Once Upon a Camelot Curse - Chapter Nine
The impact of hitting the wall pushed all of the air out of Merlin’s lungs. He wheezed as he slid to the floor, crumpled on the cold stone. His fingers scratched at the grout and grime in between the stones, trying to grasp some sort of steady ground as his head swam. The click of Morgana’s heels echoed in the room as he watched her candlelight move away from him and begin to spread. Morgana was lighting candles throughout the room, allowing him to see more and more of the room.
A large wooden table was set up across the room from where she had thrown him. Glass jars were littered across it and he had a flash of déjà vu at the sight. Right. Gaius. Potions and…
Magic.
A cauldron squatted in the far corner and Merlin watched as Morgana lit a fire beneath the large piece of equipment. He couldn’t see anything in it, but as it began to heat, there was evidence of something inside.
“M..Morgana…” Merlin stuttered, wanting to be brave but failing quite miserably in the face of Morgana. She set her candle down on the work bench and turned, looming above him as she approached.
She smiled a liquid grin like a cat finally finding the mouse it had been stalking all afternoon.
“I saw you last night, Merlin,” Morgana purred. She crouched down next to him, tilting her head as if she were talking to a child. “At my tent.”
Merlin’s heart raced, despite already knowing that she had seen him. It had been dark, but not that dark, especially not around her tent. He remembered what had happened last night, and it had been the first night that he remembered, even vaguely and that was disturbing. But Merlin shook his head.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replied, his voice shaking. Slowly, Merlin slid his elbows beneath him, moving to rise from the floor. Morgana reached out and pushed him back down to the ground.
“Don’t lie, Merlin. I hate liars,” she scolded, her eyes flashing a poisonous green. Her nails pressed into his muscles as she poked at him. “If you weren’t at my tent, then where were you all night? No one has seen you since you left the medical tent yesterday.”
Merlin dropped the eye contact he held with Morgana, not sure how to answer. It meant she hadn’t talked to Gwaine, which meant he was safe for now. But that didn’t mean anything. If Morgana thought that Merlin was breaking whatever spell she had put on them, then everyone was in trouble.
“I… I…” he stuttered, brain blank for an answer.
“That’s what I thought,” Morgana spat, rising from her crouch and moving back towards her supply table. Her heels clicked on the stone. Merlin slowly sat up, leaning against the wall he had been thrown into earlier. “I know that you heard me last night, Merlin. I’m not an idiot.” The words were venomous coming from Morgana, even though she didn’t even bother looking at Merlin while she spoke.
It didn’t stop his blood from running cold, however.
“I don’t know what you’re--”
“Don’t lie to me!” She screamed, whirling on the spot and facing him. Her eyes flashed gold and he was slammed into the wall once more.
Pain ricocheted up his spine, forcing a groan out from between Merlin’s lips. Morgana had magic. If his visions from earlier hadn’t already confirmed what was going on, this incident did. Morgana had magic. Which meant Merlin did as well. But Morgana didn’t seem to know that.
Was it possible that he had an upper hand?
“You heard more than you were supposed to,” Morgana hissed, turning back to her worktable. Her pale fingers flashed over the bottles and jars scattered across the surface of the table. “But that doesn’t mean much, because even if you know everything, I can easily kill you and no one would know the difference come tomorrow morning!” The last part was gleeful. She was happy about being able to kill him.
This was far too real.
“How do you know that they won’t remember? How do you know whatever it is that you did to Camelot isn’t crumbling around you?” Merlin couldn’t help the words coming from his mouth, but only regretted them a little bit. Making Morgana talk would stall her enough that hopefully Gwen and Arthur would follow his instructions to try and leave the faire grounds. He couldn’t allow her to complete whatever potion she was planning on making. Even if it was a poison to shut him up and keep all of them stuck in the foreign world she had brought them to, or if it was something worse, Merlin had to keep her from finishing it.
“When they remember, they’re going to riot. They’ll come for you, regardless of what you do to me.”
Merlin wished he felt as brave as his words sounded.
Morgana laughed, her shoulders shaking as the sound echoed in the stone room. She barely paused as she measured out ingredients from the bottles. Merlin feared that she was ignoring him, until she finally spoke.
“None of it matters, Merlin,” she said, after a moment of glass clinking against a stone bowl. “None of it matters, because even if they do remember, I’ll be gone and ruling Camelot before they can even get to me.”
