Chapter 22 – The battle for Camelot part II

Here you go; nearly 7k words of more or less pure action. Enjoy.

Beta: Still looking for one for my other story "A Twisted Word" that I'll finish next

Words: 6781

I don't own Merlin

Arthur was in the process of forming some kind of plan to take back the castle. At the time he had dismissed stealing the keys from the guards and was therefore still stuck on how to get out of the cells. If they could just get on the other side of the bars, they could knock out the badly trained guards and slowly gain more weapons as they fought their way to where his father was kept and then to the throne room where Cenred was probably lounging around in his father's throne. Right now he was ignoring everything that could go wrong with that plan and instead concentrated on how to get out in the first place.

Maybe if he could just get a guard inside the cell … But then there would still be the shackles.

Soft steps registered in the back of his mind and he snapped out from where he had been staring into space. Expecting a guard or even Cenred he stood up and straightened his back. Around him Camelot's knights and even Lancelot, Gwaine and Percival did the same; none wanted to appear weak in front of the enemy.

Only Miley stayed sitting, but the sorcerer didn't really count anyway. An image of a frightened Morgana entered his mind as her nightmares turned out to be true. She wasn't evil, though they had both been sure that her dreams had been magic. He wondered what might have happened to her after the invasion. He would personally strangle Cenred if he had ever laid even a finger on her.

A figure came around the corner and Arthur recognised him at once and relaxed his stance, though the glare stayed in place.

"Oh, it's you. Come to gloat?"

That made the sorcerer react, as he looked up and sneered at the Prince. "Leave him alone."

"Why should I? He's a traitor." He turned back to Merlin. "Well, why are you here then?"

Merlin didn't answer, just glanced nervously around before his gaze settled on the sorcerer. For a few moments it appeared like they had a conversation just with their eyes, then the former apprentice stepped closer and, to Arthur's big surprise, opened the cell door with a muttered spell and a flash of golden eyes.

Arthur cursed and moved back.

"I should have known." And he had, a small voice whispered in his mind, he had seen the signs already when they escaped the slavers; he just hadn't wanted to admit it.

His mutterings were ignored as the newly revealed sorcerer stepped closer and lifted his hand.

Arthur took another step back and sneered. "Don't come any closer. Sorcerer." He could hear the clanking of chains of to the side as the blond sorcerer rose to his feet. He could nearly feel Morgana's glare if she ever found out that he was acting like this, but this was different.

Morgana had had no choice with her magic. These people were already traitors beside their magic.

"If you quit being an idiot for one second, you might notice that the boy is about to free you."

"What?" Arthur took another step back in shock, now straining against the shackles, and glanced at the other sorcerer. Why the hell would the traitor wish to free him? They must be lying, yet the lie was so far fetched that they must have known that he would never believe it, so why try?

Merlin had raised his arms, not in a threatening way but rather as if he had truly been reaching for the chains and was taken aback when the prince had stepped out of reach. He dropped them to his side and hunched his shoulders slightly.

"I'm sorry, I didn't-"

"You didn't what," the former Prince sneered. He knew that he should probably just let the boy speak, if there was even a grain of truth in what the sorcerer had said … But he was angry, angry on Cenred for attacking his kingdom, his home; angry on himself for not noticing what was happening right beneath his nose, for thinking Lancelot might be a traitor, when the real one was walking right beside him. And now he finally had someone to let his anger out on, to blame for this whole mess, even though he in a small part of his mind that the whole blame couldn't be given to the boy before him; that he just was just the pawn not the mind behind the attack.

Merlin suddenly glared at him. "I didn't want to do this."

"I'm sure," Arthur gave him a fake smile. "A sorcerer who didn't want to see my father overthrown."

"They've bound me. Sir Eadric can literally control what I do. And they have … They have." Merlin chocked, the words stuck in his throat, and a look of deep sorrow appeared on his face. The anger gone as quickly as it had arrived.

Arthur had just opened his mouth to ask, when the sorcerer interrupted him.

"This is really not the time for this. Merlin is right; the assassin can control him through a pair of manacles and it is a wonder that he hasn't come here and stopped us already."

Arthur looked at the young man before him. The strands of black hair nearly covered Merlin's eyes as he stood with his head slightly lowered in something resembling a half-bow, yet the genuine regret and fear was still easy to spot and Arthur was suddenly unsure of what to do.

