#I’m suffering from can’t draw disease but hoping I’ll be cured soon

[an-albino-pinetree]

From the studio that brought you Kinger, I bring you Longer

[readyourimgaines]

Hanahaki

Fandom: Merlin

Ship: Gwaine/Percival

This short one-shot was part of a deal I made with @dollophead-merlin​. I’m proud of all your hard work, and I hope you enjoy this, my friend! 

Summary:  Hanahaki: A fictional disease causing someone suffering from unrequited love to cough up flower petals as their lungs grow flowers. If the love is unreturned for long enough, the flowers make breathing impossible.

Percival didn’t get sick often, but when he did, the illness usually had him laid up in bed for as long as two weeks. This time was a little different. So when he stumbled into Gaius’s chambers with a hacking cough, Merlin grew worried. 

“Are you okay?” Merlin rushed up from the table where he was sitting and the gentle giant to sit down on the patients’ cot. 

“I can’t-” Percival broke out coughing again. When the coughing subsided, the knight opened his hand and frowned at the flower petal in his palm. “What…”

“I’ll find Gaius,” Merlin offered. “He’ll know what’s wrong and what to do. I’ll be back soon.” He patted the man’s shoulder and tore out of the room at a dead sprint.

*****

Gaius sat back from listening to Percival’s breathing with a furrowed brow and a frown. 

“What is it?” Merlin asked. 

“It’s a very rare disease,” Gaius sighed. “Hanahaki, they call it. There’s only one cure for it, and it isn’t always a guarantee.” 

“Well what is it?” Merlin asked. “I’ll-”

“You can’t.” Percival hung his head. 

“What are you talking about?” Merlin looked between the two. “What does Hanahaki do?” 

“It causes flowers to grow in the lungs until the love isn’t unrequited anymore,” Gaius answered when Percival didn’t open his mouth. “The only one who can stop the disease is the one who’s love Percival’s heart desires.”

“That’s why the cure isn’t guaranteed… But-but you’re in love with Gwaine, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Percival whispered. 

“But he loves you as well- I know he does. He can cure you.” 

“He doesn’t, Merlin,” Percival offered a small smile. “You’ve seen the way he flirts with women. He’d have no interest in someone like me.” 

“Flirting is just words,” Merlin protested. 

“You musn't say a word of this to him, Merlin,” the knight begged. “He’ll blame himself and my death is not something he needs on his conscience.”

*****

A week went by and Percival’s breathing became shallower by the day. There wasn’t an hour when the man wasn’t light headed from lack of oxygen. He found himself wishing he had the strength to pick up a knife and end everything rather than slowly wasting away. He wasn’t even coughing anymore. 

Each member of the round table would come to Gaius’s chambers and visit with the man daily. Arthur would come and pray for him to get better, Gwaine would swear at the sight of his best friend so ill. But Gwaine was determined to find a cure for his friend. He had been told the story about Merlin’s life having been saved from a poison with a simple- yet rare flower. If he had to go to the ends of the Earth for some herb, he’d do it.

*****

“It’s not that kind of illness.” Merlin shook his head while polishing Arthur’s sword in the armory. “There is a cure, but it’s said to be an unlikely one.” 

“Well what is?” Gwaine threw the dagger he was sharpening on the  floor, making Merlin jump- almost cutting his hand on the blade in his own hands. “Merlin, please. If you know it, tell me. I have to try something. My best friend is dying and I can’t sit by and watch any longer when there’s something I could be doing.” 

“He requested I not you. If the cure doesn’t work, he doesn’t want you to feel guilty.”

“Then at least I tried and I didn’t let my friend die without a chance.”

Merlin sighed, running a hand through his hair. The long haired knight had a solid point. Even if the cure wasn’t within reach, Gwaine deserved to know and Percival deserved the chance. 

And so, with a gentle tone and deliberate word choices, Merlin told Gwaine the truth. How someone falls ill to the disease, how and why it kills, how it can be cured. As Merlin finished the explanation, as though the fates aligned, Gwen burst through the door.  

“Gwen-”

“It’s Percival. Gaius says he’ll be dead within the hour.” 

