Gone
Chapter 6: Gone
There were few instances in Merlin's life that had successfully managed to render him speechless. Even discovering Kilgarrah's presence in the bowels of the palace hadn't frozen his tongue. So when, in that hour of evening when day turned to night, Gwaine woke and spoke his name, Merlin was astonished to discover that his mind had come screeching to a halt.
Merlin was perched over Gwaine, whose sleepy eyes were becoming more and more alert as he watched. He found he was unable to extricate himself by way of pure stupefaction.
"What's going on?"
Another voice suddenly rose from the far side of the room and Merlin finally found it in him to look up and lock eyes with Arthur Pendragon. A week ago those eyes had looked at him in hurt and betrayal. Now they showed only caution and exhaustion.
Out of sheer desperation to protect himself, Merlin retreated into his character of Elladora. She had become him in a way. Confident in ways he could never be, a personality free of allegiance and loyalty. Someone who had no responsibility other than to himself.
Merlin's new found personality, (somewhat similar to Dragoon, if he had to admit it), quickly wormed its way to the front.
"What's going on is you boys almost went and off-ed yourselves in my forest." Arthur's brow crinkled as he tried to remember what happened. He struggled into a half upright position on the cot he was on and took in the room. Around him, as a result of the noise, the other Knights stirred awake. Merlin sighed, head in hands.
"Now look at what you've made me do. They're all waking up." Merlin shook his head and walked to his wall of herbs and poultices, grabbing the ones the boys had made earlier that day. Merlin felt like he was corned suddenly and had to take the position in which he felt safest; in this case behind the table where he made his poultices and table notes on the illnesses of the people that came through Carhaix looking for his help.
As the Knights woke up, one by one, they began taking stock of the situation. Merlin though nervous at first from having to speak directly to them, soon found that he could speak freely if he made sure Elladora was his mouthpiece.
"Arthur where are we?" Elyan, still weak from the poison, could barely do more than look at his King. Merlin rolled his eyes. He was standing right there! Well, he was in the corner, but still, he was right there!
"I think we're in the cabin of some healer. I haven't the faintest idea, honestly."
"Oh, for goodness sakes' why am I in bed with you? Surely Percival would have been a far more enjoyable option!" Gwaine pretended to gag and roll away from Lancelot, who was just waking up amidst the chaos, the first thing he saw upon opening his eyes was Gwaine's horrified face. Percival managed a ghost of a laugh on his cot, strained from the fever he was still running.
"I assure you the feeling is entirely mutual Gwaine." He replied dryly, propping himself up on an elbow and finally taking notice of Merlin's –Elladora's –figure in the corner, looking somewhat on edge.
"Oh. Uh, hello."
Merlin inclined her head toward him greeting.
"Good evening. As for where you are, you're about a 10 minute horse ride from Carhaix, on the northern border of Camelot. Surely you remember that, strapping young men such as yourselves?" The Knights expressions cleared as their memory returned.
Arthur stiffened in his cot, then struggled to get up.
"The men who attacked us, they got away!" Merlin pushed him back down, clucking her tongue at him. (Where had this personality come from? Had he always been like this?)
"They most certainly did not get away. How badly did you get knocked about Arthur, that you would forget how you practically massacred them?" Percival looked at the others, who nodded in agreement.
"She's right, I think I was the last to pass out. They were all dead." Lancelot grunted as he shifted to his side so he could better see Arthur who was lying across the room. Gwaine elbowed him in the stomach.
"Lancelot, I know I'm charming, but could perhaps find another position to lie in? The poor woman attending to us is going to get a rather false impression of our relationship. OUCH! It's an honest observation!" Gwaine's remark earned him a sharp cuff from Lancelot.
"Speaking of, maybe we should properly address her seeing as we're lying in what is presumably her home?" Elyan piped up from where he was lying, in a cot at the foot of Lancelot and Gwaine's bed.
Merlin watched the knights talk to each other and found to his consternation, that they seemed to be getting on remarkably well since he'd seen them last. It was a bittersweet feeling. On the one hand, he wanted nothing more than for his friends to be happy. But on a slightly more selfish note, was it so wrong to hope that his absence would have a more profound effect on them? Granted, he had only been Arthur's manservant, but Lancelot and Gwaine had told him repeatedly that they were his friends? It was jarring to see that little more than a week had passed and already they had adjusted to his absence.
"Hello, Miss....?" Merlin realized that Arthur was speaking to him and refocused on the conversation. He chose to go to each bed and remove the cloths he'd been using to wipe their foreheads from each person, while addressing him.
"Elladora." Arthur blinked.
"What?" Merlin gave an aggrieved sigh.
