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Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin or Harry Potter
Chapter 12
Arthur lay on his bed, his body entirely spent. Even after an extended bath, private meal, and four hour nap he was still exhausted. He'd really overdone the training this morning. Geraint had left him to his own devices with the promise to return in the evening to lead him to a private dining hall where he would be having dinner with the other royals. Arthur looked over at the window and sighed. The sun was beginning to sink towards the horizon. He figured he had a few more minutes before Geraint showed up where he wouldn't have to move a muscle. No sooner had the thought crossed him mind that there was a knock on the door. Perhaps he was wrong about the timing after all.
Groaning, Arthur began to sit up but his muscles screamed in protest. Flopping uselessly back onto the bed, he decided that just this once he'd be lazy. "Come in," he invited.
The door slowly opened and Arthur was surprised that, instead of Geraint, a head of curly hair poked its way around the wood. Guinevere hesitantly stepped into the room, shutting the door behind her. She wore a lovely pink gown decorated with a cream colored bodice covered in pastel embroidery. She was positively stunning and the butterflies within Arthur's stomach took off as he watched her shuffle forward with a nervous smile.
"I just thought I'd come and see how you were fairing – not that I didn't think you wouldn't be alright – you're perfectly capable of handling yourself and knowing your limits – you just seemed tired when you left the training this morning – I thought it wouldn't hurt to be sure you didn't need anything."
Arthur chuckled as the woman blushed.
"You do like to ramble on, don't you?"
Guinevere's cheeks darkened further and she looked anywhere but at him as she replied, "It's a horrible habit, I suppose."
Arthur smiled before attempting to push himself into a sitting position again. He grimaced but kept the groans from escaping his throat as he successfully managed to sit up. Patting the side of the bed, he invited her to sit down. After a hesitant step, Guinevere accepted his offer, placing herself on the edge.
"Leon told us that you'd be recovering for the rest of the day," she muttered, avoiding his gaze.
Arthur sighed. "He knows me too well."
"You didn't have to strain yourself like that!" Guinevere suddenly chided. "I can understand needing to prove yourself to the men but was it necessary to take on every challenger? You could have been seriously injured!" Realizing she'd just chastened a king, the maiden immediately apologized. "Sorry, my lord," she murmured.
Though touched by her concern, Arthur frowned as he answered, "There's no need to call me that, Guinevere – Arthur is fine – and it was extremely necessary. In order to lead these men, they have to believe in me. I did what I had to in order to earn their respect and their allegiance."
Guinevere sighed. "I know… I'm sorry. I just don't like watching someone I care about placed in a dangerous situation... I also wanted you to know that I thought you were very brave – telling them the truth."
The butterflies in his stomach intensified. "You care about me?"
Guinevere's beautiful brown eyes widened. "Of course I do – we all do," she amended, looking away from him. "You're the Once and Future King. If anything happened to you…"
Arthur's heart shriveled a little. "Is that the only reason?" he asked, speaking his thought aloud before he could stop himself.
The maiden turned back to him, her lower lip captured between her teeth. "I suppose not… for me that is…" she muttered, her cheeks on fire.
Arthur hesitantly reached forward and covered her hand in his own. Her eyes widened as she gazed down at their hands before looking back at him. He observed her reaction with a soft countenance, a small smile lifting the corners of his mouth.
"I care about you too, Guinevere."
They had both unconsciously leaned closer, their eyes locked, their hearts stirring with something neither had ever experienced before. Arthur found himself continuously glancing at her full lips and a stirring below his abdomen sent a course of desire rocketing through his brain. Immediately aware of what he wanted, Arthur was attacked by a sudden sense of horror.
What on earth was he doing?! He was alone in a room – on a bed – with a woman that he desperately wanted to do more than just converse with!
Guinevere, attacked by the same sense of shock as him, quickly pulled her hand out from beneath his and leapt from the bed.
"I am so sorry, my lord," she stuttered, backing away several paces. "I don't know what came over me."
"No, no, it is I who should apologize," Arthur proclaimed, a part of him withering in disappointment for not fulfilling his desires. His hand burned from where Guinevere's had once been and he found himself longing to restore the connection. "I fear I might have instigated that."
Guinevere hesitantly smiled but an awkwardness had descended between them and neither seemed to know what to say. After a while Arthur couldn't take it anymore and decided that forwardness might be the only solution to the problem. Clasping his hands together, he observed Guinevere a moment, his heart pounding rather painfully against his ribcage.
"May I speak freely?" he asked, his nerves on edge.
"Of course," she nodded, her hands wringing together.
"I have never really been in a relationship with anyone before – with a woman, I mean," he clarified, before quickly adding in horror, "Not that I've had such a relationship with a man!"
Guinevere giggled and Arthur groaned, slamming his hands over his face. Really? Had he really just said that?!
"Sorry," she chuckled. "If it helps, I know what you meant."
Arthur groaned again, mortified.
"There's no need to be nervous," she encouraged.
"There's every need," he murmured, running his hands through his hair. "Alright, I'm rubbish at this sort of thing so I'll just come out and say it. I have feelings for you, Guinevere. Feelings I've never had for anyone, frankly. I have been with other women before but never in a long term 's usually been a one-night-stand. Anyway, if you'd be willing… that is…" –he bit his lip –"would you fancy the idea of attempting a… courtship… with me?"
