She held up a hand, slowly, and a tiny flame grew in it, grew and hovered, then dwindled away. “That’s how I avoid them. The … energy has to go somewhere. There’s no avoiding it.” Closing her hand, she struggled to sit up. “Thank you.”
He nodded in understanding and helped her sit up. I didn’t really do very much, he shrugged once she was in a sitting position. May I ask what your name is?
“Summer. Summer Rainault. And you brought me in off the street. I’d say that deserves some thanks.” Her limbs still ached, but it was starting to fade, though the tension in her shoulders would take far longer to ease. Ending up in Camelot had not been part of the plan at all.
“I suppose I had better leave before your master comes back. Wouldn’t want to get you in trouble.”
It’s nice to meet you, Summer, he smiled. You don’t have to leave yet if you don’t want to. I can handle Gaius, and it’s not like either of us will turn you in. Besides, that was one heck of a landing. His smile fell and was replaced by a look of concern. What happened, anyway?
“Dragon.” Summer looked down into the palms of her hands. “Or something very like, anyway. I could barely touch it. I guess I must have chased it from our lands to the city without realising, we were so high.” She looked back at Merlin with a half-smile, pained and old-looking. “I tried to stop it.”
Court? He’d — Merlin — had brought her to the /court/? She was dead. She was dead and someone had forgotten to tell her. Summer rubbed at her face, muffling her next words. “Yes. Yes, they’re … normal. It’s … part of my magic. Part of the price.”
Merlin’s eyes widened in surprise. That is… That’s one heck of a price, he replied quietly. Is there any way to help ease them even a bit? Gaius would probably know, but…
She held up a hand, slowly, and a tiny flame grew in it, grew and hovered, then dwindled away. “That’s how I avoid them. The … energy has to go somewhere. There’s no avoiding it.” Closing her hand, she struggled to sit up. “Thank you.”
He nodded in understanding and helped her sit up. I didn’t really do very much, he shrugged once she was in a sitting position. May I ask what your name is?
“Summer. Summer Rainault. And you brought me in off the street. I’d say that deserves some thanks.” Her limbs still ached, but it was starting to fade, though the tension in her shoulders would take far longer to ease. Ending up in Camelot had not been part of the plan at all.
“I suppose I had better leave before your master comes back. Wouldn’t want to get you in trouble.”
Consciousness meant pain. Involuntarily Summer projected, fear / pain / resistance / negation, but even her own body was resisting the coma now, and slowly her eyes slipped open. A wholly unfamiliar face hovered over her, dark eyed and dark haired and sharp with bones. In fact, nothing at all was familiar, and a whimper escaped her.
Merlin shushed her gently and offered her a small smile. It’s okay. You’re safe, he assured Summer telepathically. I’m sorry if I scared you. I found you in the street and brought you here.
He wasn’t lying, she could tell that immediately. He believed she was safe, and he was speaking into her mind.
Magic.
He had magic too. And he was telling her she was safe.
Summer didn’t actually relax any, but the spasms softened, leaving her muscles aching. “Where am I?” she whispered. “Who are you?”
Oh, right. I’m Merlin, he introduced himself, and we’re in Gaius’ and my chambers. Gaius is the court physician, but unfortunately, he’s out at the moment. He shifted awkwardly before asking, Those muscle spasms, do you normally get those? I mean, they’re probably bad news whether you get them normally or not, but I figured I might as well ask.
Court? He’d — Merlin — had brought her to the /court/? She was dead. She was dead and someone had forgotten to tell her. Summer rubbed at her face, muffling her next words. “Yes. Yes, they’re … normal. It’s … part of my magic. Part of the price.”
Merlin’s eyes widened in surprise. That is… That’s one heck of a price, he replied quietly. Is there any way to help ease them even a bit? Gaius would probably know, but…
She held up a hand, slowly, and a tiny flame grew in it, grew and hovered, then dwindled away. “That’s how I avoid them. The … energy has to go somewhere. There’s no avoiding it.” Closing her hand, she struggled to sit up. “Thank you.”
Oddly, though her hands were swathed in fire, nothing /caught/ flame. Slowly, the flames sank into her skin, leaving behind nothing but a memory — and then a muscle in her back contracted, pulling her into an agonising arch for long moments before letting her go. Another cry was torn from her lips while she strained against the spasm, strained to reach the surface of consciousness.
Okay, Merlin, calm down. Now would NOT be a good time to start panicking. He was starting to think that he shouldn’t have asked her to put out her flames, but the fact that she had put them out at all hinted that she might be close to consciousness. Merlin placed his hands lightly on her arm and, remembering that heat was supposed to be good for muscles or something, tried to use magic to subtly transfer some heat from the fire in the grate more directly to the girl’s muscles. Please, wake up if you can hear me. I know it probably hurts, but I need to know that you will be able to wake up again.