Merlin and Gwaine bolted up and followed Gwen out of the armoury and back to Gaius’s chambers. When they entered the room, Gwaine sat on the side of Percival’s cot and took the other man’s larger hand in his own, holding it tightly. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Gwaine begged, tears threatening to spill. “You oaf. Why didn’t you say a word of this to me?”

All Percival could do was shake his head, and even that simple action seemed to cause him pain in some manner. His breaths were now short wheezes that could be heard from across without straining one’s ears. 

Gwaine rested his forehead on Percival’s. “Don’t go,” he whispered. “I do love you. I do. Just don’t leave me. Please.” 

Percival’s breathing slowed and quieted. Everyone in the room knew what was coming. The slow rise and fall of Percival’s chest stopped and a feral sob tore from Gwaine’s throat and the sound was the tipping point of Gwen’s tears. 

“Go dtí go mbuailfimid le chéile arís, is féidir le Dia tú a shealbhú i pailme a lámh,” Merlin whispered with his eyes closed and head bowed. Percival had been raised by Druids; Merlin thought the blessing was fitting for the gentle man. 

In a final attempt to do something for the man, Gwaine pressed his lips to Percival’s. He needed his best friend alive. He loved the man and didn’t want to see him go. There was so much good for the man to do in the world. He couldn’t be taken so young. Not after everything he’d been through to get to where he was. 

As Gwaine pulled away, all hope lost, Percival took a deep, gasping breath. The painful wheezing was gone, the soft fluttering sound left too. He opened his eyes and looked at Gwaine with shock and confusion. 

“It worked!” Gwaine sobbed. He cupped Percival’s face in his hands and kissed the man again, deeper this time. Percival didn’t waste a second in returning the kiss. 

“How did you know?” Percival asked, still catching his breath from being days without it.   

“A little bird told me,” was the only answer Gwaine gave. “I begged him to- he was hesitant but I got it out of him. I need to try whatever the cure was. I love you and seeing you go so slowly- so painfully- It couldn’t be the end.” 

“You love me?” Percival asked. 

“Would you be alive if I didn’t?” Gwaine asked. “You should have told me.” 

“I didn’t think you were…” 

“You can be attracted to both, Percy. But attraction isn’t the same as love. I flirted so often to hide. My cowardice nearly cost you your life- It did cost you your life.”

“Yet your love brought me back,” Percival smiled. “That takes bravery I didn’t have.” 

“Didn’t?” 

“I don’t want to hide anymore.” 

“Then we won’t,” Gwaine vowed. “Arthur’s Camelot is different. Merlin’s not hiding anymore...Arthur’s engaged to Gwen...I don’t think he’ll deny us the same right.” 

The king had been standing in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe unnoticed since the two kissed and now made his presence known. “I won’t. I’ll write the law tonight.” 

“Which means I’ll be writing it and he’ll stamp it,” Merlin pointed out, drawing laughs from the room. 

“There are going to be more changes to come. I can only make the changes if the need is brought to my attention,” Arthur said. “Don’t worry. Pick the day and it shall be done.”

[thekoshertribble]

“The days and the years ahead are worth living for.” Women of Star Trek Blog Entry #17: “The City on the Edge of Forever” Edith Keeler

“The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, or the one.” This phrase, introduced in 1982′s Star Trek: Wrath of Khan, is most often associated with Spock’s ultimate sacrifice to save the Enterprise from destruction. But the concept this phrase represents had appeared in the original series, 20 years earlier, in certain moments and people. Nowhere else is this better represented than in the character of Edith Keeler, and her own sacrifice, in the iconic episode, “the City on the Edge of Forever.”

If you need a quick refresher, here is a short synopsis. When McCoy, in a drugged state, steps into the Guardian of Forever and alters Earth’s history, Kirk and Spock must follow him back in time to correct and save their timeline. The Guardian sends them back to the approximate place and time of McCoy’s alteration: New York City, during the Great Depression. They soon find the source of the alteration in the form of a young woman named Edith Keeler. While waiting for McCoy’s arrival, Kirk develops feelings for Keeler (and vice versa). At the same time, however, Spock discovers that McCoy’s prevention of her death in a traffic accident altered history. When McCoy arrives later in his drugged up state, Keeler finds him and does her best to nurse him back to health. A few days later, Spock and Kirk reunite with McCoy just as Keeler is crossing the street - McCoy steps out to try and save her, but Kirk holds him back, thus allowing her to be killed and correcting the timeline. A heartbroken Kirk returns with his two friends to the Enterprise.