Guinevere seemed stunned and for a moment Arthur was afraid he'd been a little too forward. Perhaps he shouldn't have been so presumptuous. Maybe she hadn't felt the same why he had? Maybe she just wanted a one-time fling like all the other women he'd been previously involved with? Not that that would have been horrible but for the first time in his life, if that was all she wanted, Arthur would have been disappointed.
"Alright."
Arthur's worries shut down as his brain seemed to freeze over.
"What?"
Guinevere bit her lip, her fingers wiggling around each other as her cheeks burned.
"I would like that," she hesitantly stated. "If that's what you want."
"Is that what you want?" he asked, his brain still in shock.
Guinevere gazed into his eyes and spoke with surprising resolve. "Yes, Arthur," she confirmed. "It is."
The joy that erupted within Arthur's heart could rival that of the sun as the widest smiled he'd ever given in his life blossomed across his face. A small, relieved laugh escaped him and Guinevere lightly chuckled too.
"Alright then," he exclaimed before trying to school his features; it was kind of hard because his stomach felt like it was doing joyful back flips. "I have training in the morning but would you like to have lunch with me tomorrow? I'd ask you to dinner tonight but I'm already committed to dining with the other kings and Queen Annis."
"Lunch would be great," Guinevere smiled, completely understanding his prior commitment.
There was a knock on the door before Geraint appeared. Surprise blossomed over his face when he realized Arthur wasn't alone.
"Should I come back later?" he asked.
Arthur stood – with great difficulty. "That won't be necessary, Geraint." Walking over to Guinevere, he took her hand and kissed it. "I'll see you tomorrow," he grinned.
Guinevere, her cheeks exuding a beautiful pinkish glow, smiled. "Have a good evening, Arthur."
"You as well."
She then curtsied to him and left. Arthur let out a dreamy sigh before wandering back over to the bed and falling onto the mattress.
Geraint chuckled. "Is it safe to assume that something good just happened?"
The blonde rolled over and narrowed his eyes at his servant. "Not a word to anyone, Geraint."
The servant grinned before walking over to the closet and selecting an outfit for the evening. "I trust you slept well?"
"Well enough," Arthur answered, stretching his aching muscles, "though I could use another ten hours, if I were honest."
"Then I'll be sure you are kept at dinner no longer than necessary," Geraint promised as he hung the selected items over the partition screen.
Arthur disappeared behind it and replaced his loose tunic with the soft white one that was to be worn underneath a brown overcoat outlined in golden thread. Frowning at the finery, Arthur threw the coat over his shoulders and stepped out from behind the partition towards the bed where Geraint had left his now-polished boots.
As he set to work pulling them on, the servant leaned against a pillar and said, "You were rather remarkable this morning, you know – on the training field."
Arthur glanced up at him, surprised to see Geraint staring with respect and admiration in his eyes.
"I only did what I felt was right."
"I know," Geraint muttered. "Word has circulated through the entire palace concerning what happened and what you said – particularly concerning Emrys."
Arthur stiffened. "And why would anyone be particularly interested in that?"
"There are a few who question whether it is wise for you to lead the army when your purpose for doing so is not to reclaim the kingdom of Camelot but to save one man."
Anger started to course through Arthur's veins. Of course this should have been something he considered; gossip, after all, was part of the lifestyle of nobility.
"Men are entitled to their opinions but I will not change my reasons, no matter how foolish they may seem," he stated. "I told the knights earlier and I'll tell you the same thing now: I intend to rescue Merlin – with or without an army."
"Is he really the only reason you have decided to become the King you are supposed to be?"
Arthur looked at him and said without hesitation, "At this moment in time, Geraint, yes, he is."
The servant's eyes widened in shock as he muttered with wonder, "But being a king is the highest honor in the world. There are men who would kill to have such a position. The power, the glory, the riches – especially those belonging to the Once and Future King – are what any man could ever dream of! You really don't want any of that?"
"None of it," Arthur stated, disgust filling his face at the very thought of these assets. "I have no interest in temporal things, Geraint, and any man who places his heart upon such treasures is foolish and vain. Brotherhood, integrity, and family are the only things that really matter in this life. Power, glory, and riches should only be used by a king to help the people he serves. If he uses them for himself then they never should have been entrusted to him in the first place. Now come; we're late for dinner."
Arthur left the room, waiting for a rather stunned Geraint to lead the way to the private dining hall where Queen Annis and the other kings were waiting. The two walked down several winding hallways before reaching a handsome chamber mostly filled by a long table that Arthur personally felt was unnecessary for a dining party of four; glory of kings, he silently supposed.
"Arthur," Rodor acknowledged, gesturing for him to take the seat next to Godwyn.
"My apologies for my tardiness," he said as he sat down.
"It was to be expected, dear boy," Godwyn smiled, "seeing as you apparently tried to take on a portion of the army today all by yourself."
Arthur took a sip of his wine before starting to cut up his meat. He shouldn't be surprised that word had spread throughout the castle to their ears.
"Sir Cadogan was particularly impressed with your stamina," Rodor added conversationally, "though I fear I must disagree with his enthusiasm concerning your methods."
"Methods?" Arthur questioned, glancing up at Rodor and deciding to play ignorant. If they wanted to fish around then they'd have to cast their nets a little deeper.
"Yes," Annis said, deciding it was her turn to probe, "Apparently there are some strange rumors going around concerning you; that you disapprove of our knights bearing the crest of the land which they have sworn to serve."
