I'm quite impressed with myself for updating twice without having disappeared for at least a year. I've also got a rough draft finished of the next chapter so prepare yourselves for a hat-trick!

Really appreciate all of the reads and views on this, those of you who have lasted the course with me from the very beginning are all wonderful, so thank you!

I do not own Merlin, all rights belong to the BBC.

Chapter 15

Gaius looks up from his work at the sound of the alarm bells echoing into his chambers. Frowning he moves from his desk to peer through the murky glass of the window, seeing feet rushing past and muffled shouts from the street above.

"It's the king!" someone yells as they sprint past.

The air shifts suddenly, and Gaius jumps with a shout at the sound of pained yells and crashing furniture behind him. The physician turns apprehensively to be met with the sight of tangled limbs and upturned tables, and a very familiar mop of black hair. Blue eyes meet his blearily from where they look up from the floor.

Gaius' heart jolts with a mixture of shock and joy. "Merlin?" he gasps.

The sorcerer blinks wearily at him, a crook of a smile at the corner of his mouth. He is alarmingly pale, and looks as though he hasn't slept in weeks. Blood is seeping through one of the arms of his tunic, which hangs, stained and tattered, on his thin frame.

"Gaius" he gasps, staggering to his feet and disturbing a groaning Gwaine behind him, who immediately starts crawling on his side towards the third, still, figure on the ground.

It's Arthur, Gaius realises. And he's not moving. The physician freezes in shock.

Long fingers, stained with red reach out to clutch at his own desperately, pulling Gaius back to the present. He meets Merlin's eyes.

"Gaius", the sorcerer gasps again, "Please, Gaius I need your help. Please help me!" Merlin's hand leaves his as the servant turns shakily to help Gwaine with the King, shifting the prone figure onto his back.

Gaius balks at the sight of the golden handle protruding from Arthur's chest, fear lancing through his body and shocking him into motion. "Get him onto the table" he barks, as he moves to locate his surgical tools, adrenaline focusing his mind.

Across the room Gwaine groans in pain, and Gaius hears Merlin's hushed words. Grabbing his equipment, the physician turns to see Merlin moving the knight into a more comfortable position against the wall. The warlock turns, eyes glowing gold and Arthur floats up to land gently on the table. With another wave of the Merlin's hand the king's armour disappears, allowing the men to see the extent of the damage, and the alarming amount of blood staining the King's clothes.

Reigning in his shock at Merlin's public display of magic Gaius moves to his king, examining the wound closely. There will be time to talk later, once Arthur is out of danger. There is no room to imagine any other outcome. Panic will not help them now.

"What happened?" he asks Merlin calmly, scissors coming up to carefully cut away the king's tunic.

Where have you been? What happened to you?...

"Morgana", Gwaine croaks from the wall in front of him. "She ambushed us. I couldn't stop it". The knight's eyes squeeze shut in pain as he shifts, head lolling back to rest against the wall.

Gaius' gaze moves to Merlin, who is staring down at Arthur with a desperate, almost manic expression. "I can't help him" he whispers, eyes moving up to look at his mentor, "my magic won't work, I can't heal him. I can't heal Gwaine." The Sorcerer stretches out a hand, palm upwards. Gaius takes in the blistered welts on his charge's hand, noting the tremors running up the arm and storing the information away for later.

"The knife" Merlin continues, "I think it's cursed." He moves his injured hand to next to the glinting handle, the welts matching the inlaid rubies which seem to glow brighter at the sorcerer's proximity. "The gems burn. And when I tried to remove the knife with magic nothing happened."

Frowning Gaius bends to inspect the rubies more carefully, pale blue eyes taking in their unnatural glow and how they seem to shimmer without light, as though something was moving beneath the surface. His frown deepens. Gaze flickering to check on Gwaine and seeing the knight's eyes still closed, the physician casts out a hand to feel around the dagger with his gentle magic. He almost recoils at the strength of what he finds. This is something powerful, and dark.

