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MerlinReverseBB: The Silent Killer {Final Part}
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The next morning, Arthur along with Aithusa went to see Merlin before they departed. Hazel met them at the door and she apologized that Merlin couldn't see them. He'd had a bad night's sleep due to his worsening illness, and he was in a bit of a sour mood. Either way, it was best that Arthur keep away from him due to the danger he posed to Merlin.
While Arthur had been disappointed to not be able to see Merlin, he was also even more determined to free Merlin of this curse.
As they made their way to Morgana’s, Arthur reminded Aithusa of what he had told him the previous evening after dinner with Gwen. Especially the part about not betraying that they knew the trigger. Morgana wouldn’t be expecting that they would know.
She wasn’t aware of Hazel and how her curse wasn’t able to trick Merlin’s magic for long. It was best to pretend that they didn’t know. Arthur knew that Merlin didn’t want Morgana to know about Hazel. No doubt she would use that information against Merlin in some manner.
It was just before midday that he and Aithusa arrived at Morgana’s hovel. She didn’t answer the door, but Arthur saw that the door was left ajar.
He invited himself in with Aithusa perched on his shoulder. The place was dark, cloaked in shadow as only a few candles lit the inside.
Morgana was seated at a square table. She smiled at Arthur all too pleasantly. “I expect you’re quite intent on detaching my head from my neck with that special sword of yours,” Morgana guessed as if she was only discussing the weather.
“I want the cure to the spell you put on Merlin,” Arthur told her coldly, one hand clutching his sword hilt, waiting to use the blade. “And you will tell me.”
Morgana only looked amused. “And what if I don’t tell you? You’ll kill me, right?” She assumed, still smiling that self-satisfied smile. “That won’t solve anything if you must know.”
“What do you mean?”
“Would you at least sit down? You seem tense, Arthur. Sitting down could help you,” Morgana suggested.
Arthur grit his teeth. “Just answer the question, Morgana. What is the cure?” He demanded.
Morgana’s gaze shifted to Aithusa. “Do you feel brave, dear brother, bringing the little dragon with you? Everyone has their Achilles’ heel. Luckily, I know yours, and you played right into my game by touching Merlin. Can you imagine what would have happened if you had been physically intimate with him? How embarrassing that would be to have Merlin die amidst such an act. An act of love turns into an act of death. It makes for a lovely poem, don’t you think?”
Arthur hardly paid attention to Morgana’s smug speech as he came to a realization. “So killing you – the spell’s original caster – won’t cure Merlin. Is that it?”
“Has all this time with Merlin made you smarter? I’m impressed, Arthur. Very impressed.”
“Are you planning to tell me the cure or to grace me with your irritatingly smug smile all day?” Arthur asked her, glaring at his half-sister.
“If you must be terribly impatient, then here you are: no cure exists for the spell afflicting Merlin. I made the curse without any antidote or cure to lift it. I frankly thought it unnecessary,” Morgana told him dismissively, waving her hand. “The only cure, the only reprieve your precious Merlin has is to die for good. There it is. Your cure. And neither touching him for the rest of your life nor keeping your distance will make Merlin’s condition any better. That first touch that triggered the curse was enough to keep Merlin miserably ill for the rest of his pathetic existence. Until his body can’t take it anymore and he dies. Of course, your continued touch would have sped up your poor Merlin’s journey to the grave. The best thing you could do for him, Arthur, is to let him die and end his suffering. You’ve grown wiser, so I do hope you take my words to heart,” she said all too sweetly. She smirked at him.
“You’re lying. I know you are,” Arthur argued, refusing to believe that there was absolutely no cure to save Merlin’s life.
Morgana twisted her lips. “You can torture me as many times as you like, Arthur, but I will tell you the same thing. I fashioned this curse – I’m quite proud of the achievement – without a cure. There is no cure. None at all.”
Then Aithusa spoke to him mind-to-mind. “I’m afraid the dark witch is speaking the truth. I see it in her eyes. She’s not lying. I’m sorry, Arthur, but she is right. This spell is of her own making and it would be just like her to insure there was no way to cure Merlin. I wish this weren’t true, but you know that my dragon magic can tell whether or not someone is speaking lies or truths.”
Arthur’s jaw clenched tightly, and his hands gripped the table. It couldn’t be true. It just couldn’t be. He couldn’t, wouldn’t lose Merlin. Not like this. Not when his touch had initiated Morgana’s terrible curse.
No. Aithusa was wrong. Morgana had to be lying. There was always a solution. There had to be a cure. He wouldn’t accept anything less. This was Merlin’s life at risk and Arthur wouldn’t give up on him.
His mind was overwhelmed with thoughts of how to save Merlin, to get Morgana to speak the truth because she was lying. She was a liar. There was a way to cure Merlin that didn’t involve his death.
“Please,” he silently prayed to anyone who would listen, “give me a sign. Tell me there is a way.”
However hidden the cure was, Arthur would search high and low for it. He just needed to know that a cure existed.
Arthur sat down opposite her with a heavy sigh. “Fine. I believe you. I don’t like it, but I believe you. Did you give a name to this curse? Or did you just name it, ‘Morgana’s Curse’?”
Morgana rolled her eyes. “I’d never name it something so dull. I call it the ‘The Silent Killer’ curse since no one is able to deduce what could be causing the curse. The mind’s silence will prove the victim’s downfall. Merlin would’ve died and you wouldn’t have known the special part you played in his untimely death. It’s truly a beautiful curse, I have to say,” she declared, sounding especially pleased with herself.
