This chapter is dedicated to Merthur_Rules, who wanted to see a bit of insight on what's going on in Merlin's head while all of this was happening on the outside. I hope they enjoyed how I did it! I had lots of fun crafting it together ;p
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It was hard for Gaius to determine which of the two in front of him posed the most danger to Merlin should they discover the meaning behind the Latin words flowing off his tongue. On one hand…it would have been an emotional blow to Merlin when he woke up-if he woke up-and found out Gwen denounced him as her friend after finding out what he was. She'd only asked him what kind of language-ancient Latin-was Merlin speaking, but it felt too close for Gaius to answer truthfully. There was no good reasons as for why Merlin would know something most people would consider a dead language. Only sorcerer's would still used the language, since it was as old and as ancient and entwined with their craft, making their spells easier to cast.
But on the other hand…there was Leon. He worried Gaius more on the physical front…the laws towards witchcraft were crafted to not favor the sorcerer. If Leon somehow recognized the flow of magic itching in Merlin's words-luckily his magic seemed to be too weak for the spell to actually work-then he would have every right to take off Merlin's head. Consort or not, sorcerer's did not get a free pass just because they were important. Leon wouldn't even need a trial. All he had to say was he saw Merlin attempting to perform magic and he would've been given quite a honor celebration for stopping him. But Leon recognizing the words were very unlikely…it didn't stop Gaius from acting with an air of caution. And vowing to keep a close eye on Leon just in case Merlin did anything else suspicious while he was out of it.
"None, it's just the fever taking hold of him. Which means this is only getting worse." Gaius said quickly, probably too quickly, but nobody seemed to catch him in his lie. Gwen let out a soft whimper, whipping her head down to look at Merlin…Gaius felt very little guilt for lying to her. This was Merlin and he would lie straight through his teeth if that's what it took to keep the boy as safe as possible. "None of the words he is saying will be his own. Which means he's probably growing delirious from all the strain his body is undergoing at the moment. I wouldn't try and hold anything he might try to say to heart. Or even bother with understanding. Just nonsense words because his brain cannot put together the right sounds for the correct words."
Gaius pulled all of this out of his arse on the fly, but it seemed to do the trick as both knight and handmaiden nodded to show their understanding. Gaius allowed a puff of relieved breath to escape him, thankful for his quick thinking to cover up Merlin's arse if he tried saying more spells. Though what spell work the boy could have been trying to weave together was going to be a complete and utter mystery to him. It sounded as if the other had been trying to complete a scrying spell? Something that's notoriously difficult when one was focused, yet alone when the person casting it was doing it in their sleep. It was no wonder it hadn't actually work, only the highest level of sorcerer's got to cast such a spell with little difficulty. Merlin might have power behind his spells, but he didn't have the experience needed to execute it.
Scrying spells were meant for watching others, tracking down people who didn't want to be found. All one really needed was a basin of water-like the one Gwen had near her feet and close to the underside of Merlin's bed-and something from the one they were trying to look into. Blood was something that would work best, families could track down missing members if they used their own blood. But other things could be used…objects once held by the person, a lock of hair, something this person had some kind of connection too, or you were liable to look in on the first person the spell came across. You needed to have that connection to keep the flow of magic ebbing between the basin of water and the spell caster. Take Merlin for example…if he had been trying to say-look in on Arthur, for the lack of him thinking of anybody else who wasn't already in the room-then Merlin could have used his wedding ring as a connector. It was still there on his finger, going slightly purple around the edges as if Merlin's fingers were swollen. The ring would have been a perfect conductor, since it was not only given to him by Arthur but because there was so much feeling connected to it. Even if that emotion was the hatred Merlin must have for Arthur it was still something.
What Gaius couldn't understand was the second part Merlin'd been trying to cast…Woroldare forgeaf. That almost sounded as if it could've been a very advanced lighting spell. A spell the physician knew wasn't just going to cast the same light a torch would. But a spell that was meant to chase away the darkness and the shadows…keep one safe within the glowing bubble of its light. Gaius had never once heard those two spells used in the same spell…they were too different and had no connection to the other. So, what the hell was Merlin trying to do by trying to cast two very different, very foreign spells…perhaps it really was just the delirium settling in. Perhaps Merlin had only read these two spells from his spell book, and now he was holding onto whatever little he could grasp in his mind. Gaius was only able to imagine the mess going on in that skull right now…
Gaius' eyes fell on something he hadn't been expecting to see, or at least not something he'd been expecting to see so early into Merlin's illness. And Gaius' entire chair shook violently as he jerked forward, snatching up Merlin's left arm. The ring was now of little interest to him, as he got a closer look at the dark, half circular red discoloration on Merlin's wrist. Gaius jerked the black sleeve of Merlin's formal tunic up further-it was a good thing his fractured wrist was the other arm, or Gaius might have missed this with all of the white bandages and wrappings put around it-revealing the rest. This large rash greeted them, revealing it to be a complete circle…it almost looked as if somebody had tried taking a bite out of Merlin's wrist. Though the width was much wider than a human mouth would have been able to do.
"What is that?" Gwen demanded, the horror in her voice clear as a bell, as Leon leaned over her to study every detail he was able to see pertaining to that horrible rash. Gwen had seen far too many rashes in her life, thousands of different kinds and all of them had needed something different in order to heal. But it was especially common-too common-to see them as peasants were prone to getting all kinds of diseases. It was just a simple fact, since the lower town was not nearly as clean as the castle itself was. But she could not say she had ever seen a rash that deep a red, nor that perfect of a circle. It was eerie. "Gaius, tell me you know what those markings mean!"
Gwen's voice had gone high pitch in terror, as if she had seen Merlin just taking his last breath in front of her. But Gaius was not listening to her, focusing intensely on the rash. Since their prince had left, with promises of helping Merlin and doing the right thing, Gaius had studied every last thing he could find on this specific poisoning. So he would know what to expect and get together some kind of a treatment plan. But things weren't happening as they were supposed to. This rash wasn't meant to be there, nor should Merlin's pulse-barely beating beneath his fingertips-be going so slow. Sluggish. As if it was taking all it had just to beat as much as it was. It unsettled Gaius, more than anybody would ever know.
"This rash isn't meant to appear until the final stages…till the body is starting to shut down." Gaius said, sounding detached to his own ears. Ignoring the way Gwen let out a horrid gasp as she rose a hand up to cover her mouth, and Leon's extremely low curse under his breath, the physician stood up and hurried across the room to where he had left his book open across the table. The flower petal sketching greeted him but Gaius picked up the little magnifying glass he often had to use to get these tiny words big enough for him to see. "It says right here…once a rash appears, then death will follow within two days time."
There was an unsettled silence that filled the room, and not a soul knew how they were supposed to react to news that were this horrible. Gaius didn't look back at them, carefully lowering his magnifying glass back onto the table. His hand was almost shaking…perhaps it wasn't a good idea for physicians to work on their own relatives. Maybe a day would come where there'd be enough healers in the world that somebody else could have easily taken over. Because Gaius was not prepared for this. He had trained for decades to be where he was now. Worked with cases that were more daring and daunting and hands on than this one was. But none of those cases had his nephew spread out in front of him….none of his training and experience made
him anymore ready for a day such as this…
"Tell me, Gaius? What has changed in the last few hours?" the knight by Merlin's bedside demanded. He had sworn to Arthur that his consort would live when he returned, but nobody had expected for things to take such a sudden turn to the worse of it. The unspoken 'what if Arthur doesn't make it within the two days, or takes his time because he thinks he's on schedule for four days' seemed to hover daringly in the air. Just waiting for somebody to be dumb enough to ask, though nobody did ask either. "Four days doesn't just shave down to two unless there has been some kind of interference to make it. So tell me what has happened and what we can do to slow it back down."
If only it was that easy, Gaius thought as his brows furrowed in the center of his forehead in thought. He seriously doubted his nephew could be worsening because of his lack of eating once again. That explained why he had passed out so sudden, but it wouldn't explain how it was progressing so fast. Unless there's another component Gaius hadn't thought of…unless…the aged physicians skin color turned a chalky white as this idea struck him in the head. It wasn't one that had came earlier because the idea of it was so preposterous, and there was never any indicator to suggest that was what had happened. But with Merlin's rash, it seemed to fall neatly into place. Too neatly.