Arthur gave Annis his full attention. The woman stared him down like a hawk, daring him to contradict her. Arthur sensed she favored blunt honesty rather than refined suggestion in conversation; he liked her. Both Rodor and Godwyn had ceased taking interest in their plates, staring at him with the same intensity as Annis. There appeared to be a hint of betrayal in their eyes.
Arthur sighed. "Forgive me, my lords and lady, it was not my intention to offend anyone. Allow me to explain my actions."
"By all means, Arthur, we're eager to hear them," Rodor invited with slight bitterness.
"I first want to ensure that each of you understands that I am not a thief. I do not desire to sway one's loyalty from the crown they have already sworn to serve. While I am gracious to each of you for assembling an army to aid me in reclaiming my throne, through observance this morning I have discovered a fatal flaw."
"And what might that be?" Annis demanded.
"Unity," Arthur revealed. "Merlin once explained to me that balance is essential in order for success to blossom. A field of grain does not merely spring up all on its own. First the ground must be tilled then the seeds sown. Water and sunlight are needed in order for growth, but so is a hand to tend the weeds that will try to kill the crop. Everything has to work together to achieve the purpose of growth. The problem with your men is that they do not see the same goal. Each is merely here because you, their sovereigns, asked them to be. Their loyalties are to you, not to the cause which they were brought together. Taking away their crests is the first step towards lifting the blindness from their eyes.
"If they do not see division with their physical eyes, they will be able to focus on why they're really here. They will be able to see each other, their strengths, their weaknesses. They will draw together and form a bond of brotherhood. Only after the common goal is realized can diversity be acknowledged. I do not mean to take their loyalties away from you. It is honorable that they want to serve the kingdoms they have chosen. But that loyalty, at this moment, is a crutch. We will never win if it remains without first being overcome by a unified purpose."
"And what is the unified purpose in which you speak of, Arthur Pendragon?" Annis asked though she did so without malice.
Arthur looked down, his eyes focusing on the grains in the wooden table. "I have learned that I have a destiny to unite the lands under one rule – my rule." He looked up and made sure all three were staring directly at him before continuing, "I do not wish to conquer anyone's kingdom. I feel that to do so is foolishness, demanding every ruler throw their crowns at my feet because of some prophecy.
"If I am supposed to do as this prophecy suggests, the Albion I envision allows the current rulers to stay on their thrones and merely have me act as a figurehead. We would sit down and establish a code that would be followed by every sovereign -myself included- and then I, as the High King, would give direction and council when needed but never interfere unless a ruler's actions shied away from the code and endangered the lives of the people.
"The true purpose, Annis, that I wish to inspire in these men, is that we can all live together in peace, no matter what kingdom we come from. I will be frank in saying that my original purpose in attacking Camelot was not because I wanted to take back my throne but to rescue Merlin. But since I embarked on the journey to rescue him, I've had to face things and I feel I am beginning to understand that while Merlin is important in my life and I will do whatever is required to rescue him, I also have a duty to Camelot that I have been neglecting for longer than I should and I can neglect it no longer."
Arthur fell silent and waited. After a full minute, Godwyn broke the contemplative spell each of them was under.
"Do you want to be a king, Arthur?"
Arthur looked up at him, surprised. A soft chuckle escaped him. "If I were honest, no."
"But, offered the responsibility, would you run from it?" asked Rodor.
Arthur turned his gaze on the other king and surprised himself by immediately answering, "No."
If he'd been asked this question a year ago he definitely would have answered otherwise.
Annis studied him a moment more before smiling. "There is something about you, Arthur Pendragon," she muttered, "something which gives me hope for us all. I agree with your philosophy, and, if it helps, I also agree with your proposal to unite the lands. I see before me a man worthy of being in such a position of power and trust. I give you my allegiance."
She then raised her goblet and toasted him. Arthur was stunned.
"I must say that your reasoning behind your actions has left me surprised and delighted, Arthur," Rodor admitted before raising his own glass, "and I happily agree with Annis. I look forward to counseling with you in the future."
Godwyn also raised his goblet. "Your father would be proud of the man you have become, Arthur. I, too, have been inspired by your vision and plan to help it become a reality."
Arthur sat, staring with wide eyes of disbelief. He'd only spoken his thoughts. He hadn't been trying to win them over. Feeling slightly guilty, he stated this to the others.
Annis chuckled. "Arthur, I have never seen such integrity in any court. There is no need to fear that you have swindled us into anything. We have ruled kingdoms for many years. We would not enter into such an agreement if we did not feel it would be beneficial."
"She's right," Rodor smiled. "We never make decisions without considering the welfare of our people. We all feel that you are worthy to hold the title of High King."
"It is no wonder Destiny chose you, my boy," Godwyn stated. "No other man would be so entrusted with my people's welfare besides my own posterity."
Arthur felt a rush of gratitude. "I don't know what to say," he admitted.
"Just accept the praise and let us return to our dinner," suggested Annis, picking up her fork and stabbing her meat as an example.
Arthur chuckled before doing just that.
The rest of the evening was spent informing Arthur that the men he'd met this morning were only a small portion of the army they had prepared for him. Each of them confessed that they couldn't provide him with their entire military due to the need of keeping their kingdoms safe but they had each contributed a thousand men. That was three thousand all together and Arthur started to realize that training every single one of them – including the sorcerers – was going to be impossible. He needed captains, men that he could trust to follow his instructions and teach others to become exactly what he envisioned his army to be. He shared these thoughts with Annis, Godwyn, and Rodor and each immediately started suggesting men they found trustworthy.
