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ratdoeswriting · 2 years

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merlin and the no good, very bad magical illness

Summary: A mystery illness has swept through Camelot - or, more specifically, the sorcerers of Camelot. Arthur is at a loss, Morgana is angry, and Gwaine is, well, Gwaine is a nosy, stubborn bastard.

Pairings: Merlin/Arthur Leon/Morgana, Gwen/Lancelot, Gwaine/Percival

Warnings: descriptions of illness, brief mention of vomiting, sickfic, hurt/comfort

Word count: 4.8K

A/N: this is crossposted on AO3 and my main blog under the same title :)

~~~

“Numero quinque in maledictionem et damnationem et mortem sibi.”

The woman threw a handful of powder into the flame, closely followed by a shredded list of names, causing the blood red flames to shoot upwards, lickng roughly at the roof of the cave.

“Are you ready, my Lady?” Her lady’s maid asked.

“Yes,” the woman smirked, “we must make haste if we are to reach Camelot in time.”

~~~

On Tuesday, at six am, Merlin had come bustling into Arthur's chambers, throwing open the curtains and slamming breakfast onto the table as usual - almost as usual, because today Arthur wasn’t blessed with Merlin’s mindless ramblings. He would never admit aloud that he likes listening to Merlin talk - not that he needed to, his knights reminded him enough - but that didn’t mean he found it any less comforting.

“Good morning to you too, Merlin.” He grumbled, pulling the duvet back over his head.

“Busy day today, Sire, you have a council meeting in an hour, the final test for the new knights before lunch, an address at midday, and we are receiving Lady Mithiana this evening.” Merlin said in lieu of responding and didn’t look up from the clothes he started to fold.

Of course, Arthur thought, the speech.

Everyday for the past two weeks, one person had fallen ill on the stroke of midnight, and was dead within twenty-four hours. Gaius had never seen anything like it - there seemed to be no link whatsoever between those who suffered: six farmers, four maids, one stable-boy, one stonemason, one carpenter, and one nobleman who had been visiting. They did not eat the same food or drink the same water - they had none of them even met - and yet, they shared the exact same symptoms.

The citizens of Camelot were understandably frightened, and Arthur had regularly been updating them, trying to keep spirits high, and it worked, for the most part. For some reason, the situation seemed to be hitting Merlin harder than anyone else.

Just as Merlin was about to return the dirty plates to the kitchen, the chamber door flew open and Leon came running in, terror etched into his face and lacing the words he spoke.

“My Lord, there’s been another. It’s La-” Leon cut himself off when he spotted Merlin, immediately turning his attention to the servant. “Merlin, you’re here. It’s Morgana. She’s been taken ill.”

Arthur could feel a shift in the atmosphere as Merlin tried to bury his own feelings. Almost a year ago, Morgana had revealed to Arthur that she had magic, and he had started to keep a closer eye on her - something he was now ashamed of, Morgana would never do anything to hurt him. In that time, though, Arthur had noticed how close Morgana and Merlin were, and a small, selfish, jealous part of him had suspected their relationship to be more than close friends, but Leon’s horribly obvious love-struck gazing had put an end to that. What Arthur didn’t know was that a few months before Morgana had revealed herself to Arthur, she had magically flipped over her dressing table and smashed the mirror in a fit of rage, and that night, Merlin had vowed to help her control her gift.

Merlin took a breath as he assessed the situation.

“Leon, find Gwen and bring her to Morgana’s chambers - have her bring water and a flannel.” He put the plates back on the table and turned to Arthur, “Arthur, you must attend the council meeting - I know you want to be with Morgana, but you will be of more use to her and to your kingdom if you continue with your duties. I will let you know if there is news.”

On any other day, Arthur would have protested and thrown his cup at Merlin for his insolence, but the wavering resolve in his eye stopped Arthur, and he just nodded. He didn’t need to make this any more difficult for Merlin than it already was - Arthur could hardly acknowledge what he would be willing to do if Merlin asked.

~~~

“How is she?” Leon asked from the doorway of Morgana’s chambers. He had a ribbon in his hand which he kept folding and twisting, and Merlin recognised it as the one Morgana had given him for luck the day after they confessed to each other, when Leon had ridden into battle.

“She has the first symptoms.” Merlin said, taking the cloth from Gwen and placing it on Morgana's brow. “Her fever’s not too high, but the rash has begun.” He lifted her arm and noticed the rash was spreading too - he didn’t mention this to Leon, no need to give more cause for concern.

It was only going to get worse, and there was nothing Merlin could do.

