Set in the second year after the end of the fourth season.

"Before the Great Purge, most members of the Physicians' Guild did not so much dabble in magic as they used many methods of healing, later deemed forbidden, bordering on magic. However, it is known that Gaius, as well as a certain Rufus Godwulf, had small, magical abilities, which they openly used. Godwulf, however, had extraordinary luck. It was the decidedly more talented Gaius, who was the court physician, who attracted general attention and ultimately only he was brought to trial. During the interrogations, he never mentioned Godwulf's involvement in magical practices, probably saving his life in this way".

Elanor Wright

"The Shadow of the Great King"

How I didn't become a physician

The faces of the five men sitting at the long table showed various degrees of reluctance, from "I don't really have anything against you, but others do, so I don't want to stand out", to "I'd love to shove your head in a pile of dung and hold it there until you suffocated". I struggled to keep myself from turning around and looking at Gaius. What the hell? I stood before them and gave it my all, answered every question in the most exhaustive way possible. The questions weren't as hard as I expected and for one brief moment I had hope that I would really make it. But then Rufus Godwulf spoke up, the man with a face expressing deep regret over the existence of cheeky apprentices who wanted to become full-fledged physicians. He spoke in a quiet, concerned tone, and the look he sent Gaius immediately explained the situation to me.

"Young man... We cannot accept most of your answers as correct. Everything you've talked about here is - at best - controversial, and our task is to make sure that physicians start their practice with solid knowledge, based on reliable sources."

He tapped his finger on the thick book lying on the table, bound in brown leather. He looked at his finger with slight astonishment and discreetly wiped it on his tunic. Another member of the esteemed assembly, a certain Aldred Winfrith, sneezed, covering his face with something that looked exactly like a cloth bag of dried herbs.

"Healing people, dear boy, is not a game," continued Rufus, and I barely controlled the urge to do something very rude, like dropping a chandelier on his head. "Just because you think something will work doesn't mean you can test it on patients. Just because your master apparently lets you do such practices doesn't mean we'll tolerate them. That's how all sorts of charlatans act, who don't care about human life. The current state of your knowledge raises serious concerns, so we cannot give you permission to perform this responsible profession. Familiarise yourself with the works of recognised authors and come back in two years."

I closed my eyes for a moment, because the risk that the chandelier would really fall suddenly became too real. How dare you, you filthy rat!? Many people whose relatives you told to prepare for burial recovered under Gaius's care. Many people who were never supposed to get up on their own again are now able to run. Many people who, in your opinion, should have lost their limbs kept them. And you have the audacity to suggest that Gaius is a charlatan?

I straightened up, lifted my chin higher. If they thought they could use me to humiliate Gaius, they had to find out what a big mistake they made.

"With all due respect," I said, looking straight at Rufus, who raised an eyebrow. The youngest among those seated at the table, or at least the one who appeared the youngest, a physician whose name I didn't know, broke away from molding balls from wax scraped of the tabletop and fixed an intrigued gaze on me.

"All the knowledge I've acquired comes from my master, the most reliable source I have access to. I trust him a thousand times more than any books because I observe him at work every day and witness the results. I could bring hundreds of people here whom he has healed. Therefore, I implore you, esteemed Master Rufus, to be more mindful of your words in the future. I believe that suggesting Gaius is a charlatan was unintentional, but nonetheless, I think an apology would be the most... appropriate way to resolve this unpleasant situation."

A striking redness began to creep onto Rufus' face. I heard some movement behind me, likely Gaius rising from his seat. Aldred's eyes narrowed like a cat's. The young physician popped all the wax balls into his mouth, never breaking eye contact with me, and began chewing them. I hoped it was indeed wax scraped from the table. Rufus scrutinized me for a moment with a piercing gaze. I didn't avert my eyes or slouch. Judging by his expression, it was clear that he hadn't expected this.

"Young man," he finally said. Anger vibrated in his voice. "It's commendable that you're loyal to your master, but you're taking too many liberties. I believe your behavior stems from bitterness over our decision, and I'll let it slide, but I advise you to practice emotional control and, above all, not forget your place. Nothing entitles you to address me in such a manner."