“Then why are you telling me all this about the touch?” Arthur wanted to know. “If you hadn’t, I would have continued touching him and Merlin would’ve died sooner.”
Morgana shrugged. “I admit I have my weaknesses too. I couldn’t resist boasting. It is somewhat lonely living here and I always do appreciate company. And actually, I do prefer Merlin suffering longer than dying quickly by your continued touch. Dying isn’t enough pain for Merlin, oh no. His suffering during his sickness is so much more rewarding for me. Now that’s proper torture. Death would mean a sweet, peaceful blessing to him. I’d rather prolong his torture as long as I can. That’s why I told you the details. Either way, dear brother, good luck finding a non-existent cure,” she wished him sardonically, smiling widely, still amused at Arthur’s misery upon learning of the lack of a cure.
Arthur gave her a vicious glare that would have killed her right then and there if he had magic powering his glare.
“Go to hell,” he shot back at Morgana as he stood up.
He silently told Aithusa what to do.
With a relish, Aithusa breathed fire. The stream of fire was thoughtfully directed to burn a hole through Morgana’s right hand and even into the table her hand had been resting on.
Her eyes widened and she bit back a yell of pain at the unexpected attack.
“Next time, it’ll be much worse than just your hand,” Arthur vowed to her, his blue eyes glowing in anger.
Then Arthur and Aithusa left Morgana’s hovel, not waiting for Morgana to have the last word. She was probably too occupied with her burned hand anyway.
Unfortunately, Arthur didn’t feel satisfied enough at Morgana’s injury. He had learned nothing of use, nothing that could help Merlin.
What was he supposed to do now?
~ * ~
Merlin looked intently upon the painting of him on the far wall facing his bed. The painting had been done soon after he had been given the position of Court Sorcerer and Physician. Gaius had died only weeks into Arthur’s reign, and Merlin had taken on the Court Physician role because he hadn’t trusted anyone else to do it. But he had found himself overwhelmed with his two positions that at Arthur’s urging, Merlin relented and hired an apprentice, William, to help him in treating patients.
The arrangement worked out nicely for Merlin, he had to admit. Especially now when he felt so miserable that he was half-tempted to down poison to end his life, but Merlin couldn’t bear to do that to Arthur. To give up on himself when Arthur was doing what he could to save him was the worst thing he could do. And that would mean Morgana would have won too. Merlin couldn’t die with that knowledge.
At least Merlin felt reassured that his apprentice William could handle taking over for him while he was too ill to do so.
Fortunately now, he recalled a spell he had glanced over some time ago. He hadn’t taken much interest in it at the time because it had seemed ridiculous and a bit fanciful. But now, it just may be what could save him.
He slowly made his way to the portrait, for hidden behind it was a magical entrance to his private chambers where he kept his prized books and conducted magic experiments.
“I know what spell you’re considering,” Hazel indicated to him silently from inside of Merlin.
“It’s the best, maybe the only cure we have. Remember it said that doing this spell would defeat the most powerful of curses?”
“But it has to be followed exactly, and there are some things that don’t fit,” Hazel reminded him.
“I know. But with dragon magic, I think we can make this succeed. I can’t just sit here feeling terrible anyway. I want to feel useful, Hazel.”
“A visit to Kilgharrah is in order then,” Hazel concluded, unwilling to protest with Merlin when she could feel how desperate he was to take action.
“Yes, after I retrieve the book the spell’s in.”
Merlin magically made the painting turn over to the side and he spoke the spell to conjure the door.
Opening the door, he was unpleasantly reminded of the stairs heading down into the darkness. He felt himself on the verge of throwing up again as he imagined managing his way down those stairs.
Merlin didn’t have to ask Hazel before she magically transported him into the chambers. The place was magically illuminated with floating flames of light. Then in less than a second, she found him the book, setting it on his reading table, and flipped to the desired page. Merlin smiled as he read the spell.
Hope blossomed within him.
~ * ~
“Have you heard of this spell, Kilgharrah?” Merlin asked the Great Dragon in the forest outside Camelot.
Kilgharrah peered at the page of the floating book before him. “The ‘true love conquers all’ enchantment. I am aware of it. So this is your way to defeat Morgana’s curse. Aithusa told me about your illness. How are you feeling, young warlock?”
Merlin gave the dragon a look. “Miserable,” he confided in him before he fell to his knees in a coughing fit. He tried to overcome it, taking deep breaths, and willing himself to stop coughing. Hazel gave him a glass of water to soothe his dry throat. He decided to sit down. Merlin continued on, determined to see this through. “If this spell can remove the curse, then I’d be grateful for your help.”
“Of course I would help you,” Kilgharrah assured him. “There is no question of that. But the journey to the Castle of the Faeries will be dangerous. Do you believe, Merlin, that the love you and Arthur share for one another will be powerful enough to make this spell work?”
Merlin nodded. “I haven’t believed in anything more strongly than my love for Arthur. That part of the spell will not be a problem. Yet there are some details that may prove troublesome.”
“Ah yes,” the dragon acknowledged, looking over the parts that didn’t fit. “The requirement of a prince is purely symbolic. Even though Arthur hasn’t been a prince for months now, a King should still work for the spell. And with my dragon magic, we can resolve the maiden issue. Remember this, Merlin, if you put enough powerful magic behind a spell, then it can be twisted to work for you. You are powerful enough to make this spell effective despite the transformation.”
