Percival had been right that spring was beautiful. The muddy slush of the thaw was giving way to carpets of green as the grass and trees began to put out new growth. Tiny flowers were appearing from nowhere, speckling the fields with white and blue and yellow like a second dusting of multicolored snow. Even the evergreen trees were turning a brighter shade of green as tufts of new needles appeared at the ends of their branches.
The King went out on an extended patrol to go around the complete circumference of the kingdom and see what damage the winter storms had done to the little castles and guard posts. Cottia stayed behind at the Queen's request. Guinevere enjoyed the girl's company.
Cottia spent some of her copious free time in the library. She wanted to know more about the druids, and Merlin would not tell her much about them. Most of what she found was in story form, and hard to verify, but she gathered that they were a secretive and generally peaceful community of people who had magic and believed that it could be used for the good of all. Most of the stories mentioned someone called Emrys, who was, apparently, immortal, unbelievably powerful, and the protector of the King of Camelot. Cottia was skeptical. Arthur didn't approve of magic, and she assumed that he would notice a sorcerer in his court.
One day as she was sitting at a table in the library, a boy dressed in the formal livery of the royal servants came up to her.
"Excuse me, miss, a girl called Sophie wants to meet you in the wood at the old guard tower."
"Really? Thanks."
The boy darted off. She and Sophie had been talking about getting together and taking a walk in the woods on a nice day, and she had told her to send a message when she had free time. Cottia had nothing to do for the rest of the day; the Queen was expecting Arthur to arrive back at any time. She'd go hang out with Sophie. It would keep her mind off things.
No one was in sight when she arrived at the decrepit old guard tower that overlooked the castle. As Cottia hesitated, frowning, someone clamped a piece of cloth over her mouth and nose, and everything went black.
She woke up sprawled in her chair in the library. She sprang to her feet and looked around wildly. Had she dreamed it all? There wasn't even mud on her shoes. The sun had gone down a little, and the library was filled with the honey glow of soft afternoon sunlight. Perhaps it had all been a dream. She hadn't been sleeping well lately, what with the pesky dream about the druid camp and . . . other worries.
She kept getting the feeling that everyone was standing a little way back from her in case she suddenly exploded. The King always kept an eye on her when she was in the room, and the Queen had developed an odd way of looking at her as though she was not quite what she had expected to see. And Merlin - he had gone cold. That was the only way to describe it. When she had first accepted his offer of an apprenticeship, he had been lovely to her, empathetic and gentle. Now he would not hold deep conversations with her, and he questioned her every time she was out for more than an hour or so, as if he suspected her of sneaking off to do something forbidden. Only Percival still showed her kindness, although it was tinged with wistfulness now, rather like a disappointed puppy. Sometimes she felt an overwhelming urge to pat him on the head, which was ridiculous, because he was six and a half feet tall and could probably carry both the King and Sir Leon. With one hand. And a horse.
The patrol had not returned by nightfall. Cottia tidied up the Queen's chambers and helped her out of her formal court gown and said goodnight. Then she went back to the empty room in the tower and sat staring out at the distant stars until she fell asleep. She did not even have the heart to pick up the Red Book. Pippin and Gandalf were on their way to Minas Tirith, Theoden and Aragorn were on their way back to Edoras, and Frodo was alive but taken by the Enemy - but somehow they hung there, frozen, and she could not bring herself to read on. They were hovering on the point of no return, and (she knew it was silly, but she could not help it), she felt that she was in much the same position.
Ironically, she slept better that night than she had for months, and no dreams came to disturb her peace.
0000
The Queen seemed sleepy in the morning, and decided to stay in her room instead of going for a walk as usual. Cottia wandered out and sat on the battlements in a little niche she had discovered high up among the crenellations. She could see nearly all the way to where the forest met the distant mountains from there.