Consciousness meant pain. Involuntarily Summer projected, fear / pain / resistance / negation, but even her own body was resisting the coma now, and slowly her eyes slipped open. A wholly unfamiliar face hovered over her, dark eyed and dark haired and sharp with bones. In fact, nothing at all was familiar, and a whimper escaped her.
Merlin shushed her gently and offered her a small smile. It’s okay. You’re safe, he assured Summer telepathically. I’m sorry if I scared you. I found you in the street and brought you here.
He wasn’t lying, she could tell that immediately. He believed she was safe, and he was speaking into her mind.
Magic.
He had magic too. And he was telling her she was safe.
Summer didn’t actually relax any, but the spasms softened, leaving her muscles aching. “Where am I?” she whispered. “Who are you?”
Oh, right. I’m Merlin, he introduced himself, and we’re in Gaius’ and my chambers. Gaius is the court physician, but unfortunately, he’s out at the moment. He shifted awkwardly before asking, Those muscle spasms, do you normally get those? I mean, they’re probably bad news whether you get them normally or not, but I figured I might as well ask.
Court? He’d — Merlin — had brought her to the /court/? She was dead. She was dead and someone had forgotten to tell her. Summer rubbed at her face, muffling her next words. “Yes. Yes, they’re … normal. It’s … part of my magic. Part of the price.”
Somewhere under the pain and fear, she recognised someone trying to help, and fought the muscle spasms even harder, sliding up through layers of unconsciousness. She couldn’t quite surface, though; just close enough that some of the emotional energy diverted into fire again, limning her fingers in flame.
He jumped back slightly at the sight of the fire. Um, I don’t know if you can hear me, but I need you to please put out the fire, he tried to tell her through telepathy. I really don’t want you to either get caught using magic or accidentally light the bed you’re laying in on fire. Biting his lip, Merlin tried to figure out what to do without panicking. He didn’t have enough control over his magic yet to risk any healing spells.
Oddly, though her hands were swathed in fire, nothing /caught/ flame. Slowly, the flames sank into her skin, leaving behind nothing but a memory — and then a muscle in her back contracted, pulling her into an agonising arch for long moments before letting her go. Another cry was torn from her lips while she strained against the spasm, strained to reach the surface of consciousness.
Okay, Merlin, calm down. Now would NOT be a good time to start panicking. He was starting to think that he shouldn’t have asked her to put out her flames, but the fact that she had put them out at all hinted that she might be close to consciousness. Merlin placed his hands lightly on her arm and, remembering that heat was supposed to be good for muscles or something, tried to use magic to subtly transfer some heat from the fire in the grate more directly to the girl’s muscles. Please, wake up if you can hear me. I know it probably hurts, but I need to know that you will be able to wake up again.
Consciousness meant pain. Involuntarily Summer projected, fear / pain / resistance / negation, but even her own body was resisting the coma now, and slowly her eyes slipped open. A wholly unfamiliar face hovered over her, dark eyed and dark haired and sharp with bones. In fact, nothing at all was familiar, and a whimper escaped her.
Merlin shushed her gently and offered her a small smile. It’s okay. You’re safe, he assured Summer telepathically. I’m sorry if I scared you. I found you in the street and brought you here.
He wasn’t lying, she could tell that immediately. He believed she was safe, and he was speaking into her mind.
Magic.
He had magic too. And he was telling her she was safe.
Summer didn’t actually relax any, but the spasms softened, leaving her muscles aching. “Where am I?” she whispered. “Who are you?”
iamthefirechild said: She didn’t want to wake up. Awake was pain, and flame, and trying to do far more than she’d ever been capable of on her best day. She cried out intermittently in unconsciousness, something in her still trying to resist the seizures.
Merlin cursed silently as he reached his and Gaius’ chambers and found a note from Gaius saying that he had to take care of an emergency for one of the visiting nobles. Even with the bits of training he’d had in medical care, he had no idea what to do about seizures. He prayed that Gaius wouldn’t take too long and checked to see if the girl had a concussion—unconsciousness was serious, after all.
Somewhere under the pain and fear, she recognised someone trying to help, and fought the muscle spasms even harder, sliding up through layers of unconsciousness. She couldn’t quite surface, though; just close enough that some of the emotional energy diverted into fire again, limning her fingers in flame.
He jumped back slightly at the sight of the fire. Um, I don’t know if you can hear me, but I need you to please put out the fire, he tried to tell her through telepathy. I really don’t want you to either get caught using magic or accidentally light the bed you’re laying in on fire. Biting his lip, Merlin tried to figure out what to do without panicking. He didn’t have enough control over his magic yet to risk any healing spells.
Oddly, though her hands were swathed in fire, nothing /caught/ flame. Slowly, the flames sank into her skin, leaving behind nothing but a memory — and then a muscle in her back contracted, pulling her into an agonising arch for long moments before letting her go. Another cry was torn from her lips while she strained against the spasm, strained to reach the surface of consciousness.
