Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin
The next day was grueling. With thousands of men to coordinate, feed, and arm, it had taken two days of nonstop marching to reach the Darkling Woods, and hours more for everyone to get settled and gain what little sleep they could. With everyone's combined efforts, three different camps, each situated in the forest at different sections around the city, were established and prepped for the battle. When the fighting breaks out, the tents would be prepped and converted into infirmaries.
They assigned Helena and one other of Lot's group to coordinate one of the camps once the battle began and the injured were plenty; Gaius held command of the camper that lie directly to the east of Camelot where Arthur's people stood at ready. Along with the strange mix of veterans and new trainees, Hunith and Gwen also came, moreto help with the injured than to participate in the fighitng. Mithian had attempted to participate as well, however Rodor had forbidden her to leave Nemeth. Though the King had given his orders to remain behind and watch over the kingdom as a way to ensure the Nemeth was not without a leader, he also wished to keep the princess from the battle in case it did not fare well.
Though he denied it, it was evident to all that Rodor, when it came down to it, wanted only for his daughter to be safe, a sentiment that Arthur whole heartedly agreed on when it came down with his own Queen. After much debate, Arthur finally relented on the matter of Gwen's involvement in the war, making her promise she would not participate in the battle and remain in the camp. Though it irritated her, Gwen settled for the compromise, relieved that she could still be by her husband's side, in a way, while she helped in the war effort.
With the camp settling, Arthur found himself in the midst of pre-battle tension, with men and women who laughed and talked quietly through the night, their minds off the chaos dawn would bring, while other chose to sharpen their swords and check their equipment. Those who would not battle could be seen walking about in the tents as they organized bandages, herbs, and other medical paraphernalia. The King of Camelot observed this as he strode through the camp, searching for Guinevere who was most likely still with Gaius and Hunith in one of the tent. He passed by more fires, his armor clinking as he tapped his fingers against the hilt of his sword and walked towards the edge where before him stood the largest of the tents, with several other smaller ones that interconnected with it, providing even more space needed for the expected flood of wounded.
Pushing aside the flap, Arthur was met with the sight of the familiar trio making last minute check that everything was where it should be. Gwen looked up from where she sat rolling bandages, gave the King a small smile before she placed the fabrics aside, and walked to Arthur. Rather than the finery the Queen had worn since crowned, she wore leather pants and tunic with muddied boots similar to what she had worn in previous times she had journey or battled. Arthur did not know from where she pulled out the outfit but it left him reminiscent to all the previous times they found themselves in this situation. He hoped this would be the last they had to do this.
Gwen pressed herself against Arthur; her arms gently encircled him as Arthur too pulled her closer into a tight hug. They stood there for a moment, relishing in each other presence while Gaius and Hunith stepped out of the tent, with small smiles, to give the royals some privacy. Arthur pressed his lip gently on the crown of his wife's head before he rested his chin against her. After a while, they pulled apart only for Arthur to catch a hold of her chin and bring her into a deep kiss.
When they pulled apart again, slightly panting, Arthur noticed Gwen's face wet with tears, which he gently wiped away.
"I have to go soon," said Arthur in a soft voice.
"Promise me you will be careful," Gwen murmured, her eyes cast downwards at the hands clenched between them. "Promise me you will come back to me safe."
Making sure he held her eyes with his own, Arthur lifted one of Gwen's hands to his lips and pressed a soft kiss against her palm.
"I promise."
"Let me walk you to edge. I want to see you as long as I can before you go," Gwen requested and gave the King's hand a small squeeze.
Arthur nodded and led the way outside into the night. He stopped for a second when he heard quiet sobs, and as he searched for the source, Gwen gave Arthur's hand a tug and nodded towards the side of the tent from where the noise originated; his face composed into one of sympathy and understanding. A few feet away stood Gaius who held onto Hunith and patted her back as he consoled her. Her sob were muffled and her tears soaked into the old physician's robe in a rare display of weakness for, aside from when she revealed Merlin's true parentage, the woman had helped the physician to her fullest with steel determination. Arthur's throat constricted as he saw Hunith who he admired for her strength in character break down before him. In respect, the King and Queen turned away from the scene and navigated their way through the camp with Gwen's hand curled around Arthur's arm.
"She's scared," Gwen began after they had walked a distance, "that she won't be able to see Merlin again. Have you figured out what you are going to do?"
