There were plenty of things that Merlin liked to do. He enjoyed talking to Gwen. He liked being at home with his mother. He definitely liked to do magic. Of the many, many things he liked, polishing Arthur’s armor did not make the list. Not just polishing the ‘regular’ suit of armor, but the three spare suits and sharpening his weapons, as well. Arthur had, in all his wisdom, decided that Merlin didn’t have enough to do since his armor always appeared at the ready.

Since Uther was being unusually vigilant, paranoid really, these days about magic, Merlin had to actually polish all the suits with his own hands. Sharpening the swords would quite possibly wind up an act of self-harm, depending on how clumsy he was at the time.

“It’s your own fault,” Gaius informed him without a hint of sympathy. The old man sat at the long table crushing herbs with mortar and pestle. “If you’d done your chores originally without magic, Arthur wouldn’t have such high expectations.”

Looking over at his mentor, Merlin complained, “But even for Arthur this is unreasonable!”

Gaius chuckled. “Nothing is unreasonable for Arthur. He is the Prince.”

Merlin muttered under his breath about lazy, condescending Princes, but not loud enough for Gaius to hear and take exception to. Rubbing more of the mixture into the metal breastplate, Merlin sighed and tried not to breathe in the noxious fumes the stuff gave off. He didn’t know where Arthur had gotten it, but the Prince refused to use anything else. He said the scent gave him extra strength in battle and jousting.

The door flung open just then to slam loudly against the wall. It startled Merlin into dropping the breastplate on his foot and he howled in pain, lurching to his feet, and hobbling about.

“Merlin! Oh, I’m so sorry!” Gwen exclaimed. “Gaius, come quick! Arthur’s had a fit!”

Instantly relegating his pained foot to the back of his mind, Merlin hopped after Gaius as fast as he could. The old man moved fast when he wanted to despite his age, and Merlin had a hard time keeping up. They ended in the Great Hall where Arthur lay insensate on the floor, Uther and Morgana kneeling beside him.

Morgana gave way to Gaius, who immediately checked Arthur’s throat and chest for breathing and then asked, “What happened?”

“We were talking,” Uther began, fear for his son evident in his pinched expression. “He simply collapsed and writhed about on the floor. He didn’t cry out and I saw no sign of magic, but there’s not a mark on him!”

Merlin briefly wondered at how there never seemed to be any emotion from the elder Pendragon for Arthur unless his son was injured or near death. Then he pushed the thought back as unkind and focused on Gaius’ swift movements over Arthur’s body.

Gaius ultimately said, “I see no reason for this, Majesty, I am sorry. Let us move him somewhere more comfortable. Merlin, help bring the Prince to his rooms.”

Merlin nodded soberly and helped the other servants carry Arthur to his bed. He was heavy with muscle and it took four of them to complete the task. Once they’d deposited Arthur in the bed, Merlin made sure to pull the heavy blankets around him and see that he was comfortable. The slackness in the other’s face was awful. Merlin was so used to seeing his eyes open and lively, regardless of whether teasing Merlin or making him toil. To see him brought so low…

“You may assist me by keeping an eye on Arthur,” Gaius said kindly.

Startling at the unexpected voice that interrupted his thoughts, Merlin nodded quickly. “Thank you. I mean yes, I will. What do you think it is?”

Gaius sighed. “Magic, what else could it be?”

Merlin thought for a moment and then suggested seriously, “Poison? A natural fit? What about a reaction to something he ate?”

Lips pursed, Gaius admitted, “It could be any of those, I suppose. You’re a smart lad, Merlin.”

Uther, who’d followed swiftly behind them, questioned, “Why would it be a fit? He’s perfectly healthy, strong as an ox.”

“He’s had a number of blows to the head over the years,” Gaius pointed out, sounding reluctant. “Merlin’s quite right to be worried that perhaps yesterday’s jousting was one blow too many. As for a reaction to something he ate, well, that’s not as likely since he’s never had that problem before, but it is possible. I do think magic the most likely culprit given the lack of physical manifestation, but we cannot ignore the natural world for guarding against the unnatural one.”

Uther nodded tensely and commanded Merlin, “Stay with him. Inform me immediately of any changes.”

Gaius frowned and questioned delicately, “Would you not rather look after Arthur yourself, Majesty?”

Uther’s face took on a fierce, almost hateful cast. “I must needs order out the Guard to search the area for magic wielders. If you believe it to be magic, Gaius, then someone will be at the other end of this foul spell.”

Without another word, the King strode from the room.

Alarmed, Merlin looked at Gaius to ask what they should do when Gwen entered with Morgana. Both the women looked worried, though Gwen the only one who looked fearful.

“We’ll stay with him,” Morgana announced firmly. “Merlin, go help Gaius prepare whatever he needs to heal Arthur.”

Merlin was going to protest that he couldn’t countermand the King, but Gaius interjected, “Thank you, my Lady. Merlin, come along.”

Taking one last look at Arthur, wishing he could do more, Merlin hurried after Gaius.

* * * *

There was something in the dark with him. Through the all-over pain and fear, something watched as Arthur stumbled blindly. All around lay obstacles that hurt when he touched them, but he couldn’t avoid them in the utter blackness that surrounded him. He shouted in vain for help, knowing magic was afoot. He called for his father and his knights over and again. The maze through which he traveled mockingly sent his voice back to him.

