Chapter Text
Merlyn was high in the air, her breath frosty in her lungs and the sweet tang of would-be rain clouds settled heavily in the back of her throat. A fat, full moon hung low in the sky and bathed the sea, below her, in light. The salty water sprayed upward from the ocean and tickled her nose as she dipped and dove through the clouds. There was heavy, ancient magic flowing through these sea currents; the richness of it soothed the worst of the near-everpresent ache in her shoulders and back.
The dawn crept lazily across the horizon, bright pink and orange fighting for dominance over the sky, neither quite winning over the other as the sun began its ascent. Sea birds were waking to satisfy their hunger, cawing at others who got too close. None dared to make a noise at her, though, and a feral grin spread across her features as a result.
Purposefully, she chased after the sea scavengers and delighted in the way they scattered. Deep chuckling rumbled in her chest and she stretched her wings in contentment, settling into a low flight just above the surface of the water. She dipped a clawed paw into the water, then another, relishing in its cool touch. She sighed, believing that she could live in this moment forever.
Then, everything went dark - she saw stone stalactites and stalagmites formed from years of erosion. Darkness beyond them, and little else. The sensation of her skin, dry and chafing, pulsing in time with the collar that trapped her neck in cold iron. The heavy chains that weighed her down were embedded deeply into the ground of the cavescious prison she’d found herself in. A profound sadness twisted her heart and stomach, nearly making her sick with grief over all that she had lost.
When Merlyn opened her eyes, a vibrant gold lit her room despite the darkness of night.
“Gwen!” Merlyn called happily, lifting the hem of her green dress to jog without tripping. Gwen spun around on the castle steps, arms laden with soiled sheets, and caught Merlyn’s eye with a smile.
“Hello, Merlyn.” She greeted once the young woman had caught up with her. “How are you?” The peasant girl smiled wide as they kept pace through the grand halls.
“I’m well! Just finished delivering Gaius’ tonics through some of the lower town - I’ve only a few left to deliver before my lessons start. How about yourself?” Gwen shrugged her shoulders.
“I don’t suppose I can complain. … You know, I saw you the other day.” Merlyn cocked her head.
“The other day? What do you mean?” Gwen’s smile twitched into an almost conspiratorial grin.
“The other day! You know, with the prince!” Merlyn blinked before remembrance spread across her features.
“Oh! I didn’t know he was the prince at the time. He was just being so dreadful to that poor man, Morris.” Gwen chuckled good-naturedly.
“Well, I thought it was really brave. Prince Arthur can be a bit of a bully, especially to the servants. You know, I think he actually sacked Morris the other day.” Merlyn gasped.
“Oh no! I hope I didn’t cause that!” Gwen shrugged.
“It’s probably a relief for Morris, anyway.” Merlyn wasn’t completely convinced but also didn’t necessarily doubt it - who would want to work for a prat like that anyway?
She and Gwen parted ways at the physician’s quarters, where Merlyn was to pick up her last round of deliveries for the day. After something to eat, hopefully, her stomach reminded her with a pang. She found Gaius looking rather unpleasant - his eyebrow raised in admonition and a hard frown on his wrinkled lips. Merlyn didn’t have to guess why he was upset as Gaius immediately set into her once the door was closed.
“Your mother asked me to look after you, Merlyn, and it’d be easier on me if you kept your head down! Rumors travel, as I’m sure you’re well aware, and rumors are the last thing that a girl like you needs! I'd better not hear more tales of wayward, vigilante peasant women, understood?” Merlyn’s eyes shot downward, guilt on her features.
“Yes, sir.” Merlyn agreed demurely and, perhaps in an attempt to soothe her mentor’s frustration, took up the broom and ventured to the hearth. With a sigh, Gaius turned to his cauldron, most of his ire having seemed to ebb once he’d said his piece. After a moment of quiet, with each attending to their chores, Gaius spoke.
“Merlyn,” Gaius began conversationally, though his eyes shot to the door quickly before he continued, “what does your mother say about your gifts?” Merlyn glanced up from sweeping before her eyes darted back to the floor.
“Well, that… I’m different. That I’m special.” Gaius nodded, adding an herb to the frothing concoction he was stirring.
