Chapter 4: Gwaine

"I believe we have everything we need," Alator informed Gwaine as he entered the modest chambers that the boy had been assigned. "Are you ready?"

"Just about." With a heavy sigh, Gwaine put the red surcoat, emblazoned with a gold dragon, over the top of his usual rich brown shirt. He was determined to show his true colours today in some form, even if he was had no choice about the rest of it. "Remind me, which kingdom are we fighting for this time around?" he quipped.

"You have not yet fought for any kingdom," Alator replied sternly, although Gwaine saw the man's lips twitch slightly in suppressed amusement.

"Yet you have had to fight for both the North and the East before this?"

"I have," the man agreed. "But today I fight for Camelot, as do you."

"Against my own homeland," the boy said with a sigh.

"We are not getting into discussion again, Gwaine. I know it's not always easy for you to accept, but this is the way it has to be. In truth we are not fighting for Uther or for Camelot but rather for the future peace of Albion. The druid elders still follow the Dragon Born Prophecy and they understand what the current kings cannot comprehend ..."

"... that the only true path to peace lies through love not war." Gwaine finished the quote with an exaggerated yawn.

"Yes, and it is your generation that needs to take the lead, to start to forget the old wars and the old hatreds and forge friendships and alliances instead."

"I know." The boy sighed again. "Come on then, let's go and wave a few red flags and see if they're enough to scare off a dragon."

"Not that you have any reason to fear him," Alator stated confidently and Gwaine stared at his mentor in disbelief.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Even though he currently answers to an unworthy master, the Great Dragon is also bound to the prophecy and must ensure it's fruition, despite any orders he may receive." Gwaine blinked, trying to keep track of the conversation.

"How is Morfyn unworthy? I'd heard that the Dragonlords had both power and honour or else they would not be able to take command of the creatures when the time comes."

"That is true. Although it is often said that the eldest son inherits, there have been exceptions to the rule."

"Really? A second son might inherit the ability?"

"As might a daughter."

"There are dragon ... ladies?" Gwaine asked, shocked and Alator grinned. "There have been female Dragonlords, yes. The Great Dragon's mate was commanded by one, in fact."

"But, King Morfyn doesn't have any daughters, does he. Cenred is his only living child?"

"That is correct."

"So what did you mean when you said that he was unworthy?"

"King Morfyn is a very different man nowadays," Alator explained. "In his youth he embraced the Old Religion and used his powers wisely. Loosing his wife was the start of his decline but, back then, Kilgharrah had the strength of mind to counter the King's rash decisions."

"Isn't a dragon required to obey it's Dragonlord, no matter what?"

"Yes, but that doesn't mean they can't complain and caution him or her, just as a king's lords and advisors do here. Gaius and Geoffrey can warn Uther against a chosen part, explain the consequences of a rash action and offer alternatives, but if the King insists that he is right, everyone will obey. It has always been the same with the dragons, and most Dragonlords will heed such wisdom, knowing that the creatures are older and have more powerful magic."

"So, is this dragon obeying his lord willingly?"

"I believe so, but then he too is full of grief. Ten years ago Uther had the other five remaining dragons and their Dragonlords killed, including the Great Dragon's mate. His grief is now even more powerful than Morfyn's and it has set both of them down the road of revenge, which can now only be halted when the Dragon Born hear their true souls for the first time."

"What does that mean?" Gwaine asked in an exasperated tone.

"Despite the fact that Uther was indeed the one to start this war, Camelot's survival is essential to the Prophecy and must endure before peace can return," Alator continued without answering Gwaine's question. "We must do everything in our power to help ensure that Morfyn's attack is not successful."

"Fine," said Gwaine, who had long ago learnt to take Alator's cryptic comments with a large pinch of salt. "Let's try that then, shall we?"

~o~0~o~

Alator made a strange sort of knight, Gwaine observed as he watched his mentor ride across the courtyard on his white horse to join the rest of the army. The sorcerer was wearing the red surcoat of Camelot, but had no armour or chain-mail to protect his body, nor any helm to protect his bare head. Like all the others, he carried a sword on his left hip, but his main weapon was a huge long bow which he wore slung over his back - a very different weapon to the crossbows that the Camelot knights used. Gwaine knew that the man chose to dress lightly so that he could move quickly and shoot his bow with ease but, of course, he did also have his powerful magic to protect him too. Not that any of the other knights knew that, and they looked at the bald man very strangely as he joined their ranks, some whispering and grinning quite rudely as they trotted noisily across the cobbles of Camelot's courtyard and headed out to war.