"Something strong and powerful has managed to increase the potency of the flower." Gaius said, confidence brimming in his voice with his deduction as he turned back around to face the other two hovering over Merlin's prone body. Both waited with bated breath for what Gaius was going to say. "Unfortunately, I can still do very little without having the flower Arthur is meant to bring us. But I can tell you with the upmost certainty…effect from the mortaeus flower can become more rapid if somebody used an enchantment when they were preparing the flower. It's not something that can be done accidentally. This is obviously a magical attack, meant to quicken time before help can arrive to save him. Whoever did this was methodically and planned it out, probably to the detail. Hell, I wouldn't be surprise if Merlin was the actual target and this whole putting it in Arthur's own cup was merely some kind of game to them."
The idea wasn't a particularly fond one Gaius wanted to admit, to know his nephew had somehow ended up on the radar of a person so sadistic. For nobody could tell Gaius this person had not planned this out with sadism in their heart. They'd chosen a poison that would not only kill Merlin, but make him suffer for days on end. Make him wish he were dead as his organs would start to shut down one at a time. A poison that brought hellfire straight to Merlin's doorstep…it wasn't all that long ago-maybe a month-Gaius had told his nephew he hoped he hadn't ended up becoming noticed after shredding apart Nimueh's decision to knock the entire kingdom onto its knees. But there wasn't any telling who Merlin could have pissed off enough that they would have gone searching for this particular poison-it wasn't something one could just pick up in any spot-and Merlin most definitely had made some enemies in his time here. It could've been anybody who Merlin had jilted-even accidentally-in some way or the other.
"What! But that's absolutely insane! Merlin is the sweetest guy I have ever met! What makes you think would want to try to kill him on purpose!" Gwen exclaimed loudly, nearly shaking at the mere idea of this being a deliberate attack on Merlin. It made a cold chill go down her spine…she couldn't imagine any person meeting Merlin and then deciding to kill him. "I don't mean any disrespect towards Arthur, but he's the prince! Why would any person choose to go after Merlin when the heir of the kingdom would have been bigger? Arthur's the one with the power! And Merlin is just…he's just Merlin!"
Gaius could see Merlin being pleased to be referred to as 'just Merlin', the boy had complained many times about people not using his name and instead referring to his title. But it was also a smart question…why go after Merlin when the prince himself would have caused the most political damage. But then again, if Gaius looked at this through the eyes of the stranger…there was only a handful of people who knew the truth behind Merlin and Arthur's relationship. And half of those people were in this room…Gwen was probably the only one involved with all of this that didn't know how Merlin and Arthur came to be. So clearly the person doing this would've been under the same delusions as the mass population of the city. Somebody who also had a hand in magic…
"Perhaps they think by killing Merlin, they'll be hurting Arthur. It could be their attempt at making the kingdom weaker, trying to break Arthur if they think somebody he loves dying could do the job." Gaius suggested, though the idea sounded ridiculous now that he said it out loud. And Gwen clearly knew it was also a ridiculous statement. Gaius sighed, she was smart enough to know there was no love there. Even if she didn't know anything to do with the details. "We aren't thinking like us, I am trying to put us in the minds of the killer. They might believe it. But they might also think killing Merlin will relieve Arthur of the burden of his consort. We all know how the people in the village view Merlin. It could've been an assassination attempt to get Merlin away from the royal family."
This was as good as a theory as any other…some people were just so deranged, they could not be reason with. Air escaped from Gwen's mouth in a whoosh, referring to this as the clear assassination attempt it was, was clearly more scarier than the boy being an unfortunate victim. It wasn't hard to imagine that some wayward individual out there, had decided Arthur would need him to kill Merlin in order to be free. Some people, Gaius thought, seemed to think Merlin had tricked or trapped Arthur in this marriage somehow. And if somebody was on the wrong side of deranged….they might have decided to take it into their own hands. Instead of allowing 'Arthur' to suffer anymore from being forced to deal with Merlin. Unaware of it being the other way around…Merlin suffering with Arthur.
"An assassin that also has their hand in magic? That would be a major coincidence…somebody wanting to kill Merlin having a means to do so? But…" Gwen hesitated, biting onto her bottom lip as if she wasn't entirely sure her input or suggestion would be welcome. She was here to assist, not put her own thoughts into the barrel. But Gaius nodded his head encouragingly, he'd be more than willing to welcome anything that could have him figure out this mystery before it's too late. "You don't think the other king…Bayard. You don't think Bayard is the one who did all of this, do you? I don't know much about magic, but I don't think Bayard is a sorcerer, is he?"
Gwen had phased this like a question, but Gaius knew it wasn't any question. She was just speaking her own observations and they were true. Bayard wasn't any sorcerer, which meant none of Mercia had anything to do with this. It was something Gaius had wondered about, and now that Gwen had put it out there…he felt more surer than ever. He was almost positive the Blue King and his men were used as nothing more than pawns, just as Arthur's cup had been the one the poison was in. All of this was meant to throw them off the track of the real person, and this meant…it had to be somebody nobody would think to look twice at during these circumstances. But who…who had some kind of grudge for Merlin/fascination for Arthur/enough access to slip the petal into the goblet/and a hand for magic…he could feel the answer brimming on the tip of his tongue though not a substantial word escaped him.
"Don't doubt yourself, Gwen. Your instincts seem to be spot on, as I've came to the same conclusion myself." Gaius said, and watched as a brim of pink peeked out from Gwen's dark skin, across the bridge of her nose. It wasn't often a servant was praised, so she was most likely soaking it up before she had to return to her ordinary duties. Gaius was happy being able to foster the minds of others, believing everybody should have a means to be educated. It was probably why he focused so much on supplying Merlin with the endless books he had in his collection. There was nothing like it in the world, watching the excitement brimming in his nephew when he learned a new fact. He only hoped Merlin would have many years to learn all the new things he wanted, "I don't think Bayard has an ounce of magical infinity in his little finger, yet along somebody who's powerful enough to enhance the potency of this flower. That is very complex magic. Very few people would have the skills one needed to cast it."
In fact, there was only one person in all the kingdom he knew of that had that kind of power, and could harness it as well as what would be needed here…and Gaius felt his face draining of color. No…surely she would not be dumb enough to have came all the way here…surely she would not have been so dumb she would risk entering Camelot on her own. But Gaius just wasn't able to see Nimueh sending somebody else in her steed to do her dirty work, not after Merlin had taken care of her beast all those weeks ago. But Nimueh did tick off all the boxes…Merlin 'had' caught her attention by doing what he has. And she most likely carried a fascination for Arthur, considering the details of the prince's birth very few knew of…but to come here! He was not able to get the idea of Nimueh walking around the streets of Camelot as if she had nothing to fear. But then again…she'd know every tunnel and secret passage in the castle. She knew all the ways to get in and out unnoticed…unless she had done something-some kind of spell-to make herself go unnoticed.
"Wait, are you really saying what I think you're saying? That we have a killer walking around the halls. And it's not the one that is already sitting in our cells?" Leon demanded, putting himself into their conversation. His voice was incredulous, and he was not able to fault the other knight for this, as Gaius was forced out of his horrid thoughts. It would be off-putting to Gaius too, if he didn't know the things he knew. It would be easier and far safer-possible war and all-for Bayard to take the blame. Then it would've been to go after Nimueh, who had more strength in her pinky finger than an entire army of knights. "Tell me, how'd you know the difference between a sorcerer and not a sorcerer to begin with? Since they can blend into the crowds so easily…are you sure you're not just trying to stop Bayard from taking a blame for his part in this? Some misguided attempt to stop the war coming to our doorstep?"
Leon waved his hand towards Gaius, as if to try indicating his point. But Gaius could also hear the wavering in Leon's voice…this was a sure sign of Leon's unsettledness for magic. A sign of what growing up in Camelot did. It would have been hard to find anybody within their boarders who would be comfortable with talking about magic in the open like this. Even just talking in Gaius' chambers didn't stop how unsettling it was. If Gaius was remembering correctly, Leon was a few years older than Arthur. And the Great Purge towards Magic had started only a few weeks later. Leon might've been old enough to remember the chaos of those days, but young enough to not have a real memory of magic being used freely in the streets. To entertain and play with and make things sprout out of nothing…until all of the propaganda claiming one had to put their soul into the hands of the devil to have magic started up.
