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A Remedy to Cure All Ills	By : Ortega Category: M through R > Merlin (BBC) > Merlin (BBC) Views: 1259 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-A Remedy to Cure All Ills
- 1
Camelot was - cold.

Merlin woke up shivering under the thin material of his blanket and he blinked up at the ceiling, residual images from his dreams still burning in his retina and an unmistakable voice echoing in his ears - no, echoing in his mind, like an insistent tug inside of his skull.

Merlin.

The warlock scowled; it had been five days since he had tried to trade his own life to save Arthur's, five days since his mother had stumbled to the doorstep covered in sores and blisters and dying in his arms, and five days since he had lost his temper with the dragon for his deceit.

Sitting up, Merlin pulled absently at the fraying stitching of his bed linens; of course, Gaius now knew that he had been going to the dungeons regularly to speak to the dragon, and once the old physician had regained his strength after the ordeal with Nimueh, he had made sure to catch Merlin upside the head with a scroll for it. Merlin wasn't so sure that he had deserved it; after all, how was he supposed to know that dragons did that sort of thing for fun?

"It's not like there's a guide to this sort of thing." Merlin had protested, and Gaius' eyebrows had made an impressive journey in opposite directions, with one at mid-forehead and the other obscuring the eye entirely - and then he had dropped a massive tome down onto the table in front of him. It was the kind of book that was so large that it tended to collect dust while being read, and by the time one was finished, the first half was obscured by cobwebs.

"Yes there is." Gaius had replied casually, while Merlin peered at the spot between the book at the table, certain that there had been a candlestick there moments ago and wondering if it had been flattened completely.

Gaius had made him read the whole thing - in fact, he was still reading it and he could safely say that his knowledge of Magical and Mythological Creatures was now par none.

He rubbed the heels of his palms into his eyes to fight off the grogginess.

Merlin.

He gritted his teeth and ignored it just the way he had done the last few days; every night and every morning, he would be woken up by the sound of the dragon calling to him, calling for him. If he paid attention to it, Merlin was sure that he could almost hear a note of worry, perhaps concern that he might live up to his angry promise to ensure the dragon was never released from his dungeon prison.

Of course, he wasn't certain he could prevent it either, but he could bluff for now, couldn't he? The dragon hadn't got out so far, after all - it wasn't so farfetched.

But the important part, Merlin had decided, was that everyone was fine and that no ones suspicions had been aroused. Arthur had survived as a result of the physician's miracle medical 'tincture', his mother had been saved by Gaius' selflessness, and Gaius had been saved because of Nimueh's - sacrifice.

Occasionally Merlin winced when he thought about the look that Nimueh had given him and the confidence that had been in her eyes - she had been so certain that he was like her, that he should have somehow fallen into alignment with her twisted Old Religion. Somehow, she had been so sure.

But he hadn't been thinking about all of the implications of it at the time, his eyes had kept drifting to the unmoving figure by the stone altar, the familiar blue robes and thinning white hair of his friend. Right then, all Merlin had been able to think about was Gaius, about getting to Gaius as though he might somehow be able to bring him back from death if he could just be near him - so maybe he hadn't been thinking clearly. Maybe he had lost focus.

Maybe he should have learned a stronger spell.

He touched absently at the bandaging across his torso; it had been a searing, plate-sized burn, and Nimueh must have been under the impression it had finished him - in fact, for a moment Merlin had thought the same thing - but his legs had worked of their own accord and he'd found himself on his feet again. Even several days after the fact, Merlin wasn't certain what he had done, but it had been as though someone had turned off all of the light in his world and had left him standing in a vast black space - nothing had existed there, save for a strange surge that had crept through him, cold and promising.

And he couldn't deny the feeling of power that had rushed through him either; the clouds had gathered and the sky had roiled and obeyed him as he took what the dark had offered and he had watched Nimueh dissappear in a violent burst of electricity that had left bits of her scattered across the grass.

Initially he had felt nothing for what he had just done because he had made a desperate lunge for Gaius before the smoke had even cleared, and he'd pulled the old man into his arms with a desperation he couldn't recall feeling before. For a painfully long moment, Gaius was dead and nothing in the world could have soothed the sharp agony that Merlin had felt for the loss.

And conversely, nothing could have matched his joy when Gaius began to breathe again, and they ended up laughing like idiots in the rainstorm, struck by the insanity of it all and the thrill of having survived it.