Ever since they'd arrived in Camelot, Gwaine had been worried that someone would find out about Alator's special gifts and he would be sentenced to death, but the man just smiled knowingly whenever the boy expressed concern and said that it really wasn't that difficult to fool the people of Camelot hinting, yet again, that there were a few other sorcerers in the city – some of which had been living right under Uther's nose for a number of years.

"Even in the Palace?" Gwaine asked, wide-eyed.

"Oh yes," Alator replied with a rare smile. "In the past, the druids were always prepared to live quietly and separately and not openly interfere in the affairs of kings," his mentor explained. "However, all of that changed when Uther started his campaign against the Dragon Born Prophecy, and set out to destroy the dragons and the royal families. From that moment on, it was decided that they would do whatever it took to counter all of his moves and ensure that it would come to pass."

"They're here then – the Druids? Here undercover, keeping an eye on Uther?"

Alator answered with a small, sad smile in response. "Probably best not to talk of such things in Camelot?"

Gwaine had to admit that the comment had made him especially curious but, despite his naturally light-hearted manner, this was one subject he knew he should not joke about and he knew it was no point pushing Alator about it either. If the man thought his charge should know about such things, he would tell him.

Alator had even forced a promise out of Gwaine not to discuss sorcery with anyone else here in Camelot, not even Nimueh - who the boy knew also had magic He suspected Alice might have some skill too; her remedies were remarkably effective for traditional medicine but, a careless word in a place like Camelot would mean instant death for any accused of sorcery, and so this was one instruction that Gwaine had no intention of disobeying.

Alator didn't seem to object to him being friends with Prince Arthur but, despite the fact that Gwaine was starting to like the blond, he certainly didn't fully trust him as far as magic was concerned. The prince had grown up with Uther for a father, constantly believing that magic was evil and all sorcerers were the enemy and Gwaine knew that such prejudice was not easily overcome.

He understood that Uther had used magic in the past, had even heard rumours that he'd used a dragon and Dragonlord and their special brand of magic to help him to capture the others but it seemed that, once that task had been accomplished, the King had turned his back on the practice for ever, apparently blaming magic in some form for his wife Ygraine's death. It was hardly surprising then that Arthur would have adopted his father's prejudice for sorcerers and dragons but perhaps, in the future, the prince might be more easily persuaded that such things could be used for good.

As for Merlin, Gwaine had no idea what his position was on magic, but at least his promise not to discuss the subject with anyone other than Alator released him from any feelings of guilt about keeping secrets from his closest friends and, he admitted, he really did like Merlin, despite being quite convinced that the skinny boy had even more secrets than he did.

The young squires were travelling at the back of the large army, walking alongside the supply wagons which carried food, medical supplies and spare weapons. The boys would not be going into battle as such, but some might be used as runners to ferry supplies back and forth, whilst some would stay by the wagons so they would be free to help re-equip knights if the battle dragged on for many hours and they needed replacement swords or shields. There were grown men here in this group too, many with some fighting skill, who would both manage the supplies and defend the camp if any of the enemy got through the main lines.

From time to time, the young squires might be allowed to travel briefly on one of the wagons, but usually only if they could be seen to be doing something of importance at the time, such as maintaining the weapons or collecting the supplies for distribution. Gwaine and Arthur spent quite a bit of time together as the prince had, unsurprisingly, been assigned to a knight of high standing within the same battalion as Alator. Gwaine saw rather less of his other friend though, as Merlin wasn't here as a squire but as a field medic and those carts were taking up position near the woods on a ridge overlooking the likely battle site. However, despite that, the dark haired boy usually found an excuse to run over to their group when he had some spare time allowing the three friends to exchanged news of their days and the men they were assisting.

Of his other friends, most of the older ones were taking part in the battle itself. Lancelot and Percival were in the rear guard as they were still little more than boys, although Leon had been given a full bill of heath by Gaius and was now fighting in the main army, in the same battalion as king Gorlois. Gwaine shook his head and reluctantly corrected that to 'Lord' Gorlois but it didn't feel right even as he thought it. He still tended to called Morgana 'princess' if he was in the company of Easterners or if he'd decided he really wanted to annoy Arthur. He grinned at the memory of the Prince's face whenever he 'forgot' his female friend's title in his presence.

News of the enemy position reached them at regular intervals and Gwaine went to bed that night knowing that they would be engaging the other side early the following day. However, the camp had only just started to wake up and prepare for the battle, when there was a sudden warning cry and everyone had to hurry to their posts far earlier than expected.

"Dragon!"