He says as much to Merlin as he starts to pack bandages around the King's wound, hoping to slow the bleeding. It's a miracle that Arthur still lives given the dagger's proximity to his heart.

The warlock's brow furrows as he stares at the knife. "How could I not have felt that?" he murmurs, hand reaching out to sense around the hilt as Gaius had. The rubies flash dangerously, and before Gaius can blink Merlin is doubled over in agony, forehead resting against the cool surface of the table. The younger man whimpers shakily, breathing harshly through his nose as he works to calm his trembling.

Worry creeps coldly into Gaius' chest at the sight and he regards the knife again warily. This is wicked magic. Keeping one hand pressed firmly against the king's chest the physician reaches out to grip Merlin's shoulder.

"Merlin?" he calls anxiously, eyes searching. He can see the manservant steel himself as he bends back up to look at Gaius. There is still an echo of pain in his eyes but he seems to be unharmed, and unsurprised by the cruel shock of magic.

This has happened before... The older man thinks. Taking new stock of the warlock's trembling frame; the aftershocks of pain - of torture magic.

As though reading his mind Merlin looks back towards the knife. "In the forest", he murmurs. "I tried but there was so much pain". The warlock clenches his injured hand, wincing slightly. "I didn't know what else to do. I thought, for a moment, that my magic had gone. But I could move the knights, I could bring them all here. Back home. But I can't help them; I can't save Arthur." Exhausted blue eyes move to Gaius' in confusion. "What does it mean?"

Gaius' mind reels as he tries to piece together what he knows. Shaking his head firmly he returns both hands to the king's chest. "I don't know my boy. But there will be time for that. For now, we must tend to our king. Come, put pressure on the wound, I must figure out how to remove the knife".

Nodding wearily Merlin moves to replace Gaius' hands with his own, the rubies glinting dangerously. Frowning, Gaius pushes Merlin's hands away, the manservant glancing up at him in confusion.

"Gaius?"

"Step back" the older man urges.

Moving away from the table Merlin watches the other man apprehensively, whose eyes are fixed on the knife. As the manservant steps away, the rubies dull in their glow, almost looking as normal as any other but for how the light catches them so strangely.

Beckoning Merlin back, the physician watches as the jewels flare to life once again when the younger man moves close. Something clicks in Gaius' mind, and with a new determination he reaches out to grab the hilt of the dagger firmly.

Merlin starts in shock and moves to push Gaius away, but quickly quiets at seeing the older man's calmness. He is not in pain. The knife has not hurt him.

"The gems" says Gaius, "they glow brighter when you are near." Worry creeps into the physician's voice as he regards his ward. "When I reached out to the knife with my magic I was not harmed. It seems they respond only to your magic, Merlin. That is why you are unable to help."

Silence fell between the two men as they both stared down at Arthur and the vicious blade in his chest.

"It's a wonder that he lives" Gaius says as he begins preparing to remove the knife. "How Morgana managed to miss his heart I do not know. A less-lucky man would have died instantly.

Merlin merely responds with an anxious hum as he watches Gaius about his work, the warlock's pale fingers unconsciously reaching to grip around Arthur's own still ones.

"It is a grave wound, Merlin" Gaius breathes

"But you can save him, Gaius?" Merlin almost pleads with his mentor. "Your magic is not affected by the enchantment, you can heal him"

"My magic is not your magic Merlin, it has its limits. And I fear that I may not be strong enough for this."

A sound close to a whimper escapes Merlin's mouth as he moves to grasp the physician's shoulders.

"Please, Gaius. He has to live. I – " The warlock's head drops as he struggles to find his words, his breaths unsteady.

"He has to live" Merlin whispers, eyes screwing shut tightly.

Wrinkled hands come up to surround the younger man gently, soothing. How many times Gaius has wished in the past weeks that he could hold his boy like this. If only it was in happier circumstances.