"While I am grateful for your suggestions, would it be alright if I took the next few days to observe the various trainings and perhaps find men of my own?" he asked.
"Of course," Rodor answered without hesitation, Annis and Godwyn nodding in agreement.
"May I be so bold as to ask if the men who arrived with you are some you are considering for leadership?" Godwyn inquired.
Arthur nodded. "Though I feel the need to test their skills, their character has already been proven to me. If I find they are excellent with military tactics then, yes, I will grant them a portion of the army to train."
Annis scowled. "Three of your company I would caution giving leadership positions to, Arthur."
Arthur smiled. "Mercenaries are capable of making mistakes, Your Highness, like every other man. I would not be so quick to judge one based off one poor experience. But I will keep your suggestion in mind while evaluating them."
"Spoken like a true sovereign," she commented, allowing him a small smile.
The evening finally concluded and Arthur eventually excused himself from the others so as to gain enough rest for tomorrow's vigorous training. Geraint walked beside him in silence back to his room, occasionally glancing at him the whole way. By the time they reached Arthur's chambers, the king had had enough.
"Alright, Geraint, what's on your mind?" he demanded, spinning around to face the young man the moment they were alone.
Realizing he'd been caught, the servant shuffled his feet. "Forgive me, Arthur. You are unlike any man I have ever met before. I am merely impressed. You are not what I pictured you to be."
Arthur smirked. "Forgive me for not being some pompous lord demanding you serve my every whim."
Walking over to the bed, he sunk down on the mattress and started taking off his boots and socks. It felt wonderful releasing his toes. Arthur sighed happily as he stretched for a moment before standing up and removing his overcoat and shirt. Geraint took both items away while he settled under his warm comforter.
"I'll be sure to wake you before dawn for the training," Geraint promised him, having headed to the door after laying out clothes for Arthur to wear the next day.
Arthur turned on his side. "Thank you, Geraint."
The door clicked closed and Arthur sighed. He couldn't believe how this day had gone. He desperately wanted to talk to Merlin, to ask him what he thought about all of his decisions, but such conversation would have to wait. Sadness enveloped him as he thought of his warlock's unknown predicament.
"I'm sorry, Merlin," he whispered aloud. "It looks like it's going to take longer than I'd planned to find you. I have three thousand men I have to train; that's more than even ten times the amount I worked with back in Alnwick! It's a rather daunting task but I promise you that I will help them become an unbeatable army. When I come for you, I will not fail, my brother. Until then, hold on. Please, hold on."
[][][]
After a week's worth of observation, Arthur had found his captains; it had taken several training sessions (meeting with various men, fighting them, observing them, engaging in light conversation) but he finally knew who he could trust.
Standing in a small chamber Geraint had led him to earlier, Arthur looked on the scene with silent approval. He'd ordered the table in the room to be removed, leaving nothing but a cluster of seventeen chairs in a circle. In just a few moments the room would be occupied by those he considered most trustworthy.
There was a knock on the door before it opened, revealing Geraint who was immediately followed by Kings Rodor and Godwyn, Queen Annis, Sir Cadogan, Guinevere and Elyan, Leon, Lancelot, Percival and Gwaine, Harry, Ron and Hermione, Freya, and last but not least, Morgana. All were rather surprised by the room's current set up. Arthur smiled happily, his eyes lingering a fraction of a second longer on Guinevere than anyone else.
"My friends, please, join me," he invited.
Everyone shuffled forward and took a seat, eying each other with slight befuddlement. Geraint had moved to a position near the wall but Arthur immediately shook his head, indicating for the servant to sit down next to Leon.
"But – I'm just a servant," Geraint protested.
"I don't care about that in the slightest," Arthur said, smirking at the man, "But, Geraint, do you honestly believe me to be a fool?"
"No, Sire."
"Then we both know that you are anything but a servant."
It had taken a week but after observing the usual comings and goings of servants and nobles, the king had easily distinguished that his 'servant' wasn't who he professed to be.
Geraint desperately looked at Rodor, the older king frowning before letting out a heavy sigh. "It would seem the young Pendragon has discovered our deception. Do as he says, Sir Geraint."
There was a mild gasp from the others but Arthur merely displayed a look of triumph as Geraint sat down. He stared at Arthur in disbelief. "How did you find out?"
Arthur sat in the last vacant chair – between Guinevere and Freya – before answering. "I may have not grown up being waited upon by servants but after being here for a week I could see there was a distinct difference between your behavior and that of the rest of them. It was a combination of several behaviors that betrayed you – though you did play your part rather well."
"A knight pretending to be a servant?" Gwaine grinned. "Must have been difficult."
Geraint blushed, averting his eyes as he quietly admitted, "I have a newfound appreciation for what they do, yes."
There was a soft round of chuckling before Rodor apologized for his subterfuge. "Forgive me, Arthur. I fear I did not trust you at first. I instructed Geraint to survey your actions and report his findings. After his last report – given this morning – I planned to tell you his true identity this evening."
"I'm afraid I spoiled your plans," Arthur smiled, not at all upset over the trickery. "I don't blame you for what you did, Rodor. I probably would have done the same in your shoes. I assume that I passed whatever qualifications you were looking for?"
"Above and beyond," he stated with a grateful smile.