“Good. That’s what I was hoping,” Merlin said, and he took the magic book back from the dragon. “What did you mean about the journey to the castle being dangerous? I’ll do this regardless. Nothing will deter me. But I want to know what to expect.”
“I will tell you, but I think you’d like to undergo the change now.”
“Why is that?” Merlin wondered.
Kilgharrah smiled. “The witch’s curse was made on an assumption that Arthur would touch you while you’re a man. But if you turn into a woman, then the curse will no longer affect you as long as you remain a woman. This is a temporary reprieve, of course, since you will return to your original state after Arthur does his part.”
“So I won’t feel ill anymore during the change?” Merlin asked hopefully.
“That’s right,” the dragon acknowledged. “You will be free from the curse for a time.”
“Then do it please. I can’t refuse a chance to feel well again. And the sooner I change, the better it’ll be growing accustomed to the differences.”
The Great Dragon directed him to stand up, and Merlin did his best to, though he was feeling rather dizzy. He didn’t trust himself to stay standing for long. Inside him, Hazel applied magic to aid in keeping his balance and preventing him from falling. The assistance from his magic helped Merlin a little.
Kilgharrah spoke a string of words in the dragon tongue. Merlin felt a great swirl of magic wrap around him to the point that he thought he was being spun around.
Fortunately the feeling lasted only a few minutes and once the magical transformation was complete, Merlin felt smaller. He found himself wearing a white ball gown with long sleeves – puffed from the shoulders down to his elbows. The material of the dress looked as glistening and iridescent as ice. Small amber stones were embroidered on the bodice of the dress, dotting the front to add a bit of colour to the costume.
At the top, the bodice formed a soft curve revealing a little of his cleavage. His shoulders were bare as the puffed sleeves refused to stay on them. The bodice fit his newly altered chest area well and made him notice the changes in his new form more clearly. Merlin felt a necklace of quartz and amber at his neck and on his ears, he wore dangling silver earrings.
He saw that his hair – still the same dark colour thank goodness – was wavy and styled down – reaching as far as his shoulders. Touching the top of his head, Merlin felt an undeniable volume at the top, his hair being puffed up a bit. On both sides of his head, there were delicate silver hair ornaments clasped to his hair.
Feeling boots on his feet instead of heels, Merlin was grateful that Kilgharrah had been considerate enough to give him comfortable shoes to wear. The somewhat gaudy ball gown was another story. At least it was a simple color even though he would stand out in the gown no matter where he went.
Most importantly, Merlin felt completely healthy again. He felt like he could run a great distance. He had almost forgotten how it was not to be sick. Despite not dealing with the cursed illness for long, it had taken an unpleasant toll on Merlin. He was overwhelmed with relief at this temporary freedom he had been granted.
“Is there a reason for all of this?” Merlin asked the dragon, waving at his fancy gown and all the jewelry. His voice had been changed too – sounding higher, and more melodic. It reminded him of Freya.
“You need to play the part properly, young warlock – or should it be sorceress now?” Merlin gave Kilgharrah a sharp look at the amused tone of the dragon’s voice.
“So it’s not just about turning into a woman,” Merlin concluded.
“Yes. And all the better if you feel strange in your new form…since as they say, the goal will be more rewarding when it’s not an easy endeavor to accomplish it.”
Merlin sighed, idly pressing down the smooth material of his gown. He would just do his best to deal with the change. Anything to permanently remove the curse from him when he returned to being a man.
Then Hazel jumped out of him. She – or no—Merlin was startled to hear Hazel speak and discovered that his magic had undergone a change. Hazel’s voice had deepened. She sounded masculine.
“Oh, I almost forgot about your enchantment on your magic,” Kilgharrah noted. “Since you are now a female, Hazel has changed as well. Into a male panther. I believe the spell you used to alter the form of your magic requires a balance.”
Merlin nodded. “Like having both sides of a coin. Each side needs to be the opposite to maintain the balance. Yes, I know. I had almost forgotten about you being affected, Hazel. How do you feel?”
Hazel looked to be coping with the change well enough. “I’m feeling all right. What matters most is ending Morgana’s curse, so don’t worry about me. I just want to make sure you’re well again.”
Merlin smiled at Hazel and he affectionately stroked her – or was it ‘him’ now? – behind the ears. Then he turned his attention to the Great Dragon.
“Now, what about the dangerous journey to the Castle of the Faeries?” Merlin asked the dragon.
“You will be thwarted by the Silent Phantoms.”
Merlin looked at Kilgharrah in disbelief. “I thought the Silent Phantoms were a myth.”
“Unfortunately for you, they are not myths. The Silent Phantoms do exist, and due to your transformation, these invisible and, as the name suggests, silent creatures will attempt to stop you from succeeding. The Phantoms will see you as ‘wrong’ due to your transformation and will seek to return you to your original form before you can achieve your goal. The good thing is that they will ask for your permission to be a man again. But of course, you don’t want that before the ‘true love conquers all’ enchantment takes its course. If you defy them for too long, then the Silent Phantoms will aim to kill you,” the dragon warned him.
“I have the feeling they’ll do things that’ll leave me pleading with them to change me back?” Merlin deduced, recalling tales of the viciousness of these magical entities.
Kilgharrah nodded. “To that end, your magic may not be able to perform at her best since the Phantoms will do what they can to stop you. To make you so frustrated on your journey, that you give in and allow them to turn you back. So you must be wary and go as quickly as you can. Once you are inside the Castle of the Faeries, then you will have won.”