"My name. My name is Elladora. And I suppose the phrase you should be using right about now is thank you, seeing as you would all be dead had I not found you." The monarch had the grace to look chastened on his lack of manners.
"Yes, of course, you are absolutely correct." His face took on a thoughtful look as he catalogued his injuries."Although our conditions hardly warranted such lengths of tending. Just a few cuts here or there really. Not much to be worried over."
"Speak for yourself, princess. I feel as if I let you use me as a practice dummy for a week straight." Elyan let out a laugh that turned into a bout of coughing. Percival seconded Gwaine's comparison heartily. Merlin threw the lance he'd brought back for study at Arthur, the weapon landing heavily in his lap.
"Oof!" Arthur gasped as the lance came to rest perhaps rather dangerously in his lap. He gingerly inspected it, casting a questioning glance at Merlin. "This belongs to the group that attacked us." Merlin pointed to the tip of the lance.
"The tip of that stupid pointy stick is covered in Nightshade." Seeing their uncomprehending expressions, Merlin picked the lance up off of Arthur's lap and pointed it straight down so that it rested a hair's breadth from Arthur's jugular.
"It's poison. The slightest nick from anything covered in nightshade, would ultimately cost you your life. When I found you, the entirety of your company lay at death's door." Gwaine paled at the information and flopped back down on the bed, limbs having gone limp.
"Lords." The rest of the Knights lay silent as they processed how close they had unwittingly strayed towards death. Merlin took this as his cue to walk out of the room, telling the pensive group he would be back later with clean shirts since he'd torn the ones they'd been wearing.
His words incurred no response.
. . . . . .
"Arthur."
It was well into the night. Elladora had come in with the shirts as promised, leaving one at the foot of each bed, informing them that they could wear them whenever they felt physically fit enough to dress themselves. They had nodded mutely, and watched the woman retreat behind the solid wooden door of the room they lay in.
"Hmm?" Arthur lay in his cot wide awake, his mind refusing to slow down. He kept replaying the ambush from earlier in the day. With the information that their weapons were covered in poison, it shed a new light on how he viewed the attack. The fact that poison was involved meant it was premeditated, which meant that whoever had arranged for it had known Arthur would be passing through the Northern Border towns. It was a rare trip that he took and always in different parts of the year, since it was usually these absences that left Camelot vulnerable.
But who would have known his route? Two names came to mind immediately. Morgana, she knew that this was a trip Uther had routinely made him undertake when he was Prince. In those days, the trips were always made during this quarter of the year. The spring. It was only when Arthur had taken the throne that he'd begun randomizing the timings of this trip since now there was no longer anyone to succeed him in the event of his death. It could very well have been Morgana. With Arthur out of the way, her (convoluted) claim to the throne could be realized. Logically it made the most sense. But there was one possibility that he had to consider.
Merlin.
It wasn't one he wanted to think about, but what else could he do? He'd made the plans with Merlin, shown him the route, talked about what they would be looking for. Morgana catching him would be a possibility, if she made the correct guesses. But Merlin? Merlin had all the information, and he had magic, what if Merlin had defected? The loyalty he possessed being turned when he started using Magic. For didn't all sorcerers turn to evil, make bed mates of it? What if Merlin -
"Arthur!" The voice, Lancelot's, was more insistent this time, drawing Arthur out of his tortured thoughts. He was almost relieved to have to think of something else. Even if only for a moment.
"Yes. Sorry. I was thinking. What is it Lancelot?"
There was a small silence, and then.
"Where do you think he is?"
Neither of them had to put a name to the question. They were both aware of whom Lancelot spoke. Since that day in the forest, it had been a tacit agreement never to say his name aloud. It made it easier for Arthur to talk about him, like he was some unnamed entity rather than Merlin, his best friend. The man who made it possible for him to love Gwenivere. The man who brought him Lancelot and Gwaine.
"I don't know Lancelot. He was always...resourceful. I'm sure he was able to find something to do with himself."
"His life revolved around you for the last 6 years Arthur. What else could he possibly have to do in his life?"
"So what? The alternative is thinking that he would be a quivering mess without me for him to serve? No, we both know that’s not true." Arthur shot back, bristling from the underlying accusation in Lancelot's words. Why was he the villain in this? Merlin was the one practicing magic!
Lancelot's words came a little delayed. The darkness of the room allowed for a certain bluntness, since it cloaked each from the other, removing the need to speak whilst gauging the others' expression. It was freeing.
"He's never stayed anywhere other than Ealdor or Camelot. Would he know how to survive?"
"He's like an insect. Of everything we ever went through, he's always come out uninjured. He's resilient. Always has been."
