A/N: Thanks to Naisa, Laughy-Taffy the Grape (formerly Starts with a D), DarkAngel2112, Dodo123, and Randomanime456 for reviewing last chapter! Here's the next chapter, please enjoy and review.
Oh, and… *cough* For those of you wondering about last chapter's title, sorry. My friend ShadowsBloodPain was next to me and really wanted to name it that. So I decided to humor the crazy person.
Chapter Nine
"The Castle of Fyrien," Arthur said in a whisper, looking up.
Merlin leaned back a little to get a better view of the castle. It was big, scary, and looming in a way that reminded Merlin of Morgause back when she'd had him tied up in the forest. Merlin gave an inadvertent shiver. Not a good memory.
To get here, they'd crossed hilly land onto this piece of land that jutted out into the sea. The whole time, Merlin knew that anyone looking out of a window facing the right direction could see them… Luckily, the castle that had once belonged to a merchant, built to withstand anything, was rather short on windows. All the same, they tried to keep their horses out of sight. Eventually, when the grassy land ended, they'd tied their horses to the last tree around and continued on foot, just like they had done when they rescued Elyan.
Now they were traversing the land on foot to the castle. Merlin doubted anyone could see them now—this part of the land was just rocks. Rocks, rocks, more rocks… It was boring to the eyes to see so much gray, and it hurt the feet too. Piles of rocks. Mountains of rocks. Flat land with cracked rocks.
Very interesting.
Merlin rolled his eyes to himself and kept walking. Arthur was just behind him, and that felt wrong. Merlin's place was to follow a step behind his master, but for this trip, Arthur seemed to be following just behind Merlin. It made Merlin, the servant, feel dizzy. He kept looking for Arthur and finding him in the wrong spot. Merlin couldn't help himself: he liked it when Arthur was in charge of the trip, and he was just in charge of the snarky comments.
But this was Merlin's quest.
"You know, you should have at least brought a sword," Arthur said in his ear, and Merlin shrugged.
"Why didn't you bring a spare?"
"I didn't think you would go somewhere so dangerous unarmed, idiot!"
Merlin resisted the urge to point out that if Arthur hadn't insisted on tagging along, he would have been armed. But that would lead to awkward questions.
There was a moment of silence while they ducked behind a rock formation – one that Merlin thought looked remarkably like the king's profile – and studied the castle for any approaching guards or sorceresses.
"I don't see anyone," he muttered to himself. "At least we know Cenred's gone, eh?"
"Who should be on guard?" asked Arthur. "Is there even anyone here?"
Your half sister and her half sister. You know, the evil ones. Merlin decided, once again, to just purposely avoid telling Arthur the truth. "I'm not sure who would be on guard… But knowing them, it'll be somebody."
"Knowing who?"
"Probably someone big. With a lot of weapons. And those chains."
"Chains? When have you encountered chains?"
Merlin glanced back at him. "Me? Uh, never." He smiled unconvincingly. Arthur looked confused.
Looking at the sky, Merlin muttered, "It will be dark soon." No one would see them as they leisurely strolled up to the castle ruled by the sorceresses. Mostly to himself, Merlin said, "Should we try the front, the side, or the tunnels?"
That was a question of battle strategy: Arthur's specialty. He grew up with that stuff, soaked it up the way Merlin grew up with the warning of "Don't talk about your magic." It was just something that Arthur knew like the back of his hand. So he immediately replied, "Not the front. That's too obvious… Unless the person we're up against is as stupid as… you—"
"Thanks for that."
"—They'll guard that well. Not the tunnels either… We nearly got in that way last time. No one will let that happen twice… Assuming the people we're up against know about our last visit?"
"Yeah, they would."
A spark of alarm flew across Arthur's features. "You don't mean that it's…"
"No! No. Not… not her." Okay, now he was flat out lying. Merlin shrugged mentally. Arthur would find out the truth eventually. Merlin would deal with Arthur's inevitable murderous fit later.
"Side, then," said Arthur wisely. "Though the chances of us getting in at all are… Very small. I mean, there are only two of us. I don't have armor on and you aren't armed… And this, Merlin, is why I am usually in charge of our trips."
Merlin ignored him. He was looking at the castle, nodding to himself. "All right," he said slowly. "When it gets dark, side door. Don't look so nervous, Arthur. We can do this."
Arthur laughed in disbelief. I can't believe I'm on this trip at all. Next time, we take at least Lancelot and Gwaine. No, next time, I lock Merlin up. Yeah, that's better.
Merlin sighed, staring at the castle as though he was trying to see through the walls. Xyla's in there. We'll get in. We'd better get in.
Xyla hit herself on the head. It didn't make it feel better, but she couldn't shake the feeling that if she hit her head hard enough, it would stop hurting. Her headache hadn't ceased since she sent the dream to Arthur – which might have failed anyway – and even the dreams which Morgana sent through her were weaker. This displeased Morgana, who gave her more food and water in hope it would improve things. It didn't. Which displeased Morgana more.
The witch just liked any excuse to play around with someone else's dreams, in Xyla's opinion. How very petty. How very below a woman of her upbringing.
When Morgana had walked towards the door, Xyla tried to trip her.
Morgana had just glared.
"Morgause, I've never met a less cooperative person," Morgana said aloud. "I wish we could do something about that."
Xyla had not been (very) worried. Morgana knew something was wrong with Xyla, causing the dreams to be weaker, and she wouldn't risk her plan by hurting the brown-haired girl.
"At least Merlin seems to be on his way," Morgause had replied at the time (when was this anyway? A day ago? Two?). "We won't have to put up with her for much longer."
Rubbing her eyes, Xyla shifted her position and groaned. By now, Merlin was probably almost to the castle… Maybe he was here already. She really hoped Morgana and Morgause didn't get him. If they did, things might get… ugly.
