He made an impression, he could tell that by the looks on their faces. Merlin crept up to stare out from the archway and he watched the same expressions on the faces of the opposition. Morgana shuffled close to him.
"You know, I should be the other side of this, shouldn't I?"
"No," Merlin said. "I don't think such a thing is black and white."
"That's not what the stories say."
Merlin turned to look at her, his eyes serious. "You are the one that pointed out they are just stories and we are not these people to that exact degree; except perhaps me and Arthur."
He watched her debate that, struggling with herself over what she knew, over the fact that her own cousin had turned against her.
"I never liked him," Merlin said. Morgana stared at him. Merlin shrugged. "I didn't. It seemed rude to say anything but there was just something about him that seemed... off. If you see what I mean."
Morgana frowned considering that. "I think if you had said that to me before, I would have disagreed with you. Now, I'm not so sure, and not because this is all happening."
"It's to do with this place," Merlin said looking around warily at the structure that he had built. He had listened to Arthur's tale, of seeing him, as an old man, before he had given that immortality up, to join Arthur, again.
"What you did, here, the other you. All those years ago."
"So it would seem, Morgana," Merlin said steadily. "And again, you doubt we can win."
XxxxxxxxxxxxxX
"You think you can win?" Mordred sneered. Arthur blinked, shifting the sword in his hand.
"Do you think the situation is as simple as winning or losing?" he countered. Arthur himself was starting to think not.
Considering the life he had lived, he had never put much stock in religion and beliefs and a plan. If there was he had got a rather duff role in the whole grand scheme. Now he wasn't so sure, he had a place, something worked out there, in the darkness, unseen by many but it was there. Arthur was part of it, and he knew he was right about why he had died the first time, as he had seen his life spread out before him, when he had placed the crown on his head.
Mordred stepped forward, clearly not interested in any of Arthur's thoughts on the subject. Bringing up the sword Arthur blocked the blow, moving sideways on the causeway to prevent himself from slipping. The movement off-footed Mordred and Arthur saw the opening in his defences. Mordred seemed to realised the same, struggling to right himself. Arthur could have taken advantage but he hesitated, stepping backwards rather than forwards and allowing Mordred the time to recover. It caused him to pause, circling slowly and assessing the situation, eyes narrowing as he studied Arthur.
Arthur busied himself trying to remember what had gone through his head, in the moments that he had worn that crown. It was something he was never going to touch again, that might have been one of old Merlin's hints. He was no longer the King of Albion. Albion didn't exist. Or it did, to them, but it didn't when you looked at the modern world. It was something else, existing beneath it, something that had never gone away, because Arthur had created it.
He recoiled, bringing up Excalibur in response to Mordred. It surprised him, just how he did it, as he knocked his opponents' sword away and the eagerness with which he wanted to step forward and attack. There were two moments when he almost did that, and then paused, coming back to himself calmly, looking down at his arm in shock.
The power of the weapon seemed to vibrate up his arm, trying to tell him what to do. It seemed to be reacting to the fight by itself, but the damn thing probably wanted to protect him. Mordred jumped forward again, using Arthur's preoccupation to his advantage. Since he had been so lost in his thoughts he had to rely on instinct and the sword moved for him, blocking each blow. The only thing Arthur wanted to do was restraint it, that feeling, the moment he saw an opening that he could take advantage of.
He was fine until he stepped back onto a loose rock, he went backwards and fell heavily. Crashing down he winced as something scraped against his left hand, stabbing into the glove. His hand jerked upwards as a jolt ran though his hand. He scrabbled to his feet, staring at his hand and the small hole in the leather glove. He could feel the trickle of blood from the palm of his hand, the nerves tingling with pain, and what Arthur thought was something else. Pain, in most forms, was a very known quantity for him. He had spent years being abused, and had learnt to deal with it. That was how he knew something was different, the tingling had nothing to do with physical pain, something else was happening.
"Arthur!"