The story mostly focuses on Kirk’s conflict of heart, having to choose between his own timeline and love: the needs of the many vs. the one. He makes the “logical” choice, saving his own timeline. However, it was Edith herself who had to make the ultimate sacrifice, giving up her life to save the future of Earth, even though she never knew it. 

To make matters more tragic, Edith Keeler did, (or would do) nothing wrong. This was not like Deadpool going back in time to kill Hitler as a baby. On the contrary, Keeler was a radical pacifist. Had she lived, she would become the leader of a nation-wide peace movement. Unfortunately, this peace movement prevented the United State’s entry into World War Two, thus allowing Nazi Germany to take over the world. As Kirk and Spock remark:

KIRK: But she was right. Peace was the way.

SPOCK: She was right, but at the wrong time.

In one scene, Edith remarks that Kirk seems out of place, which is obviously true. Ironically though, Edith herself seems to be out of place, in her own place and time. She sees a hopeful future of peace and prosperity that no one else around her can see, and she acts towards others they way that people in that future should act, in her opinion. I’m not going to go so far as to say she is flawless, but it’s very hard to find reasons not to like her. She possesses a great many positive traits, as noted in the following scenes:

When Edith first encounters Kirk and Spock in the basement of her soup kitchen, she has the following conversation:

KIRK: Excuse us, miss. We didn't mean to trespass. It's cold outside.

EDITH: A lie is a poor way to say hello. It isn't that cold.

KIRK: No. We were being chased by a policeman.

EDITH: Why?

KIRK: These clothes. We stole them. We didn't have any money.

EDITH: Well, I could do with some help around here. Doing dishes, sweeping, general cleaning. 

Her first line tells us two things about Keeler: One, she is not the gullible type. She can see through a man’s lies, even when he’s a charming at Kirk can be. Two: she has a strong moral code. This first line is partly reprimand, partly a refutation of an obvious lie. 

But, she balances that strong moral code with understanding and forgiveness. Instead of turning Kirk and Spock over to the cops or forcing them to return the clothes, she offers them a jobs with the soup kitchen. She understands they stole clothes out of necessity and desperation. She gives them work to not only alleviate their poverty; she also gives them an opportunity to “pay back” for their stealing by doing work.  In other words, while she doesn’t ignore the fact they stole, Edith looks to see the good in Kirk and Spock, and she believes they can be redeemed. 

We see this again a few scenes later, when Spock steals the tools from a workman’s box. She strongly reprimands him, and asks him why he did it, but she still does not lose her faith in him. (To be fair, her suspicion of him is alleviated by Kirk, but I still think Keeler ultimately came her own conclusions.) 

Her faith in people also extends to humanity in general. As soup is served to a small crowd of homeless people, Edith stands up on a podium and gives them the following speech:

“Now, as I'm sure somebody out there has said, it's time to pay for the soup. Now, let's start by getting one thing straight. I'm not a do-gooder. If you're a bum, if you can't break off of the booze or whatever it is that makes you a bad risk, then get out. Now I don't pretend to tell you how to find happiness and love when every day is just a struggle to survive, but I do insist that you do survive because the days and the years ahead are worth living for. One day soon man is going to be able to harness incredible energies, maybe even the atom. Energies that could ultimately hurl us to other worlds in some sort of spaceship. And the men that reach out into space will be able to find ways to feed the hungry millions of the world and to cure their diseases. They will be able to find a way to give each man hope and a common future, and those are the days worth living for. “

Before this speech, a man warns Kirk that he’ll “be sorry,” because he’ll “have to listen to goody-two-shoes” in exchange for the free meal. It’s suggests that Keeler gave this speech, or some variant of it, every night to whoever frequented the soup kitchen. Considering the dismal setting, its no surprise that the locals became a bit jaded by this daily optimistic message. It’s easy to write off her words as delusional, just as her audience does judging from their reaction, but Edith Keeler is not a delusional person. She is not naive to the pain and suffering around her - she runs a soup kitchen in the depths of the Great Depression, after all. She acknowledges her dark environment but does not allow that to stop her from seeing the light in humanity’s future. 

