Fic: Revelation [Merlin/Morgana, minor Gwen/Arthur]
Title: Revelation
Author: angelqueen04
Pairing/Characters: Morgana, Gaius, Arthur, Gwen, Merlin, Uther; Merlin/Morgana, minor Gwen/Arthur
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Angst, hints of violence
Spoilers: Mention of episodes up to and including 2.07 Witchfinder.
Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin or any associated characters. It’s all property of the BBC.
Word Count: 3,494 words
Author’s Notes: Written for the “Accidents” challenge at merlin_rarepair. I honestly tried for an accidental pregnancy story, but the muse just wouldn’t cooperate. Instead, it came up with this…
Alarmed shouts permeated the forest, punctuated by great, inhuman roaring, a sound that would strike terror into the hardiest of souls. Leaves crunched beneath boots, hands scrabbled frantically against a rocky cliff face.
Another bout of snarling, chillingly close. Heads turned, eyes widened.
A single warning.
“Arthur, look out!”
A sickening tearing, followed by a pained gasp.
“No!”
Morgana had been visiting a lady who had just given birth to her third child, and so only heard the commotion after she left. She noticed the servants whispering, their eyes wide as they peered out of windows and around corners. Morgana raised an inquiring eyebrow at more than one group of people, but they merely ducked their heads and hurried on their way.
When she made it back to her chambers, Gwen was there, standing and pacing around the room, her expression distressed and fretful.
“Gwen?” Morgana asked as she closed the door behind her. “Whatever is the matter?”
Gwen stared at her. “M-My lady,” she said quietly, her fingers wringing at the fabric of her apron. “It… Prince Arthur and his company came back a short while ago…”
Morgana eyed her handmaiden. Gwen had never confided her feelings toward Arthur in her, even after it had slowly become obvious to her and she had more than hinted that she was aware of it. Still, Gwen was clearly upset. “Is Arthur injured?” Morgana demanded, alarmed, memories of Arthur being dragged back to Camelot by Merlin and a small group of injured knights coming to mind. Not again…
Thankfully, Gwen shook her head. “N-Not Arthur…” she replied.
A small feeling of relief shot through her. Morgana had no desire to relive those horrific days. “Then who?”
“M-Merlin…”
All relief vanished and Morgana could feel her blood freeze in her veins. “M… Merlin?” she whispered. No…
She turned on her heel, threw the door open, and tore down the corridors. She didn’t even care if Gwen followed her.
Morgana wasn’t oblivious to her surroundings; she never had been. She knew that Merlin was magical, just as she was. Though he had not admitted as much to her - really, why was everyone trying to avoid talking to her? - she was by no means an idiot. She had lost count of the times she had seen Arthur die in her dreams, only to see those dreams be thwarted, just barely and usually with Merlin being involved. That, and watching his eyes flare from blue to gold, making the knife in Aredian’s hand sizzle in his hand, really took off any veil of secrecy.
She had been angry at first, furious that he would dance around the subject of magic, then accept that she was a sorceress of some kind, but not tell her the truth about himself. Morgana had trusted him with her life, with a secret that could easily get her killed if Uther ever discovered it, why did he not show her the same respect?
It had taken time to work through that anger, but eventually she had come to accept that Merlin would tell her in his own time, and until that time came, she could only do what she could to protect him, to keep him at Arthur’s side, where he belonged.
But now this? What had happened to Merlin?
She wound her way through the castle, finally coming to the staircase that led up to Gaius’ chambers. Her skirts clutched tightly in her hands, Morgana hurried up the steps. As she approached the landing, however, her heart jumped into her throat.
Arthur stood outside the door, still clad in his hunting clothes, and covered in blood. It was all over his clothes, his hands. There was even a smear of it on his cheek.
Her stomach heaved a little, but she did her best to ignore it. “Arthur,” she whispered.
He turned to face her, clearly having not noticed her approach, and cringed when he saw her.
“What happened?” she demanded.
“Morgana, I don’t think -”
“What happened?”
Arthur rubbed the back of his head with a bloody hand, and it came back cleaner than what it was before, which caused them both to wince. “There was… I don’t know what it was,” he said, his blue eyes suspiciously vacant and continually darting toward the closed door. “We thought we were hunting a boar, all of the signs were there, but it came out of nowhere… It knocked three knights across the clearing before we even knew what was happening. We tried to retreat, but it followed. I… A group of us were cornered up against a sheer cliff, so we tried to climb.” Arthur paused, taking a shaky breath. “I was starting to go up when it charged right at me… but Merlin, he came out of nowhere…”
Morgana heard Gwen’s quiet moan of distress from behind her, but she did not turn. Instead, her own eyes were riveted on the door.
