YOU ARE THE REASON
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@jessisnotnormal
Masterlist
Out of the Ashes
Completed version on Quotev
When Jada Thorburn makes a bargain with the mysterious Morgo, her life will never be the same again. Travelling back in time, she finds herself face-to-face with the legendary Merlin and Prince Arthur, who prove to be more than just the stuff of myth. But with danger around every turn and destiny pulling her newfound friends in all directions, two questions still remain; why is she here? And what is the price?
Chapter 1: Favour
Chapter 2: Lost
Chapter 3: Magic
Chapter 4: Trust
Chapter 5: Bold Street
Chapter 6: Gone
Chapter 7: Lancelot
Chapter 8: Nobility
Chapter 9: Training
Chapter 10: Test
Chapter 11: The Griffin
Chapter 12: Poetry
Chapter 13: A Remedy to Cure All Ills
Chapter 14: Choice
Chapter 15: Monster
Chapter 16: Sophia
Chapter 17: The Lake
Chapter 18: Rain
Chapter 19: Of Owls and Druid Boys
Chapter 20: The Plan
Chapter 21: Worry
Chapter 22: Escape
Chapter 23: The Rising Sun
Chapter 24: The Black Knight
Chapter 25: Tristan de Bois
Chapter 26: Dragon's Breath
Chapter 27: Hunith
Chapter 28: Crush
Chapter 29: Ealdor
Chapter 30: Hopeless
Chapter 31: Preparations
Chapter 32: The Moment of Truth
Chapter 33: Haunted
Chapter 34: Stay
Chapter 35: Nimueh
Chapter 36: The Unicorn
Chapter 37: Water
Chapter 38: Rat Stew
Chapter 39: The Isle of the Blessed
Chapter 40: Found
Chapter 41: Return
Chapter 42: Tauren
Chapter 43: The Mage Stone
Chapter 44: Realisation
Chapter 45: To Kill the King
Chapter 46: Care
Chapter 47: The Questing Beast
Chapter 48: Le Morte d'Arthur
Chapter 49: Countdown
Chapter 50: The Bargain
Chapter 51: Not Alone
Chapter 52: Goodbyes
Chapter 53: Burn
Chapter 54: Doubt
Chapter 55: Apologies
Chapter 56: Questions
Chapter 57: Delay
Chapter 58: Fire
Chapter 59: Wake
Chapter 60: Explanations
Chapter 61: Bound
Masterlist
<- Chapter 60
Merlin lay beside Jada for some time after she fell asleep, lost in worrisome thoughts. There was so much that had happened since they’d left home, so much to take in and understand and heed as they moved forward, that he couldn’t blame her for getting so overwhelmed.
She’d nearly died, first of all. That fact made something in his chest twist, a sick feeling settling in his stomach. She’d nearly died. He could have lost her, for good, with no way of bringing her back or ever undoing what had happened.
It was never going to happen again, he vowed. If he’d been quicker, smarter; if he hadn’t left his magic as a last resort, if he’d killed them all with it the first time they’d pointed an arrow at her. They were all probably dead now, anyway. What difference had his reluctance made to their fate, in the end?
Then, there was her magic. They’d finally found answers, but they’d come with a whole host of new questions and difficulties. Destiny wanted her to be a priestess, like Nimueh, but even he was feeling a strange sense of resistance to that idea.
It had never occurred to them that perhaps Jada could open the Veil and find her way home herself, but if she became a High Priestess, she would be able to do just that. But it was the thought of her becoming like Nimueh, of her following the same path that led to such anger and hatred that made Merlin uneasy. And how would she train without another priestess to guide her? What if Uther found out? She’d be executed for treason, and Merlin didn’t think he’d be able to stand by and watch while they had her hanged, or burnt at the stake, or cut her head off.
His gaze turned to her sleeping beside him, all the stress and the pain and the fear smoothed from her face for the moment. He just wanted her to be safe. Destiny already had him, did it really need to close its jaws around Jada, too?
Eventually, he got up, growing tired of the worrying and instead moving to sit beside the door. If he pulled the curtain back just a little, he could see the Druids going about their lives as the sun began to set on their camp, bathing the world in a golden glow.
He wasn’t sure how long he’d been sat there when he heard Jada stir, a soft little noise escaping her as she stretched carefully.
“All right?” he asked in a quiet voice, looking back at her now.
She gave a sigh, then nodded before turning her head to look more fully back at him. It was a moment before she spoke. “You should go back.”
Merlin frowned, dropping the curtain and moving back to her side. “I thought we already talked about this. I’m not leaving you here by yourself.”
“Your mother will be worried,” Jada pointed out. “And Gaius. And Arthur will have definitely noticed by now, too. You can’t stay here for weeks until I’m better.”
“Why not? I can’t go home for weeks and spend the whole time worrying about you.”
She smiled a little at that, but it wasn’t enough to deter her. “If you don’t go back, they’re going to start looking for you. What happens if they figure out you’re here?”
“I doubt Arthur’s first thought when I didn’t show up this morning was ‘Hm, where’s Merlin? I know; I bet he’s in a Druid camp.’”
“No, but he’ll go to Gaius and ask if he knows where you are.”
Merlin frowned. “You think Gaius will tell him the truth?”
Her eyes dropped for a moment. “I think that Gaius will be worried about you, and will do whatever he thinks is necessary to keep you safe. Look at it from his perspective; I’ve suddenly revealed some kind of power that I said I didn’t have, taken you off into the forest, and now you haven’t come back. He can’t come and look for you himself, so who can he send out to search?”
He didn’t want to agree, but Merlin recalled what Gaius had said to him just before he left, how reluctant he’d been to let him go with Jada. He’d been almost convinced Jada was leading Merlin to his death, and now with their disappearance…
“I still can’t leave you here,” he said. “Not for weeks. I’d go back and tell them I’m fine and then come back to you, but then I’d have to tell them you were injured and there’s no way Arthur would let you lie out here wounded in the forest. He’d want you to be brought back to Gaius as soon as possible, and then he’d discover you were here in a Druid camp.”
Jada thought for a moment, a small line appearing between her brows. “Could you take me back?”
Merlin gave a torn expression. “I would if I could. I’d carry you as far as possible, but… I’m not exactly the strongest. I’m not sure I could make it all the way back to Camelot with you.”
“What if you took me away from the camp then, and then went to get help? None of the Druids can take me to Camelot, and we can’t risk anyone from Camelot coming here and exposing them, but if I wasn’t near the camp when you brought Arthur or whoever back, then it wouldn’t be a problem, would it?”
Merlin considered it with a frown, but then shook his head. “I can’t leave you in the middle of nowhere while I go and get help. What if something happens?”
“Well the only other option I can think of is to get Gethin to sit with me, but if he starts going on about prophecies and religion again I might throttle him before the help even gets there.”
Despite himself, Merlin let out a laugh. “If he starts talking about religion again, I think the guards might be the least of his worries.”
He grew serious again, smoothing the hair back from her forehead with one hand. “Please have Gethin sit with you. I can’t let anything happen to you again.”
Jada snorted. “He’s a Druid, Merlin. How exactly do you think he’s going to protect me? All he can do is talk them to death.”
“The Druids have powerful magic.”
“That they don’t use for fighting.”
He gave an exasperated sigh. “Do you at least have your sword?”
Her face went blank as she looked around the room, then realised, “Ah. I dropped it.”
“You…” He frowned, squinting slightly. “You dropped it?”
“Yeah, about the time you pulled me down a hill with no warning. What was the plan there, anyway?”
Guilt twisted in his gut. “There was an overhang at the bottom. I thought we could hide in there and wait for them to go past.”
“Ah.” She was quiet a moment. “You could hide me there while you went back to Camelot.”
Merlin let out another breath, leaning his arms on his raised knees. “There has to be another way.”
“Can you think of it?”
“…No.”
“Then this is all we’ve got.”
He fell silent for a few moments, his expression setting stubbornly. At length, he spoke again, “What about using magic?”
Jada frowned. “What do you mean?”
“There has to be a spell, or something. Or-” He straightened up as the thought struck him, glancing sideways at her. “Or you could use magic…?”
His tone had made her suspicious. “I don’t know how.”
“Gethin said that your magic will heal you on its own, if it has enough energy to do so. If we could give you more energy, then your magic should be able to heal you faster.”
“I’m already under about a million blankets and there’s candles everywhere I look. The only way you could possibly generate more heat is to actually set me on fire.”
He wrinkled his nose, shaking his head. “No, not that. But there is another way Gethin mentioned.”
His heart had begun to pound as soon as he’d thought of it, and now it seemed to climb higher in his chest as the words entered his mouth, uncertain of just what exactly they might mean for him. “If I conjure a flame, you’ll be able to use that to access my magic,” he said. “Then you can use as much as you need to get better.”
Jada’s face was filled with horror, but her voice was firm. “No.”
“Jada, I can’t leave you here, and you’re not going to be able to make it back to Camelot in this state.” He softened his voice as he continued, “I don’t mind. Really. I want to help.”
“Did you not hear what Gethin said?” she hissed, glancing to the door as though she was afraid they’d be overheard. “He said it would be awful for you. He said I’d suck your magic out, and you wouldn’t be able to get me to stop.”
He gave a little smile, just a quirk at the corner of his lips. “I trust you.”
“Merlin, I don’t know what I’m doing. What if I started and didn’t know how to stop? Does magic regenerate, or would you just be left without any for the rest of your life? You really want to risk that, instead of just leaving me in the forest for a few hours?”
“I’d feel much better doing this, yes.”
If she could have got up, Merlin was sure she would have started pacing, then. “God, you are so stubborn! Fine! I’ll take Gethin with me, so you don’t have to leave me by myself. But we are not doing that. Understand?”
He released an exasperated breath, hanging his head for a moment. “Fine. But if you die doing this, I’m gonna be really annoyed you didn’t listen.”
Jada huffed a laugh. “If I die doing this, I’ll let you say ‘I told you so.’”
She wouldn’t be talked out of her plan by Merlin, and she wouldn’t be talked out of it by Gethin, either, no matter how they both tried to convince her. Jada wanted to go back to Camelot, and she wanted to go back there now.
“What if your wound opens?” Gethin asked, once they’d explained to him just what she wanted him to do.
“You stopped it from killing me once,” she answered flippantly. “We’ll just light a branch, or something.”
“I’m afraid it’s not quite that simple-” Gethin tried to protest.
“What happens if anyone comes looking for us?” she countered.
“We don’t know that they’ll find us here,” Merlin argued, standing beside Gethin with his hands on his hips.
“We don’t know that they won’t.”
She was attempting to push herself to a sitting position, but suddenly her face contorted and she let out a cry. Merlin dropped to his knees, taking her weight into his arms as quickly but as gently as he could.
“Stop, stop, stop,” he said, worry laden in his voice. “Jada, you can’t even sit on your own. There’s no way you’re going to make it back to Camelot, or even out of camp.”
“We have to go,” she ground out, though she let him lie her back down. “I’m not letting everyone else get into trouble over me.”
Merlin let out a long breath. What on earth was he supposed to do? He didn’t care so much about keeping himself out of trouble—it’d only be Arthur yelling at him, anyway—but if people did come looking for them, it was the Druids’ lives they were risking by staying. But if they left and Jada’s wound opened, then it would be her life on the line, instead.
“Please let me help you,” he said, loud enough for only her to hear.
“We can’t,” she protested, her voice strained and breathless. “I won’t.”
“You can’t make it anywhere like this.” Surely however bad the feeling was, it couldn’t be worse than the pain she was in right now. “Just let me help.”
She turned her face away from him, her eyes roving the tent for some new inspiration. Merlin could understand why she didn’t want to—if the situation had been reversed, he was sure he’d refuse, as well—but it was now the only option they had.
He could see her brow furrowing as she desperately tried to think of some other way, and the frustration in her mouth as her ideas came up empty. She had to give in.
“Maybe I’ll be better this afternoon,” she said at last, causing Merlin to let out a frustrated breath. “I’ll be stronger with some rest.”
They had to change the candles at noon. Gethin did his best to scavenge as many as he could from the other Druids, but the camp was due a supply run, and many of them had already given up their spares for Jada, so the number of lit flames inside the tent had been reduced to less than half of what it had been.
Nevertheless, Jada remained steadfast in her decision. She would be stronger in a few hours, she kept repeating. She just needed a little more time to rest. Merlin had eventually just resigned himself to her delusion.
When afternoon came, she enlisted him to help her try again. This time, she forced herself to sit upright, but her eyes were squeezed tightly shut and she was holding her breath, and Merlin could feel her fingers digging into his arms as he helped to steady her.
“Perhaps in the morning,” Gethin had said, and Jada had fought them again on that, until the effort of sitting had exhausted her so much that she hadn’t been able to keep up the pretence any longer.
Merlin had lay her back down, and she had collapsed into unconsciousness almost instantly.
It was dark out now as he watched her, wondering just what on earth they were going to do. He considered extinguishing all the candles and then using his magic to relight them anyway now that she couldn’t argue about it, but something about that seemed… wrong. She had to agree to it herself. Besides, if she didn’t know what was happening then she definitely wouldn’t be able to control it, and who knew how that would affect the whole process and Merlin’s experience of it.
He wondered what it would feel like. His magic was a part of him, and it had always felt as naturally connected to him as his blood or his muscles, or even his soul. Losing blood didn’t hurt so much—besides the initial cause of the bleeding, anyway—but he didn’t imagine that having a muscle or an organ or a vein pulled out of him would be a pleasant experience. And what about if it was more like losing his soul? Panic threatened to fill his chest at just the thought.
But Jada needed it more. If he could help her end the pain she was in, shouldn’t he do it? It was his fault she’d been wounded, after all—if he had just dealt with the bandits when they’d first tried to shoot her, then they never would have had the chance a second time. It was only right he make it up to her now, even if that meant causing himself some discomfort. Wasn’t it?
Jada stirred, turning her face towards him even before she’d opened her eyes. Merlin smiled softly as they blinked open, the dark pupils taking a few moments to focus properly on his face.
“You’re awake,” she whispered, a wrinkle appearing between her brows. “What time is it?”
“Late,” Merlin replied in a low voice. “You should rest.”
She was quiet a moment. Then, “Do you really think it’s the only way?”
He pressed his lips together, looking from one eye to the other. Eventually, he gave a nod.
