A/N Some more scenes adapted from Season 3 Episode 1, but with my own personal twist! Thanks so much for the reviews, and I hope you enjoy :)
Merlin opened his eyes and blinked a couple times to bring his vision into focus. Realizing this wasn't his bed he tried to sit up. The metal clinking of chains wrapped around his entire body was mixed with sounds of leaves rustling on the forest floor as he struggled. This drew the attention of two guards who dragged him roughly to his knees.
"What are you doing here?" Morgana demanded, arms crossed.
Morgause stepped over to Merlin, observing him expressionlessly, "He followed you." Merlin tried to clear the cobwebs from his head and assess the situation—Morgause's eyes seemed to bore right through his skull. Do you have magic? Morgause's voice sounded in Merlin's head. She was testing him. Merlin tried not to react or respond.
"Why would you think that sister?" Morgana seemed put off. "He tried to kill me." She then walked over closer to Merlin and glared down at him, "Don't look so surprised Merlin, did you really think I had forgiven you? Like a couple of raggedy flowers could make up for what you did."
Merlin was panicking. If Morgause weren't around, perhaps he'd be able to talk with Morgana and they could resolve the situation. "Morgana, I'm sorry. I told you yesterday, I'm so sorry. I didn't want to."
Morgana made a look of repulsion and turned away. Morgause knelt down and crouched next to Merlin, uncomfortably close to his face. "How did you know to poison her?"
Merlin shifted his weight and didn't answer. Suddenly his chains began to glow and tighten as Morgause chanted, Weorc untoworpenlic. Morgana seemed hesitant, "Are you going to kill him?"
"Not I, sister. He shall be judged and punished by the Old Gods for poisoning you. An eye for an eye, it is the Old Way."
"We've had reports that citizens of Catha and other Druidic peoples have been gathering recently. They and a number of mercenaries are streaming into Cenred's kingdom," Sir Leon looked to Arthur, but the prince made no move to answer. Instead he sat quietly at his father's bedside, clasping the old king's hand in his own.
"Rumors are spreading about the king's state of health, and Camelot's enemies may be preparing to attack," Gaius added.
Another knight rushed into the room, "Permission to speak?" Leon nodded. "Sire, the patrol says a force of 30,000 men has departed from Cenred's kingdom. They are marching towards Camelot."
Arthur sighed, "That outnumbers us by three to one."
"What would you like to do?" Sir Leon asked.
Arthur's lips pressed into a thin line, "We must prepare the city for siege."
Abricaþ benda! Merlin's panic had accelerated into full-blown hysteria. He'd underestimated Morgause's magical abilities and wasn't making any progress on freeing himself. Thousand-year old trees with thick black trunks and twisted branches crowded together, shivering in the wind, creaking and groaning. Something screeched ominously, echoing through the forest. Making out the tip of a poisonous tail pincer not too far off, Merlin started hyperventilating and tugged at his bindings.
Isen fæstnunga onlucan me! The chains glowed but did not budge. Multiple tail pincers were visible now. An entire horde of Serkets was advancing on him from every direction, snapping their claws excitedly. Trying to slow his frenzied breathing, Merlin took a deep breath.
Min strengest miht hate þe tospringan! Still no use, but there was no time to dwell. Eyes darting back and forth, Merlin tried to assess how many Serkets there were. He direly wished that there had been more time to learn formal spells and gain control of his magic during his time in Camelot, but with a master like Arthur there was virtually no time to do anything else. Merlin spewed forth any spells he could remember to try fending off the Serkets. Unfortunately, his training and experience level were vastly inadequate at this point in time.
"AHH!" Merlin yelled out as one of the creatures stabbed their pincers into him. His raw instinctual magic burst out and flung the scorpion off. But Merlin knew this was the beginning of the end for him. An eye for an eye, I get it. He laughed morbidly as he thought of Morgause's words. Feeling truly desperate, he bent over, then flung his head to the sky and roared out a command in his dragonlord tongue.
Ω δρακον, έάω μαλερός σοφόνους φθέγγομαι τείδε άναδικέω! This final act sapped him of his remaining strength and Merlin collapsed onto his side. This is it, he thought and closed his eyes.
"Sire, it seems that most of the forces have stopped at the outskirts of Camelot. A small band of about 20 or so people is making their way towards the city though," Leon reported to Arthur.
"What is it they want?" Arthur asked.
"They request admittance to the citadel. They…have the Lady Morgana."
"What? Is she alright?"
"She appears to be fine…" Leon replied.
"Let them into the throne room, but ask them to surrender their weapons. If any harm comes to Morgana, I'll make them regret it." Leon bowed and hurried out. Arthur turned towards his father, whose gaze was still out of focus, and shook him "Father, you must wake up! Morgana is in trouble!" Arthur knew deep down this was to no avail, and finally set his father down gently. Then he straightened up and hardened his expression. Camelot could not be without a leader.
The sound of wings flapping drew Merlin out of his semi-conscious state. A shadow passed across the starlit sky. Suddenly Merlin was surrounded by a wall of flames. "Kilgharrah…" he croaked.
As the Serkets scuttled away, Kilgharrah dimmed the flames. "Young warlock, you have been injured."
"Can you heal me?" Merlin grimaced.
"I can cast an enchantment, but healing will take time," the dragon said gravely. At the warlock's nod, he roared and a blue light emanated from Merlin body. The chains snapped off and his midsection lifted off the ground slightly. When the light faded away, Merlin slowly rolled onto his stomach and pushed himself up. "You must wait," Kilgharrah warned.
"I don't have time," Merlin winced in pain as he took a wobbly step, "Camelot's in danger, Arthur's in danger." Craning his neck, he looked up at Kilgharrah, "Care to give me a ride?"
"We ask for a peaceful surrender, and demand only that Uther be produced. He is to answer for his crimes!"
Arthur sat in his father's chair in the throne room, looking quite imposing with his grave expression and silence. His composure faltered however, as Morgana walked forward. "Arthur, you have seen first-hand Uther's cruelty. You know he was wrong, you've said so to me."
"We have three times more troops than you do here in Camelot, you cannot win," Morgause pointed out coldly.
"We don't want a bloodbath, only justice…and vindication," spoke a lanky boy with light brown hair.
"This is Mordred," Morgana pointed at him, "do you remember? Arthur?"
"This is treason!" Leon exclaimed and the Camelot guards all tensed, hands on the hilts of their swords. Mordred and the other dozen or so sorcerers flashed their eyes. Metal crashing against stone echoed throughout the chamber as the soldiers were thrown onto the ground.
Arthur curled his fingers into a fist. Morgause stepped closer to the throne and lowered her voice, "Even without the army, you and your pathetic kind are at our mercy. Anger the Old Gods and you shall taste their wrath!"
"NO! Ygraine!" Everyone turned around. Standing in his sleeping robe, looking as pale as a ghost, was Uther. The corner of Morgause's mouth curled upwards.