Crystal Clear

[magicposition]

Ok, well this is a little I've been working on these past few days... it's a continuous fanfic so I don't know how long it will go on for or what exactly is in store... but I intend to make it as interesting and in keeping with the show as possible. At the moment there are no romantic relationships included, but that could quite easily change depending on my mood at the time of writing and whether I'd be able to fit any in within the story.

Chapter 1

“Merlin, I’ve found it!” Gaius cried out joyfully as he pressed his finger down upon the very paragraph which held the solution to Arthur’s mysterious and possibly fatal illness. For five long, agonizing days Merlin and Gaius had been searching desperately for a cure, and now it seemed their hard work had finally reached a successful climax.

Merlin rushed over, his heart beating fast with anticipation. With an immeasurable degree of ardency, he scanned the page Gaius’ finger rested on:

Violet Fever

Symptoms: High temperature, cold sweats, weakened limbs, severe muscle spasms, loss of consciousness and inarticulate bursts of speech [/i][this last symptom Merlin had witnessed several times, and yet, despite the supposed inarticulacy the book described, he was almost certain he had heard his own name mentioned amongst the low murmurings].

If left untreated, the illness will result in almost certain death [upon reading this Merlin shuddered rather violently] within 6-10 days. The only known cure for the illness is a violet-coloured liquid crystal located in the caves of Andrigan.

How the fever is contracted is still unknown, although witchcraft is the most highly suspected of causes.

“Witchcraft…” Merlin breathed out in bewildered disbelief. “It can’t be…?”

“It was what I first suspected,” Gaius admitted regrettably, “but didn’t wish to believe.”

“So you think she’s responsible too?” Merlin asked.

“That, Merlin” Gauis began, with an exasperated sigh, “is a question I’m afraid I cannot answer. Uther has made many enemies with his… ill-feelings, toward magic. As you have already seen, there are those who seek revenge against him, as well as those who wish for magic to return to Camelot, a desire which can only be fulfilled with the overturn of it's current leader.”

He breathed out labouredly as he contemplated his thoughts.

“Yes, Nimueh is a strong possibility – but we cannot rule out every other sorcerer, sorceress, witch and warlock in Camelot simply because she has struck before.”

Merlin fell silent in contemplation. Despite his many experiences with dark magic, he still struggled to comprehend why anyone would use such a gift for anything other than good. Sometimes it scared him just how incredibly powerful magic could be, yet, despite this fear, his ever-growing power excited him, and filled him with a sense of purpose that he would otherwise be completely void of. After all, he wasn’t exceptionally strong, bright or fortunate enough to be born into a position of wealth and power, so in hindsight, without magic, what did he have? Possessing such powers may have been terrifying, but the idea of being without them was unthinkable, especially if they were his only protection from the evils determined to deny both he and Arthur the crucial fulfillment of their destinies, whatever they may be.

[Marnie]

This is an interesting opener- how many parts do you have planned?

I'll definitely be keeping up with it- especially after "he was almost certain he had heard his own name mentioned"

M/A ftw!

[magicposition]

Thanks

At the moment I have no idea how many parts I'll do... knowing me, too many!

[magicposition]

Chapter 2

Merlin gently pushed opened the door of Arthur’s chamber. Last time he had done this, it was with the intention of spending a few minutes (or, more literally, hours) scrutinizing over every aspect of him until something clicked. Now, he had no idea what he was doing there. He knew it would be torture, to see someone he cared so deeply about in such a fragile, motionless state – yet, for a reason unbeknown to him, he just couldn’t keep away. However, even if he wanted to carry out a repeat of his last visit, he was immediately denied the chance – someone had beaten him to it - someone he knew wouldn’t take too kindly to his interrupting, and arguably unnecessary presence.

Beside Arthur sat his almost equally motionless father, who was gripping onto his son’s hand with a vigour which more than matched the helplessness etched unashamedly across his weary features. The lines on his face had deepened more so in those last few days than they had done in all the time Merlin had worked in the castle – which was now coming close to seventeen months. Yet Merlin bore no sign of the hard labour he had put in during this time, with the exception of the dark rings underneath his eyes and a four-inch scar on his torso which he had received during a battle with a rather grotesque and merciless winged creature he and Arthur (who had already been knocked out by one of the creature’s almighty wings), had survived only by pure chance – an incantation Merlin had learnt during one evening with Gaius’ earlier that week had proved extremely crucial in the creature’s demise.

However, Merlin had to give the King his due - the little physical work he’d carried out over the years had certainly been made up for by the emotional turmoil he had experienced during his time as ruler. Merlin was aware that the cause of the monarchical absence in Camelot’s richest and most powerful family was death – yet the personal grief Uther surely must have felt at his wife’s passing wasn’t something he confirmed too often, if at all. Merlin therefore couldn’t help but feel slightly intrusive during those few seconds when he stood in the doorway, an unnoticed witness to a display of compassion so unreserved it hardly seemed possible that the man now seated at Arthur’s bedside was the same man universally known for such pride and privacy.

Suddenly, Uther raised his head and turned towards the doorway, where Merlin stood rather helplessly, his eyes widened with panic. Realising he now had no other option but to go ahead with his initial plan on approaching Arthur's chamber, Merlin pushed the door completely open and put on the most unassuming and guiltless face he could muster.