Jada let out a rough breath. “I just don’t want to hurt you.”
“I don’t mind,” he said, as softly as he could.
“I do.”
She turned her face back towards the ceiling, but after half a moment her mouth contorted and her eyes welled up. Merlin scooted forward without a thought, cradling her head against his chest.
“God, I’m so sick of crying,” she said, trying for a watery laugh. “I swear at home everybody thinks I’m emotionally stunted, or something. I hardly ever cry. But it feels like that’s all I’ve done since I got here.”
“You’ve been through a lot,” Merlin murmured. “I just want to try and make things easier for you. To help you.”
She sniffled, turning her face into him, and he felt her arm come up around his back. “It just sounds horrible. How can you want me to do that?”
“Because I care about you, and I don’t want to see you in pain when I know I can do something to help.”
Another sniff, while her arms squeezed him tighter for a moment. “I wish you had some kind of self-preservation instinct,” she mumbled into his chest.
Merlin laughed, leaning back a little to look down at her. “I’ve made it this far, haven’t I?”
Jada’s smile was weak, and it lasted for barely a second before she hid her face in his tunic again. After a moment, she asked, “How would we even do it, anyway?”
“I’ll cast a spell to make a flame. You didn’t need to do anything to absorb the energy of the others, so I think your magic should just start absorbing mine on its own.”
“And how do I make it stop?”
“I…” he faltered, uncertainty creeping into his bones. “I don’t know.”
“You’ll have to put the flame out, right? But Gethin said you wouldn’t be able to control how much I took. What if you can’t stop it?”
“Then…” He tried for a reassuring smile. “You’ll have to help me.”
“Merlin-”
“We won’t know until we try. If it doesn’t work, then... we’ll know for next time.”
Jada’s mouth had set into almost a pout, stubborn and determined. “If it hurts you, we stop. All right?”
“Sure.”
“Promise me.” Her tone made him pause, her eyes holding his for a long moment and forcing him to see the fear held within them.
At length, he nodded, serious now. “I promise.”
She still didn’t like it—he could see by the unhappy twist her lips made—but she didn’t try to argue any further. Instead, she gave a small, almost imperceptible nod.
Now Merlin felt his heart begin to drum again as all the worries and thoughts from earlier came flooding back. But he trusted Jada, trusted her implicitly, and that seemed to make all his fears melt away.
A strange part of him wanted to laugh at the situation they had found themselves in, when just a few days ago they had been so focused on whether he could trust Jada. It seemed absurd now, because of course he could. Of course he was safe beside her; of course she would do him no wrong.
His fingers trembled slightly as he held them out, and whispered, “Forbearne.”
The orange light illuminated her face, the reflection of it flickering against the dark charcoal of her eyes. He wondered what it felt like to her, to look into his palm and know that that heat could cure her of her pain. He wondered if she could feel the surge of power that he felt, like lightning crackling under his skin, and whether that was what had captivated her attention so.
He wasn’t feeling anything particularly terrible, though surely she would have begun to absorb the energy from the flame already. Perhaps the pull on his magic was a little stronger, a little harder to resist, but perhaps that was just his imagination.
Jada seemed completely entranced by the flame, her eyes transfixed on it without wavering, but slowly one of her hands had begun to rise. She reached it out carefully, as though it was possible to break the flame somehow and erase its existence entirely, but Merlin didn’t think to stop her.
It was only as her fingertips entered the flame, the orange tongues leaving no mark on her skin, that a rushed doubt entered his mind—but then his back was arching, his lungs sucking in a breath as his magic was dragged from him. He struggled against the pull, his feet kicking uselessly, but it was too strong for him to get away from.
Images began to flash before his eyes, too fast and unclear for him to decipher, but then there was the unmistakeable feeling of something hitting him in the gut, piercing down, down through his skin and embedding itself deep into his flesh.
He heard himself give a choked cry, his hands tightening their grip on whatever it was they had hold of as the pain blossomed throughout his body and brought tears stinging to his eyes.
Then, all at once, the pain faded. The pull ceased, and the images vanished, allowing his gaze to focus on the worry-stricken face that filled his vision.
“Merlin?” Jada called, and it must have been her hands on either side of his face that shook him slightly. “Merlin?!”
Merlin blinked slowly, chest heaving. He couldn’t think, could barely feel his own body, and he wasn’t entirely convinced that the tent wasn’t spinning around them. In a daze, he lifted a hand to her face, wanting to smooth away the worry and stop the tears that threatened to spill.
Jada dove at him, pulling him tight against her and pressing her face into the crook of his neck. “I’m sorry! I’msorryI’msorryI’msorry! I didn’t mean to hurt you! Oh, God, Merlin- Are you all right? Tell me you’re all right.”
She pulled back sharply, looking into his face again, but Merlin’s brain was beginning to catch up at last. “’M okay,” he said, though it sounded mumbled and confused, even to his ears.
A new sensation had taken his attention, however, and he traced his fingertips tentatively over her skin, across her cheek and down the line of her jugular. He could… feel his magic in her veins, pumping through her body, becoming a part of her. It was dizzying and unnerving and he had to shut his eyes for a minute because there was so much—so much—to feel.
“Jada? Can you lie down for a minute?” he heard himself say, followed by the definitely crazy-sounding, “My magic needs to lie down for a minute, if you wouldn’t mind.”
Nevertheless, she did as he asked, flumping down on the ground beside him and leaving practically no room between them. Not that Merlin minded; that was… that was his magic, and his magic was supposed to stay inside his body, and having it as close as physically possible seemed to negate the terrifying feeling of it being outside his body somewhat.
“Are you feeling it, too?” Jada asked in a low, awestruck voice.
Merlin gave a slightly hysterical laugh. “Define ‘it’, exactly.”
She breathed a laugh in response. “Everything. I can… I can feel you. Right… here. I don’t know how to explain it.”
He felt her take his hand, and opened his eyes to watch her press it to the spot just above her heart. Merlin swore he could feel his magic bubbling just under the surface of her skin, thrumming around her heart and making a home there.
He hoped this was safe.
“Does it always feel like this?” she asked after a moment.
“Like this?” he laughed, the daze beginning to make way for a strange giddiness, now. “No.”
Jada huffed another laugh. “I feel like I could tear cities down.”
The corner of his lips lifted. “It’s a bit excited right now.”
“How do you not go mad? I feel like if I had this much power all the time, sooner or later I’d want to uproot a mountain or two, just to see if I could.”
A fondness warmed his chest at her awe. “You get used to it.”
There was definitely a danger in this practise, he decided, as he saw her eyes slide to his mouth. It felt as though they were already intertwined, their souls curling round one another without restraint or reservation. He could feel her through his magic, feel her in ways that were almost impossible for him to comprehend. He could feel her mind, her soul, her magic as it merged with his in her veins. What difference could feeling her body against him possibly make?
Gods, he wanted to kiss her. He wanted to kiss her as though he would die without it. He wanted to kiss her as though that was all he intended to do for the rest of his life, to kiss her and kiss her and kiss her and kiss-
“Does it hurt?” Her voice was hoarse, her face only inches from his own, but it wasn’t physically that he felt her pull away.
“Hurt?” he repeated, confused.
“Your magic,” she clarified, and Merlin felt the sadness that swelled in her chest. “You were- I thought-”
“Hey,” he said softly, cupping her face with one hand and brushing a thumb along her jaw. “I’m okay. It didn’t hurt.”
She gave a shaky laugh, despite the furrow that had appeared between her brows. “I can feel when you’re lying, you know.”
“Ah.”
Another laugh. “You ass.”
Merlin couldn’t help his smile. “I am all right though, really. The only part that hurt was…”
He frowned, reaching a hand down unthinkingly to touch the spot where he’d been hit. It was on his right side, just next to his hip, he remembered, but as his fingers probed the spot they found nothing out of the ordinary.
“Show me your wound,” he said suddenly as he looked back up.
Jada obliged him, lifting her tunic and shimmying her trousers down to her hips, just enough to allow her to unwrap the bandages. Pulling the gauze off revealed a puckered pink patch of skin where her wound had been, and Merlin had to run a thumb over it to prove that his eyes were not deceiving him.
Jada flinched and stiffened, and Merlin felt his face and neck burst into flame as he realised what he’d done.
“Sorry,” he said quickly, drawing his hand away.
“It’s okay,” Jada replied, though he thought he heard a timid note in her voice. “I just wasn’t expecting it. But it’s much better now, and it feels better, too,” she continued with more confidence, “So we can go home.”
Merlin gave a laugh. “What, right now? In the middle of the night?”
She was already twisting to push herself up, determined to get straight to her feet. Merlin dropped his joking in a panic, trying to scramble to his feet himself and help steady her as she wobbled. “Hey, hey, easy.”
Even as he said it, he felt his own knees give way, a sharp pain jolting through them as they crashed against the floor.
“Merlin!” Jada cried, dropping down beside him and hovering over him with that worried look again, as he tried to make sense of just how exactly he’d ended up looking at the tent ceiling again.
“Are you okay?” she asked, smoothing the hair back from his forehead, and maybe Merlin didn’t mind the pain in his knees so much, after all.
“I don’t know what happened,” he replied.
“Do you think it’s because of the magic?”
“Possibly. I’m sure I’ll be all right with some rest.” He hadn’t noticed just how exhausted he felt after such an intense experience. Now, all his limbs seemed to be made of lead, and if he just shut his eyes, he was sure he’d be asleep in an instant.
“Do you think that’s safe?” Jada asked, worry still laden in her voice.
He was already drifting off, but hummed in response. “Probably.”
“Merlin.” The shaking roused him only slightly.
“Stay with me,” he mumbled.
There was a beat, and then he felt Jada lie down beside him. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Chapter 62 ->
Chapter 60: Explanations
Masterlist
<- Chapter 59
“At the very beginning of time, long before we began to record things in books and manuscripts, the world was made from four elements; earth, air, water, and fire,” Gethin began.
Jada and Merlin had been given food and drink to share between them, though Merlin had had to help Jada prop herself up enough to consume it more comfortably, and now they were ready to listen to Gethin’s explanation of everything.
“Soon, however, the elements began to lose their balance,” he continued. “Fires were devastating the land, oceans were rising up to swallow forests, and winds brought devastation from the highest mountain tops to the lowest valleys. The Gods had other duties at that time, so they created new beings and tasked them with keeping each element under control, and thus the Elementals were born.
“When humans began to appear, the Elementals would mingle with them for a time, taking forms that resembled our own until the lines between Elemental and human became… diminished. They retained much of their former powers, but it became less instinctive, and as the generations passed, their talents appeared later and later in their lives. Where once an Elemental might have been born without a material body at all, they were now beginning to be born the same as humans, and remained that way for years, until they had learnt enough about their abilities to fade into their spirit forms.”
“Um,” Jada cut in. “I’m not sure I like the sound of that. What do you mean, fade? And how many years, exactly?” If she really was an Elemental, as both Gethin and Merlin seemed to suspect, then fading into a ghostly existence in a few years’ time seemed more than a little terrifying.
“Their bodies grew less solid, from what I have heard,” Gethin answered. “I’ve never seen it myself, so I can only tell you what others have said, but it seems that over time their magic seems to grow more and more prominent in their features. The eyes of an Earthborn will turn green, for example, the body of an Airborn more transparent.”
“And… a Fireborn?”
“Their blood begins to run hotter, their eyes turn red. Some say that they have seen wisps of smoke rising up from their presence, and that their touch leaves scorch marks in the shape of their hand.”
That sounded… awful. She didn’t want to burn the people she touched, and she certainly didn’t want to look like some flaming demon right before she lost her body for good.
“They say it takes decades,” Gethin added, seeming to notice the horrified look on Jada’s face. “Maybe even centuries. Some believe that it is the Elemental themselves who decides when to fade.”
“And you think I’m one?” she asked, a little curtly. “How can we know for definite?”
Gethin glanced at Merlin for a quick second, before turning his attention back to her. “Well, the excess heat in this tent appeared to improve your healing, which suggests that you do draw your power from fire. But there are a few other, more… definitive ways.”
“What are they?”
“Elementals cannot be harmed by the element they were born of. For example, if you are born of fire, then fire cannot harm you in any of its incarnations.”
Jada looked to Merlin for a moment, though his face was hard and set. “So, what are you gonna do?” she asked Gethin apprehensively. “Set me on fire?”
He laughed, shaking his head. “No, I don’t think that will be necessary. Just one hand will probably do the trick.”
She felt her chest tighten as she sucked in a breath, but then she gave him a single nod.
Gethin rose, turning to toss some of his sticks onto the burnt-out fire and work on relighting it.
“Jada, this is ridiculous,” Merlin whispered, turning to her suddenly. “What are you doing?”
“I need to know,” she answered.
“If you’re still trying to prove yourself to me and Gaius, you don’t need to. I’ll tell him you’re telling the truth. You don’t need to prove this.”
“Nimueh’s fire didn’t even leave a mark on me. I should have died, and it didn’t even leave a mark.”
“Then take that as your proof!”
“If that’s your proof I’m an Elemental, what do I have to fear from this little campfire?”
He didn’t answer, but she could still see the drive in his eyes.
“If you really believe that this is what I am, then I’ll be fine,” she said softly, reaching for his hand and giving a reassuring squeeze.
“And what if you’re not?”
She laughed. “Then I’ll let you say ‘I told you so’.”
“Jada-”
“It’s ready for you,” Gethin interrupted from across the space.
Jada looked up into Merlin’s face. “Help me up?”
Merlin looked back at her for a moment, his brows still set in frustration, but at last he let out a breath and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Despite his irritation, he was still careful as he moved her into a sitting position, and kept his arm around her as Gethin approached with a burning branch.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Gethin asked.
Jada nodded, and he held the flaming end towards her. Merlin tensed as she reached her hand out, but that only made her pause for a brief moment to glance at him. She hoped her smile was reassuring, though it didn’t relax his features any, but before his worry could change her mind she grabbed the blazing end of the stick and held on tight.
Merlin gasped, his free hand shooting up as if to yank hers away from the flame, but he stopped it halfway and let it hover.
Jada had been expecting pain—she’d heard people talk about burning themselves on hot pans, boiling water, or food that they were just too impatient to let cool, but now that she was thinking about it, she couldn’t remember an instance where her knowledge of being burnt had come from a first-hand experience.