"I see no manacles." His voice was quiet and unsure, nearly a question instead of an accusation.

"They are invisible to anyone who doesn't possess magic."

Arthur raised at Merlin. "That's awfully convenient."

Merlin didn't say anything else.

His father would never trust a sorcerer, let alone two, yet what was the worst that could happen? They were already prisoners, and were probably awaiting torture or execution, likely both.

Arthur swallowed once. "Alright." Merlin looked up in shock and Arthur raised his shackled arms as a silent invitation. "Do it."

The last sentence was meant as a command, but ended up coming out too softly for it to have the desired effect.

Merlin was still hesitating slightly and send another glance at the other sorcerer.

"Just … Promise to let us go afterwards."

"Us?" Arthur looked at the blond sorcerer, who raised one eyebrow in a clear challenge.

"Please." Merlin was wringing his hands and clearly getting nervous, his voice turning slightly desperate as he continued to blabber. "He is a prisoner too, so he is clearly not fully the King's man. He wasn't even a part of the attack!"

"No, he just infiltrated my castle and captured me and my men." The Prince's tone was cold, the sarcasm so thick it was dripping from every word.

Noice could be heard from the end of the corridor; guards shouting to each other and the prisoners as they checked each cell. They had obviously realised that something was wrong. He suddenly wondered how Merlin had even managed to get to them.

"Please," Merlin said again, and Arthur was beginning to wonder if the boy could say anything else or if he had somehow broken him. The boy's gaze had wandered over his shoulder; he had clearly noticed the commotion as well.

"Fine," Arthur snapped, and the words had barely left his mouth before Merlin acted. Quicker than Arthur could react the boy had taken another step closer, laid his hand on the former Prince's shackles and then they were already lying on the cell floor.

Arthur stumbled back in shock at the golden flash in Merlin's eyes, before rightening himself and glaring at the boy, though he did nothing else.

Nothing seemed to add up anymore. Him working with sorcerers to free his father who executed anyone even suspecting of working with a sorcerer. A fleeting thought whispered that he was one of those people now, and that his father would execute him for it too should he find out. He dismissed it; his father wouldn't know. He would make sure of it.

And if the two sorcerers escaped punishment too; well, he had promised to let them go.

Merlin proceeded to release the other men from the surrounding prisons. They all looked at the young sorcerer with a slightly wary gazes, though none of them did anything to stop him. Whether because they trusted the boy not to hurt them, or because of the Prince's example, Arthur didn't know.

The shouts from the guards that had been far away only a few moments before now sounded just around the corner.

"We need to hurry," a voice said behind him and Arthur was surprised to see that it was Merlin who had spoken. When had he managed to sneak back into the cell?

Arthur didn't let his surprise slow him for long, and soon they had all gathered outside in the hallway between the cells. Only Miley was left behind, and Arthur frowned at that. He didn't like the man, but he had seemed close to Merlin and he did promise to let both of them go, so he had expected, maybe naïvely, that both of them would help as well.

Miley seemed to read his silent question on his face and smiled without mirth. He dangled his chains in front of him. "Magic-proof." He nodded to the chains, "you need the keys for these." It sounded like an apology which made Arthur frown even more even as he turned around to face the tumult that closed in on them as the dungeon guards noticed them.

Arthur noticed that Percival and Gwaine had snook back into their cell and closed the unlocked door behind them, the latter sending Arthur a wink when he noticed his gaze. The Prince had an inclination of what they were doing and nodded back. This battle could not be won by brute force or skills alone; they might be a larger group then the guards, but they were unarmed and without armour. One lucky hit and they would be left unable to fight or worse.

The guards shouted at them to stay where they were, and for once Arthur listened. It wasn't as there were a lot of other places to go; this was a dead end just as all the other corridors down here. There was only once entrance to the dungeons after all.

Instead, they waited for the first pair of guards to get closer. As the pair arrived at their t-junction, shouting and swinging wildly with their weapons to get them to step back, which they all did without question. Skilled or not, their weapons were sharp and deadly.

"Slowly now. We wouldn't want to have any accidents happen, do we?" The group took another few steps back down the right corridor, until they were back at the entrance to Arthur's cell.

The guards slowed down as soon as they noticed that the prisoners were listening. One of them pointed at Arthur with his weapon. "You there, open the door and step in." He pointed at Leon and Lancelot. "You follow and close the door. No funny ideas. Everyone else take three steps back."