Merlin's voice snapped him out of his contemplation. It couldn't have been more than a few seconds but Mordred was on him again. Arthur parried, defending himself against Mordred, preventing the other, more experienced, fighter from finding an opening. Beyond that he wasn't sure what to do, his mind worked remotely from his body. He had done that for years, taking his mind away from the physical aspects of reality. There were times that was so necessary that he could do it easily. He clashed against Mordred's sword and reaching up a hand pushed the youth away from him sending him staggering down the causeway. Mordred staggered, flailing, the sun catching on the sword blade. Arthur's eyes locked on the section of metal missing from the blade.
His mind flashed with a memory, he had stabbed Mordred before, in retaliation. A piece of Mordred's sword had lodged in him, he hadn't bled as heavily on the battle field. Then Merlin had reached him, trying to heal him. Arthur frowned, he tried to work that out. His instinct told him that bleeding was not a good thing, and not just because he'd probably die from it.
"Right," he murmured to himself as Mordred straightened up, looking furious, and confused. Again he had been vulnerable and again Arthur had not taken advantage. To them, to all of them, the situation seemed like a life and death scenario. Arthur couldn't view it like that, maybe Merlin hadn't. What the hell had that old git been trying to tell him?
Mordred ran at him again and Arthur steadied his feet. He didn't back-peddle, nor did he move to meet his opponent, he just stood there, firm, still, and feeling oddly calm. Again the sounds of their swords clashing resonated through the air and again Arthur merely defended.
"What is he doing?" Uther snapped. "He's had more than one opening to enable him to finish this off."
On the other side of the bank Cenred voiced a very similar opinion. Morgause glared at him.
"Be silent!"
Cenred frowned at her, although Morgause paid him no attention, her eyes were fixed firmly on the action in front of them. Arthur staggered as Mordred delivered a hard blow, sending ripples of pain up Arthur's arm. He stepped back, sliding on the rocks and only just ducking away as Mordred followed up, lunging at him. Arthur shifted again and then blinked, shaking his head as his mind suddenly seemed to fill with fog. He stumbled back, and blinked to clear his mind.
"Arthur!" Merlin shouted the warning and then raised his hand in an attempt to deflect Mordred. Arthur rolled away as he realised Mordred was seconds away from slicing into him. Merlin's eyes rolled in his head and he sagged down at the magical backlash. Arthur stumbled to his knees.
"Merlin!"
Gwaine caught him before he could fall, but Merlin's head whipped to the side, staring off towards the edge of the lake and he glared at the three hooded figures grouped there. Arthur frowned as he saw the same thing, having watched Merlin's stumble and turn his head.
"What the hell?" Arthur murmured.
"The Disir," Mordred announced gleefully. "They judged you, and you died. They'll judge you now."
Arthur looked up, then back to the three people standing on the edge of the lake. He felt another wave through his mind and he tried to fight it off.
"Arthur!" he heard Merlin's voice call his name again. Arthur frowned as he looked down into the lake. His vision was still a little blurred but the swirl of water was most definitely real. Arthur rose up, and Mordred recoiled as the figure launched up from out of the water. For a moment she just shimmered, but then Arthur caught sight of dark brown hair, and a girl's face before the water spread behind her into wings. She gave a shriek of anger, her body lurching forward, muscles rippling as she morphed into a sleek dark cat. Arthur blinked as he stared.
"The Bastet," he murmured to himself. He watched her crash back into the lake, sending a wave across the water. It struck the far bank, splashing up towards the Disir causing them to back off. Another wave of water surged up the causeway, Mordred stepped back to avoid the wash. Arthur didn't need to move.
For a moment it froze the action. Arthur watched the water calm again as she disappeared and the three figures on the bank faded away into the shadows. Arthur could still see them but their movement seemed to hint that they had no intention of taking on the Lady Of The Lake.
Arthur paused, still thinking, his mind frantically planning. He flexed his hand again, the Disir had appeared after he had bled onto the ground.
If he started to bleed, on the sacred ground of Avalon, then something would open up, and it wouldn't be good for the world. Arthur guessed it wouldn't be much good for him either. The only problem was it made him rather reluctant to stab Mordred, because that presumably had the same reaction. But then again, they had both been stabbed the last time, and the world remained in situ, so something must have gone right. He didn't think, on that subject, there was any reasoning with Mordred. Arthur had to stop this fight without shedding any blood.