The fire felt warm and comforting, and if she shut her eyes she could almost imagine that she felt it flowing into her skin, up through her arm, and down to the wound in her belly. She could feel it swirling there, pulling her back together again, and when she opened her eyes and looked down, she almost expected to see the wound glowing through her clothes.
It didn’t glow, and when she took her hand away from the flames to press on it, the same searing pain still shot through her.
Merlin grabbed her hand at her gasp, though he didn’t pull it away, only shooting her a concerned, questioning look.
“And that is why you could not use magic to light the candles,” Gethin said to him, earning a confused look from Jada.
“What do you mean?” Merlin asked, before she could.
“When you conjure anything out of thin air, whether it be wind, light, or, in this case, a fire, that fire uses some of your energy to sustain itself. For the most part it’s barely noticeable, particularly for a sorcerer of your talents. But when a Fire Elemental uses the energy of that fire to feed their own magic, it means that what they are really feeding off is your magic, draining your energy.”
“I wouldn’t have minded,” Merlin said quietly. Jada looked at him sharply.
“It is easy to say that now,” Gethin replied. “But it is not the same as having your energy drained slightly by your own spell. Imagine your magic being pulled out of you, with no way for you to control it, no way for you to decide that you’ve given enough. She would have drained you until her own magic was satisfied, and who can know how much of your power would have been taken?”
“I wouldn’t,” Jada breathed, horrified.
“You were unconscious. You wouldn’t have even known you were doing it.”
I’m a monster, she thought suddenly. A soul-sucking, fire-absorbing, destructive monster. Maybe there was a reason everyone was wary of her, after all.
“You mentioned a prophecy,” she said, remembering all that the dragon had said about her destiny to hurt Merlin. “Does it involve me?”
Gethin smiled. “I believe it does. After all, it was Emrys who brought you to us, as was foretold.”
Jada frowned. “Who is this ‘Emrys’?”
Beside her, Merlin gave an awkward laugh. “Er, that would be me.”
She turned to him, her voice laden with surprise. “You?”
“That’s the name the Druids seem to know me by.”
“What does it mean?” she asked, glancing between them both.
“It means that he is the one destined to free magic once more,” Gethin said. “Once the Once and Future King ascends to the throne.”
“Apparently, that’s Arthur,” Merlin explained.
“I remember that bit,” Jada replied. “But what does that have to do with me, and why is it important that you brought me here?”
“Because that means that you are the one,” Gethin answered for him. “The one whom the Goddess will call upon to serve her in Albion’s darkest hour, and who will help deliver Her salvation.”
“The Goddess,” Jada repeated. “You were talking about the Gods before, which Goddess are you talking about, exactly.”
Gethin smiled. “Usually when people refer to the Goddess, they mean the Triple Goddess.”
“Right. Is now a bad time to mention I’m Catholic?”
“Catholic?” He gave a frown, glancing from her to Merlin. “This is… a hindrance.”
Jada didn’t know what else to say other than, “…Sorry?”
“But… you have magic…” Gethin frowned.
Now it was her turn to glance at Merlin, though he didn’t look to be offering any clarification. “Should I not have?” she asked, turning her eyes back to Gethin.
“I’m not well-versed in Catholic teachings, but I was under the belief that they considered sorcery an evil.”
Jada shifted uncomfortably, glancing between them again before lowering her eyes. “I dunno; I’m not exactly that religious. I’ve only been to church a couple of times. They say a lot of stuff I don’t agree with.”
“I see,” Gethin said. Merlin was simply looking at her, his face unreadable.
Suddenly, she felt a surge of annoyance break through the shame. “Hey, listen, I have just as much right to believe what I want as you two do. One of your priestesses attacked us; just because a few supposedly important people say some stuff, doesn’t mean we all agree with it.”
One corner of Merlin’s mouth had lifted just slightly, but Gethin turned sharply to look between them. “You were attacked by one of the priestesses?” he repeated. “Which one?”
Merlin’s smile faded, his eyes growing serious. “Nimueh. She won’t be attacking us again.”
Gethin took a moment to process this, his face unchanging.
Jada, however, furrowed her brows. “Are there more?”
He turned to her slowly, a frown now tainting his features. “They don’t deal with us much, any more. I had heard that a few of them escaped the initial purge, but after that they became whispers, and some were hunted down and executed in the years following. I do not know how many remain, if any at all.”
The faint spark of hope in her chest faded, but Gethin was continuing, his eyes now locking with hers. “But, if you were to become one-”
“Me?” Jada interrupted.
He half-shrugged. “It does appear that you’ve been chosen.”
“Chosen?” she repeated, incredulous. “Because I was dying, and Mer-”
She cut herself off, suddenly unsure whether it was safe to refer to him by his real name or not. What was it they’d called him again? God, she wasn’t well enough for this…
“Destiny works in unusual ways,” Gethin said, cryptically. “But you have not been chosen because you happened to come here with Emrys.”—Emrys, that was it! She’d have to remember that—“You have been chosen long before that. The Goddess has known you since the day of your birth, and she has raised you for this very purpose.”
“And yet, she sent me to Catholic school,” Jada sniped. “Seems a little contradictory.”
“So, what are you saying?” Merlin asked, breaking his long silence. “What exactly is she destined to do?”
Apparently seeing that Merlin was going to be much more cooperative than Jada, Gethin turned his attention now to him. “To learn the ways of the Old Religion, so that she may become a High Priestess and save this land from its darkest peril.”
“I’ve been told about her destiny before,” Merlin said, making Jada frown. “But they said that Jada was destined to bring destruction and suffering to Camelot.”
Ah, the dragon. She’d almost forgotten about that.
“Maybe I’m Camelot’s greatest threat and its saviour,” she griped. “If I bring destruction and then stop myself, do you think they’d call me a hero?”
Merlin didn’t laugh—didn’t pay much attention to her bitter comments, really.
Gethin didn’t appear amused, either. “Who told you these things?”
“I can’t say,” Merlin replied after a hesitation.
“If I may, you don’t seem to be heeding their warnings.”
“I…” He glanced at Jada, his eyes full of something she couldn’t read, before looking away again. “No. Their warnings mean nothing to me.”
There was a bitterness in the way he said it that made Jada study him more closely. His jaw was taught, his eyes stormy, and two little creases had appeared between his brows—but there was also a hurt to him, a wounded look that she’d only seen him wear after Arthur made a comment about the evil of sorcery. Something had happened between him and the dragon.
“You have no need to fear, then,” Gethin said. “There is no truth to them. She will journey to Avalon and become a priestess, and work beside you to protect the kingdom.”
“I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” She heard her voice crack in the middle, but a sickening feeling had begun to churn in the pit of her stomach, and all she wanted was for Gethin to shut up and leave her alone.
She could feel their attention turn to her, but she was staring at the heap of blankets still tangled around her legs and refusing to look up at either one of them.
“Of course,” Gethin said, after a long moment. “You still need to rest. It will be weeks before you are well enough to leave; we can talk more later.”
“Weeks?” she repeated, looking up now as he rose to his feet.
He paused, looking back. “Well, yes. You won’t be able to make the journey until your wound is much better than it is now. You wouldn’t want to risk it opening up again while you travel, would you?”
Her whole body seemed to sink, and there must have been some kind of hopelessness written on her face when she turned to Merlin, as he cut in for her. “We’ll talk about that another time,” he told Gethin. “Right now, Jada needs to rest.”
“Of course,” Gethin replied, nodding once before ducking out of the tent.
A moment passed in silence, before Jada’s rough voice broke it. “You said it would only be a few days.”
“I’m not a physician,” Merlin replied. “I was only guessing.”
She let out a breath, bringing her knees up to bury her face in. Her middle sent out a sharp pain as she moved, making her gasp and drop her legs again, before she burst into tears.
Merlin was at her side in just a few seconds, though Jada had covered her face with her hands and sleeves. Still, she felt his hand on her back, his chest against her shoulder, and something in her—if only a small something—began to calm.
“I don’t want to be a priestess,” she sobbed. “I don’t want to bring death and destruction. I just-” She tried to raise her knees again without thinking, only to let out a cry as the pain shot through her again. Somehow, she fell into Merlin’s chest, sobbing harder.
Merlin’s arms wrapped around her without hesitation, his cheek turning to rest against the top of her head. “It’s all right,” he murmured. “It’s all right. Just breathe. You don’t have to think about any of that, all right? Just breathe and focus on me.”
She noticed his hand in her hair as she began to calm down, fingertips rubbing circles against her scalp, and the way he was rocking from side to side as he held her. She burrowed her face further into his shirt, clinging to it with one hand, and drew a few more calming, hiccupping breaths.
The first words on her tongue once she’d gathered herself enough to speak were ‘I love you’, but she knew she couldn’t say them. So she twisted in his arms, mindful not to knock her wound, and wrapped him into a proper hug with a deep sigh.
Eventually, she remembered other words, so told him, “Thank you.”
He pulled back with the softest little smile, moving his hands first to her shoulders, then to her face to brush the tears off her cheeks with his thumbs.
“I know what it’s like,” he said, “To have complete strangers planning out your life for you. It’s suffocating. Feels like you can’t move, can’t breathe. Everything suddenly seems to be falling on top of you at once.”
Jada gave a watery smile. “I had no idea this was how you felt all the time. I’m sorry.”
She’d have thought her tears were gone by now, but Merlin’s thumbs had remained, continuing to brush lightly over her cheeks. He gave a smile in response, but when one thumb grazed over the edge of her lip, the smile vanished, his hands dropping.
“You should rest,” he said.
She was exhausted. The talking would probably have done that anyway, but the nature of the conversation had just been so overwhelming that Jada felt as though every last ounce of her energy had been drained away.
She lifted her gaze from Merlin’s mouth to his eyes, her own pleading. “Stay with me?”
He helped her lie back down, pulling the blankets back over the top of her, before lying on his side beside her. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Chapter 61 ->
The key to writing good fanfiction is to harbor a deeply humiliating desire, and the trick there is that even pretty basic and societally-accepted desires like “being held” and “being wanted” CAN and WILL be humiliating if they’re intense enough. Become so estranged from human connection that the idea of someone playing with your hair fills you with yearning so deep you feel like you’re going to throw up and you will write some banger fanfiction. It might have some other consequences too but idrk about that.
Chapter 59: Wake
Masterlist
<- Chapter 58
She was under ice. She was under ice, and she was drowning.
Jada clawed at the frozen surface of the water, bashing it, hitting with all her strength, but it was no use. The ice was too thick, her efforts barely making a scratch on it, and her lungs were burning, burning, burning…
I need heat, she found herself thinking. She needed warmth, or she was going to freeze to death. But there was no heat to be found underneath an arctic lake, and the more she fought, the more the water seemed to steal her warmth away. She was using too much energy.
She stopped her frantic movements for a moment, letting herself float beneath the ice. She couldn’t leave Merlin. She’d promised him she wasn’t going to die. There was no way she was going to give in, now.
If only she had some way of melting the ice, she thought as she set her palms against it, then she could make it to the surface. She just needed some heat.
Her hands began to sink into the layer of ice, leaving palm-sized imprints when she pulled them away again. Of course, she thought to herself. Heat! Jada set her hands back against the ceiling, pushing them further into it, and all at once she seemed to be moving upwards, speeding towards the surface, until the last layer shattered above her head and the sunlight reflecting off the snowy tundra filled her vision with a blinding white light.
“Jada?”
She knew the voice before she’d even opened her eyes, even before her brain had woken enough to remember what had happened. It was the first thing she noticed.
“Merlin.” It came out as barely a breath, her lips hardly managing to form the sounds, but then she heard a relieved huff and felt a gentle hand stroking the top of her hair.
“That’s right. It’s me. I’m here.”
She tried to force her eyes open but her lids were just so heavy that it took what felt like a long time to budge them. Merlin’s face was hovering above her—the darkened background was unfamiliar, but that didn’t matter, Jada thought. Merlin was there, and everything was going to be all right.
“Rest,” he whispered. “Everything’s going to be all right.”
Jada didn’t have the energy to argue—not that she wanted to—and so let her eyes fall closed again. “Stay.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” The softness of his voice and his hand on her hair was already lulling her towards unconsciousness. “I’m staying right here.”
Jada sighed and tried to say something more, but she was already too far gone. The last thing she remembered was Merlin’s hand in her hair.
She woke again during the night, though this time her brain was a lot less fuzzy and warm. Her eyes opened more easily to reveal the unfamiliar tent ceiling, and immediately Jada went into a panic.
“Merlin?!” she called, bolting upright despite the mountain of blankets she’d been swaddled in. Pain exploded across her abdomen and she let out a cry, wrapping her arms around her stomach in hurt and confusion.
“I’m here,” a groggy voice beside her said, and then warm hands were on her shoulders and easing her back down. “I’m here. Lie down. That’s it.”
He’d been lying beside her, sleeping from the looks of his mussed hair and bleary eyes, though there was no bedroll or blanket; just a single, lonely-looking pillow.
“Where are we?” she asked, voice still fearful.
Merlin had lain down next to her again, and he gave her a soft, sleepy smile. “With the Druids.”
“What happened?”
The smile faded. “You got shot. A Druid named Gethin found us and brought us here. He’s treated your wound, but now you need to rest and keep warm.”
That explained the pain. But there was one problem. “I’m cold.”
Merlin lifted his head, brows pinching. “You are?”
He reached out and touched a hand to her cheek, and his brows knitted more. “You are,” he said, a note of panic in his voice. He pushed himself unsteadily to his feet. “Hang on, I’ll find something else to warm you up. Gethin said something about…”
It was only as she watched him stumble about that Jada noticed their surroundings. All around them countless candles had been placed, some burning, but others sitting without a flame. There was a smouldering fire in the corner and a hole for the smoke had been slashed into the tent just above it, while over the embers themselves there sat some kind of metal pot.
“I shouldn’t have fallen asleep,” Merlin was saying to himself. “Half the candles are out, the fire’s got no fuel, and- and-”
He took a shaky breath, then looked back over to Jada. In a sudden rush, he was shrugging his jacket off and crossing back over to her. “Here, put this on for now until I can get all the fires going again.”
“Merlin, you’re going to freeze,” Jada protested, though her lips felt numb and clumsy. If she was as cold as she was with all those blankets on, then he was certainly going to turn as blue as his thin tunic if he didn’t have even a jacket to keep him warm.