She had no idea how long the three of them stood there, waiting for any sign of movement from inside. No one even thought of going to Uther to explain what had happened. No one was going to move.
It was nearly dusk by the time the door finally opened. Gaius stepped out, clearly exhausted. His robe too was covered in blood.
Merlin’s blood. Morgana bit her lip against the tears that threatened.
“Gaius?” Arthur’s voice was surprisingly filled with fear.
The old man glanced at him. “The boy’s alive,” he told them. “There does not appear to be any organ damage, but it is too early to tell for certain. He’s lost an extreme amount of blood, and it’s made him weak.” Gaius sighed. “He must make it through the night if he is to have any chance at all.”
Morgana’s hands clenched. She opened her mouth to speak, but Arthur beat her to it. “May we see him?”
Gaius did not answer immediately, his sharp eyes instead singling each of them out, measuring them. “One at a time,” he finally responded, “and only for a few moments. Rest is his only hope.”
Arthur went in first, and Morgana did not have to eavesdrop to know what her foster brother would have to say to Merlin - semi-stern promises of lectures for nearly getting himself killed, threatening him with the stocks if he did not get better. Gwen went next, no doubt speaking to him softly and brushing his hair from his brow while trying not to remember the last time she had seen him laid out so.
Morgana did not move from her spot while she waited, but her mind raced. How was it she had not seen this coming? Her visions were hardly clear on the subject, but she knew Merlin’s importance. He was just as vital to the future as Arthur was. Arthur would be king one day, and Merlin… Merlin would be at his side. How in the world could she not have been warned that this was coming? A sign that this would not be overly important, and that he would recover, perhaps? She had been taking Gaius’ latest concoction to ease the dreams for nearly four days now, and it seemed to have been working. Was this the cost? Had she missed the warning of her dreams simply for a few hours more of sleep?
Gwen stepped outside, wiping her eyes with her fingers. She and Arthur seemed to gravitate close together, but Morgana could not bring herself to care overly much. Biting her lip again, she brushed past them and into Gaius’ chambers.
The table had clearly been swept clean when Merlin had been brought in wounded, because a mess of broken glass and upended potions’ ingredients still littered the floor at one end. Morgana’s eyes, though, had landed on Merlin, and she nearly cried out.
He was pale, paler than she had ever seen him. The young man looked as though a good, strong shove could finish him off. He was shirtless, but his torso was thickly wrapped with bandages, and Morgana didn’t doubt that there were many, many stitches beneath them. Gaius had been in here for hours. The table beneath him was stained with blood.
She inched forward, and one of her hands moved to grasp one of his gently, while the other reached up to stroke his cheek.
“M-Merlin,” Morgana whispered, but then stopped. What was she supposed to say? “What were you thinking, you idiot?” That much was obvious - he was thinking about saving Arthur, as always. It wasn’t the first time the young man had sacrificed himself for the sake of his prince. What about, “Wake up”? No, Gaius was right. He needed to rest.
Perhaps, “Don’t die, I love you”?
Morgana bit her lip against the sob that threatened to bubble up. Gods above, did she really love the gangly and endearingly awkward servant? The young man who focused on little more than keeping Arthur alive and moving toward becoming a great king, so much so that he was often oblivious to anything else, even his own safety? She had a sudden urge to laugh at the absurdness of the situation.
“You must get through this, Merlin,” she finally settled on saying, firmly pushing this new revelation down. Now was not the time to think of such things. Right now she had to worry about Merlin surviving the night. “Arthur is alive and safe,” she assured him, squeezing his hand carefully, “thanks to you. Now you have to heal.”
Biting her lip, Morgana stared at the unconscious man for several moments, and then stepped a little closer. She leaned down and pressed her lips against his in a chaste kiss. He did not respond, but she did not expect him to. “Fight, Merlin. We need you,” she breathed against his lips.
I need you.
She straightened again and forced herself to leave, knowing that if she didn’t go now, not even Gaius would be able to force her out. Stepping outside, Morgana found the others still waiting and even saw Uther approaching, coming up the same steps she’d flown up earlier.
“Arthur,” the king said, sounding slightly out of breath. “Sir Leon informed me of what happened. Are you all right?” The king’s eyes widened as he took in Arthur’s disheveled appearance and crimson-stained clothing. “Dear God -”
“I’m fine, Father,” Arthur cut him off. “It’s not mine. It’s Merlin’s.” The exhaustion in his voice was thick.
