Author's Note: All right, drum roll please...Kilgharrah makes his debut this chapter! And I have to say that writing him is actually a lot of fun. Here's hoping I even came close to keeping him in character. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.


Chapter Eight

When Mordred left Senga at her father's house, he was still agonizing over the decision he had to make before dawn. He wandered the lower town, taking the most circuitous route to the citadel that he possibly could. A pair of guards passed him, talking quietly; they nodded to him as he passed. But then one of them said something that caught his ear. Mordred stood frozen for a moment, half convinced he had heard incorrectly, and realized he needed to know for certain. So he chased after them.

"Pardon me," Mordred called, and the guards finally turned to greet him. He exchanged pleasantries impatiently before he got a chance to ask. "What were you talking about just a moment ago?"

They shared an uncertain glance.

"Neither of you will get in any trouble for anything you say to me," Mordred assured them. "I hadn't heard the rumor, is all."

The taller of the two raised an eyebrow. "It's not a rumor, Sir Mordred. I overheard the king himself say it. That Druid girl he brought in tried to kill him. She didn't even know who he was until after he disarmed her."

Mordred barely remembered to thank the man before he took off running for the dungeon. He didn't stop running until he reached Kara's cell.

"Is it true?" he demanded, out of breath and suddenly—rather absurdly—thankful he wasn't wearing chainmail.

"Is what true?" Kara asked, a frown furrowing her brow.

"Did you try to kill Arthur? Before you even knew who he was? When for all you knew, he was just a soldier of Camelot, perhaps with a wife and children at home? Did you try to kill a man for just doing his job? Did you try to kill a man for no good reason?"

She hesitated.

Mordred could feel all the emotions he thought he had cried out welling up within him again. This time, for once, he did not even try to hold them back. "What in the goddess's name happened to you, Kara? You were kind once. You were gentle, and sweet. You hesitated to kill a spider. And now you go around leading Saxon raids and trying to kill the soldiers who track you down?" He heard footsteps behind him and then low voices; distantly, he realized he was shouting at her.

"Why are you angry with me?" Kara demanded. "It's only because of Camelot's laws that I did any of it."

"No," Mordred shook his head. "No, you will not blame Camelot. You chose your path, Kara. You chose and you are responsible for your own actions. Morgana may have twisted you into becoming a killer, she may have poisoned your mind against Arthur, but you chose to go to her, didn't you? You wanted to be a tool she could use against Camelot." His hands curled into fists. He could feel his magic rising, stirring his blood, crackling in the air; everything in the room not built into a wall began to tremble and shake. The bars of her cell, however, remained perfectly still. "I am not the one who betrayed the Druids, Kara. You did."

She jerked back as if he had struck her.

Mordred stared her down until she turned away from him.

"Mordred."

His eyes slipped shut. There was no mistaking that voice. The unbridled rush of emotion left just as quickly as it had arrived, leaving him feeling empty and drained and on the edge of exhaustion. His magic retreated as well, allowing the room to fall still once more, and his hands fell limp at his sides. He heaved a deep breath and prayed that Senga would forgive him for being a reckless fool. Then he turned to face his king. Mordred fell to his knees, ready to receive any reprimand, and slowly raised his head to look Arthur in the eye.

But the words that left Arthur's mouth were not the ones he expected.

"I finally remembered you," the king said. "When we met three years ago, you said I'd saved your life once. I'll admit I did not have the slightest idea what you were talking about then. But I do now."

Mordred swallowed, hard. He could read nothing of what Arthur was thinking.

"You were the Druid boy I helped Merlin and Morgana get out of Camelot, aren't you?"

Mordred nodded. "Yes, sire. That was me."

"Merlin confirmed it for me first, just a little while ago," Arthur said, gesturing to Merlin, who stood slightly behind him. "Although it is nice to finally hear the truth from you."

"I only hid it from you because I had to, my lord," Mordred said quietly, knowing even as he spoke that the king would not appreciate debating the finer points. "If you had asked me directly, I would never have lied."

Arthur studied him a moment. Mordred, feeling oddly brave, refused to lower his gaze. "Merlin," the king finally said, "go and tell the guards all is well."

"Arthur," Merlin started to protest.

"Go," Arthur ordered, turning just enough to glare at his servant.

Merlin left reluctantly, tossing one final suspicious glance at Mordred before disappearing up the stairs.

"Tell me, Mordred," Arthur said slowly, "what makes a Druid want to be a knight of Camelot?"

