Hey everyone! :)

I'm so sorry about a total lack of updates! I really am and I feel awful for making you all hang on. I completely lost inspiration and I'm struggling to focus on where to go. I could give excuses till I'm blue in the face, but I'm just going to skip that part and update. I'm still trying to find a direction in which to go with this (my creativity has made a swift exit) so I will try and figure something out asap.

Thanks everyone for reading / reviewing etc and I hope this update is okay! Thanks :)

Chapter 10

"Merlin!"

The young warlock flinched violently at the exclamation, his arms spinning backwards violently as he lost his concentration. Managing to grab onto what, it seemed, was the corner of an old table, Merlin re-captured his balance. With a heavy exhale, he tilted his head upwards in the direction of the voice, having the good grace to bear a guilty expression as he did so.

"Gaius, I know, but please..."

"We have been through this, Merlin," interrupted the physician and in a few swift, angry-sounding strides, the man was beside him. Despite himself, Merlin recoiled slightly before a surprisingly gentle grip rested around his upper arm. "You are to rest and recover until you are fit to leave my chambers. Is that understood?"

Sighing, the servant remained silent as he was idly guided to the sole bed in the room. With a forceful push, he was made to sit and, had he been able without subsequent pain, he would have rolled his eyes at the action. As it was, he settled for another sigh; this time louder to make his feelings perfectly clear.

"Stop sighing Merlin and drink this."

The familiar glass bottle was inserted into his hands and he lowered his head, imagining its shape, size and colour, the way it slimmed towards the stopper and the intricacy of the label that informed the taker of its contents. "It tastes awful, Gaius," he moaned quietly, twisting the bottle in his hand and formulating a dissatisfied expression. "My eyesight may be damaged, but my taste buds are not."

It was Gaius' turn to sigh and Merlin imagined his face; the downwards tug of the corners of his mouth while his brow crinkled, only the iconic eyebrow remaining upright. A bitter smile almost rose upon his lips and he wished deeply that he was able to see his guardian with more than just mere imagination: "The worse the taste, the better the effect."

Merlin scoffed lightly, picking at the label with his fingers. "Is that another of your proverbs, Gaius?"

"... Yes, so it would do you well to follow my advice." There is no way that's a proverb.

Sounds of the physician bustling around the room, no doubt tidying away wayward books that had been thrown around haphazardly in searches for various cures, were somewhat soothing to the sightless boy. It made him uncomfortable to be surrounded in utter silence and have no indication that there was anyone nearby. It hurt to feel so entirely alone.

"Drink it, Merlin."

Sighing loudly – loud enough to make his distaste noticed – Merlin raised the bottle to his lips. Its rim nudged his bottom lip clumsily before he guided it to its correct position, swigging it in one quick movement. The taste was beyond vile as he swallowed, instantly pulling a face and almost retching. "That is..." he paused, sticking his tongue out in an attempt to remove the foul flavour. "That is disgusting."

Without a word, Gaius swept forwards, plucking the now empty bottle from the boy's fingers. "When you are finished complaining, I ask that you lie down and rest."

"Gaius, all I've done for the past week is rest."

"Then you should be used to it by now," retorted the physician and Merlin again resisted the urge to roll his eyes; he had discovered some days earlier that the familiar action was now an agonising one to perform. "Healing takes time, Merlin, as all worthwhile things do."

"I know. It's just... I would rather be doing something, anything. Even if it meant having to endure Arthur's prattishness for hours on end, it would be better than just sitting here and thinking." Merlin lowered his head, his fingers simultaneously rising to pick at the loose threads of the bandage over his eyes.

There was a brief shuffling sound before the mattress of the bed sunk down slightly next to him, an arm rising about his shoulders to embrace him slightly. Merlin leaned into it willingly, glad for some form of comfort in his blackened abyss where no light was brave enough to venture and find him.

"Ah Merlin, I understand, but you must be patient. I will continue to search for a cure, but there may be the possibility that this is an ailment that only time can remedy."

The warlock shook his head sorrowfully, his scarred eyelids blinking behind the layer of cloth that concealed them. "That is if it can be cured."

"Merlin..."

"I'm right though, Gaius. You know as well as I do that this could be permanent."

The comforting arm tightened its grip warmly before it slipped away, the physician rising to his feet and returning to his mountainous pile of medical books. "There is nothing to say that the damage is lasting. I have already explained to you that the swelling will take time to recede and until then, I cannot fully determine how much harm has been done."

Shaking his head silently, Merlin tugged his legs upwards, resting his chin forlornly on his knees. He found it pointless to dispute this. Truly, they were both living under the blind – and he scorned the expression – hope that the main damage was purely external. He had no idea what they would do if such hope was proved to be futile.

A loud knock at the physician's door made the young servant jump and he muttered an expletive under his breath. He loathed his own involuntary reactions, making him as nervous as a rabbit that was being hunted by Arthur on one of his numerous excursions. Gaius, either oblivious or deciding not to acknowledge his ward's colourful use of language, called for the visitor to enter and the old door creaked open steadily.

"Gaius, the Lady Morgana requests your presence."

Merlin tensed visibly where he sat at the words, his head snapping upwards in the direction of the guard's voice. Distrust boiled furiously beneath his skin, setting every minute hair on edge as his thoughts trailed to the traitorous ward of Camelot; an enemy of the worst kind, having once been a friend.