"Hm." There was rustling and Arthur could vaguely make out Lancelot's silhouette, sitting up. "He saved my life you know. Multiple times, with that ...skill, you know."
"Lancelot, don't."
"He never would have had to reveal himself you know. That Griffin was going to kill you, not Mer – not him. He didn't have to use magic. He could have waited until one of us got him off you. But you surviving would have been impossible. He revealed himself, to save you."
The silence that stretched between them was immense, reflective of their stances about what happened that day. Arthur could not deny that fact. Merlin had used magic to save him. But it changed nothing. Magic was corruption, if not now, then eventually, but come it would. That was certainty.
"He's committed a crime Lancelot. That I let him live is in itself a boon."
"A crime in the eyes of Uther. He had his reasons to hate magic. What's yours?"
Arthur found he had no answer to that. Not one that didn't involve his father.
. . . . .
Morning came quickly, it seemed to Merlin. He'd spent the night sleeping in the chair in main room of the house. Every 2 hours he'd checked on the Arthur and the others making sure there had been no complications. For his research in Old Man Grindle's books, Nightshade poisoning took 2 days to fully work itself out of the system. That meant that once it was nightfall, he could let them go, and return to his new life. Peaceful and orderly.
A loud clatter startled Merlin and he glanced to his left to see the doors to both the girls and boys rooms open and the sleepy figures of Godric, Rowena, Helga and Salazar came tottering out.
"Good –yawn- good morning Mistress." They came and sort of collapsed like sleepy kittens at his feet. Merlin smiled despite of himself, he'd only known the children for little over 7 days. But he had genuinely come to love them. Rowena with her coy affection, Godric and Helga's full frontal assault of love and Salazar's reluctant admissions of 'okay, maybe I like her' had all made a special place for themselves in his heart.
"Mistresss. I'm hungryyyyyy." Salazar whined, stretching on the floor, the others yawned again and Merlin thought to himself that the cat comparison was truly accurate. He gave Salazar an affectionate ruffle and got up.
"Alright. Breakfast it is. All of you go make your beds. Rowena, go check on our guests, ask them if they're up for breakfast, I expect their stomachs will be making them weak with hunger." Rowena nodded and ran down the hallway, smoothing her hair and tentatively opened the door to the patients room and found them still to be sleeping. Merlin took the time to change clothes, from the green dress into a soft red velvet dress with a gold colored sash and corset lacing in the back. (It was a gift from the ever grateful Eliana, who had turned out to be a master seamstress, for the amount of clothes she had gifted Merlin, which would put Morgana's own collection to shame). Rowena tiptoed back to the kitchen and tugged on the sleeve to Merlin's dress. (When had that become normal?)
"They're still sleeping Mistress." Merlin shrugged and continued in his perusal of ingredients for breakfast. He picked the sausages and greens that Arthur was used to eating for breakfast. One of the perks for working for Carhaix had ended up being the access to the entire village's goods which they brought him a portion of in payment for his physician's duties.
"Alright then. Rowena, do me a favor and go down to the village and grab me some thyme from Madame Winifred." Rowena's eyes lit up, from being given a task to and hastily grabbed her shoes for the outdoors, nearly knocking over the lumber axe in the process.
"Slowly Rowena, Madame Winifred isn't going anywhere." Rowena flushed and nodded, grabbing her cloak and skipped down the pathway to the village.
Whilst Rowena was out for her errands, Merlin and the children busied themselves in preparing for the day. Godric swept the hearth and straightened the furniture that had been knocked asunder from the excitement from yesterday. Helga assisted in setting the plates out on the trays to take for the Knights while Salazar helped Merlin in the kitchen.
This had been a surprise to discover that Salazar had a love for cooking, for food rather. He enjoyed making bread and revelled in the coming together of meals, particularly stews.
In the time being, Merlin had cooked breakfast and arranged them on the subsequent trays, carrying two at a time towards the room where the Arthur and the other's lay sleeping.
The slamming of the door jerked the Knights awake, all of their heads lifting off their pillows, to see Merlin – Elladora – bringing in breakfast. Steaming trays of sausages and other meats and vegetables that made their mouths water. Gwaine, ever the opportunist, shuffled up so he was sitting and eagerly took his tray from Helga and passed the other to Lancelot who blearily took the tray from him before he was truly aware of what it was.
"Good morning!" Merlin called out cheerily, ignoring their winces at her loud voice. "Up and at 'em." The phrase froze Arthur's spoon which was halfway to his mouth already. Merlin barely noticed and continued in passing out food and clay goblets of water. "Arthur. What's wrong? Forgot how to use a spoon?"