She had been sitting there for at least two hours, with her battered copy of The Eagle of the Ninth clasped to her chest - she hadn't been reading it, just holding it, as if the paper and ink could substitute for the real person whose companionship she missed so bitterly - when a faint tingle of uneasiness began to creep across her mind. She looked down on the quiet town.
It was very quiet today. Usually, the blacksmiths and the cries of the people selling things made a sort of symphony in the background, but today they were all silent. The sudden cooing of a pigeon pecking along the stones near her made her jump. It was ages since she'd heard the clanking and jingling of the guards on the walls, too. And as she inhaled, the smell of smoke was much thinner than usual, and replaced by something more chemical and faintly sparkly. Something was definitely wrong. Cottia jumped down from her perch and ran along the eerily deserted corridors to find the Queen.
Guinevere was sitting at the desk in her bedroom, sprawled forward, her head cosily resting on an open ledger. Cottia shook her, shyly at first, but with increasing force. She resorted to trying magic to awaken her, but it had no effect. She wished then that she had learned a few spells from the illegible and stained books. She didn't know the right feeling to wake someone up.
0000
"That's funny," said Sir Leon. Percival glanced at him.
"What is?"
"No smoke. See?" Leon pointed over the tops of the trees towards the castle. Percival's brow furrowed.
"It might be a holiday," he suggested, but his voice held no conviction.
"What's the matter?" Arthur called. He and Merlin had been riding behind the other two. He had been working out the logistics of repairing a badly damaged guard post on the eastern border, and Merlin had been daydreaming.
"There doesn't appear to be any smoke coming up from the town, sire."
"You're right." Merlin was suddenly beside him, jerked out of his reverie. "Merlin?"
He shook his head and would not say a word, but his eyes were full of anxiety.
The guards at the gate were sprawled on the ground. Arthur slid down from the saddle and bent over them. "They're asleep!" he said. "I'd say dead drunk, but there isn't a hint of alcohol anywhere."
The four of them bunched together as they rode through the silent streets, their horses' hooves ringing loudly on the cobbles. When they reached the courtyard, there were guards asleep at their posts there, too, and courtiers and servants and knights, all slumbering where they had fallen.
Merlin tugged at Arthur's sleeve as they handed their horses to Percival. "Do you remember the Knights of Medhir?" he whispered.
Arthur looked grim. "Yes," he answered, drawing his sword. "Where's Guinevere?"
They ran up the stairs together. Arthur had sent Leon with Percival, to stable the horses and check on the other knights.
"She'd probably be in her room," Merlin called as Arthur turned towards the council chambers.
"Why? There's always a council at midday."
"Remember the last time? People felt sick before they fell asleep. I don't think they had time to hold a council.'
Arthur ran after him. "You think this is the same? I thought we got rid of the Knights."
"They didn't make everyone fall asleep. Morgause did that so they could get in easier. Someone could be trying the same thing again."
"You think this is sorcery?"
"Yes!"
"How do you know?"
"I just do!"
"Damn you, why won't you just tell me!" Arthur muttered.
"What?"
"Nothing!"
They burst into Arthur's bedroon. Gwen was there, lying across the bed. Cottia sprang up from the chair by the desk as they came in.
"It's you! I was worried! What took you so long?"
"What's happening here?" Merlin demanded. Arthur looked up from checking on Gwen, startled.
"I don't know! She was tired this morning and didn't want to go out so I took a book and sat on the wall and then I noticed it was really quiet and then I came to check on her and there were people lying everywhere in the corridors and then she was asleep at her desk and I don't know what going on! Even Sophie and the rest of them are asleep, like they just fell down where they were standing!"
Merlin had gone white. Arthur, satisfied that Gwen was in no danger, went over to Cottia and looked closely at her. She stared back. He could see that she was frightened and bewildered and very grateful that they were with her, but apart from that - Either she was telling the truth or she was the best liar he had ever known.
"Why didn't you fall asleep?" he asked quietly.
"How should I know?"