It wasn't until later, when things had settled down and they had gotten their stories straight, it wasn't until Arthur was back on his feet and his mother had said her tearful goodbyes - having made a full recovery - that the gravity of the situation had finally hit him. He had sat carefully on his bed and considered what he had done, and while he was aware that his choices had been limited - well, he had killed her, hadn't he? In fact, not just Nimueh - he had been in Camelot for only a short time, scarcely a year serving as Arthur's manservant, and in that time he had ended the lives of four people. Directly, at least.

Of course, all of them had been trying to kill Arthur, so at least there was that, but the knowledge that he had taken lives would occasionally sneak up on Merlin and blindside him at some ungodly hour, leave him shaken to his core. He had gone from being a farmhand in a tiny, distant village, barely able to figure out the functions of a world that consisted of a few dozen people, to being the Prince's personal servant and barely skirting death on a regular basis.

"Merlin?"

Merlin let out a noise of frustration,

"Will you shut up!" he hissed out, and then opened his eyes and nearly scurried back against the headboard because Gaius was standing at the foot of his bed, accosting him with a grizzled eyebrow. There was a stretch of silence, and then Merlin added, while pulling on a shirt, "Not - not you."

Slowly and with great purpose, Gaius turned his head left, turned his head right, turned in a full circle to survey the room, and then turned back to Merlin and rose the offending eyebrow to nearly hairline.

"I see." Gaius said finally; for a moment he looked as though he might probe further, but he shook it off as he tended to do with the boy, "Breakfast is ready, Merlin, but at the rate you're going, you won't have time to eat - the Prince wants to see you."

Of course he did; now that a few days had passed, Arthur had recovered enough to be on his feet - though his colour was still a sickly sort of pallor - he refused to hold still long enough to completely heal. He couldn't appear weak, after all - and especially not to his father.

Merlin stood and grimaced as the burnt skin pulled and twinged, but he fixed Gaius with one of his bright smiles,

"Well, he can wait a few more minutes, can't he?" Merlin said, "After all, if it were an emergency -"

The eyebrow wiggled, and Merlin faltered,

"He's standing in the other room right now, isn't he?" Merlin asked sourly, and Arthur's blonde head popped in, eyes shifting around the room before focusing on him; he scowled at the warlock like the spoiled brat he was.

"Last I checked," Arthur said haughtily, "You were my servant, and therefor you are to come when I order, not whenever you feel like it."

"I see you're feeling better." Merlin said.

"I've been better for days, you might have noticed if you'd been around to do your job." Arthur replied snippily; it was an exaggeration, of course - Merlin had been around, but he had gone a bit slower than he normally would have on account of the injury. An injury that, fortunately or not, no one but Gaius knew about - after all, it was difficult to explain that sort of thing because Merlin knew that any mention of sorcery meant risking his head lobbed off. Ultimately, he much preferred dealing with the Prince's ribbings and a bit of pain over explaining to him - or worse, the king - why he couldn't do his job.

He ended up going without breakfast - he supposed it was his own fault for sleeping late - and he trailed along beside Arthur, only half-listening to the prince's airy insults as they moved towards the castle together.

Merlin.

"Are you even listening to me?" Arthur asked sharply, and Merlin jerked his head up, "Honestly, you've been a complete flake these last few days."

"No more than usual." Merlin countered, poorly, and Arthur raised one fine eyebrow at him.

"Anyways," Arthur said, "I had been told that the source of my healing was a -"

Arthur struggled with the word, aristocratic face twisting with the difficulty,

"'Tincture'," he finished, "From some sort of plant."

"Er," Merlin said, unclear on how he was meant to respond, so he just said: "Yes."

"And this was some sort of miracle cure - some ancient remedy, was it?" Arthur continued, and Merlin realized that the prince was staring at him as they walked, "Only, I'd thought it was Gaius, yet when I look into it, it turns out that you were the one who found it. Is this true, Merlin?"

He didn't give Merlin a chance to reply,

"How did you manage to conjure it?" Arthur asked seriously, and the wording drained some of the blood from Merlin's face - which the prince was continuing to inspect, unblinking.

"I got lucky." Merlin finally got out, and Arthur's jaw shifted, lips pursed slightly; for an instant, something like anger seemed to flicker over the prince's face, but it was quickly replaced by his usual cocky expression.

"That would have to be it." Arthur said arrogantly, walking with swagger as they moved up the staircase, "You're too much of an idiot to manage that sort of thing intentionally anyways."

Merlin paused for an instant, raising his eyebrows,

"Yes, sire." Merlin said finally, and trailed after him.
- 1
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A Remedy to Cure All Ills