~~~

“My Lord, I believe I have found a link between all of those infected.” Gaius said tentatively from his seat at the round table. All heads turned to Arthur but he didn’t realise, his gaze fixed on some unseen point in the centre of the table.

“Arthur?” Lancelot said when he didn’t even acknowledge that Gaius had spoken.

“My apologies, please continue.”

Gaius pulled a rolled parchment from his robe. “Yes, I may have found what connects each of those who have died, but I fear you may not like it.”

“Finding a link means we can find a cause, yeah? So that’s a good thing.”

“Very well. Your father never told you, but he kept a list of those he suspected to be sorcerers. I hadn’t seen the thing for some five months, until I came across it last night and realized this: the people who have died are the first fourteen on the list, and they have died in that order.”

“Let me see it.”

Sure enough, the parchment contained a list and there, in black and white, was Morgana’s name.

~~~

“My Lady!” The maid hurried into the tent they had set up just outside of Camelot. “Your spell, my Lady, it has affected the Lady Morgana, she has fallen ill, you must-”

“Leave me. I must fix this.”

The woman turned to her altar, quickly scrawling a name on a scrap of parchment and throwing it into the fire.

“Elevatis a maledicto maledictum mouit alium maledictio super fuve Merlin illo mortem iurabant.”

Morgana must be spared, but in her place another must go, and who better than the serving boy the king seemed so enamoured with.

~~~

The rest of the day passed in a blur, and whilst Arthur still had his duties, he had to visit Morgana before Lady Mithiana arrived, even though he knew that her condition would only be deteriorating.

At midday, he approached Morgana’s door, and as he drew nearer he heard the rumble of Leon's laughter over layed by that of Gwen. How can they be laughing at a time such as this? He fumed, wrenching the door open.

“What on earth-”

Gwen was sitting on the edge of Morgana's bed, and Leon had finally ventured inside, which was surprising, but not as surprising as the fact that Morgana was now sitting up in her bed, smiling weakly at Arthur who stood dumbstruck in the doorway.

“Arthur, there’s a draft, please shut the door.” She said, her voice a little rough.

“I’ll fetch Merlin.” Gwen said as she ushered Leon from the room.

Morgana still looked sickly pale, her hair brokenly framing her face in a greasy halo, and there were still patches of the rash on her exposed skin, but she was awake, and that’s all that truly mattered.

“How is this possible? Merlin said that you had the sickness, we didn’t think you would-”

“Don’t,” Morgana reached for his hand and tugged until he sat beside her, “please, I’m okay now so you can stop worrying. Lady Mithiana is due to arrive soon, and you must be there to welcome her. Hopefully I will join you both for lunch tomorrow, but for now please send my regards.”

Before Arthur had a chance to respond, Merlin crashed into the room, the medicine bag falling off of his shoulder before he belatedly remembered himself and straightened into a half-bow and told Arthur that Lady Mithiana had arrived not five minutes ago.

When Merlin and Morgana were alone, Merlin began his examination, which ultimately concluded that yes, she was getting better, and no, he could not explain it.

“Is there something wrong with me?” It was the first thing Morgana had said to him since before she had fallen ill, and the almost child-like fear in her voice stopped Merlin packing up his things.

“Quite the opposite - you’re as healthy as a horse. Not that you are a- that’s a strange saying, isn’t it? Who decided that horses were the epitome of health? Why not pigs? Or dogs? Or-”

“No. I mean,” Morgana took a breath and looked away, “Is there something wrong with me because I have magic? Why did I get better but no one else did? We both know that at least half of the people who have died were sorcerers, and they didn’t get better! What makes me so special? What if I'm cursed, Merlin? What if I'm cursed and this is merely the calm before the storm?!”

Merlin took her hand in his - he had never seen her in such a state, well, not since the night he found out about her magic. “You are not cursed; I would know, I would be able to tell. I promise, I will get to the bottom of this. For now you must rest.”