Everyone listened, and slowly did as they were told. Arthur stepped into the cell again, catching Miley's raised eye brow, and smiled at him while his back was to the guards. Then he turned to watch as Leon and Lancelot stepped in too, the later closing the door.

Meanwhile the others had moved back, while the other guards kept a close eye on them, weapon ready to be used if anyone tried to run. No one did.

The first guard sent the group a look before stepping slowly towards Arthur's cell, never turning his back to the group, even as he reached for the keys at his belt. The second the guard looked down to place the key in the whole Arthur looked up, caught Gwaine's eyes for a moment, before both of them ran up and slammed the cell doors open.

Arthur's guard had managed to stumble back in time to not get hit, but the other guard had stood just a bit too close to what he had assumed was a locked cell, and had been clipped on the shoulder. He fell down on the floor with a shout that just added to the confusion, as the rest of the group ran up to the pair.

Arthur focused on the guard before him, who was now caught between the Prince and the charging group and used precious seconds to decide which to defend against. At last he chose the closer Prince and swung widely at him so Arthur had to duck out of the way unless he wanted his head cut off. In doing so, however, the guard left his back free for Sir Cadmon and the knight punched him in the back of his head, adding a kick to the legs to make the guard topple.

A last kick to the head made sure that he would stay down, and Arthur could turn his attention back towards the rest of the fight going on, which wasn't much as the other guard had never managed to actually regain his footing, and now lay sprawled on the spot he had first fallen; a bit of blood running down from a cut at his temple.

They weren't allowed to catch their breath however, as reinforcement arrived not a moment later. Arthur grabbed the guard's fallen sword and joined the fray; the armed people fighting in the front, slowly joined by the rest as they too collected the weapons of the downed guards.

Another small batch of guards later, the now more or less armed group began to move towards the entrance of the dungeon just as the warning bells began to ring.

"Pendragon!" Someone called behind him, and Arthur turned around. The blond sorcerer was still standing shackled in the cell. "You'll need my sword. Find it."

The Prince barely registered the assassin's strange request, yet nodded all the same before running after the others. Merlin came up beside him and Arthur had a hard time not flinching when the boy brushed past him.

"I'll find the sword," Merlin shouted and went down the corridor leading out of the dungeons. Arthur shouted after him to try and stop him, but the young sorcerer was already.

Thoughts of a second betrayal filled the former Prince's head as he helped his men search for his father. The warning bells now echoed through the castle and Arthur knew that they wouldn't have more than a few minuets before they would be swarmed by soldiers. His breath came out in small puffs and desperation was practically pumping through his veins as he searched cell after cell without finding any signs of the former King of Camelot.

They couldn't have killed him already, right? He dismissed the thought; Cenred would have made it as public as possible, and Arthur had not seen anything from the barred window in his cell. Besides; Cenred would, at the very least, have come down to gloat. No, his father must be alive still. He had to be. Arthur couldn't afford to think anything else.

As the minutes went by without any results, Arthur slowly had to come to the realisation that they wouldn't find Uther in time to escape. He had to chose between his King and his men, and in the end he wouldn't be worth anything to the King if they were all dead or recaptured.

It still felt like he was committing treason when he called the search of and ordered everyone out of the dungeons.

They had barely gotten left the stairs towards the dungeons before reenforcement arrived. After Merlin had left, Gwaine had picked some of the locks to the cells containing Camelot's knights and soldiers that had survived the invasion, but without magic this process had taken a lot of time and Arthur had far less armed men than he liked as they met the forces head on.

In the middle of the fight their original small group had been separated, so when Arthur and Gwaine finally broke through the group of essetirian soldiers most of his force was still left fighting for their lives.

They were just about to rejoin the fight when Sir Cadmon shouted for them to go on with their mission and find Merlin if they could. Arthur was all set on ignoring this comment though, and would have joined the fight regardless if Gwaine and Lancelot hadn't dragged him back.

"Release me," he snarled at the two men as Sirs Fane and Leon joined up with their small group. Edgar, Cadmon and Percival were all still caught up in the fight.

"Sorry Princess, can't do that." Gwaine didn't sound sorry at all, although his serious tone made Arthur stop struggling against their hold on his arms and think.

"Fine."

Three soldiers joined their group, but went back to the fight when he waved them away. If this should have any chance of working they needed a small force that was less likely to be discovered.