"I can assure you that I have been alive for longer than both of you combined. And I can remember times neither of you have ever known. Magic was not always outlawed." Gaius said, as he straightened his spine to make himself appear taller. Not many people liked to think of a time before the Great Purge, and the few people who managed to survive till things started to get calmer once many sorcerer's no longer roamed the streets did not dare talk about what enjoyment they may have gotten from seeing spells casted before their eyes. Fireworks being lit from little hands. Flowers blooming long before they were meant to open. A healing touch from somebody who could help when a normal remedy did no good. "That's precisely why I know that Bayard is not a sorcerer. I have only seen him a few times but I think I would have noticed. Besides, something about this has felt off this entire time. Bayard being the sorcerer has not sat well with me since the start."
But Nimueh, Gaius finished silently in his head, returning to the thoughts he'd been having before he had been interrupted by Leon. He could feel the 'rightness' settling into his bones. It was something he couldn't deny or ignore, something he knew was right even if every other person in the world said he could not possibly right. This rightness was accompanied by a horrid chill…he had a feeling he knew how Nimueh would have been able to move around the castle undetected. After all, had he or had he not thought there was something off about the Mercian serving girl Merlin had attached himself too? He had thought it was because the woman was clearly flirting with his naive and innocent nephew-who didn't see the viper for what it was-only hiding behind red coated lips instead of grass. And now that it was in his head…Gaius could vaguely recall Nimueh not going anywhere-back when she had been a friend to the kingdom as a whole-without putting her rouge lipstick on. It appeared not even twenty years could change an old woman's habit…but the woman was no old woman. Not the beautiful woman Gaius had seen…but Nimueh had always been vain. A simple spell would have hidden any signs of her aging, and Gaius would not have considered the vague resemblance he remembered to actually be an exact look alike to the Nimueh of the past.
"Okay, okay. So if we're all agreeing that Bayard isn't the real culprit behind all this, then do we have any theories on who it could really be? We can't do anything if we don't have them in front of us." Gwen said, holding both hands in the air to get her attention from the boys. A bit more confidence in her voice as she looked between the two of them. But she must have seen something in Gaius…a flicker of his eyes or his contemplative expression, because she turned her attention fully onto him. "I see that look, Gaius. Is there something you're not telling us? I know you must have some idea on who could have done this."
Gaius played around for a moment, rolling his thoughts around and around in his head. It wasn't as if he could tell them who'd done this. There was too much history behind Nimueh, far too much the king would not want him revealing to just anybody…too much for Gaius to even get into. He wouldn't know where to even start his explanation of Nimueh. Besides, the less they knew about the woman hiding behind her seductive smile, the safer they would be. Nimueh might try and target them if they got themselves too involved in her schemes. No, it was best to not mention Nimueh at all. But luckily for Gaius, she did have a persona Gaius could use.
"Gwen, do you recall seeing a young woman in the grand hall this evening?" Gaius asked, turning his focus on the maid. The physician knew if anybody else had seen Nimueh tonight, then it would've been her. Leon would have been sorely focused on the banquet, and a Mercian serving girl wouldn't have caught his eye. But Gwen would have been paying attention to other servants…people she could talk with on the sidelines while she waited for Morgana to need her. But Gwen only tilted her head in confusion…there had been a dozen or so Mercian girls doing their best to work the party. Gaius needed to give more detail, but not so much it would reveal he knew more about her than he was letting on. "Merlin walked out during the festivities and I saw him meeting with one of the Mercian serving girls as the doors were closing. Did you also notice him leaving with her?"
This seemed to strike a cord in Gwen, her eyes going foggy as she drew back on her memories of earlier this night. It seemed as if her memories were clouded over, everything surrounding this night being nothing but terror and fear that ended with her friend collapsing on the floor. But yet…she remembered all the long dark hair poking out from the other girl's turban. The pale skin as she turned to meet with Merlin. The wide eyes looking to resemble a startled deer…Gwen held onto this memory with all her might. Refusing to let go of it…not if this woman carried the key to helping Merlin. Carried the key to preventing full on war from breaking out. Gwen would never be able to live with herself if everything happened just because she wasn't able to give an adamant description of the girl.
"I remember her. Her dark hair was flawless, and she was very beautiful. It's hard not to miss her. She was stunning." Said the handmaiden, voice solemn. When there was a serving girl who walked around like that, people tended to notice. Gwen's own hair was a frizzy mess, always held out of her face with a piece of rope or cloth, because she didn't have access to the kind of products Morgana got to use daily. Her skin wasn't as clean as it could've been, though she did try her best, because there is very little she could do. Even the other girl's dress looked as if it was better made than the one Gwen was wearing. "She was able to stand out. You don't see serving girls like that walking around pouring drinks and handling out food."
Gwen hated to think about this of anybody, but a servant that much put together, usually had a reason to be. As if she had a noble who favored her, and gifted her with trinkets that others wouldn't be given. Cleansers and better clothes and…things a person would get if they were putting out for the lord. And not afraid to do things only a married couple should do because it got them nice and pretty stuff. But Gwen was sure that wasn't the case. She would never cast judgement on somebody else who decided to do things she would never have the courage or will to do if her life depended on it. Just the thought made her want to cover herself up a bit more.
"Am I the only one who does not understand what this is about right now? As Merlin's sole protector, I need to know all of the possible threats to his safety." Leon growled, reminding them he was only here for one reason. And he'd clearly grown tired of being the only one out of the loop. Gwen and Gaius shared a look, and Leon glanced between the both of them with sharp eyes. "Well? Who this girl? The one you are speaking about. I'll need to know what her connection to Merlin is. Why you seem to think she's performing magic. And why would a serving girl go after Merlin to begin with? Your early theories make sense only if it's somebody from Camelot. But Mercia would have no reasons to assassinate Merlin if they think they are freeing him from Arthur. I suppose it could always be their attempt to force the castle weaker, as your other theory dictates…"
Gaius hesitated, knowing Leon might be able to pick up that he was holding a few things back. But he could hardly deny Leon any information that could potentially shield Merlin from anything else damaging. Besides, though he really doubted it, if Nimueh showed up here, it would be good for Leon to know a few things. Just so he wasn't caught off guard of unprepared for the type of fight one had when being attacked by a majorly powerful high priestess. Leon was a great knight, but he would hardly be any match for her…running and hoping she wouldn't find him was probably the only way Leon could escape without dying.
"She was somebody Merlin met earlier this morning." said the physician, reaching up so he could pinch at the bridge of his nose as hard as he dared. He could already feel the sick trying to churn in his guts…the memory of Nimueh falling at Merlin's feet as she dropped her belonging's-a clever ruse to get any boy wanting to play savior-burning in his mind. It sickened him to know Nimueh was right there, right in front of him. Talking to Merlin, smiling at him…clearly interested in far more than a friendly conversation between two peasants. And Gaius hadn't known. Merlin was in danger back then, and he. Hadn't. Known about it. "I thought she behaved strangely, but bruised it off as an old man's worries for his nephew. Merlin seemed taken with her though. But I can see now, it was no coincidence that she's gone out of her way to meet him. Probably another part of this plan of hers…get Merlin to trust her before the big plan. Before the banquet. Maybe I'm just trying to think of other people that could've done this, maybe she doesn't really have magic and I am simply overthinking it. But…she was the last one that spoke to Merlin before everything blew up. So I at least think she will be a person of interest. If anything, we can at least figure out if she's this 'informant' Merlin was talking about."
Leon stayed silent for several long minutes, committing what little information Gaius had managed to give him, to mind. But Gaius knew, despite what he had said, that he wasn't thinking too much about anything. This was the work of Nimueh. Gaius definitely hadn't expected the other woman to come back and land another attack so soon after the first, but that would have been a reason for Gaius to expect it. That was what had made Nimueh so powerful, her ability to think outside the box and do what no others could. But Gaius kept a steady eye on Leon just to make sure he hadn't grown suspicious, or sensed that Gaius hadn't told the whole truth. But Leon eventually nodded, none the wiser about the truth.
