"Put the kettle on, Gwaine. Remove your armor, you don't need it right now. Tell me everything that you can about what happened," said Gaius with a tremble in his voice as the knight paced near the door.

Gwaine told Gaius everything as he fumbled to do as instructed even though he was terribly shaken. The sound of scissors snipping, metal and cold water heating, and Merlin's gurgling breaths mixed into some kind of terrible chorus. Three male servants, who had obviously had just been running, respectfully entered the chamber and offered assistance.

"I'll need freshly boiled rags, towels, and sheets," grumbled Gaius who once again trembled before he continued, "a bathtub... get me the unpopular kind, the flat one... Oh and warm water. I also need someone to get an armful of fresh mint. Just the plant, not the roots!" He had to yell out the last part for the servant who took that assignment started running before Gaius was finished speaking.

After the servants had put everything Gaius could possibly need within arms reach, he gently shooed them out of his chambers. He placed bottles in the hands, instructions in the minds, and a purpose for their uneasy hearts – as he recommended that their care would best be spent on Leon, Elyan, and Arthur. Those three children, in the elderly physician's eyes, needed their nerves soothed more than he did – he had seen lightning strikes before. This wasn't as bad in honesty, Merlin hadn't been blown out of his boots and his clothing, tattered and smoldering, was basically in tact. The burns on the bottom on his feet were quite dramatic and Gaius suspected that some of the boy's bones had cracked. A jagged pattern of cauterized burns decorated the normally flawless skin. Blood vessels had burst below the skin's surface, making Merlin's appearance more grotesque than human.

Gaius sighed, Merlin's jacket had been completely ruined, he would be very upset about that.

It had been a time consuming process, but Merlin's tortured body couldn't take much more trauma. It took a delicate hand and a bit of detachment to deal with these kind of injuries. Gaius had half rolled Merlin onto his side so he could soak the last few remnants of cloth that had been cauterized into the boy's delicate flesh. He pulled a strip of cloth, leaving a weeping wound when Merlin hissed in pain. Merlin moved as far away as the cot would allow, his arms going over his head.

"Stop! Leave me alone! It hurts! It hurts!" whined Merlin who started to flail in self defense.

Gaius called out to Gwaine, "Help me, I need to dose him with the pain killer."

The secret warlock pushed away from Gwaine, who had only tried to touch his hand. The boy's confusion and agony was etched into every movement. His breaths were still gurgled. He coughed, moaned and sobbed – however he was putting up a good fight against the knight who was attempting to be gentle with his injured friend.

"Gwaine, you need to manage him before he damages himself!" reprimanded Gaius as he looked for his freshest batch of pain killing willow bark water blended with enough Valerian to render even someone like Merlin unconscious for the next few hours.

Merlin, as slightly built as he was, was not weak. He shoved at Gwaine with unfocused eyes. The boy was filthy, naked, injured and in unimaginable pain – and he still had the strength to struggle. The knight's heart was breaking as his friend, his dear friend, kept yelling, "You're hurting me. Don't touch me!"

"He's in pain anyway, Gwaine. Restrain him! Before he does himself any more damage!" commanded Gaius, who had just wrapped his finger around the bottle he'd been looking for so desperately.

Just as Gwaine got the nerve to hold down the boy... just as he went to crush this precious person against his chest and keep him there until Gaius could render him unconscious – the unthinkable happened.

"Pfht! Kfeeeeee! RrreeEEEeeeeee!" screamed Merlin at his botherer.

"GAIUS!" yelled the handsome knight, who held his hands up in surrender as a small black cat in full agitated fluff howled warnings. Bright white teeth flashed against pink as the small black mouth opened in another chorus of feline fear. "Gaius! Oh gods, Gaius!"

Merlin's little hindlegs walked forward while one front paw held his weight. One paw with silvery claws slashed at nothing. He was putting on quite the show of aggression. "Pffht! Kffiisssssssssss!"

Gaius tutted. His face had paled, but there was no indication of surprise. He struggled to keep things under control, "Catch him, Gwaine!"

"But Gaius, he... he..!"

"I can see that, Gwaine. Catch him before he does more damage to himself! He's still Merlin and he's still injured!"

Merlin's feline form was larger than a kitten, but was still not a full grown cat. His transformation had also carried over his injuries. Even though his fur was standing on end in agitation, bald spots of injuries showed through. Growls mixed with pops of bravado, the little cat bounced side to side – ready for battle. Gwaine went to grab him by his scruff, but Merlin was quicker than his handsome friend. He leapt off the cot and ran under the potion cabinet.

"Oh no," the face palmed physician moaned.

"Pfht!" popped Merlin followed by a low growl and moan.