It’s this characteristic that, I think, draws Keeler to Kirk and vice versa. (Remember, Kirk survived the horrors of Tarsus IV, and despite that hardship, believes in the ability of humanity to rise above its bloodstained history.) He is impressed not only by her insight into future human events (atomic power and space travel), but her unwavering hope. 

EDITH: Why? What is so funny about man reaching for the moon?

KIRK: How do you know?

EDITH: I just know, that's all. I feel it. And more, I think that one day they'll take all the money they spend now on war and death

KIRK: And make them spend it on life?

EDITH: Yes. You see the same things that I do. We speak the same language.

KIRK: The very same. 

Lastly, her most obvious trait is her generosity and willingness to help anyone in need. We see this in her first scene, offering a job to Kirk and Spock, total strangers in her soup kitchen’s basement. She later finds them a “flop” to sleep in - otherwise the two men would probably have spent their nights waiting for McCoy in the city’s alleyways. Next, when on a date with Kirk, she senses something is bothering him, and asks: “Are you afraid of something? Whatever it is, let me help.” And finally, she finds McCoy as he stumbles into her soup kitchen and nurses him back to health in her office. 

Let me reemphasize that last bit. Remember when McCoy jumped back through the portal screaming bloody murder about bloody murder, and that homeless guy sees him, drops the bottle of milk he stole and bolts in the opposite direction? Contrast that to Keeler’s reaction, when she finds McCoy. To be fair, he’s not screaming bloody murder at this point - more like mumbling, really - but he still looks like a plague victim and no one wants to go near him. Except for Edith. Instead of running away from him, like everyone else around her, she does the exact opposite and helps him herself. 

Tragically, it’s her saving of McCoy that ultimately kills her. If she had ignored him, or called the police on him, he likely wouldn’t have been in the right place and time to save her life. 

None of this is to say that good deeds shouldn’t be done because they won’t be rewarded. Quite the contrary - we should do good deeds for their own sake, not for the reward we might get. Yeah, that might sound preachy and obvious, but it’s surprising just how easily we can forget these things in practice. 

Before I wrap this long blog post up, I’ll make one more point: although we’re not engaged in a world war or a devastating economic depression, it’s no secret things aren’t exactly great right now. My new years resolution was to stop saying “it can’t get worse,” because each time I said that I was proven wrong. But maybe Edith’s message is still relevant. Maybe the days and the years ahead are still worth living for. Just a crazy thought. 

Next entry: Operation: Annihilate!

[tinybibmpreg]

Day 63 // ft. Azarane, Christovao, Surath, and Brother Berrain

#89 / Truth

“Tell me what you want,” Arazane begged.

Then, for the first time in weeks, he received an immediate and truly honest answer, “I want my family to be safe.”

“Then why are you doing such risky things?”

“It’s my duty, Arazane. I’m sure you’ll understand someday.”

-

Christovao handed him a tea bag, and giving him a fake smile that didn’t reach his empty eyes, told him that it would help him with his morning sickness. Though he trusted his lover more than anyone else, as he took the offering, he was filled with a sense of dread. But he smiled back and thanked him, and silently resolved to take it to be tested for magic.

“Sir Yamega!” one of the other knights called for Christovao. “The king is riding out to the border to check on new evidence. He wants you to lead his personal guard.”

“Who has been assigned to guard Prince Arazane?”

“I have, sir.”

“Good.” He turned back to Arazane. “I’ll report back as soon as the King allows me, your highness.”

“Of course.” With a dip of his head, Christovao put on his helmet and left. As soon as he was gone, Arazane said to his new guard, “I need to visit Brother Berrain. Accompany me.”

“Yes, your highness. Are you ill?”

“No. I just need him to check something for me before he goes out to treat the afflicted.”

-

The little tea bag exploded on impact with the shimmering water in Berrain’s mixing bowl, and he and Arazane startled. Arazane had suspected that the tea would have some faery magic in it, perhaps something to make him forget Christovao’s involvement with the woods, but he hadn’t expected it to react to the minor barrier charm like that.

“Goodness, your highness, that tea was made entirely of magic. There’s not a speck left. Where did you get it?”