He gestured for the four men to follow him and they resumed their mission to get to the throne room where Cenred could most likely be found, often using less known passages and routes that Arthur only knew from his maps and escapades as a child running from his tutors and nursemaids.

They managed to run down several corridors without being discovered by a patrol though they heard more than one pass close by, when a pained shout and a clatter made them turn around.

Sir Fane, who had been their rearguard, was lying on the floor clutching his upper arm, where a bit of blood had already begun to show through his fingers. His sword laid to the side of him, where the young man had dropped it, and seeing as it was his sword-arm that was hurt, it was unlikely that the young knight would be worth much in the upcoming fight.

All this registered in Arthur's mind in the split second he had to take the situation in. What filled the most though was the person standing above the knight, staring down at the young knight with a blank expression.

Merlin.

Arthur's mind turned blank and he just reacted. He rushed forwards and parried the blow that would have cost the knight his life. A small fragment of metal broke off from his sword, and Arthur was just grateful that it didn't break completely; you should never block with your blade, yet in that moment he hadn't really had a choice.

Merlin didn't react at all to his attack being blocked. He just took a step back and swung again, this time at Arthur, and the former Prince had to jump back to avoid getting hit. He couldn't recognise the sorcerer's rune-covered sword as one of theirs, so he guessed that Merlin had succeeded in finding the sword that Miley had been talking about.

And now he had chosen to attack them with it. Wonderfull. Or maybe not chosen, but commanded to, Arthur thought as he sidestepped another attack from the former physician assistant before retaliating with a jab of his own, and stared into his opponents dull eyes. The blond sorcerer might just have told him the truth after all, though it didn't make the problem before him any smaller.

Merlin's next attack left his right side open for an attack, yet Arthur didn't want to kill the boy and instead stepped closer, taking the sorcerer off guard, before the former Prince's next attack knocked the sword out of his hands.

Arthur held his sword to the boy's chest before Merlin could try to retrieve his own blade.

The next moment Arthur was flying through the air and he managed to mentally curse himself for forgetting that the boy had magic and didn't even need a blade, before hitting the hard stone floor several meters further down the corridor. His blade was knocked out of his hand when he landed together with all the air in his lungs, and for a few precious moments Arthur could only lay stunned while he tried to will the air back into his lungs. When he finally succeeded to do just that, he finally realised why none of the others had helped him fight; they were all looking at the cloaked man standing in the middle of the corridor, blocking their way.

Something lay slumped at the man's feet, and Arthur recognised Fane's short, brown locks, even as a distinctive red puddle grew beneath him. There was something with that sight; somehow unreal. The youth was too still; he probably never even managed to get to his feet and now he was dead.

Arthur felt a stab of sorrow at the loss of his friend that quickly turned into a burning hatred for the the man responsible.

The former Prince tried to meet the murderer's eyes, but the cloak made this impossible. He could see the man's mouth though, and the half-smile he wore made Arthur want to shout in rage and hurt; made him want to wipe the smirk off of the creature's face, preferable with his blade, yet he restrained himself at the last moment.

The assassin was another thing Arthur had conveniently forgotten in their mad dash for freedom; or more like ignored in favour of getting away. Somewhere in his mind he had convinced himself that everything would be alright if they could just get out of the cells, find the king and escape the castle.

He had heard the rumours about the man before him of course, if he could really be called a man at all, and if only half of them were true, he knew that here was no way he could win that fight. Not one on one at least, and while he had no doubt that his men would stand behind him if he chose to try, there was no way they could compete against the man's magic.

The chance had been lost. Any further attack would result in a bloodbath.

He had to admit defeat. Again.

Since when did he start to lose so often? Since when did he ever get so weak. He was supposed to be the Crown Prince, damnit! He was supposed to be leasing his men to victory, not dragging them down with him.

After today he wasn't sure if he was even worthy of his title. He had never felt that way before; uncertain and humbled; yes. Afraid; all the time. But not undeserving, never undeserving.

Not until now.

Arthur signalled for his men to stand down and guards grabbed their arms as soon as they had dropped their weapons. He followed without resisting down the corridors. He let them manhandle him into the throne room and let himself be pushed to the knees before the the usurper.

He kept his face blank, made it impossible for anyone to read him.

Yet, inside his emotions where as wild as waves hitting the cliffs in a storm.

