"The story is you were sick." Arthur approached Tom, utterly perplexed.

"Not anymore," Tom shrugged.

"Perhaps you were suffering from some other ailment?" Arthur suggested.

"You're joking. I felt like death itself!" Tom exclaimed. "Not enough strength in me to stir the air.

"Then… what happened?"

"I don't know," the blacksmith admitted. "Suddenly, it was gone. I'm fitter than I was before."

"That's remarkable," Arthur said slowly. "Was anybody with you when all of this happened?"

"Just my daughter Gwen." Inwardly, Arthur flinched. He'd never talked much to Gwen specifically, but he knew she was Morgana's maid and friend, and Merlin was close to her. He took no pleasure in leading the knights to her home and ordering them to search. Though they found nothing, the accusation was clear. Magic.
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She was watering the flowers when Arthur led the knights to her.

"Seize her." Gwen's face changed quickly from placidity to one of alarm.

"No," she said dazedly.

"Guinevere, I am arresting you for crimes in contravention to the laws of Camelot, that you did practice enchantments." It was at that moment that Morgana walked in.

"What have I done? I haven't done anything!" Gwen cried desperately.

"What are you doing?" Morgana asked Arthur angrily.

"Her father's healed. No one else had contact with him," he said tersely.

"Oh, that's ridiculous," Morgana said dismissively. "Perhaps the illness is not always fatal?"

"I'm sorry, but I have to bring this to my father. I cannot turn a blind eye," Arthur said uncomfortably.

"No, please, listen to me! Please, I haven't done anything wrong, you have to listen to me!" Gwen said frantically. "I'm innocent; I swear! Let me go!" All this Arthur endured with a face of stone. That is, until he saw Merlin walking down the hallway towards them. He hadn't seen Guinevere yet, but-

The young prince felt an overwhelming desire to curse.

"Arthur? What's going on?" The boy took in the sight of his friend clapped in irons. "What are you doing with her?" His eyebrows drew together in confusion. "Arthur?"

"Merlin, wait for me in my chambers," Arthur ordered quietly. He could see the kid was seconds away from panicking, and that was the last thing he needed.

"But Arthur, she's innocent!" Frustrated, Arthur turned to Morgana.

"Get him out of here!" Morgana looked between the two and made a quick decision. She had to help Gwen, but if Merlin continued shouting her innocence he was going to do a lot more harm than good.

"Come on, Merlin," she said firmly, grasping his arm. Helpless, Merlin tried to get away, but Morgana was determined.

"Please, Morgana. I have to help her!" She ignored him and continued to tug him toward's Arthur's rooms.

"Merlin. I need you to stay here," she said calmly.

"But Gwen-"

"Is in enough trouble without you interfering," she interrupted smoothly. "I'm going to go in there and I'm going to speak for her, but you need to stay here if you want to help her at all. Uther would not take kindly to a servant interfering, regardless of their age." Merlin took a deep breath and nodded. He supposed it made sense, but he didn't have to like it.

"Just... Please try and help her, okay?" His usually small voice sounded much frailer than normal, and Morgana felt her heart swell.

"Of course, Merlin. I'll do my best." She hurried towards the throne room, hoping she wasn't too late.
***************************************************

"Please listen to me, I have done nothing! Please," Gwen cried dolefully. The guards dropped her haplessly to the floor before the king.

"Well done," Uther praised his son.

"Why will no one believe me?" Gwen asked hysterically. "He got better, he just recovered, I didn't do anything!"

"I believe you," Morgana stated, stepping forward. "Perhaps this is a disease that is not always fatal. Have you thought of that? Perhaps he recovered naturally."

"And of the nearly one hundred deaths, her father miraculously recovered in the night, while at death's door? I don't believe it." He stepped closer to Gwen. "Undo this enchantment. Put an end to this contagion," he said forcefully.

"I can't," she answered, desolately.

"Then I can show you no mercy."

"I am not a witch! I don't know how to stop the illness!"