He nodded. "Go down to the stables. Leon and Percival are there. Help them check on the other knights." His calm voice seemed to steady her, and she ran off. He turned to Merlin, who suddenly looked old and in pain. "What is it?"
"Not again," he said softly. "I can't bear to do it again. Please don't make me do it again."
"Do what? Merlin!"
He blinked and started. "Last time this happened, I had to . . ."
"How did you get Morgause to lift the enchantment? I came in when it was all over and she was escaping with Morgana as prisoner."
Merlin was holding on to the edge of the table now. "It's a very powerful sleeping spell, relatively easy to cast but hard to maintain without a living vessel within the area affected.
"A person?"
Merlin nodded.
"What happens to them?"
"Nothing. They just aren't affected."
Arthur's expression changed. "Cottia?"
"It has to be. And she must be the one who cast it in the first place."
"What? Don't be an idiot! How could she? She'd have to have magic."
"She does, Arthur. She's very powerful, nearly as powerful as Morgana at the height of her power."
"Why didn't you tell me? I needed to know this!"
"I'm sorry." Merlin was almost in tears. "I am fond of her. I thought she was better than this. I wanted to protect her."
Arthur looked around desperately. "Are you certain that it's her who is doing this? What if she's just being used? That's what happened to Morgana, after all. There are plenty of other sorcerers in the world who still blame me for my father's persecution."
"It would help if you repealed his prejudiced laws!" Merlin almost hissed at him. "You condemn innocent people to death for a talent - yes, a talent - that they have no choice but to possess. You can't choose how you're born. Magic is not automatically an evil force. Can't you see that?"
"Calm down," Arthur said placatingly. "You know I never agreed with my father's extremes. How did you stop Morgause before?"
"I - I - Only the person who put the enchantment in place can lift it. If someone else needs to, they have to - to get rid of the vessel. That automatically breaks it."
"We're going to have to kill someone to wake everyone up? See, that's why I don't care for magic, right there."
"It's not all like that! Those are the old ways, controlled as much by power-hungry maniacs as by the laws of magic. It shouldn't have to be like this."
Arthur blinked. "You still think Cottia is the vessel? We have to kill her if she refuses to lift the enchantment?"
"Yes," Merlin said miserably.
"I won't let that happen without proof. What proof do we need that she is innocent?"
"Someone else has to be here and awake. Then it could be either of them."
"Then we'd better get looking."
0000
The five of them ransacked the town and the castle. No one else was awake but themselves. Arthur pulled Merlin aside as they all headed back towards the great hall. They were beginning to feel the effects of the sleeping spell now, but Cottia was as unaffected as ever.
"Is that it, then?" he asked dully.
"Yes," Merlin said, his voice eerily devoid of any emotion. "That's it. I will ask her to lift it. If she will not - We need it gone, or we will succumb to it, too."
"How will you - ?" Arthur could not bring himself to finish the question. He was no stranger to death and killing, but that was always in fair fight or in justice. Cold-bloodedly ending Cottia's life repulsed him. There was a strange, mechanical look in Merlin's face. Arthur did not like it at all.
"I suppose the way I did before," he answered as though talking to himself. "It will be easier. She trusts me more."
"Is that how you convinced Morgause to lift the spell? What did you do to Morgana?"
"Poison. As soon as you left to hold the Knights off. I knew you didn't have much time. It was the only way. She looked so scared," he added. "I think that drove her over the edge. That's why she believed all the lies Morgause told her afterwards."
"Merlin -"
"I can do this. I want to do this. I won't kill her if there is any other way. Please?"
Arthur nodded, and touched Merlin's shoulder. "It's for the safety of the entire kingdom," she said, not quite believing that he was hearing his own voice. She was a child! How could they do this to her?
Merlin turned and ran after Cottia, not meeting Arthur's gaze.
0000
"Isn't there something you can do to wake then up?" Cottia was staring up at him, her wide eyes desperate and appealing. It can't be her, he thought, and the the little thoughts crept in: Morgana could look as innocent as anything. You can't trust her. But she's not Morgana! She's always been good.