Merlin watched the heels of the guards marching in front of him. He didn't want to raise his gaze in case any of the prisoners happened to look back. It was like someone had cut the connection between his head and the rest of his body; his limbs were moving as they normally would; his steps even and swift as he fell in step with the group, but it wasn't himself that was making them move.

It had been months since he had last had felt like this, and he had nearly forgotten it with everything else happening. Only now could he see how naïve it was to think that he could have helped the others escape without being noticed.

The mental commands given had been without warning, and he had not even been able to give a shout in surprise before he was already moving instinctually to disarm the knight, who had not been expecting the attack from behind.

A picture of Fane's young face entered his thoughts. Sneaked in from a corner of his mind, where he had tried to lock the memories away. In a way he was glad that Eadric had arrived so quickly that he did, or it might had been him who had showed a sword through the back of someone who had been a good acquaintance, if not close to a friend.

He swallowed and was careful only to watch the step of those in front of him.

One step, two steps, three steps.

Maybe that wasn't even the worst of it, maybe the worst was that he didn't consider the murder of someone he had known to be the worst of it, that he wasn't thinking and worrying about his mother, or his friends, or even himself. The only thing he did was wondering about if he would have still followed if someone hadn't been controlling each step. Or if he would have taken the chance to run, maybe tried to get back to his mother though he knew Eadric would find him wherever he went.

The boots stopped and he followed their lead. He could hear the huge oak doors open, and looked up without raising his head from the ground.

The newly self-crowned king of Camelot was sitting on the throne while a few Knights and soldiers stood around listening to whatever the King was currently saying. At the sound of the door closing the King turned his cold gaze at them and grinned, absently waving his men away.

"Looks at that. The Pendragon whelp has deemed me worthy of a visit. I'm honoured." Cenred's grin became even wider until he looked like a snarling dog; all crooked teeth on show.

Eadric kicked at Arthur's inner knees so the former Prince fell to the ground, knees first. Merlin could only see the man's back, but taking in the man's tense body he could imagine the glare directed at the King.

He didn't have more time to take in the scene as he was suddenly moving too, kicking Sir Leon to his knees as several guards did the same to the rest, until the King could stare down on all his prisoners.

Eadric drew his sword and held it to the former Crown Prince's throat. Arthur didn't make a sound. Merlin was glad he didn't.

"Lovely. The high suits you, Pendragon." The king seemed to think for a moment. "Maybe we should have it made permanent. What do you think?"

Before Arthur could come with an answer a voice from Merlin's left interrupted him. "Cenred." The sound wasn't a growl, it wasn't even said in a loud voice, but the cold tone still cut through the silence. Merlin flinched, old memories of a grey castle resurfacing for a moment before he could burry them again.

Cenred just glared at the sorcerer, but didn't continue.

"Very well. As lovely as this meeting has been, I've better things to do than to entertain a group of boys playing knights." He waved his hand at the group on their knees. "Take the Pendragon whelp back to his cell. Kill the rest."

It took Merlin a moment to fully register the words, enough time for the soldiers to draw their swords. One breath. He felt his own arm swing back, his weapon heavy and deadly in his hand. His heart was pounding in his chest.

Another breath, more a gasp; a desperate sound that filled his ears and made all other sounds dull.

Breathe in.

His arm began its trip back towards the knight's exposed neck.

No.

Merlin could feel the assassin's lingering commands filling a part of his mind, even while the man himself was otherwise occupied with the King; a slimy substance that was clinging to his control of every muscle in his body. It covered the magic in his veins, like sticky chains, and forced his limbs to obey.

Everything happened so quickly, no more than a blink of an eye.

In a desperate last attempt of stopping himself murdering the knight, Merlin flung a mental attack at the foreign presence invading his mind, trying to draw on his rather sluggish magic even as the invisible bonds tightened in return. A small amount of his golden power managed to break away from the invisible chains, and he used it to strengthen his attack, forming a mental spear that slammed into the invading glob.

He had never tried anything like it and didn't expect it to work, yet still a mental scream of frustration when the attack just glanced of.

The chains reached out towards his essence and Merlin knew on an instinctual level that he couldn't let it touch him. That if it did, he would be truly lost and the assassin would control him completely; mind, body and soul. He would no longer exist as his own person.

