worked at a pace superior to Gaius' and hardly acknowledged her presence at all.

She shifted on the wooden stool and gratefully accepted the cup that was handed to her. He presented a spoonful of tea leaves to her and met her questioning gaze. He grinned brokenly.

"Some people prefer to see what goes into their drink, it eases their worries." She nodded, not wishing to understand, and added the leaves herself. "So –"he paused to study her over the rim of his mug. "- What is it that you want?"

She shifted again, this time to bring out the parchment hidden in her bag. "I carry a letter from Gaius."

His eyebrows raise and he lifted the letter out of her hands. "You were serious about that? That is most odd." She didn't ask, he just carried on. "Oh, I get all sorts of masquerades. 'Just enquiring about a relative's health' or 'was in the area'…" he mimicked, his voice taking on an odd tone that couldn't represent anyone else's. "My business isn't a widely appreciated one. Generally I get the most desperate of people." He regarded Guinevere then, and once more she felt conscious of her attire. He paused and put the letter aside, unopened. "Now let's see… Gaius, Gaius Gaius." With each syllable he paced the room, considering books littered around the room. Finally, with an exaggerated flourish he plucked a royal blue volume from a pile. Gwen could just make out the gilded lettering:

'Diary. Pre-Purge and Pre-pre purge years.'

He flicked the book open and flashed a few leaves before his eyes until he found the page he wanted. He read, and she watched his eyes follow the script. Satisfied, he clicked the book shut and placed it back on its mound.

"Ahh, yes, Gaius. Dear, dear friend." He fluttered, seizing the letter once more and opening it brutishly. Gwen sat back, hands warmed around the porcelain cup as she watched him read the letter through. His face faded through patterns as he absorbed the words, at first his interest peaked but waning through the formalities. Nearing the middle of the roll his curiosity is drawn again, the interest sparkling in his ethereal blue eyes, then it fades to a business like expression; a face of someone whose mind is made up. He smiled at some unknown jester and he rolls the parchment back into itself. "How typical of Gaius."

"Huh?" Gwen looked up at the man's twinkling eyes, her fear pitching again.

"He's friendly enough but always has a purpose" He grinned. "I'm willing to help you retrieve this man's memories of you."

She flushed then. "Oh- Thank you."

He lifted himself up and started rummaging through his many belongings. "So, he's been having headaches and feelings of being incomplete. Any vivid dreams at all?" He addressed Guinevere and she scrambled for an answer.

"Not as far as I'm aware."

"Fair enough, it's a pretty usual symptom but whether the person remembers or not is based on the severity of the spell" He doesn't look up from the book he's scouring. "hmm…" he threw the book aside and picked up another. "My guess is that it's pretty amateur. Headaches are forgivable, even the best sorcerer can't avoid that side affect, but a feeling that something is missing? Amateur."

"Oh." Gwen felt she should say something. "Is that good?"

"Mostly good." He nodded and referred to some papers. "It means it's very treatable, but-" he cut in before she could feel relieved. "Memories are incredibly delicate things. A poorly conducted spell can have long lasting repercussions, and some memories might be completely lost."

She's wasn't sure how to take this, so she watched him pace his little house through the steam rising from her cup and tried not to focus on those last words - some memories might be completely lost. He broke off a scrap of parchment and began to scrawl.

He signed with a sweep of his quill and shoved it towards her. The title read:

'Evoke Tea'

She looked up, startled. He smiled at her.

"Never underestimate the power of tea."

She stared into the cup she has just finished and felt faint. Now she truly understood what he meant by 'Some people prefer to see what goes into their drink'

He was completely unfazed by her reaction, slapping his hands together and busying himself shuffling papers on the table. Gwen sat awkwardly for a moment, before getting up to leave. Their business was done.

"Thank you, Alderfil." She half-curtsied, bobbing awkwardly at the old man. As she turned to leave, he called out for her.

"Oh and-" She turned, seeing his hand outstretched in a position to pull her back. "- I can't guarantee that the potion will work. I have…" He paused, scratching the back of his head shyly "… more experience in eradicating memories rather than retrieving them."