“I’ll be fine, I promise,” he replied, kneeling down beside her. “It’s actually not really very cold. You just feel cold because you’re injured, Gethin says. He says you need the heat from the fires to stay- to heal your injury, but if you can’t get enough then you start to get colder, and colder, and… and then…”
He held the jacket out, his expression desperate. “Please, Jada. Please let me look after you.”
There was something in his face that stopped her fighting anymore, something frantic and pained and not to be taken lightly. After a moment she gave a nod, and then he was pulling back the blankets just enough to wrap his jacket over her front and tucking it tightly around her. Without a moment’s hesitation, he was pulling off his scarf, too, before gently folding it around her neck and pulling the rest of the blankets back over her.
“Now,” he said, straightening up and heading back over to the fire, “Gethin said something about putting a bag of hot rocks under your blankets, but I’ll have to get the fire going again first before I can heat any rocks up. And the fire needs fuel…”
“Don’t go,” Jada pleaded. “Stay here with me. Please.”
He looked back at her, his expression softening for a moment. Then, he smiled. “I have fuel here. Gethin got a heap of it when we first started the fire, in case you used it up faster than we expected.”
“S’not me,” Jada mumbled, nuzzling further into the warmth of her thousand layers. “’M not doin’ anything.”
She heard Merlin’s quiet laugh, followed by his soft voice. “Get some more sleep. I’ll take care of everything.”
Jada didn’t have to be told twice.
When she next awoke, morning had broken outside the tent. Birds were singing in the forest outside, and some distance away voices could be heard conversing with one another, but inside there was the low crackle of a fire and soft, slow breathing from just beside her.
Merlin was still asleep when Jada looked to him, his expression smoothed and his lips parted. She wanted to reach out and touch him, to brush back the wisp of hair that curled up onto his cheekbone, but thought better of it. He’d earnt the right to sleep in, so she settled her head back atop her pillow and let her mind drift.
She remembered waking and speaking with Merlin during the night, but what had been said between them Jada couldn’t recall in the slightest. Something about fires, and a Druid, and her being shot.
Being shot she did remember. She remembered the shock, and the numbness, and then the pain that was still lingering as an incessant sting even now. She remembered looking up at Merlin and seeing the pain in his face, the tears in his eyes, and she remembered the way he’d almost resigned himself to losing her, though he’d tried to cover it up.
She must have cut it pretty close, then, Jada thought with a twist of worry in her gut. How close had she come to simply not waking up? To never seeing the inside of that tent, never feeling the sun return for another morning, never feeling the warmth of Merlin’s presence near her ever again? It could all have ended for her so easily, and there had been nothing at all that she could have done about it.
Beside her, Merlin began to stir; his breath quickening first, then followed by a stretch that accompanied the tiniest groan. He rolled onto his belly, eyes still shut, and rested his head on his arms, but after a few moments he gave a sigh and began to blink himself back to consciousness.
Jada couldn’t help her smile. “Morning.”
Merlin stretched again, then returned the smile sleepily. “Morning.”
It took a few more moments, but then his head shot up, his eyes losing their bleariness now. “You’re awake! I mean, properly awake!” His brows puckered in concern. “How do you feel?”
Jada mentally assessed herself, starting with the acute pain in her abdomen and then broadening her attention to examine all her other aches and pains throughout her body. She felt bruised and achy all over, and moving even an inch seemed the least appealing thing to her right now, but at least she was alive. Even if her muscles did feel like she’d been drop-kicked down a mountain.
“It’s… not the best I’ve ever felt,” she said, trying for humour before giving a grimace. “How bad is it?”
Merlin exhaled, propping himself up into a sitting position with one hand. “It’s…” Another exhale, before he gave up and reached his free hand out to ease her blankets back. His voice was gentle when he spoke again; “Here, I’ll show you.”
Jada tried to prop herself up with her elbows, but the clenching of her stomach muscles sent a searing pain through her and she collapsed back with a hiss and a choked sob.
Somehow, Merlin had managed to get an arm around her shoulders before she fell, and softened the blow as she landed back on the ground. “Easy,” he soothed. “I’ve got you. Just take it easy.”
Jada wanted to cry as he helped her back up—though whether it was from pain or gratitude or at her own helplessness, she couldn’t tell. Everything was far too overwhelming, and all she wanted to do was go back to sleep until it was over.
She grunted and panted as they fought to get her upright, but the effort from that alone left her trembling and nauseous. Merlin wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close into his chest, and Jada immediately felt warmer and safer as she leant into him.
“It’s all right, I’ve got you,” Merlin was murmuring, a thumb stroking her shoulder. “I’ve got you.”
Jada sniffled, her face tucked tightly into his neck and one hand wrapped in his tunic. “I nearly died,” she said in a shaking voice. “I almost died, and- What if I had died? I’d have just… I could have just…”
Merlin pulled back, just enough that she could see his face. “Hey, listen to me, Jada. I wouldn’t let that happen. Not ever, do you hear me? No matter what it takes, I’m going to keep you safe.”
She wasn’t an idiot. She knew that there had been nothing that Merlin could have done to save her back in the forest. She knew that without the aid of the Druids, she would almost definitely be dead right now. But the conviction in his eyes made it almost impossible not to believe him, and she was certain that he would damn well do everything he could to protect her. And she’d seen some of the lengths he was willing to go to in order to protect the people he cared about.
She squeezed her eyes shut and cupped his cheek with her hand, pressing her face to the side of his.
“Do you still want to see?” Merlin asked after a moment.
Jada sat back, letting his arm keep her upright, and nodded. His hand moved to the hem of her tunic, passing over a large, frightening bloodstain, before hovering there.
“Do you mind if I lift it?” he asked tentatively. “It’s… Well, I’m sure you can feel where it is. I just- I don’t want to-”
“I don’t mind,” Jada said. She could tell the wound was below her waistband, probably even below the line of her underwear, since the braies she’d manage to scavenge with the help of an incredibly embarrassed Gwen were so high-waisted. But this was a medical matter, she told herself. There was no reason for her to be embarrassed.
Merlin drew in a small breath, then nodded once. He turned his attention back to the shirt, carefully folding it upwards just enough to reveal the blood-stained hole in her trousers.
“Ah,” Jada said, trying to ease some of the tension in his shoulders. “Looks like I’m going to need some new clothes.”
She took the tunic’s hem from Merlin, leaving his hand free to pull back the next layer, but his hand stilled on the waist of her trousers.
“Sure you don’t mind?” he asked again in a low voice.
“I presume you helped treat it, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Then you’ve already seen.”
The corner of his lips quirked, almost apologetic. Then his gaze had dropped again, down to where he was beginning to attempt to unlace her trousers with his left hand. His fingers stumbled a few times before the laces finally came undone, and then his thumb pushed under her waistband and eased the fabric carefully down. The bandages appeared almost in-line with her hips, Jada’s braies having already been pushed down somewhat to accommodate them, and the wound itself seemed to be about two fingers lower than her navel, almost halfway between said navel and her hip.
Merlin tugged her trousers lower than her bandages, then began to unwind the bandages from around her.
“Tell me if it hurts,” he murmured.
But his movements were gentle, and it was only at the last, when the gauze that had stuck to the wound itself was peeled away, that Jada gave a cry.
“Sorry!” he said, the hand at her back stroking a circle with his thumb. “I’m sorry.”
Jada could feel his nose bumping against her temple as he held her, waiting for her to get her breathing back under control, and a dim voice in the back of her mind told her that there was absolutely no reason for him to be so close. But she’d nearly died, and he’d nearly lost her, and if that didn’t give them the right to say ‘Fuck it’ and act however they liked, then she didn’t know what did.
“I’m okay,” she said, once she felt a little steadier.
She looked now to the wound, and despite the gruesomeness of her clothing, the injury itself was neater than she’d imagined. It was more-or-less oval in shape, and about half the size of her thumb, but it looked to have been cleaned well and covered in some kind of salve.
She ran her thumb over it, astonished, but was careful not to disturb it.
“Gethin had to cut above it to get the arrow out,” Merlin explained. “You have a lot of bruising in other places, as well. And I don’t know whether or not you hit your head when you fell down the slope, so if you start to feel strange at all, then you tell me, all right?”
Jada gave a small smile, and nodded. “I will.” She tucked her head back into the crook of his neck, wrapping her arms around his middle. “Thank you for looking after me.”
“Just don’t put me through anything like this again, all right?”
She chuckled. “Believe me, I have no intentions of repeating this experience.”
They stayed like that for a few more minutes, but then Jada lifted her head and said, “I think I need to lie back down again. Sitting kinda hurts.”
“All right,” Merlin replied. “Just let me put some clean bandages on first, all right?”
Once Merlin had taken care of her—bandaging her wound, getting her clothes back in place, and helping her lie down again—he lay down beside her once again. Jada wanted him closer, wanted to rest her head on his shoulder and trace patterns on his chest with her fingertips, but the aching of her body had convinced her that that was probably not her best idea just now.
“How long do you think it’ll be before I can make it back to Camelot, then?” she asked.
Merlin gave a shrug with the shoulder he wasn’t lying on. “Maybe a few days? Because of where it is, moving too much could open it again, so we’ll have to wait until we know that’s definitely not going to happen before we try and walk all that way.”
A few days. That might present a problem, she thought. As much as it pained her to admit it… “You should go back,” she said. “People will probably already have noticed you’re not there. Gaius and your mother will worry, and Arthur will be annoyed, no doubt.”
“I’m not leaving you here.”
“I don’t want you to get in trouble for me.”
“I know.” He said it softly, fondly, with the smallest hint of crinkles appearing at the corners of his eyes.
Jada felt the warmth swell in her chest. Merlin wasn’t going anywhere. “Thank you,” she managed. The crinkles deepened.
A sudden light filled the space as a gap appeared in the tent’s side, and a tall, dark-skinned man stepped inside. He was wearing long robes, reminding Jada faintly of Iseldir, and his eyes immediately lit up as they landed on the two of them.
“Ah, you’re awake,” he said, by way of greeting. “How do you feel?”
“Not too bad,” Jada replied.
“This is Gethin,” Merlin explained, propping himself up with an elbow.
Gethin gave a small bow of his head, a warm smile on his face, then crossed the tent to set a satchel full of sticks down beside an extinguished fire. “I suppose we won’t be needing all of this now, then.”
“Where have you been?” Merlin asked. “You left in the middle of the night, and it definitely wasn’t just to gather wood.”
“My apologies. I needed to speak with the other Elders. It’s not very often we have an Elemental come into our care.” The latter he directed to Jada with a smile, but seemed taken aback by her clueless look. “I am sorry,” he said, “I assumed that Emrys would have explained…?”
Gethin turned his gaze to Merlin, who didn’t look anywhere near as confused as Jada felt. “Not yet,” Merlin replied. “She’s not long woken up.”
“I see,” Gethin said, nodding. “My apologies, then.”
He seemed just about to say something else, when Merlin cut in: “What did you speak with the Elders about?”
“Whether they knew of any other ways to help her heal. Whether… this means…”
Merlin sat up properly, now. “Whether this means what?”
Jada couldn’t recall ever feeling so lost in her life, her eyes bouncing between the two of them as though that would somehow make it all make sense.
Gethin glanced at her, then turned back to Merlin. “There is a prophecy…”
Merlin let out a sigh.
“A prophecy that states that when Elementals walk among us once again,” Gethin continued, undeterred, “The doom of Camelot is near at hand.”
She saw Merlin’s face harden. “And what is that doom?”
“The fall of the city. The end of the Pendragon house. The destruction of the kingdom, and annihilation of all its people.”
The air seemed to have suddenly grown very thick, Jada thought. Merlin was completely still, save for the quickened rise and fall of his chest. “How do I stop it?”
Gethin gave a small smile. “That is what we were discussing. Some say that it is the Elementals themselves who hold the key.”
He gave another glance to Jada, and Merlin turned to look at her, too.
“How?” Merlin asked.
“Elder Lyra told us that her people speak of a particular Elemental, born of fire and chosen by Emrys, who will be called by the Goddess herself to serve her and protect the realm.”
Merlin’s eyes slid back to Jada, though his words were still directed at Gethin. “And did Elder Lyra tell you this before or after you told her we were here?”
“Before.”
Merlin made a face of surprise, his lips making an ‘o’ before he pursed them and nodded. “Oh. Right. Well, that seems oddly specific. Interesting.”
He turned to Jada as though he expected her to say something, but she hadn’t been able to figure out the conversation any more than she had at the start of it. “I have literally no idea what is going on,” she told him.
Merlin huffed a laugh, trying not to smile but not being particularly successful. That fond look came back into his face as he looked at her again.
“Right. Well, it seems there is a lot to be explained, then,” Gethin said. “Would you like me to… go…?”
Merlin shook his head. “No, you’ll be better at explaining all the Elemental stuff than I will. I only know what you’ve told me.”
“As you wish,” Gethin replied. “But perhaps first you’d like something to eat? Healing is very hungry work.”
Merlin looked to Jada, but her breath was stolen by the way his face softened as he turned to her. She nodded at the offer of food, and he smiled and returned it.
“Very well, then,” Gethin announced. “A late breakfast, and then some explanations.”
Chapter 60 ->
Guy outside somewhere has been yapping loudly on the phone for a full hour now brother it's 4:27am
Oh thank god he's finally shut the fuck up
Guy outside somewhere has been yapping loudly on the phone for a full hour now brother it's 4:27am
#artists
Edited for all my writer friends out there
Chapter 58: Fire
Masterlist
<- Chapter 57
“Are you sure you know where you’re going?” Merlin asked, the sound of him stumbling over a root reaching Jada’s ears through the dark.
“Mostly,” Jada replied. “Although, I’ve never actually been to the Druid camp, it’s been a while, and it’s pitch-black right now.”
“Right,” Merlin said sarcastically. “Great.”
“You insisted on coming.”
“You asked me to stay with you.”
Jada slowed, her voice losing its teasing edge. “I did.”
She heard Merlin slow beside her too, and his voice had also softened. “Do you still want me to?”
“Please. Until the morning, at least.” She hoped Merlin hadn’t noticed the change in her tone halfway through; how her ‘please’ had come out almost desperate before she’d forced herself into a much more casual act.
“I’ll stay,” he said, his voice still soft. “As long as you want.”