Morgana watched Uther’s eyes flicker briefly from his son to her, or rather, the door behind her. “Is he…?”
“He’s alive for now, Sire,” Gaius supplied, and then turned to Arthur. “Your Highness, there’s nothing you can do here. I recommend you retire and get some rest.”
Arthur looked like he wanted to protest, but a stern glance from the physician stalled him, so he nodded. “Send someone if…”
“Of course,” Gaius assured him.
Morgana watched Arthur leave slowly. Uther walked with him, every inch the concerned parent. Arthur didn’t appear to react much to his father’s questions.
“My lady,” Gaius said, distracting her. “You should go also. You need to sleep.”
She too wanted to stay, but no doubt Gaius would refuse to allow it. Sighing, she agreed.
“Do you have any more of your sleeping draught?” he asked her, his voice softening ever so slightly.
Morgana pressed her lips together, annoyed. This was yet another source of irritation for her - Gaius’ continued efforts to drug away her abilities. Granted, the sleeping draughts helped her get some much-needed rest when the nightmares became too much, but being reminded of it constantly was wearisome. And given what had just occurred with Merlin, the very possibility that the draughts had prevented her dreams from warning her made Morgana shiver.
However, to ease Gaius’ mind, she replied, “I have enough for a few days yet.”
The relief on the old man’s face was telling, and Morgana let it stay there. He had been through enough tonight, having had to stitch back together the boy he thought of as his own child.
Gwen followed Morgana on the trek back to her chambers. The handmaid helped her out of her dress and into one of her warmer nightgowns to ward off the evening chill. Thank goodness one of the other servants had kept the fire going in their absence.
“Do you wish me to stay, my lady?” Gwen asked.
Morgana rubbed her arms, warming herself by the fire, and shook her head. “I’ll be all right, Gwen. Go home, get some sleep.” She took a deep breath, adding after a moment, “If something… if something happens, I’ll send a page to bring you back.”
Gwen bit her lip, but nodded. Her eyes twitched over to the table beside Morgana’s bed and she said, “The draught is prepared, my lady.”
Morgana glanced at it as well and replied evenly, “Thank you. Goodnight.”
Once the door closed behind Gwen, Morgana sat down on her bed and stared at the tiny bottle. She was exhausted, yes, and in desperate need of sleep, but after what had happened to Merlin today, what could still happen…
Clenching her teeth, Morgana took the bottle and poured its contents into a nearby potted plant, before she could change her mind.
She had to know…
Arthur kneels beside a bed, grey as death. Gaius slumps, defeated.
Someone weeps.
Arthur bears a crown and a sword, his expression devoid of any levity.
“Arthur Pendragon is the Once and Future King, who will unite the land of Albion.”
Invaders cross the sea.
“We must work together!”
Arthur goes unheeded. Kings squabble like children. Sorcerers stand by and do nothing.
“Without you, Arthur will never succeed. Without you, there will be no Albion.”
The lands burn. Anyone who resists dies beneath the sword, men, women, and children alike.
Arthur falls. Camelot alights.
Gwen stands in the Great Hall alone. The doors shudder and burst open.
Gwen cuts her own throat, her blood spilling down her front.
Darkness.
“Do not let the boy die, Morgan le Fey. If he fails, so too will all of us.”
Morgana did not wake screaming, as she so often did, but her heart pounded fiercely against her chest and her breaths came in heaving gasps. The fire had long since cooled, but she did not notice the cool air. There was only one thought on her mind - she had to get to Merlin. Now.
Shoving the blankets aside, Morgana grabbed her robe from its customary peg - thank the gods for Gwen keeping everything in order - and threw it on before running out of the room. She didn’t even bother putting her boots on, instead making due with the thin slippers she often wore in the privacy of her chambers.
It was still quite early, and so there were few servants up and about. She passed a few guards, but didn’t bother acknowledging them. She knew her presence would be noted, and word would reach Uther and Arthur that she was out racing through the corridors toward Gaius’ chambers. There was not much time.
When she finally made it there, Morgana could hear Gaius muttering and cursing even with the door closed. Grasping the door handle, Morgana lifted it and pushed the door open.
The physician was leaning over Merlin’s prone form, his white head pressed against the young man’s chest. “No, Merlin,” Gaius muttered, “not like this, my boy, not like this…”
Something began to burn and tremble inside of Morgana, coupled with terror the likes of which she had never known. Part of her yearned to flee, to spare herself the sight of Merlin succumbing to death, but then she recalled the dream, of how Merlin’s death would be the destruction of them all. She could not fail, not now.