She stared at him fearfully. He didn't meet her eyes.

"Of course -" He paused, looking up at her now. "- If it doesn't work out… my services will always be free of charge to you."

Hey eyes widened at the meaning behind his words hit her. Could she possibly do that? Delete all her memories of Arthur? She shook her head. "I don't think there will be any need. Thank you anyway."

He nodded, the flicker of hope distinguished. Guinevere took that as her cue to leave, and walked out the door, wondering why she had that horrible sense of foreboding again.

~o~

"THIS IS AN OUTRAGE!" Servants were flung aside as Uther stormed down the hall, face full of fury. "My son! Camelot's heir! The future king! I will not stand for it!"

Gaius scurried behind him, resembling Merlin a little as he kept up with the king's wrath. "Sire, it is probable Arthur is dehydrated. We have no proof-"

"I have proof enough. I want them out of my kingdom NOW!" Uther screeched, startling a young maid who ran off quickly with tears just prickling at her eyes.

Gaius stammered "Sire, is that wise? We are so close to gaining an alliance -"

Uther stopped abruptly, wheeling round on Gaius. "What use is an alliance to some vagrant magic supporters?"

His advisor flinched at the vemon in Uther's voice. "Very well, throw them out. But I hasten to remind you that King Carmen might be enticed into war."

Uther scowled, knowing that Gaius was right. He swept round and down the hall before disappearing around the corner. Gaius sighed, before following a few paces behind.

From her crevice in the wall, Princess Rosaline let out her breath. She was flat against the stone, trying to remain unseen. She stood in the alcove for a moment, listening to the footsteps go past and trying to gauge whether it was safe to slip out yet. Finally, there was a lull in the pace and she glided out of her hiding space.

The servants paid her no mind as she tottered past them towards her chambers. They were too busy over exceeding at their job and she didn't attempt eye contact. She made it to her chambers untroubled and slammed the door shut. She leant against it for a bit, eyes shut with mental and physical exhaustion. She wasn't stupid, she had suspected their stay in Camelot would be short lived. Yet still, she felt she was seeing her destiny fall before her eyes. Then, she realised she wasn't alone.

She opened her eyes slowly and eased herself off the oak frame of the door. She couldn't see the intruder, but she could feel him. Feel his magic. Her eyes flickered gold as she tried to hone in on her senses, but nothing came of it. Cursing under her breath, she took the human option instead. "Who's there?"

There was no response (not really a surprise) so she tried again. "I know you're there. I won't call the guards."

Nothing.

"I know you have magic. But I do too. We're the same, you and I." She said out loud.

"We are not the same." A firm voice reprimanded. He walked out of the servant's antechamber and met her stare straight on. "We will never be the same." Merlin glared.

She frowned at the sight of him. Arthur's manservant? Well this was a surprise. "What do you want?" She crossed her arms and watched him.

"I could ask the same of you." He snapped back. She didn't say anything, waiting for him to elaborate. He relented, staring at her accusingly "Arthur's unconscious."

"And that's somehow my fault?" She said, incredulously.

"Yes!" Merlin yelled. "You put a spell on him! I know you did!"

She stiffened. "You have no proof."

"I don't need proof. Uther's going to throw you out of Camelot either way."

"Then what are you doing in my chambers?" She pointed. "If not looking for proof?"

He wavered a bit, but pulled himself together. "I need you to tell me what spell you put on him." She stared. He continued. "At first I thought it was just a memory spell, but now I'm thinking it's a lot, lot worse."

That's funny, so did I… She stared at him, loosing track of the conversation as her mind tried to conjure an answer.

"Why did you do it, Rosaline?" He asked, eyes burning into her. "Why?"

"Why?" She screamed back. "WHY?" She stood for a moment, breath hitching. Then, her eyes flashed gold and she yelled. "LACUNAR AMORAY!"


:) Still writing. I'm aiming to update at least every two weeks, but GCSE exams...