"Of course, I will go to her immediately."

The door creaked again, signalling the guard's retreat and Merlin turned his head away. His body still brimmed with tension as he waited, listening to Gaius heavily close the book that he had been perusing. "You should not go."

"I must, Merlin. What explanation would I give to Uther as to why I have declined treatment to his ward?"

Merlin scoffed, doubting that such treatment was necessary. Gaius had previously informed him of what had occurred in the vaults and the collapsing of the ceiling having led to Morgana's apparent 'injury'. Still, he managed a slight smile despite himself at the image of her annoyance in having her plans foiled by falling debris.

His expression sobered immediately however. After all, Gaius had been the one to confront Morgana and, despite the collapse having nothing to do with the physician, she would undoubtedly place blame on the nearest person. "I do not trust her, Gaius."

"Neither do I, Merlin."

"No," the warlock began, tightening his grip around his bunched legs. "I do not trust her with you."

The physician seemed to pause and Merlin imagined him nodding softly. "I know. She will want revenge for her failings, but you know that she is unlikely to do so openly. I fear that she and Morgause have other plans in store for Camelot that cannot be ruined by petty revenge against an old man." Gaius approached him, setting a hand gently on his thin shoulder. "Her threats will not move me Merlin and she cannot harm me without risk of exposure."

The sound logic of the elder man's reasoning was soothing. As the hand was removed, Gaius' footsteps retreating heavily across the room, Merlin replied, "Just... be careful."

The clack of boots stilled, "Of course. Now sleep. I hope to return to find you in your bed, where you should be."

Gaius departed swiftly and Merlin, now greeted with disturbing quiet, found himself feeling entirely alone. With an air of reluctance, he swivelled in his position on the bed, dropping onto the pillow heavily. He blinked unseeingly upwards at the bandage, resisting the urge to pick at the fraying threads as he had been prone to do.

He hated rest.

He hated sleep.

Never in his wildest dreams would Merlin have thought that he would actually want to return to his post as Arthur's manservant. As it was, it was his deepest wish that he would be allowed to move about the castle and attempt to restore some form of normality to his daily life. It was true that he wasn't sure how a blind servant was supposed to function at full capacity, but he doubted it would make him any clumsier than he already was.

Or at least Arthur will not think so.

Smiling weakly to himself, Merlin allowed his eyes to close, ignoring the fact that it made no difference at all to his vision. He shifted restlessly, ears straining until the signs of Gaius returning, safe and well, granted them a reprieve.

Feigning sleep, Merlin waited.

Another item of furniture was flung across the room in what could only be construed as a juvenile strop. Watching as the priceless candlestick crashed and clattered across the room, Morgause found herself resisting the urge to roll her eyes. Why was it that she always was lumbered with childish allies? Granted, they were far easier to manipulate but it would always be a welcome change for her to alter her role as apparent mother to a group of impudent children.

"Cenred, calm yourself."

The King turned on her, breathing heavily while his deep eyes flashed with fury. She replied in kind, knowing without a doubt that any threat he offered towards her would be returned in the form of immediate action, and one that he would most definitely regret invoking. After several moments, Cenred averted his gaze, laughing darkly. "How can you expect me to be calm when our plans lie in tatters at our feet?"

The sorceress remained unmoved, fingers curling around the top of the throne she stood beside. "There will be another time." He scoffed, throwing his hands up in frustration. "We were caught off guard, I will admit. But that will not happen again."

Shaking his head, Cenred stepped towards her, leaning against the table that rested between them, "One old man, Morgause? That is what defied my army, your little traitor, and yourself? One doddery old man!"

"Gaius was a factor that none of us considered," snapped back Morgause, her fingers curling tighter around the wood of the majestic chair. "He surprised us by his defiance, but he is, as you say, nothing more than one old man."

"Yes, but he still managed to defeat your sister, Morgause. He took apart your spell with a single blow, and our plans with it."

"We underestimated him, but unless you plan on recruiting him through your continual praises, Morgana will deal with him. He is in a precarious position. He may have Uther's trust on side, but he does not hold his love, something which my beloved sister does."

Morgause smiled darkly, releasing her grasp on the chair and slinking around the table to his side. Her golden hair swung about her with each step, spiralling about her like captured rays of sunlight at the dawning of the day. The scarlet dress clung to her torso, fanning out beautifully at her feet as she drew to a stop before the King.

"What are you intending to do to him?"

The sorceress smiled, edging closer to stare up at him with deep, knowing eyes. "We will make him suffer. He will rue the day he decided to meddle in our affairs."

"You will kill the court physician of Camelot?" Cenred narrowed his eyes, a frown forming neatly along his brow. "And how do you intend to do this without drawing suspicion onto your sister?"

Shaking her head, Morgause laughed melodiously, reaching one hand to cradle the side of his face. The touch was fleeting; as cold and emotionless as the mocking affection in her gaze, posed only to please the weak minded. Cenred's lips quirked and his cheek tilted to nestle more deeply in the palm of false adoration, yearning for its non-existent warmth.

"My dear Cenred, dying is not the only way there is to suffer."

I hope you all liked it! As said previously, I'll try to figure out where to go with this (and hopefully I won't take too long in doing it!). Thanks for reading! :D

Hugs, Ami-Rose x :)