Arthur didn't answer. It wasn't that he was unsure in his decision, at least not anymore. It was more that he did not want to see Guinevere's disapproving face. Arthur knew he wouldn't harm his manservant, in fact he knew he couldn't, not after all he had seen of the true nature of magic and implications of the warlock's involvements throughout everything that the King succeeded and survived in his countless adventures. What he decided, instead, was to pick between two options: banishment or acceptance.
Arthur wanted an explanation on everything. Everything the servant had done for or, as doubtful as it was, against Camelot since the servant had at first set foot into Arthur's kingdom. He wanted to choose Merlin's fate not based on past prejudice, betrayals, or even friendship, but on his past deeds. Admittedly, Arthur need for an explanation was born in part for having been lied too for years by the one friend he had always trusted, he still believed that this compromise was the only way he and Merlin would ever be able to get past their differences and move on. The King wanted to hear from the warlock himself that he could be trusted.
Arthur thought past on all the things he had forced himself to believe, to cling on. He was born and raised in distrust against magic; he could not imagine a world in which magic was good and roamed free. His dark thoughts plagued him, and he had wanted to embrace it, to denounce the loyalty and kindness of his friend in his desire to follow at least one of his father's teaching. Though he was still uneasy, Arthur was more prepared to confront Merlin the moment the kingdom had attained peace. He still felt betrayed, he still held the remnants of anger and hatred that consumed him, the mistrust, but Arthur knew that he had to force himself through the mire of negative emotions, not use it to distance himself from the situation but to meet the challenge head on, as he had always done. He would not allow mindless prejudice to blind and take control of him again.
What he was going to say the manservant, Arthur wasn't sure. He knew, however, that he would make sure the man escaped alive. He would give the man the opportunity for an explanation, whether Arthur would banish or allow him to continue employment in Camelot all went down to Merlin's confession.
Upon his revelations, Arthur felt he had for the first time since this all started a clear mind capable of making the right decision. It would be tough, but he knew whatever choice he chose in the end would be the right one for not only him but also the kingdom.
"Arthur?" Gwen asked, bringing Arthur out of his thoughts. Her eyes reflected her concern over the King's next words.
"I won't execute him if that is what you are worried about," Arthur replied, a bit defensively.
Gwen smiled, warmth once again coloring her eyes, "I never believed you would do that, not to your friend."
Arthur nodded and continued, "Yes, but I won't let him off easy. He will tell me the truth, on everything, before I decide what to do with that idiot."
Rather than disapproving, Gwen gave Arthur an even wider smile, "Good."
They finally reached the outskirts of the camp were they found the rest of infiltration team. With the usual rogue grin and lazy stance, Gwaine stood beside a small tent, with confidence and determination, in his armor as he bounced slightly off the balls of his feet in impatience. Next to him knelt Iseldir, calm and dressed in robes darker than the usual brown attire. Before him burned a fire with a small pot that stood over it; the druid grabbed the final ingredient from where he set it down on the ground and added it to the mixture. Then, after a moment of mixing, Iseldir took out a small flask from his pocket, uncapped it, and carefully poured the potion into it.
With hand wrapped around the now full flask, Arthur heard Iseldir incant, "þu beþrunge éow drýcræftas mé"
Gold flashed in the Druid's eyes, making Arthur fidget uncomfortably from where he stood. He would give magic a chance, but it didn't mean he could just forget all that e learned from since he was a babe. The druid replaced the cap, ensured it was tightened properly as to avoid losing the mixture, before he placed it in an inside pocket of his robe.
"The draught is ready, milord," Iseldir said when he noted the King and Queen's presence with a nod before he stood up. With another flash of gold, he extinguished the small fire and moved the pot into the tent. "Shall we set out?"
"Yeah, Princess, I'm tired of waiting for your precious arse," quipped Gwaine.
Arthur rolled his eyes at Gwaine, "Are you ever going to stop with that 'Princess' thing."
"Nope, you shall always be Princess," came Gwaine's smug reply. "Now, your Highness, let's move your pretty head along so that we may be able to get into position before the sun rises."
Arthur turned to Gwen and placed his hand softly against her face. The Queen closed her eyes for a moment and leaned into the hand, taking a moment to enjoy her husband presence. Then the King took a step closer, leaned in, and gave Gwen a chaste kiss on the lips.
"Be safe," Arthur murmured as he pulled back.
"You too."
Then Arthur, with one last smile to Gwen, turned to the other two men, "Alright, let's go."
