A Different Destiny / Merthur

A Fire Of Unknown Origin

Merlin had been beyond grateful for the time off.  Strictly speaking, he hadn't actually been ill, but he had been extremely tired, and that, he'd decided, was a very similar thing. Besides, it was unusual for Arthur to be so openly caring, and Merlin had intended to take full advantage of it; he'd left the training field and made straight for his chambers where, after kicking off his boots, he'd flopped onto the bed and promptly fallen asleep.

But this was Camelot, and nothing was ever simple.

~~~

Morgana woke with a start.  She sat bolt upright, breathing heavily — as if she'd been running — and tried to stop her head from spinning.  Her nightgown was drenched in sweat.  She shuddered and threw the douvet off, letting it fall away into the shadows of the room which, she now realised, was lit by a single candle.

She stared at it.

It had not been lit when she'd fallen asleep, and it certainly hadn't been lit when she'd woken up.  It just seemed to have— appeared. Morgana could feel herself starting to panic. The flame was growing, larger and wilder and taller and—

Morgana let out a piercing scream as the curtain burst into flames.

For a moment, her body seemed to go completely numb. Her mind blanked. Her limbs refused to respond. She sat completely still, clutching the bedsheets in horror.

And then the door flew open, and Gwen was stood shielding her face from the flames and yelling words that Morgana couldn't hear but still understood; and suddenly she was scrambling out of bed and running across the room, reaching for Gwen and, both of them, stumbling backwards into the corridor.

Morgana immediately launched into a coughing fit.

"Are you alright," Gwen heaved, clutching onto her arm, "you're not hurt? I heard you scream and then there was fire and I—"

Morgana shook her head. "I'm fine, I'm fine. How did you get here so quickly?"

"I thought I'd sleep outside you room, just in case you had a nightmare.  Just in case you needed me."

"Thank you," Morgana hugged her tightly, "thank you, thank you—"

There was a shout from down the corridor, and both women jumped back. Arthur was running towards them, barefoot, sword drawn, and in clothes that looked like they'd been thrown on and were — especially the shirt — most likely backwards. He skidded to a halt beside them and almost crashed into Merlin, who'd sprinted in from the other direction: they'd both been woken by the scream.

"What happened?" Arthur panted, "where are the guards?"

"I don't know! I don't— my curtains just caught fire, and the whole room— it just—" Morgana was doing her best to hold back tears, "it just set alight!"

There was a rumble of footsteps, and Arthur turned to see a whole host of guards running towards them. "Fire!" He yelled, waving them back, "we need buckets, and water— you," he pointed to the nearest guard, "get my Father, get the knights, dammit, wake the entire castle. No one sleeps until this is out!"

The guards hurried away.

The fire had already consumed most of the room: its light was blinding, and its heat oppressive.  Beyond the door, half-open and aflame, everything had become sea of orange: white-hot and raging. 

Arthur took several steps backwards, dropping his sword and spreading his arms wide to shield the others behind him.  Smoke had started to fill the corridor.  It swirled in elusive grey clouds and fought its way into lungs.  It was suffocating.  Arthur pulled his shirt over his nose.  "Merlin, take Morgana and Gwen to Gaius.  Have him check them over and stay there until I come for you."