Five physicians nodded fervently. The sixth swallowed the balls, which seemed to have gotten stuck in his throat, and rather nervously reached for a cup of water. I knew that what I was about to say would be treading on thin ice, but I wasn't going to let them get away with it.

"There are two possibilities. Either you apologize to my master, or His Highness will hear about how you referred to his court physician. I guarantee you, he won't be pleased."

The silence that followed my words almost pierced my ears. They gaped at me as if I had sprouted a beak and a pair of wings. Gilbert from Rugueux opened his mouth wide, displaying his yellow, oversized teeth that a werewolf wouldn't be ashamed of.

"What a..." began Aldred, but Rufus silenced him with a glare.

"I'm waiting," I said. Behind me, I could feel Gaius' presence. He remained silent, but I didn't need to look to know that he was seething with anger.

"Get out," growled Rufus after a moment. "I don't want to see you here ever again. You're banned for life from the Guild of Physicians, and forget about your eligibility." Then, he shifted his gaze to Gaius. "I warn you, I know things about you that should have you burned at the stake a thousand times over, and it's possible that some of that information may reach the king."

"Just try it," I whispered, locking eyes with Rufus, whose cheeks seemed to have paled a shade. He tried not to show it, but I saw that he was frightened, which, to be honest, surprised me.

"Let's go from here," I said, turning to Gaius. His expression revealed nothing, but deep within his eyes, I glimpsed fear, a reflection of flames that had almost engulfed him several times. I thought he wouldn't speak, but with admirable composure, he said:

"Consider whether you truly want to share your knowledge because, after all, these aren't second-hand pieces of information, are they? And my apprentice will become a full-fledged physician, whether you like it or not. Even if it's the last thing I do in my life."

"Let's go," I repeated.

I took him by the arm, and without looking back, we left the gloomy premises of the Guild of Physicians. The day was beautiful. The May sun shone brightly, and flocks of swifts and swallows circled in the clear sky. Spring was in full bloom, as was the characteristic stench of the city, especially in this area—a mixture whose composition was better left unanalyzed.

"I'm really sorry, Merlin," said Gaius, when we reached the market square. "Rufus has never been fond of me, but I didn't expect him to be so despicable. Thank you. You shouldn't have... I'm afraid as long as Rufus remains the head of the Guild, I won't be able to do anything about your eligibility."

"No one will call you a charlatan or try to intimidate you," I responded sharply. I was seething, my blood rushing in my ears. "A bunch of pompous idiots. I bet even if we combined all their brains into one, they still wouldn't possess your knowledge. They don't measure up to you in any way, Gaius. Your controversial methods... You're ahead of your time, and it drives them up the wall because they can't achieve the same results. They should be happy that they managed to hang their chandelier properly. Although if any of them said one word more, it's highly likely it would come falling, and we would see if there's anything in those empty heads at all."

A chicken bone, tossed by someone and now lying on the ground, cracked under my shoe. I deliberately stepped on it again, but this time, the crunch wasn't satisfying. It didn't provide the appropriate auditory backdrop for the raging, rather violent imagery of broken teeth, smashed noses, and blackened eyes in my head. Gaius stopped and hugged me warmly. He didn't have the opportunity to see me in such a mood too often, but every time it happened, I sensed a bit of fear in him, an almost desperate attempt to regain control of the situation. I felt it now in the way he held me, his hand sliding across my back.

"Thank you," I whispered, reciprocating the embrace. "I don't know who I would become without you."

A few old women selling eggs and cheese watched us with curiosity. They probably thought that some tragedy had occurred. I smiled reassuringly at them, so they wouldn't worry that they had missed something important.

As we crossed the castle gate, a red-haired boy, a servant whom I knew by sight, ran out to greet us. Apparently, he had been waiting nearby because he appeared as soon as he saw us.

"The king and queen are in the garden," he addressed me. "They wish for you to come to them immediately upon your return. That means now."