This was very unfair, Jada thought. She was supposed to be remaining resolute, putting a damper on things, at least until she could figure out…
Figure out what, exactly? She’d written it in the letter that she needed to be sure he really was sorry, that he really had meant it when he said it wouldn’t happen again, but did she really still have doubts? Was there any part of her that genuinely thought he wasn’t trying to make amends?
But that was the problem. She didn’t know. She couldn’t trust herself to know, to tell the difference between a sincere and an insincere apology. She’d been wrong too many times before.
“Merlin?” she began. “About that letter…”
“What is it?”
“I’m not sure I want you to read it, after all.”
The pause was more noticeable in the dark, she thought, when she couldn’t see his face. “Why not?” he asked. His voice wasn’t demanding or irritated, as she’d feared it would be. Instead he seemed only to want to understand.
“I… don’t think I worded it right.”
Another pause, though this one felt longer. “Are you worried about what I’ll think when I read it?” he asked softly.
Jada didn’t answer for a heartbeat, then; “Yes.”
Somehow, it was easier to talk in the dark. The silences filled her stomach with dread, but not having to look at his face made it easier to just say how she really felt, what she really thought.
“What are you worried I’ll think?”
“That I’m pushing you away,” she said after a moment. “That I’m…” A sigh. “I want you to stay. I want to work this out, but I’m… It’s me. The problem is with me, not you. You just got caught up in it, set something off.”
She wrapped her arms around herself, keeping her eyes down towards the dim shapes on the ground. “Michael was horrid to me. He was horrid, and I know that now, but at the time… At the time I didn’t. He had me convinced that I deserved to be treated like that, that I deserved to not be trusted.”
A few moments passed as she focused on her breathing, but Merlin seemed to sense that she wasn’t finished, and waited patiently for her to continue.
“He’d say some terrible things to me, Merlin. And… and we’d argue, and I’d get mad, and then he’d always come to me afterwards saying how sorry he was and how he’d never treat me like that again. And I loved him, so I wanted to see the best in him. I wanted to believe he meant it, but he never did. He never changed, unless you count getting worse. And now…
“Now I can’t tell when somebody really means they’re sorry. I can’t tell what’s true remorse, and what’s just made up and acted out to get back on my good side anymore. And I want to believe you, and I want to forgive you and I want to put this whole stupid thing behind us, but I… I wanted to believe him, too. I don’t know how to trust my instincts, I don’t know how to trust my gut, I don’t know how to trust anything because it’s been wrong so many times before.”
Merlin’s footsteps stopped, prompting Jada to halt also and turn back towards him. “Merlin?”
“Léoht.” An orb of white light appeared out of thin air, illuminating the two of them. For the first time, Jada could see Merlin’s face—could see all of the pity, the sorrow, the heartbreak. The remorse.
She felt herself break.
Then, she found herself wrapped up in Merlin’s arms, the soft warmth of his skinny body somehow making her feel so much safer. “Oh, Jada…” he sighed. “I’m so sorry I’ve hurt you. I’m sorry I brought this all back up again.”
“You didn’t know,” Jada mumbled into his neckerchief.
They held onto each other in silence for a few minutes, until Jada began to feel steadier and less like she was breaking apart. At last, however, Merlin pulled back, though only far enough to rest his forehead against hers.
“I want to make you a promise,” he said. “Well, several promises, really.”
“What kind of promise?” If she could stay wrapped up in Merlin forever, she thought, then she probably would. He was so warm and soft and comforting.
“I promise to trust you completely. I promise to be honest with you, and to share things with you, and to be as much your support as you are mine. No more doubts, no more second-guessing. I promise to listen to you and not what other people whisper to me when they try to question your loyalty. We’re a team, and there’s no-one else I’d rather have by my side.”
Jada gave a half-hearted snort, head-butting him gently. “Dork.”
Merlin wrinkled his nose, but he was smiling. “Dork?” he repeated indignantly.
“One hundred percent,” she replied, before softening. “Then I’ll make the same promises to you. For honesty, and trust, and teamwork. I promise to always support you the best that I can.”
He’d stepped back, though he’d intertwined their fingers on both hands, and his smile was so soft as he looked at her that it made Jada’s chest ache. A hopeful light entered his eyes.
“Does this mean… we’re moving on?” he asked tentatively. “Is this now finally behind us?”
Jada ran her thumbs over the knuckles of his, looking down at their hands as she consulted with herself. “I think… we might be?” She gave a smile that grew slowly wider. “Yeah, I think so.”
Merlin gave a relieved exhale, his smile widening into a grin, too. It reminded Jada of the dawn breaking. “Good,” he said. “I’m glad. Let’s not do this again.”
His laugh made Jada grin, and she stepped closer to wrap her arms around his middle again and hug him tight. “Agreed,” she said, and without thinking added, “I missed you.”
She had only a brief second of mortification before Merlin hugged her closer and tucked his face into her neck with a contented sigh. “I missed you, too,” she heard him mumble.
Jada was surprised, to say the least, but there was just something so calming about being in Merlin’s arms that her surprise soon stepped aside entirely. She could stay like this forever, she thought, and suddenly all she wanted to do was curl up in bed with him under a snuggly duvet and soft pillows and drift in and out of sleep.
She wondered what waking up next to Merlin was like before she could stop herself, then remembered all the times she’d woken up with him already; all the sleepy smiles, the messy hair, the mumbled words. God, she thought, it would be lovely. To have Merlin be hers as much as she was his.
“We should keep going,” she said, pulling gently out of the embrace. “The sooner we get to the Druids, the sooner we can go home.”
Merlin looked quickly up at her, though she couldn’t understand his surprise until he spoke. “Home?”
Heat rushed into her face. Had she really said that? “Well, y’know, Camelot. The sooner we can go back to Camelot.”
He wasn’t fooled, but he didn’t press any further, only grinning as he started walking with her again. “Right. The sooner we can get back to Camelot.”
Jada’s heart almost fell off its perch as she felt his fingers slip in between hers again, but neither of them said anything as she returned the pressure. Still, she could feel her face flushing again,and only hoped that Merlin didn’t notice.
“At least the rest of the journey will be faster and less perilous now that you’ve remembered you can conjure balls of light at will,” she joked.
Merlin let out a huff of a laugh. “That’s if you can even figure out where you’re going.”
She shot him a playful glare. “What, is there no spell that gives you directions? And I thought you were supposed to be the greatest sorcerer ever.”
“It’s my day off, today. Ask me about it again in the morning.”
Jada laughed, shaking her head at him. Thankfully, the rock formation they were passing seemed at least vaguely familiar to her now. “Come on, it’s this way,” she said, pulling him along by the hand.
“If you say so,” he teased.
The two of them had been walking for maybe an hour before Merlin froze. Jada spun, almost losing her hold on his hand, but she only got the briefest glimpse of his listening face before their light went out, leaving them in complete darkness.
Her eyes hadn’t adjusted yet before she felt Merlin move again, his hand pulling her blindly after him until suddenly there was a tree pressing against her, it’s rough bark scratching against her cheek. She felt Merlin at her 5 o’clock, his left arm around her back to tuck them both tightly against the trunk.
“Shh,” he whispered, the sound right by her ear, but Jada was already practically holding her breath. She only hoped the pounding of her heart wouldn’t give them away to whatever they were hiding from.
Footsteps began to creep closer through the shadows; multiple footsteps that seemed to be trying hard not to be heard as they brushed through the undergrowth. The sound of Merlin’s breathing was hushed, but Jada could hear the nervousness in the shakiness of each exhale.
Her eyes began to distinguish murky shapes emerging from the blackness, hunched and huddled as they crouched low to avoid detection. Most were a few feet away from where Jada and Merlin hid, but one’s path seemed to be leading right by them, and Jada thought she could make out the shape of a bow half-readied in their hands.
Merlin pressed her closer to the tree.
She held her breath for real as the figure passed by, not daring to move so much as a millimetre in case they were discovered. Agonising seconds passed as the figure’s footsteps took them slowly away, but Jada knew that if they turned back even slightly, the two of them would be almost as obvious as if Merlin’s light was still illuminated above them.
Merlin was just as tense beside her, though she couldn’t even turn to look at his face, but at last she felt him turn his head.
There was a stretching sound.
“Please,” Merlin said, the sound startling Jada, “We have nothing.”
There was fear in his voice, and Jada didn’t know whether she should turn, or whether she should remain stock-still as though she had any hope of not being spotted now.
When she did turn, she saw that she’d been right; it was a bow the shadowy figure had been holding. And now it was pointing at the two of them, alternating between them both.
“Give up your coin,” the bandit ordered, his voice surprisingly ordinary, “Or give up your lives.”
“Please,” Merlin said again, stepping out from their hiding spot. “There’s no need to do this.”
Jada noticed him moving slowly in between her and the bandit, though whether or not that was intentional on his part, she couldn’t tell. Nevertheless, she was tired of being helpless and frightened, and she certainly wasn’t about to cower behind Merlin and risk him getting shot while she hid.
“Wrong,” the bandit said while Jada edged forward to Merlin’s side. “I need your gold, so you need to hand it over. Now. I won’t ask again.”
“Do we look like we have gold?” Merlin asked, gesturing first down at himself, then at Jada.
In a swift movement, the bandit raised his bow to point the tip of the arrow directly at Merlin’s face. Merlin froze. “Empty your bags, then,” the man demanded. “Let’s see what you do have.”
More of the figures had started to emerge from the trees now, and Jada saw Merlin eye them as she fingered the hilt of her sword.
The bandit must have noticed her wandering hand, and in a flash turned his bow on her. There was a twang as he loosed the arrow, then a thud as he landed on the ground, but it took Jada’s frozen brain several long seconds before she realised exactly what had happened.
Merlin lowered his hand, turning to her with wide and terrified eyes, but the shock that had set in only allowed Jada to stare numbly back at him. She saw him frantically look her over, then let out a relieved, uneven breath, before turning sharply away from her to look behind him.
“Sorcerer!” a voice cried out, and then a second arrow whistled through the trees, only to be stopped abruptly in front of Merlin’s face by a flash of gold in his wide eyes.
They were under attack, Jada’s brain foggily registered, her legs moving clumsily forward as she reached for her sword again. She unsheathed it just as she passed Merlin, the sound as she did so strangely satisfying, but suddenly she was grabbed by her shirt and hauled off balance.
She found herself facing Merlin, his knuckles white as he held onto her. “No,” he urged. “Just run.”
Run. Her brain repeated the word as the sound of the charging bandits behind her reached her ears. It was too slow to send the command, though, too slow to move her sluggish feet, and a quiet voice in the back of her head told her she was never going to escape, she was too slow, they were going to catch her-
She almost fell on her face when Merlin jerked her forward, but then she was running. The dreamy numbness abandoned her. The ground was hard under her pounding feet, and her panicked gasps for air already threatened to explode her lungs as they ran. Merlin’s hand kept a vice-like grip on her arm as he hurtled just slightly ahead of her, and all Jada could think was; Please don’t fall, please don’t fall…
She hadn’t seen how many figures had emerged from the shadows after them, but the sound of them scrambling and sprinting through the forest behind her and Merlin made it seem as though there could be hundreds of them. Jada didn’t dare turn to look.
Merlin did. He glanced behind them only seconds before yanking Jada in a new direction, but suddenly the ground fell away from her feet to plunge down a sharp bank. Merlin skidded ungracefully down it, but Jada hadn’t the time to right herself before she hit the ground on her belly, bounced, rolled, and tumbled down the hill, the fallen leaves skittering around her.
She landed with a whump at the bottom, face-down in the litter, and let out a pained little sound that was somewhere between a whimper and a groan.
“Jada,” she heard Merlin gasp, his footsteps hurrying over to her and his hands pulling her up by her arms. Everything ached, but she knew she had to get up, that they had to run before the bandits caught up with them. She’d had her sword in her hand as she fell, she realised. Where was her sword-?
There was the sound of an arrow being loosed, then a thud, and now the sound Jada made was a real whimper.
“No,” she heard Merlin say, his eyes going wide as the colour drained from his face.
Jada felt her knees buckle as the pain blossomed in her abdomen, but she had to look down at herself before her brain truly realised what had happened. She saw the base of the arrow sticking out of her, her dazed brain only vaguely noting how strange and unnatural it looked, and from there everything seemed to move in slow motion.
She saw the figure at the top of the hill, though she could barely pick their silhouette out against the dark forest behind them, and she saw the other shadows emerge as they caught up with them. She heard Merlin scream, his voice ragged, and then the silhouettes were gone from the hilltop.
She felt Merlin’s arms around her, and the crunch of the leaves under her legs as he lowered her gently to the floor.
“No, no, no, no,” she heard him saying, and tried to concentrate on his voice through the fog. “Jada, listen to me. You’re going to be all right, okay? It’s going to be fine, you’re going to be fine, just-”
She could see in his face the panic, the tears in his eyes betraying him so readily. She’d seen him look like that before, she remembered, her brain struggling to make the connection.
It took a few moments, but then a single word presented itself so resolutely through the fog that it seemed obvious, now.
Not a word, a name.
Will.
“I’m not going to die, Merlin,” she promised. It came out a little mumbled, a little slurred, but she remained convinced all the same. She wasn’t going to die, she decided. Not if it meant leaving him alone. Not if it meant him losing another friend.
“How bad is it?” she asked in a groan, a hand wandering to the arrow’s shaft. There were organs there, she knew, but which ones and whether any had been damaged she couldn’t tell. God, she wished she’d paid more attention in biology.
She felt Merlin’s gentle fingertips near the wound, presumably examining it, but Jada didn’t have the energy to lift her head and see for certain. When his face appeared in her vision again, it was pinched and ashen.
“Tell me the truth,” she said.
Merlin made no response for perhaps half a second, and then his face contorted, his mouth screwing up as his control slipped. “I don’t know what to do,” he admitted at length, his voice a broken whisper.
“Me neither,” Jada slurred. She felt strangely calm, she noted, though she supposed there probably wasn’t much point in panicking now. They’d figure out how to fix it, somehow. She was certain of it. “I suppose we pull it out?”
“No,” Merlin replied with a shake of his head, his voice more resolute now. “Gaius said you have to leave it in, otherwise you’ll unblock the hole and risk bleeding out.”
“You sure?” That wasn’t how they did it in the films.
He nodded. “I’m sure. At least… I think…”
Despite herself, Jada had to smile. She let her head rest back against the leaves, eyes shut. “Well, as long as you’re sure.”
“I’m sorry.”