"I can do nothing," Merlin said, stressing the 'I'. He looked intently at her. "You can."
"How?"
"I don't know. But since you caused this, you and only you can lift it."
"What? It's not me!"
"You're the only person unaffected. I've seen this kind of thing before. You're the vessel keeping the enchantment working. You have magic, and you're bright enough to work out that using someone else as a vessel is inconvenient and dangerous when you want to stay in the area. Why are you doing this? Revenge? For what? Haven't we been kind to you?"
"Yes! You all have! I don't understand." She sat down, still looking at him. "Why have you suddenly started suspecting me? What did I do?"
"You have inherited some . . . personality flaws that affect how you act. But it's not too late. You can still turn around and be a good person. Please, Cottia. I know you are good at heart. Don't let the bitterness consume you. Lift this enchantment and tell your allies the invasion is off."
"What invasion?"
"Don't play games with me!" Merlin looked angry now. There was a hardness behind his eyes that made Cottia suddenly very afraid of him. The softness and empathy was gone and in their place was pure ruthlessness and fury. "Lift it now!"
"I can't! I don't know how! I didn't cause it!"
She barely had time to realize that he had moved before he was standing behind her, forcing her to open her mouth and pouring something down her throat. She swallowed convulsively and spluttered, fighting back furiously. "What are you doing?"
He let go of her and moved back as she tried to claw at him. She blinked, catching hold of the back of the chair to steady herself. Things were suddenly going blurry, and she felt heavy. "What was that?" she muttered.
He caught her as her knees gave way and she slumped to the floor, struggling to breathe. He held her cradled against his shoulder, just as he had held Morgana so many years before. But Cottia was not fighting him, just staring up at him with a look of shocked confusion in her eyes.
"Merlin," she said questioningly. He stroked her hair, trying to calm her. Even if she had betrayed their trust, no one deserved to die alone and frightened. She was having trouble talking now as the poison took hold, but he just made out the words "Don't let go. Please?"
He held her tighter. He couldn't bear to look down at her anymore, and instead stared out the window at the sun and the clouds. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I really am. But it's my destiny to protect Arthur, and I can't let anyone get in the way." She stirred slightly, reaching up to clutch at his shirt with one hand.
"Merlin," she said, the word barely more than a breath as she closed her eyes and relaxed into his arms.
0000
Arthur found him still sitting on the floor, holding her and staring out the window. Tears were pouring down his face. "It shouldn't be like this," he said incoherently. "Why do I always have to lose everyone I love?"
"Is she - ?"
"She's gone." Merlin picked her up and carried her into her room, placing her gently on her bed, still not looking directly at her. Arthur came over and picked up her wrist.
"Are you sure?'
"Leave her alone!" Merlin snapped.
Arthur put her hand gently down on the bed. She was dead. There was no doubt about it. An unpleasant jolt ran through him. "It wasn't her," he said hoarsely.
Merlin was standing beside the bed and didn't seem to hear him. "Merlin! It wasn't her that was the vessel."
"What? It must have been." He looked up fiercely. "It had to have been her."
"But we're still feeling sick."
Merlin stared stupidly at him. "But she wasn't affected."
"Can there be two vessels, then? Or some way of protecting someone? Because I'm not feeling any better, and -"
The clatter of horse hooves rang like trumpets in the silence. Arthur darted out of the room as fast as he could. Merlin followed more slowly. They both reached a place where they could look down into the courtyard.
Six horses had just trotted into the courtyard. Four of them were awkwardly ridden by soldiers from the Other Side. The remaining two were ridden by two smug-looking children, one a tall boy and the other a girl with violently red hair.
Arthur stared. "Who is that?"
"They used her. They wanted us to -" Arthur had never seen Merlin so angry. "They tricked me into killing her. They were jealous of her."
"Sir Roderick's children," Arthur said slowly. "Come on. We have to get down there." He turned, but Merlin was already gone.