"Excellent; it is important for me know those whom I entrust with portions of the army have all faith in me."
"Excuse me, what?" Elyan blurted.
Arthur grinned at their shocked faces. "My fellow sovereigns have granted me three thousand men and I am not fool enough to believe I can train them all myself. I decided that I would need to divide the army into twelve portions of around two hundred fifty each and delegate a captain to be in charge of each division. Most you see sitting in this circle are whom I have chosen."
"You want us to lead an army?" Hermione asked in shock.
"Not everyone, Hermione," Arthur clarified. "You, Guinevere, Freya, and Morgana will not exactly be partaking in that particular duty."
"Then why are we even here?" Morgana asked, somewhat upset that she was being excluded from such an important assignment.
"Those in this circle are those I trust explicitly," Arthur reiterated. "You and Hermione are going to help Harry and Ron with their portions of the army – seeing as those they will train are the sorcerers in our group. If my calculations are correct, we have about four hundred and seventy three sorcerers. That is a lot of magic being thrust around and I feel Harry and Ron will need sub-captains to help keep everything in order. Guinevere and Freya I am entrusting with the medical preparations, making sure all who fit in that category have all the supplies they need for the casualties that will occur – for there will be casualties."
Morgana's glare had turned into an accepting frown as this information was made known.
"You want me and Harry to lead the sorcerers?" Ron asked in disbelief.
Arthur nodded. "I've watched you and Harry the last few days, Ron, as you trained with them. Your magical power and skill in using it is incredible. I would be a fool not to ask you to lead those with magic."
"He's right," Morgana admitted. "You both possess enough magical skill to be High Priests of the Old Religion – Hermione, too, could be a High Priestess if she wanted to be."
"Really?" Hermione asked, her eyes shining with admiration and slight embarrassment from the praise.
Morgana smirked. "I think you'd even beat Nimueh and that's saying something. Besides me, she's the most powerful High Priestess on the Isle."
"And from what you told me she, along with the others that dwell there, have decided to side with Bane," Arthur interrupted before Hermione could inquire further about Nimueh's specific abilities.
Morgana nodded. "That is one of the reasons Finna and I betrayed them; we don't agree with the world Bane is trying to build."
"What other reasons have you for betraying your own kind?" Sir Cadogan asked curiously.
For the briefest of moments Morgana's eyes flicked in Gwaine's direction before looking elsewhere. "None that I feel the need to share, sir knight," she vaguely answered.
Arthur raised a curious brow and looked between Gwaine and Morgana. The rogue was staring at her with a knowing smirk while the witch looked strained but pleased. Was something going on between those two?
Leon cleared his throat. "So, we are each to lead roughly two hundred men, sire?"
Arthur blinked before refocusing on the present discussion. "Er – right, that is correct, Leon."
The meeting then continued with Arthur explaining exactly what he expected each of them to do in the coming weeks. The three sovereigns were surprised to be included in the ranks of his captains but each happily accepted the task. After discussing the various areas and times of day the captains would train their men, Arthur concluded the meeting by promising that more would follow in the future.
"I will be visiting each division throughout the day to observe and give further instruction as I see fit," he added. "We will start the training schedules tomorrow; Leon, Elyan, and Geraint's groups being the first at dawn on the three respective fields we've decided to use."
"We'll see it done, Arthur," Leon promised.
Nodding to him, Arthur dismissed the war council. Rodor promised to have a new servant picked out for him now that Geraint had been found out. The knight agreed to make introductions by accompanying whoever it would be when they brought his dinner to him later that night. Most of the others promptly left after that but the trio from the future were lingering near the exit along with Guinevere. Hermione, noticing this, grabbed Harry and Ron by the arm and dragged them from the room. Arthur sent her a grateful smile. The second the door shut Arthur closed the distance between him and his fair maiden. She took his hands and smiled warmly up at him, her soft brown eyes sparkling with affection.
"I'm so proud of you, Arthur," she muttered. "You've grown so much in the short time we've been here."
Arthur grinned. "Your encouragement keeps me going, Guinevere."
In the week they had been openly courting, any free time Arthur had he'd spent with Guinevere. They mostly went on leisure walks around the castle, finding quiet places away from prying eyes where they could converse without the fear of being overheard. Arthur had poured out his heart to Guinevere many times and she had done the same to him. She now knew more about his relationship with Merlin than anyone else and supported his personal desires to rescue the warlock more than any other – besides Freya, of course (being Merlin's wife, she was more than supportive of Arthur focusing so much of the training efforts with the rescue in mind).
"I just hope we can prepare everyone in two weeks," he muttered, allowing his concerns to finally show on his face.
Guinevere squeezed his hands. "Merlin is strong. From the brief time I came to know him and everything you've told me, I know he'll hold out until we arrive."
"How is it that you can read me so well?" Arthur wondered.
Guinevere smiled. "It's a gift. Seriously though, Arthur, have more faith not only in Merlin but yourself. In the week we've been here I've seen how the men on that training field have changed. They now look to you as a leader and will follow you no matter where you send them."
"Though that may mostly be the case there are still some who do not support me," Arthur countered.
He was no fool. The whispers and begrudging attitudes he'd encountered in some soldiers, nobles, and even servants may have been subtle but they hadn't escaped his notice.