Gwaine looked up at the sky, shocked at the comment, and felt a strange sensation deep inside as he saw the magnificent creature flying towards them. After an inexplicable pause as he gaped at the dragon, he moved to gather his supplies and ran behind the nearest wagon, throwing everything into the back as he went past. The other boys were panicking and yelling but Gwaine felt that such antics were just a waste of energy and tried to keep calm despite the sound of his own heart beating loudly in his ears. He watched the scene from behind the wagon, as the dragon headed straight for the front ranks of knights, who were still not quite in formation, and breathed fire at Camelot's frightened army.

This was no time for misplaced courage, Gwaine knew, so he stayed where he was until the creature had flown over them and then moved quickly towards a wagon in a much safer location, grabbing a familiar, fallen squire off the floor on the way.

"He's coming back," Ethan warned, and Gwaine hauled the other boy by the sleeve and got them both to safely just as the dragon flew over head blowing a casual plume of flame at the wagons. As he banked sharply and headed back towards the main part of the army, Gwaine looked over in that direction, to see panic and devastation everywhere, whilst Camelot's knights desperately trying to form some sort of attacking force at such short notice.

However, one group did seem to be more organised, now riding at speed towards the main part of the army where most of the important blue and brown banners of the North and West were waving in the light morning breeze. It seemed to Gwaine that the Camelot attack group were seriously outnumbered and it was only now that more red knights were racing over to join them in their attack. Even more worrying was that a large contingent of the enemy army had broken through and seemed to be heading toward their own rear guard unit that were situated just in front of the supply wagons.

"Gwaine, move. Retreat!" Alator was suddenly riding up to him. "All of you. Run! We'll distract them for a bit, but you need to get back to Camelot. Warn them to prepare. This is not going well for us."

"What about you?" Gwaine shouted over the noise and confusion.

"I have a plan," he said confidently, but Gwaine did not like the look he saw on his mentor's face at all.

"What are you going to do?" the boy asked, not sure he really wanted to hear the answer.

"Go," Alator urged. "I need to get into position." He looked around wildly. "I'm going over to that ridge and I'll try to persuade the physicians to retreat too. There's no point them staying here now. The battle's all but lost."

"Alator … what are you doing to do? What are you planning?" the boy pushed.

"Just run, Gwaine."

The boy started to do as he was told, gathering up a few other squires on the way. They'd seen no real fighting here, just that one, fairly half-hearted attack from the dragon and, as such, there were mostly a few bruises and a lot of panic. However, despite the instructions and despite his own fear, Gwaine hesitated and looked back over to where Alator had ridden, seeing him talk briefly to someone by the ridge and then aiming his large bow high into the air. As the arrow arced towards the enemy army, the boy was sure he could see a blue light flash across its surface.

Magic. He's using magic.

He thought at first that Alator had planned to hit the dragon but the creature was further west at the moment, banking steeply to prepare himself for yet another attack on Camelot's knights, and his arrow had now reached its zenith and was falling down towards a group of blue clad knights. Another group of squires and young knights ran up towards Gwaine then and he soon found Arthur by his side.

"Why are you stopping?" the prince asked. "We have to retreat, it's an order."

"I think something important is happening over there," Gwaine observed, pointing to the centre of the battle where he'd spotted the small Camelot unit engaging the main banners a little earlier.

"What? Gwaine, we have to go."

"Look!"

The dragon was still heading towards Camelot's army, poised for attack when he suddenly appeared to drop, swerve, briefly recover and then drop again.

"He's been hit?" Arthur guessed.

"No," Gwaine disagreed. "None of our weapons have even got close." The dragon's route was now totally wild, he flew back and forwards, up and down and then let out a very different type of roar which sounded more like a cry of pain. At the same time Gwaine felt something himself; a sharp agony deep inside him and he too cried out. He wondered if he'd been hit by an arrow.

"Aarggh!" Next to him the Prince fell to his knees and clutched his chest, apparently experiencing the same sensation, even though neither of them appeared to have suffered any obvious injury.

"Arthur?"

"The sound. The pain," the prince gasped. "I can hear ..."

"Yes, I know." Gwaine looked up to see the rest of their group still retreating and apparently unaffected by the strange sound and sensation that had completely floored him and his friend. "Arthur, can you get up? We have to move."

"What happened? What was that?" The prince had tears in his eyes, physical and emotional pain etched on his face. Gwaine could feel his own eyes stinging in response.

"I've no idea but ..." He looked back to find that most of their army had changed direction again and were now moving back toward the enemy. "Where's the dragon?"

"I don't know," said Arthur, scanning the skies. "The last I saw of him he was heading for the ridge."

"But Alator's over there," Gwaine gasped.

"And Merlin. That's where the medical wagons were stationed." The two looked back towards the retreating group, then at each other before quickly making their decision.