“You are special,” he confirmed with a serious look to the busily moving young woman, “the likes of which I’ve never seen before.” At this, Merlin looked up with a puzzled expression and her motion stopped.
“What do you mean?” Gaius tilted his head thoughtfully.
“Well, magic requires spells, incantations; the practice takes years of study but what I saw you do was… elemental . Instinctive, even.” Merlyn made a noise in the back of her throat, shrugged, and continued sweeping.
“What’s the point if it can’t be used?” She grumbled bitterly, mostly to herself, and Gaius responded with a sigh.
“That, I don’t know - you are a curiosity, Merlyn. A wonder. You pose a question that has never been asked before.” Merlyn seemed awkward, discarding her collected dust into a bin. Setting the broom back against the wall next to the hearth, she shifted her weight for a moment, debating something in her head. Gaius waited patiently.
“Did you ever study magic?” The words were sudden and blurted out all at once, as if she hadn’t meant to ask her question as bluntly as she had. Gaius chuckled and shook his head.
“Uther banned all such practices 20 years ago.” That’s not an answer, Merlyn thought to herself.
“Why?” She asked and Gaius seemed to deflate at the question. Merlyn wondered what he must have seen if it was so painful for him to dredge up memories from so long ago.
“People used magic for the wrong end at that time, it threw the natural order into chaos. Uther made it his mission to destroy everything from back then. Even the dragons.” Merlyn’s back straightened, thinking of the stories her mother used to tell her. Of seeing their long, scaly bodies dancing through the air during mating season. Merlyn had never beheld anything like that in her life, and had always imagined what it must have been like to see.
“What, all of them?” Gaius tilted his head.
“There was one dragon he chose not to kill. He keeps it as an example and has it imprisoned in a cave deep beneath the castle, where no one can free it.” Merlyn gasped, her eyebrows creased in pity for the creature she’d never known.
“That’s awful ! How cruel!” Gaius hummed in a way that convinced Merlyn that he agreed, but wouldn’t say it.
“Come here now, eat.” He gestured to a bowl behind him that Merlyn hadn’t seen upon entering, more focused on the anger of her mentor. She sat and ate quietly, lost in thoughts of the lonely creature that could be trapped far beneath their feet. So far away in her own head, Merlyn almost didn’t notice when Gaius spoke again.
“When you finish that, on your deliveries this afternoon I need you to make an extra stop.” He held up a bottle of dark yellow sludge that Merlyn was sure would taste dreadful. “I need you to take a preparation for Lady Helen, she needs it for her voice.” Merlyn hummed in understanding through a mouthful of soup, shaking off her thoughts as Gaius began giving her directions to Lady Helen’s rooms. It would do her no good getting upset over trapped dragons, not when there was nothing she could do about it.
Being that she was more accustomed to the castle grounds, thanks to yesterday’ deliveries, Merlyn was able to complete the majority of her route with some haste. Finding herself at Lady Helen’s door in short succession, Merlyn knocked and called out her presence only to receive no answer. Peeking her head into the room, Merlyn discovered it empty and she shrugged.
Figuring she’d leave the tonic on the dining table, Merlyn made her way into the room. Setting the yellow bottle down, Merlyn made her way to leave but was distracted by the various assortment of odd things scattered across the large table. With pursed lips and a furrowed brow, Merlyn picked up a straw doll and immediately felt a tingling on her palm and down her arm. Magic.
Blinking in surprise, and suddenly feeling as though she was being far too intrusive, Merlyn dropped the doll back onto the table and turned around to leave. When she opened the door, she nearly barreled into a woman entering the rooms - Lady Helen. Exclaiming in surprise, Merlyn dipped into a clumsy curtsy and smiled awkwardly. The noblewoman looked sharply at her.
“What are you doing in here?” She asked with a stern tone and Merlyn balked.
“Erm, well I-” She turned around and quickly grabbed the yellow concoction, her eyes darting up when her peripherals caught movement in the mirror. She only glanced at the mirror for a moment, not letting her eyes linger for fear of discovery, but the moment showed her plenty. Merlyn swallowed before turning back around and plastering an apologetic smile on her face.