“I was um… I was just coming to…” he paused, then released a defeated sigh, realising he’d now been stuttering far too long to make even the most impressive of lies believable. “I just wanted to see Prince Arthur, sire.”

His eyes widened in panic once more as the silence that followed made him realise how his last sentence could have been interpreted, and didn’t waste any time attempting to repair the damage.

“I mean, with his current state… I thought maybe someone should be here to look after him, to check he’s ok.”

The King furrowed his eyebrows at this explanation, putting Merlin even further on edge.

“So, are you implicating that the castle’s court physician, ward and indeed I, myself, are not doing a satisfactory job of this?” He spoke with more than a hint of accusation.

“No, no – I was just-”

“And,” The King cut across him sharply, “am I really to believe that you, a mere servant, could be of any substantial assistance to my son’s recovery?”

Merlin could feel beads of perspiration forming on the side of his neck as Uther’s unforgiving eyes burned into his, a glare which was made considerably more intimidating when teamed with such a sardonic smile. For a moment Merlin was tempted into retorting that yes, if his majesty would allow it, he could have been a great aid in his son’s recovery - but nerves and common sense got the better of him.

“I thought not.” The King said, still smiling. “But not to worry, I’m sure your serving skills will be greater appreciated once the Prince is back to full health.”

To this, Merlin was left completely at loss over what else he could say, and so, noting his cue to leave, he nodded courteously and closed the thick oak door behind him. Once the door was firmly shut, Merlin leaned against it, the weight of pressure he had just been entrapped by slowly transforming into a feeling of regret and stupidity – what had he been thinking? As soon as he saw the King there, he should have left it at that and retired back to his own place of rest. At that moment he still couldn’t work out what had possessed him to stay, or even why he had visited in the first place. He still had a lot of preparation to do for his impending journey to the caves of Andrigan, and now all he was doing was wasting time Arthur didn’t have. With one deep breath, he forced all memory of the last five minutes to the back of his mind and strode on towards the library, the destination he had intended to reach before he'd been so foolishly sidetracked.

[Virunee]

Brilliant, can't wait for the rest

[Marnie]

Wow, this just keeps getting better. Can't wait to read part 3!

[Disturbia]

Oooh nice! very interesting so keep writing please ;D i wish to read more !

[storr]

ooh this is good...cant wait for more!

[caz]

really enjoying your story cheers

[magicposition]

Wow, thanks for all the comments

Chapter 3

After five or so hours of seemingly endless searching, fatigue finally forced Merlin to relent in his hunt for knowledge, and he retired back to Gauis’ study, where he found the man himself still sitting at his table in exactly the same position Merlin had last seem him in. His glasses were perched loosely on the end of his nose, his head was bowed slightly, and, as Merlin took a step nearer to him, he discovered that the old man too had succumbed to tiredness, and had managed to fall asleep before even making it to his bed. Merlin was careful to make as little noise on his way past as he could – his steps were made by his toes alone – but his absent mindedness let him down just when he thought he’d succeeded, as he tripped over a book that had been carelessly left (admittedly, probably by Merlin himself) in the middle of the floor. Gauis awoke with a jolt, his head shooting up faster than one would assume his age would allow it to, and spun round to face Merlin, growling his name contemptuously as he did so.

“What are you still doing up at this hour? And what,” he paused as his eyes narrowed towards the door, “is that doing open?”

Merlin glanced over at the door and silently cursed himself for being so careless.

“I erm… I was just…”

Gauis raised his eyebrow in a manner so condemnatory Merlin knew that even if he did have an acceptable excuse; it would only serve to fall on deaf ears.

His eyes diverted away from Gauis’ accusing gaze and onto the page of the book that lay open on the table. It didn’t take more than a second for Gauis’ to notice, proceeding to hastily slam the book shut – a second too late.

Merlin’s eyes met his guardian’s once more, yet this time the guilt had shifted – and Gauis was the first to look away.

Merlin made a sharp, abrupt movement as he reached out to touch the book’s cover. Though slower, Gaius’ proximity in regards to the book enabled his hand to get there first. Merlin’s hand wavered over it for a few moments, before he defeatably let it fall back down to his side. When Merlin opened his mouth, he was surprised that his voice came out as nothing more than timid whisper.

“Why won’t-”

“Merlin.” Gauis spoke curtly. “I told you not to go looking for anything on the caves of Andrigan until I had done so first.”

“We don’t have much time. I can’t…” Merlin bit his lip as he felt a lump rise in his throat, making his voice waver with emotions which were quickly threatening to overwhelm all his self-control. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to continue, if only to prove that he could. “I can’t let Arthur die.”

“I know.” Gauis said, taking his hand off the book and resting it gently on Merlin’s shoulder.

Without uttering another word, Gauis opened the book and slowly stepped aside, allowing Merlin to read the page in its entirety.

The Caves of Andrigan

Residing on the east border of Camelot, the caves are renowned for the powerful violet crystals that reside inside them. The crystals’ reported magical powers (used for both healing and harming) have tempted many into entering the caves, but, for reasons still unknown, no person reported to have ever entered the caves has re-emerged. [/i]

Merlin read and re-read the last sentence over and over again, struggling to take in its heavy connotations.

“What are we going to do?” he breathed out, his voice made monotone by dumb shock.

Gauis didn’t reply - perhaps because he didn’t have an answer, or, as Merlin suspected, because the answer he did have wasn't something he could muster up enough strength to say out loud.

[storr]

ooh the suspense is building...