"Then we will need to inform the king immediately. He will have to be informed there might be a potentially powerful sorceress in the cells right this moment. So we can prepare our soldiers to have her removed to stand trial before the king so he will be able to decide her fate. Though I highly doubt King Uther shall do anything less than an execution." Leon decided, but the old physician knew that wasn't going to be enough. Knew that the priestess would see them coming…she had probably planned for ending up in the dungeons. Or not, there was every chance she could've slipped away while Mercia was being rounded up, she had always been a slippery fella. But he doubted having a normal execution would be enough to stop Nimueh. She's too wicked, too involved in the dark arts…probably knew how she could resurrect herself if needed. They would need to rip all of her limps off her one by one, and scatter them across the five great kingdoms, so it would be impossible for her to find all of herself again, just to keep her from hurting people. "But I can't leave the Consort's side, per the prince's instructions. Perhaps I can have some of the knights summoned down here and ask for the king to come here and hear us out…"
Leon was half talking to himself with this last statement, and he was already heading towards the door. Preparing to poke his head out to see if anybody would be passing by who was able to deliver his upmost important message. And Gaius was able to feel the panic swelling his throat tight. Uther was quite the smart man, but he forever lived in denial. The second the king caught wind that Gaius was holding back, the second he mentioned Nimueh's name at all, the King would only end up shutting down completely. Nimueh was Uther's biggest secret and hugest regret…he had been confident he had chased her from the kingdom all those years ago. And he was confident it was Arthur-and not Merlin-who had reminded Nimueh just last month that Camelot was too strong to fall under the spells of a witch. Uther wouldn't even hear another word from them, and dealing with Uther's denial would only end up damaging Merlin as they wasted time on him.
Uther Pendragon couldn't know…not until there was actually something other than just theories to tell him.
"No!" Gaius practically wrenched from his mouth, with a hand up in a half aborted motion as if he was seriously going to try and stop him from physically leaving. But it seemed to do the trick well enough, because Leon paused and looked back. As if he was silently-him and Gwen both-asking why he didn't want Uther to be involved. But they didn't understand…they would not know bringing Uther into this would be far more dangerous than if they tried to light Merlin on fire themselves with nothing but a candlestick. The physician cleared his throat roughly and dropped his hand, "Uther is a very busy man. And we have no idea if Nim-the woman is even down there to begin with, or if she managed to escape. We'll have nothing but a theory with no facts to back it up. This will need to stay between the three of us until Merlin wakes up and can confirm it being the same girl I'm thinking of. Or we do find her and can get some kind of confession out of her. Uther will not act otherwise."
Leon looked as if he was going to protest for just a hot minute there, opening his mouth as if to explode 'of course Uther was going to help.' Because a man like Leon could not understand 'not' going straight to the king when he had news that was this important. But maybe he saw the seriousness in Gaius face, or saw how Gaius wasn't going to change his mind on the matter, no matter what Leon actually told him. Leon closed his mouth back with a sharp clink of teeth, looking decidedly put out with this decision. But Gaius was just relieved it wasn't going to end up being more of a fight, and turned to Gwen.
"Guinevere, you are the only one that can leave right now. I've got to stay here in case Merlin has anymore reactions towards the poisoning. And Leon has got to stay here as well, because of the vow he made towards Arthur. But you can move around the castle." Gaius said urgently, deciding on a second plan that'd be infinitely more safer, without consulting the other two. The priestess would never see a simple maid coming. And while he meant it as a compliment, Gwen being able to do way more without drawing attention to herself, able to use the invisible status the servants usually carried around them like a shield, Gwen heard instead how useless she was here. How somebody else could easily mop up the sweat on Merlin's skin. That it doesn't take any real noticeable skill, so she was free to go. "I need you to go down to the cells, and make sure she isn't down there. You will be able to recognize her far better than any knight would with a base description."
Gwen…supposed this was actually a good reason for her to be the one to go…if only to avoid the whole drama of having every dark haired beauty brought to these chambers to get a 'no, it's not her.' But still…Gwen could feel her throat closing up at her assignment. The cells…the cells…the cells where she herself had been imprisoned not nearly long enough ago. She wasn't able to say for sure how she was going to react…this was like facing her trauma all over again. Seeing the place where she'd almost breathed her last. Seeing the patch of hay she had laid out on, unable to sleep because she was positive she'd end up dragged out at any given moment. Seeing the shackles they'd attached to the walls, the shackles that had held her in place so she couldn't even touch the only friends-Morgana and kind Merlin-who had visited. It…Gwen had sworn she would never go down there again. Had sworn to put that part of her life far behind her and never look back…which probably wasn't going to be considered the healthiest choice. People needed to face what they were afraid of-as Gaius had told her during a talk of theirs when she had first gotten released and didn't know how to conduct herself…everything had seemed so different after it all. As if she had left a piece of her innocence behind when her father had helped her up the stairs-in order to move on.
But she didn't know if she could move on.
And…
Gwen would have given anything to not have to do this. But all it took was one look at Merlin-so frighteningly still, not shaking any longer as the fever on his skin grew darker-for her to nod and hurry from the room in a swirl of her skirts. Merlin may not need her here-she thought as the door shut behind her-but he still needed her. And as Gwen hurried down the hall, she knew she would do whatever she had to do to rise up and meet that need. Because Merlin needed her, in ways he had never had to need anybody else in the castle. What was the point of Merlin going out of his way, of saving HER-as if she had been actually worth saving, and not just one of the many girls that would be forgotten once they'd past on-if nobody saved him in return.
She was only returning the favor.
She only hoped she wasn't making a huge mistake by going…
X
"Are you sure it's the wisest thing for Gwen to go all that way on her own?" Leon asked the second the door had floated shut as he whipped back around to face Gaius. The worry crease in his brow was deep, but Gaius knew it was only because Leon saw a serving girl who was delicate and needed help and could not do the job a knight would be better suited for. But the wise old physician did not see things the same way… "If this woman is really as powerful as you make her out to be, it's only right if somebody with the right skillset would be able to fight her off from the start and subdue her. Gwen won't be able to do that, it's probably putting her life in danger to send an unarmed girl into the fray."
But perhaps, Gaius considered, an unarmed girl was exactly what they needed. Nimueh was an arrogant woman at heart, a creature who could hold life and death in each hand and come out the other side without a scratch on her. A knight would not scare her, but she would be easily fooled by a maid. Not being able to see the threat Gwen carried with her…it wasn't going to be the normal threat. Leon was right, Gwen wouldn't be able to defend herself proper. She couldn't punch or wield any kind of weapon or cut Nimueh in half without feeling like her world had just fallen apart after claiming a human life. But Gwen could lie easier than any knight. Knights were cocky and used muscles and skills to excert themselves. But Gwen was a servant, and all servants had learned to placate the higher ups to avoid any punishments, if the noble was inclined. Gwen didn't have need for the skill much, considering Morgana was her mistress, but no servant-no matter how long they've had the protection of a kind mistress-ever forgot the skills they were taught to utilize as a surviving method.
Even if Gwen preferred being as honest as she could.
The girl was probably much too good for this world, and here Gaius was, using that goodness for his own agenda. It almost felt as if he was sacrificing Gwen at the altar, her dress ripped open to reveal her ripe breasts to the room, an occult symbol drawn in the cleavage with blood from a goat, just before the physician plunged a dagger into her heart. Sacrificing her soul in order for Hectate, goodness of magic, to spare some of her light onto helping Merlin. But…Gaius had to know if Nimueh-if Cara, as her persona had announced itself as-was still far too close for comfort.
Some people might underestimate how truly desperate Gaius was to know if Nimueh was still hanging around. He wouldn't be able to rest for a single moment if he thought there was a real chance of her stepping through that door. Didn't know if he would be able to protect his nephew if she came storming in, looking to finish whatever her master plan was. Didn't know if he could ignore the temptation to wrap Merlin up and carry him somewhere nobody would be able to find him until he was once again healthy and whole. But…there was nowhere within the entire kingdom they could go, that Nimueh wouldn't find or follow them too.
It was like being a sitting duck, just waiting around until some hunter came across them. Waiting for the hunter to draw back the drawstring of its bow, for the arrow to fly, and for the duck itself to fall back as blood gushed from his eye. This scenario was frightening for Gaius, because he knew Merlin and him are meant to be the ducks. And Nimueh…Nimueh was the hunter who had something much more efficient than bows and arrows at her disposal to use. But Gaius didn't let any of this show on his face, lest Leon started asking him uncomfortable questions he would not be able to answer.
