Chapter Thirteen ❥ 𝙸𝚏 𝙸 𝙳𝚒𝚎 𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚐

♔

"What's wrong with her?" Arthur's grieved shout rebounded across the chamber walls, startling the current occupants.

Gaius sent the Prince a deep look of sympathy, as the young man stood in his distraught state, staring down at Zipporah's unconscious body.

"I cannot be sure, Sire," he answered him truthfully, wishing that he had more answers. "Her entire body seems to have closed down."

"Why?" Asked Uther, who was sat at his wife's bedside, holding onto her cold hand. "You don't have an answer do you? Nothing you've tried so far has worked. It's been nearly two days. And what do you know?"

Gaius remained calm at the King's outburst, he understood that it was a highly distressing time for him, and for them all. It was not easy for Gaius himself, to treat and look upon the dying frame of the girl he considered as a daughter.

"I fear she may have some form of inflammation of the brain," the Physician informed them sadly.

Uther's worry increased, as did Arthur's.

The former asked, "what could cause such a thing?"

"An infection, possibly," replied Gaius. "Rest assured, I will do everything in my power to cure her, Sire."

In a surge of anxiety and fear, Arthur barked, "but what if you can't? What if your treatments don't work!"

Gaius inhaled sharply, not wanting to entertain the terrifying notion for a even a second.

"I will deliver the best of my skills to come up with something, Sire. The Queen means a lot to me also, I shall not rest until I find something that will heal her."

Arthur glanced at the old man, still locked firmly in his fear. "You've got to, Gaius! She has to be alright- she- she has to be!"

Gaius nodded in understanding, then bowed his head to the both of them before taking his leave, exiting out the small door that the servants used.

As he walked down the staircase, he crossed paths with Gwen, who almost dropped the cloths she was holding, to grip his hand.

"How is she?" She asked hurriedly. "Is she any better?"

In reply, Gaius shook his head, causing Gwen's lip to tremble as she ran up the remaining stairs, tears pooling her dark eyes.

Gaius sighed sadly as he descended the last of the steps, meeting Merlin on the landing, who looked as if he hadn't gotten any sleep in years.

"Is there really no sign of improvement?" He inquired, a faint string of hope woven into his words, at the possibility that there could be a better alternative.

Gaius, however, shook his head again.

With great sorrow, he admitted, "she's all but dead, Merlin."

As the dreaded declaration hit his ears, Merlin shook his head in frantic denial, his heart clenching with grief and terror at the agonising thought of losing his dearest friend.

"No. No. You're going to cure her. You have to."

"Don't you start," Gaius berated with slight exasperation. "I've tried everything."

The wheels turning in his head, Merlin's eyes sparked with an idea. This prompted him to say, "I was wondering..."

Gaius eyes him with a knowing suspicion. "What?"

"Maybe I could...help...?" Merlin raised his eyebrows pointedly to emphasise his meaning.

Gaius gave him a disapproving look.
"If you're suggesting magic...have you forgotten what happened with Gwen's father? This is not a magical illness, it must be cured by conventional means. We keep trying. See if you can find me some fresh rosemary."

Yet, Merlin was not going to let the thought go so easily.

"There must be something more I can do," he persisted desperately. "Zipporah has done so much for me, she's risked a lot for me, she's kept my secret too. She is always there for me. She is one of the only things in this world that I care about and I can't just stand by and do nothing!"

Gaius' eyes softened, realising the depths of the hard effect that the circumstance was having on the young Warlock.

Placing a hand on his shoulder, he said to him with deep compassion, "I know that this is hard for you. I know how much you care for Zipporah, and it pains me just as much as you to see her in this way. But, please, trust me when I tell you that magic must be kept out of this. It is for her safety as much as yours."

Understanding the importance of the man's reasoning, Merlin reluctantly accepted the argument, not wanting to put Zipporah in an any worse state.

In a worried yet determined voice, Merlin said, "we have got to help her. There has to be a way."

♔

Later that evening, Arthur sat on a chair in his chambers, staring holes into the flames of the fireplace, his entire body completely still with a solid tension.

He huffed for what must have been the thousandth time when he heard the patter of feet behind him, going back and forth in the same, continuous cycle.

The owner of those feet piped up in quick ramblings, "it's gonna be alright. It is. I know it is. She's going to be absolutely fine-"

"Merlin," interrupted Arthur, his tone highly irritated.

"What?"

Arthur drawled out, "you're making me anxious," as if he wasn't already.

"But I'm not worried," denied Merlin, neither one of them believing him.

"Then stop pacing."

Merlin did as instructed, sitting down at the table, but it didn't take long for his behaviour to start annoying Arthur again, for he began tapping his fingers rapidly on the wooden table.

Arthur stood up from his seat and then began pacing himself, with each step trying to rid himself of the terror that he felt.

Observing his distressed manner, in the hopes of trying to reassure him, Merlin spoke, "she will be alright. She will recover."

"You don't know that!" Arthur snapped, spinning around on the spot, eyes ablaze with fright. "None of us know that!"

In his angered fret, Arthur picked up the closest object within his reach, which turned out be an apple from the fruit bowl, and hurled it across the room, causing Merlin to duck instinctively.