Gwaine got down on the floor on his belly and started to beg the cat... errr Merlin... to come out. "Come on, mate. I won't hurt you. I just want to help you." He snaked his hand under the cabinet and pulled it back striped with red bloody lines. "He scratched me, Gaius! He actually scratched me!"

"He's afraid," explained the old man as if this was perfectly normal and made perfect sense. Gwaine made his voice sweeter and kinder as he kept imploring to his friend to come out from the cabinet. He pushed his hand into the crevice once again, but instead of attacking Gwaine – Merlin made a run for it. He dashed out in all of his frenzied feline glory. Little legs scrambling despite the injuries to the pads of his feet. Merlin let out little "ooms" of pain as he ran. Gwaine dove after his friend, knocking chairs over. He bashed his head into a small table. His reward for his effort was a shower of dried herbs and one pissed off hissing furry ball danging from his hand.

Merlin's paws were still but raised as the grip had frozen all his movements. The growling continued, but it was quieter than before. Gwaine noticed that the tail was as puffed at it could be for such a small cat.

"Phhft!" complained his friend.

"Well you might as well give him a bath. If he's in this form it might be easier to get him clean." said Gaius pointing to a bucket of soapy water that was initially for Merlin's sponge bath before he was set into the soaking tub.

"Me? Don't you want to?" Gwaine asked still holding Merlin at arms length by the scruff. The handsome knight looked as if he couldn't believe what he was doing.

"We might lose him in the transfer from person to person and I don't think I want my chambers wrecked by another attempt at capture," the old physician said and then more fondly he scolded Merlin, "I told you that you were to protect your magic with your life and here you are transforming in front of your friend. You're a troublesome young man!"

"Pfht! Keeeeeeeerrrrrrroooowwwww!" cursed Merlin in the feline tongue before adding, "Grrrrrrrrrrwwwwww"

"Oh hush."

Gwaine turned and looked at the bucket and then his friend. The handsome knight grimly smiled, "Sorry mate."

Aggravaine couldn't leave the castle. Morganna couldn't visit. The storm raged on and even though it didn't seem dangerous – it was magic. It wasn't good to test it by using your own body. Even though some of the knights had ventured out and braved the storm – he wasn't about to do it. There was something menacing about the magic that was displaying itself. He could only think of one person and one person alone who would be capable of this – Emrys. Somewhere in Camelot, there was the legendary warlock leaking magic. Churning the heavens themselves in uncontrollable fits of power.

It didn't take long for the news that Merlin had been struck by lightning to reach him. The whole castle was buzzing with gossip. Whether or not he was dead or alive, did not matter. What mattered was that it was confirmed that it was not safe to venture outside. The whole castle was in a panic. Some of the peasants dared to dash outside from building to building and managed to do so without being struck, so the logic dictated that anyone who tried to leave the citadel would be attacked.

The druids had come and would not speak to him. They insisted that they be given an audience with Arthur not Aggravaine. They managed to enter the citadel, but they had magic. They practiced a nature bound, loving, form of magic that probably went unnoticed by Emrys.

Emrys, for some reason, was doing this to them. He would pay.

Even if it was an attempt to keep Morganna from speaking to insiders, it was a pretty grand and desperate display. There would be no way that any magic user would be able to maintain this kind of magic for a long time. It still left so much unanswered. All he could do was guess, but he had to be sure of himself. He wouldn't be able to help Morganna if he were dead, so he decided to wait and watch.

Emrys might be vulnerable right now. He might make a mistake and reveal himself.

If Arthur hadn't gotten fried, at least it had been that meddlesome boy who's eyes saw to much and who's ears heard to much, who had gotten blasted. One less obstacle in the way. He'd have more freedom of movement now with Merlin taken out of the picture. Even if the boy lived, he wouldn't be in a good way.

Somehow, he had to make this work to his advantage.

The black cat growled, " grrmmm grmmmmr grrmmmm grrrmmmm," every time Gwaine rubbed with the towel. It was obvious that something was wrong with the left fore-paw. Merlin let out the loudest complaints when it was agitated, but a soak and a scrub in the bucket with several rinses left the kitty with much less to say than before. He was still hostile, but wrapped in a towel and pressed against his friend's chest – didn't leave him much room to complain. The young and the wounded have much in common, when to much has happened all at once – both quickly succumb to sleep.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," muttered Gwaine.

Gaius was concerned that Gwaine might actually have enough time to register that the creature he was holding was really his friend and that his friend had been keeping secrets. Magic was not something people spoke about, but the two were close enough that Merlin had expressed some regret that Gwaine did not know. He hadn't said much more about it since Lancelot had died, but Gaius knew that Gwaine was trusted. What ever concerns he had about the knight flew like smoke up the chimney when the knight's expression turned to pure fondness when Merlin nodded off accompanied by a soft purr.

"I think his wrist might be broken. Lightning can break bones," explained Gaius as he pointed at the tiny swollen paw.

