"Cause you're my king and I'm your lionheart."
- Of Monsters and Men
Rather than changing into the red robe he had always worn before as Dragoon, Merlin had practiced a relatively simple spell to lay a glamour over himself and simply give the illusion that that was what he was wearing. In reality, he had on his every day brown jacket, blue shirt, red neckerchief, and black trousers which were much more comfortable and provided better ease of movement. It was an odd sensation; to feel something that he could not see, and see something that he could not feel.
Withdrawing a little bottle of the familiar light blue potion out of the small bag he carried, Gaius slowly approached Merlin, looking as though he was having some kind of internal struggle.
Reaching out his hand for the potion Gaius placed it in Merlin's palm, but he didn't relinquish the bottle. Sensing that Gaius had something to say Merlin waited for him to speak.
Looking at Merlin with baleful eyes, Gaius suddenly looked much older than he usually did. "Have you ever wondered if your destiny asks too much of you?"
Merlin shook his head slightly, "I don't let myself. And even if it wasn't my destiny, I would because he's my best friend. " It was the first time he had said those exact words aloud, and at that moment Merlin realized how true that was. If Arthur died it would be like losing a part of himself, he would forever be incomplete. Gently he took the potion from Gaius, "Thank you Gaius, for everything. You've shown me what it's like to have a father."
Eyes bright, Gaius reached for Merlin and hugged him tightly. In that silent embrace Merlin felt how precious he was to Gaius. If he died, he hoped that Gaius wouldn't blame himself.
Returning the hug; Merlin closed his eyes as he tried to memorize this moment. They stayed like that for a long time before Merlin gently pulled away, smiling "I will return" he said with more conviction than he felt.
Gaius smiled back, but Merlin could see it was just as forced as his own, "I know. When have you not?"
It was as though the weather couldn't decide if it wanted to be cloudy or sunny, and seemed to be compromising by alternating between the two. There was a slight breeze, although it too was acting rather fickle.
Arthur was marched with his Knights along the front lines, his wrists were tied in front of him but there was no other form of restraint. After all what could he do? There was no hope of escaping on their own. He was lead to the middle of Carleon's front line, and forced to his knees facing his own army. At the sight of their King Camelot's men shifted angrily, but Queen Jezebel nodded to a soldier who immediately seized a fistful of Arthur's hair and pressed a dagger threateningly to his throat, only withdrawing it when they had settled.
They were positioned with Jezebel's army facing Camelot's, about fifty yards dividing them. Caerleon's Knights, Queen Jezebel, and Morgana stood front and centre, and mirrored across from them were the remaining Knights of Camelot, Gwen, Gaius, and Emrys. Where in the world was Merlin? He hadn't been there when Emrys had been announced champion either. Had something happened to him?
He zeroed in on Emrys and turned all his attention back to his simmering anger: both at the fact he was being paraded before his men like an animal at some fairground show, and that magic was being used in the name of Camelot. And yet even he could see the sense in using magic to fight magic. He couldn't deny that no normal warrior could defeat Morgana; they just didn't have anything to match her power. But if it had been left to him, would he have been able to make the same decision?
What baffled him most about this situation was that any sorcerer was willing to take the chance of dying for him, and for Camelot. What was his motive? What was he getting out of this arrangement? Arthur hoped that he would live long enough to learn the reasons for Emrys's actions.
While he did not trust Queen Jezebel, he did think that she would keep her end of the bargain. He however had no confidence whatsoever in this Emrys's abilities- he looked simply like a doddery old man. Inside he knew that that wasn't true, but surely the physical strength and agility of the warrior would have a large part to play in this battle, particularly in the first seven minutes.
Remembering how frightened Morgana had looked for just a moment when Emrys first entered the tent, and felt a little reassured. There must be a good reason; he knew better than most how much it took to genuinely frighten Morgana.
He was proud of Guinevere; so far she'd handled the disastrous situation marvelously. Standing at the front of Camelot's army even at this distance she appeared not only calm and composed, but also fiercely determined and confident. The very picture of how a Queen should be in this situation. He only hoped she was right in trusting the sorcerer who could very well have killed his father.
Merlin had to resist the urge to pace, and instead to stand calmly beside Gwen. There was a very large gap, perhaps about fifty yards, between the two armies and Merlin supposed that that was where he and Morgana would fight. Casting his eyes over the area where the battle was to take place Merlin noted with relief that while it was scattered with various size rocks, he wouldn't have to pay very much attention to where he was stepping.