Arthur rung his hands through his hair, pulling on the golden strands so tightly, that they could have easily have fallen out.

His mind was a frenzy of anxiety and pure fear, tormented by the horrifying possibility of loosing the love of his life. He had been sitting at her side the whole day, refusing to move, and under his close observation, he had seen that Zipporah was only getting worse by the minute.

Arthur let out a heavy breath, slowing his feet to a still. He glanced at Merlin, to find his servant watching him with concern.

"I'm sorry," he apologised quietly, feeling a little guilty for biting his head off.

"No, no it's okay," assured Merlin, "I understand."

Allowing his true vulnerability to show, Arthur confessed, "she can't die, Merlin. If I loose her, I loose everything. Being a Prince of Camelot, becoming King...all of it means nothing."

He paused to let out a shaky breath, the flames from the fireplace highlighting the shining tears that brimmed his sunken eyes.

"Because without Zipporah, my life looses all meaning."

♔

The sun streaked in through the open windows, the warmth of the afternoon hitting Zipporah's cold frame in a bright contrast.

Slim fingers intertwined with her own, and Morgana shivered when she felt how lifeless her friend's hand felt. The Lady had been watching her for hours, forcing Arthur to leave after the morning to watch, to get some rest. She knew that otherwise, he would be glued to her side and in turn, would only make himself ill with exhaustion.

Morgana squeezed onto Zipporah's hand, wishing that she would feel her touch and awaken from her deadly slumber.

Morgana's head turned to the servant's entrance when she heard the door creak open, relaxing when she saw the sad face of Gwen.

Seeing the silent question that the maid was emulating, Morgana told her, "she's not improving, she's only getting worse."

Gwen's heart raced with trepidation at the worrisome news, rushing forwards over to the bed. "I don't know what to do. I wish I could help her, but I don't know how. I feel so-so.."

"Useless?" Supplied Morgana with a humourless titter. "Yes, me too. It's awful, watching her deteriorate. It seems surreal, like it's not really happening."

Gwen nodded in understanding, as burning tears trickled down her cheeks.

"She can't go," Gwen blubbered out, "she can't."

Morgana used her free hand to hold Gwen's, her own tears beginning pour out.

"I know."

In that precise moment, the main doors to the chambers opened and Uther hurried in, followed by Gaius, his face a picture of anxiety.

Before he could voice his thoughts, Morgana informed, "she is no better."

Uther made a loud sound of frustration and twisted his hands into tight fists, pacing the floor near the bed.

Gaius moved over to examine Zipporah, his heart clenching when he realised the severity of her condition. After he had completed his assessment, he stepped back and beheld all three of them with a despairing expression.

"I cannot preserve her life for much longer. She has hours, maybe less."

A wave of grief passed over the room, invading into each of their hearts, impacting upon them how close they all were to loosing her.

Morgana shook her head in refusal, not wanting to even think that it could be true. She clapped Zipporah's hand tighter, gripping onto the hem of her sleeve. Yet, when she did, she inadvertently pushed up the thin piece of white material, showing the dark skin of her arm.

Looking down, Morgana's glistening eyes widened at what she saw.

Large bruises were patterned on Zipporah's arm, fusing together in an awful combination of blue and purple.

"What on earth?" She whispered in shock, rolling up the sleeve further, to find even more littered on Zipporah's skin.

Hearing the quite exclamation of her Lady, Gwen peered down over her shoulder, gasping when she noticed the marks.

Their actions warranted Uther's curiosity, causing him to stand closer to the bed, his own eyes growing large at the sight. However, this was not in a reaction of shock, oh no, but one of selfish anxiety.

"Gaius, what are they?" Asked Morgana in concern, tracing her pale fingers along the bruises.

Before the Physician had the chance to speak, Uther jumped in, eager to conjure up an excuse.

His demeanour suddenly grew shifty, as he tried his best to appear indifferent.

"I suspect it's another effect of the illness," he mused, lacing his voice with feigned ignorance.

Gaius did not utter an argument or protest, although he wanted to. Instead, he looked to Zipporah, his eyes sad as they drifted over to the prominent bruises. Then, he transfigured his gaze over to Uther, a subtle anger hiding behind the conditioned formality of his manner, knowing full well, that no disease was responsible.

Gwen and Morgana glanced at each other, then at Uther, their eyes narrowed with suspicion. Neither of them fully believed the reasoning he gave. Deep down, they longed that their fear of the only other alternative, was not true.

"How is she?"

The commanding voice of Arthur disturbed the uncomfortable silence that had accumulated, as he burst into the room, heading straight to stand by Zipporah's side.

Gaius relayed to him the same thing he had told Uther, leaving Arthur full of dread and desperation.

"WE CANNOT LET HER DIE!" He bellowed, his eyes illuminated with mourning.

Uther sighed at his outburst, not appreciating the extra tension he was creating. "Arthur, please."

Only hesitating for a split second, Arthur exclaimed, "there's a man, he came to the castle yesterday. He claims he can cure her."

"That's ridiculous," denied Uther. "He doesn't know what's wrong with her."

"He says he has a remedy that can cure all ills."