Mordred dived in to attack again, with Arthur again trying to fend him off, he took a step back, loose stones shifting under his feet and Arthur fell backwards, his back scraping against the rock of the causeway. Somewhere in the back of his mind he registered the shouts of horror from the island and he felt a swirl of air, realising how close to the edge he was. Mordred stepped over him, lifting his sword. Arthur knew he had seconds to calculate the best way to go.
In the end he did the only thing that came to mind. When he considered that moment in the future, with foresight, he wondered if the hint of what he needed to do had already been put there, by Merlin dunking him in the water to retrieve the sword. If he couldn't spill blood then he had to think of something else, and it seemed obvious.
As Mordred drew back his sword Arthur kicked out, off-balancing the other man, and sending him pitching forward. His sword flew from his hands, skittering across the stones before dropping over the side into the water. A moment later Mordred followed crashing face down, the momentum made him roll and limbs flailing he went over the side. Arthur heard a splash, which was the moment it occurred to him that Mordred was wearing the same heavy style of armour that he was.
Arthur instinctively rolled, putting his head over the edge of the causeway. Mordred hung onto a small outcrop, desperately trying to hoist himself up. Arthur wriggled further over and held his hand out.
"Grab on."
Mordred looked up with wide eyes, staring at the hand in surprise. He stared at Arthur's face in shock.
"Don't be stupid, just grab on!" Arthur ordered him, making sure his other hand was carefully holding onto the side, the last thing he needed was to be dragged in as well. For a few more seconds Mordred hesitated, until the hand clinging to the side slipped. He struggled to regain purchase and threw his other hand up to Arthur. Arthur managed to grab on, and then much to his relief he felt someone latch onto his armour, pulling him back slightly, so he could release his other hand in an attempt to grab Mordred.
"Oh crap! No!" he yelled at the water as Mordred's eyes widened, and the Lady Of The Lake made her presence felt again. The water surged up, so violently that it splashed Arthur in the face; he spluttered in shock and felt his grip slip. Reaching down he blindly struggled to regain a hold on the flailing youth but whoever had hold of him clearly had no intention of Arthur risking himself more than he already was. Mordred's hand slipped away from him and Arthur felt himself hauled up the bank, dragged to safety. Percival and Leon both roughly manhandled him up, so he ended up rather ungracefully sprawled in both of their laps. Gwaine, on all fours, peered over the edge, with Merlin stood beside him watching with some satisfaction. Arthur turned his head to look across into the forest, but the Disir had already melted into the shadows.
"No!" Morgause screamed from across the causeway, stepping forwards.
Merlin tensed, raising his hands ready for whatever she intended to do.
"I wouldn't bother," Arthur said, coughing slightly as he swallowed some water. He had already seen the man behind Morgause and he knew Cenred well enough.
He heard several gasps of surprise but Arthur knew, in the end, he had engineered what happened. Cenred always carried a knife and he knew how to use it. Without preamble he grabbed Morgause by the chin, hauled her back and slit her throat open. Arthur grimaced while the others around him were reaching for their guns, even Gwen had somehow been armed. However, Cenred merely let the bleeding corpse drop and let his gaze drift to Arthur. One inclination of his head meant everything. Arthur nodded and with that Cenred turned to leave. The men in the hills would do the same. Morgause had sought out the same man, and the same army, and Arthur could argue that Cenred already knew what the blonde woman was capable of, but Arthur had told him what had been done centuries ago.
"Oh my God!" Morgana said, stepping forward.
"Wait a minute!" Arthur snapped. Blood had been spilled, it wasn't as significant as his or Mordred's but something was likely to happen.
"What is that?" Merlin asked.
"I felt it when I cut my hand through the glove. Something to do with blood, this could cause something, but she's not quite on the same level. Is there anything we can do with the energy that is released."
"Something big?" Gwaine asked as the ground by Morgause started to shake.
"Really big?" Lancelot asked.
"Merlin, think of something. What needs a lot of power?" Arthur asked, his mind struggling to think of something, he had it in his mind, he just for a moment couldn't find it.