"If you will not undo your sorcery, you force my hand and I must find you guilty."

"But I've told you, I-" she began.

"It is therefore my duty to pronounce judgment," he said, effectively cutting her off. "And under the circumstance, I have no choice but to sentence you to death."

"No," Gwen sobbed.

"I can only hope that when you die this evil plague dies with you." He motioned to the guards. "Take her away." The guards dragged her away, unmoved by her pitiful petitions for help.

"I know Gwen," Morgana said boldly, once again stepping forward. "She is my maidservant, not an enchantress."

"Have you ever seen an enchantress?" Morgana fell silent. "Believe me; they bear no sign, no mark. There is no sense of evil in the eye."

"I have seen the way the girl works," Morgana pleaded. "Her fingers are worn; her nails are broken. If she was a sorceress, why would she do this? Why would she kneel on a cold stone floor, morning after morning, when she could make these things happen with a snap of her fingers?" Angrily, she looked at Uther. "Like an idle king." He turned instantly.

"You have no right-"

"But you have the right to cast a judgment on-"

"I have a responsibility to take care of this kingdom!" Uther shouted, ending the 'cutting each other off' phase. "I take no pleasure in this."

"But you are sentencing the wrong person," Morgana beseeched.

"She's right, Father," Arthur said, stepping forward. "You hear the word magic and you no longer listen."

"You saw it for yourself. She used enchantments," Uther said flatly.

"Yes, maybe, but to save her dying father! That doesn't make her guilty of creating a plague. One's the act of kindness, of love!- and the other's an act of evil. I don't believe evil is in this girl's heart." Arthur took a deep breath. Arthur dared to look at Uther's face and saw something that was almost unheard of- confliction. The King was unsure of himself. Arthur waited with bated breath for his father's decision.

"Your words have not gone unheard, Arthur," Uther said slowly. Deep down, he knew executing the girl would not stop the sickness, but hadn't wanted to admit it. It was easier to condemn someone to death than to admit he was wrong. "I am giving you a grace period of three days to prove the girl's innocence. If, after that time, no cure has been found, I will be forced to order her execution. She will remain in the dungeons." Arthur wanted to protest that this wasn't fair, that his father had as good as admitted the sickness wasn't her doing and so why was he ordering her death? But he knew all too well how quickly his father's temper could flare. Playing the part of the obedient son, he bowed his head.

"Thank you, my lord." He could practically feel Morgana's glare. She was not satisfied with the way things had played out, but it was certainly better than the girl being executed immediately! He exited the throne room after the guards, whom he quietly told to make sure the girl was treated well. He noted with approval that the girl was walking of her own volition, and the guards' grips didn't look to be painful. If only he could sooth Morgana's ire...

"Arthur!" He had known the shout was coming.

"Yes?" he asked, his tone neutral.

"I cannot believe he has only delayed her execution! He knows she did not cause this blight!"

"After she was proven to have had contact with sorcery, we are lucky that she is not to be put on trial right now, Morgana."

"Don't you go defending him, Arthur Pendragon! If you-"

"I'm not defending him, Morgana. I don't agree with what he did and I don't like it, either. But we've managed to save the girl's life for now and that's all we can do at the moment," Arthur reasoned. Morgana smiled at this.

"Yes, well, I suppose I've got you to thank for that. And Merlin, of course." He gave her a weak smile.

"I am going to continue to look for a cause. Could... Could you tell Merlin?" Aside from needing to check on a few minor leads regarding the sickness, Arthur knew he couldn't tell the boy what had happened to his friend. He and Gwen were close, and the kid would need someone to go through the 'mushy stuff' with him, as Arthur himself so eloquently put it, and Morgana would do a much better job than he would.