Gathering her courage, she stepped further into the room, slamming the door shut behind her and locking it. “Gaius.”
He jerked at her voice, looking at her. “My lady,” he started.
Morgana cut him off. “He is dying,” she stated, her calm, even voice belying her inner turmoil. “He can’t. He mustn’t.”
“I… I do not know what else to do,” Gaius said, his voice almost shaking with suppressed grief. “There must be some internal damage that I could not see…”
“Get your herbs, Gaius,” Morgana found herself ordering. “Be ready to clean and pack the wound. I will take care of the rest.”
What in the gods’ names was she doing? Her rational mind questioned her actions persistently, but Morgana was beyond any kind of rationality at this point. She did not know what she was behaving on right now - magic, instinct? - but she dared not fight it. Not when Merlin’s life and the future of the world relied on her.
Thankfully, Gaius did not waste time questioning her. After washing her hands in a nearby basin, together they tore the dirty bandages from the young man’s unresponsive body. The skin around the stitched areas was a sickly-looking yellow.
The burning sensation inside of Morgana increased, and she placed trembling hands on Merlin’s skin, on either side of the stitches. Closing her eyes, she felt… something inside of her lash out, down her arms, through her hands and fingers, and into Merlin’s body. She only vaguely heard Gaius’ shocked gasp.
Morgana felt as though she was on fire, as though flames were sweeping inside and outside of her body, cleansing and healing any hurt. It was intoxicating, the feeling of someone injured and sick being made hale and whole once more. If this was what Uther called the corruption of magic, then let it corrupt her!
Stay with me, Merlin, she felt herself call to him. Don’t leave me here alone.
The feeling slowly faded, though how much time passed, Morgana had no idea. Slowly she opened her eyes again and found Gaius smearing some kind of cleansing paste on the stitched area. The infection appeared gone, replaced by a healthy pink color. She slowly sank down onto the bench, feeling exhausted, but still managed to help re-bandage Merlin’s wounds. Just as they finished, someone tried to enter the chambers, but was stopped by the locked door.
The person banged on the door, and there was an urgent shout from outside. “Gaius?!”
Arthur.
Morgana looked at Gaius. He returned her stare. There was no revulsion in his eyes, only weary acceptance and… gratitude. “Thank you, my dear,” he whispered. “Thank you.” He then moved away to the door before she could respond. The physician unlocked the door and opened it, letting Arthur inside. The prince’s eyes immediately set on Morgana.
“What is happening?” he demanded. “The guards said you were running around as though a monster was nipping at your heels. Is it your nightmares again?”
Morgana watched Arthur’s eyes slide from her to Merlin beside her even as he asked after her. Or, more specifically, where she had clasped Merlin’s hand in her own. She didn’t bother letting go. She had never cared for convention, and she was too tired to start now.
“Yes,” she lied. “I did have a nightmare. I came for a draught, but Merlin… was in a bad way when I got here. Gaius was attempting to clean the wounds, but Merlin’s fever made things difficult. I sat with him and talked to him, trying to keep him calm while Gaius worked.”
Arthur kept staring, but nodded. “I see,” he said slowly, and then turned to Gaius. “Has there been any change?”
“This recent episode aside, I believe Merlin is holding his own,” Gaius said. “The herbs are preventing infection. We may have passed the worst.”
Relief swept over Arthur’s fair features. “Thank God,” he muttered.
Thank magic, Morgana wanted to say. It was magic that brought Merlin to you, Arthur, and it was magic that anchored him to this world. Hopefully magic will continue to keep you together.
A yawn escaped her at that point. She needed to sleep. The burning sensation was long gone, as were any lingering feelings of dread. Gaius was right. They were past the worst. Merlin would live.
Arthur noticed her fatigue and said, “Come Morgana, I’ll escort you back to your chambers.”
“Indeed, my lady, you should try to get a little more sleep before the day begins,” Gaius supported. He held out a small vial to her. “This should help.” However, he mouthed ‘water’ to her immediately after, out of Arthur’s sight.
Morgana nodded. “Yes, thank you, Gaius.”
Arthur offered her his arm as he escorted her out, leaving Merlin to Gaius’ care. She leaned on him tiredly, but some part of her mind was still on what she had done. Before this, she had used her magic mainly for little tricks, lighting a candle, calling her brush to her hand from across the room. This, though, this was different, and it felt… fulfilling.
She’d have to think on that more later.
“… she who
is higher becomes a doctor in the art of healing and
exceeds her sisters in excellent form. Morgen is her
name, and she has learned what usefulness all the
herbs bear so that she may cure sick bodies.”
