A/N: A little breather- don't worry, Daegal will be back :)
Merlin had stopped seizing by the time Daegal returned with the healer and their escort, now lying deathly still by the fire with the cloaks wrapped around him once more.
He was barely distinguishable from a corpse, but Arthur couldn't bring himself to check his breathing or heartbeat.
Gaius had re-examined the servant once he stilled and announced that the man still clung to life, thereupon returning to his root-grinding- in need of some task to stave off the feeling of uselessness.
The healer, a venerable druid about Gaius' age with long white hair and kind brown eyes went directly to his patient and knelt, robes pooling about him.
Without a word he slipped a wrinkled hand under the impromptu blankets to rest on Merlin's chest and sat like that for several moments, brow furrowed.
Arthur had remained on the invalid's other side, watching the druid with a mixture of hope and suspicion.
When the man withdrew and still remained silent, the king could hold back no longer.
"Well? Can you help him?"
The healer started as if he hadn't noticed the other man- and perhaps he hadn't, focused as he was on Emrys.
He took a deep breath and released it slowly.
"The poison is deep in him, I cannot undo the damage it has done..."
The ground seemed to fall out from beneath Arthur's feet, leaving him with no anchor to reality.
"...but I can stop it from doing him further ill. From what I understand, he has already withstood one attack of the shakes- most die once they reach that point. The fact that he has survived means he has a chance to recover on his own."
The monarch latched onto those words, not even noticing that he had grabbed Merlin as if to physically hold him to the land of the living.
"Please," Arthur choked out "please do what you can for him."
The hoary head nodded.
"Of course."
Taking a more comfortable cross-legged position in the dirt above his patient's head, the druid lightly placed both hands on the pale face. Gold blazed in his irises as he entered a light trance, seeking out the poison in Emrys' veins and destroying what he could; the remainder was forced from his blood by a rush of magic that collected it all in his stomach and isolated it from the rest of the body.
The healer leaned back, winded, and broke contact with Merlin.
That last flood of gold had not been his own- it seems Emrys' own magic had been eager to help and only needed the slight encouragement of another's power to leap into action. And a good thing it was- there was a taint of dark magic to the foul substance that had greatly undermined the healer's influence, he might have failed utterly without the aid.
The elder faced his king.
"He should begin to slowly improve now. Once he regains consciousness his body will purge itself of the poison- make sure to avoid touching it. I must now return to my own camp to rest- Daegal?"
The young man stepped forward to help support the healer, clearly reluctant to leave but not having much choice.
The monarch was a bit taken aback by his abrupt retreat, but nonetheless made a gesture of respect in the elder's direction.
"You have my deepest thanks for this- how may I repay you?"
The druid looked back with a slight smile.
"You are already doing so."
Then he shuffled off into the dark before a puzzled Arthur could even send an escort with them.