Part 4 Scars of Lightning and Fire

(Authors Note: I love people who comment! Tell me what you think of Ravana. I own nothing.)

I wasn't sure how long I slept but it must have been quite a while. When I woke the curtains were open and the full moon shone, filling the room with a silvery light. I sat up and wobbled still a little light headed from blood loss. For the first time since Ravana's men had attacked I was. I shivered, the room was freezing. There was a log in the fireplace but no fire was lit. I glanced around then concentrated.

"Foerbearnan." I whispered and a fire lit in the fireplace. It wasn't as big as it should have been but it warmed up the room. I could have tried to escape, should have tried to escape, but I didn't. If I tried she might go after Arthur. I couldn't let that happen.

I shivered. At least Arthur was safe. I tried to focus on that, but I was afraid of what would happen next. Arthur would be halfway back to Camelot now. I thought of Giaus, I would never see him again. I hoped he would be proud of me. Gwen would be upset. She would understand but she would still be upset. I wondered what Lancelot and Gwaine would do. Even I knew that both were loyal too Arthur to the death, both had only come to our aid when Morgana had invaded because I had asked them to. Gwaine and Lance would come looking for me. Would they be too late? I hoped they wouldn't blame Arthur. He needed his knights, especially if I wasn't there. Lancelot would help Giaus protect Arthur from any magical threats.

I was so deep in thought, distracting myself from my current situation that I didn't notice Ravana materialize from the shadows. When I did see her I didn't do anything. I had made a deal after all. She smiled.

"Good evening Merlin." I kept my mouth shut, I may have made a deal not to fight but that didn't mean that I had to talk. She pouted.

"Oh don't be like that! I let your precious prince go and I'm not a cruel person. Alright maybe a little." She smirked. I frowned at her. Her pout deepened, I was surprised her bottom lip didn't get caught on her fangs.

"Aww now you're just being mean! There's no reason we can't have a civilized conversation." I looked her full in the face.

"You're going to kill me." My voice was flat and emotionless. She sat down and brushed at the silk fabric of her skirt as if there was a speck of dust there.

"Well yes, but it's been so long since I've an intelligent conversation. My men aren't smart, lovely strong boys, but dull and frightened. You aren't scared of me. I find that fascinating." I forced a smile.

"Well I have been told I'm a riddle." She grinned widely.

"I can see that." She reached out and poured a goblet of wine from the jug on the table. I stood from the bed as she gestured to the seat across from her. As I sat she placed the goblet in front of me. I raised an eyebrow at her. She sighed.

"It's completely safe. You already know how I'm going to kill you and I intend to make it last. I know it's not much fun for you, but I quite enjoy it." She smirked. I didn't take the cup. She began pouting again. It would have been cute except for the two points it revealed.

"You promised you wouldn't fight me on this. After all I let your little prince regent go. Play nice Merlin." I took the cup. She hadn't been lying; the wine was free of poison. She smiled.

"Thank you! See that wasn't so hard." She simpered. I rolled my eyes at her. She laughed; it was warm but held an undertone of something dark and metallic.

"Oh so you're cheeky! I like that, that's something I haven't seen in a very long time. But I'm curious." She gestured at the scar that was barely visible above the neckline of my tunic.

"You smell of fire and lightning. But that burn holds something else. Power of the old religion, power like that which flows in you, but darker more hateful. Someone truly wanted you dead." I smiled; there was no humor in it, just a touch of nostalgia.

"Very perceptive. She did want me dead. But it didn't really work her way."

"Oh! A priestess then! Tell! I love a good adventure!" She looked genuinely curious.

"Alright, I'll tell you but you have to tell me what happened to you. Why you got turned into this." She grinned and nodded.

"It all started with Questing Beast…" I wove my words into the near death of Arthur and the ruins of the Isle of the Blessed. The room around seemed to vanish as I watched myself from years ago deal my life away for Arthur's. I watched as he once more breathed easily. I felt the tears of rage sting my eyes as my mother stumbled into the city, deathly ill.

I shouted once more at the dragon who had lied to me and felt the panic and determination upon discovering Giaus laying dead at the foot of the alter of the isle. I remembered facing off against Nimueh for the last time. I remembered the pain as the fireball had hit me directly in the chest.

But the pain hadn't been real until later. After the magic from holding Life and Death in my hands faded, then the pain came. After Nimueh screamed her last and Giaus breathed again. After the adrenaline wore off, when we were back in Camelot, that was when the pain came. It had taken me nearly a week to recover fully from the pain. The burn took a month to scab over fully, and two months to close and begin to scar.

Giaus was the only other person who knew about it. It would have raised too many questions. A normal person shouldn't have survived a burn like that. At least that was what Giaus said.

"He told Arthur I fell down the stairs and broke a rib." I laughed just a little bitterly. She was watching me, eyes wide. She was impressed.

"Wow. You held the power of Life and Death as an untrained novice. Took that power from one of the last high priestesses and wielded it effectively. That's impossible." She was grinning now.

"You killed Nimueh without disrupting the balance of the old religion. You are an impossibility." I took a sip of the wine feeling a little awkward.

"Alright, your turn." I said. I blinked and she was right in front of me, guiding the goblet to the table.

"Show me the scar." I shook my head, panic wasn't building yet but it was on its way. She ran a fingernail down the front of my tunic, slicing the fabric as easily as if it were made of butter. The fabric fell slack and she pulled it away revealing the ugly red scar. It covered most of my upper chest, marring the skin there with an angry red scar. She leaned in her eyes turning blood red as I watched.

"Such raw power. Mmmm delicious. I can't seem to help myself." She leaned over my neck and breathed on it for just a second before she bit.