Gaius instantly snapped into a state of alert at Arthur's declaration. "Impossible."

"For Zipporah's sake, we should at least hear him out!" Insisted Arthur, prepared to go to any lengths if it meant saving his love. "We having got anything to loose! Please, Father!"

Worried by the convenience of the appearance of the mysterious man, Gaius stepped closer to Uther, lowering his voice to avoid Arthur from hearing.

"Probably some charlatan hoping for a quick shilling."

However, Arthur heard him and was highly displeased by the comment.

"I don't care! If she is about to die, we should be willing to anything to save her!" Arthur shouted heatedly. "Give the man his shilling! If there's one chance in a million he can save her, then why not?"

Uther pondered his son's argument, glancing back to his wife's dying form.

"Send for him."

♔

As ordered by the King, the man who claimed to be able to heal Zipporah, was tracked down and brought to the castle. Edwin was his name. He had been granted approval to treat the ill Queen, with the whole palace desperate for her to survive.

As Edwin prepared and readied his equipment, using the services of Merlin to assist him in bringing it over to Zipporah's chambers, Arthur seized the opportunity to spend as much time as he could with her. Not knowing if each second, would be their last together.

Arthur sat on the soft bed, her slim hands enveloped in his masculine ones, the stark contrast making them appear more frail than ever. He held onto their adjoined hands with a firm grip, clutching them tightly to his chest, never wanting to let go.

His intense gaze ran all over her face, covering every inch, memorising each single, beautiful feature. A single tear fell from his orbs of blue, coated in yearning pleadings for her to pull through.

Regardless of all his heart-felt hopes, Zipporah's eyes remained firmly shut, her skin still carried the sickly, grey tint. Her body lingered in its almost, lifeless appearance.

Arthur's heart wrenched with tormented sobs that he refused to unleash. He would not admit defeat. He would not give up. He would not allow his worst fear to become a reality.

As a second tear ran down his face and dripped onto her hand, Arthur pressed his lips against her knuckle, tasting the wet salt of his own grief.

He lifted one of his hands away from hers, moving it to rest gently on her cheek, caressing her skin with his thumb.

"Come back to me, Zipporah."

His broken whisper carried a volume that supplanted any shout or roar.

The trembling of his usually, unwavering voice betrayed the mask of fortitude that he often wore.

The smaller door creaked open slowly, causing Arthur to hurriedly wipe away any trace of tears, and rise up from his perch on the bed, slapping on his mask once more.

He turned around to see Merlin walk in, carrying an assortment of equipment, before placing it down on a table. The man, Edwin appeared behind him, bowing to the Prince in greeting.

Approaching Arthur carefully, Edwin spoke up in his calm voice, "Sire, I would be grateful if you could leave the room. I require peace and privacy."

Arthur exchanged an unsure look with Merlin.

"I don't know...I'd prefer to stay, to make sure that she's okay, and to watch what you're doing."

Edwin smiled a little, but his eyes flashed with vexation.

"I admire and appreciate your frankness, Sire, and I understand your concerns," he complimented falsely. "However, in order to perform to treatment safely, I really must be left alone, without any distraction."

After serious consideration, Arthur relented, wanting to ensure that Zipporah got the best chance of being cured, as was possible.

"Very well," he told Edwin as he made to leave, stopping by the same, small door when he realised that his servant was still unmoving.

"Merlin."

The boy snapped his head around to Arthur, to see him give him a subtle nod to the door. Understanding the clear message, Merlin threw a last, worried glance to Zipporah, and a cautious one to Edwin, until he eventually followed Arthur out.

Once alone with Zipporah, a twisted, satisfied smile appeared on Edwin's pale lips. From the pockets of his grey robes, he pulled out a thin pair of tweezers and angled them towards her ear, hovering over her body.

He was about to push the tweezers into the opening of the ear drum, but halted when he felt another presence in the room.

He manoeuvred the top half of his body around to see Gwen peering through the other servant's door, watching him.

"Why are you spying on me?" He asked her, impatience replacing the calmness that had been there before.

"I wasn't. I'm her maidservant."

"Then bring me some water."

Gwen did not move, eyeing the mysterious man with suspicion. "Someone should be with her."

"Do you want to be responsible for her death?" Edwin countered.

"No. But-

"-Then you will bring me some water. Now. Or she may die."

Gwen frowned at his angered tone, a growing dislike for him budding within her. She glanced at Zipporah, discomforted by the thought of leaving her alone with the man, but at the same time, she did not want to hinder her chances of survival.

Due to this concern, Gwen begrudgingly left, allowing Edwin to return his focus back to the task at hand.

Contended that he was finally, truly alone, he moved the tweezers into their correct position again, and slowly entered them into Zipporah's ear.

As he did so, he uttered a magical incantation, which enabled him to use the tweezers to pull out a black beetle. The tearing that the separation of the bug and the skin had caused, sparked her ear to start bleeding a little. Edwin took out a small life of cloth and soaked up the drops of crimson, smiling with pride at his handiwork.

"I'm sorry I had to do this you, My Queen," he apologised with false sincerity. "But, desperate times call for desperate measures."

♔

💜 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 💜