All he could do was stare at the once pale green water as it turned a deep blood red, symbolizing what was malevolent intent. Finally, he asked, words slow, “...Berrain, can I trust you?”

“Of course, Prince.”

“You can’t tell anyone. Not even my father.”

“I haven’t even told him that you’re with child,” Berrain assured. “Any secret you speak is safe with me.”

He hesitated, but then put a hand over his belly and replied, “Christovao gave it to me.”

“Sir Yamega? Why on Earth would he give you such toxic magic?”

“I- I don’t know what exactly happened that started all of this, or when it began, but he went into the woods. There was a faery, dying, I think, and he helped them. They convinced him to help them, and he’s spent the night in the woods. The plague on the people… Christovao is the one infecting people.”

“Did he tell you what’s wrong with them?”

“No. But he was disturbed by the idea of anyone cutting open the sores. He said it’s better for everyone to not know.”

“I’ll tell the others not to try it. Now that we know it’s faery magic, maybe we can work on a treatment… Don’t worry, I won’t tell them my source.”

Arazane nodded, grateful. “Berrain, do you know how we can help Christovao? He’s not even the same person anymore, and I’m afraid of what he’ll do if he gets exposed…”

Berrain clucked his tongue. “Claimed by the faeries. Not much anyone can do there. All the cases I’ve heard end in tragedy. Faeries are fickle creatures. If they get bored of something, they’ll get rid of it. Killing’s a sport to them, you know.”

“I know. I don’t want anything to happen to him… He was just trying to be kind, helping someone in the woods… Chris doesn’t deserve to suffer because of that!”

Going towards a bookshelf full of large, old volumes, Berrain pulled one out from the bottom. It looked ready to fall to pieces. He brought it to his exam table, and set it down. Carefully, he opened it, and began flipping through the pages. “Now, we know so little about faeries, and this is probably terribly outdated, but I’m sure I can find some way to help him. This book was outlawed decades ago, but almost everything we know about faeries and their magic, their culture… it’s all in here.”

God, he hoped that they would be able to help him. Arazane sighed, and let his gaze wander around the room as Berrain searched for the page he was looking for. Something caught his eye, and he looked back at the bowl. Instead of being a solid blood red, there was a white circle in the center. “Berrain? What does that mean?”

“Huh? Oh- Lord, what is that?”

“Blood is for malevolent intent, right?”

“White… White is benevolence. That’s strange, how can something be both at once?”

“Maybe it’s a typically malevolent spell, but prepared with good intentions?” He’d rather think that Christovao had given him a curse to help him instead of hurt him.

“Perhaps. Pity that detection charm is recent, or else I’d look it up in my books.”

It took awhile for Berrain to find the information they wanted, and when Arazane looked down at the book, he was greeted with eerie sketches of humans with hastily scrawled notes next to them. Most of the drawings were weeping or in the midst of violent acts, and one looked to be laughing even as their limbs were clearly depicted as broken. Next to that one, it simply said ‘emotion reversal. Pain = pleasure, sadness = joy, and so on, so on.’

“Contrary to popular belief-” Berrain started, jumping at the chance to explain something to a willing audience, “-claiming by faeries doesn’t cause random effects. This book documents the specific symptoms different people get. Of course, each case is different, and has their own mixture and severity… Ah, here it is! Is this how Sir Yamega is behaving, Prince?”

It was a sketch of an adult man, with the face scrawled out. Next to it, there was a glued on journal entry in quickly scrawled handwriting.

I visited the town of Hero’s Lake this winter, where I met with the wife of a farmer who was robbed on his way home through the woods. The man was accidentally thrown into a faery circle, where he lay unconscious all night. His wife told me how he gradually lost all of his emotions, until the only thing he truly desired to do was tend to his animals, so he could bring milk and eggs to the faery circle for them to eat. I attempted to cure the man with a purification spell, but with no effect. It is with great misfortune that I write that two weeks into my visit, the man committed suicide in his barn, where his wife and I discovered his body being pecked at by crows. I suspect it is because he was no longer providing the creatures with food during the cold months.

Likewise, I met the parents of a young girl who suffered from a similar fate on my travels. The faeries grew bored of her in a matter of minutes when she couldn’t provide any more amusement, and strung her up for the crows.