Morgana only hummed vaguely in response.

~~~

Lady Mithiana was waiting in the throne room. She and Morgana had been friends since before Gorlois’ death, and had remained so after Morgana moved to Camelot. In recent years, though, she had visited less frequently, having grown apart from Morgana.

“Arthur! It has been so long, how have you been?” She exclaimed, voice high and grating, hands outstretched.

“I am well, Mithiana, and must say that you look radiant as ever.” He said, kissing her hand. “I’m afraid that the Lady Morgana has been taken ill, but hopes to join us again tomorrow.”

“Oh, how dreadful - I do hope that she recovers soon.” If Arthur didn’t know better, he would have said there was guilt in her voice.

By the time Arthur found himself back in his own chambers, it was nearly eleven, and he was so tired that he couldn’t bring himself to be annoyed that he had to undress himself. He wouldn’t have minded Merlin's company, but he had been under so much pressure lately that even Arthur had to concede that yes, Merlin did deserve a break.

~~~

Gwaine was a knight of Camelot, and he should not be getting into brawls in the tavern, especially not ones involving too many tankards of mead and very small, very sharp knives. In Gwaine’s defence, the bastard with the knife deserved a beating. Probably. Or maybe it was Gwaine that deserved it - he couldn't really remember much of the fight, only that he ended up with a deep gash on his arm that he couldn’t sew up himself because the room was spinning. Or maybe he was.

“Merlin.” Gwaine whispered loudly as the door to the physicians’ work room creaked open. It took him a moment to notice that it was just after midnight, which would explain the quiet of the room, but not the fact that Gaius was missing from his bed, and it certainly didn't explain the fact that he could still see candle light flickering behind Merlin's door.

“Merlin, are you still awake?” As Gwaine went closer to the door, he could hear a faint whimpering. Drunkenness and wound forgotten, he pushed the door open.

“Well. Shit.”

When Gwaine first met Merlin, he knew he had magic - it’s a wonder no one else knew because really, how can you plausibly explain an entire bench flying through the air? He never said anything, though, never even told Merlin that he knew, but maybe he should have. That morning, when Gaius had identified the link between the deaths, Gwaine had meant to find Merlin and tell him that he knew, tell Merlin that he was there, but Arthur had been in a bad mood and worked the knights until they could hardly stand.

Now, Gwaine regretted not sneaking away because there was Merlin, lying beneath the threadbare blanket, sweat dripping from his brow and shivers racking his body.

“I’m fine.” Merlin croaked, pulling the blanket tighter under his chin.

“And I’m the King of the castle. Merlin, stop trying to hide from me?” Gwaine pulled the blanket down so he could see his face. “ You have magic, don’t you?” Gwaine pushed Merlin’s hair back from his brow. A brief flicker of fear broke through the fever, but then Merlin leaned into the touch.

“Where’s Arthur?” Of course he wasn’t going to ask for Gaius, or Morgana, or someone who could help.

“You’re a bloody fool, Merlin. I’ll be back soon.”

On his way out, he saw that Gaius had yet to return, and he kept an eye out as he ran through the castle to the king's chambers - he would rather have gone looking for Gaius, but if the only person Merlin wanted was Arthur then he would deliver.

“Arthur!” He shouted, letting himself in and coming to stand next to the bed. “Arthur, it’s Merlin, he’s sick.” He shook Arthur's shoulders.

Arthur just rolled over and mumbled, “Why’re you in my dreams? Go away.”

Gwaine really didn’t have time for this, and he had half a mind to twat Arthur if only for his shite reflexes, but opted instead to tell the guard outside to fetch Gwen immediately, and send for George in the morning.

Waiting for Gwen - or Gaius, if he ever turned up - was torture, but Gwaine remained at Merlin’s side, trying to keep his temperature down as best he could. Never had the sound of heeled shoes been of such comfort to him.

Gaius returned in the early hours of the morning with a basket full of herbs which he immediately abandoned in favour of tending Merlin, despite the fact there was nothing they could do.