“I have this tonic from the court physician, for you. It’s a preparation to soothe your throat, Milady.” She handed her the bottle and curtsied again, though with far smoother movements. “I’m the physician’s apprentice - should you need anything for your health, we are just down the stairs!” Merlyn hoped her voice wasn't as squeaky as it sounded to her ears. When the woman gave her a fake smile in dismissal, Merlyn hightailed it out of the room at record speed. She thanked all the gods that be that the woman hadn’t noticed that Merlyn had seen more than what she probably should have seen.
Chest heaving, Merlyn only allowed herself to stop once she was safely in Gaius’ quarters. The elderly physician looked her up and down with a worried expression.
“Merlyn! You look as though you’ve seen a ghost! What is it?” Mouth opening and closing uselessly, Merlyn huffed and she shook her head. She then ventured to the water bucket and drank straight from the scoop. Gaius, for his part, looked even more concerned by the time Merlyn found her words.
“Lady Helen is not a Lady at all! She’s the old woman - the one from the courtyard, whose son was killed. I think she’s using magic to change her face!” Less concerned and more bewildered, Gaius frowned at her.
“What makes you think so?” Merlyn bit the inside of her cheek.
“Well, she wasn’t there when I went to deliver the tonic, so I was going to put it on the table for when she got back.” Gaius nodded at her explanation and Merlyn continued. “On the table there were all sorts of strange things - beads, cloth, some old books. And then there was this doll!” Shaking her head, Merlyn continued in an imploring tone.
“I saw her face in the mirror - it's not the way she appears in person, it's the old woman.” Gaius seemed to think this over but settled for placing his hand on her shoulder. He thumbed the back of her neck soothingly.
“My dear girl, I believe you’ve perhaps overexerted yourself.” Merlyn’s jaw dropped.
“What?” Gaius waved a hand, leading her to the attached room.
“It’s partially my fault, I should have let you acclimate a bit more before starting on your lessons. I believe that your long journey, combined with having seen the execution of a sorcerer upon your arrival, has frenzied your mind.” Her cheeks flushed and Merlyn felt her heart rate picking up in frustration.
“You think I imagined it?” Gaius looked at her pointedly and patted her hand in a way that Merlyn couldn’t help but see as chastising.
“I think you are stressed. Lady Helen has been a repeat castle performer for years and I see no difference in her now than before. Go now, try to rest, and see if that clears your mind. Hysteria is quite common in young women but a night’s rest and a hearty breakfast ought to set you straight, my girl.” Merlyn wanted to argue - she wanted to scream , actually. But how would that help her case if Gaius already saw her as hysterical? So, instead of doing what she wanted to do, Merlyn bowed her head, grit her teeth, and agreed to rest.
The moment Gaius left the room, however, Merlyn took to pacing the floor.
“I’m not hysterical.” She whispered to herself, folding her arms across her chest. Merlyn stopped pacing and crawled into the window, watching the sun finish its work for the day.
“I’m not imagining things.”
Blue eyes looked at her curiously. Merlyn sniffed the air and eyed the man before her in turn.
He was no more than seventeen years, with a full head of midnight hair and the beginnings of a beard patching along his jaw. Tall and a tad gangly, still not quite grown into himself, the magic that ran through the young dragonlord’s veins was antsy. The boy was eager, ready to prove himself; naïve but brave.
“My father…” Merlyn knew - his father was dead. She wouldn’t be here, otherwise. She waited, patiently. The boy swallowed and hesitantly offered his hand to her. She sniffed it, getting a closer sense of what magic lay in the man’s veins. The teenager offered a small smile.
“My name is Balinor.”
Everything changed.
Those same blue eyes, aged and heavy with grief. His arms were bound behind his back, he was on his knees. Red knights surrounded them and Merlyn knew immediately that this was a trap. A druid child, pale and unmoving on the ground in front of the restrained warlock, seemed to have been bait for the mortal man’s heart in order to call his kin. To be trapped .
She fought viciously with fire and magic; the dragonlord which called her managed to escape the clutches of Uther Pendragon. She did not.
The iron chains were freezing cold and she could feel them draining her. Her magic, her energy, her will to continue fighting… She pushed up on her limbs, willing her wings to move, but it was of little use. Uther, overseeing her downfall with a gleeful light in his eye, had dozens of men with far too many chains at the ready. They were tangled in her wings, wrapped around her body, and digging painfully into her scales.