His desperate voice opened her eyes again, and she studied him for a moment before speaking. “’M not going to die, Merlin.”
He took her hand in his, moving closer so that his face was easier for her to see, and now his expression had smoothed out. “No, you’re not,” he said, free hand moving to brush over her hair softly. “You’re going to be just fine. We’re going to get you help, and then you’re going to get better, all right? Everything’s going to be fine.”
It was getting harder to make her body do what she wanted now, but Jada gave a choked laugh anyway. “How are you still such a terrible liar?”
Merlin laughed, too, but then the sound became almost a strangled sob. He ducked his head, before his face returned with a whole new expression again. “Please stay,” he whispered. “Please don’t leave me.”
“Not gonna.” Sleepy. She was getting very sleepy. Probably because it was so late, she thought. They really should have waited for the morning.
“Jada?”
He really ought to stop stroking her hair. It was putting her right to sleep.
“Jada?”
The words ‘Love you’ sprang to her lips suddenly, emerging from some darkened recess of her brain, and in truth Jada almost managed to say them. But her tongue was so heavy; she was so tired, and surely if she just slept for a little while then she’d be able to say them properly when she woke up. They seemed important, she thought—too important to be said all garbled and mixed up.
She turned her face towards Merlin’s arm and went to sleep.
---
“Please, Jada,” Merlin begged. “Please don’t leave me.”
He shook her, desperation taking hold, but she gave no response. He didn’t know what to do, how to save her; help was so very far away, and he had no idea how to get her there, and she was going to die here in a ditch and covered in leaves because he was so useless and didn’t know how to save her.
“Please!” It was all he had. No spells, no plan, no way of tricking fate. Not this time. Just a tearing feeling in his chest, and the urge to scream and cry and let his magic rip a few trees out of the earth, roots and all.
He bent over her, face beside her own and her head and shoulders cradled in his arms. “Please don’t go. I’ll do anything you want. Anything at all, just please, please-”
“Emrys?”
Surprise cancelled out every other emotion for an odd second as Merlin lifted his head and looked around. His gaze fell on a hooded figure approaching, but it took another moment before he gathered his wits enough to raise a palm towards them in warning.
“You need not be afraid, Emrys,” the figure, a man, said. “I am here to help.”
“Who are you?” Merlin asked, his voice hoarse.
“I am Gethin, of the Druids. I felt your magic and feared you were in danger.”
The Druids. The relief that surged through Merlin’s body was so strong, he thought he might cry. “Help me,” he pleaded brokenly. “Please. She’s dying.”
Gethin’s gaze lowered to Jada lying limply in Merlin’s arms. His face looked grave for a moment, but then his arms were outstretched as he hurried forward. “Here, give her to me,” he urged. “We must hurry.”
Merlin did as he was told, letting the stranger scoop Jada into his arms before pushing himself to his feet. His legs felt boneless, unresponsive, and he only managed a short step after the man before he stumbled and almost fell.
Gethin turned to look back at him with concern written in his features. “Are you all right?”
“Just go,” he insisted. “I’ll be fine.”
He followed Gethin through the trees at as fast a pace as Merlin could manage, his legs thankfully remembering how to work again not too far into the journey. The camp seemed to appear out of nowhere, a dotting of tents and extinguished campfires suddenly springing up around them as they walked. It was almost completely deserted—save for one old woman sitting outside her tent and eyeing them with a wizened, twinkling eye—and Merlin dimly assumed that everyone else must have been in bed.
He couldn’t find the energy to care where the rest of them were, in truth; his attention was fixed solely on following Gethin’s back as he wove his way through the camp, and the way Jada’s head had fallen backwards as he carried her, exposing her throat and chin to the stars above.
Please, let her live, he prayed to no-one in particular. His mother had always taught him about the gods when he was growing up, but their worship was prohibited in Camelot. Did the gods have power here? So much bad had happened that in a way, he almost wanted to believe they didn’t. At least then he could believe that they’d wanted to help but simply hadn’t been able, rather than being left with the thought that they’d abandoned him.
Whatever deity held sway in Camelot, he pleaded with them now.
They came to a tent, and Merlin followed Gethin as he ducked through the entrance and inside. There were two bedrolls on the ground, one at each end of the tent, and by the entrance was a collection of candles of varying heights. Merlin didn’t have time to notice anything else as Gethin bent to lay Jada carefully in one of the beds.
“Light all the candles,” Gethin commanded, “And don’t use magic to do it.”
Merlin was confused but did as he was told, finding a light beside the candle collection and setting about his task. When he glanced back over to Jada, he saw Gethin wrap his hands around the arrow shaft and pull, and then there was blood, Jada’s blood, and it was spreading and seeping and staining her white tunic red.
“Jada…” Merlin fell to his knees beside her, desperate to help but clueless as to how.
“Candles!” Gethin said, covering the wound with a large cloth and applying pressure.
“What are candles going to do?!” Merlin cried.
“We need to set them all around her, as many as possible. The heat will feed her magic and help her to heal.”
Her magic. Merlin asked no more questions, turning back to light the rest of the candles.
By the time he’d finished, Gethin was bandaging Jada up, the bloody cloth sitting now in his lap.
“Is she going to be all right?” Please, gods.
“That depends,” Gethin replied, pulling the blankets up around Jada. “I’ve managed to stop the bleeding, but now we must see if we can get her warm enough. Fetch me the blankets from the other bed.”
“How will keeping her warm help her magic?” Merlin asked as he got to his feet.
“She was born of fire. The magic of fire is in her blood, just as your magic is in yours. The warmer she gets, the stronger her magic grows, the more likely it is that it will be able to save her. Fire needs three things in order to be able to exist: heat, fuel, and to be able to breathe. The same is said to be true of Fire Elementals.”
“Fire Elementals? Is that what she is?” He handed Gethin the blankets, which Gethin then used to cover Jada’s already well-wrapped form.
“You mean you hadn’t noticed?”
Merlin shifted his weight. “I’d never even heard of a Fire Elemental before.”
“Well, now you know one,” Gethin smiled. He turned to begin setting the candles about, but a thought occurred to Merlin.
“How do you know all this? You couldn’t have known she was for certain, just by looking at her.”
His smile widened slightly, before he dropped his head. “No, I didn’t. Not from looking at her, anyway. I realised while I was carrying her.”
“How?”
“Come here, and see for yourself.”
Sceptically, Merlin stepped forward, unsure what exactly Gethin was referring to. Gethin took his hand, guiding him closer to Jada before releasing his hand just over her face. “Touch her.”
Merlin frowned, but set his palm gently against her forehead anyway. Immediately, he tore it away with a hiss, surprised by the heat of her skin.
“She’s dying,” he blurted. “She’s overheating. We need to get the blankets off.”
“That,” Gethin began, catching Merlin’s hands as he reached to tear the blankets away from her, “Is her magic. If it were any ordinary person at that temperature, they’d probably be dead already. But she’s fighting for her life right now, and her magic needs all the help we can give it.”
Merlin eyed him, then turned to look back at Jada. I just run hot, she’d said. I always have. And it had been a blast of fire that Nimueh had hit her with, which Jada had miraculously survived. And fire had been what she’d used to attack Nimueh. Maybe there was some truth to Gethin’s words.
He still didn’t understand the half of it all, he realised, but there would be time for full explanations later. Right now, they had to save Jada. And if saving her meant doing the opposite of everything Gaius had ever told him, then…
“I really hope you’re right about this,” he told Gethin.
“Fear not,” Gethin replied. “I think she will survive this, yet.”
Chapter 59 ->
Chapter 57: Delay
Masterlist
<- Chapter 56
His dinner was cold by the time he returned to the table, but Merlin wasn’t going to complain. Both his mother and Gaius had finished their meals and were already washing their bowls at the counter, but as Merlin sat back at the table Gaius turned around.
“Is everything all right?” he asked.
“Hm?” Merlin’s attention shot from his food to Gaius. “Oh, yeah. Everything’s fine. Uh, I’m going to be away tomorrow, so if Arthur comes looking for me can you tell him I’m picking herbs for you?”
“And where will you really be?” Gaius asked suspiciously, drying his bowl with a towel.
The answer was on Merlin’s lips, but suddenly he wondered whether Jada wanted anyone else to know. She had singled him out to tell him of her plan, after all. Still, he had to tell Gaius something. “With Jada,” he replied. “She thinks she might know where she can find some answers, to figure out what’s happening to her.”
“And why does she need you to go with her?”
“I offered. I wanted to make sure she got there safely.”
Gaius regarded him with a stern expression as he finished drying his bowl, then set it aside. Just as he turned back to respond, Merlin cut him off. “You don’t think I should go with her,” he guessed.
Gaius let out a slight sigh. “I think you’ve been in quite enough danger recently.”
“You think Jada’s dangerous?” He felt his eyebrows raise just a fraction, though it wasn’t in surprise—not really. It was almost a challenge.
“Merlin, we do not have the faintest idea who or what she is,” Gaius replied, his tone nearing exasperation. “Perhaps you should not trust her so readily until you can answer that.”
“You’re wrong.” Merlin was surprised at the surety of the words as they fell out of his mouth, but he refused to be taken in by doubt again. “She saved my life, Gaius. Why would she do that just to lead me into a different danger now?”
Gaius was silent for a long time, though his scowl didn’t ease much. At length, he said, “I cannot guess at her motives, but that does nothing to alter the fact that her story makes little sense.”
“That is why we are going to look for answers. To find something that does make sense.”
His mother had been drying her bowl for a very long time, Merlin noticed, but she was keeping her back to them so he was unable to read her face.
“And what if I’m right?” Gaius demanded. “What if she cannot be trusted? Are you really willing to put your life in her hands?”
Merlin felt his lungs tighten, his voice softening of its own accord. “Yes.” He gave a small, fond smile. “She hasn’t failed me yet.”
A long breath came out of Gaius’ nostrils, and though his jaw was still squared stubbornly, he took a small step back. “Then I hope your faith is not misplaced, for all our sakes.”
“How long will you be gone?” his mother asked, watching Merlin pack as she settled into bed.
“Just tomorrow,” he replied. “I’ll be back by tomorrow night.”
“And you can’t say where you’re going?”
He looked up, tilting his head in reluctance. “I’m not sure Jada wants anyone else to know. She and Gaius haven’t exactly been on the best terms, recently.”
“What happened?” His mother’s eyes were steady as they rested on him, patient and without judgment.
“She saved my life. From Nimueh, the sorceress who made you ill and gave me that mark.” He tapped the edge of the wound over his tunic, careful not to disturb it. “Gaius thinks it’s suspicious Jada survived.”
“But you don’t?”
Merlin frowned, looking down at his feet for a moment as he shifted his weight between them. “Maybe I’m an idiot,” he said at length, “But… She saved my life. She could have died, but she still chose to save me. And…”—He picked at his trouser leg, eyes fixed on the movement—“And there’s been so many other things…”
He wanted to say more, but didn’t know how to put it all into words. His picking stopped, his hand falling back to his side.
“You like her, don’t you?”
Shock made his gaze shoot up to her face, the rest of his body freezing. All except for his heart, which hammered against his ribcage, and the breath in his lungs that stuttered and then quickened.
“She’s-” he stammered, mouth working faster than his brain. “She’s a good friend.”
His mother smiled, her eyes bright as they read his face. “I think she likes you.”
Now Merlin’s breathing really did speed up, something twisting in his chest. “You do?”
She gave a quiet laugh, her smile widening. “I think so.”
He could feel his face beginning to burn at the realisation he’d practically exposed his own feelings, but the heat of embarrassment only threatened to consume him for a brief moment. Then, he glanced back up at his mother’s face, at her pleased and triumphant grin, and felt his own tugging at the corners of his mouth. He couldn’t resist it for long, but when it began to spread onto his face, it was much more shy than his mother’s.
“Have you told her?” she asked.
“Not yet,” he admitted. “I’ve been trying, but… a lot has been happening. And I want to earn her trust back again now, first.”
“You should spend some time together,” his mother suggested, still smiling, “After you’ve managed to resolve everything. Take her somewhere nice.”
“We were going to go to the tavern, but we kept having to postpone it.”
“The tavern,” she repeated, with a slight laugh and shake of her head.
Merlin frowned. “What’s wrong with the tavern?”
“If you’re going to tell her how you feel, you want it to be somewhere quiet. That way you’ll be able to have a real conversation.”
He’d considered that, but he certainly wasn’t going to turn down his mother’s advice so quickly. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he asked, “But where else can I take her?”
“There must be somewhere. Where do you go when you want to have a bit of peace, and be by yourself?”
Merlin thought, then a slow smile began to make its way onto his face. “There is somewhere…”
“Is it somewhere you think she’d like?”
Merlin nodded. “I think so.”
He could already imagine it; looking at Jada in the glow of the lamplights with that view…
“You could give her some flowers, too,” his mother suggested, calling his attention back. “I’m sure she’d like that.”
His grin certainly wasn’t going to be leaving anytime soon, he thought as he nodded. “I think I know exactly what to do, now.”
“Then I wish you good luck,” she said with a smile. “Now get to bed, you have a busy day tomorrow.”
Merlin couldn’t help his chuckle, but he rose and headed towards his bedroll all the same. “Yes, Mother.”
They bid each other goodnight, and Merlin drifted off with a smile on his lips.
When Merlin knocked on Jada’s door the next morning, there was no answer. She’d probably overslept, he decided with a second, louder knock—although he did worry that now they wouldn’t be fast enough to make it out of the castle before Arthur came looking for him. They’d just have to be sneakier, he decided.
He’d been stood outside for several minutes now, yet still Jada had not appeared. With a frown, Merlin eased the door open just enough to see the light flooding into the room through the open curtains on the far wall.
“Jada?” he called, taking a step inside, but his quick sweep of the room found it empty. The bed was made, the table was clear, and the boots that she always kept by the foot of her wardrobe were gone.
She’d gone without him. The realisation at first seemed to settle carefully in his middle, before sinking deeper and twisting into him. It wasn’t so much that he opposed her going without him, exactly—though the thought of what might happen on the journey certainly didn’t fill him with much comfort. No, it was that she hadn’t told him, that she’d felt she had to lie instead of just admitting she’d rather go alone.
He would have understood. Probably. Maybe. Okay, maybe not understood, but he would have at least respected her wishes. Even if that did mean letting her go out into the bandit-and-magical-beast-infested forest on her own.