"We will do all we can, Merlin. I swear it"

"We…" Merlin murmurs, nodding, before his head snaps up, eyes glinting. "Gaius, we. My magic cannot work against the dagger, but what if my magic was disguised – channeled – through yours?"

The warlock spins around to lean over Arthur, eyes searching the King's face desperately.

"Could it work, Gaius?" he asks.

"I cannot know for sure, Merlin" the physician replies, "it could be at a risk to both of us, and to the king's life". I will do all I can" he repeats. If I do not have the strength, then your plan may be our only hope."

"We have to try" Merlin whispers, his hand coming up to brush the hair gently from Arthur's face.

Nodding resolutely, Gaius steps forwards. "Move out of the way, my boy. Let me help him." Standing over Arthur, Gaius looks up into Merlin's eyes. "If I should need you, I will reach out my hand. Otherwise, you must let me work un-aided. We will need to be swift, as soon as I remove the blade the bleeding will increase. You understand me, Merlin?"

With a quick jerk of Merlin's head Gaius re-focuses his attention to the king. Steeling himself he grasps the hilt of the knife, and pulls. Arthur gasps where he lies on the table, breathing laboured.

Throwing the knife to the floor Gaius presses both hands down on the wound, summoning all of his strength as he murmurs the healing incantations. Warmth flows through his hands and into the king, and he watches as the bleeding slows to a stop, but the wound does not heal.

Gaius raises his voice as he continues to chant the ancient words, he can feel his strength draining as he pours it into the man below him. It won't be enough. There is too much damage.

Drawing in a harsh breath the old man raises a bloodied hand out to his ward, eyes never leaving the king. In an instant a thin, pale, hand is in his own, and a power like nothing he has ever felt is flowing through him; a river of fire. The physician gasps as the warmth floods his body. He feels light, rejuvenated; his own aches and maladies dissolving away into the torrent of magic pouring through him.

Beneath him Arthur's skin is knitting itself back together seamlessly, the deep wound becoming shallower and shallower, until all that's left is a faint pink scar above his heart. The king sucks in a deep breath before settling peacefully.

The grip on his hand lets go. Gaius blinks, the force of magic within him disappearing instantly, leaving a gentle tingling across his skin and in his fingertips.

Merlin is breathing heavily, and his knees buckle slightly as he stoops over Arthur to check on him. Pale hands run gently over the king's new scar and travel up to stroke softly at the now bruise-free skin around his neck, feeling for a pulse.

The warlock huffs out a sob of relief, head falling to hang between his shoulders as he holds himself up against the table. A small triumphant smile cracks at the corner of his mouth.

"It worked."

Gaius' heart is aching with both relief and sorrow at the sight before him. At the sight of his king saved, and at the sight of what has become of his ward; his apprentice; his son.

"Yes, my boy" the physician agreed, moving over to loop a supporting arm around the young man gently. "But at what cost?"

At this proximity Gaius can clearly see the unhealthy pallor of Merlin's skin. The he dark bruises beneath his eyes, and that peek out from beneath his clothes. He smells of the earth and the forest. Of fever, and blood.

The physician feels Merlin's shoulder's tense at his words, and when he raises his head to regard his mentor his eyes are shuttered.

"I'm fine, Gaius" the sorcerer murmurs as he moves away from the older man, limping stiffly.

"Merlin" Gaius calls after him "I may be old but I'm not a fool. Please, let me take a look at you."

The warlock sighs softly, moving towards the now unconscious knight on the floor. "Gwaine needs your care first, Gaius. And the king."

"Arthur needs rest but he will be fine" Gaius replies firmly, following the manservant towards Gwaine and bending down to take stock of his injuries.