Those with no emotions are in great danger, as the faeries will become bored with them once they no longer need them. Any attempt to stop them from fulfilling their purpose can lead to the display of other symptoms. The girl’s father attempted to stop her from walking to the field where the faeries watched her dance, and she thrashed about, screaming as though in pain. She injured her leg in the skirmish, and could not dance properly, which led to her demise.

They would have to be careful then. Trying to stop Christovao from helping the faery wouldn’t work. Though it would mean the people would continue to be diseased, Arazane had to let him continue, lest he lose his lover forever.

“That’s exactly what happened to him.”

“Has he displayed any other symptoms? Can you tell what his last desire is?”

“I don’t think so, and he said all he wanted was to protect his family… But why would a faery have him want that? It must be to help the faery survive. Maybe it truly is sick.”

-

Every Sunday, Arazane’s father allowed the citizens of the kingdom to come and speak to the court, to make requests or ask questions. It allowed him to get to know the problems of his kingdom, and his father was a good man who always tried to solve the problems the people brought to him, lest they turn to the magicians and untrustworthy spells for help.

He always attended, and Christovao always stood guard. So he left Berrain to do more research, and returned home. By the time he arrived, his father had returned from edge of the woods, and Christovao was there to help him out of his carriage, offering a gloved hand.

Christovao nodded to the knight that had been guarding him, dismissing him. “How are you, your highness?”

“Well. I visited Berrain. He’s doing some research about the plague, and I wanted to know if he had anything I could tell the King.”

“Good. The King is expecting you in the throne room.”

The knight led him there, and Arazane took his place beside his father. The King leaned closer to him, and asked, “How was your outing?”

“I visited Brother Berrain. He believes he knows what’s causing the plague, and is certain it was not caused by dark magic, but he has to test his theory. He’s also going to warn the other doctors not to attempt to cut into any of the affected areas just yet.”

“Excellent. This kingdom doesn’t need another rogue magician. This is great news.”

It really wasn’t, but Arazane did not say any more on the subject. He sat back and watched his father talk. Everyone was relieved to hear that Berrain was once again making strides in his research, and a messenger went to spread the news and warning to the rest of the doctors, who were out tending to the afflicted.

“There is no need to shield your face in my court, sir,” the King said as a lone person walked up. They did not kneel as everyone else did. “Please, feel free to remove your hood.”

“Of course. Now, please do not fear, my good man. I mean no harm and come in good faith.”

It couldn’t be.

The person pulled off their cloak to reveal that they were none other than a faery. In all the years that the kingdom had stood, Arazane knew that not once had a faery ever set foot in the palace. There were barriers to prevent that, charms to ward them away.

But the faery smiled at them, insect wings stretching, long ears twitching. “Hiteran, I come to make a request.”

“I do not bargain with pixies!”

“No, no, this is no offering. I’ve simply come to retrieve something of mine. A person, who is very dear to me.”

His father glanced at him, and Arazane shook his head. “Faeries do not leave the woods to fetch people. They lure them in.”

“True, of course.” Something seemed off about this faery. In a way, he was familiar, though Arazane knew he’d never seen a faery in his life. “But this person is already claimed. He belongs to the woods. To me.”

“A personal claim?”

The faery nodded, putting his hands on his belly. “Yes. You see, I’ve come to retrieve the father of my child.” Arazane felt his eyes on him as he spoke, and he held back the urge to wrap an arm around his own belly.

“A human fathering a faery’s child?”

“Yes. It’s truly a miracle. The Ancients have smiled upon our union. We have sworn ourselves to no one but each other, and he has vowed to protect our child. I thought it would be considerate of me to inform you before he comes with me.”

Faeries couldn’t lie outside of the woods. Everyone knew that. Arazane felt like he was drowning as he realized who the faery was here for.

The faery snapped his fingers, and Christovao stepped forward, drawing his sword. He approached the faery, and instead of striking him, he got on one knee, the point of his blade pressed right in front of his foot like a staff. He bowed his head, and the faery smiled.

“Hello, Chris. It’s wonderful to see you again.” The faery crouched down and removed Christovao’s helmet. He let it fall to the floor, and took the knight’s face in his hands, angling it upwards. “Are you ready to go home?”

“Yes.”