She couldn’t continue fighting, but she refused to yield. Better death than imprisonment. But the magic-draining chains were too effective a sedative, and she slumped to the forest floor bonelessly.
When Merlyn woke for breakfast the next morning, she was quiet as Gaius regarded her.
“How are you feeling, Merlyn?” She shrugged her shoulders. To be honest, she felt better today if for no other reason than she’d donned her leather breeches and a blue tunic instead of either of her dresses (both of which could stand for a washing, really). After having spent the majority of the night gazing at stars from her window perch, her frustration at being called hysterical had cooled slightly.
“I feel fine, Gaius, honest.” After eyeing her a moment more, Gaius nodded to himself.
“Very well, then. Once you finish up breakfast, I’d like you to fetch some herbs for me. You should find them just outside the city walls, to the east. I need henbane, wormwood, and sorrel.” Nodding, Merlyn hastily chowed down on her porridge. Finishing in record time, Merlyn grabbed a large basket and was nearly out the door when Gaius stopped her.
“Ah,” Gaius exclaimed, turning around and producing a bottle full of dark green liquid. “Merlyn, on your way, please bring this to Lady Morgana. Poor girl has been suffering nightmares.” Bottle now in hand, Merlyn acknowledged her mentor and then hurried through the door.
“I know the feeling.” Merlyn murmured to herself, mentally tracing her way through the castle in order to find Lady Morgana’s chambers. Arriving in due time, she found Lady Morgana’s back, the latter facing a mirror. Without turning to see who her room’s newest occupant was, the noble began to speak in a sweet, airy voice.
“You know, I’ve been thinking about Arthur.” She said, turning from the mirror and heading further into her room. The noblewoman went behind her dressing screen and Merlyn idly wondered if she should announce her presence. Morgana spoke again before she could come to a decision.
“I wouldn’t touch him with a lance pole.” She admitted dryly. A pale hand reached out from behind the screen and gestured to a pile of dark fabric on a nearby chaise. “Pass me that dress, will you, Gwen?” Upon hearing a familiar name, Merlyn’s overly large ears perked up. Had Gwen mentioned she was Lady Morgana’s personal servant? She knew Gwen had a position in the castle but hadn’t been sure what she did until now.
“I mean, the man’s a total jester.” Morgana continued, chuckling softly under her breath. Not thinking to clarify who she was, and also quite enjoying where this one-sided conversation was heading, Merlyn merely handed the dress over the screen.
“I mean, just because I’m the king’s ward doesn’t mean that I have to accompany him to the feast, does it?” Merlyn froze once the dress was taken from her hands, realizing that Morgana wanted an answer. With a mental shrug, Merlyn decided that she may as well give her one.
“Mm-mmm.” She hummed in the negative, turning back around with the lady’s tincture still in hand.
“If he wants me to go with him, he should ask, but he hasn’t. Do you know what that means?”
“Hm?”
“It means I’m going by myself!” The young noblewoman declared and Merlyn broke into a grin. The young witch decided right there that she liked Lady Morgana, if for no other reason than her boldness. Merlyn turned around to leave when Morgana called for Gwen.
“I need some help with this fastening.” Merlyn blanked. She could hand a lady her dress, sure, but help her put it on? Merlyn could barely stand to put on her own dresses, the damnable things. Breeches were so much more comfortable.
“Gwen, are you there?”
“I’m here.” Merlyn jumped out of her skin as Gwen entered the room. Thank the gods for Guineviere. Sheepishly grinning at the servant girl and handing her the tincture, Merlyn gave Gwen a quick hug before leaving her to work. Jogging down the citadel steps, Merlyn brushed a sweaty curl away from her brow. Henbane, wormwood, sorrel. Right.
As Merlyn was leaving the castle, she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. Goosebumps raced down her arms and Merlyn suddenly felt far too cold. Swallowing nervously, she glanced around. The area was bustling but there was nothing overtly out of the ordinary. Then she spotted two castle guards carrying a wrapped body to a horse and cart. Against her better judgment, Merlyn slowly approached.