He wouldn’t have admitted to sulking back to Gaius’, though the definition of the word bore an uncanny likeness to the slump of his shoulders and the trudging of his feet. He did consider going out after her, but after the way she’d been ready to yell at him when she thought he’d followed her to Nimueh he didn’t want to risk it. He’d just have to wait for her to return.
“I thought you were heading out with Jada today?” Gaius said as Merlin trudged back into the room.
“So did I,” Merlin replied, swinging his bag onto the table as he slumped onto a stool.
Maybe his distrust had done more damage than he’d thought. Maybe it was naïve of him to have assumed everything had already gone back to normal. Maybe he’d really, truly made a mess of things this time.
He blew out a breath as he slumped his chin into his hands, and saw Gaius eye him from where he was counting ingredients.
“Anything you want to talk about?” Gaius prodded.
“No,” came the miserable reply. It was Jada he needed to talk about it all with. But now she was gone, and he had no idea when she’d be back.
With another sigh, he pushed himself up again. “I need to get to work.”
Arthur had reprimanded him for being late—again—but soon noticed Merlin’s unhappy mood, which was most definitely not a sulk. Nevertheless, it seemed to amuse Arthur, who promptly began to tease him for ‘sulking’ while simultaneously trying to find out what it was all over—though of course, Merlin didn’t tell him. He only delivered a few surly retorts, rolled his eyes at Arthur’s jibes, and wished that breakfast would hurry up and be over already so he could have some peace and take the plates back.
When his respite finally did come, he jumped to gather the plates up a bit too eagerly, though thankfully Arthur didn’t seem to notice. Then he was out of the room and away down the hall, heading for the kitchens.
He hadn’t made it far when the sound of his name made him halt, turning to look back the way he’d come with a frown. Sure enough, his eyes reinforced what his ears were telling him, though his mouth could only shape a confused, “Jada?”
She must have spotted him passing the end of the corridor she was on, and was hurrying now to catch up with him.
“I’m really sorry,” she said. “Uther sent one of the servants to come get me this morning; apparently he wanted some music at breakfast. There wasn’t any time to come and tell you.”
Merlin felt his frown begin to ease. “Oh. You... oh.”
Oh. Well, now he felt stupid.
“Yeah,” she continued. “Then I went down to Gaius, but he said you’d already come up here to Arthur. I’m really sorry I didn’t have chance to tell you.”
Maybe he shouldn’t have immediately assumed she’d left without him, Merlin thought with a pang of guilt. A smile tried to shake it off him. “No, it’s all right. Um… What are we going to do now, though? Arthur will definitely notice if I just disappear during the day.”
Please don’t say ‘go alone’, please don’t say ‘go alone’, he thought fervently.
Jada put her hands on her hips, pursing her lips slightly as she thought. “What if we went tonight? No, scratch that, you’d end up getting no sleep.”
“I can-”
“Are you sure Arthur would say no if you asked?”
He’d been about to offer to sacrifice his sleep anyway, but Jada looked as though she had no intentions of entertaining the idea. “What would I even ask him?” he replied. “I can hardly tell him the truth, can I?”
She gave a casual shrug. “Blame it on me, I don’t mind. Tell him I demanded you come help with something.”
Merlin gave a chuckle. “No, I couldn’t do that.”
“I need a potion to help my voice,” Jada made up, turning her face into the picture of innocence. “I think I damaged it this morning. Gaius has run out of one of the very specific ingredients he needs for it, because it’s not like he makes this potion all that often. And he’s a very busy man, he doesn’t have time to go and gather ingredients himself at the moment. So, he told me where to find it, but I can hardly go all by myself now, can I?”
He probably shouldn’t have found the mischievous light in her eyes so attractive, he concluded, and smiled with a shake of his head. “You are almost too good at that,” he said with the huff of a laugh.
Jada laughed too, but then a change came over her face, and something like fear entered it. “I’m not- y’know- It’s not like I do it often… I was just messing around; you don’t have to-”
All too late, Merlin realised what had happened.
“N-no, I didn’t mean-” he began, falling into the same stuttering trap in his rush to control the damage. Taking a quick pause, he tried again. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to suggest you did lie regularly. I just meant…”—A shake of his head—“I don’t know, I just thought it was funny. I wasn’t trying to insult you.”
“Oh,” Jada said, looking down to where her thumb was fingering her sleeve. “Okay. Sorry I jumped to conclusions.”
Merlin gave an involuntary sigh as he watched her, feeling a strange sense of mourning for the way they used to be. The sound made Jada look up, and she studied him for only a moment before understanding filled her eyes.
“I really am sorry, you know,” he said, not meaning their immediate misunderstanding.
Jada looked down at her sleeve again. “I know. Well…” She shifted uncomfortably, her lips moving as though she was trying to force some words through them that very certainly did not want to come out.
“Does this just look like I’m being a bitch, to you?” she asked suddenly, before glancing up and down the hallway and lowering her voice. “I mean… do you think I’m being unreasonable?”
Merlin frowned, unsure exactly what she was asking. “I think I hurt you, and I need to make up for that.”
“Yeah, but it’s not- I’m not usually-” She gave a frustrated huff, pressing the back of her hand to her eyes.
Merlin stepped forward, still frowning, and set a hand gently on her upper arm. His thumb made an absent sweep over the fabric of her sleeve. The words “I’m here” left his lips, though what they meant or how they would help, he didn’t know.
And yet, Jada’s shoulders seemed to relax. She drew in a breath, though her hand remained in front of her face. “I want you to understand,” she said at length. “But it’s difficult for me to talk about.”
“Is there anything that would make it easier? What about writing it down?”
“That…” She paused to consider it. “That might work. But you’d have to read it away from me.”
“Whatever you want.”
That made her look quickly up at him, but Merlin couldn’t read the look in her eyes. At last, she gave a small nod, an even smaller smile appearing on her lips. “Thank you,” she said quietly.
He gave her a reassuring smile. “It’s no problem. Now, I think we should head out on our trip tonight. I’m sure they’d let you spend the night there, and then you can ask them about everything in the morning. And I can get there and back again without anyone even noticing I’m gone.”
She turned to lean with her back against the wall, folding her arms across her chest with an unhappy set to her mouth. “I don’t know… I don’t like the idea of you wandering around by yourself in the dark. If it’s too dangerous for me to go alone in the daylight, I think it’s definitely too dangerous for you to come back alone at night.”
He tried to reassure her with an easy grin and a tilt of his head. “I’ll be fine.”
Jada fixed him with that determined stare. “No, Merlin.”
“It’s easier to sneak out at night. It’ll be hours before anyone even notices we’re gone, at least.”
There was a pause that caused a line to appear between Jada’s brows. “Then you stay,” she said at last. “We go tonight, and you stay there with me until the morning.”
He’d be late for work. Again. But Arthur was definitely getting used to that by now, and staying with Jada had been what Merlin had initially wanted. He was just about to agree, when she cut him off.
“No, I changed my mind.”
“But if that’s the best way…” he protested.
“Stay with me longer.”
It was odd—she’d only looked up at him, a completely normal action—but at the sight of her eyes, a part of Merlin had instantly melted. He’d stay with her as long as she liked, the part said. He’d stay anywhere, if Jada was with him.
Another part of him, this one somewhere in his mind as opposed to his chest, warned that that was dangerous thinking. Perhaps she really had enchanted him, after all.
“I want you to hear what they say,” Jada continued. “That way you’ll know that I’m not lying.”
He felt himself deflate. “Jada…”
“I know, I know,” she said, raising a hand to stop him. “But I need to prove this. At the very least, you can be my witness for when I explain it all to Gaius.”
Merlin hesitated, then nodded in agreement. “All right.”
“You’re sure that’s okay? You don’t have to agree if you don’t want to. You’ll probably have to miss a day of work, at least.”
He waved her off. “Arthur’s used to it. I regularly just don’t show up because I’m busy doing something else. He’ll insult me and then move on.”
One side of her mouth pulled upwards, though it wasn’t into a smile. “I don’t like putting you in this position. We can try and figure something else out, if-”
“No.”
She blanched, pulling up short. “No?”
Merlin couldn’t help his smile. “No. Now I’m putting my foot down. We’ve debated enough, let’s just go. Whatever we have to face when we come back, we’ll face then.”
“You’re sure?” She didn’t look convinced.
His smile widened into a grin, and he shook his head at her teasingly. “You worry too much.”
It had the desired effect, and gave Jada a smile too, though she shook her head at him, now. “That’s because you just throw caution to the wind and do whatever idea takes your fancy.”
“Not all the time,” he argued jovially. “But I’ve got to take these plates down to the kitchen and get back to Arthur, before he starts to wonder where I’ve got to. I’ll see you tonight, if not before.”
“Yeah,” Jada replied, nodding with a fond smile. “See you tonight.”
Gaius was less than impressed about their new plan when Merlin returned for supper, and had no qualms about telling Merlin as such. But Merlin refused to be swayed and re-packed his things, ready for Jada to arrive.
When he did open the door to her she looked a little pale and wide-eyed, and Merlin was just about to ask if anything was wrong when she thrust a folded piece of parchment towards him.
Merlin frowned at it before taking it from her, shooting her a questioning look. “What’s this?”
“Don’t open it now,” Jada replied. “I wrote it down. Like you said. Please don’t read it when I’m around.”
Merlin’s expression changed instantly, his frown lifting and his mouth making a little ‘O’. “Oh. Right. Yeah, of course. Whatever you want.”
He tucked the letter in his inside pocket, flashing her a smile he hoped was comforting. “Thank you.”
Jada nodded, although she looked as though she had half a mind to reach into his pocket, take the letter back, and rip it up before he had even the chance of reading it. In the next instant, Merlin thought she wanted to cry.
“Do you want to come in?” he said softly, wondering just what was in the letter he now carried. “We don’t have to go right away, if you don’t want.”
Her eyes glanced past him into Gaius’ room, but then she shook her head. “No. Let’s just go, please.”
Merlin gave a nod, turning back into the room to pick up his bags off the table and cast a farewell towards the adults sat at it. “I’ll see you soon, Mother. Goodbye, Gaius.”
“Be careful,” his mother replied, rising to press a kiss to his forehead.
“Very careful,” Gaius warned, his voice as grave as his features.
Merlin refrained from rolling his eyes, instead giving them both a teasing smile. “I always am; you know me.”
He heard Gaius’ sigh, but was already heading for the door and didn’t turn back for it.
“Are you ready?” he asked Jada as he shut the door behind him.
She gave a solemn nod, drawing in a breath. “Ready.”
Chapter 58 ->
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Chapter 56: Questions
Masterlist
<- Chapter 55
It felt uncomfortable, being at odds with Merlin. Disjointed. Unnatural. There was no way that Jada could explain it without sounding completely mad, but it almost felt as though her insides were just slightly out of place—not painfully so, but something like a jigsaw that hadn’t had all its pieces pushed into place properly. They weren’t in the wrong places, exactly, they were just… untidy. Uncomfortable.
But she couldn’t make up with him yet, as much as she may have wanted to. She’d done that too many times, fallen for too many lines, only to end up right back in the same place a few weeks later. She wasn’t going to end up like that again.
It hurt, though. She’d thought Merlin had been different. Maybe it was her, maybe she really was untrustworthy. After all, she’d… she’d…
What had she done wrong, exactly?
Maybe she shouldn’t have lied about whose life Nimueh had really wanted. Perhaps if Merlin had known the truth, things would have been different. But she still wasn’t sure he wouldn’t have tried to give his life to get her home—especially now, after trying to give his life to save almost everybody else around him.
Maybe she had made the wrong decision there, but she still stood by it. And every other situation that had caused Merlin to question her motives had been out of her control. She still didn’t know what had prompted the dragon to distrust her, and Nimueh deciding to bring up the deal that Jada had very clearly rejected once more was certainly not something she could have prevented.
The only thing she couldn’t dismiss so easily was the magic.
Jada was certain she’d never done anything of the sort before. Certain of it. And she’d definitely spent enough time as a child trying to control the weather, or find some fairies, or levitate her toys across the room. Surely at some point she would have noticed some actual, real-life magic happening?
Unless she had only had it since crossing dimensions. But even then, they’d been in enough dangerous situations to warrant her apparent powers making an appearance. Why hadn’t they shown up when she’d thought Merlin was going to be mauled by the griffin? It had been almost the same situation then as it had at the Isle, with Merlin on the ground and a magical threat getting closer and closer to him by the second.
Had Nimueh’s own magic caused it? When she’d hit Jada with a fireball, had whatever it was that followed been the catalyst for her powers to reveal themselves? Maybe they weren’t even her powers, Jada thought. Maybe she’d somehow absorbed Nimueh’s flames and sent them roaring back to her, like some kind of human conductor for magical fire. Although that would still imply some kind of magical ability on her behalf. But did she have to be under attack to use it?
The questions had plagued her all the way up until she’d fallen asleep, and then returned promptly the moment she’d begun to come to in the morning. She was determined to find answers for them—for the sake of her own sanity mostly, but having a solid answer for Gaius’ suspicious glances would certainly be welcome—and there was only one place she could think of that might have some information on the matter.
“Geoffrey?” she called the moment she stepped into the library.
The man in question was almost hidden behind two large piles of books on his desk, but peeked out from behind them at the sound of his name.
“Ah, Jada,” he greeted with a smile. “I was just reorganising the botany section. What can I do for you?”
“Well, I was reading this book,” Jada lied, “And in it, the writer mentions some… being, I suppose, that somehow manages to survive being hit with a magical fireball.” She leant her arm carefully on one of the stacks, wrinkling her nose a little. “It didn’t sound very realistic to me, but it got me wondering whether there’s any kind of records of such a power. Is it possible for anything to survive being basically set on fire?”
“Well, before the time of the Purge, there were a great many creatures of magic,” Geoffrey explained. “Some of them were thought to be tied more closely to the element of fire than was usual, so I’d imagine many of them would be impervious to it, yes. What manner of creature was it, in your book?”
She didn’t particularly like being referred to as a ‘creature’, but Jada tried not to let it show. “A human, I think. Or, at least, it was human shaped.”
Human-shaped. Now that sounded like a lot of the urban legends she’d read at home. Nevertheless, it seemed to give Geoffrey more puzzlement than fear, as his bushy brows frowned low over his eyes.