“Thank you, Kilgharrah. I’ll be on my way now.”
“Very well. Good luck.” The dragon wished him before he flew off.
Only moments later, Merlin felt a sudden cold seize him and he shivered. Why had it grown colder? He soon received his answer when he looked up at the sky. Snow was coming down. How could it snow in the middle of spring? Could it be the Silent Phantoms? Merlin dreaded to find out what would happen when the snow began to overwhelm him and discourage him from his task.
Meanwhile, Hazel looked pleased to see the snow, the white dots of snow covering his magic’s dark mottled coat. Hazel put out her – as she was only a male temporarily, and Merlin still thought of her as female – tongue to catch snowflakes upon it.
He shook his head at his magic’s enthusiasm. “Come on. Keep an eye out,” Merlin advised Hazel.
His magic walked alongside him. Soon – far too soon for Merlin’s liking -- the snow blanketed the forest around them. Hazel’s big paw prints were quickly lost as new snow came to cover any imperfections. The snow ended up reaching Merlin’s ankles.
And then the blizzard came.
~ * ~
“Arthur!” Gwen called to him as she rushed down the castle stairs.
She held a letter in her hands.
With a curious Aithusa on his shoulder, Arthur went to meet her. “What is it, Guinevere?” He asked urgently.
“Merlin has gone, Arthur.”
“What do you mean, ‘gone’?” Arthur wondered in dismay.
Gwen shook her head, smiling a little. “I think -- well, I hope it’s a good thing. According to the letter – here,” she gave him the letter.
Arthur perused the letter. If the letter was true, then Merlin had succeeded on finding the cure and had left Camelot to travel to the place where the enchantment needed to be done. Yet the letter was vague regarding the details of the cure. Merlin did indicate that he would visit Kilgharrah first. But what did Merlin have to do exactly to cure himself?
And how could Merlin possibly go on a journey in his weakened state? Unless, hopefully, Hazel would be able to magically transport him directly to the destination. Still, Arthur didn’t know if this cure allowed for magical travel as magic spells could be irritating that way. Arthur dreaded to think how Merlin was managing if he had to walk a long distance.
“I’m sure Merlin found a way, with Hazel’s help, to survive traveling despite his ailment,” Aithusa assured Arthur.
Arthur handed the letter back to Gwen. “Thank you for notifying me. You are aware that the letter wasn’t written by Merlin? The penmanship is too perfect for a human hand, and there is a slight golden glow to the letters. I expect Hazel wrote the letter for him.”
Gwen nodded. “Yes, that’s what William thought too. He was the one who discovered the letter in Merlin’s chambers. He told me about it right away. Maybe Merlin wanted to give you the appearance that he had everything under control by a neatly composed letter?”
“I’m going to give him a good talking to once he comes back. Leaving without telling me about it in advance,” Arthur said in mild frustration. “What I don’t understand is that this shouldn’t be possible – Merlin finding a cure. Morgana told me that she had devised her curse without a cure. Aithusa confirmed that she was telling the truth. So how could Merlin find a cure to end Morgana’s spell?”
Gwen bit her lip, looking as puzzled as Arthur. “Maybe,” she suggested, “Merlin knew of a spell – most likely a powerful one – to counteract Morgana’s curse. Even if Morgana hadn’t made a specific cure for the curse that surely doesn’t mean there isn’t any hope of a cure.”
“You have a good point,” Arthur conceded. “I’m glad that Merlin was able to thwart Morgana. It’s how it should be after all,” he declared with a pleased smile.
He then requested of Aithusa if the dragon could contact Kilgharrah. Maybe the Great Dragon had some information about what Merlin was doing for this mysterious cure.
Luckily Aithusa didn’t have to leave to speak with the other dragon. He was able to mentally communicate with Kilgharrah across any distance.
After a few minutes, Aithusa confided in Arthur that Kilgharrah didn’t tell him a lot. That the only thing Arthur should know is that ‘magic would guide his way, and he would be with Merlin again at the end of his journey. And that Arthur’s quest should be completed on his own.’ Arthur relayed to Gwen what Aithusa had told him.
“That seems very like Kilgharrah to be mysterious,” Gwen noted.
Arthur sighed, rubbing the back of his head. “Unfortunately. All right. I guess I’ll go find Merlin then. Aithusa, I want you to maintain communication with Kilgharrah, make sure Merlin is okay on his journey. Better yet, could you contact Merlin?”
Aithusa shook his head. “It’s much easier to communicate with Kilgharrah. It’s difficult to speak to Merlin now. I’m not sure why. It might have to do with the secrecy of the cure. But Kilgharrah assured me that he was keeping an eye on Merlin.”
“As long as Merlin isn’t completely on his own,” Arthur conceded. “And there’s Hazel, of course. I should prepare for my journey,” he decided, ready to look for Merlin and hopefully find him cured.
“You just returned from Morgana’s, Arthur,” Gwen admonished him. “You should rest a little. At least eat something. Merlin wouldn’t want you falling asleep on him when you find him.”
“You’re right. I can’t deny I’m impatient to seek out Merlin, but I could do with some rest and a good meal,” Arthur agreed.
At first light the next day, Arthur departed to find Merlin. He felt the pull of magic to direct him into the right path.
But as he progressed on his travels, Arthur was perplexed to see the weather worsening. Why was snow falling when it was the middle of spring?