"There are prophecies about you, Arthur," Mordred answered. Since he now had nothing more to lose, he may as well be completely honest. "Prophecies about the Once and Future King who brings peace to the five kingdoms. Peace requires acceptance. Acceptance of everyone, including those with magic. And there is nothing true Druids love more than peace and acceptance."

Arthur's mouth twitched upward at that, as if he wanted to smile at Mordred's slightly dry tone but would not allow himself to. "Is that it? You heard stories about a mythical ruler when you were a child and decided it was me?"

"The prophecies included your name, Arthur Pendragon. I wasn't guessing it was you; I knew. Some events are set in stone from before the dawn of time. Your rule was one such event. You are destined to be the greatest king this land has ever seen, and I wanted to support your efforts in any way I could. The Druids have been waiting for your arrival for a very long time."

Arthur appeared slightly unnerved. "You have magic," he stated.

"You saw it with your own eyes. I was born with it. My magic is not as powerful as some." Mordred spoke carefully, not wanting to let slip the name Emrys by accident in case Arthur had heard it before. The identity of Emrys was not his secret to tell. "Morgana is more powerful than I, for instance. But those of us born with the gift are rare. Most have to study and learn to use it."

"Is it always so…chaotic?"

"No, only when I allow my emotions to get the better of me."

Arthur narrowed his eyes. "Have you ever used it in Camelot before today?"

"Never in Camelot. I used it once against Morgana."

"The Cauldron of Arianrhod," Arthur guessed and Mordred confirmed with a nod. "I knew you couldn't escape Morgana with only your sword." Arthur stared at him for a moment, face as hard and unforgiving as the wall behind him. "I'm beginning to wonder if I know you at all, Mordred."

"My magic and Druid blood are the only things I kept hidden, Arthur," Mordred said quietly. "I've been honest in everything else."

Arthur sighed and turned to pace around the small room. "I came here expecting to find you breaking Kara out. Why didn't you?"

Mordred resisted the urge to glance over his shoulder. "Because she has chosen her path, and though it breaks my heart, I must let her walk it and face the consequences of her choices."

"You are not renouncing your loyalty to the Druids, are you?"

"I cannot renounce loyalty that lives in my blood."

"Yet neither are you renouncing your loyalty to Camelot."

Mordred's stomach shriveled into a tight knot. "No, sire, I am not. I believe in you, Arthur. I believe in the future you are destined to create. I have abided by all the kingdom's laws since I arrived in Camelot, save the one that bans my people. Yes, I am Druid, but I am also a loyal knight of Camelot. I can be both."

Arthur finally stopped pacing and stared at him again. "You're putting me in a very difficult situation."

"I know, and I am sorry. I had hoped not to tell you until the laws against Druids were changed."

Arthur sent him an arch look. "You knew this too, of course. One of your prophecies declared it."

"As I said, peace requires acceptance. And acceptance requires an open mind and fair laws."

Shaking his head, Arthur paced around in yet another circle. When he stopped, he was still shaking his head. "I can't decide what to do with you right now. I need to think, Mordred, long and hard about what the best course of action is."

Mordred nodded, slightly disappointed. "Which cell is to be mine?"

The king hesitated. "None," he finally said. "You are confined to the castle until I make up my mind. One of the other knights will be with you at all times. You are not to carry any weapons. Any attempt to flee, any use of magic, any attack on anyone, and your life is forfeit. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sire." Mordred winced slightly as he stood; his knees ached from being pressed against the cold stone floor. He watched Arthur disappear up the stairs before turning back to Kara. "You see, Kara? I chose the right side after all."

She sniffed, glancing at him with contempt in her gaze. "You're deluding yourself, Mordred. He won't change the laws for you. You're as good as exiled."

"I am sorry for whatever happened to push you to Morgana," he softly said.

"It was you," she spat back at him. "Remember the day you disappeared? When Camelot soldiers came and attacked the entire camp of Druids you were with? That day drove me forward. Oh, I always hoped you survived, but as far as anyone could tell, you were slain by men of Camelot. I swore I would never forgive them for that."

Mordred had thought it wasn't possible for his heart to break any more than it already had. He was wrong. "Kara, do you remember nothing we were taught as children? The human soul cannot survive when burdened with such hatred. You forgot the prophecies about Arthur, about Albion, you didn't even recognize Emrys despite being in his presence three times. I am sorry it has to end this way, and I do not think I will be able to watch you die, but I am not sorry for choosing to remain with Arthur."

Kara turned away from him with a snarl. "I wish I'd never met you, Mordred."

Mordred turned and walked away. It was harder than he'd expected.