Primal urges to survive filled his mind and drove every other thoughts out of his mind. He forgot everything else; where he was and what he had been trying to do just the second before, until everything was focused on fight or flight, where the latter was impossible. Instead he yanked at the chains and this time his magic seemed to wake up; seemingly feeling its hosts plight. It rose up and drilled holes through the slimy chains, trying to burn them up even as a small part of the power burst out of Merlin's skin and filled the throne room.

Instinctually, a small wave of his magic burst out and slowed down time until everything was as frozen. Merlin released his grip on Miley's sword, and the weapon continued to hang in the air. Not floating, just frozen.

It was as if a basilisk had passed the castle, turning the whole world into invisible stone, and only he himself had avoided its gaze.

His wrists hurt, but the pain from the rest of his magic trying to destroy the chains and get out drowned everything else.

The power continued to build under his skin, his whole body was shaking as the pressure increased with each beat of his heart, until the pressure was big enough that he thought he would explode and he was sure that he would level the castle with the ground; burying them all under tons of marble.

His vision was greying at the edges. His control slipped for a moment, and then time resumed as normal.

The sword clattered to the ground beside him. The magic he had released still lingered in the air, doing something, though Merlin had completely lost any sense of control he might have had over it.

He barely noticed as every gaze turn to him, eyes widening in shock. He was more worried about the magic burning under his skin.

Something invaded his mind, a presence; foreign yet familiar. He wants it to go away, but - He. Can't. Focus.

Focus.

Focus.

Merlin wasn't sure if the voice in his head was his own thoughts or someone else's, yet it no longer mattered because nothing was making sense anymore. The world was a mess of colours. He thought he heard the sound of battle; metal hitting metal, shouts, but they sounded dull, unreal.

He must have collapsed to the ground because he could now feel the floor of the throne room touching his cheek. His skin felt warm and feverish, so he latched unto the feeling of the cold stone against his skin.

Breathe. His throat was burning and he might even have been screaming. He wasn't sure. He was not sure of anything anymore other than the pain.

In.

Arms are gripping his shoulders and he tried to twist away because it only makes the pain worse. And why aren't they helping him, can't they see that he is burning?

Out.

All his worries were being buried under the increasing pain, until he could no longer remember why he had wanted to keep the magic in in the first place.

A pounding pain centred itself in his head and chest; as if something is trying to get out, while the regions around his wrists burn hotter.

In.

In one second of clarity he opened his eyes - When did he close them? - and saw something blurred blocking the light from the windows. His gaze focused on the light surrounding the figure, then the panels behind it; the windows were clearer than he remembered. Had the sun become stronger?

Each second was dragged out; stretched until they lasted several lifetimes. His heart had slowed until it was nearly silent.

The last dull sounds finally disappeared and he released his hold on reality.

Out.

The escape hadn't worked. Of course it hadn't. When was life ever easy for the Crown Prince of Camelot? Yes, he had privileges that most would dream of, yet they seemed to always be drowned by the growing responsibilities, family drama and the bad luck that seems to follow him everywhere he went.

Like now.

One of his knights were dead, stabbed by a coward while he was already lying down, Merlin was somehow possessed by the assassin and was currently guarding Sir Leon, and their situation was just generally going from catastrophic to worse. Because, why not?

Maybe he should be worried about his thoughts becoming more and more sarcastic in the face of certain death. These increasingly common life-and-death situations were probably not doing anything good for his mental health.

Well, it wasn't like he was choosing any of this.

Cenred was saying something or another, probably mocking him judging by the usurper's tone, but Arthur wasn't really listening until someone kicked him in the back of his knees and he crashed to the floor.

He tried not wince at the pain shooting up from his kneecaps.

Cenred was talking again, and this time he couldn't stop the words from registering. "- high suits you, Pendragon." The false king got a calculating look in his eyes that Arthur didn't like at all. "Maybe we should have it made permanent. What do you think?"

Arthur didn't deem that worthy of an answer and Cenred didn't look like he expected one either way. Not that Arthur would have really cared if he had.

A voice interrupted Cenred's next words.

"Cenred." Arthur thought that this might have been the first time he ever heard the assassin speak and the voice certainly lived up to his expectation of a man that was said to scare the monsters under the beds.

Cenred just glared at the sorcerer, but didn't continue.

"Very well. As lovely as this meeting has been, I've better things to do than to entertain a group of boys playing knights." The usurper waved his hand at them. "Take the Pendragon whelp back to his cell. Kill the rest."