By the time the sun began creeping over the horizon, Gwen had worked herself into and out of a state more times than Gwaine could count - fussing about how she knew but never wanted to admit it, how she knew Lancelot knew and he hadn’t told her and oh lord is that a rash already?!

~~~

On Wednesday, Arthur woke just as the door to his chamber opened.

“I hope you’ve got me something decent this morning, Merlin, I don't know what you gave me yesterday, but I hope I never have it again.”

“You have a light breakfast this morning, Sire, and an early lunch with Lady Morgana and Lady Mithiana.”

That’s not Merlin. Arthur sat up and came face to face with George.

“Why are you here? Where’s Merlin?” He asked as he began to dress - he couldn’t deal with George today, especially not his brass jokes.

“I’m sorry, my Lord, I thought you had been informed - Merlin has been taken ill. I heard that he has the illness, do you think -”

“You’re dismissed.” Arthur called over his shoulder, already halfway out the door.

~~~

Merlin had started to show the third symptom a little before dawn - violent vomiting, which almost immediately turned into painful dry heaving because Merlin hadn’t eaten since lunch the day before.

That was when Arthur arrived.

“Why was I not informed that my manservant is ill.” He asked, stalking into the already crowded room.

“I did tell you, prick. You told me to go away.” Gwaine stood between Arthur and Merlin - subconsciously trying to protect Merlin, some part of him still remembering that Arthur didn’t know about Merlin's magic.

“I thought…” Arthur pushed Gwaine out of the way and came to sit by Merlin's bed, “I thought that was a dream. If I had known…”

They all sat in relative silence for a while, only the sound of Merlin dry heaving breaking the quiet until Arthur spoke again.

“This illness, Gaius, you said yesterday that it only affects those with magic?”

The words had such an effect that besides Gwaine squaring up, Merlin actually ceased vomiting as if he were waiting to hear what judgement would be passed, waiting to hear whether he would live or die.

They didn’t get to find out, though, because Morgana was now marching through them, rage and concern oozing from her every pore in equal measure.

“How is he?” she asked, and everyone pretended her voice didn't crack half way through.

Gaius responded, his words tight and even as if he was walking a tightrope of emotion and trying desperately not to fall off, “The symptoms are progressing as would be expected, my lady,” he bowed his head, “he won’t make it through the night.”

~~~

Morgana and Arthur still attended lunch with Lady Mithiana, and Arthur’s not sure he’s ever regretted anything so much in his entire life.

“My dearest Morgana, I am so glad that you are feeling better.”

There’s that guilt again.

“I heard about your manservant, Arthur, it’s simply dreadful! Oh, I can’t imagine how I would survive if my lady’s maid was ill - it’s almost impossible to find good help nowadays.”

Just the insinuation that Merlin was nothing more than ‘the help’ had Arthur physically biting his tongue and clenching his fists as Mithiana continued to speak.

“I heard yesterday that this illness was only inflicted upon those with magic.” She spat out the word as if it was the worst in the whole language, and Morgana couldn’t hide her flinch - not that Mithiana noticed. “Do you think that your manservant has magic, my Lord?”

He did, actually, and had for a while. He’s not sure when he first realised, perhaps it was after a particularly nasty run in with some bandits when one too many branches had fallen at a convenient time, one too many bandits had randomly dropped their swords and tripped over roots that Arthur is almost certain weren’t there a moment earlier. Despite his suspicions, he had never actually caught Merlin in the act, but he did start to notice more of the little things that actually went right - and the bigger things that made Arthur think that maybe, just maybe Merlin could somehow talk to dragons.

“The thing that confuses me is how does this illness know who does and doesn’t have magic?” Mithiana squawked smugly.

~~~

Morgana followed Arthur to his chambers after they had eaten, and, upon entry, they found Gwaine sitting at the table, spinning a knife back and forth though his fingers.

“Merlin’s hallucinating - only two new symptoms to go. Do you want to know what he’s seeing?”

Instead of answering, Arthur tipped Gwaine out of the chair and onto the floor.

“He keeps asking for you, Princess. He keeps asking if you hate him.”

“I do not-” Arthur shouted, slamming his fist on the table. “I do not hate him. He is my- he is Merlin and I cannot hate him.”

“We know, Arthur, but for now, do you remember what Mithiana said? She said ‘how does this illness know who does and doesn’t have magic?’.” Ever the rational one, Morgana took a seat at the head of the table.

“What are you suggesting? That a person is doing this?”