"Of course, Arthur," she promised. "I'll talk to him for you. Just try and figure out how to stop all of this." Leaving him with what was in no means an easy task, she patted his arm before heading to the prince's chambers.
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"Why would someone use magic like that?" Merlin asked Arthur later that night. He'd seemed to have taken the news about Gwen all right- well, he wasn't crying or anything, which was about the extent that Arthur knew to judge by. He'd seemed quieter, though, morose, which was something that worried and irritated him greatly. He knew it was irrational, but now that the kid had finally shut up he actually missed his normally ceaseless chatter.

"Magic corrupts, Merlin. People use it to their own ends."

"But not all magic is bad," Merlin said softly. "I know it isn't." Arthur stood up suddenly and turned to the boy, worry and a touch of anger overtaking him. There'd be hell to pay if one of his father's men heard him say such a thing.

"You can't talk like that Merlin, that's treason!" Merlin flinched away from him and fell, hitting his head on the corner of Arthur's dresser. Arthur immediately felt guilty. What was he thinking, yelling at the kid like that? Sure, his father was being a pain, but the boy had just witnessed his closest friend imprisoned. He shouldn't take it out on him. Set to apologize, he began, "Merlin, I-" He froze. Merlin lay still on the ground.
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"Hello, young warlock," greeted a somewhat familiar voice. Merlin blinked. He appeared to be back in the dragon's cave.

"How did I get here?" he asked curiously. The dragon chuckled.

"It seems that you have passed out due to an unexpected bout of clumsiness." Merlin flushed as he remembered what had happened. "A dream was the simplest way to appear to you." The boy nodded, understanding.

"Can you help us stop this sickness?" The dragon nodded.

"Indeed I can, young warlock. This plague is caused by an enchantment, and is spread by the common water supply."

"What enchantment is it?" Merlin asked urgently.

"The disease is caused from an Afanc, which can only be defeated by the elements."

"Uh… what exactly is an Afanc?"

"It is made of earth and water. Trust the elements that are at your-" the dragon was cut off suddenly as the cave began shaking and rocks began to fall to the bottom of the cavern.

"What's happening?" asked Merlin, shouting to be heard over the clamor.

"You are waking up, young warlock. Remember-"
***************************************************************************************************

Merlin woke up and sat upright in bed, gasping for air.

"Merlin! You're awake!" Morgana exclaimed. He rubbed his head, trying to remember everything.

"What happened?"

"Apparently Arthur," here she glared, "the big bully, startled you and you fell and hit your head on the wardrobe. Does your head still hurt?" Merlin hesitated. His head did ache, but he didn't want her to think he was being a baby, complaining about the pain. "You don't need to hide it Merlin, I can see it does. Drink this." She handed him a draught that undoubtedly had come from James. He looked around and realized that he was lying on a sofa in Arhur's room.

"How did I get here?" he asked curiously. Morgana smirked.

"When you passed out, Arthur sent a servant running in to tell me to look after you while he fetched the physician." Merlin blushed a bit.

"You didn't have to-"

"Of course we did," Morgana cut him off. "We were both very worried about you."

"Arthur was probably just worried about training a new servant," Merlin joked.

"Maybe so, but he had a sense of urgency about him that I've rarely seen," Morgana said seriously.

"Well anyway, I better leave. Arthur will be wanting me to get his dinner." He gave her a grin as he got up and walked to the door- or rather, attempted to.

"Hang on a minute, Merlin. You can't just get up and run off right now!" Merlin widened his eyes incredulously.

"But why not? I'm fine!" he proclaimed, gesturing to himself.

"You just passed out, which means you need to rest before you try anything too strenuous. You're staying here for the rest of the night. Physician's orders."

"But Morgana," he whined, "when the knights get knocked out, they just throw a bucket of water on them or something. And my head wasn't even hit that hard, honest." He looked up at her with what he hoped was an innocent expression. She narrowed her eyes.

"Sorry, Merlin. I happen to know that Arthur forces all of his knights to be examined after a head injury. And anyway, the knights aren't twelve years old and in my care. You're staying here," she said firmly. He pushed his lips up into a pout, but honestly, he liked the feeling of someone looking out for him. Even if that someone was completely over-protective.