Arthur watched in horror as the guards to both side of him drew their weapons, and he threw himself against his own guard's grip, only stilling when he felt the cold press of metal against his neck. He contemplated trying to break free regardless, trying to calculate where to hit so the guard didn't slit his throat in reflex even after Cenred obviously wanted him kept alive, but he knew that even if he somehow succeeded, he still wouldn't manage to get to his men in time.

And then a miracle happened. Or Merlin happened, but at that moment Arthur saw them as one and the same.

A wave of something slammed into them, going through Arthur and his men, but toppling the guards while simultaneously making them lose their grip on their grip on their weapon. As if someone had cut the strings keeping them upright, so they were left to down in a boneless heap.

Arthur, like anyone else still staying upright, turned his gaze to the young sorcerer in the middle of the floor. Leon had crawled back a few paces, a wary expression on his face that was quickly turning into one of awe and fear.

The sorcerer's skin was glowing; a faint golden light that was slowly intensifying until he resembled a small sun.

Not one to look a gifted horse in the mouth, Arthur ignored Merlin and the collapsed guards and instead picked up his own guard's sword from the floor and threw himself at Cenred, who was watching the glowing sorcerer with wide eyes. The usurper's expression would have been comical in another situation, but Arthur proceeded to wipe it of his face when he nearly managed to impale the king, while he was still distracted.

At the last moment Cenred seemed to feel him impending doom and threw himself to the side over the throne's armrest.

The fight that followed between the two royals was not one of Arthur's more graceful fights; he was much to angry to focus on skill and precision and instead using his rage to increase the strength of each strike of his sword, completely disregarding the damage he was doing to the weapon as his only thought was to spill the blood of his opponent.

Cenred didn't last long under his barrage. His few counter attacks were wide and frantic as he focused most of his energy on trying to block the blond warrior's attacks. In the end he took a wrong step and nearly tumbled down the steps of the dais, he managed to catch his balance, however the two seconds of distraction was enough for Arthur to get around the King's defences and run him through.

Arthur didn't even wait to see the corpse fall to the ground, but immediately turned around to survey the situation and caught the assassin kneeling beside Merlin, who had collapsed to the ground, still glowing. Around them the soldiers in the room had apparently more or less recovered and were fighting Arthur's remaining men. He ignored their fight, hoping his men could hold their own for a few more minutes as something told him that getting to Merlin was far more important.

He ran down to the two sorcerers and yanked the assassin away, who went surprisingly easy and that was when he noticed that both of them had glowing rings around their wrist. Rings that resembled manacles disturbingly much.

He had no idea what he had to do and ended up grabbed the boy's shoulders, ignoring the boys sluggish attempts of getting away. Merlin opened his eyes, blinking slowly before meeting his gaze with unfocused eyes. Arthur wasn't sure if the boy was even really seeing him or not. Then his eyes closed again, and Merlin went completely limp in his grip, though the intense glow remained.

Suddenly he remembered the blond sorcerers' words back in the cell. The sword. He needed the sword.

He lowered Merlin back to the ground and looked around for the weapon that he knew the boy had held in his hand a few moment before.

There.

Barely a few feet away the sword lay innocently at the foot of the dais, runes glittering slightly in the light that Merlin's skin cast upon it.

He threw himself at it and crawled back on his knees, a soft hum filled his head, and he didn't thing that his legs would support him anymore. The hum increased its intensity as he neared the two sorcerers and he vaguely thought that it must be coming from the manacles.

There was no time to do it carefully, and so he swung his sword at Merlin's left wrist, hitting the manacle which broke with a few golden sparks. A thin line of red appeared where the blade managed to break skin, but Arthur had trained for years with a sword and he managed to stop his swing before the weapon did any real damage. Repeating the process on the boy's other wrist.

As soon as the last manacle broke, magic exploded out of the young sorcerer, before it all was seemingly sucked into the assassin's manacled that still adorned the man's wrist.

The man shouted in rage and clawed at the invisible metal as the skin underneath began to sizzle and smoke, yet they wouldn't come off and Arthur watched with cold detachment as the assassin was bathed in the same golden light that Merlin had been moments before, only the light seemed to attack the man until he imploded.

One second he was there, the next he was gone with no signs of having ever existed.

Constructive is welcome as always. More so now since this is the last chapter, and a chapter with a lot of dialogue and action that has been very difficult for me to write.