“Not a person,” Gwaine said from the floor, “a sorcerer.”

~~~

“Arthur? I’m sorry, please, I'm sorry. I would never hurt you, I promise, we would never - Morgana- '' Merlin mumbled, tossing about in his rickety old bed as Gwen tried desperately to dab the sweat and tears from his face.

“Gaius, he feels hotter.”

“Unfortunately it’s only going to get worse, my dear.”

“Oh god - he’s going to kill me. He’s going to kill me, I don't want him to kill - he can��t kill me, I can't die, I can't live if he’s not there.” In a brief moment of clarity, Merlin groped for Gwen's hand and held it tightly, looking pleadingly into her eyes.

“You can’t let him kill me.” Merlin turned to the side and began throwing up the little water he had managed to drink.

~~~

Arthur, Gwaine and Morgana spent the better part of the day trying to work out who wanted to kill the sorcerers in Camelot, but kept coming up empty.

“No one has been executed for magic since I became king, so it can’t be some twisted type of revenge and if it’s not revenge then there is no reason for this to be happening!”

“Forgive me in advance, but Lady Mithiana arrived the day Morgana recovered, and was here when Merlin fell ill, perhaps she…” Gwaine stopped suddenly, as if the daggers Arthur was glaring at him had cut through his vocal chords.

“I appreciate your honesty, Sir Gwaine,” Morgana said frostily, “but I would appreciate it more if next time, you kept it to yourself.”

Gwaine, of course, was an idiot, and Percival could resist everyone except Gwaine, which is how they found themselves in the guest room currently occupied by Lady Mithiana.

“Gwaine, we shouldn’t be here.”

“You, Percy, are the one who actually broke in here, technically I just followed.” Gwaine said, throwing a wink over his shoulder along with some clothes out of Lady Mithiana’s case.

Percival stubbornly unfolded his arms and began to look through her vanity, “I only did it because you promised me blowjobs for the rest of the week.” He threw a hairbrush at Gwaine. “I’ll be holding you to that, even if we’re in the dungeons.”

“Kinky.”

“Shut up. There's nothing here anyway, we should really go.” Percy said, all but dragging Gwaine from the room.

~~~

When Arthur went to visit Merlin, only Gaius was there, and he tactfully excused himself. Arthur didn’t want to think about the implications of that, he didn’t want to think about the fact that Gaius was giving them some time alone as if it was the last chance Arthur had to say whatever it was that he needed to say. Maybe he would have felt better if he knew what he actually needed to say.

As it happens, Merlin was the first to speak.

“Gwen, you have to promise that Morgana will be safe. Arthur doesn’t know she has magic but she is good and kind and you have to save her.” He whispered and it took Arthur a second to realise that Merlin was still hallucinating.

“I know that she has magic,” Arthur picked up the cloth, gently trying to cool Merlin down, “she told me last year, remember?”

“But what about me, Gwen? I don’t want him to kill me.” Arthur’s almost certain that Merlin would have cried if he hadn’t started dry heaving again - no, not dry heaving, that’s blood.

“Gaius!”

It was another half hour before Merlin had calmed down enough to hear Arthur say in a voice almost as delicate as his thumb on Merlin’s cheek, “I could never harm you, Merlin, you mean too much to me.”

~~~

Gwaine still had not given up on his theory about Lady Mithiana and so had enlisted Lancelot to help him that night. They waited behind a pillar outside her chambers until, an hour before midnight, her door creaked open and she disappeared down the hallway, her cloak brushing the ground as she walked. The only other sound was the knights’ near silent footfalls as they crept after her.

~~~

Meanwhile, Merlin's tiny room was more full than it was built to be - Gaius, Arthur and Gwen sat dutifully by his bedside, and they were surrounded by Morgana and all of the knights, bar Gwaine and Lancelot.

Merlin looked even worse now: a combination of the fever, rash, vomiting, hallucinations and blood each hitting in full force.

“Gwaine and Lancelot should be here.” Arthur said, almost to himself. “Percival, you two are attached at the hip, where is he?”

“I- He told you what he thought of Lady Mithiana? He didn’t give up on that and he’s taken Lancelot to - I don't know, investigate?”

Artur nodded, brushing his fingers through Merlin’s hair in such a delicate gesture that he must have forgotten that they weren’t alone.