“What happened?”
“What’s it to you?” One of the guards sneered while the other simply rolled his eyes. Merlyn tried to make herself sound important with her next words.
“I work for Gaius, the court physician. If there’s a deadly illness about, I think he should be made aware of it.” The two guards looked between each other and one of them shrugged. The body was placed on the cart and the white sheet removed. It was a young woman with long blonde hair, dressed in servant’s attire. Her wrists were slit. That should have been the end of the investigation but something told Merlyn that these wounds were not the cause of her death. Not with the sense of… wrongness that permeated her remains.
“Satisfied?” The sneering guard asked, wrapping the corpse back up again. Merlyn ducked her head and made her way out towards the city gates. She needed to get the herbs for Gaius. Henbane, wormwood, sorrel. Henbane, wormwood, sorrel… Merlyn tried to get the mantra in her head to drown out the thoughts of the dead servant girl.
And of which curse it was that killed her.
The feast was unlike anything Merlyn had seen before. Though, since arriving in Camelot, Merlyn was steadily becoming used to seeing things she’d never been exposed to back in Ealdor.
Tapestries of red and gold decorated the walls. Candles of all sizes lit up the room brightly despite the lateness of the festivities. Merlyn was transfixed by the sheer amount of color present in the nobility’s wardrobe. Having made cloth dyes out of seasonal flowers with her mother growing up, she wondered how many flowers it took to make a noblewoman’s gown.
Morgana was a vision of red and gold fabric, striding into the ballroom with a glamorous aura about her. The gorgeous woman wore crimson rubies in her ears that twinkled when they caught candlelight. The entire court was enraptured by her entrance, Merlyn no exception. The atmosphere eventually settled, and Merlyn found her eyes looking for a familiar face. She needn’t try very hard, as Gwen approached her. She was carrying a pitcher of wine. The two shared smiles.
“She looks great, doesn’t she?” Merlyn looked back to Morgana and then nodded at Gwen’s observation. Gwen shrugged. “Some people are just born to be queen.”
Merlyn’s eyebrows raised and she thought back to Lady Morgana’s musings about Prince Arthur earlier that day. It sure didn’t seem as though she’d be too thrilled to be married to him and Merlyn couldn’t help but to feel sorry for the young woman.
“Really, you think?” Gwen smiled and nodded.
“I hope so, one day.” She said, almost dreamily, before snapping out of it. “Not that I’d want to be her. Who’d want to marry Arthur?” She chuckled and Merlyn did the same, her eyes wandering to the aforementioned prince, who looked to be in a colorful conversation with Lady Morgana and some other nobles. Merlyn would never admit that he looked… quite nice. His hair was brushed away from his eyes, and his jeweled circlet nearly blended in with his golden hair. He was dressed in ceremonial armor, his gold-embroidered red cape fastened with an ornamental clasp. He threw his head back and barked a laugh at something one of the nobles said and Merlyn felt her pulse quicken.
“Merlyn?” The peasant girl glanced back to her companion and offered a sheepish grin. Before she could say anything, however, Gaius tapped her elbow.
“Come now, enough gossip. We’re here to work.” Gaius gestured to a wine-sick nobleman, heaving over an ornamental pot. Merlyn winced and offered Gwen a wave farewell before following her mentor.
After tending to the worst of the overly-imbibed, the bugles announcing Lady Helen’s operatic performance sounded out and everyone made their way to their seats. Gaius guided Merlyn to a small alcove near the front of the room where she could watch the rest of the evening unfold without being too far in the way. When everyone was settled around the room and the nobility all stood by their seats, Uther took to the front of the hall to make a speech.
“We have enjoyed twenty years of peace and prosperity.” He smiled at his constituents, whom were quiet and attentive as the king spoke. “It has brought the kingdom, and myself, many pleasures.” His smile grew more fond, eyes crinkling as he spoke his next words.
“But few can compare with the honor of introducing Lady Helen of Mora.” He swept into a deep bow and the gathered crowd erupted into applause. Once the king was seated, the rest of the nobility followed suit and everyone waited for the show to begin.