"You shouldn't worry about things. Gwen is a big girl and I am sure she will return as soon as she's done looking. She doesn't need to engage with the sorceress, only see if she's down with the other servants, masquerading as one of their own beneath their own noses." Gaius said, with his ever calming, confident smile. Leon still didn't look too convinced, but he was willing to stop protesting for now. His only concern was for Merlin, after all-which was why he returned to standing beside the head of his bedside as if he was some shadow guardian, protecting the boy put in his charge-and he couldn't let the whims of a young girl who had went voluntarily, distract him from that. Gaius was content to take his own seat at Merlin's bedside where Gwen'd been earlier, hiding his inner turmoil as he continued, "But until she returns with any information for us, I suppose our job shall be to watch over Merlin. As we should be doing."
And Gaius, not looking up at Leon to see if he was taking their job as serious as Gaius was-he knew he would be, as diligent with his 'protect Merlin' duties as he would be with any other duty thrown at him-and picked up the used cloth resting along the brim of the water basin. He dipped it into the water and did Gwen's former duty, mopping the new layer of sweat trying its damn hardest to fester and grow along his nephew's skin. And it would probably be prudent for Gaius to put some cream over Merlin's self inflicted injuries and re-wrap his fractured wrist to be sure the old injuries wouldn't get new infections from this.
He and Leon didn't say another word on the subject.
Not even when Merlin, fitful little thing that he was in his horrid state, whimpered. And less loose a restless, "Arthur…sto…" the physician simply doted more on his nephew. Wiping under his chin at the buildup of sweat causing his tunic to stick to every bone he had. He wasn't sure if he should be grateful or not…he could have been attempting to cast more spells in his sleep -which would've been impossible, since one needed to be fully aware of what they were doing if they wanted a spell to land as correctly as it should be. But now, Merlin was apparently being forced to live through nightmares of Arthur. Without the hope of waking up to escape from it all…
X
Merlin Pendragon would just like to say…he didn't know where the hell he was. Or where he was going. Or what happened to him…everything had been dark for the longest time. Shadows surrounding him, cloaking his body from the dangers of what lay in the outside world. He didn't know how long he had been out of it, how long he had been floating with his own thoughts muted as to not disturb him. But things have changed, they'd shifted…and Merlin didn't know why. He wanted to go back to the darkness, to coward and hide as the coldness of it brushed along his naked skin. Freezing him from the inside out but also embracing him in a way he desperately craved.
Embarrassingly so…
"Hello…" Merlin called out, the darkness had lightened up but it had done no good. There was nothing but fog around him…it was nothing but endless, endless fog. Dense and thick enough he could have cut through it with a knife, heavy enough that it touched along his body as he waded through it. And maybe he should have been a little more concerned about wearing not a single stitch as he wondered about. The ground didn't hurt his feet as he walked without his boots, so he was sure he was not walking on dirt and grass and stones. Goosebumps-or it could have been goosebumps but he wasn't sure because it did not feel real-formed on his forearms. And the oddest part…feeling his cock swaying with every step he took. Most people would have been freaking out if they woke up naked as the day they were born, and with no idea where they were. But all that was somewhere in the back of his mind. In the place his panic was usually hiding, waiting for Merlin to accept things he would not ever want to think about. Because thinking of those things was only meant to hurt. To destroy. To kill. And Merlin was sure that all of those things would be focused on him. So Merlin kept on walking, calling out into the fog, "Is anybody there? Anybody…can you help me?"
But nobody's voice came from the endless fog, but that wasn't surprising. Even if somebody had been there, Merlin was sure they would be trying to use the fog as some sort of cover. As a means of hiding themselves away so that wouldn't have to end up involved with Merlin more than just sharing a space. He was used to strangers not wanting to help him. It was better to stay hidden than have them spitting at his wiggling toes. So…Merlin did what he did best. And he kept walking, this fog couldn't go on forever and ever, right? There had to be an ending he would come across…right?
RIGHT!
But Merlin was starting to doubt that, because he was sure he had walked for hours and hours already. Perhaps for an entire day and night, though the fog never changed colors so he was not sure about the timeframe. But twenty four hours of walking sounded about right at this point…twelve at the least. But what the real kicker was…Merlin wasn't even tired. He didn't feel the need to sit down and rest for a moment. Nor did he feel like his feet were aching, as one would expect when they were walking all day long. Maybe this was what happened to people like him who died…
All the air escaped his lungs in a whoosh-but was it really air…he didn't think dead people could breathe-and it felt as if his head was splitting in two. Merlin cried out, grabbing onto his skull. But the rush of memories coming to him was too strong and too powerful. They refused to be ignored, the images that came to him to quick for Merlin to catch more than little bits or pieces here and there. He remembered a party…elegance and refinery. He remembered a harsh touch between his legs, and then a woman wearing a blue turban. Her features were scared and terrified, begging for help but Merlin could not for the life of him-a little dead humor there-remember why that was. And then he remembered…what else did he remember…the consort gritted his teeth sharply as he tried to force his way through all the pain crippling him. His entire body trembling, and dark hair poked through the gaps between his fingers.
Did he even have fingers any more?
Did dead people have fingers?
Dead…dead…dead…but why was he dead? What had he done for this to happen to him…a new memory hit him sudden, and Merlin cried out again from the pain. His screams echoed out into the distance, coming back to meet him as his ears rung as he fell. Landing amongst the fog on his knees…but all he could think was the memory. He had been standing up, or…no…he'd been lying down. And-Merlin blinked rapidly, trying to see the shadowy figure above him…was it Arthur? It had to be, he was the only one Merlin knew with hair that golden. But was Merlin remembering the time Arthur had back handed him, and he'd ended up on his back? Or was he thinking about something a bit more recent…
The cup, Merlin thought, curling his body up as tight as he was able too, to make himself as small as possible. There had been a cup, hadn't there? But even as Merlin questioned it, he could see a silver goblet being dragged from the darkest recesses of his mind. Could feel his hand twitching violently, almost as if it was convulsing…the hand that had held the goblet. And Merlin could feel liquid fire being poured down his throat, felt as if he had just been given arsenic, but how could Merlin have gotten his hands on something like that?
Had he done this to himself?
Or had this been something that was done to him?
Nothing made sense, everything mashing into one large major jumble of colors and shapes and sounds that he couldn't make out. And the screaming…god, the screaming? Was that coming from him? Or was it the vaguely remembered screams coming from Arthur, yelling his name…had Arthur yelled his name? But why was Arthur yelling his name? Was he upset after Merlin'd gone and made a scene in front of all his rich friends? Was he upset that Merlin had spasmed out across the floor in front of all their royal guests? Was he upset because Merlin did all this in front of his father…right. The memories were starting to shift and come to him a bit easier, the colors shifting around to form a clearer picture on what happened to him.
And finally…it was over.
It was over, and Merlin was laid out on his back again. Staring at the foggy endless sky above him with half lidded eyes, too dazed and confused and just plain exhausted to bother trying to stand up. His head would probably spin if he tried, but if he was dead…should Merlin be feeling pain? Merlin had thought the whole point of the afterlife was for the pain to end. To get some peace. Why had Merlin resorted to hurting himself if the pain only continued where he was trying to end up…
Maybe because this was hell?
It would make sense, Merlin thought with a slow and sluggish mind, scratching absentmindedly at his naked abdomen. This endless fog, being alone…he was no more at peace than he'd been when he was alive. But Merlin had thought hell would've offered more…hellfire. Maybe some pitchforks, burning, some guy claiming to be satan who was going to torture him for the rest of eternity just because he was born different. But all this had to be hell, in its own strange way. Merlin couldn't imagine staying sane when there was nothing but utter emptiness that surrounded him. It wasn't the needle in the eye or all the skin being ripped from his body piece by piece like he thought it'd be. But the quiet was a slow torture, one that would drive even the strongest of man into insanity.
And now he was here…
Or maybe this wasn't hell at all…
It could be purgatory.
A little known realm of existence, but Merlin didn't know the requirements one needed for getting admittance. Maybe this was where people like him went…a slow torture more fitting to a lifetime of using magic. But Merlin had heard horror stories about this place, a plane of existence where nothing lived and nothing grew and nothing changed. Just day in and day out of pure…nothingness. He couldn't survive this for even five more minutes. How was he expected to survive an eternity? Was he really the only one, in all the centuries of people existing, to be sent here? Or did everybody get their own little stretch of fog none could penetrate to find other people…
But there was one thing Merlin knew for sure…
This was not heaven.