~~~

Lady Mithiana had waked a little ways into the forest, to a clearing by the river, guided along a path illuminated with a glowing orb that floated above her outstretched hand, until she reached a tent.

“Magic! I fucking knew it.” Gwaine hissed. Lancelot punched him in the arm.

“She must have some sort of altar in there and that's the source of the spell.”

“Alright, so we just have to destroy the altar before she either kills Merlin or kills us. That should be easy.”

~~~

The night was almost over - there were maybe five minutes until midnight and Arthur's not quite sure that he was ready to say goodbye.

Maybe if he didn’t, Merlin wouldn’t leave.

“Arthur. Where’s Arthur?” Merlin’s voice was a jagged whisper, each word clawing its way out on bloody hands and knees.

Arthur still hadn’t moved his hand from Merlin’s hair, “Hush, Merlin, you must rest.”

“No I- Arthur you have to listen.” His eyes were wide, and he grabbed onto Arthur’s wrist, “You are the once and future king, and one day you will unite the land of Albion. I have-” He paused, heaving, “I have brought you as far as I can, you must carry on without me and fulfil your destiny.”

Arthur was still reeling from the weight of the words when he felt Merlin's fingers go slack around his wrist.

It was so quiet that he’s almost sure the room heard his heart drop at the realization that Merlin was actually gone, and for good this time. And Arthur couldn't even save him like he had before when Merlin had taken the poison, or thrown himself in front of the dorocha to save Arthur. It was always Merlin saving him and he had never even said thank you.

The loud gasp that sounded a few minutes later didn’t stir Arthur from his brooding - he assumed it was Morgana, unable to hold in her tears, or Gwaine arriving to find his friend dead - but then the hand that was still loosely wrapped around his wrist twitched and then moved until it was holding his hand.

“Wonders never cease. I knew you were stubborn, Merlin, but cheating death? That’s impressive, even for you.” Arthur teased, trying desperately not to cry, squeezing Merlin’s hand as if he thought he would drift away.

~~~

Over the sound of their heaving breaths and pounding feet, Gwaine and Lancelot could hardly hear the burning tent or the screams of Mithiana melting into it.

Looking back, it may have gone a little smoother had Lancelot been allowed to make a plan, but Gwaine was full of righteous indignation and would hear none of it, so, when Lady Mithiana stepped outside the tent again, the two knights slipped past her, Lancelot waiting by the flap and Gwaine heading straight for the altar.

He was just about to flip the table when Lady Mithiana returned and stopped in the centre of the tent.

“I suppose I should have expected someone to find out. I certainly should have expected it would be you, Sir Gwaine. You and your lumbering friend aren’t nearly as stealthy as you think you are.”

“Why are you doing this? Why would a sorcerer, a powerful one at that, be killing her own?”

“King Arthur has always been good to me, and we used to speak of ruling over Camelot together. He has put his life at risk time and time again for the likes of that serving boy, for the likes of you, and if he’s dead, how would I rule alongside him?”

Gwaine shifted, his hand coming to rest on his sword, “That doesn't explain why you have brutally murdered fourteen people.”

“You and your band of misfits have wormed your way into the king's inner circle, and I don’t trust you - who knows what you are planning! I just want to protect the king.” Mithiana screeched.

“You’re off your fucking rocker.” Gwaine said, eyes flicking briefly to Lancelot who had yet to move.

“No, I just want to protect the king, I want to rule alongside him, and to do that I must first eliminate all threats to my power, and you have just moved yourself to the top of that list.” Her eyes began to glow and Gwaine realised that he had seen Merlin's do the same. Shit.

“Asphyx-”

Before she could finish the spell, Lancelot smashed her on the head with the hilt of the sword.

“Thanks.”

“Yeah, lets just destroy this altar and we can go.”

~~~

When they finally reached Merlin’s chambers nearly ten minutes later, they almost burst straight in but the sound of hushed conversation halted them in their tracks.

“... really have believed I would hurt you?”

“I wasn’t sure, but I hoped you wouldn’t. It’s taken me years to get you to stop being such a prat - I’m good but not a miracle worker.”

“Merlin.”

#merlin bbc #merthur #leon/morgana #gwen/lancelot #gwaine/percival #sickfic #hurt/comfort #arthur knows about morganas magic #ratwrites

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