"He's here, Sister."
From her place on a big, comfortable chair Morgana looked up at Morgause, who was standing by the tiny window near the top of the castle.
"Merlin? Do you see him?"
"I caught a glimpse." Then she tapped the side of her head. "Paul also spotted him." Paul was the head of the guards and dabbled in magic, though he was not as good as the sorceresses. Morgana didn't like him—a voice in her head reminded her of Mordred and made her miss him.
Morgause tilted her head to the side and added, "How interesting… He's brought the prince with him."
"Arthur?" A wave of unreasonable fear went through Morgana as she stood up. She didn't want to face her half-brother right now. She still had the feeling that he should have died when she had him killed.
"It seems so. This is perfect, Sister!"
"How?" Morgana walked behind Morgause, trying to see out the window, but there was nothing but big, gray rocks.
"We can now get Merlin and find out just what he did in Camelot… and we have Arthur, heir to Camelot!" Morgause chuckled, and Morgana had to admit she had a point. You couldn't go wrong holding those kinds of cards.
"But we have to catch them first," Morgana reminded her excitable sister.
"That will be the easy part."
Merlin was undeniably nervous. He rubbed his sweating hands together as they approached the side of the castle under cover of darkness, trying to be silent.
Then Merlin tripped over a rock and went sprawling on the ground.
Arthur looked back (he'd taken the front now) and hissed, "Merlin! Quiet!" He couldn't see it, but the manservant shot him a glare.
Like I tripped on purpose!
Ignoring the rather severe pain in his side and knee (but knowing the bruises were probably already forming), Merlin stood up and tried not to grunt. Bigger problems. They had bigger problems.
There would probably be a guard or two at the side door, from what Arthur and Merlin had seen. They would sneak around the back of the castle, and Arthur would go ahead and get rid of the guards—ideally, he would knock them all out except one, get the key from that one, and then knock out the one. But things probably wouldn't work out like that, so they would just improvise. Merlin would just hang behind, useless without a weapon. But he was ready to use magic at the first sign of trouble.
They slowly crept across the rocks, not tripping over any more of them. Merlin could feel a million invisible eyes glued on him, and he didn't like it. But Merlin was rather used to doing things like this without being spotted, so he managed to brush off his nerves and keep going. He could do this.
Arthur looked up and around out of habit though he couldn't see a thing. Taking a deep breath and gripping his sword tightly, Arthur picked up the pace and began to jog forward; he was briefly glad he wasn't wearing clanking armor. He ended up against the brick wall of the castle quite suddenly, nearly smashing into the stones, squinting in the gloom created by the torches set into spaces on the walls. He could see, but barely, and forget about seeing in color.
Arthur licked his lips, feeling excitement bubble up inside him. Sneaking around wasn't something he got to do often, but it was actually rather… Well, not fun. Fun wasn't the word. But it was close. Next to him, he heard Merlin lean up against the wall.
"Alright, I'm going ahead," Arthur whispered so quietly that he could barely hear it, but Merlin seemed to understand because he nodded. "They'll be right around the corner… Watch my back."
Merlin nodded again as Arthur turned and began to inch around the corner. Backing away from the wall a bit, Merlin was able to keep an eye on him and still stay out of sight of one of the guards – there were three – turned around.
Arthur crouched down and held his sword out in front of him, ready to attack. The guards didn't see him, and Merlin found himself watching intently, praying no one noticed Arthur and put up a fight.
One of the guards twitched in their general direction, and Merlin tensed, his heartbeat going so fast that he thought he would drop dead of pure fear. The guard didn't see them, and Merlin let out the breath he was holding.
Come on, Arthur, just a little bit closer…
Suddenly Merlin felt the unmistakable touch of something cold and sharp against his neck, and his eyes shot wide. Understandably, he froze. A warm mass pressed up against him, soft— an obviously female person. Merlin felt arms slinking around his shoulders and chest, holding him back, and the knife against him slid slightly as she changed position. The feeling of it made Merlin's mouth go dry in alarm.
Wake up, chided his mind. You need to warn Arthur; they see you!
Right. Arthur.
Merlin opened his mouth, his breathing hitching, but the woman's grip on his got firmer, and he felt his body jerk back.
"Shut up," Morgause's voice hissed. "Don't call out."
Ignoring her, he opened his mouth again as he began to struggle, but then the rest of her threat made it through to him: "—or we'll kill Xyla."
Merlin stilled once more, the thought effectively keeping him from calling out… For all of one second. And then he looked up and saw Arthur almost at the guards, who Merlin suddenly realized probably weren't as clueless as they appeared. Merlin's instinct took over.
Merlin's first instinct, as of the past few years, ever since a certain reptilian who spoke in riddles got a hold of him, was to protect Arthur.
"Arthur!" he yelled out before her hand clapped itself over his mouth.
Arthur whipped around when he heard the fear in Merlin's strangled voice, looking for the enemy behind him. Then a guard leapt forward, abandoning his deceptively relaxed position, and a flash of silver shone in the night as the hilt of his sword came down on the prince's head. The blond man slumped forward, hitting the ground and nearly impaling himself on his own blade.
Merlin hissed, trying to pull away from Morgause, but she was stronger than she looked.
Forget this. Time for action.
He felt the surge of magic that he knew so well, at his fingertips and eager to be used. His eyes flashed gold and everything seemed to sparkle, ready to be bespelled—
Then Morgause moved away and in the same movement brought the hilt of her dagger down on the back of his head. Colors exploded before his eyes – and what colors were they? Red? Purple? Why couldn't he tell? Everything was spinning and twisting… Hey, was he falling? Then the ground seemed to get suddenly a lot closer, and then everything was flooded with black and Merlin was gone.