“Avalon”, from the Vita Merlini
by Geoffrey of Monmouth
Author: angelqueen04
Pairing/Characters: Morgana, Gaius, Arthur, Gwen, Merlin, Uther; Merlin/Morgana, minor Gwen/Arthur
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Angst, hints of violence
Spoilers: Mention of episodes up to and including 2.07 Witchfinder.
Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin or any associated characters. It’s all property of the BBC.
Word Count: 3,494 words
Author’s Notes: Written for the “Accidents” challenge at merlin_rarepair. I honestly tried for an accidental pregnancy story, but the muse just wouldn’t cooperate. Instead, it came up with this…
Alarmed shouts permeated the forest, punctuated by great, inhuman roaring, a sound that would strike terror into the hardiest of souls. Leaves crunched beneath boots, hands scrabbled frantically against a rocky cliff face.
Another bout of snarling, chillingly close. Heads turned, eyes widened.
A single warning.
“Arthur, look out!”
A sickening tearing, followed by a pained gasp.
“No!”
Morgana had been visiting a lady who had just given birth to her third child, and so only heard the commotion after she left. She noticed the servants whispering, their eyes wide as they peered out of windows and around corners. Morgana raised an inquiring eyebrow at more than one group of people, but they merely ducked their heads and hurried on their way.
When she made it back to her chambers, Gwen was there, standing and pacing around the room, her expression distressed and fretful.
“Gwen?” Morgana asked as she closed the door behind her. “Whatever is the matter?”
Gwen stared at her. “M-My lady,” she said quietly, her fingers wringing at the fabric of her apron. “It… Prince Arthur and his company came back a short while ago…”
Morgana eyed her handmaiden. Gwen had never confided her feelings toward Arthur in her, even after it had slowly become obvious to her and she had more than hinted that she was aware of it. Still, Gwen was clearly upset. “Is Arthur injured?” Morgana demanded, alarmed, memories of Arthur being dragged back to Camelot by Merlin and a small group of injured knights coming to mind. Not again…
Thankfully, Gwen shook her head. “N-Not Arthur…” she replied.
A small feeling of relief shot through her. Morgana had no desire to relive those horrific days. “Then who?”
“M-Merlin…”
All relief vanished and Morgana could feel her blood freeze in her veins. “M… Merlin?” she whispered. No…
She turned on her heel, threw the door open, and tore down the corridors. She didn’t even care if Gwen followed her.
Morgana wasn’t oblivious to her surroundings; she never had been. She knew that Merlin was magical, just as she was. Though he had not admitted as much to her - really, why was everyone trying to avoid talking to her? - she was by no means an idiot. She had lost count of the times she had seen Arthur die in her dreams, only to see those dreams be thwarted, just barely and usually with Merlin being involved. That, and watching his eyes flare from blue to gold, making the knife in Aredian’s hand sizzle in his hand, really took off any veil of secrecy.
She had been angry at first, furious that he would dance around the subject of magic, then accept that she was a sorceress of some kind, but not tell her the truth about himself. Morgana had trusted him with her life, with a secret that could easily get her killed if Uther ever discovered it, why did he not show her the same respect?
It had taken time to work through that anger, but eventually she had come to accept that Merlin would tell her in his own time, and until that time came, she could only do what she could to protect him, to keep him at Arthur’s side, where he belonged.
But now this? What had happened to Merlin?
She wound her way through the castle, finally coming to the staircase that led up to Gaius’ chambers. Her skirts clutched tightly in her hands, Morgana hurried up the steps. As she approached the landing, however, her heart jumped into her throat.
Arthur stood outside the door, still clad in his hunting clothes, and covered in blood. It was all over his clothes, his hands. There was even a smear of it on his cheek.
Her stomach heaved a little, but she did her best to ignore it. “Arthur,” she whispered.
He turned to face her, clearly having not noticed her approach, and cringed when he saw her.
“What happened?” she demanded.
“Morgana, I don’t think -”
“What happened?”
Arthur rubbed the back of his head with a bloody hand, and it came back cleaner than what it was before, which caused them both to wince. “There was… I don’t know what it was,” he said, his blue eyes suspiciously vacant and continually darting toward the closed door. “We thought we were hunting a boar, all of the signs were there, but it came out of nowhere… It knocked three knights across the clearing before we even knew what was happening. We tried to retreat, but it followed. I… A group of us were cornered up against a sheer cliff, so we tried to climb.” Arthur paused, taking a shaky breath. “I was starting to go up when it charged right at me… but Merlin, he came out of nowhere…”
Morgana heard Gwen’s quiet moan of distress from behind her, but she did not turn. Instead, her own eyes were riveted on the door.