"His shoulder and leg will need re-setting before we can heal them" the physician notes, wincing internally at the unnatural angle of the knight's broken limbs. "Help me to move him"

"Help me to move him"

Nodding, Merlin helps Gaius to lay Gwaine flat, kneeling behind him and propping his shaggy head up on his legs. Merlin holds the knight's neck steady as his mentor attends to his shoulder, offering his hand again silently when the time calls for his magic. He can feel it straining as Gaius pulls on it to heal his friend, it's a deep ache in his bones and his chest; a faint parody of today's earlier agony when he'd tried to aid the knights alone. Now that the adrenaline has faded, he feels emptied; weakened; exhausted. He wants nothing more than to crawl into the bed in the next room – his bed – and curl up for a week.

Black spots cloud Merlin's vision as he hears Gwaine's breathing even out and feels Gaius' grip on his hand loosen.

"-erlin"

He blinks slowly, eyes unfocused.

"Merlin?"

Gaius is looking at him with eyes full of concern, his drooping brows furrowing even more than usual.

"Hmm?" he responds blearily, feeling the world tilt as he topples suddenly to the side.

Warm hands catch him as he falls, keeping him upright. He winces and groans softly as they press against his ribs and the cuts beneath his tunic.

"Come Merlin" his mentor's voice soothes gently, "you need rest".

Quiet moments pass as father and son make their way slowly across the room. Before he can take stock of his bearings Merlin feels the soft give of a mattress beneath him, and he sighs lightly as he allows his body to sink into the comfort. How long it seems since he had something other than the damp ground for a bed.

Awareness is already slipping from him as he feels Gaius carefully taking off his boots and tunic, gentle fingers prodding at the wound on his arm.

He isn't sure if he imagines the horrified gasp from Gaius as his wounds are revealed, and the "oh, my dear boy" that's uttered as someone cards warm fingers through his hair. Sleep is already taking him, and for the first time in weeks Merlin sinks into peace.

Gaius stays up that night, dedicated to checking on his three patients. Gwaine and Arthur, healed seamlessly by Merlin's magic, sleep peacefully and without pain. His ward, however, is a different story. Despite the younger man's obvious exhaustion, his slumber is restless. Sweat beads his brow and he mutters as he moves his dark head from side to side, brows furrowed in pain and distress.

Gaius does all that he can to soothe the young warlock, preparing a myriad of calming potions and compresses. It isn't until the stillness of the witching hour is upon them that Merlin finally settles, lulled into calm by the soft sound of his mentor's voice, and the gentle carding of warm fingers through his hair.

The old physician isn't sure how long he sits there watching his ward. All of his questions and worries for the boy murmuring out of him like a lullaby.

"I wish you would let me help you, my boy. All I want is for you to be safe and happy. Where have you been? Where have you been hiding? Who did this to you? Why did you not come to me sooner? I could have helped – I will always help, until the last of my days"

His questions turn in to positing as he considers the events of the day before, thinking back over Arthur's injury, Merlin's magic and pain, and the knife. That knife. Dread churns in the old man's stomach at the thought of it. Rising silently, he moves back into his chambers to seek out the offending item. There it still sits on his desk where he had flung it after pulling it from Arthur's chest, dried blood staining along the groove of the blade. Even in the gloom of early dawn the rubies glint at him sinisterly.

Gaius picks up the dagger gingerly, holding it close to his face as he inspects the jewels in the hilt. Even without casting his magic he can feel the hum of power beneath his fingers, whispering along his skin and making the hairs on his neck stand on end. Whoever enchanted this used no ordinary magic. Whispers of suspicion begin to tug at the old man's mind.

Placing the weapon back down gently Gaius huffs a soft sigh of relief at the loss of contact. Blinking wearily he shuffles over to stoke the fire, placing fresh water in the pot to brew his favourite morning tea. Once made he makes his way to the stacks of dusty tomes behind his desk, hands clasping the warm beaker of liquid as his eyes flicker across the titles keenly; searching.

Finding the book that he is looking for the physician heaves it over to the table, motes of dust clouding the air in the candlelight. The book's spine creaks as the old man prises it open and wrinkled eyes begin scanning the contents with practiced ease. If there are answers in here then Gaius will find them, he only hopes that his suspicions are wrong.