And then the blizzard came.
Arthur’s horse was so unsettled by the sudden, inexplicable storm that the poor creature refused to listen to Arthur’s commands. With a heavy heart, Arthur had to leave the horse behind, and he took his pack with him. Once Arthur had climbed off his steed, he was startled to see the horse magically disappear. He hoped the horse had been returned to the stables at the castle, safe from this blizzard. But as the howling winds whipped at him, Arthur could spare little thought for his magically vanishing horse when he had to deal with a raging snowstorm.
Fortunately he had packed his heavy winter cloak – Gwen had forced him to take it despite it being spring with a reminder that you never knew with magic, so best be prepared for any occasion. Arthur gratefully put it on along with his warm gloves.
He trudged through the snow, determined to find Merlin, and intent on that pull of magic to guide his way.
~ * ~
Merlin was able to magically conjure a blue winter cloak with a hood. It was lined with white fur. The cloak protected him from the cold, but it wasn’t good enough to withstand it for long periods of time. Any warming charms he attempted to do, through Hazel who was back inside him, faded away shortly after he put them on. The Silent Phantoms appeared to be thwarting his effort at keeping himself warm.
He couldn’t conjure gloves for his hands either, and he told Hazel to keep reinforcing the warming charm particularly for his bare hands and for his feet. The moisture from the snow was too easily seeping into his boots, and though he wore stockings, they wouldn’t last long against this freezing cold. His hands and feet were the most vulnerable parts of his body and he especially needed to keep his feet warmed or else he’d be unable to walk.
Merlin wouldn’t let those bloody Phantoms win. He moved his cloak closer about his body, and stuck his hands inside his cloak to keep them away from the blistering cold.
Reaching the Lake of Avalon, Freya’s lake, and Merlin was unsurprised to see the whole lake frozen over.
“I have to walk across it. There’s no other way to the Castle,” Merlin said grimly.
He was uncertain about managing this what with the harsh winds always ready to blow him off his feet. And what if the ice would turn out to be thin and he’d fall into freezing water? That’s what the Silent Phantoms would hope for, he had little doubt.
“In your lighter form as a woman, maybe you’d have a better chance…” Hazel silently suggested to him from inside Merlin’s body.
Merlin bit his lip. “Hopefully. But this is the perfect opportunity for the Phantoms to stop me,” he said knowingly, frustrated at the thought.
But he didn’t have much of a choice, so he cautiously put one foot onto the ice. Feeling the ice’s thickness, his confidence grew, but then he couldn’t help remind himself that the Phantoms would trick him. This could be a ploy to give him a false sense of security only for disaster to happen.
He put his other foot on the ice and then he steadily made his way across the great frozen lake. The lake seemed bigger, wider, to him now maybe due to the danger he was putting himself in.
Hazel used magic to allow Merlin to keep better balance as the whistling wind threatened to topple him.
Relief swept through him as he neared the shore on the opposite side of the shore. Then his luck ran out as the ice cracked beneath him. He fell into the freezing cold water. Merlin tried to keep his head above water, but he felt something invisible – the Phantoms? – pushing his head down into the water so that he would drown. Fortunately Hazel immediately gave him gills, to help him breathe under the water. But Merlin feared how long he could retain the gills with the Phantoms likely to remove the spell. The warming charm was still faltering, and Hazel was growing weary of reinforcing it yet she still persisted. She was as determined as Merlin to beat the Silent Phantoms.
After what felt like forever, but was actually only half an hour, Hazel told him that she believed Freya was nearby. Merlin was grateful to hear the news. The magical gills were losing their effectiveness as the Phantoms tried to remove that spell.
He reached out a hand above the water while Hazel forced the Phantoms away with magic.
Merlin felt a hand grasp his and then he was pulled out of the water and placed on dry land. Hazel lifted the gills spell once he was lying on the shore.
He coughed up any water that had found its way into his lungs.
“Hello, Merlin,” Freya greeted him quietly. “You look nice.”
Merlin sat up, and he moved to stand, but Freya urged him to remain sitting. He should rest for a little bit.
“When I last saw you, you looked sad, and then you wished me good luck. Did you know about Morgana’s curse?” Merlin asked her.
Freya was apologetic. “Yes and no. I knew that she had placed a powerful curse on you, but I wasn’t aware of the details. I couldn’t warn you the last time you visited the Lake. I had to let things come to pass, to allow Arthur to touch you to initiate the curse. Sometimes magic can do such wonderful things, but other times, the rules can prove frustrating. I am sorry.”
“I understand how complicated magic can be. No need to apologize. I’m grateful for your help now. I think I would have drowned if you hadn’t come. I’m half-doubtful I’ll make it to the Castle before the Silent Phantoms get a hold of me,” Merlin said despondently.
Freya kneeled down beside him, squeezing his shoulder to reassure him. “You will reach the Castle of the Faeries. You’re you after all. You’re Merlin. You can do this,” she intimated to him in a fervent tone. “And I believe Arthur is on his way.”
Merlin smiled. “Thank you, Freya. Hopefully Arthur won’t be too angry with me for not explaining the details of this cure in the letter. I guess I wanted to surprise him a bit,” he mused.
Freya shook her head, somewhat amused. “I do have to say that you look quite pretty as a woman,” she complimented him. “I like the gown.”
“Thanks,” Merlin said, and then he stood up, preparing to leave. “Well I should go. My magic can’t keep the Phantoms away forever unfortunately,” he noted sadly.