She had no idea how long the three of them stood there, waiting for any sign of movement from inside. No one even thought of going to Uther to explain what had happened. No one was going to move.
It was nearly dusk by the time the door finally opened. Gaius stepped out, clearly exhausted. His robe too was covered in blood.
Merlin’s blood. Morgana bit her lip against the tears that threatened.
“Gaius?” Arthur’s voice was surprisingly filled with fear.
The old man glanced at him. “The boy’s alive,” he told them. “There does not appear to be any organ damage, but it is too early to tell for certain. He’s lost an extreme amount of blood, and it’s made him weak.” Gaius sighed. “He must make it through the night if he is to have any chance at all.”
Morgana’s hands clenched. She opened her mouth to speak, but Arthur beat her to it. “May we see him?”
Gaius did not answer immediately, his sharp eyes instead singling each of them out, measuring them. “One at a time,” he finally responded, “and only for a few moments. Rest is his only hope.”
Arthur went in first, and Morgana did not have to eavesdrop to know what her foster brother would have to say to Merlin - semi-stern promises of lectures for nearly getting himself killed, threatening him with the stocks if he did not get better. Gwen went next, no doubt speaking to him softly and brushing his hair from his brow while trying not to remember the last time she had seen him laid out so.
Morgana did not move from her spot while she waited, but her mind raced. How was it she had not seen this coming? Her visions were hardly clear on the subject, but she knew Merlin’s importance. He was just as vital to the future as Arthur was. Arthur would be king one day, and Merlin… Merlin would be at his side. How in the world could she not have been warned that this was coming? A sign that this would not be overly important, and that he would recover, perhaps? She had been taking Gaius’ latest concoction to ease the dreams for nearly four days now, and it seemed to have been working. Was this the cost? Had she missed the warning of her dreams simply for a few hours more of sleep?
Gwen stepped outside, wiping her eyes with her fingers. She and Arthur seemed to gravitate close together, but Morgana could not bring herself to care overly much. Biting her lip again, she brushed past them and into Gaius’ chambers.
The table had clearly been swept clean when Merlin had been brought in wounded, because a mess of broken glass and upended potions’ ingredients still littered the floor at one end. Morgana’s eyes, though, had landed on Merlin, and she nearly cried out.
He was pale, paler than she had ever seen him. The young man looked as though a good, strong shove could finish him off. He was shirtless, but his torso was thickly wrapped with bandages, and Morgana didn’t doubt that there were many, many stitches beneath them. Gaius had been in here for hours. The table beneath him was stained with blood.
She inched forward, and one of her hands moved to grasp one of his gently, while the other reached up to stroke his cheek.
“M-Merlin,” Morgana whispered, but then stopped. What was she supposed to say? “What were you thinking, you idiot?” That much was obvious - he was thinking about saving Arthur, as always. It wasn’t the first time the young man had sacrificed himself for the sake of his prince. What about, “Wake up”? No, Gaius was right. He needed to rest.
Perhaps, “Don’t die, I love you”?
Morgana bit her lip against the sob that threatened to bubble up. Gods above, did she really love the gangly and endearingly awkward servant? The young man who focused on little more than keeping Arthur alive and moving toward becoming a great king, so much so that he was often oblivious to anything else, even his own safety? She had a sudden urge to laugh at the absurdness of the situation.
“You must get through this, Merlin,” she finally settled on saying, firmly pushing this new revelation down. Now was not the time to think of such things. Right now she had to worry about Merlin surviving the night. “Arthur is alive and safe,” she assured him, squeezing his hand carefully, “thanks to you. Now you have to heal.”
Biting her lip, Morgana stared at the unconscious man for several moments, and then stepped a little closer. She leaned down and pressed her lips against his in a chaste kiss. He did not respond, but she did not expect him to. “Fight, Merlin. We need you,” she breathed against his lips.
I need you.
She straightened again and forced herself to leave, knowing that if she didn’t go now, not even Gaius would be able to force her out. Stepping outside, Morgana found the others still waiting and even saw Uther approaching, coming up the same steps she’d flown up earlier.
“Arthur,” the king said, sounding slightly out of breath. “Sir Leon informed me of what happened. Are you all right?” The king’s eyes widened as he took in Arthur’s disheveled appearance and crimson-stained clothing. “Dear God -”
“I’m fine, Father,” Arthur cut him off. “It’s not mine. It’s Merlin’s.” The exhaustion in his voice was thick.
Morgana watched Uther’s eyes flicker briefly from his son to her, or rather, the door behind her. “Is he…?”