The trio navigated their way into the forest. The journey took most of the night as they traveled through the trees that surrounded the city, with occasional stops to listen for approaching patrols so that they may avoid discovery. Arthur was sure that Morgana knew of the army's presence, for it was hard to keep that many men hidden for any long period of time, but their plans would be ruined if Arthur and his small group were discovered. For a moment, Arthur also worried they were not making good time when he glanced up at the stars and noted their changing position.
After a few close calls, they finally arrived at their positions. Glancing from the tree cover, Arthur, for the first time since the attack, set eyes on his beloved city; his eyes scrutinized it as if he could visually spot all the damages the Morgana had done in his absence.
"Sire," Iseldir said, "you should rest while you can, there is sometime before dawn. I will keep watch and wake you when it is time."
"Thank you, Iseldir," Arthur said with a nod before he stepped away from the edge and found a spot to lie down. Gwaine had already sat himself against a tree, his hand loosely wrapped around his sword with eyes closed. Going to another tree, Arthur soon adopted a similar position and wondered if he could even fall into the realm of sleep. It may be sometime until dawn, but the days spent planning and training felt as if it occurred decades ago to the King for it finally came time that all the effort put forth in Nemeth would come into fruition. Besides, the King felt a pang of nervousness at the thought of what he was going to find in the citadel.
It was going to be a long wait until dawn.
Morgana, with a deranged grin spread wide across her face, paced like a caged lion in anger before the throne. Behind her stood the nervous figure of one of Morgana's more promising of sorcerers. He was a middle-aged man by the name of Aubrey whose father taught him magic when he was a child and whose lessons he expanded upon with age.
Aubrey was from a long family line of successful sorcerers who passed down the art and teachings through the generations. His father had refused to allow their family tradition to end during the Purge, and with the combined efforts of his parents and, ultimately, their sacrifice, they saved Aubrey from the flames. Years later, Aubrey continued to practice sorcery and it wasn't until the previous year that Morgana had discovered him and extended an offer to bring about a new realm ruled by magic. He was hesitant at first but soon relented into subservience under Morgana. Even in his seclusion from the world, he heard and knew the extremes Morgana would willingly take and her unstable nature, but with bitterness against Camelot had done to his family cultivated during his time in isolation, Aubrey would gladly drench his hand in blood to watch the destruction of magical persecution. At least that was what he believed a year ago, but a year was a lot of time for change to occur.
Regret was the emotion that dominated Aubrey in recent days. He was accustomed to years as a hermit, drapes drawn closed at his small hut on the edge of the small, tiny really, village he lived in. He was the odd man that children spoke on in their stories to frighten each other at night. In a village he had lived in for decades, since he was a child, he was still a stranger. He never moved from his home, not since he first settled there in the care of a family friend, a friend who knew of Aubrey's plight and provided the boy a roof over his head and a warm meal. In his hermitage life, Aubrey learned his craft with the books his father had given to him when he escaped his childhood home. Since then, the only thought of Camelot he held was one of hatred and nothing more. Any thoughts of revenge passed fleetingly through his mind for it was inconceivable to him that he could do much on his own against an entire kingdom.
It seemed, however, that his thoughts of revenge were strong enough to encourage an alliance with Morgana herself and it was a decision he had come to regret since she took the throne. Too many, there were too many innocents that were slaughtered, many of which anyone with a rational mind could had avoided. Aubrey wished he could go back to his little hut, back to when Morgana first showed up on his doorsteps, and refuse the witch, but he was in too deep and his hands were soaked in blood of many, too many. He felt as if he had sacrificed his soul to the cause, sold away his morals and pride for revenge.
He felt ashamed for what he had done, for when he enjoyed driving out King and Queen from their home the way Uther had drove him from his; however, his enjoyment was short lived as the realization of what he caused to Camelot struck him. Aubrey remembered the corpses that lined the streets, civilians killed only for being on the way to the citadel at the center. The sorcerer shuddered when he remembered the dead children he had stumbled upon and though he had wanted to leave, to turn his back against the witch and the darkness that tainted all she touched, Aubrey realized with horror that by not fighting against the "enemy" he would be committing an act of treason. If he believed his escape was impossible before, it was even more so after Tara was killed; her death left a void in the command structure for the sorcerers. Morgana may had been the final law, but Tara served her purpose in organizing group while she gleefully carried out each and every order from Morgana. With her gone, Morgana had chosen Aubrey to lead, not for his loyalty to the witch, but because he had been just as powerful as Tara had while he also lacked the backbone to stand against the witch. His fear forced him to lead her men and though he hated every moment his orders killed another innocent, being in command also allowed him to protect a few people who would have otherwise been killed.