Freya wished him well and he left the Lake of Avalon. A snow-covered plain that appeared to stretch on forever met Merlin. The undisturbed blanket of snow was a beautiful sight to behold, but he felt nearly overwhelmed with crossing this expanse of land.
But he knew he was approaching the Castle of the Faeries. Only a few miles left to go. He was grateful that he didn’t have to hike any mountains at least. As he began to trek along the flat landscape, Merlin felt the very uncomfortable pressure of the Silent Phantoms trying to grab him and attempting to rip his cloak off his body.
There was nothing else for it. He had to run. The speed would hopefully make it harder for the Phantoms to get a hold of him.
Hazel jumped out of his body in her usual panther form, apparently wanting to stretch her legs. She ran beside him, though sometimes she lagged behind, flashing her golden eyes at the invisible Phantoms. Hazel kept them at bay as best as she could.
After the danger had passed, Merlin would imagine that certainly this would have been a sight to see – a woman in a white gown covered by a heavy cloak running with a big mottled cat racing alongside her across a pristine white landscape. A landscape that made Hazel certainly stand out with her blue and black fur.
~ * ~
Arthur reached the shore of the Lake of Avalon. He saw that the lake was frozen, understandable due to the inexplicable snowstorm and cold weather.
Freya appeared in front of him. “Hello, Arthur Pendragon,” she greeted him with a smile.
“Freya,” he acknowledged her with a nod. “Did Merlin pass through here?”
“Yes, he did,” she confirmed for him. “Your path will cross with his soon.”
“Thank you. Is this odd snowstorm in the midst of spring a part of Merlin’s cure? I understand if you don’t know. It’s just Merlin didn’t give much explanation in his letter…” Arthur told her.
Freya looked at him kindly. She shook her head. “Oh no. This snow is due to the Silent Phantoms – invisible and silent magical creatures who seek to thwart Merlin freeing himself from the witch’s curse. And since you hope to help him, the Phantoms are forcing you to deal with this snowstorm as well. Merlin’s journey is more harrowing than yours as the Phantoms’ energies are more focused upon him. I hope that sets you a little at ease.”
“For myself, yes, but not for Merlin’s sake. Is he all right?” Arthur inquired earnestly, hoping for good news. “He’s been very ill due to the curse. I don’t see how long he can survive in this cold winter weather.”
“Don’t worry. Merlin’s magic is looking after him as she always does,” she assured him, her voice soothing to Arthur’s ears and her words helped to calm his concern over Merlin. “Just concentrate on finding him, Arthur. That’s my advice to you.”
Arthur thanked her, telling her that he’d follow her advice. Then he steadily crossed the frozen lake. Fortunately the ice held true and didn’t break.
~ * ~
Merlin began to feel the ground shake, and he tried in vain to remain standing but it was useless.
Something was coming out of the snow. That something was a rocky structure that was soon blanketed by the white snow falling down upon him and Hazel.
As the rock structure grew taller, Hazel retreated back inside Merlin. Unpleasantly, he soon enough found himself clinging to the edge of a cliff. The cliff was too high up to fall from, and Merlin didn’t dare try in case the Phantoms sabotaged his attempt by granting him a nasty landing.
If he could just get back on to the rocky surface so he wasn’t dangling precariously at the edge. Only his desperate grip on a piece of jutting rock saved him from falling. The snow was making it harder to maintain his hold on the rock much to his dismay.
“I can’t do this much longer,” Merlin indicated to his magic inside his mind.
Hazel assured him that she had an idea, but that she needed a bit of time to make it work. His magic gave him a burst of magical energy to renew his strength in maintaining a grip on the edge.
Just as he felt his fingers slipping from the edge, a black male Pegasus – that is, a winged horse, appeared below him. Merlin let go of the cliff and landed on the back of the Pegasus. No wonder it had taken Hazel some time to conjure a winged horse – they were almost as extraordinary a magical creature as dragons. It certainly took a lot of magical power to conjure such a grand creature. His gown was altered to more appropriate riding attire – shirt, jacket and fitted trousers.
Merlin hadn’t ridden a winged steed before, but he had flown on Kilgharrah. That should help, right?
The sleek dark wings of the Pegasus beat powerfully on either side of him, and Hazel directed him to steer the creature back on to the ground. To give the winged horse a good run so he would gain momentum as he took to the skies.
Merlin landed the Pegasus upon the snowy ground and encouraged his steed into a gallop. He went faster and faster on the horse, succeeding in thwarting the Phantoms for a little while.
As he commanded the Pegasus to move upward and travel by air, Merlin felt the unwanted attentions of the Silent Phantoms. His winged horse was growing colder and began to transform into an ice statue of a Pegasus.
“The Castle is in the sky. This is the only way to get there. I need to take over,” Hazel told him.
Merlin knew what that meant. He urged Hazel to be careful, that this was a big risk to take. But his magic went forward regardless and left Merlin to go into the magical creature. The Pegasus adopted a strong golden glow across his whole body. The ice transformation was reversed, and Hazel told Merlin that she would pilot the winged horse. Merlin only needed to hold on tight.
Flying in the air, Hazel was going so fast to outrun the dreaded Phantoms that Merlin had trouble catching his breath. He had never gone this quickly either on an average horse or on Kilgharrah.
The winter wind attacked him with its coldness and he did his best to grip his magic-powered steed as Hazel made quick turns and went up and down and around when clouds were in the path.