Heaven wouldn't be cold. It wouldn't be lonely. It would have a pearly white gate waiting to be opened by him, so he could be embraced for what and who he was. There would have been a few people there to greet him…Merlin hadn't really been close to anybody who'd died before. It was just him and his mother for so long, but surely there would have been somebody there who'd want to welcome him. A grandparent or two, who'd died before he'd been born. Welcoming him into their fold, allowing him to enter their heavenly hold while he wanted for the day he would be reunited with his mother again.
..What was he even supposed to do with all his time here…
What was…
Merlin flinched violently when a sudden, burning light erupted from somewhere to the side of him. This warm glow that made his entire body shake because he didn't know how to handle it, because he didn't know a warm light could exist that wouldn't hurt him. Especially not in such a cold and desolate place, but …it was getting away. The light was dimming, as if it was trying to fade and act as if its existence had never awoken Merlin out of his super. Merlin shoved his arms underneath him, trying to push himself to his feet. But the light was fading rapidly, and it was going to leave him. Leave him alone. Again.
"W-wait! Please! Don't go!" Merlin shouted as loudly as he was able too, his voice cracking and raw and painful from all of that time he spent screaming. But his pain was minuscule toward a pain that would come when being alone. Merlin's body was so limp and gangly, his limbs awkward and unsure as if he didn't know how to use him. One may have mistaken him for a baby deer trying to take its steps for the first time, clumsy…unsure of this new mode of transportation. But Merlin started running anyway, the best he could as he threw his arms out as if trying to shove the fog out of his way. "DON'T LEAVE ME! WHO ARE YOU? WHERE AM I? PLEASE!"
Merlin could feel the tears brimming his eyes, his cheeks going stained as he ran like a clumsy oaf of a mad man. He would go so far as to say he didn't even care about the answers or what was going to happen next. He only wanted to see somebody in this void. Wanted to know he wasn't going to spend his horrid existence staring at the fog and wondering what he had done to deserve all this. Even if what lay ahead of him turned out to be not a person, but just this random ball of glowing light that liked to roam the place. Because at least it was 'something' he could look at. Something that wouldn't try to get away…but the light was getting away, Merlin realized as his feet stuttered.
He had ran for no idea how long, and yet…he still wasn't any closer than when he had started. It was still escaping him…still leaving him…and Merlin crumbled back onto his knees. It was as if he had no strength left to go on, no will to keep running to something he knew was unattainable. Merlin stared blankly at the fog encasing his form, the light flickering before going out completely. "Come back." The boy's voice cracked, so low one would not have been able to actually hear it, though he did not know if he was talking to the light, or pleading to the whatever powers that be that existed to just give him this one thing. One thing, and he would never ask for anything else for as long as he was in this strange place. "Just please come back…"
'I'm coming Merlin, I'm coming'
The strange voice, distorted and unclear, sounding as if it was made more out of static, rang in his ears. Merlin hissed, and he brought his hands up to cover his ears. But the voice repeated itself, seemingly to be coming from inside his skull. Something impossible to block out no matter how hard he tried but Merlin also recognized that this was not his voice. Whoever this was trying to talk to him, the voice is several octave's deeper than his own was. More distinct and refined…the kind of voice one had when they were an educated man…noble.
'I'm coming Merlin, I'm coming'
As if the static had completely faded, Merlin heard it clearer than he would've heard a bell ringing. And it was so achingly familiar, so haunting that Merlin was sure he was going to see it in his nightmares…Arthur. The name alone sent this coursing shiver to go down his body, fear. Merlin was scared. Arthur just said he was coming for him…was this meant as a threat? Is the prince so hell bent on making his life miserable, he was willing to come here, chase him into the fogs of…purgatory?…just so he could continue his torture? Maybe it would be best for him to stay here then, Arthur would never be able to find him with all this fog shielding his naked form.
But it appeared as if Merlin wasn't going to get the choice to stay hidden, his time had came to an end, the light was back in front of him. Only this time, it wasn't a single ball shining out in the distance. This time, it was coming from all around him, like it was putting him under some kind of spotlight. And he yelled, the light burning his retina's but for some reason, he could not close his eyes to shield himself from the light. The burning hot glow of it washing over his entire body, caressing him from the mess he called his hair and all the way down to twitching little toes. Finding its place in every crease and curve Merlin didn't even know he had…the curves of his neck, along his rib-cage, across his nipples, under his cock, down between his thighs…even the crease between his bottom cheeks were not speared from the scorching heat of the light.
And then it was gone again. Merlin yelped as he fell back onto the ground, which was strange because he had already been sitting on the ground. But it felt as if he had fallen from a great height, one even higher than he knew. Merlin's fingers, having to hold onto something for purchase, curled around all the soft remains of dirt beneath his hands…dirt? There hadn't been any dirt amongst the fog. It had been clean, scarily clean. But after Merlin looked down-his fingers trembling because he had not known he would ever be stained by the thickness of dirt again-he could confirm. He was holding onto the ground, grass and sticks and dirt and leafs everywhere he looked…trees, with a sky far bluer than he could remember it being. But that might have been because Merlin had thought he would never see the sky again.
…was he really so bad, the afterlife itself had spit him straight back out?
The only problem, Merlin thought as the dirt slipped through his fingers and his knees trembling as he stood up, was he had no idea where he was. It appeared to be some kind of forest, if the thick tree trunks surrounding him was any indicator. But he did not recognize these trees. Didn't recognize the landscape on which he stood…it was most definitely not the forest on the edge of Ealdor. But that made sense…could it be the forest on the outskirts of Camelot City? It made sense, but it also made no sense at all…because how did he get outside when he had just been in the great hall? How was it daylight already, when it had just been night? Had Merlin been out of it for much longer than he had thought…but still…
These trees did not resemble the ones he knew from Camelot.
They seemed darker in a way, more curved in. As if they were trying to warn passing people-warn Merlin-to turn back while they still could. To escape before the forest and its beast were able to find him, and swallow him whole. Looking more like a bunch of claws ready to rip their way through his delicate, thin flesh in order to prevent him from escaping. Merlin took a few steps back, head whipping around, desperate to find anything that was even vaguely familiar. Something that could give him some kind of insight as to where he was…
And as if to answer his prayers, a sound seems to reverberate up from the ground, vibrating through the earth to where his feet were making contact with it. No…Merlin's brow creased in the center of his forehead. It wasn't coming from the earth…it was coming from somewhere nearby, making the very ground shake as it got closer and closer. And that was when he heard the hooves…Merlin's head whipped up. Looking around wildly to find the horse. Because a horse meant a person, and that'd mean there was somebody who could tell him where he was at right now. Or give him directions on how to get back to the city so he didn't have to make a new home directly in the middle of nowhere.
And there…the horse rider appeared like a knight riding in on a dark steed in order to save the day, appearing from between a set of trees further down the clearing. No…this man was a real knight in shining armor. Merlin could see all the glittering of his armor sparking in the sunlight. Could see the long flowing dark red cape streaming out behind him like blood, which meant the consort had to be close to Camelot. If one of its knights would be riding here…but no. Merlin took a few steps back, trying to shield himself amongst the shadows of the trees. Getting help and finding his bearings was not worth confronting any knight that came from Camelot. Knowing his luck, it would be one he actually recognized as one of his many abusers.
And as if to prove this…the knight lifted his head, snapping his reins against the horse to make him go faster-though it could have been happening in slow motion to Merlin. His very breath being once again stolen from his lungs when he saw that thick blond hair, more golden than any crown had the right to be but for a second-just a second-Merlin could have sworn the eyes of Camelot's Prince fell on him. Merlin nearly fell over a root as he tripped backwards, scrambling to get away only to slam his back against the thick trunk of a tree. Merlin's nails dug in, his chest heaving up and down as he tried taking in more air than his body was allowed to hold. This was it…this was it…the man had really chased him down. That monster had found him, and now he was going to drag Merlin back to Camelot so he could face punishment.