Hand straying to the hilt of excalibur, Merlin found some comfort in the cool feel of the metal and leather.
Even from this distance Merlin could see that Arthur was smoldering with anger, for reasons that weren't very hard to guess at. He could only imagine how hurt his pride must be.
Sensing the tension and anxiety coming off Gwen in waves, though he doubted that anybody else but Arthur had noticed. In fact she visibly appeared extremely composed, standing tall and confidently. It was hard to believe she was the same serving girl who had approached him as his second day in Camelot while he had been locked in the stocks. He wanted to reassure her, but in his current form he had to be cautious not to seem too familiar. After a moment's thought he settled for something simple and honest, "I will not fail you my Lady."
Gwen nodded to him, giving him a strained smile of gratitude, "Return Arthur and the Knights to us safely, please. I thank you Emrys, and wish you luck."
After giving her a small bow, Merlin before proceeding to walk across the large stretch of open ground that separated the two armies. Morgana did the same and they met in the middle, staring at each other with open hostility.
The rules of a magical duel between champions were different, so they were to be announced by a rather scrawny squire who had followed at what he considered a safe distance from Morgana.
He cleared his throat nervously, "You will duel for seven minutes without any magic, if you do use magic before the seven minutes are up you will forfeit the match. If, after this time, the winner is apparent then they will have the choice of sparing their opponent, rather than fighting to the death. There is no surrendering, as when you agreed to be champions you took on the obligation of fighting to the best of your ability, whatever that may be." Merlin noticed that the squire looked extremely anxious; in fact he could be called terrified. He was standing rather close to two very powerful magical beings, all on his own and without any way to defend himself. "You will begin at the sound of the horn, which will then sound a second time to mark the end of seven minutes if the fight is still going." He finished and scurried away, obviously relieved to be emerging from the experience alive.
Crossing swords they stared intently at each other. Merlin knew he could not best Morgana when it came to fighting with a blade, but he also knew his magic was more powerful than hers. For some reason however, that didn't boost his confidence.
Everything rested on this- this fight would determine the future of Albion and never before had he felt the weight of his destiny as much as he did now. All he had to do was last seven minutes, then at the sound of the horn he could use his magic. He had been able to hold her off once before in the catacombs beneath the castle, he hoped he could do it again. He must to do it again. They took their positions and, as the horn sounded, began to slowly circle each other.
Morgana attacked without warning and he ducked beneath her first swing. She quickly reversed it and he blocked it with his sword just in time, grimacing as the impact jarred his arms. He struck back, only to miss as she darted away.
They began to circle once more, assessing each other warily. It was obvious she hadn't expected him to have any skill with a blade, and he was rather surprised himself. If he had been using any other sword, he knew he would never be able to fight like this. But there was something about Excalibur that heightened his senses and increased his reflexes, enough to let him hold his own against her. Instead of the awkward feeling he got holding any other sword, it felt comfortable in his hand, like an extension of his own arm: was this how Arthur felt whenever he wielded a sword?
He stepped forward and thrust but Morgana skipped aside, dancing in close and slashing for his chest. He knocked away her sword, and beginning to feel a little more confident he feinted high then twisted his sword and came up from beneath. She turned away from him, moving her sword to parry his before retaliating with a thrust of her own, which he just managed to dodge before stepping back, out of range. If he had truly been as old as he looked he never would be able to move so nimbly, but unfortunately he wasn't feeling twenty-two either.
Merlin felt rather stressed as their fight continued, exchanging blow after blow until his arms were sore from the effort of blocking her attacks. How much time had passed? Surely the horn would sound soon: then he would have the advantage. He felt something wet and warm on his shoulder and realized his stitches must have torn, reopening the wound from the bolt.
Eventually he misjudged a strike and her sword grazed his arm, ripping the clothes but luckily opening only a shallow cut. He brought his sword up hard, slamming his blade hilt-to-hilt with Morgana's. There was a ring of clashing metal, and the downward sweep of her sword was stopped.
Bearing down on their locked blades Morgana lunged back, then forward again; her left foot connecting solidly with his chest and he crashed to the ground, stunned. He saw a flash of steel and rolled aside just in time, her sword point striking and sticking into the ground where he had been only moments before.