Though the ride across the skies was thrilling, it was also slightly terrifying. Yet Merlin didn’t doubt that Hazel would insure his safety if he had lost hold. Fortunately he had succeeded in surviving the unforgettable flight without need for rescue. And Hazel’s impressive speed had done its job. The Phantoms hadn’t been able to keep up with them.
Merlin had arrived. The Castle of the Faeries was in front of them. A floating mystical castle high up in the sky. The castle structure boasted more towers and turrets than Camelot and what looked like stone painted with varying shades of purple from the palest to deepest purple. It was akin to a castle one would possibly imagine in a dream. To look upon it in front of you was to believe that such a castle was unreal. How could such a place exist?
Maybe that was why the Castle of the Faeries was located in the sky – to keep that sense of mystery about the place. And also, since the Castle floated, one couldn’t be guaranteed they’d find the castle in the same location as they’d discovered it previously.
The spell book had said that only those seeking aid from the Castle would be able to uncover the mystical place. As this was his first time here, Merlin was not without a little trepidation.
He landed his Pegasus in the gleaming white courtyard. Upon climbing off the winged horse, his riding outfit switched back to the puffed white ball gown complete with jewelry. Deed accomplished, Hazel returned inside of him.
The courtyard was empty, which should have set Merlin ill at ease; but luckily the atmosphere gave the opposite vibe. He truly felt as if he had been invited to come here.
A willowy looking woman in a purple and silver dress and with a jeweled crown upon her head approached him.
“I’ve come here to undergo the--”
She held up her hand. “Yes. I know why you are here. There is no need for an explanation,” she assured him. “I am the Queen of this Castle.”
“Hello. I’m Merlin,” he acknowledged her with a nod.
“We know you as Emrys,” she told him, her high voice echoing across the courtyard. “The greatest sorcerer of them all.”
“Yes. I go by that name too,” Merlin conceded.
She smiled softly at him. Waving her hand, the Queen beckoned him, “Come. We shall begin.”
And so Merlin went.
~ * ~
Upward. That’s where the magic was pulling him toward. But Arthur peered up into the sky, obscured by falling snow, and he was at a loss as to how to reach his destination if it was in the sky.
As if to grant his wish, a winged horse as white as the falling snow appeared before him. The horse’s eyes were a smoky white colour, which made Arthur wonder if the creature was blind.
Warily, he approached the creature and he stroked the winged horse’s white mane. “Aren’t you a beauty?” said Arthur out loud with an appreciative smile.
The magical horse’s eyes looked at him almost as if considering the King. Arthur was reassured that this winged steed was not blind at all.
“Can I?” He asked. A solid piece of pale wood appeared in front of him to act as a stepping block.
The creature stamped its front hoofs as if to say yes. The horse looked ready to go. Arthur climbed his way up on the winged steed. He hoped he would be able to manage riding a winged horse for the first time. To fly through the skies was too enticing a prospect to refuse. Either way, he needed to get to Merlin. There was nothing for it but trusting in his instinct.
The winged snow-white horse took flight after a brief galloping run. The same pull of magic guiding Arthur was upon the magical creature as well. Arthur only had to keep his grip on his winged steed as its wings beat up and down, needing little direction from Arthur regarding where to go.
Before long, Arthur set his eyes on a magnificent castle of luminous shades of purple. The magic’s pull tugged at him, informing him that he had arrived.
Merlin was in the castle.
~ * ~
Arthur had learned from the Queen that Merlin had undergone a transformation, but that he was still Merlin at heart.
A room in the castle had been made out to look like an enchanted forest. Arthur felt the magic surround him. That magic was a rather friendly feather-light touch upon him. He saw the pulsing golden glow of magic too – it encompassed the entire mystical forest. As far as Merlin’s location, he found him as a woman lying in an open glass coffin.
As he stared at Merlin – who, according to the Queen, was lying in a death-like sleep -- Arthur was lost about what to do. He hadn’t asked the Queen what exactly he should do to wake Merlin up. The Queen hadn’t told him either.
Arthur knew what he’d like to do, but after his touch being dangerous to Merlin, he wasn’t eager to kiss him – or her as it was for the moment.
He could assume that this Castle of the Faeries would protect Merlin from any bad effects Arthur’s touch could have on him. But Arthur wasn’t willing to take that risk. He had hated seeing Merlin being ill. Then to discover it was his fault – unintentional or not -- for simply touching Merlin – that hurt.
How could he even think to touch him again? What if this was all a trick and the Queen had meant for Arthur to come here and turn Merlin’s death-like sleep into true death?
Yet Arthur wanted Merlin back so badly. If he had made it this far -- and if Merlin’s letter and Freya’s words were to be believed --, then this was a part of his cure. He had to have faith that now he could save Merlin.
Maybe the cure was meant to turn his cursed touch into one of healing?
Arthur took a deep breath, and he decided that despite the risk, he would go through with it. This was the cure for Merlin, and if anything, Arthur simply had to have faith in Merlin’s plan. He loved Merlin and he couldn’t possibly let him down now. He couldn’t allow Morgana to win.
He leaned over Merlin and kissed him on the lips.
A moment later, but what felt like forever to Arthur, Merlin woke up, his blue eyes alight in pleasure as he looked upon Arthur. Merlin smiled in unabashed gratefulness and cheer.
Merlin sat up in the coffin. “Arthur, I’m so glad you came,” he told him.