The moment Geoffrey of Monmouth was forced to have Morgana crowned, she began to round all sorcerers she could find under her control. The royal court of Camelot that had been unable to escape remained in the shadow of fear for when Morgana would tire of them. She killed men, women, and children when they dared to speak against the witch and executions became even more common than during the Purge. When the witch began her rule, Aubrey finally realized the depth of her insanity, insanity that was now unmasked as she paced.
"What fool believes he could go against the might of magic," Morgana laughed, "Arthur dares underestimate me? His pathetic knights will be slaughtered."
She didn't care for her own people, just her excitement on finally eliminating the King, was all Aubrey thought when he replied, "Milady, perhaps we should prepare for battle and go to them?"
"Let them come," Morgana dismissed, and the glee twisted into a snarl. "What I want to know is why now? This reeks of Emrys' doing. Who else can convince Arthur into the offensive?"
She didn't even blink when Tara died, and the sorceress was the most loyal. "Then I will prepare the sorcerers and army for an attack in the outer fields."
Morgana suddenly stopped and turned to him, her face inches from his, "Do it, but Arthur is mine. You are to find and capture him. I want you to bring him to me. The gods have mercy on you if anyone dares kill him."
Morgana stepped away, returned to her pacing, and began to think aloud, "Emrys has to be the one instigating this. That blasted servant is practically useless to me now, might as well kill him."
The servant, the source of much of the witch's juxtaposition of ire and amusement, had often been looked on with pity. Aubrey had seen the loyalists sneer at mere mention of the man's name, others give indifferent looks, and yet the rest, such as himself, wince. It was common knowledge amongst her army what Morgana sought and the extent she would go to find it. When it all began, many of the loyalist placed bets on how long the servant would last; none expected the servant to last this long.
"Would you want me to send someone to do it," offered Aubrey, thinking on who could perform a mercy killing, give the man a swift end to his suffering. As quick and painless as possible after the months the man had been forced through.
"No, he is not of my concern. I pushed him too far last time," Morgana smiled and her eyes distant in a moment of happiness, though the source of her cheer was far from being happy. "His mind has already broken, he won't survive for long."
The sorcerer felt a shiver run down his spine. He pitied the man who had met such a fate; death would have been preferred.
Morgana placed a thoughtful finger against her chin as she pondered the situation more, "Emrys is definitely behind this attack. Perhaps if we can capture Arthur we can lure him out into the open. Once my brother is in our grasp, it will be easy to kill him. Either Emrys shows up or Arthur dies. When Emrys reveals himself, I am confident that that coward won't be much of a threat when he is not cowering in the shadows.
"Aubrey, prepare the men. If I know my brother, I know he will attack at dawn; I rather we fight in the open rather than the trees, that way it'll be easier to find him."
"Yes, milady," said Aubrey with a bow and left. He made his way down the hall and thought of the witch. She would do anything to kill this Emrys and of all things he witnessed during his time with the witch, it was only Emrys she feared. Aubrey hoped that fear was for good reason. Whoever this Emrys person was, he was perhaps the only one capable of stopping Morgana.
Aubrey sighed.
It was time to gather the sorcerers and pass on the message to start preparations. They were about to enter into battle, and a bloody one at that based on the numbers the patrol had reported earlier in the night. As Aubrey walked, he noted all the chimeras, savage terrible beasts; they slinked past him in what he could assume was a gathering. It looked like Morgana wasn't going to take chances and send in her creatures to ensure she got what she wanted.
It would be a long, bloody battle indeed.
They had moved out when the sky began to brighten. Leon stood at the front of the formation of soldiers, leading the group directly from the east. To the north were Lot and his men and south Rodor, as ready as they would ever be for combat. By him stood Percival and Elyan, both armored and with swords belted in place. Though Leon was acting as command, his two brother-in-arms had as much authority as he, prepared to face the day with determination and confidence that many associated to a knight of Camelot. Around them was a mix of fellow knights, who had escaped the kingdom, and those whom they had trained. A handful of druids were dispersed amongst them as well, doing last minute enchantments on armor and weapons. Together, they walked through the Darkling Woods and reached the edge, with the camps full of healers to their backs as they faced the challenges that lie ahead of them, across the fields.