Merlyn fidgeted in place when she saw ‘Lady Helen’s’ golden gown make an appearance at the other end of the banquet hall. Gaius, from his spot at one of the tables set for the castle’s staff, gave her a wary glance, which prompted Merlyn to still (though she wrung her hands nervously behind her back).
The singer took her place on a mounted platform, smiling with tight lips at those gathered to watch her perform. With a flare of her golden skirts, she curtsied at the royals and raised her arms. Beginning in a soft voice, which grew in volume but retained warmth, the woman began to sing. Her voice was beautiful and it reverberated pleasantly against the stone chamber, sending quiet echoes of her lilting croon down the attached castle corridors. The lady swept off of her platform with grace, swaying in time with her tune with her arms keeping tempo as she twirled across the floor. Her floaty movements entranced the eye and lulled the room into a gentle stupor.
As the music continued, Merlyn felt goosebumps raise on her arms. Hair standing on end and suddenly alert, Merlyn blinked the grogginess out of her eyes and stared in horror at the room around her.
Everyone had drifted into a deep doze, heads lolling or resting on folded arms and bodies slack in their seats. Servants with spilled wine collapsed against the walls, mouths open and snoring loudly. Merlyn slammed her hands against the sides of her head and retreated into the shadow of a nearby column so as not to be seen by the enchantress.
The heat in the room quickly dissipated, and the candles extinguished themselves one by one. Cobwebs and spiderfiber formed exponentially, wrapped around the many candelabras and intricate headdresses of the court. A fine layer of dust formed over the cursed sleepers and it seemed as though all life in the room had been reduced to the dancing sorceress that slowly made her way to the royal table.
As the woman’s song reached a crescendo, she pulled a silver dagger from inside her gown. Her wild eyes were fixated on Prince Arthur and Merlyn gaped in horror. Her gaze desperately searching for a way to help without endangering herself or anyone else, her eyes fell upon the chandelier above the sorceress. Glancing back down, Merlyn gasped when the arm holding the dagger reared back, ready to attack. Her eyes flashed brilliantly and suddenly, there was a missing link between the chandelier and the ceiling.
With a wretched crash, during which Merlyn averted her eyes, the still-encanting woman was trapped under the weight of the iron light fixture. Slowly, the spell around the room lifted - the enchantress’ magical hold breaking and finally revealing her status as an imposter.
The occupants of the room opened bleary eyes, pulling cobwebs from their forms and brushing the gathered dust from their clothes. Uther Pendragon, still dazed from the spell, looked down in bafflement at the elderly woman that lay partially-crushed at his feet. As the woman slowly moved to support her upper body, he and other members of the court stood. With a face full of hatred, in a last ditch effort to complete her task before death, she flung the dagger at Prince Arthur. Like everyone else, he was still recovering from the effects of the sleeping spell, and Merlyn knew that his reflexes - no matter how he’d boasted them the other day with his noble friends - would not save his life.
Her magic did nearly the same thing it had when Gaius had fallen. Instead of a bed being wrenched into place, however, Merlyn found herself being thrown bodily into the prince’s side. Her feet barely touched the ground as she was flung the distance between her and the prince of Camelot.
With the full weight of an armored young man on top of her, Merlyn almost didn’t register the sound of the dagger being stuck into the back of the chair. Obviously rattled by the attempt on his life, Arthur didn’t move at first, until Merlyn started pushing at his chest with a pronounced blush on her face. Immediately becoming aware of their position, Arthur scrambled to his feet and helped Merlyn to do the same.
His expression was unreadable, and Merlyn supposed he was still in shock. She would be too, she imagined, if someone had just tried to kill her. Nearly succeeded, too . Merlyn thought darkly, her eyes surreptitiously glancing over the prince’s form to check for harm. None was to be found - unless you counted him looking pale and sweaty.
Uther stepped forward, something like wonder in his eyes.
Well, shit. Was the first thought through Merlyn’s head. I’m going to die. Was the second.
“You saved my boy’s life.” He said quietly, almost reverently. Merlyn could have deflated but realized she wasn’t out of the woods yet. Her posture stiffened and she bowed her head.
“A debt must be repaid.” Uther announced, taking her chin. Merlyn averted her eyes. Her gaze found Gaius, and she begged silently for help. Thankfully realizing his ward’s need for assistance, Gaius stood.