But apparently she wasn't quite finished with him.

"It was that girl, wasn't it?" Kara's voice crept out of her cell again, hard with jealousy. "She's the reason you choose tyrants over your own people."

Anger flared hot within Mordred, making his blood boil in an instant. He took a deep breath and made sure he had control of his magic. He didn't even turn to look at Kara. "Her name is Senga. She is everything you turned your back on, everything you should have been. She is the granddaughter of a high priestess. She is the woman I love. And one day, she will be the woman I marry."

He left the dungeon without another word.


As soon as Arthur dismissed him, Merlin headed for the outskirts of Camelot. He called Kilgharrah as he ran through the trees, hoping the dragon would make good time, because he desperately needed someone to talk to. Someone who could actually help him make sense of everything that was happening. Merlin was so caught up in his own head that he did not realize when the earth first began to shake. In fact, he didn't notice until it pitched and rolled like a wave on the ocean underneath his feet, throwing him headlong into a tree. The impact was not hard enough to knock him unconscious, thankfully, but he knew he'd have one hell of a headache for a day or two. Merlin staggered to his feet and hurried on to meet the dragon.

"Did you feel that, young warlock?" Kilgharrah demanded as soon as he landed.

"I felt the earth toss me into a tree, if that's what you mean," Merlin answered, gingerly checking for blood.

"Something has changed," the dragon pronounced.

Merlin almost snarled his reply but caught himself just in time. "Well that's very helpful, thank you."

"Merlin," Kilgharrah said slowly, "I do not think you understand my meaning."

"Please explain it to me then, because right now I have Arthur insisting on a private meeting with the man destined to kill him, a Druid girl about to be executed for an attack against Camelot soldiers, and a splitting headache. It's a bit much to deal with all at once. And did I mention that Arthur now knows Mordred is a Druid? And that Mordred is very much in love with a girl who just happens to be Gwen's maid? So I've had to keep an eye on both of them!"

"If you're quite finished, young warlock," the dragon growled.

Merlin, slightly abashed, only nodded.

"As you know, there are some events that have been set in stone since before the dawn of time. Only very rarely does one of these events not come to pass. That is precisely what happened tonight. Something, in fact, did not happen. The entire course of the future has changed, and the earth itself has recognized this fact."

Merlin grappled with what the dragon said, trying to understand it and failing. He blamed it on the pounding in his skull. "What does that mean?"

Kilgharrah lowered his snout until it was almost level with Merlin's head. "That means, young warlock, that everything I have told you about the future of Albion may not be accurate."

Merlin's shoulders slumped. "So all the prophecies, all the warnings, they might not be true anymore? I can't trust any of it?"

"Precisely."

"Because one thing did not happen?"

"Because one very important thing did not happen."

Merlin paced around in a circle, reaching to run a hand through his hair but stopping the motion before he found the lump from hitting the tree. "There's absolutely no way of knowing now. Mordred might kill Arthur, but he might not. Arthur might die at Camlann, but he might not. This is horrible."

"On the contrary," Kilgharrah said with what passed for a dragon smile, "this is fascinating. There's no telling where the future will go. I may see Albion in my lifetime. Good luck, young warlock."

And with that, the dragon took to the skies, leaving Merlin staring up at him. "You're not helpful at all!" he yelled at the dragon's retreating outline. Then he began the slow trek back to Camelot.


Back in the dungeon, Kara murmured a few words into the still night air. The quake had not touched Camelot proper and so she remained unaware of any changes wrought this night. Soon enough, a raven landed on the ground outside the barred window with its holes just large enough for her to slip her fingers through and attach a short note to the bird's leg. She sent it off with another short command, and prayed for favorable winds.

Not long after dawn, after Kara met her end in Camelot, the raven found its mistress waiting in her stronghold. The woman held a cold beauty; it was a beauty of things that used to be: eyes that used to smile, a mouth that used to laugh, a lithe body that used to delight in dancing and sparring and anything else that pushed its limits. She unwrapped the note, careful not to tear it, and a slow smile spread across her face as she read the few short words. She stroked the raven along its breast.

"It seems she was useful after all," Morgana purred, and the raven cawed in response. She read the note again, her eyes gleaming with the thrill of victory.

I am to hang at dawn, but I can serve you one last time. Emrys is in Camelot. His name is Merlin.


Next chapter: knights of the Round Table react to finding out about Mordred. Lots of brotherly angst and love and all that good stuff. It was a fun chapter to write, in case you can't tell :)

Don't hesitate to let me know what you think!