It seemed, though not surprising, that Morgana had mobilized her men around the castle in the direction of the attack; Morgana's own sorcerers stood with grim determination as the soldiers stood at attention. In front of them, and all around, crouched the chimeras, intermingled among the opposing army. They hissed and snarled at the invaders general direction, ready to wet their maws in blood.
Arthur and the other Kings had guessed Morgana would push her advantage to the frontline, for they did not have much to combat against those monsters. Therefore, they decided all around that they would have to strike back with a surprise of their own. So when the chimeras rose from their crouch and began to make their way across the fields, all Leon did in response was nod to the nearest Druid, a young woman, barely past adulthood, by the name of Emma who acknowledged the command and began to incant. Few seconds later, after she finished the incantation with a hand raised towards the sky, her eyes flashed gold and she shot a bolt of light into the sky. Across the field, a wave of confusion seemed to affect the army but otherwise they remained where they were, waiting for the chimeras to make short work of the enemy.
The chimeras were slow in their procession at first, as if they wanted to savor the moment while they also gave their prey a chance to run or attack. After the initial start, they began to pick up speed as they stretched their paws further out into longer strides Leon felt a slight twinge of anxiety as the large creatures barreled towards them, the sounds of hundreds of padded feet pounding against the ground echoed across the field. From his peripheral vision, Leon saw more chimeras charging towards Lot and Rodor's men.
It was when the chimeras were about halfway when a deafening roar boomed from above the battlefield. Aided by powerful muscles, the dragons flew with speed and agility, with jaws thrown open in their roars, displaying their dagger like teeth. Together, before the startled chimeras could make a move, the dragons cut off their roar as they tilted their body to the ground and pulled their wings close their bodies. They sped towards the creatures and, in unison, opened their maws wide; from between a great burst of flames erupted towards the chimeras. Once close to the ground, they split apart and each took care of opposite sides of the battlefield, dousing the monsters in flames. The chimeras hissed and shrieked as they tried to dodge the flames with variety degrees of success. Behind the creatures, the sorcerers conjured shields to protect the rest of the army from the inferno.
Leon gave silent thanks to the two as they carried on their onslaught. Then, with their enemy distracted, Leon unsheathed his blade and raised it to the sky as he shouted his orders to attack. All around him the fighters mimicked his actions and charged after Leon, along with Elyan and Percival, across the field. Behind them, their crossbowman fired their weapons while the druids swiftly moved through the crowd with spells on their lips, hand outstretched for magic and sword readied in their other.
The battle had begun
At first light, Arthur was shaken awake, forced out of fresh nightmares, by Gwaine.
"Beauty sleep's over, Princess."
Arthur nodded and followed Gwaine to join Iseldir at the edge, careful to remain in the shadows.
"Her army is organized beyond the city walls," Iseldir informed Arthur, his eyes still on the city.
Arthur shook his head, "It's easier for us to fight in close spaces; she still outnumbers us. But we can't afford to fight within the city walls, too many civilians will be pulled in."
They stood and waited in silence, tense as they searched for the signal. Arthur wanted to make sure the battle had started before entering the city. This ensured that the least amount of attention would be on who was entering the city and more on the battle on the other side. This was another advantage for the battle not taking place in the walls along with it allowing them to minimalize innocents' deaths.
"There it is," mumbled the Druid as he heard the dull roars echo. Arthur swallowed; so the dragons had begun their attack.
"Time to go," Arthur said.
With a chant, Iseldir casted an enchantment on the three, one he claimed would provide a camouflage of sorts as a means to hide them from unwanted eyes. Though if the guards focused on them, they would be discovered, as for a passing glance, it would work perfectly fine. After it was cast, the three ran quickly and quietly towards the city.
AN: It has been too long. Two weeks feel like forever to take to update and unfortunately this updating time might have to stay until my summer break. I don't have time much time to spend editing so I'll update the best I can. Biweekly update will probably continue for about the next six weeks (until uni is over) -_- . I'm really, really sorry about this. Also this chapter is little shorter than usual but necessary, so I hope none of you guys mind that too much! There might be missing "r", by the way, the "r" button on my computer is being stubborn.
Anyways thanks you guys so much for all the reviews, I love reading through them! They definitely brighten my day! ^^ And thank you to everyone who has favorite/alerted my story!
And as always, reviews and constructive criticism are welcomed!
One more thing I forgot to mention, at some point I'm going to actually change the cover art of this fic (as much as I love the TARDIS, I want something to actually represents this fic), does anyone have any suggestions?