••••••••••ARTHUR••••••••••
Arthur tore down the hallways, needing to see it for himself even though he already knew that it must be true. Yet he simply refused to believe it.
He had still been pulling on his breeches as he stumbled from Merlin's rooms, and the laces of his tunic remained untied, but he didn't care - the furthest thought from Arthur's mind right now was how this must look to anyone who saw him.
He didn't slow down for anyone, and he didn't look back - he didn't need to, to know that Merlin was right behind him.
Bursting into Gwen and Ygranna's chambers, Arthur stopped dead as he surveyed the scene.
The room was empty.
No sign of a disturbance. Not a hair seemed out of place. But there was no Gwen, and no Ygranna.
He heard Merlin's broken exhale from behind him, and Leah's quiet sobs, and he knew.
His daughter was gone.
Arthur allowed himself one moment. He was the King, he was Ygranna's father, but he let himself have one moment of wild, mind-numbing panic, eyes falling on his child's empty bed and feeling an ache inside him like he never thought possible.
Then he closed his eyes, forced his chest to fill up with air, and blew it out slowly through his mouth.
When he turned to face Merlin and Leah, it was not as Arthur, but as the King of Camelot.
"Where are the guards?" He asked calmly, strategically. Wherever they had gone, Arthur must follow.
Leah seemed to be trying to pull herself together in a similar way, but was not as successful; her voice shook when she replied, "I sent them off to alert the knights, Sire."
Arthur nodded. "Good. We must dispatch search parties immediately, everywhere. Merlin," he added, finally turning to face the other man and steeling himself for whatever he might see on Merlin's face.
He still wasn't quite prepared for the raw pain he saw on Merlin's face, which displayed every one of Merlin's emotions plain as day: fear, grief, worry, and guilt. But Arthur would have to deal with all of that later.
"Merlin," Arthur tried again, his voice softening. Merlin's eyes were wide, unfocused, but they met his own. "I need you to reach out with your magic."
Merlin began to shake his head, looking so broken it almost broke Arthur in turn. "I can't. If she's with Morgana, Arthur, you know I can't..."
"But the charm, Merlin," Arthur said, putting a hand on Merlin's shoulder and feeling it shake beneath him. "You told me before, you can find the charm. Remember?"
Merlin's eyes drifted down to Arthur's hand for a second, then something seemed to shift in his gaze. When he looked back up, it was with a new focus. And this, more than anything else, gave Arthur a glimmer of hope.
••••••••••GUINEVERE••••••••••
She hadn't been planning to do it.
Even as she had awoken in the night, dazedly walked over to her daughter's bed and gently picked up the sleeping child, she had not been planning to do it.
Nor when she had exited the chamber and found herself confronted with guards, only to command them in her most authoritative tone that she needed Gaius' assistance immediately, and had reminded the reluctant men that she could have them whipped for their insolence.
It was not until she was back at the kitchens, like the previous night, and one again saw the ghostly echoes of her younger self with her brother and best friend racing along the corridor, laughing and happy, that she realised what she was doing. That she would never have told the guards those things, or taken Ygranna out of the safety of their chambers. This wasn't her. And yet, this realisation must mean that it was her, mustn't it?
And in that moment, she knew she could turn around.
Even if this was Morgana's enchantment, even if this was part of her plan, this was Guinevere's loophole.
Morgana was calling to her in her mind. There was a clarity there, so crystal clear that Gwen knew it must be an enchantment, that all she needed was to go outside the castle walls like last time and everything would be alright. But it was different from before, because Gwen was recognising it for what it was, and she knew that Morgana was holding back. For some reason, she was allowing Guinevere to think, to pause, to question what was happening.
And as Gwen stood there in front of the kitchens, she did pause. She knew she shouldn't take Ygranna outside the castle. She knew it was dangerous, and wrong, and against all of her instincts as a mother and as the Queen of Camelot.
But then she looked down at the sleeping child in her arms, and her memories shifted, transforming before her eyes and transporting her back to a long time ago, to a moment in which she had been happier than she would ever be again.
She saw herself in the tiny house where she used to live, being sung to sleep by her father. She saw her own face, so full of love and trust and devotion. Those visions were strange, seeming a little too real in front of her eyes, but the memories that accompanied them were her own. Gwen remembered the fierce love she had felt for her father, and she remembered the mother that had left her - and how she had felt nothing for that mother. No hate, nor resentment for leaving her behind. All she had ever needed was her father.
Would Ygranna be the same, if Gwen left her behind? Would she even remember that she had ever had a mother, with Arthur and Merlin ready to raise her and love her and make her laugh in that wonderful way?
Guinevere could not allow her daughter to grow up like she did, believing that she didn't need a mother.
Don't let them take her away from you, a voice spoke in her mind, and she wasn't sure if it was Morgana or her own subconscious speaking to her.
Unnerved, afraid, Gwen shook her head. No, she thought, head head spinning, they wouldn't.
Wouldn't they?