“Human shaped…” he repeated. “Hmm, now that does make it more difficult. Perhaps…”
In a moment, he’d turned on his heel and headed off between the bookshelves, signalling for Jada to follow him. She did so, careful not to knock any heaps over or disrupt Geoffrey’s chaotic-looking organisation.
“How tall were they? This creature,” he asked over his shoulder.
“I dunno, like five-nine?” Jada replied, but quickly tried to rectify her answer at Geoffrey’s frown. “Normal human-sized, I guess.”
“Hmm. Not a fire giant, then?”
“Probably not, no.”
He hummed thoughtfully, continuing on his mission, before suddenly halting and turning to Jada. “It wasn’t Brighid, was it?”
Jada frowned. “Brighid?”
“Yes. In the days of the Old Religion, she was revered as goddess of the hearth, among other things. In the beginning of spring, the woman of the house would invite her into the home, and then the ashes in the hearth would be checked for any sign that Brighid had visited.”
“I… I don’t think this being was a goddess.” That was a frightening thought. She couldn’t even keep control over her own life, never mind managing the prayers and pleas of countless others.
“No?” Another hum, as he turned back and started walking again. “A human-sized creature, impervious to fire, and able to at least wear the face of a regular human…”
Jada wished he would phrase things a little less terrifyingly.
“I’m afraid I’m running out of suggestions,” he said. “But here is the small section of information we have on creatures tied to a particular element. The ones in discussion of fire should start from that third shelf there.”
Jada followed his pointing finger to a rather dusty shelf filled with aging books. “Oh, okay. Thank you.”
Geoffrey gave a smile and nodded, then shuffled away again through the shelving.
She blew out a breath as she turned her back to him, eyeing the books and already feeling exhausted. But she had to know what was going on with her, so there was nothing else for it. She pulled the first book off the shelf and settled into the corner on the floor.
She was beginning to feel as though her eyes were burning as she closed another book, no closer to the answers she needed. At some point Geoffrey had brought her a candle, but the flickering light was not the greatest help in the growing dimness. Oh, what she’d give for some electricity.
The books had contained a vast amount of useless knowledge, really—at least in regards to Jada’s current situation. There had been lots of information about dragons and drakes and salamanders, about fire giants and will-o’-the-wisps and Jack-O’-Lanterns, and even some pages about firebirds and phoenixes—which were apparently different creatures entirely, much to Jada’s surprise. But there was nothing about people; regular, ordinary people, who could just so happen to survive being hit by a ball of fire and ignite a small inferno at will.
With a defeated sigh, she slumped her head back against the shelving, letting her current book fall into her lap. This was impossible. But there had to be some explanation, somewhere. Didn’t there?
If only there was someone she could ask, she found herself wishing. Someone to whom she could tell exactly what had happened, someone who would be able to answer all her questions. She couldn’t be honest with Geoffrey, no matter how knowledgeable he seemed. Merlin didn’t know any better than she did, and Gaius…
She wasn’t sure she trusted Gaius to tell her everything he knew, especially with the suspicion he’d developed for her recently. Jada was certain he would see no wrong in holding information back, should he see fit, and that information could make a world of difference to her.
So who could she turn to, then? Who would listen to her without judgment and had the knowledge to answer her questions? Who had experience in dealing with frightened, confused possible-sorcerers, and figuring out how to help them?
It was then that she remembered Morgo, and her conversation with his guardian in the forest. Both Morgo and the other boy—Mordred, she reminded herself, forcing herself to attach the feared name to the silent, frightened child they’d rescued—both of them had been taken in by the Druids once they’d shown extraordinary powers. Morgo’s had been the ability to see the future, and Mordred’s…
Jada only now realised that she had never learnt what Mordred’s talent had been. Had he even shown any magic whilst he’d been in Camelot? What was his extraordinary gift? The lack of answers concerning him made her uneasy.
But now was not the time to dwell on Mordred. If the Druids were used to dealing with surprising abilities, then perhaps they could help her. Perhaps they’d be able to figure out what she was, and then they could all rest easier at night knowing she wasn’t about to explode in a fiery inferno or reduce the castle to ash with a single swell of rage. Maybe it would even convince Gaius she wasn’t secretly a powerful sorceress out for Merlin’s blood.
She hoped the Druids could still be found where she’d seen them last. And that nobody in Camelot would notice her sudden absence. Maybe she should make up a story of some sort, just in case. She’d tell Merlin the truth, of course. That way at least someone would know where she was if anything happened. But the journey itself she’d have to undertake alone.
Once she had set the books back into their proper places, Jada headed for Gaius and Merlin’s quarters. She wasn’t sure whether she wanted to tell Gaius, now that her mind was made up, as she didn’t think there was anything he could say that would help her. She had faith she could find the camp on her own so didn’t need to ask him about that, and she was more than a little wary that he would try to talk her out of it entirely, which would only result in another argument.
She was tired of defending herself.
Usually, she would have given a brief knock as she entered the physician’s quarters, just as everybody else in the castle seemed to do. Gaius’ door wasn’t one that was regularly waited at, and it must have seemed strange to whoever was on the other side when nobody entered after Jada’s knock this time.
But she couldn’t bring herself to just walk in any more. She couldn’t guess at whether or not she’d be a welcome presence among them. Better to wait, she decided, at least until the air had begun to clear.
She heard the scrape of a stool after several long seconds, and then footsteps against stone growing louder as they approached the door. Then, the latch lifted, the door creaked open, and Merlin’s expression turned first to surprise, then delight.
“Jada,” he greeted, far softer than she had expected. She couldn’t tell if she was imagining the hint of relief in his voice.
“I wanted to talk to you,” she replied. “Are you busy?”
He looked back over his shoulder, and his distraction allowed the door to open just wide enough that Jada could see a glimpse of the room behind him under his arm. Hunith and Gaius were seated at the table, bowls in front of them, and suddenly Jada realised that she must have lost track of time in the library completely.
“Is it tea time?” she realised. “If you’re eating, I can come back later. I’m sorry, I didn’t realise it was so late.”
She was already turning away, but Merlin jolted and took a step forward, one hand reaching out towards her. “No, no, it’s fine,” he assured. “I can spare a few minutes.”
“Are you sure?” Jada asked, having halted mid-turn. “I’m sure you don’t want your food to go cold.”
Merlin smiled, a soft, bright thing that Jada was starting to realise didn’t seem to appear for many other people. He stepped into the hallway, beginning to shut the door behind him. “I’m sure.”
“I’m-”—She put her hand out towards the door, signalling him to stop—“Not sure we should do this here.”
She couldn’t help the glance she sent up and down the hallway, but it changed Merlin’s expression to something more serious. A slight crease appeared between his brows. “Is everything all right?”
She didn’t quite know how to answer, unsure whether or not their current situation passed as ‘all right’. Her deliberation must have lasted too long, as Merlin’s frown deepened, his mouth set in an unhappy shape.
“My room?” he suggested, and there was no relief or joy in his voice anymore.
Jada gave a small nod. “Do you mind?”
Already spinning on his heel, he raised a hand to push the door open again. “Not at all.”
He held the door open for her as she passed inside, heading for his room and doing her best to ignore the urge to shrink away from the gazes of Gaius and Hunith. She didn’t know what she was so ashamed of, Jada admitted, but whatever it was made her want to hide away at the edges of the room, not walk with purpose right through the centre.
She heard Merlin coming after her but couldn’t decide whether she should let him pass her and go into his room first, or whether she should just keep walking and get out of sight as quickly as possible.
She was still caught in indecision when she felt a hand at her back. The touch was soft—barely there at all, really—but somehow it seemed to reduce Jada’s level of panic as her attention turned to it.
She knew it was Merlin without turning to look, his long legs carrying him faster across the room than she’d been able to move, and he’d probably thought nothing of the simple guiding hand against her back. Even Jada couldn’t explain why having him there, knowing he was between her and the rest of the room as she reached the bottom of the stairs, made her feel so much safer, so much calmer.
The panic seemed to subside completely when Merlin shut the door to his room.
“Are you all right?” he asked as he turned back to face her, worry in every line of his face.
It was strange how much quieter Merlin’s room seemed, Jada thought. Even though no-one had said anything downstairs, it had made her feel like she couldn’t think, as though the very air was closing in on her and turning her thoughts into a cacophony of noise. She supposed that was where the term ‘deafening silence’ came from.
“Yeah,” she breathed, after realising her silence wasn’t easing Merlin’s worry. In an attempt to clear her head, she shook it gently, but that only seemed to encourage a dull throb to spring up. She put her hand to her forehead, shutting her eyes. “I have a headache.”
There was a beat of silence. Then, “You… a headache?”
Jada opened her eyes to look at him in confusion, but seeing his face made her suddenly realise what had happened. “Oh, no,” she said with a breathless laugh. “That wasn’t why I came here.”
Merlin inched closer, the flabbergasted look now being replaced by concern again. “Then tell me what is wrong.”
His voice was gentle, his eyes encouraging, and for a second Jada appreciated just how ready he was to help her at the first hint of trouble. Then, she reached out and set a gentle hand on his arm. “Nothing’s wrong. Not really. It’s okay, relax.”
He didn’t, instead growing more confused. “I don’t understand.”
“My fault.” She tried for a laugh, but it made her head suddenly feel unnervingly light. “Can I sit down? Feel a bit dizzy.”
“Of course,” Merlin said immediately, hurrying forward to guide her into the chair set beside his little table. He crouched down beside her, his worried face filling her vision, and Jada had to concentrate hard on not letting the blueness of his eyes distract her completely.
“I’m sorry about this,” she said. “Really don’t know where it’s come from.”
“Do you need some water?” He lifted a hand to her forehead, pressing it gently against her skin, and Jada-
Oh. Oh, God. Yeah, she was really going to have trouble coming back from that one, she realised.
In some terrible lapse of judgment, Jada had shut her eyes and leant into his touch, even letting out a soft sigh as she did so. She could perhaps hope he hadn’t heard the sigh—maybe she’d get away with that part—but there was no way he hadn’t seen the movement, not at this distance-
Merlin was staring at her with eyes just as wide as her own felt, frozen in place with his hand still against her head. Then, suddenly, he yanked his hand away, his face bursting into the most unfairly adorable crimson Jada had ever seen.
“Um… uh…” he stammered, as Jada could do nothing but stare at him in shock. “Er… Water!”
He shot to his feet and hurried over to the crate he’d fashioned into a bedside table, rushing to pour some water from the pitcher there into a cup. His haste was too great, however, and he poured too quickly, splashing the water over the rim and all over his hand.
“Sorry!” he blurted, as though it wasn’t his own hand and cup and furniture he’d soaked.
God, Jada thought. God, he was cute.
Merlin hurried back to her with the dripping cup, offering it to her with an unsteady hand. She took it, trying unsuccessfully to not touch his fingers as she did so, and then Merlin sat down on the end of his bed. His body may have faced her, but his eyes were on the floor.
“I’m sorry,” Jada said, once he’d settled slightly and her own embarrassment wasn’t quite as nauseating. “I don’t… I don’t know what that was. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Sorry.”
Merlin seemed to attempt a response, but the mumbled sounds he emitted didn’t sound to Jada like real words for several seconds. “I just… wasn’t expecting it,” he managed eventually.
“I…” She wasn’t sure what she’d planned to say next, or if there had even been any plan at all. After a moment, she finished lamely, “I’m sorry.”
She risked a glance at him, only to find him already awkwardly looking at her, and God, he was so pretty. Jada forced her gaze back to the floor.
“I came to tell you I was going to look for the Druids,” she said in a rush. “I figured they’d hopefully be able to tell me what’s going on.”
When she looked back up at Merlin, he gave a nod, a determined set creeping into his brows. “I’ll come with you.”
“No, Merlin. People will notice you’re gone faster than they will me. You’ll have to stay here.”
His frown deepened. “I’m not letting you go on your own.”
Jada hesitated. “…Letting me?”
There must have been something in her tone, or perhaps it was her face, that betrayed her, because Merlin’s face softened. “That isn’t what I meant.” He looked down, picking at the nail of one thumb with the other for a moment. “I just meant that… I don’t want you to get hurt. I’d rather be there and know that if anything happened, I could protect you.”
She ran her thumbnail over the curve of the cup, not quite convinced yet. On the one hand, she could admit to herself that she did secretly want Merlin to come with her. But on the other… “Arthur will notice you’re gone the very first day.”
“I’ll make something up,” he said easily. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”
“What if he comes looking for you?”
“He’ll probably only check in here and then give up. I’ll ask Gaius to tell him I’m gathering herbs, or something.”
Jada looked up at him, noting the hint of shadow still under his eyes. “What about your mother? You can’t go running off with me while she’s here. You should look after her.”
“My mother is as healthy as she’s ever been,” he said with a smile. “The curse had lifted completely before we’d even arrived back. And I can almost guarantee that if we asked her, she’d send me with you. She’d probably give me such a lecture if I let you go alone.”
Jada sighed, unsure how she was supposed to win this one, and again Merlin softened. “Please, Jada. If you don’t want me to stay while you’re there, that’s fine. But at least let me make sure you get there safely. I’ll come home again straight away, if that’s what you want me to do. I promise.”
She was still unconvinced, though she wasn’t entirely sure what it was that made her want to do it on her own so badly. On the other hand, she thought to herself, if Merlin was there to witness whatever the Druids told her, then he’d know Jada wasn’t making it up. He’d know she wasn’t lying. Even Gaius might be convinced, then.
At length, she gave a nod. “All right. But if it takes longer than a day, you’re coming straight back to Camelot, okay? No arguing.”
The corners of Merlin’s mouth quirked into a relieved smile, before it vanished again just as suddenly. “If that’s what you want.”
Another nod. “Tomorrow, then?”
She wasn’t sure whether she’d meant it to be a question or a statement, but she found herself waiting for Merlin’s confirmation all the same as she rose to her feet.
“Tomorrow, then,” he replied.
Jada headed for the door, setting the cup of water down on her way out, but she hadn’t quite made it before Merlin’s voice made her halt.
“Jada?” He had risen, too, when she turned back to him. “Thank you.”
She gave a nod, then headed back down the stairs, past Hunith and Gaius tidying up their dinner, and out.
Chapter 57 ->
Always a little bit concerning when you put in a request for a doctor's appointment bc they have no slots left online and they call you an hour later to be like "do you want us to see you in an hour" 😅👀
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