"I haven't returned yet," I muttered. I wanted to change my clothes, wash my face, and have a moment of peace.

"But I see you here," protested the boy. "You just walked in. And I was ordered to wait here..."

I nodded. "Fine, understood. I'll go to them right away."

I suppressed a sigh. The last thing I wanted now was to listen to Arthur's comments. When he found out that I was planning to take the exam, he fell silent at first, then burst into laughter. For the following weeks, he alternated between sarcastically asking if I had time to prepare or attempting to explain how foolish the idea was and how I would embarrass myself. This morning, he didn't mention it at all; he simply told me to go. Only Gwen wished me good luck, and honestly, it saddened me. Besides Gaius, she was the only one who believed in me, believed that I could do something.

Following the servant's words, I found them in the garden. They lay on a blanket under a lime tree, completely engrossed in each other and didn't notice me. I had no intention of disturbing them. I sat within their view, on a stone bench opposite the dragon fountain from whose mouth water spouted. I stared at it. What an absurdity, dragons don't spew water. But it looked nice in the royal garden, a stone beast, completely harmless and pleasant to the eye. You could rest by it, even fall asleep, and you wouldn't get devoured.

The agitation subsided, replaced by disappointment. Silly, even childish, but I couldn't help it. Of course, I had no intention of abandoning my service to Arthur, but I wanted to obtain the eligibility of a physician. To be more than just Merlin from Ealdor, more than just a sorcerer, more than just Emrys. I wanted to have something that would be my achievement. Not abilities, not magic, but an achievement, the fruit of years of hard work. I cared about it much more than I expected. Gaius was convinced I would succeed. And I did damn well, I knew that, but for some regrettable reason, not only did I not earn recognition, but I was also used to humiliate the man who had become a father to me. Must everything I do end like this? Couldn't something, just this once, go well for me?

I would probably wallow in self-pity for a long time, but through the soothing sound of water, an irritated voice broke through: "Merliiiin!" I muttered under my breath, reluctantly getting up from the pleasantly cool bench and made my way to Arthur and Gwen.

I stood over them, my hands clasped behind my back, trying to maintain the most neutral expression possible. For a moment, both of them looked at me in silence. Their eyes sparkled with happiness, and I felt the urge to leave and not spoil their day with my presence. Next to them stood a basket filled with so much food that it would be enough for a small gathering.

"Are you going to project there?" Arthur finally asked. "You're ruining the view."

"Just tell me what you need, and I'll go," I growled before I could bite my tongue. And that would be the end of not spoiling their day. Apparently, my neutral expression left much to be desired because Arthur's eyes widened, which would have been incredibly amusing in any other situation. Both of them sat almost simultaneously. Well done, Merlin, you couldn't have handled it better. I regretted not having another chicken bone to step on.

"Don't you want to tell us anything?" Gwen asked gently. Dear Gwen. She truly believed that everything would go well.

"Besides what you already know? No."

"What do we know?" Gwen raised an eyebrow. Arthur locked me in one of his intense, shrewd stares. I shook my head. I didn't have the strength for this conversation. It was none of their business. It didn't change anything for them, so they shouldn't be interested, shouldn't pry. Truly, the most important event of my life, worthy of the king's mockery and the queen's sympathy.

"Did you lose your voice? Spit it out," Arthur said. "What made you behave like a sulking princess instead of enjoying becoming a physician?"

Arthur's unwavering certainty that I had officially become a physician gripped my insides like an executioner's pincers and mercilessly tugged.

"You were absolutely right," I replied, struggling to control my voice. "They considered me such an ignorant fool that I was given a lifetime ban from entering the guild."

"What!?" Arthur exclaimed. Gwen sharply drew in a breath.

"That's right. Do you need something?"

"No, but... Merlin..." Gwen reached out her hand, but she was too far away to touch me.

"So, let me to go change and have lunch."