A timeless eternity later, driven by the thought that he might not ever get free, touched in part by madness and belief, Arthur cried out for the one who’d never failed him…

“Merlin! Merlin, help!”

* * * *

Jolting awake with the sound of Arthur shouting his name, Merlin groaned at the pinch in his neck. He’d fallen asleep at the table in the small hours. His hand still gripped the pestle and daylight did not yet filter through the high outer window. The cold air had the presence of just before dawn, when magics were at their strongest and people at their most vulnerable. Letting go the pestle, Merlin rubbed the sore hand and looked around for Gaius.

In the three days since Arthur’s collapse, the healer had been working non-stop to find a cure. Merlin hadn’t seen him sleep yet. Morgana and Gwen took turns feeding water and milk to Arthur, dripping it carefully into his mouth in the quest to keep him alive. Merlin had felt singularly useless upon discovering that not even his magic could break through the dark cloud now surrounding Arthur. A cloud that had gathered slowly and that only Merlin could see; not even Gaius had any sight of it, though Merlin had told him it was there.

They couldn’t tell Uther of the confirmation of magic without revealing Merlin’s, which restriction again chafed greatly. Merlin pored over books that weren’t supposed to exist while Gaius tried to find a natural cause. Standing and shaking off the useless thoughts, Merlin went back to Arthur’s room and found him wan and thin, far more so than three days of fasting should allow. If he didn’t know better, he would presume Nimueh to be behind it all, but she’d been vanquished.

Uther sat beside the bed in a chair brought close, sleeping, so Merlin looked his fill of Arthur and then went in search of the Dragon. He’d gone down each night, but the beast had refused to answer him. Feeling a bit wild at Arthur’s continued decline, knowing he had to save the man who was…so important…Merlin traversed the familiar path through the guards’ room and dungeons and down the stairs to the ledge where he’d shouted in vain the last two days.

Taking a breath, Merlin looked into the black of the stone cave and vowed quietly, “If you will not help me save him, I swear by all that’s holy, I will find a way to destroy you.”

There was silence for a full minute and then the rustling of wings. Moments later, the Dragon alighted on its usual perch, its large eyes unreadable as ever. “You have found that place within that all must find when delving into darkness.”

“No riddles!” Merlin ordered sharply. “Just tell me what I need to do to save Arthur.”

The Dragon seemed unusually grave, the ever-present spark of condescension gone as he replied, “I give you no riddle, young Merlin. In order to save your other half, you must overcome the darkness within and lead him back. The only way to do this, however, is to find the Crystal Eye and peer through it to find where foul magic has hidden him.”

“Hidden him? He’s right upstairs in his room!” Merlin exclaimed, frustration rushing through him.

Ignoring the outburst, the Dragon repeated, “Find the Crystal Eye and you may yet save him,” before flying back into the darkness above.

Merlin knew further demands would yield no further discourse. He ran back the way he came and was so upset with the lack of help that he almost forgot to shield himself from the guards on duty. It was only at the last second that he remembered and saved himself unanswerable questions.

In the rooms he shared with Gaius, Merlin explained what the Dragon had told him and received an aghast look from the old man. Gaius told him, “The Eye is just a legend!”

“So was the Isle of Avalon,” Merlin retorted. “Where do I hunt for this and how long does Arthur have?”

Gaius looked on him solemnly for a long time before sighing. “If it exists, the Eye will be in the Caves of Ilor far to the north. It is said to be guarded by wildmen and fierce beasts. Merlin, I do not see how you could hope to get there and back in time to save Arthur. If he continues on as he does now, I doubt he’ll last the week.”

“Then I’ll have to be fast,” Merlin flatly stated.

Gaius’ worried gaze followed him as Merlin put together a small bag of necessities. He would stop by the kitchens on the way out and fill what space was left with food. He gave Gaius a brief hug before running out of their quarters. Minutes later, he’d nimbly avoided Gwen and stolen enough food to last the journey. Stealing a horse was next and he prayed that it would be just as easy, since they generally liked to throw him off more than let him ride.

In the stables, Merlin found the great black beast that Arthur liked to ride already saddled, as if waiting for him. It was suspicious timing, but he had no choice but to tell the creature, “I’m borrowing you to save your master’s life. If you throw me off or waste time in any fashion, I’ll find a way to make them geld you. Do we understand each other?”

The stallion huffed right in his face, but stood docile enough as Merlin hauled himself into the saddle. As soon as he was settled, the beast launched itself out the stable at a perilous speed and Merlin held on for dear life.

* * * *

Arthur didn’t even have the strength to move anymore. It felt as though he’d been wandering around the darkness forever and every part of him hurt. He sat, or maybe laid, on a flat, hard surface and tried to not lose himself any further. He knew something had trapped him, even though he didn’t remember how. Arthur vaguely remembered arguing with his father and Morgana about something and then darkness had taken him mid-word.

His mind rambled through memories and thoughts that barely made sense, even to himself. Images of his life, with his father, with Morgana, but mostly with Merlin, passed before his mind’s eye, the only solace in a world of nothing.

…Merlin it is…

The sibilant voice startled Arthur from his memories and he forced himself upright, or what he thought was upright to demand, “Who are you? What do you want?”

There was no answer, though and the darkness pressed in harder, as if a physical presence. Arthur moaned in renewed pain and fell back, trying to conserve his strength until Merlin could find him.