“He’s alive for now, Sire,” Gaius supplied, and then turned to Arthur. “Your Highness, there’s nothing you can do here. I recommend you retire and get some rest.”
Arthur looked like he wanted to protest, but a stern glance from the physician stalled him, so he nodded. “Send someone if…”
“Of course,” Gaius assured him.
Morgana watched Arthur leave slowly. Uther walked with him, every inch the concerned parent. Arthur didn’t appear to react much to his father’s questions.
“My lady,” Gaius said, distracting her. “You should go also. You need to sleep.”
She too wanted to stay, but no doubt Gaius would refuse to allow it. Sighing, she agreed.
“Do you have any more of your sleeping draught?” he asked her, his voice softening ever so slightly.
Morgana pressed her lips together, annoyed. This was yet another source of irritation for her - Gaius’ continued efforts to drug away her abilities. Granted, the sleeping draughts helped her get some much-needed rest when the nightmares became too much, but being reminded of it constantly was wearisome. And given what had just occurred with Merlin, the very possibility that the draughts had prevented her dreams from warning her made Morgana shiver.
However, to ease Gaius’ mind, she replied, “I have enough for a few days yet.”
The relief on the old man’s face was telling, and Morgana let it stay there. He had been through enough tonight, having had to stitch back together the boy he thought of as his own child.
Gwen followed Morgana on the trek back to her chambers. The handmaid helped her out of her dress and into one of her warmer nightgowns to ward off the evening chill. Thank goodness one of the other servants had kept the fire going in their absence.
“Do you wish me to stay, my lady?” Gwen asked.
Morgana rubbed her arms, warming herself by the fire, and shook her head. “I’ll be all right, Gwen. Go home, get some sleep.” She took a deep breath, adding after a moment, “If something… if something happens, I’ll send a page to bring you back.”
Gwen bit her lip, but nodded. Her eyes twitched over to the table beside Morgana’s bed and she said, “The draught is prepared, my lady.”
Morgana glanced at it as well and replied evenly, “Thank you. Goodnight.”
Once the door closed behind Gwen, Morgana sat down on her bed and stared at the tiny bottle. She was exhausted, yes, and in desperate need of sleep, but after what had happened to Merlin today, what could still happen…
Clenching her teeth, Morgana took the bottle and poured its contents into a nearby potted plant, before she could change her mind.
She had to know…
Arthur kneels beside a bed, grey as death. Gaius slumps, defeated.
Someone weeps.
Arthur bears a crown and a sword, his expression devoid of any levity.
“Arthur Pendragon is the Once and Future King, who will unite the land of Albion.”
Invaders cross the sea.
“We must work together!”
Arthur goes unheeded. Kings squabble like children. Sorcerers stand by and do nothing.
“Without you, Arthur will never succeed. Without you, there will be no Albion.”
The lands burn. Anyone who resists dies beneath the sword, men, women, and children alike.
Arthur falls. Camelot alights.
Gwen stands in the Great Hall alone. The doors shudder and burst open.
Gwen cuts her own throat, her blood spilling down her front.
Darkness.
“Do not let the boy die, Morgan le Fey. If he fails, so too will all of us.”
Morgana did not wake screaming, as she so often did, but her heart pounded fiercely against her chest and her breaths came in heaving gasps. The fire had long since cooled, but she did not notice the cool air. There was only one thought on her mind - she had to get to Merlin. Now.
Shoving the blankets aside, Morgana grabbed her robe from its customary peg - thank the gods for Gwen keeping everything in order - and threw it on before running out of the room. She didn’t even bother putting her boots on, instead making due with the thin slippers she often wore in the privacy of her chambers.
It was still quite early, and so there were few servants up and about. She passed a few guards, but didn’t bother acknowledging them. She knew her presence would be noted, and word would reach Uther and Arthur that she was out racing through the corridors toward Gaius’ chambers. There was not much time.
When she finally made it there, Morgana could hear Gaius muttering and cursing even with the door closed. Grasping the door handle, Morgana lifted it and pushed the door open.
The physician was leaning over Merlin’s prone form, his white head pressed against the young man’s chest. “No, Merlin,” Gaius muttered, “not like this, my boy, not like this…”
Something began to burn and tremble inside of Morgana, coupled with terror the likes of which she had never known. Part of her yearned to flee, to spare herself the sight of Merlin succumbing to death, but then she recalled the dream, of how Merlin’s death would be the destruction of them all. She could not fail, not now.
Gathering her courage, she stepped further into the room, slamming the door shut behind her and locking it. “Gaius.”
