Disclaimer: I do not own Quest for Camelot, nor the books on which it was (very) loosely based!

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A/N: I have been writing with such furious desperation! I almost don't know how I could possibly have written so much in so little time! I hope it will make up, if even in some small way, for the spans of months and months during which there were no updates, throughout the years. I can't promise that this regular stretch will last much (or any) longer, but I do hope that it's been enjoyable, and that it has kept you all excited (and entertained!) I can't begin to say how grateful I am, and how grateful I have been all along, for all of your comments, your favorites, your follows, your words of encouragement. For every person who stumbled upon this story and said "I liked reading this—I hope you're still writing it!" (even though I have continued to assure you all that—and continued to be honestly devoted to insuring that—I would continue this story and/or post a discontinuation notice if it became too much)...thank you, for pressing me to keep coming back to this. Sometimes I needed that little bit of urgency and hope to push me to write just a little more, when writer's block struck. For all of you who have returned, again and again, excited when I've posted new chapters, telling me how happy you are that I've come back...thank you, so very, very much! Familiar "faces" warmed my heart, and reminded me why I was determined to make sure I finish this.

We're not done yet, of course—but as we grow ever closer, I thought it was definitely time to reiterate just how deeply I feel that appreciation toward all of you, and just how crucial those tiny words of encouragement were to my being able to push through and keep writing this. I truly couldn't have kept going without thoughts of you all egging me on, and your kind and(/or) encouraging words pushing me forward. Thank you so much!

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Chapter 25: Sir Lionel's Heir

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Kayley gasped as she flailed, falling backwards—only to have it cut off as she was steadied and pulled to a precarious crouch. She almost struggled against the grip on her, furious and uncomfortable being grabbed unexpectedly...but then she realized who it was who had caught her.

"Goodman Garrett!" she cried, besides herself with joy, relief, and concern. Their precarious position shifted, and they were forced sideways off of their platform, Kayley calling out a warning for Garrett to roll. Impressively, he positioned himself to obey, trusting she knew they could safely land, despite the terror of falling without sight. While his landing was rougher than hers, seeing exactly where the wall was below them, it was still quite impressive to the woman who knew he could not see.

"...Lady Kayley." Garrett finally responded to the greeting, taking up a stance with his staff to fend off the metal monsters...only to be shaken by a terrible roar as a shadow passed close overhead, causing Kayley to scream. But the shadow—no, a creature!—swooped low before them and swept the metal men off of the tower with a powerful swing of its tail.

THOSE WHO WOULD HARM THE FEMALE HUMAN FRIEND WILL SUFFER TAIL, TOOTH, AND CLAW!

WE WILL INSURE THAT THOSE WHO SEIZED HER WILL PAY FOR THEIR CRIME AGAINST DRAGONS!

"I must beg your pardon for tarrying. There was...unfinished business, to tend overnight." he noted, before being interrupted by another furious roar. "...at least they seem to be able to control their voices better." he noted dryly. Kayley gaped, shocked for a moment.

"...Devon? Cornwall...?!" she gasped, stunned. She could hardly reconcile the majestic, awe-inspiring, and terrifying beast before her to the flimsy, serpentine brothers of whom she had grown fond during their travels.

Yes, Lady Kayley.

Yes, Dragon-Friend.

Tears stung her eyes, and she gave a deep curtsy, bowing her head.

"I am honored to see you in your true form...and honored to be called your friend. I must beg your aid once again, though you have just saved my life."

As you saved ours, Devon noted, in the chill of the tunnels, and the cool of the forest.

We do not forget, even with our own fire now in our belly... Cornwall assured her.

"Please...prevent the gryphon from harming as many as you can—but take care to avoid arrows and crossbow bolts! I have seen the metal monsters use them before, and I do not know how the town folk will react to a dragon so majestic and fearsome as you." she flattered and instructed at once, as only a noble might do with such finesse. "Goodman Garrett and I must find a way to pass unseen by the gryphon, if we are to reach our King—we must try to come to his aid, before it is too late! If you can distract the beast, it may yet be possible to save Camelot!

We will not be defeated! Powerful though the beast may be, dragons will prevail!

We will fly with the strength of our kind! We will best and thwart the gryphon in the air!

As will I! Came a rich call, accompanied by a falcon's screech, as Ayden dove down, swooping in arcs before the Keep, drawing the gryphon's attention. With a roar, it chased him. Ayden swooped over the gryphon's head, scratching the beast with sharp talons and drawing a furious roar as it turned to chase him, mouth wide.