I turned away and quickly made my way towards the castle, feeling that I couldn't bear to be in their presence for another moment. Of course, Arthur wouldn't be himself if he didn't tease me, but he believed in me like Gwen did. Both of them thought that today's exam was a formality and were waiting for me to celebrate. In my mind's eye, I saw the gleam of pride in Arthur's eyes—the same pride he often looked at the knights with. The pincers tugged again.

Arthur and Gwen shouted after me, but I ignored them. It was the last straw.

I managed to spend the afternoon in solitude. Luckily, no one was lingering in the armory, so I occupied myself with polishing Arthur's armor. This activity allowed me to regain my composure, once again accepted that my entire life had to be subservient to magic and only magic, that without it, I was nothing. I wasn't sure if I would dare to boldly defend Gaius or anyone else if I didn't have a natural advantage over people. My mother was a very wise, strong, and courageous woman. But without magic, could I measure up to her? Could my courage even be called courage compared to hers? Was I worth anything as a human — Merlin, not Emrys? The fear that I wasn't had accompanied me for as long as I could remember. I understood Arthur perfectly; I saw my reflection in his eyes like a mirror. I saw him without his crown, and he saw me without magic. And sometimes, as I looked at him, I felt that unlike him, I didn't deserve the power bestowed upon me. Arthur, without his crown, would still be intelligent, capable, and above all, a good person. But me without magic? I don't know. In any case, I certainly wouldn't be a physician.

When I went to the royal chambers in the evening, and after exchanging kind words with the two new guards, who considered it highly inappropriate to open the door to a servant carrying a tray, I finally somehow got inside, I found Arthur sitting at a table with a thoughtful and, it must be said, very regal face.

"Come here and sit down," he said in that serious tone he used when discussing important matters. A shiver ran down my spine. While I was in the armory, anything could have happened. Perhaps Rufus filed a complaint against me, or maybe he followed through with his threat and accused Gaius of something?

I set the tray aside and sat across from him, fixing my gaze on the table. He observed me attentively, and I wished he would stop, wished he would just explain what was going on.

"Gaius told us what happened," he finally said. "And I can't imagine you acting any differently."

Was there a hint of pride in his voice? I looked up at him. He caught my gaze, and between us passed something unspoken, something well-known, comforting, as pleasant as a cat rubbing against one's legs. I breathed a sigh of relief.

"What they did to both of you was despicable. I won't tolerate any insults towards my court physician, and rest assured, Godwulf will be properly reprimanded," he declared.

"They threatened Gaius with accusations of sorcery," I replied, hoping that by mentioning it now, I could prevent any future trouble. Arthur raised an eyebrows.

"I haven't heard about that, but he doesn't have to worry. He has my guarantee that he will never be brought to trial on charges of sorcery again. Besides, I will personally speak with him tomorrow."

"Thank you," I said, trying to ensure that the mischievous voice whispering that it's better late than never wouldn't somehow affect the gratitude I intended to express.

"And as for you... I know you usually forget this, but I'm the king. If Gaius claims you are fit for it, there's no basis to question your abilities, nor any obstacles preventing you from becoming a physician."

It took me a while to comprehend his words.

"Are you serious?" I asked.

He smiled, a sincere yet strangely sad smile.

"Yes, Merlin. I'm serious."

"Thank you. Really, thank you, but no. I will either obtain the eligibility according to the rules or not at all."

"You think the signatures of those six idiots are worth more than mine?" Something changed in the expression on his face, and the smile became noticeably brighter. I smiled too.

"Of course. I see your signature every day. Besides, I don't want to take advantage of any privileges. But there is one thing you could do for me."

I glanced at the tray. I hoped I could manage to wangle something good to eat, maybe one of those delicious-looking pastries? My stomach growled with hunger.

"Oh! No! No! Not that!" I exclaimed in horror as Arthur began to rise slowly, with a face that never promised anything good. "I didn't mean anything about a hug!"

A/n

Ever since this story popped into my head, I couldn't wait to finally write it, translate it and publish it. It took a long time, but I hope you had as much fun reading it as I had writing it. Let me know what you think.