“Your majesty - may I present my apprentice, Merlyn.” Uther turned his attention to Gaius and, thankfully, released Merlyn’s chin. She hastily took a step backward and nearly bumped into Arthur, whom she realized was staring at her intently. Gulping, she looked down.
“Apprentice, Gaius? You’re not thinking of retiring now, are you?” Uther spoke, his tone rather light considering the fact the corpse of the sorceress was not yet cool. Gaius bowed.
“I am not as young as I used to be, Sire. I believe it prudent to think of such matters.” Uther nodded his agreement.
“Indeed.” He turned his attention back to Merlyn, who reluctantly looked up from her boots to meet the king’s stormy gaze. “This merits something quite special; you shall be rewarded with a position in the royal household.” The king placed a heavy, gauntleted hand on Merlyn’s scrawny shoulder, engulfing it entirely. The young witch gulped, praying that this position would keep her as far away from the pyre as possible.
“When Gaius has finished with your instruction, you shall be the Court Physician attending to my son. Until then - you shall be appointed his personal healer and that of his knights, overseen by your mentor’s guidance.” The king nodded to Gaius, who gestured for Merlyn to come to his side. After a hasty bow, and one last glance at the baffled prince, she scrambled behind Gaius’ robes and tried to sink into the background. Arthur, for his part, looked as though he wanted to protest Merlyn’s new station (something which Merlyn wouldn’t have minded). A stern look from the king prevented him from saying anything, however.
As members of the court applauded this turn of events, Merlyn shrank into the shadow of her mentor. It wasn’t long before Gaius took pity on her and escorted the both of them back to the physician’s chambers. After washing and changing into her night clothes, Merlyn found herself leaning against the window to peer out at the sky. A knock sounded on her door, breaking the young woman’s train of thought.
“Come in.” She called and Gaius entered, something heavy and cloth-wrapped in his hands. Merlyn, curious, stepped down from her moonlit perch and approached her mentor.
“It seems I owe you an apology, my girl.” Merlyn wondered why it was so much of a pick-me-up to hear someone else admit to you that they were wrong. Merlyn tried not to let too much of her preening satisfaction show but Gaius seemed to pick up on it anyway, as he gave her a raised eyebrow. He continued, nonetheless, and Merlyn tamped down any smugness that threatened to sneak into her smile.
“I should have realized that with your… unique talent, you may have seen something that I could not. That most would not.” With the hand that wasn’t holding the red cloth-bound object, he led her to the bed and sat down. With a soft but meaningful look in his dark blue eyes, he squeezed Merlyn’s hand.
“I saw how you saved Prince Arthur.” With wide eyes, Merlyn opened her mouth to explain but Gaius released her hand, holding his up to stop her from speaking. “Perhaps, this is the purpose for your gifts, Merlyn. You saved my own life the first day you were in Camelot.” Gaius recalled with a small smile. “With the dangers the prince often faces, magical or otherwise, I believe that you and your magic may be of more use to him in the recent future.” That said, Gaius unwrapped the red cloth from the object he held: a very old leather-bound tome. He placed it onto Merlyn’s lap.
“This book was given to me when I was your age.” The old physician told her and Merlyn smiled gratefully at him. When she opened the book to a random page, instead of finding anatomy drawings or information on medicinal herbs (something she may have expected), she found a drawing of what very clearly was a magical creature, labeled a “hippogriff”. She gaped at Gaius, who cracked into an amused grin.
“I suspect you’ll get more out of it than I ever did; and for a better cause, as well. So long as you make sure to use it for that cause only, and keep that book out of sight.” His eyes bored imploringly into hers and Merlyn snapped out of her wonder to beam excitedly at her uncle.
“Of course! I’ll study every word!” Gaius, again, quietly laughed in a good-natured way before making his way to the door. The old man glanced back to find his niece - true to her word - with her nose buried in the tome. Her blue eyes were bright and her expression was as happy as he’d ever seen.
Smiling softly to himself as he closed the door to the tiny room, Gaius thanked the Triple Goddess for hearing his prayers. Merlyn seemed to have an uncanny luck about her, and Gaius fervently hoped that luck, along with a little bit of magic, would see her through.