"Do not allow the doubts of a few to cloud the faith you know many have in you," Guinevere counseled. "You are your own man, Arthur. You have a good heart and everything you have done so far has been for the benefit of the kingdom you wish to build. Be true to your vision, not the misgivings of lesser men. The majority will follow and support such a king."
Reassured, Arthur leaned forward and kissed her brow. "You honor me with your faith, Guinevere. Would you care to join me for dinner?"
The maiden sent him a kind smile and nodded. "Of course."
Arthur happily guided her out of the room, renewed in his belief that what he was doing was right.
[][][]
They came three days before the army was to march on Camelot.
Arthur shouldn't have been surprised but he was left with his jaw dangling in awe just as much as everyone else; it wasn't common to see dragons out of Dragon Country, after all, and in a pack of six no less! Though it had been years since he'd seen them, Arthur recognized every dragon swooping around the castle of Nemeth before they disappeared within the trees surrounding the vast kingdom: Kilgharrah, Nieryn, Ilveri, Auran, Jareyth, and Olivium. Six dragons didn't just dive from the sky like this. Arthur's eyes narrowed.
Calling the men on the training field back to attention he muttered to Leon to continue without him before heading back to the castle with Garrett, his new servant, faithfully trailing behind him. Reaching the armory, Arthur urged Garrett to remove his armor as quickly as possible. Once that was done, he replaced the sword in the stone at his side and told his servant to stay in the castle until he returned.
It was a rather odd sight, seeing a king running at full speed down the corridors, across the stone bridge, and out the open gates leading towards the northern forest. Standard protocol would have been to take a horse but Arthur was still learning how to ride and he didn't want to chance getting lost when he could just use his feet to get where he wanted to go. Besides, he was used to running. He didn't blink as he crossed from stone to natural earth, weaving in between the trees until he drew near to where he suspected the dragons were waiting. It didn't take long to find them; like in the past, whenever he approached their hiding places, every other forest sound disappeared into the void. Arthur stopped, leaning against a large tree to catch his breath.
Now that he was here, he was slightly wary. He hadn't seen these dragons in at least five years. Each had been kind enough in the past but he wasn't sure if they would try to burn him to a crisp for what he'd done to Merlin. Mind, they weren't here alone; dragons only traveled together like this when they were accompanied by their dragonlords. Arthur wasn't at all thrilled reuniting with them either but he believed the dragonlords would calm the dragons enough for him to at least attempt a conversation - because he had to know why they were here - he had to see if his assumption was correct – even if he couldn't fathom why it would be with what had happened between him and Merlin.
Pushing aside his insecurities, Arthur took a deep breath and continued forward to a clearing that he could only assume had been enlarged with magic since it was big enough to comfortably accommodate the large fire-breathing lizards lounging in the grass near their dragonlords. Nieryn was the first to notice his approach. She quietly nudged her mate and the Great Dragon's golden eyes locked on his. Arthur swallowed. Like Merlin, he didn't really like Kilgharrah; the dragon's cryptic riddles had never set well with him.
"I told you he'd come," Nieryn said, alerting the rest to Arthur's presence.
Kilgharrah's golden eyes swirling with anger as fire escaped his nostrils. "The traitor returns."
Arthur winced.
"Peace, Kilgharrah," Balinor commanded, leaving the other dragonlords to meet Arthur halfway across the field.
Kilgharrah wasn't the only dragon staring at Arthur in contempt; besides Nieryn and Olivium, the beasts looked as if the only thing keeping them from roasting him alive was Balinor's silent glare. Arthur swallowed, keeping his head held high despite the guilt that was written plainly on his face. He hadn't seen Balinor or Hunith since he'd banished Merlin from his life. The great dragonlord chieftain had gained several silver hairs amidst his black locks and beard. His dark eyes, while displaying their usual kind depths, also held a hint of sadness foreign to Arthur's memory. A few wrinkles now lingered around his eyes and mouth along with several creases in his forehead.
He stopped a foot away from Arthur, scrutinizing him in silence. The young king stood still, his guilt growing with each passing second. Balinor had been like a second father to him. He knew Arthur almost as well as he knew his own son – which was why Arthur couldn't find the motivation to put up the mask he'd perfected since the tragic day when he'd rejected Merlin. Instead, he let his eyes fill with tears and his shoulders slump. His heart's desire was forgiveness, for Balinor to recognize that the pain he'd probably brought into his son's life was equal to his own.
"I am so sorry," he wept, completely falling apart before the chieftain. He closed his eyes, ashamed.
"Arthur," – the king looked up and Balinor smiled– "you've grown."
And then Arthur was wrapped in his warm embrace, Balinor refusing to let go as the king's body slipped from shock to uncontrolled sobs. Latching onto the dragonlord, Arthur released a dam of regret he'd been holding onto for five miserably long years. Guinevere had been exposed to some of his tears but those moments were nothing compared to this. Arthur hadn't cried like this since the day Sir Ector died. Balinor comforted him until the sobs died down, Arthur's eyes now swollen and his nose rather red.
"I'm sorry," he mumbled again, accepting the handkerchief Balinor magically produced before blowing his nose.
"I know," Balinor muttered, patting his shoulder. "You have suffered just as much as he has these long years. I didn't believe Kilgharrah when he told me who you were but now I can see it. You truly are the other side of the coin."
Arthur shook his head. "I'm not worthy of it. I knew the truth but I never told him."
"You knew? Why didn't you say anything?" Balinor wondered, not mad but simply curious.