"Uhm," the knight blushed, "Is he a cat turned human or is he a human turned cat?" Gentle fingers rubbed the area right between Merlin's eyes. A favorite sweet spot of most domesticated cats.

The physician started to laugh, "Oh my dear boy. You suprise me. Merlin is not a cat by nature. He turned himself into a cat. He probably did it without realizing it. He wasn't himself when he transformed." Old fingers plucked around a table looking for distraction, "You're not going to say anything are you?"

It was Gwaine's turn to laugh, "About his magic? Are you kidding? No way. I'm not thrilled that he didn't tell me about it before turning into this little piece of nastiness. He did scratch me, but I'd not turn him in for magic because of a few scratches." A few scratches indeed. Gwaine was covered in scratches. His face, arms, and hands – all bore the marks of an unsatisfactory run in of the feline kind.

"Actually he was probably easier to handle like this," Gaius commented.

"What if someone comes to see him?"

Gaius sighed, "For now the door is locked, hopefully he changes back before that happens. When he does change back I'll have to dress his injuries and tend to his wrist. I'd like to do it now, but I don't want to put anything like a splint on him if he's going to turn back without warning. It would hurt.

Gwaine nodded as his imagination explored possibilities.

"For now, why don't you take him up to his room? Put him on the bed. We'll lock him in and hope that instinct works for him. He's a very fast healer, but we cannot risk anyone noticing.. things."

"I'm so glad he's alright," Gwaine said after he had put Merlin in his room and closed the door behind him, "I'd take a thousand more scratches and bites if it meant a faster recovery."

The physician motioned him over and began to tend to his wounds. He tutted over the quantity of little scratches that Merlin had inflected. One by one, the lacerations were dabbed with honey while the two men spoke of friendship, danger, and magic. Gaius shared all he knew about Merlin and his magic. He told about his heroism and his responsibilities. He shared the legend. His suspicions. His secret sorrows about Merlin being his nephew and how dangerous even that knowledge was in Camelot for Gaius at one time was a known practitioner of magic.

"Merlin might be magic, but he's been alone because he is unique. I might have known about his magic – but I've been alone because I could not share my worries. It seems that destiny has chosen that you should know the truth and be a comfort to us both," Gaius said fondly.

Gwaine had never felt more accepted in his entire life.

Arthur ended up sleeping through the rest of the day and throughout the night thanks to the potion that Gaius had supplied to the staff. It was only a half of day of rest, but it was time where his body could relax. His mind would not be filled with images of his friend being struck due to the dreamless properties of the potion. George had not left the royal alone since he dosed him. There was always a handpicked maid or serving boy to grace the antechamber next to Arthur's bedroom, when and if George had to leave the young Pendragon.

It took forever to remove the bits of Merlin that had embedded itself into Arthur's chainmail, but he finally managed it. He worked hard to remove the smell from the room. Two maids had taken on the task of cleaning Arthur's clothes and although they looked like they were going to cry – George let them.

No one told Merlin, but his presence in the castle had improved life for all of them. While it was true that he worked harder than anyone else – he also smiled more than anyone else. He was truly a kind person and no one was jealous of his appointment to Arthur. His good nature had some how calmed the young Pendragon, who was less cruel and more thoughtful these days. His polishing techniques may not be perfect, his timing might not be great, but his heart had touched everyone around him.

George was glad that Arthur was upset. He didn't have the courage to say it, but there was a little bit of satisfaction that came with Arthur's tears. Arthur had made his brother run with a target while he threw knives at him once. It was the day that Merlin had stepped into their lives. David had quit the job as soon as he could. He became valet to another lord and had left Camelot. Merlin soon stepped in as manservant after that. George had been afraid that he would end up as manservant to the future king and while he could do his job "perfectly" there were many things that Arthur demanded that was not in the job description.

He would never want Arthur to suffer, nor did he want Merlin to die. He was just glad that the man who would one day lead the kingdom had learned how to genuinely care. That gave George hope for the future. However, the future was still far away while Uther still lived. George started to clean as quietly as he could. He sent out Arthur's boots to other servants who waited in the hallway. They all wanted to help. They wanted to do what ever they could to get through this so that Merlin had less to do when he returned. They all prayed that he would return healthy and with the same goofy grin that always graced his face.

Merlin lay on his back, his short dark fur perfectly dry now was smooth. His paws were tucked but yet hanging in the air as he slept, unaware of all the good will and love that was poured into thoughts and prayers for his well-being.

Sigh...probably not what you were expecting, but the scene wrote itself.

This is the ONLY way I wanted Gwaine to find out about Merlin's magic

in this story. It was the only thing that made sense.

Merlin's not out of the woods yet. He's still injured and up to his neck in

trouble.

Love it? Hate it? Think it needs a rewrite? Lemme know.