"Perhaps we can help Merlin tend the injured?" Arthur suggested and Gwaine grinned, pleased of the excuse to check on their friends. By now the pain had subsided enough for them to be able to get up and run slowly towards the place where Gwaine had last seen Alator fire that arrow. It wasn't long before the man intercepted them, his annoyance quite obvious.

"Why are you two here? I told you to retreat."

"We saw the dragon falling. What's happening?" Gwaine asked.

"King Morfyn's dead," he replied. "The dragon is without a master, at least for the time being. Camelot has decided to take advantage of that and has resumed its attack."

"But he has a son," Gwaine said. "Cenred will simply take over from his father."

"Perhaps," Alator replied, "but he may not be in a position to do so at the moment and the dragon will still be suffering from the death of his master. That won't last for long though. We have to attack now whilst we still have the advantage."

"We were going to look for Merlin, perhaps help with the injured," Arthur said, his statement sounding a little like a question. Alator gave the boys a long look before nodding.

"That's not a bad idea. You should be safe enough over there. Just be careful, both of you," and he was off again, heading back towards the main body of the army.

"Won't the dragon keep attacking us, anyway?" Arthur asked.

"Depends what the exact nature of Morfyn's last instruction was. Without guidance he'll probably just do whatever he likes, dragons are fickle like that."

"You know a lot about them?"

"A little. More than most, perhaps. I was born in the West, so I know something of their history, and Alator's told me quite a bit, but only the Dragonlords are privy to all the mysteries and secrets."

"Dragonlord," Arthur corrected. "Just one now."

"Probably." Gwaine frowned trying to remember his earlier conversation with Alator. He had a feeling the man had not been telling him everything. What enchantment had he put on that arrow? Why did he seem convinced that they were in no danger over here when this was the very direction the dragon had last been seen flying in?

"Gwaine, Arthur. You're both alive!"

"Merlin!" Gwaine looked at their friend and noticed that the boy looked even paler than usual, his eyes wide and his clothes covered with dirt and blood. "What's the matter, mate, you look terrible. Are you hurt?"

"N-no, not really. It's just … well, the dragon … he ..."

"Yes? What?" Arthur asked. Merlin's eyes widened and Gwaine saw a sudden host of emotions play across the boy's face. His friend really did have such expressive features but Gwaine was not at all sure what could have caused such an extreme reaction.

"What about the dragon?" Gwaine asked.

"He came towards me … he … "

"Yes?" Arthur pushed.

Merlin blinked a couple of times before shaking his head. "Nothing, it was just a bit scary, that was all."

"Well, at least you're in one piece," said Arthur. "Not many people got close to that dragon and came away uninjured." The boy beamed at the comment.

Merlin explained that he'd been heading back to the medical supply wagons because he had an errand to run, and so Gwaine and Arthur followed him and offered their services to the supply master. Merlin then asked for some men to carry an injured man he'd been tending to down by the ridge, impressing and surprising Gwaine with the sudden authority and confidence in this voice, and the three were quickly parted again; Merlin off on more urgent errands whilst he and Arthur, with far more limited medical knowledge, worked as runners and carry supplies and water to the physicians and patients in the field. It seemed that the whole incident with Morfyn and the dragon had meant that there was no longer any urgent need to go ahead with the retreat that Alator had originally suggested but, all the same, they needed to make sure that they were ready to move out at short notice and so they were kept very busy, running back and forth, helping to fetch and carry and making sure that some of the more stable patients were made ready for transport back to Camelot.

Gwaine had no idea how long he and Arthur toiled, but the next thing he was fully aware of was Leon riding up and telling them that it was now the North-West army that were retreating and that Camelot had decided to simply let them go.

"Why? If they're running we should pursue," Arthur argued.

"The dragon did a huge amount of damage, we've lost so many men." Leon explained with a sigh, "we don't have the strength for any more fighting."

"Where's the dragon now?" Merlin asked.

"He's gone. Some reported seeing him flying back towards the centre of the army and we all braced ourselves, assuming the son would instruct him to attack us again."

"But, he didn't?" Gwaine guessed.

"It doesn't seem so. He stayed there for a short while and then he flew off just before the army started to retreat." Next to him, Merlin frowned, apparently confused about something.

"Which direction was he heading in?" Arthur asked, obviously concerned for Camelot's safety.

"North-east," Leon replied. It's just lakes and caves over there, no major settlements for leagues."

"I wonder what happened?" Gwaine mused. "I wonder why Morfyn's son couldn't command him."

~o~0~o~


A/N So, can anyone guess why Merlin's a bit shaken up?

I've been accused of using too much speech in my writing but this certainly isn't the case here - lol. In fact, I've noticed how each chapter seems to have a unique character of its own; the next one is also quite unusual - and it's going to be angsty too - sorry.

7/5/12