Guinevere gasped as another vision filled her mind: of an older Ygranna, blue eyes shining and a brilliant smile lighting up her face, holding the hands of both of her fathers as a crown was placed on her blonde locks. Gwen was nowhere to be seen.
The vision left her and Guinevere was left alone in the dark hallway, holding her child in her arms. Her harsh breathing was the only sound which penetrated the silence.
She hesitated. She should turn and run, back to the guards, back to the safety of her chambers. She should call for Arthur, for Merlin, for anyone to help.
Instead, Guinevere took a small, uncertain step forward.
Then her eyes widened as she realised what she had just done, what she had just considered doing, and she made to turn - but it had been enough. Morgana's spell swept over her again, clouding her senses, and she lost control of her mind completely.
••••••••••MERLIN••••••••••
He could feel her. He could feel Ygranna's energy, pulsating golden and bright and content, and he wanted to laugh and scream and cry all at once.
He did none of those things, only opened his eyes and searched out Arthur's face among the small crowd of knights that had gathered around him. Merlin nodded, once, and then Arthur took charge, ordering the horses to be saddled and commanding his men into action.
Merlin knew where Ygranna was, but he could not teleport there. Morgana was blocking him, but it didn't matter. Arthur could get him there.
His faith in the other man was staggering, and even more staggering was the fact that Merlin knew Arthur's faith in him was just as strong. Arthur was trusting him with his - no, with their child.
It was all that kept him from falling apart.
••••••••••GUINEVERE••••••••••
"Mummy, where are we going?"
Ygranna had woken up and was rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, blinking owlishly, eyes reflecting the light of the torches.
No guards stopped Gwen this time and she suspected that Morgana had had a hand in that, too.
"To see a friend, my darling," she said, and as the words left her mouth she was shaken by how true those words felt, even when she knew them to be lies.
She knew what she was doing, where she was going. But there was no resistance left in her mind. It was your choice, that calm, wonderful, soothing voice spoke in her head. Yes, she thought, vaguely, yes, of course.
Gwen exited through the tiny gate and was not surprised to see Morgana waiting on the other side, a relieved and joyful smile on her face - a smile which, once upon a time, Gwen had associated with all things good and right in the world.
She only had a moment to take in the scene before her, eyes widening in panic as Morgana's iron hold on her mind loosened, before the other woman raised her hand and muttered a spell - and Guinevere's world dissolved into darkness.
••••••••••ARTHUR••••••••••
Merlin was riding hard just ahead of him and it was all Arthur could do to hang on as his horse was propelled forward at breakneck speed, seemingly as determined as Merlin and Arthur to reach their destination. Or maybe it was magic.
Merlin would get him to Ygranna. He had to keep telling himself that. He could not think about Guinevere right now - he did not know if it was possible that she could still be alive, or imagine why Morgana would possibly need her, but he would have to save his panic for later. Until they found Morgana and knew exactly what had happened, he could not let himself lose hope for either his child or his Queen.
They had been riding for more than an hour, but the horses were not tiring. This was definitely magic, and Arthur had never welcomed it more. It was just him, Merlin, Gwaine, Leon and Percival, as they had quickly decided that a stealth attack was the best option. Morgana might not know about Ygranna's charmed necklace, and they had to bank on the fact that she would therefore not see them coming.
As they neared a steep cliff wall, Arthur's heart began to sink. He had a sneaking suspicion that they were not going to be able to go around it or find a natural way up. And no matter what Merlin had done to the horses, he doubted that he could make them fly.
Arthur's suspicion was proven right when, with the cliff only a short distance away, Merlin pulled on his horse's reins so hard the horse reared - but Merlin was already jumping off and running the last bit of distance to the wall, and Arthur could see the desperation and panic welling within him even before he let out a horrible yell and punched into the wall so hard, Arthur heard a crack even as he dismounted his own horse and broke into a run.
He reached Merlin as the other man was collapsing against the cliff wall, cradling his broken hand to his chest and sobbing.
"Arthur, she's up there," he was saying, and it took everything Arthur had not to join Merlin in his panic. "I can't get up there, Arthur, how are we going to get up there?"
Not caring the slightest bit about his knights, Arthur enveloped Merlin in a tight hug, running his hands down his back soothingly.
"Shhh, Merlin," he said, ignoring the way his heart was hammering wildly and trying to get his breathing under control. "You can do it, I know you can. You don't need horses. I know how powerful you are. Just focus. You can do this."
And even though they were only words, even though his intention had been to soothe the other man, Arthur truly believed it. He had such complete faith in the other man, and maybe that should worry him - but how could it? It was Merlin. His Merlin. "You can do this," he repeated softly, pressing a kiss to the top of Merlin's head.
Merlin stilled beneath him. His breathing became more steady, and a few whispered words sent a wave of heat through the hand that was resting against Arthur's tunic. After a moment, Merlin raised his head from Arthur's chest, and Arthur drew in a sharp breath when he realised that Merlin's eyes were glowing gold. He would never get used to that sight, so beautiful and terrifying all at the same time.