“I will always find you. No matter if you barely leave me any hint as to what I’m supposed to do,” Arthur admonished him gently.
Merlin blushed, having the grace to look chagrined. “I didn’t have much time to leave a detailed letter…” he defended feebly.
Arthur nodded, not believing a word of it. “Right, Merlin,” he said wryly. “When will you return to your normal form? Your dress is a bit ridiculous.”
Merlin shrugged. “I’ve grown fond of this gown actually.”
Arthur raised his brow at him.
Merlin grinned at him cheekily. “I expect by the time I return to Camelot, I’ll be a man again. But I think I look all right as a woman, don’t you think so? Freya thought I looked pretty.”
“Then I trust Freya’s judgment,” Arthur answered smoothly. Merlin shot him a look at his non-answer. “We should make our way home. You’re cured, right? You’ll be fine now?”
“If Morgana doesn’t curse me again, then yes,” Merlin said, cautiously optimistic. “The cure was the “true love conquers all” enchantment. I needed to follow it as closely as I could. I had faith that our love for each other would allow the cure to save me.”
“True love…” Arthur mused thoughtfully. “So this proves that our shared love has the strength to defeat any curse?”
Merlin smiled softly. “Yes it does. It’s a pleasant side effect of the enchantment.”
“I like those hidden surprises magic offers,” Arthur declared. Then he lifted Merlin up into his arms, Merlin wrapping his arms around Arthur’s neck in turn. Arthur kissed him deeply on the lips. Merlin returned the kiss enthusiastically.
On their return home, they flew side by side on their respective winged horses – Merlin on his midnight steed and Arthur on his snow-white horse.
~ * ~
The next evening, Merlin – who was once again a man – returned late after a trip to see Morgana.
Arthur found Merlin sitting before the fire with Hazel in her panther form beside him. Aithusa was sleeping in the middle of Hazel’s long tail that was presently curled into a circle.
“How was it? Seeing Morgana?” Arthur asked Merlin in a mild trepidation.
Merlin turned away from the fire which he had been pensively staring at. He shrugged. “There’s not much to say. She wasn’t there. Her hovel had been burned down, possibly her own handiwork. But there was a message,” he declared quietly.
Arthur’s eyes narrowed. “What was this message?”
Merlin bit his lip. “Considering this is Morgana, it’s not too surprising. The message was written out in fire upon the ground. It said, ‘Beware the darkest night for that will be the eve of your end.’ I’m not sure if she expected only me to come by and see that message. Maybe it was meant for both of us. I don’t know about you, but I hope we don’t see her again for a long while. Though not knowing where she is now doesn’t fill me with ease,” he admitted unhappily.
“We beat her for now. That’s what matters,” Arthur sought to reassure him.
Merlin gave him a half-smile. He stroked Hazel idly behind the ears. “Ever since I altered my magic and made Hazel, I’ve felt more confident in my magical abilities. She’s a blessing to me just like you. Barring your unfortunate behavior on occasion,” he quipped, teasing him with a small smile.
Arthur sat down on Merlin’s other side. He lightly punched him on the shoulder. “You’re speaking to the King, Merlin. Choose your words carefully.”
Merlin shook his head, used to Arthur’s idle threats that meant little most of the time.
“I love you,” Merlin told him in a heartfelt tone.
And Arthur took that as a sign to kiss Merlin again, relishing in touching him without Merlin suffering for it.
As the fire in the hearth crackled steadily on, Arthur cupped his hand behind Merlin’s head and kissed him along his neck.
“I hope you’ll never be cursed like that again,” Arthur fiercely hoped.
“I won’t. I promise. It was an awful curse, and I’m just grateful I didn’t have to live with it for long. Thanks to you,” Merlin told him with a smile.
“And you too,” Arthur had to put in, smiling back at him.
In honour of their good fortune, Merlin conjured honeyed mead for the two of them to drink.
“To beating Morgana yet again,” Merlin declared.
As Arthur’s cup clinked with Merlin’s, their fingers touched and they felt a pleasant something sweep through them.
It was their love for one another.
~ * ~
The End
End notes:
This is my reasoning for choosing the name Hazel for Merlin's magic (+ some odd facts that I thought were interesting):
The hazel tree is associated with healing, wisdom, and inspiration. People can make wishes on hazelnuts. Also, hazelnuts were thrown into the fire to divine the future of a romantic relationship. (Based on “The Dark Is Rising” book series…information from here: http://www.rhymer.org.uk/dark/darkguide.html under “Trees and flowers”)
For those familiar with the “His Dark Materials” book series, I did intentionally base Hazel (aka Merlin’s magic) off the idea of daemons with the big difference being that Hazel is a manifestation of his magic, not his soul. Because of the daemon idea, that’s why Hazel is the opposite gender to Merlin.
Picture of Merlin in his enchanted form:
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I couldn't resist giving Morgana an edge -- creating a curse without an attached cure seemed like something she would go for.
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Wow Merlin looks good as a woman LOL
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LOL, thanks! That's Jennifer Connelly in her 1986 role in the film, "Labyrinth." I recently saw the movie and thought she would be a good choice for a female!Merlin. ;)
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Also it was way ahead of its time with its special effects I think.
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I love Morgana's casual menace. And dear lord, this curse, sooo evil! Arthur's helplessness is so horrible.
You know, Merlin has done a lot of badass things, but I think changing into a woman and braving a blizzard while wearing a dress from the 80s is the most badass thing of all.