"Ayden!"

We will defend him...GO! Devon ordered sharply, his rumbling silent voice still so strange, so new—yet somehow painfully familiar to Kayley.

BEWARE THE WRATH OF DRAGONS, WHEN YOU HUNT A KINDRED FEY! Bellowed Cornwall with palpable mental fury, and they sped through the air, wings beating hard, making Kayley's ears ring with the pressure waves of the powerful strokes against the air.

"Where is the King?!" Garrett asked, at once back on-task. Kayley grabbed his hand and ran toward the nearest guard-post, heading to the steep stairs down to the town within the walls.

"He's trapped in the King's Keep! The metal men are preventing anyone from coming to his aid, and the gryphon is guarding the air—there is no way inside!" Kayley fretted through panting breaths as she ran.

"...no...there is a way!" Garrett said, hope blossoming in his chest. "Quickly—to the stables!"

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*~*~*~*~*~*INSIDE THE KEEP*~*~*~*~*~*

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Arthur was surprised that something in the room was stirring when he arrived—surely his guest could not have been shown in before him?! Still, he called uncertainly into the hall.

"...Lady Juliana?" he asked, voice polite but commanding. If she were to hear him, she would have no choice but to respond to her King. Of course, knowing Juliana, it would be without hesitation or bitterness. Never once had she or her late husband shirked his call. Whatever had brought her to Camelot, in these dire times...he would hear her.

"Alas," came an all-too-familiar voice, dripping with venom and glee. "I fear I am not the guest you seek. Though surely you must be pleased to meet an old friend?" Ruber asked, grinning wickedly as he stood from the table. Despite the doubts that rose momentarily, King Arthur pushed them back down. Lady Juliana, Sir Lionel's widow, would never betray him. This was the man who had killed her husband, Arthur's dear friend and fiercely loyal vassal. If anything...Ruber's presence along with Lady Juliana's appearance meant some harm had come to his friend's surviving wife.

Arthur steadied himself, dominant arm still in its sling, and grabbed a pike with his good hand—the one he less often used. Grimly, he set himself against his bitter foe.

"...Ruber." he spat with venom.

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*~*~*~*~*~*AT THE STABLES*~*~*~*~*~*

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The ride to the stables had been terrifying. Garrett had heard an escaped horse and swung up into the saddle without hesitation. Kayley suddenly remembered that he had spent his youth tending such beasts.

"You must count the streets aloud as we pass them, so I can find our way—where are we now?" he demanded, offering Kayley a hand and helping pull her up in front of him. Kayley had the strange and sudden memory of being swung up before a Knight, when she intercepted her father's funeral procession. The chilling parallel made her shudder, and Garrett drew back the fraction that he could, thinking it was the closeness that had disquieted her. Kayley ignored the situation, focusing on the more desperate one at hand. Besides, it should have distressed her as such, to be so physically close to a man.

"We are astride a horse, with the main gates down a long ways to the right, and the king's keep behind us and to our left. Ahead there is a bubbling fountain—"

"On the right or left?"

"In front, but on the right." Kayley confirmed, refusing to bristle at the interruption. Time was of the essence, and she was simply serving as his eyes. Even after so many years, even without his sight, Garrett knew the town infinitely better than Kayley, seeing it for the first time—and in such dire circumstances! —could hope even to guess.

"Keep it immediately on our right and go down the road in front of us—the one nearest the fountain." he ordered, and kicked his heels into the horse's side with a yelled command. It took off as a gallop and Kayley leaned forward, squinting as its mane flew up and the wind struck her eyes. She yelled as loudly and clearly as she could as they passed each street, counting aloud.

"ONE...TWO...THREE—" she counted, and Garrett suddenly veered to the left. Several streets further, it was repeated to the right. When they turned one corner, Kayley yelled in fright—"FIRE!" and Garrett veered them to the right and took them around several blocks, the horse whinnying in terror. But Garrett kept the beast steady, forcing it onward firmly. When it saw the stables, it bolted toward them, despite Garrett's attempts to steady its pace. The beast had finally startled, and would not be calmed. It crashed through the partially-open doors, and its riders were flung unceremoniously off of its back as it kicked in the doors of its stalls.

"...good thing for the hay." Kayley said, dazed momentarily.

"Not the most terrible ride, all things considered." Garrett grunted in his usual brusque way, quickly righting himself and feeling around for...something. Kayley sighed with exasperation and barely-calming fear, but followed the hermit.