"You're right," Merlin said, his voice determined. "I won't lose her, Arthur, not again. I will get us there."
"I know you will," Arthur said, believing it. Willing Merlin to believe it.
Merlin nodded once, then moved back, out of Arthur's embrace, and got to his feet - a little shakily, but his head was held high. Arthur followed Merlin with his eyes as the other man moved away from the cliff wall, past the knights (who had been hovering uncertainly by the horses watching the exchange), and out onto the open field. For a wild moment, Arthur thought maybe Merlin was just going to just keep going, until Merlin's voice - strong and sure and nothing like what Arthur knew - filled the silence.
"O drakon, e male so ftengometta tesd'hup'anankes!" Merlin called, his head cast skyward, his arms spread wide and commanding.
For a moment, nothing happened.
And then the dragon arrived.
Arthur sprang to his feet and his sword was halfway out of his scabbard before he realised what he was doing. He knew about the dragon, of course, he knew how his father had killed its kind and kept it imprisoned, and he knew how Merlin had set it free.
Still. Seeing it now, when last time he encountered it he had been fighting for his life, it was a shock.
The dragon landed in front of Merlin and, absurdly, bowed. Well, Merlin was a Dragonlord, and Arthur knew what that meant, but... the idea of anyone bowing to Merlin would probably always strike Arthur as bizarre. Under different circumstances, he might even have laughed.
As it was, he just edged slowly closer, his hand still on the hilt of his sword. For all he knew, the dragon might turn on Merlin, and if that happened Arthur wanted to be able to protect him the best he could. He would not lose another person he loved today.
But Merlin was talking to it, imploring it, insisting that he needed to get up onto that cliff. Promising the dragon that this was the last thing he would ever ask of it, which seemed to Arthur a rash choice, but one he would have made himself in a heartbeat.
And the dragon responded, in a strange, echoing voice, and Arthur wasn't sure if he was hearing it out loud or in his own mind. "Merlin, I am old," the dragon said, and Arthur thought he heard regret in its voice. "The time for me to assist you on your quests is, I am afraid, over."
"No," Merlin said, shaking his head desperately as Arthur slipped up to his side, hoping that his arm pressing against Merlin's would offer him a bit of support. "No, Kilgharrah, please, you have tohelp us!"
"Us?" the dragon asked curiously, acknowledging Arthur with a slight incline of its enormous head. "I see. I am pleased for you, young warlock. It seems you have finally discovered your destiny. But this is one task you will have to solve on your own. I cannot help you rescue your Queen."
Merlin looked so distraught, so broken. But damn it if Arthur was going to let some overgrown lizard stand in the way of him getting up that wall.
"Dragon," he called, trying to sound as intimidating as he could even though the beast could obviously incinerate him where he stood. "Please. We know we are asking a lot, but this is the most important thing Merlin will ever ask you to do. After everything, it is on your honour to assist him."
"Young Pendragon. Your destiny has been unclear to me for some time now," the dragon said, addressing him directly for the first time. "I do not know what lies ahead for you anymore, and it would not be wise for me to interfere any more than I already have."
"You claim to be some great dragon, but yet you would refuse your Dragonlord's request?" Arthur shouted, anger welling up inside him, and he was hoping he didn't imagine the slight bowing of the dragon's head, as if in shame. "Kilgharrah," he tried again, imploring, "I do not know you. I know what my father did to you, but I am not my father. Which I suspect you know already." He took a deep breath. "This is not just about Morgana, or Gwen. This is about my child. Merlin's child." He grasped Merlin's hand – whether for his own reassurance or for Merlin's, he didn't know. "Our child," he said, unnecessarily, but he needed the dragon to know. To understand.
Someone sucked in a surprised breath behind him, and he wondered which of his knights had not yet put the pieces together himself. It didn't matter right now. If they ever did get Ygranna back, Arthur would never again hide who she really was, what she really meant. He would never deny Merlin the right to love her as freely as he did himself.
The dragon was silent for a long time. "A child. I did not know," he said slowly, speculatively, gold eyes flickering between Arthur and Merlin. "This was not foretold." He sounded almost accusatory, as though someone had unexpectedly changed the ending of his favourite story.
"Please, Kilgharrah," Merlin whispered. "I am begging you. No. I am telling you. Take us to the top of this cliff. Help us save Ygranna."
There was a silence. Then the dragon nodded. Arthur sagged against Merlin slightly in relief.
"I can only manage to carry the two of you. And only to the top of the cliff. I fear that this shall be my final journey." The dragon paused. "But I am glad of this news. This changes everything." Arthur thought he saw a flicker of relief in the dragon's eyes as they fell on him again. "For both of you."
Merlin nodded as if he understood what the dragon was saying (and maybe he did - maybe there were still some things that Merlin hadn't told Arthur after all), and a tentative smile lit up his face. "Let's go," he said.
And before Arthur knew it, he found himself on the dragon's back, his arms tight around Merlin's waist, pressing into his reassuring warmth as the ground disappeared beneath them and they soared upwards into the sky.