And perhaps in any other situation, Merlin might have tried and covered himself. So Arthur wouldn't get an eyeful of his naked body, wouldn't stare at him as Merlin's face flamed with color…his embarrassment too much to handle. Nobody had seen him naked since the day he was declared old enough to change his clothes on his own and bathe himself. While there was little the consort could actually do, no leaves or bushes big enough that he could use for cover, he could at least use his hands to wrap over his cock. Shield himself from the view of the monster that wanted to swallow him whole…already, the spot Arthur groped earlier on his inner thigh was tingling in remembrance. And his leg spasmed, but still…he didn't move.
It never occurred to Merlin to cover his private bits from Arthur and his unrelenting stare.
Because just as fast as Arthur was looking at him-eons, it may as well have been eons under that stare-was his eyes sliding away from him. Like Arthur couldn't see anything more than a bunch of trees…and then Arthur was gone. Racing past him on his horse, vanishing on the other side of the clearing, as if he'd never been there. But the effect Arthur had left on the consort was quite real, and Merlin's hands trembled again, stricken as he slumped against his tree, trying to understand what he had just went through. Arthur…the prince…he hadn't seen him. Did that mean Merlin was a ghost? A phantom? Doomed to walk the earth and watch as people-his actual tormentors-go on to live the happy lives he never got to.
And why…
Why…
Why did he still hear Arthur even though he was long gone, in his ears as if it were the beating of a drum.
'I'm coming Merlin, I'm coming.'
X
Guinevere, handmaiden to her Lady Morgana, ward of the King himself, was not afraid. She was brave, and she was powerful in the face of her adversary. Stronger than most people in the world, beautiful and kind where others were not. She was all of these things, and nobody in the world would ever get to try to tell her different. Because Gwen would knock them onto their backside if they tried. She was brave. Strong. Powerful. Kind…beautiful. Or at least that was what Gwen told himself, with her hands wringing together against his stomach. She was going to be fine, because there was nothing to be scared of.
And that was exactly why Gwen paced in front of the door that led to the dungeons. Trying to work up the nerve to go inside, but every time she felt brave enough to reach for the handle of the door…she flinched back. Already feeling the chill she knew awaited her. Hearing the sound of a metal door being slammed in her face, nobody answering her as she begged the group of men who carried her down there to just listen to her. It made a panic tighten her throat, made her chicken out and once again pace restlessly in front of the door.
Gwen kept telling herself she only needed another minute for her to collect herself. One more minute, and then she would go marching down there as if it didn't affect her. One more minute and then she could leave as soon as she found out whether or not that serving girl was down there or not. But that one more minute never seem to come, and Gwen just needed to keep on reminding herself…just because she was down there, it did not mean she was going to be kept prisoner. It didn't mean guards were going to grab onto her biceps the second she showed up and throw her into a cell full of Mercians.
Gwen had already been exonerated for her apparent crimes…she was going to be okay.
Before Gwen could psyche herself out again, she threw herself against the door, the cold chill embracing her just as she knew it would. And she hovered at the top of the stairs, flinching and nearly falling forward when the door slammed shut behind her, bumping into her backside. Taking this as the encouragement she desperately needed, Gwen traveled down the rest of the stairs, her fingers trailed along the stone wall beside her, with her stomach clenching in dread and anticipation. But after she reached the bottom, and after she entered the hall where the cells were stationed…nothing happened to her.
It was almost anti-climatic.
At least until Gwen's eyes rested on one of the cells…it was full of Mercian servants now. Young girls clumped together on the floor, holding dirty hands and leaning smudged faces against a friend's shoulder. Young boy's curled in corners, and tapping fingers against their knees, looking restless. About twenty or so in the cell…and not one of them would ever know this cell happened to be the one Gwen had been locked in. It loomed over her, as if it was a gigantic monster, prepared to open its cavernous door and swallow her whole. Gwen swallowed past the large lump in her throat, trying its hardest to stop her from breathing…
She was safe…
She was safe…
She was safe…
"Gwen?" A hand landed on her shoulder, and Gwen jerked her arm free, whipping her head around wildly. Sucking in a huge breath…no, no, no, no! She wasn't going back! They could not make her! She hasn't done anything! She… "Hey, hey, hey. It is just me!" Knight Derrick said, holding up both hands to show Gwen he was unarmed and no longer touching her. But Gwen still sucked in a large breath, her chest heaving as if she'd ran for miles on end. She didn't know Knight Derrick. Enough that she recognized him. But he wasn't somebody she talked to, it was honestly surprising he knew her name. Dereck cleared his throat, looking unsure now, but continued as he lowered down his hands. "You were with Consort Merlin, yeah? I saw you run from the hall with Arthur and them. Do you know how Merlin is doing? I've been wondering, but I can't leave my post and find out for myself…?"
Gwen reflectively swallowed again, she didn't want to talk with the knight. Being in the dungeons made her nervous, and then talking to a knight only made her want to flee while she had a chance. And there was no telling whether Derrick was asking as a friend and actually concerned, asking as a knight and just wanting to know the status of the royal family, or asking as just a jerk who wanted to celebrate what was happening. But then again…Knight Derrick looked so earnest. Simply asking her the question, and…Gwen opened her mouth to answer. Or at least give him an affirmative…let him know that Merlin still lived.
But her throat closed even tighter, barely a small hole left for her to breathe through. Her eyes widened when no sound left her lips. She tried again, opening and closing her mouth, but a sound that could have been a squeaking mouse seemed to be the only sound she could make. And Derrick was looking at her strangely, raising an eyebrow high above his forehead. But the maid flushed hard, closing her mouth and feeling pitiful when she reverted back to…the girl she had been this entire month, since her release. Gwen had thought she'd been doing much better, but being back in the place where everything happened to her. It was as if she had regressed to the beginning stages of her healing journey…
Gwen had so many difficulties talking when she was first taken out of her cells. Even just a few days ago, she'd been keeping silent more often than not. But the last day or two, she'd been trying really hard to get out of her shell. Trying to force herself to move on from her trauma and just…get over it. But this was impossible to just 'get over'. She wasn't the type of girl who'd gotten away with yelling at Camelot's prince and beating fists against his chest. She was the mouse, who if she wasn't being careful, might just end up being swallowed by the snake as it's midnight snack.
Gwen shrugged pitifully, realizing helplessly how she wanted to do more, when Derrick's expression dropped, taking what he will from what she had done. But it wasn't as if Gwen was able to play charades until Derrick guessed Merlin was still on the living side of things. But was badly sick. And there was still a bit of hope because Arthur was out there right now-told from Leon-working on bringing them a flower that was meant to the cure. There was only so much of that, Gwen would have gotten Derrick to guess by waving her fingers around or doing a truly awful impression of Arthur strutting around and waving about his sword.
"Damn it, it's really that bad, huh? I mean, I knew it was, he did hit the ground pretty hard after drinking it. But then you hear it really is as bad as it looks and you just…" Derrick trailed off like he didn't know where he had been going with that and ruefully shook his head. Bringing up a hand to shove it roughly through his brown floppy locks that fell straight back into his eyes after he was done. Derrick looked back at her with pitying eyes, "I'm sorry. I mean, Merlin's a pretty cool dude. I wouldn't mind very much if he hung around for a while. Merlin always livens up the place. Camelot can certainly do with some more of that…"
Gwen wanted to hide somewhere where nobody would find her but at the same time…she almost wanted to smile. It was almost sweet-a true rarity-to find somebody whose very first instinct wasn't to start badmouthing Merlin. Maybe if he was being genuine, Merlin would have appreciated having an extra visitor to come sit by his side. But she figured Leon would not admit the other knight into the room, and Gwen didn't have the ability to suggest it anyway. She gave him a half shrug, hoping it might show they both shared the same solidarity towards his Royal Consort. But the message in her gestures might've fallen flat, or…maybe it didn't. Because Derrick shot her this sadden smile, as if he had understood exactly what she was trying to convey without her needing to say it.
"I don't know what the big deal is, or why everybody seems to be acting as if this isn't a good thing. It's good riddance as far as I'm concerned." A dark voice from somewhere in the darken shadows behind her said, and Gwen's spine went stiff. A spark of indignation wanted to rise up in her, but she didn't speak up since she already knew nothing would come from it. And then Markus was walking out, a confident swagger to his steps with a simple maid in front of him, "Things will go back to normal as soon as he's gone. Arthur won't always be distracted and may actually want to do other stuff if he wasn't always trying to get under Merlin's arse all the damn time."