"Erm...?"
"World peace?" Percival said.
"Don't be silly," Arthur said. "Big spell, here and now what can we do."
"What's wrong with world peace?"
"Kind of spread out, it might only go so far and could end up with local people really, really liking each other," Merlin said.
"What happens if this just kind of bursts?" Arthur asked.
"A lot of magic in the world, uncontrolled," Morgana said. "We need something that needs power, that means a huge sacrifice."
"Like... like making someone pregnant, giving a life." Arthur said. He spoke slowly. "Or healing someone, saving their life."
"We could try that sort of spell Arthur," Morgana said, catching on. "But again the spread of it wouldn't work."
"It might, if we heal someone relevant first. You're not stupid Merlin," Arthur said. "You just often seem to miss the point of things. Call the dragon."
"How can she carry the spell?"
"She's not carrying it you idiot, she's the recipient. She's damaged and can't heal herself. Use this magic, she's a creature of it, if there is any left over then she can probably store it, or disperse it safely. Thank you Boris!" Arthur yelled. The wyvern stood on the causeway his head in the air, neck extended bellowing his heart out.
"Merlin! Dragon! Now! Idiot!"
Arthur yelled as he slowly got to his feet, scrabbling off Percival and Leon. He saw Merlin's face convulse with anger, which was down to the last word, Merlin didn't like being called an idiot, although he probably had no idea why. Merlin roared out, calling Aithusa and Arthur issued enough instructions to get the dragon to land; and Arthur thought that nature might just have taken it's course, with steroids on top.
The dragon convulsed, dropping heavily and struggling for breath. She shifted her wings upwards to help her breathe and they saw them slowly expand, spreading outwards the skin and tendons that made the limbs up strengthened and she stretched out, flexing her back and almost purring with contentment, and then she started to grow.
"Do dragon's get growth spurts?" Gwaine asked.
"They do now," Arthur told him, watching as the white dragon stretched and seemed to move comfortably into what seemed to be double her original side.
"I'm missing something!" Merlin snapped eyes glowing, Morgana's did the same, her hand latched tightly with Merlin's.
"As you do," Arthur said.
Merlin grasped the last little piece of magic, not daring to lose it as he added one last thing.
"Speak."
Aithusa reared back, coughed, producing a thick band of smoke, she shook her head and dropped it dramatically.
"My Lord."
"Cool," Gwaine said. Aithusa dropped her head further, putting it to rest by Arthur's foot.
"Your Majesty."
"Stop doing that," Arthur said.
The dragon's head came up immediately, looking around, flexing the huge wings and shifting on all four feet, stretching and swinging her tail. Then the dragon giggled.
"Better?" Arthur asked.
"Better," Aithusa confirmed. The wings beat in the air, the body flexed and the dragon took off.
"Are you still holding magic?" Merlin asked.
"Nothing I can't handle."
"Put it somewhere good," Morgana said.
Aithusa turned in the air, inclining her head down to Morgana before lifting up and flying off. Boris launched up into the air, going about six feet up before dropping down and giving a mournful huff.
"So, I'm keeping you," Arthur said. Boris huffed again, this time happily and he trotted over to Arthur sniffing his hand and rubbing his head against him.
"There are bound to be dragon sighting all over the world, I had better warn Gaius," Uther said.
"Could be worse. He doesn't have to bury the body," Arthur said nodding at Morgause.
"Are Cenred's men gone?" Lancelot asked.
"I think the dragon might have helped," Leon mused.
"No, Cenred shifted them out, he was on the losing side and I warned him what happened the last time he allied with Morgause; she killed him. He took this opportunity as time for payback. Even if they won, he would have tried to kill her."
"The army, his kingdom. I remember the story," Morgana said.
"They are just stories, we remember that," Arthur said. "Like you said, we might have the heritage, but that does not make us those people, I think the bad side might have forgot that."
"You never know, they might be the good side, and we're the bad," Gwaine said. "OW!" he added as Percival punched him on the arm.
"We're good," Percival informed him firmly. Gwaine rubbed his now sore arm.
"OK."