Arthur sighed. "After Merlin learned he was Emrys, he told me all about the bond he was supposed to have with the Once and Future King. From the time I was twelve all the way up to the day Sir Ector revealed who I really was, I wished I was royalty so I could be that King. But when I learned the truth that I was royal, I didn't want the responsibility. It terrified me. And then, realizing who I was, I knew I was also the one Merlin had been looking for because I remembered the day we met. Something happened. I can't fully explain it but it was like a powerful force pulled me towards Merlin and I felt the need to be near him. When Merlin described the bond years later, I recognized that was what it was."
"But you didn't want to accept the responsibilities that accompanied the truth," Balinor surmised.
Arthur shook his head. "No, I didn't."
"None of us can choose our Destiny, young Pendragon," Kilgharrah began.
"And none of us can escape it," Nieryn finished with a roll of her eyes. "You've been dying to tell him that for years."
Kilgharrah looked extremely upset that his wife just stole his thunder. "I have and you just ruined it!"
Nieryn winked at Arthur. "I'm sure you'll get over it, dear." –Kilgharrah glared at her but she ignored him completely–"He is right though, Arthur; you can't escape who you are meant to be."
"I know that now," Arthur agreed, "I just refused to acknowledge it after what happened five years ago. I regret everything I said and did and now I'm trying to atone for my mistakes. I take it you're here because you know what happened to Merlin?"
Balinor nodded. "Freya sent me a message. You may have a decent amount of sorcerers fighting on your side but you're going up against a kingdom of sorcerers, Arthur. The odds are not in your favor. After counseling together, we have decided that the dragons should be part of this war. While there are not many of us, we offer our services to you and the kingdom you and Merlin will one day build. I forgive you for your past transgressions. Now, let's rescue my son."
Arthur's eyes were bright as he nodded to the dragonlord chieftain. "Though I feel I still have much to atone for, thank you, Balinor."
"You have our forgiveness as well, Arthur Pendragon," Nieryn stated, smiling down on him with her large purple eyes. She noticed the sword he carried and her grin widened. "I see you found what Merlin left for you."
Arthur glanced down at the sword he'd pulled from the stone and nodded. "Though he was already kidnapped at that point, I felt his magic when I released it from the stone."
"The sun is beginning to shed a new dawn," said Kilgharrah cryptically. "The shadows will flee and the moon will once more feel the sun's rays. There is much to be done, young Pendragon, but Destiny seems to be on your side."
"I have no idea what you even just said," Arthur confessed, slightly annoyed with the dragon's love of riddles. "Regardless, Balinor, you and the others are welcome to the castle. I'm afraid the dragons are going to have to stay here in the forest."
"Afraid we'll eat the men?" asked Auran, his red scales partially glinting in the sunlight as he grinned.
Arthur rolled his eyes. "I know you don't eat humans, Auran. It's more of your body mass that won't fit in the castle."
"Not currently but we could change that," Nieryn replied mischievously.
Arthur stared. "Can you change your size too? I thought Merlin was the only one who could do that."
Nieryn pouted. "So he was lying when he said he hadn't figured out the shrinking spell? That no good warlock; he's always pulling my wing."
Kilgharrah chuckled. "I confess I taught him how to do it years ago."
"Kilgharrah!" Nieryn groaned. "Why am I not surprised you were in on his little charade."
Balinor cleared his throat. "If all of you are comfortable changing your size then you must promise to remain small until out in the open forest."
"Though I'm not at all thrilled about being the size of a dog, I would rather remain with Aiden," Ilveri stated, her yellow eyes standing out against her green scales.
"I'd like that too, Ilveri," Aiden, her dragonlord, agreed.
Jareyth, a light blue dragon with silver eyes, wasn't at all happy about shrinking but when he noticed the others were prepared for the change, he didn't want to be left behind. Olivium, sporting a body of purple scales and emerald green irises, was true to Arthur's memory in being the most excited dragon about the change; she'd always been energetic.
Kilgharrah performed the spell, his golden eyes lighting up even more as his pure magic wrapped around his wife and offspring, the dragons shrinking down to being not the size of dogs but cats. Kilgharrah chuckled at how small they were before joining them himself, his vast body being replaced by a smaller but no less intimidating form of his true image. The dragons each flew to their respective dragonlords – all except Nieryn, who decided to settle around Arthur's shoulders instead of joining her mate with Balinor.
"I hope you don't mind," she said.
"Not at all," Arthur said in surprise though he was happy. "I've miss you, Nieryn," he quietly confessed, rubbing her head with two of his fingers.
"As I have missed you, little one," she replied with a smile. "Shall we?"
Arthur nodded before turning on his heel, leading his unexpected allies towards the capital city where he'd have a lot of explaining to do to the other royals and the rest of his captains. He just prayed that King Rodor would be alright with dragons haunting his halls.
[][][]
Merlin had long since adjusted to his prison. His draconic lungs dispelled a large amount of air, stirring the dust that never seemed to leave his alcove. Every day he performed the same routine. He'd wake, fly down to the vast river, bathe himself as best he could, and fly back up to his alcove to partake of the remains of Bane's feasts. The king's soldiers would drop off the carcasses at the cliff's edge every three or four days. There was never much left on the bones but it was food and Merlin wasn't about to refuse it. He was half-starved as it was. Never in his life had he felt so frail.