Arthur realized he'd never once said his name and looked sharply at the woman, as if seeing her for the first time. She came up to perhaps his ear, and had skin as white as snow. Her eyes were a cerulean blue that made her black hair seem even more even more dark and shiny, falling in wavy curves over her shoulders and down her back to rest above her waist. Her hands were thin and long, mirroring the rest of her physique.
"I don't believe I've told you my name yet, and I still don't know how we ended up here." Arthur said carefully and felt rather than saw the sudden tensing of his Knights in the room. Elladora wasn't fazed in the slightest and speared her own sausage and munched on it, gesturing for the children to dig in as well.
"It's not a hard guess to make. Silver chainmail," He gestured to the pile lying beside Lancelot and Gwaine's bed. "And the red capes with gold lions embroidered on them. I've the flag that flies above your kingdom. The way the other's defer to you easily sets you apart as their leader. As for how you ended up here, that would be by the grace of the child sitting next to me." The Knights turned their attention to Helga who flushed under their scrutiny.
"She came upon you all taking a very nice nap, while your horses seem to have made a rather permanent escape." Merlin allowed himself the small jibe. He didn't owe them anything as Elladora, he could say whatever he wanted. I could get used to this.
"We weren't napping!" Elyan snapped, his ire somewhat undermined by the enthusiastic sound of his chewing. Merlin raised an eyebrow. Arthur seemed momentarily mollified by Merlin's version of the truth, returning to his meal.
"Yes, yes. Well, Helga and Rowena and I brought you back to the house, Godric and Salazar made the poultices that are currently healing your wounds." Gwaine clapped Godric on the back, making him beam in pride. Salazar looked miffed at the lack of appreciation, until Percival offered him a piece of his own sausage as thanks. Merlin watched with affection as Salazar tore into the sausage with gusto, still getting used to the idea that he was able to eat foods like this so often.
It was a peaceful tableau, and when it was overturned, it was by the most banal of things. Something Merlin probably should have seen coming. Rowena chose that moment to return, carrying a satchel of thyme and a white rose. She ran in, hair streaming behind, excitement all over her face.
"Mistress! Mistress look what I can do!" She skidded to a stop in front of Merlin in the room and held her hand out over the rose, changing its color from pure white to a deep purple.
Silence fell in the room, its temperature dropping by several degrees. Merlin was so horrified he contemplated stabbing himself with the lance just to put himself out of his own misery. He watched Arthur's expression turn thunderous. Gwaine exchanged a look with Lancelot, one of dismay. Elyan, Leon and Percival struggled to get out of bed, sensing their services would be needed soon.
"Sorcery." Merlin blocked his view of Rowena, covering her the decidedly frightening look on the King's face.
"Now, Arthur -" He turned his anger on to Merlin next, grabbing his wrist tightly.
"You are a sorcerer." Merlin yanked his hand free, rubbing his wrist where Arthur had grasped it. "You. You must have taught her. Where else would a child that small have learned that! How dare you practice magic in my Kingdom!" The Knights rose from their beds, Leon holding Arthur back slightly.
Merlin watched apprehensively as Arthur worked himself up to a frenzy.
"What about Magic is so appealing?! What about it justifies your corruption of a small child? How many more will you subject to your perverse views of power? Is power so important?" Inside Arthur was raging. Why did everyone around him insist on doing the one thing that made more angry than anything else?
Merlin attempted to calm him down, putting a placating hand on his arm. He jerked, flinging his arm away. Merlin stumbled from the motion going back two steps and tripping on his dress. He fell on the ground with a small shriek, his forehead hitting the wall, resulting in small gash above his eyebrow.
Arthur looked startled, almost moving towards Merlin, clearly having not intended on pushing him so hard. Rowena stood rooted to the floor, terrified by the sudden violence in Arthur's behavior and it was her stillness that frightened Merlin the most. When the rumbling began, Merlin was shocked to realize that it’s source was Rowena.
"Rowena. Rowena. Calm down!" But it was too late, her eyes filled with tears and her lip quivered. Merlin cursed internally, she was too far gone. Merlin covered his ears as Rowena wept, wailing as the rumbling increased, the Knights followed suit as Godric tugged on Rowena's sleeve to try and calm her down. Her distress was becoming difficult for even Rowena to control.
It was too late. She let out the shriek yet, ones that made the plates shatter and things fall from the shelves. Merlin crouched on the ground, covering Helga, Godric and Salazar under him, protecting them from the falling objects. The ground shaking caused Arthur and Leon to fall in a tangled heap on the cot behind them, the other's holding on to their breakfasts for dear life.
Then in complete fear, Rowena turned and ran right back out the door and into the forest, ignoring Merlin's screaming from behind her.
"Rowena! Rowena! Come back! Rowena!!"
But she was gone, and Merlin had no idea where.