"What are you...?" she started to ask, but was cut off by his exultant cry as he hurriedly scooped hay away with his hands, revealing a hatch with handles, which he pried open with difficulty.

"Here! The passage to the castle—quickly, we have already lost too much time!" he cried, pulling her forward. She hesitated as they reached the bottom.

"B-but I cannot see!" she objected, only realizing after she blurted it out how ridiculous such a complaint must sound, to him, and her cheeks burned with shame. She almost apologized, but the words pinched off in her throat as a calloused hand gently took hers, urgency still apparent.

"Fear not, Noblewoman...this time, I will be your eyes." he assured her, but he didn't stop to give her time to consider before pressing quickly on, rushing them down the passageway, staff sweeping expertly and swiftly before them, pace at near-run.

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*~*~*~*~*~*INSIDE THE KEEP*~*~*~*~*~*

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"A measly pike!" Ruber sneered, laughing maliciously, teeth bared in a vicious grin. "Oh, how the mighty have fallen! Why, a king should wield a mightier weapon—a true king would wield...EXCALIBUR!" he shouted gleefully, throwing back the draped fabric of his cape, revealing the horrible marriage of his flesh to the magical blade. Arthur recoiled at the horrible sight, which only fed Ruber's mad delight. He cackled, eyes bright and wild.

The renegade struck, and Arthur grunted with the strain of parrying, feeling his injured arm jarring. Even with all of Merlin's tending, it was not back to full force. Could his friend sense his need? Was anyone aware of the traitor who had sneaked into the castle? A roar outside the window of the keep, and the golden glow of fire startled him, suggesting that more than just this attempt at regicide was happening in his castle. Arthur felt simultaneous pangs of fury, and anguish. My people!

In his anger and desperation, Arthur attempted to land a daring blow—but his stronger arm right now was not his more practiced one, and the evil man parried it easily, using the momentum of his swing to knock Arthur backwards, the sovereign's back hitting the Round Table and knocking the breath from his lungs with a painful blow. The king barely managed to roll and evade the next attack. He lifted the pike to block another strike, but the magical sword split the wood easily, despite its strength and quality.

Arthur paled as the end with the head was ripped from his grasp with the sickening twist of the stump that ought have been Ruber's hand, spinning the sword to wrench the pike-head away. Leaning heavily on his good arm, Arthur backed away across the table, looking to each side in desperation for something to use to his advantage! Ruber advanced, grinning and cackling, staring down into his previous liege's face with mad, wild eyes.

"I spent years, Arthur, planning this revenge!" he confessed, grinning. "It is only fitting that I have it on you as well as Sir Lionel..." he taunted, deadly quiet with his horrible grin widening, the blade of fey Excalibur pointing directly at Arthur's heart. The mad man continued.

"The old fool could not hold my rise forever. How fitting, that his life prove to be sacrificed in vain, after all." Ruber mocked, before yelling. "PREPARE FOR THE RISE OF A NEW KING!"

"RUBER!" Yelled a voice sharply, causing the man to flinch and look away from his unarmed enemy. "I will not serve a false king!" Kayley echoed her father's final words, yanking with all her might on a scaffold rope, causing it to swing forward...taking her with it. She clung with all her might, trying not to scream as she plummeted—but the scaffolding held, and the thick beam swung forward, knocking Ruber off his feet and backwards through the ground-level window. Kayley was flung with him, managing somehow to roll with the hard landing, pained but mostly uninjured. Her head rang with the impact, but she wasn't dizzy like after her blow to the head that first night, fleeing from the wicked man before her.

Shocked and disturbed by the display and the stranger, with her familiar words, Arthur struggled up, stumbling after the two, through the broken window and into the courtyard sheltered by the Keep. He was startled yet again as a travel-worn man with a staff, who was clutching his side, passed him on quiet feet, running directly for the screaming madman and the slight woman in the courtyard.

Seemingly fearless, the man ran, swinging his staff in a desperate strike as Ruber yelled, aiming a blow for the woman. Noticing the attack, Ruber crouched and spun, changing directions and slicing through the staff. The fearless man overbalanced and fell, clutching desperately around on the ground, his staff in pieces. Why doesn't he at least retrieve the pieces, or otherwise flee?! Arthur wondered, watching his strange grabbing.

"Foolish scavenger...did you really think a blind man could best me? He who commands gryphons and melds with the mighty Excalibur?!" Ruber demanded, enraged. "What strength have you now, without even your sad little stick to help you play at glory?" he mocked, grabbing the man by the hair and yanking, snapping his neck back. Kayley gasped, but held back further cries, furious on Garrett's behalf but unable to stop the merciless taunting.