Markus sniffed in disdain…he had practically lost a friend when Merlin had came rolling into town. Arthur hadn't hung out with him in so long, and was always running off because he was so busy every time Markus tried inviting him somewhere. All of it was so irritating, and clearly Merlin's fault. Arthur didn't even want to participate in their usual games of 'find the servant in the worse state, or the most stress, and make their day worse than before.' They use to have so much fun tormenting a poor soul they happened to come across. It was not any fun doing it on his own, without Arthur there to lead the charge and make him feel big about himself. But chasing around Merlin left very little time for socializing and excreting their power over all the little people.
Like this maid…
"Maybe you should be a little more careful of who you happen to be talking too. This is Guinevere, though I can't expect you would bother to know her name, and she is the handmaiden of Lady Morgana. Who will skin you alive if she knew what you've said to her just now." Derrick scowled, dropping this protective hand on Gwen's shoulder. He squeezed it once, letting the girl know he was there. And Gwen clenched her anxious fingers in her skirts, leaning into the touch, as Derrick turned back with a sly smirk on his face, "I wouldn't take anything he tries saying to heart. He's made his feelings towards the Consort obviously clear. And he's just moody now because Leon already put him in his place for it earlier this evening."
This was a subtle jab if Gwen had ever heard, one meant to be a reminder to a certain somebody of what they'd already gone through the last time they tried talking like this. And it seemed to work. Markus had been so disgusted when Derrick had said he should 'watch how he spoke' to a servant. A bloody, stupid servant! Just because she belonged to Lady Morgana. But the comment only turned Markus angry, his face going a stark red as if he wanted to explode. But apparently, the subtle threat of Leon hearing about him starting up again now that he was not here to stop him, made the knight storm off in a huff. Ready to go lick his metaphorical wounds after once again, being put in his place and not allowed to play his 'torture the servant' game moment.
"I hope he didn't scare you too bad. I really don't like that guy, he's a major creep. And it only seems to get worse with age. I don't know what he's got to be so angry about. It's not as if all this is the worse gig we could be doing." Derrick murmured to the handmaiden under his breath, shooting a glare towards the direction Markus had stomped off in. Gwen followed his gaze…silent and not steady at all…she might need to watch out if the knight got worse than being an ugly human being. But she was never going to want to be caught alone by that guy. She could only imagine what he might do if he caught a serving girl who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Gwen's fingers wrung together again anxiously, and Derrick seemed to notice, frown growing more steadily. "Are you? Alright, that is…I know he can be a little…much. But he's not going to hurt you or anything. He's just in a mood right now."
But Gwen wasn't too sure about that, but it wasn't like she'd be able to vent her frustrations to Derrick, of all people. But maybe it was just the dungeons making her jumpy, making her look for a threat everywhere. Though anybody who said cruel things like that about her friend…there was nothing good and redeemable about them. God, Gwen needed to get out of here if only so she could take a minute to catch her breath. Take a minute to recoup…she might need an entire month to recoup if she didn't get out of this dungeon as soon as she could.
Knowing she was being rude, but shaking in her slippers, she turned her back to Derrick and started looking through the bar to see the servants. Her fingers twitched and she studied each girl she saw as quick as she could. One was blond and another was too short. And that one…no…that one was a boy. And she knew Derrick was watching her, obviously having no idea what she was doing. But Gwen kept looking and looking and looking and…she stopped when her eyes landed on one girl tucked in a pocket of the cell. Her head ducked into her knees so all the handmaiden could see was large strands of dark hair…but she didn't appear to have a blue turban.
Which didn't meant anything. It could have easily gotten taken off during the chaos-people screaming and shoving and being freaked out as Camelot knights herded them into the center of the room for transport. It was probably crushed up underneath a table somewhere…but then the serving girl lifted her head so she could rub her arm across her face. It only made a streak of dirt slash across her already ruddy cheek, but Gwen could still make out the youthful face behind all the dirt. She appeared to be a teenager…even younger than Gwen was now…and locked in a cell where she would probably be executed if they weren't able to find a better way to deal with these people.
…Just like her…
…Just like her…
…Just like her…
Gwen couldn't stay here for a second longer, unable to stand the sight of seeing-herself-in the girl's face. Because she was obviously not the one Gwen was looking for. The girl she had seen walking off with Merlin was All Woman, not a teary eyed teenager who probably thought she was going to die. Just as she had once thought she was going to die…this really was too much. And Gwen spun around on her heel, rushing past Knight Derrick trying to ask her what she was doing, and ran from the dungeons as fast as her feet could carry her.
Gwen could've have busted out crying when she threw herself out the door at the top of the stairs. Her entire body shaking in despair and fear…there was absolutely no such thing as 'hope' in such an awful, awful place. She had an uncomfortably large amount of sweat clinging to her skin, cold and chilling…god, it was so awful down there! And she had left those people-little teenagers-down there to suffer what she had escaped from! It was awful of her! She was awful! She was…she was…she put a hand to her mouth to hold back the wave of nausea she could feel stirring.
At least she had gotten the information she needed.
The serving girl wasn't down there.
It had only costed her soul to figure it out…
X
"Hello! Hello? Morris? Are you home?" John, one of the young serving boy's called out. He was standing in front of this small hut just on the edge of the shopping district, knocking on the door of the home he knew belonged to Morris. He hadn't ever been here before, Morris had never invited him. Even when he offered to do some of Morris' work for him to help ease some of the load…oh, who was he kidding. John only offered help so he could get close to Morris. It wasn't his fault that Morris was just so cute. And ambitious. And confident…the servant could feel a blush brimming on his cheeks. And he rose his hand and knocked on the door again rapidly, even though the darkness he could see when he peeked in the shutters said that it was empty. "I know it's pretty late!" He called anyway, hoping the other servant was simply sleeping and he hadn't came here for nothing. "Or early morning if you want to look at it, since I am sure the sun's about to rise any minute. But I couldn't sleep at all after the banquet. And I know it's probably wrong for me to be here, maybe you don't even want to see me. But I really did not want to spend another minute alone…"
John trailed off, pouting with disappointment when he didn't hear anybody coming to the door during his rambles. God, he had thought this would be the perfect time to come and find a way to get closer to Morris. All he had wanted was for Morris to see how scared he was-or appeared to be-and wrap him in his arms to try and comfort him. It would have been what any kind gentlemen would've done! And in John's fantasies, Morris was the gentlemen of all gentlemen. Morris would he patient and kind to him…gentle and sweet. He had to be, if he could stand working with Arthur for so long. But nothing John had done to catch his eye has seemed to work. Which was why he was here now…one last ditch effort to make Morris see him as more than a friend. But a potential lover as well…
"…Morris? Are you really not home?" John whimpered, talking to himself…where could Morris have been? Everybody'd been told to return to their homes and await formal instructions with the morning's light. He was already taking a huge risk by being out early, the sun just now starting to peak, and might even be arrested for disobeying the orders if an unsympathetic knight caught him. Some people just were not going to understand what a man was willing to do to get a bit of attention from his crush! That was another reason why it had sounded so perfect to come here! Morris would've forced him into his home to hide from the guards, and John would've finally been able to spend some time with him socially. But the plan was right out the window with Morris being gone…maybe he was tending to Arthur, John thought as he brought a hand to rest on the door. He looked at it with sorrow, as if it was his friend who was moving away and he would never see again, "I guess I'll just have to come and see you later today, won't I? I hope I will at least…"
John took a step away from the door, intent on sneaking back to his home before the guards found him. But when he took a few steps away, he stopped when he heard a creaking sound come from somewhere behind him. Turning back to look, John blinked in wonder when he saw Morris door had fell opened a crack…apparently Morris hadn't made sure he locked his door before he left that morning. But…it was wrong for John to walk himself in, take a little look around-just to be sure lovely Morris hadn't fallen asleep, leaving him vulnerable to any danger that may wonder upon him-and maybe dawdle for a bit. It could go so badly if Morris walked in on him. But…he really wanted to sit around and wait for the other boy to show…maybe make it look as if he had only just walked in, and hadn't spent hours going through his crush's stuff like he was some kind of demented fanboy…
This might be the only chance he got to know the real Morris!
John walked into the hut, closing the door softly behind him.
Unaware that he'd never see the light of day again…