Okay, Merlin, calm down. Now would NOT be a good time to start panicking. He was starting to think that he shouldn’t have asked her to put out her flames, but the fact that she had put them out at all hinted that she might be close to consciousness. Merlin placed his hands lightly on her arm and, remembering that heat was supposed to be good for muscles or something, tried to use magic to subtly transfer some heat from the fire in the grate more directly to the girl’s muscles. Please, wake up if you can hear me. I know it probably hurts, but I need to know that you will be able to wake up again.
Consciousness meant pain. Involuntarily Summer projected, fear / pain / resistance / negation, but even her own body was resisting the coma now, and slowly her eyes slipped open. A wholly unfamiliar face hovered over her, dark eyed and dark haired and sharp with bones. In fact, nothing at all was familiar, and a whimper escaped her.
iamthefirechild said: She didn’t want to wake up. Awake was pain, and flame, and trying to do far more than she’d ever been capable of on her best day. She cried out intermittently in unconsciousness, something in her still trying to resist the seizures.
Merlin cursed silently as he reached his and Gaius’ chambers and found a note from Gaius saying that he had to take care of an emergency for one of the visiting nobles. Even with the bits of training he’d had in medical care, he had no idea what to do about seizures. He prayed that Gaius wouldn’t take too long and checked to see if the girl had a concussion—unconsciousness was serious, after all.
Somewhere under the pain and fear, she recognised someone trying to help, and fought the muscle spasms even harder, sliding up through layers of unconsciousness. She couldn’t quite surface, though; just close enough that some of the emotional energy diverted into fire again, limning her fingers in flame.
He jumped back slightly at the sight of the fire. Um, I don’t know if you can hear me, but I need you to please put out the fire, he tried to tell her through telepathy. I really don’t want you to either get caught using magic or accidentally light the bed you’re laying in on fire. Biting his lip, Merlin tried to figure out what to do without panicking. He didn’t have enough control over his magic yet to risk any healing spells.
Oddly, though her hands were swathed in fire, nothing /caught/ flame. Slowly, the flames sank into her skin, leaving behind nothing but a memory — and then a muscle in her back contracted, pulling her into an agonising arch for long moments before letting her go. Another cry was torn from her lips while she strained against the spasm, strained to reach the surface of consciousness.
Arthur looked over at Merlin and sighed. “Well, as you can see Merlin, I’ve been here.” He said crossing his arms. He turned to Summer. “Pardon him, he’s my manservant. An annoying one at that.”
Merlin shot Arthur a pointed look before straightening up, taking his leather-bound journal out of his pocket, and writing, ‘Sorry, I wasn’t expecting him to have company with him. My name is Merlin.’ He held his hand out to Summer for a handshake and mouthed to Arthur, “Your father threatened to throw me in the stocks if I didn’t find you immediately.”
Summer couldn’t help laughing at the byplay. She clasped Merlin’s hand quickly, bowing over it a little bit. “You have a mute manservant. I would say, is that so he can’t talk back to you, but I see he has managed that anyway.” She folded her arms. “Do you,” a quick shake of head, and she looked at Merlin, “does he need to go back to the citadel?”
He restrained himself from rolling his eyes. “Even though Merlin doesn’t speak, he’s still able to talk back at me. Trust me.” Arthur faced his manservant. “I doubt my father would go that far. Plus I did tell him I was going to be out for a while. I guess he forgot.”
‘Somebody has to talk back every once in a while. If I didn’t, who knows how big his ego would get?’ teased Merlin good-naturedly before shrugging. ‘It certainly wouldn’t be the first time he’s put me in the stocks for something like this, but maybe he did forget,’ he agreed. ‘He didn’t give me that much information.’ He was a bit sorry to be interrupting whatever was happening (mostly for Summer’s sake rather than Arthur’s), but the servant didn’t know what else to do, especially now that there seemed to have been a miscommunication between Arthur and Uther.
“Idris won’t mind if I come back in early, since the bandits. Better safe than sorry, he’ll say, and be right, as usual.” Summer checked over her basket before picking it back up, then smiled at the two men. “How lucky I am, such an escort! Two handsome fellows at my side. Even the Lady Morgana would envy me this day.”
iamthefirechild said: She didn’t want to wake up. Awake was pain, and flame, and trying to do far more than she’d ever been capable of on her best day. She cried out intermittently in unconsciousness, something in her still trying to resist the seizures.
Merlin cursed silently as he reached his and Gaius’ chambers and found a note from Gaius saying that he had to take care of an emergency for one of the visiting nobles. Even with the bits of training he’d had in medical care, he had no idea what to do about seizures. He prayed that Gaius wouldn’t take too long and checked to see if the girl had a concussion—unconsciousness was serious, after all.
Somewhere under the pain and fear, she recognised someone trying to help, and fought the muscle spasms even harder, sliding up through layers of unconsciousness. She couldn’t quite surface, though; just close enough that some of the emotional energy diverted into fire again, limning her fingers in flame.