He was flung back toward her, head banging against the stone behind her with a sharp crack! Kayley crouched, pulling him up, and he stood, clutching her shoulders for support, swaying on his feet. Kayley's stomach dropped. Without his vision, he was at an even steeper disadvantage without his balance. Then she suddenly realized against which stone they were leaning.

"Hold your ground..." she prompted softly, clutching his arms firmly. Garrett blinked in recognition, setting his jaw, and turned his face toward where he knew Ruber must be advancing, ears ringing and world spinning despite its darkness. He did not see any way for them to live...but perhaps the king would, if he had fled when they provided this distraction. It would be best for the whole kingdom, if he had. "NOW!" Kayley yelled, shoving him away from her and rolling away in the opposite direction herself.

The rock, which had appeared solid, parted like butter, sealing the sword within. Ruber was confused and startled at first, then screamed in rage...and then in agony, as burning fire consumed the sword hilt, forcibly breaking the bonds between flesh and steel. He shrieked—a horrible, raw, mad cry—and yelled for the creature he had enslaved.

"KILL THEM! COME TO ME, GRYPHON, AND KILL THEM!" he screeched furiously, before he was screaming again. The sickening stench of burning flesh met Kayley's nose. The repeated falls and hard landings, not to mention lack of food, water, and sleep, were building. Her eyes were harder to focus, and her head was throbbing. The uncomfortable ill sensations, combined with the horrible, charred odor, made her feel as though she may be sick.

The gryphon swooped down toward the forced master binding the creature, giving a terrible roar...but as he neared, the hilt finally separated from Ruber's remaining arm, causing a small spray of blood before the unholy fires cauterized the wound, which was suddenly sprouting a small, lengthening stump.

...for the gryphon, though, a few drops were all that was needed. The bare couple that touched its flesh seemed a lightning strike of magic and power to the beast, as the gryphon felt magic and glorious freedom returning! It roared triumphantly—and without further warning, snapped off the evil man's head, cutting off his cries mid-scream. It was a sickening likeness to a bird swallowing a worm, in Kayley's mind, as the creature gulped down its prize before releasing another victorious roar.

Consumed still by the powerful magical flames, the villain's body burned and disappeared without a trace as a ring of bright, white-hot magic exploded outward from the stone. Kayley could hear screams and terror outside the sheltered courtyard, and was almost shaken from her feet, crouching to keep her balance, unsure what might have occurred in the rest of the town from the blast. In a moment, it had passed, and Kayley's eyes settled on the hermit, clutching his side on the ground.

"Goodman Garrett!" she cried, alarmed. "Your wound—is it reopened?!"

"Worry not, Noblewoman...there is no damage here that forest leaves will not fix quickly." he insisted, turning toward her voice as she scrambled toward him to assist the man—but the king reached the hermit, first. Arthur had hurried toward them from where he had stood, helplessly watching in his wounded state, but unwilling to abandon those who would give their lives for him. He extended his own hand to Garrett.

"Goodman, reach forward, and take my left hand." Instructed the king, Garrett's eyes widened—he recognized that voice, from years of straining to hear it, of straining to see its owner, when the king would give addresses to the people of the town. He obeyed immediately, despite his shock at being honored enough to be invited to touch the King! As soon as he had righted himself, he quickly lowered himself back down into a kneel. From years ago, Sir Lionel's voice echoed through his mind, whispering, Kneel before the altar and before your king. Not before me. While he had dreamed of such a day for years, Garrett had never—surely not in many years, at least—truly expected such an honor would ever come to pass. Not for him.

"Y-Your Majesty!" Kayley stammered, hating herself for the slip of her tongue—but her whole body was shaking with exertion and exhaustion. She forced herself down low into her deepest, most formal curtsy, holding herself there without moving despite her trembling limbs.

"Rise, Sir Lionel's Daughter." King Arthur intoned formally, and she obeyed gratefully.

"Sire, I shame myself and dishonor you, to present myself, and in such a state!" she fretted, the strange upset flooding her that her first introduction to the king should be in such circumstances. To her surprise and horror, the king laughed—just a few, warm-sounding chuckles.

"You save my life, risking your own—and then fret over your toilette while doing so." he pointed out the futility of the worry. "Fear not, Sir Lionel's daughter...be you dressed in rags or fine robes, today you have proven yourself truly your father's heir."