He knew it wasn't just the poor nutrition he was receiving. Bane's infernal cuff around his leg had to hold some of the strongest magical binding curses Merlin had ever encountered. Not even his draconic teeth could rip the thing off. After cutting up his leg and giving himself an infection, Merlin quickly gave up the idea of trying to remove it with his mouth or claws. Besides, he had a suspicion that even if he chewed his own leg off the cuff would find a way to migrate to one of his remaining limbs. Still, being severed from his magic had drained him just as much as Bane's decision to give him enough food to barely keep him alive.
Merlin had gone to marking the wall of his cave with his claw so he knew he'd been down here for at least three weeks if not more. The only way he could tell the passing of time each day was the dim lighting of the cave changing from the small slivers of sunlight hundreds of feet above him. How Merlin missed the sun! He missed the earth, the dirt, the grass, the wind. He missed his friends, his parents, his wife. He missed Arthur. If he ever got out of here, he was going to talk to him no matter what.
Being stuck here had given Merlin a lot of free time and he'd come up with all sorts of scenarios involving him apologizing to Arthur and explaining his actions all those years ago. He really would have saved Sir Ector but his magic had acted on its own, reaching out to protect Arthur and Arthur alone. Merlin supposed it had just naturally responded to his terror of losing his best friend. He silently confessed, as he watched the rock fall, Arthur's safety had been the only thing on his mind.
Merlin sighed. Even after five years he was still beating himself up over Sir Ector's death.
The sound of footsteps suddenly reached Merlin's keen sense of hearing and he lifted his head in surprise. The guards had been down here yesterday so he knew it couldn't be them. Peering over the alcove to look into the gloom, his eyes slightly stung as a sudden burst of fire illuminated the small entrance to the stairwell.
"Emrys!" Bane bellowed, his eyes searching the inner parts of the cavern as he held his torch aloft. "Emrys, do not deny me! I know you're there."
Merlin wanted to shrink away but knew Bane wouldn't leave until he'd made himself known. Spreading his wings, he leapt from his perch and gently flapped his wings until he landed on the large rock separating him from where Bane stood, the chain attached to his ankle irritating him as it jangled back and forth.
"What do you want?" Merlin asked, unable to hide the bitterness from his tone.
"Is that anyway to greet an old friend?" Bane asked mockingly, observing him. "You seem to be holding up rather well. Tell me, have you tried to change back into a human at all?"
"No," Merlin replied flatly. "I didn't want to risk it – nor have I tried to change my size for the same reason."
"Shame," Bane sighed, disappointed. At Merlin's questioning look, he decided to explain, "The cuff is meant to change with whatever size –or shape– you decide to become – except it also has a side effect that jolts the body with something similar to the Cruciatus Curse."
"The what?" Merlin asked, confused. He'd never heard of such an enchantment.
"It's a delightful spell that leaves the victim believing they're being tortured in the worst possible ways imaginable," Bane said with a wicked glint in his eye. "Don't worry; I only set the spell to last for a few minutes if you ever tried to phase."
"You're a monster," Merlin cried, horrified by the sick pleasure Bane was portraying at the thought of torturing another.
"Call me what you want, Emrys, it makes no difference to me. Now, I wanted you to know that a certain Arthur of Alnwick is on his way here. Do you know him?"
Merlin's heart stopped. "Arthur? He's coming here?"
"Don't look so excited," Bane mocked. "My patrols have informed me that an army is swiftly approaching my borders from the south with Arthur leading the procession. Rumor has it he's on his way to rescue you. Too bad you'll be in no condition to help him when that moment comes."
"What do you mean?" Merlin asked, the hope in his heart instantly twisting to fear.
Bane sent him another wicked grin. "That cuff has suppressed your magic. Even if you tried to interfere, you would be powerless against enemy spells."
"That's not true," Merlin countered. "Just because I can't use my magic doesn't mean I lack defense and offense. I am currently a dragon after all."
"Indeed you are," Bane observed with a wicked grin, "which makes you powerful and almost unstoppable."
Merlin's breathing became shallow as warning bells sounded in his head. "What are you planning, Bane?"
The king sent him an evil smirk. "Never you mind. One thing you can be certain of; Arthur will fail in his quest. I can't wait to see the light fade from your eyes as you watch everything you care about die in the next few days."
Laughing, Bane left Merlin alone in the dark, the dragon terrified and wishing with all his heart that he could warn Arthur to leave him to his fate. If he came here, Bane would surely kill him! Merlin didn't know how the dollophead had managed to scrape up an army but their efforts wouldn't make a dent in Bane's magical defenses. Even if his magic was chained, Merlin could still feel the presence of magic in the air around him and Camelot was full of it. The kingdom was known for its entire army being nothing but sorcerers. And Arthur wanted to contend against that?
He wasn't worth it!
But he knew Arthur would come anyway. Whether he would because he'd forgiven him or just acting out of duty or because he was being paid, Arthur would always help those who couldn't help themselves. That's just who he was. Merlin didn't know the reason for him coming but, regardless, his stomach was twisting into knots. Filled with fear, he left the rock and flew up to his alcove. There was nothing he could do, being chained as he was. Frustrated and feeling hopeless, he curled into a ball and hid himself under his wing. Part of him prayed Arthur would come. The other wished him to stay as far away from Camelot as possible. If he did come, he would certainly get into trouble and this time there would be no way for Merlin to help him – and that scared the warlock more than anything else.
"Please, Arthur," he whispered in the dark, "take care."