He jerked at her voice, looking at her. “My lady,” he started.
Morgana cut him off. “He is dying,” she stated, her calm, even voice belying her inner turmoil. “He can’t. He mustn’t.”
“I… I do not know what else to do,” Gaius said, his voice almost shaking with suppressed grief. “There must be some internal damage that I could not see…”
“Get your herbs, Gaius,” Morgana found herself ordering. “Be ready to clean and pack the wound. I will take care of the rest.”
What in the gods’ names was she doing? Her rational mind questioned her actions persistently, but Morgana was beyond any kind of rationality at this point. She did not know what she was behaving on right now - magic, instinct? - but she dared not fight it. Not when Merlin’s life and the future of the world relied on her.
Thankfully, Gaius did not waste time questioning her. After washing her hands in a nearby basin, together they tore the dirty bandages from the young man’s unresponsive body. The skin around the stitched areas was a sickly-looking yellow.
The burning sensation inside of Morgana increased, and she placed trembling hands on Merlin’s skin, on either side of the stitches. Closing her eyes, she felt… something inside of her lash out, down her arms, through her hands and fingers, and into Merlin’s body. She only vaguely heard Gaius’ shocked gasp.
Morgana felt as though she was on fire, as though flames were sweeping inside and outside of her body, cleansing and healing any hurt. It was intoxicating, the feeling of someone injured and sick being made hale and whole once more. If this was what Uther called the corruption of magic, then let it corrupt her!
Stay with me, Merlin, she felt herself call to him. Don’t leave me here alone.
The feeling slowly faded, though how much time passed, Morgana had no idea. Slowly she opened her eyes again and found Gaius smearing some kind of cleansing paste on the stitched area. The infection appeared gone, replaced by a healthy pink color. She slowly sank down onto the bench, feeling exhausted, but still managed to help re-bandage Merlin’s wounds. Just as they finished, someone tried to enter the chambers, but was stopped by the locked door.
The person banged on the door, and there was an urgent shout from outside. “Gaius?!”
Arthur.
Morgana looked at Gaius. He returned her stare. There was no revulsion in his eyes, only weary acceptance and… gratitude. “Thank you, my dear,” he whispered. “Thank you.” He then moved away to the door before she could respond. The physician unlocked the door and opened it, letting Arthur inside. The prince’s eyes immediately set on Morgana.
“What is happening?” he demanded. “The guards said you were running around as though a monster was nipping at your heels. Is it your nightmares again?”
Morgana watched Arthur’s eyes slide from her to Merlin beside her even as he asked after her. Or, more specifically, where she had clasped Merlin’s hand in her own. She didn’t bother letting go. She had never cared for convention, and she was too tired to start now.
“Yes,” she lied. “I did have a nightmare. I came for a draught, but Merlin… was in a bad way when I got here. Gaius was attempting to clean the wounds, but Merlin’s fever made things difficult. I sat with him and talked to him, trying to keep him calm while Gaius worked.”
Arthur kept staring, but nodded. “I see,” he said slowly, and then turned to Gaius. “Has there been any change?”
“This recent episode aside, I believe Merlin is holding his own,” Gaius said. “The herbs are preventing infection. We may have passed the worst.”
Relief swept over Arthur’s fair features. “Thank God,” he muttered.
Thank magic, Morgana wanted to say. It was magic that brought Merlin to you, Arthur, and it was magic that anchored him to this world. Hopefully magic will continue to keep you together.
A yawn escaped her at that point. She needed to sleep. The burning sensation was long gone, as were any lingering feelings of dread. Gaius was right. They were past the worst. Merlin would live.
Arthur noticed her fatigue and said, “Come Morgana, I’ll escort you back to your chambers.”
“Indeed, my lady, you should try to get a little more sleep before the day begins,” Gaius supported. He held out a small vial to her. “This should help.” However, he mouthed ‘water’ to her immediately after, out of Arthur’s sight.
Morgana nodded. “Yes, thank you, Gaius.”
Arthur offered her his arm as he escorted her out, leaving Merlin to Gaius’ care. She leaned on him tiredly, but some part of her mind was still on what she had done. Before this, she had used her magic mainly for little tricks, lighting a candle, calling her brush to her hand from across the room. This, though, this was different, and it felt… fulfilling.
She’d have to think on that more later.
“… she who
is higher becomes a doctor in the art of healing and
exceeds her sisters in excellent form. Morgen is her
name, and she has learned what usefulness all the
herbs bear so that she may cure sick bodies.”
“Avalon”, from the Vita Merlini
by Geoffrey of Monmouth