A glint of light caught Merlin’s eye as Morgana turned. His breath hitched in his throat as he saw a sliver of metal in her hand. She began to move away from the table, brandishing her weapon.
A knife in her hand.
A large wooden table was set up across the room from where she had thrown him. Glass jars were littered across it and he had a flash of déjà vu at the sight. Right. Gaius. Potions and…
Magic.
A cauldron squatted in the far corner and Merlin watched as Morgana lit a fire beneath the large piece of equipment. He couldn’t see anything in it, but as it began to heat, there was evidence of something inside.
“M..Morgana…” Merlin stuttered, wanting to be brave but failing quite miserably in the face of Morgana. She set her candle down on the work bench and turned, looming above him as she approached.
She smiled a liquid grin like a cat finally finding the mouse it had been stalking all afternoon.
“I saw you last night, Merlin,” Morgana purred. She crouched down next to him, tilting her head as if she were talking to a child. “At my tent.”
Merlin’s heart raced, despite already knowing that she had seen him. It had been dark, but not that dark, especially not around her tent. He remembered what had happened last night, and it had been the first night that he remembered, even vaguely and that was disturbing. But Merlin shook his head.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replied, his voice shaking. Slowly, Merlin slid his elbows beneath him, moving to rise from the floor. Morgana reached out and pushed him back down to the ground.
“Don’t lie, Merlin. I hate liars,” she scolded, her eyes flashing a poisonous green. Her nails pressed into his muscles as she poked at him. “If you weren’t at my tent, then where were you all night? No one has seen you since you left the medical tent yesterday.”
Merlin dropped the eye contact he held with Morgana, not sure how to answer. It meant she hadn’t talked to Gwaine, which meant he was safe for now. But that didn’t mean anything. If Morgana thought that Merlin was breaking whatever spell she had put on them, then everyone was in trouble.
“I… I…” he stuttered, brain blank for an answer.
“That’s what I thought,” Morgana spat, rising from her crouch and moving back towards her supply table. Her heels clicked on the stone. Merlin slowly sat up, leaning against the wall he had been thrown into earlier. “I know that you heard me last night, Merlin. I’m not an idiot.” The words were venomous coming from Morgana, even though she didn’t even bother looking at Merlin while she spoke.
It didn’t stop his blood from running cold, however.
“I don’t know what you’re--”
“Don’t lie to me!” She screamed, whirling on the spot and facing him. Her eyes flashed gold and he was slammed into the wall once more.
Pain ricocheted up his spine, forcing a groan out from between Merlin’s lips. Morgana had magic. If his visions from earlier hadn’t already confirmed what was going on, this incident did. Morgana had magic. Which meant Merlin did as well. But Morgana didn’t seem to know that.
Was it possible that he had an upper hand?
“You heard more than you were supposed to,” Morgana hissed, turning back to her worktable. Her pale fingers flashed over the bottles and jars scattered across the surface of the table. “But that doesn’t mean much, because even if you know everything, I can easily kill you and no one would know the difference come tomorrow morning!” The last part was gleeful. She was happy about being able to kill him.
This was far too real.
“How do you know that they won’t remember? How do you know whatever it is that you did to Camelot isn’t crumbling around you?” Merlin couldn’t help the words coming from his mouth, but only regretted them a little bit. Making Morgana talk would stall her enough that hopefully Gwen and Arthur would follow his instructions to try and leave the faire grounds. He couldn’t allow her to complete whatever potion she was planning on making. Even if it was a poison to shut him up and keep all of them stuck in the foreign world she had brought them to, or if it was something worse, Merlin had to keep her from finishing it.
“When they remember, they’re going to riot. They’ll come for you, regardless of what you do to me.”
Merlin wished he felt as brave as his words sounded.
Morgana laughed, her shoulders shaking as the sound echoed in the stone room. She barely paused as she measured out ingredients from the bottles. Merlin feared that she was ignoring him, until she finally spoke.
“None of it matters, Merlin,” she said, after a moment of glass clinking against a stone bowl. “None of it matters, because even if they do remember, I’ll be gone and ruling Camelot before they can even get to me.”
A glint of light caught Merlin’s eye as Morgana turned. His breath hitched in his throat as he saw a sliver of metal in her hand. She began to move away from the table, brandishing her weapon.
A knife in her hand.