Suddenly the horn sounded and Morgana opened her mouth, but Merlin was faster "Forþ fleoge!"
Morgana was blasted back, landing hard on the ground, but he hadn't put enough effort into the spell because she rather annoyingly sat up after only a few seconds. "Forbærne Ácwele!" a ball of fire coalesced in her palm, which she then hurled towards him. Rather than shielding he merely dodged to one side before realizing his mistake: the ball of fire was now hurtling straight towards Camelot's soldiers.
Cursing to himself, Merlin half turned, raising a hand and snagging the ball of fire with a tendril of his own magic, dispelling it only feet away from the panicking front line.
The momentary distraction cost him however, and he felt some kind of blunt force smash between his shoulder blades, knocking the breath from his lungs and sending him flying forwards onto his stomach. If he'd still had the body of a twenty two year old it wouldn't have taken him very long to recover, but as an old man he was much weaker.
Even as Merlin gasped for breath he pushed himself up on one elbow, slamming his other hand against the ground. "Ic þe bebiede þæt þu abifest nu." He shot his energy deep into the ground and the earth began to shake, a great fissure opened up beneath Morgana. Only by casting a shield beneath her own feet to help propel herself away was she able to prevent herself from being swallowed by the very earth itself.
Getting to his feet, Merlin noted grimly that she had got much better since the last time they fought.
"Fleoge!" she swept her arm towards him and her discarded sword rose off the ground, shooting itself straight at his face He raised one hand, "Culter, ic þe healte!" the sword stopped a foot away from him. With another flash of his eyes he spun it around and sent it right back at her with a thrust of his palm. Morgana ducked just in time and it went over her head, soon falling to the ground before it could strike a Saxon soldier.
Merlin could see the desperation in her eyes as they continued, and it soon became obvious to the general audience that Emrys was the more powerful of the two.
He hurled a fireball which struck the ground in front of Morgana, "Cume poden!" The burst of flame which had flared up when it hit the ground suddenly became a fire tornado, roaring towards Morgana.
Throwing up both arms, Morgana was visibly panicked "Miere torr sweoloþhat!" The fire tornado was blown apart, but the explosion blasted Morgana away as well. It would have done the same to Merlin if he hadn't been able to throw a shield up just in time, having learned the hard way what happens when those two spells were used together.
She lay still on the ground, gasping. He approached her slowly "Ic babied fealle." he murmured and roots sprouted from the ground, winding around her arms and ankles, holding her down.
Morgana stared up at him, her mouth open but in her fear obviously unable to think of a spell.
"I'm sorry it came to this Morgana. "Ástrí-" Merlin stopped mid spell as a strong tingling feeling slowly spread throughout his body. He went rapidly from confused, to horrified understanding- which then quickly led to panic – the effects of the aging potion were ending.
In that moment Morgana took the opportunity to sever the roots holding her down "Onbind tha tease." The roots were severed and she rolled away, scrambling rather inelegantly to her feet and backing away.
The magical energy that had been coalescing in his palm disappeared as he staggered back. Looking at his hands he felt the effects of the aging potion fade away, and in his panic was unable to call to mind the spell he would need to continue the illusion as he had always simply used the aging potion. Soon he was standing there, his twenty two year old self once again.
It was a perfect moment of opportunity for Morgana, but rather than attacking, just like everybody else who could see she simply stared in astonishment, mouth slightly open in shock. Merlin was a sorcerer. Merlin had magic. Merlin was Emrys.
Forgetting the danger, impulsively Merlin turned, his eyes finding Arthur. He was close enough to see his expression clearly, and had never seen Arthur look so confused: it would have been almost comical had the situation not been so dire.
Since it didn't matter anymore he let the glamour disguising his clothes fall away and was left standing in his worn brown jacket, red neckerchief , blue shirt, dark brown pants, and his brown leather boots.
"Merlin, behind you!" Screamed Arthur in warning, his voice panicked.
While Merlin had been distracted Morgana had recovered from her initial shock, and even with Arthur's warning he had no chance to move before Morgana thrust the dagger she had kept tucked in her belt into his side at an upwards angle., the blade slipping neatly between his ribs and plunging straight through where Morgana knew his heart to be.
A/N
So people, what do you think about the fight scene and reveal? Next update will come soon- big plot twist!
Question- do you think I should put the spells in italics?