Summary: An unexpected hero tries to rescue Arthur from Morgana's tortures.

Hurt and Comfort in Camelot

PenPatronus

Merlin's Bane

Part 3

Arthur was burning from the inside out. Flame replaced his blood, smoke his breaths. Screams, shrieks, screeches rose in a crescendo of pain. His skin appeared to transform into millions of fireflies that flickered from neon green to white to yellow and back to green. Arthur saw Morgana's grinning face every time his heart beat. With each thump, light erupted from him and flashed across the pitch-black room. He knew he was dying when the flashes went from humming bird fast to a slow blink.

"No, no!" Morgana hissed as she slapped Arthur's cheeks. "Don't you pass out on me, now!" She spit another spell into his skin. The pain didn't lessen but his heartbeats sped up. They were irregular, but fast. The light show across the ceiling hypnotized Arthur but his sister smacked him again. "Repeat after me," she ordered him. Varying shades of green illuminated her bared teeth. "'I don't deserve to be king.' Say it, Arthur! Admit that you have failed Camelot. Your people belong to me. They will kneel – they will obey me, worship me." She leaned across his chest to whisper in his opposite ear. "Say 'I am Nobody.' Say it and I'll kill you quickly. I'll kill you now. Say it, Arthur!"

Arthur could barely feel his lips and doubted that his chimney of a throat still worked. "I…" he whispered, stuttering, sputtering. "I…" A flash of white light. Someone else entered the room – nothing more than a cloaked, featureless figure sneaked up behind Morgana. Arthur wondered if he was hallucinating, if he'd gone mad, if he was already dead. "I am…," he said. The figure shook his or her hands out of a long-sleeved cloak and pointed at Morgana. Arthur heard his own heartbeat. It nearly deafened him.

"Say it!" Morgana clutched his chin in her hand and shook it. Her gold eyes reminded Arthur of a cat. Each and every hair on Arthur's body rose when invisible electricity enveloped him. Morgana froze. She felt it, too.

"I… am… king!" Arthur stated just as the figure impaled Morgana with what looked like a transparent dragon's jaw. The witch howled. Arthur got a mouthful of her black hair when she collapsed onto his chest. Warm blood squirted from her shoulder where the spell-dragon's teeth impaled her. Morgana's eyes turned gold, and then flickered out like candlelight. There was more shock in her face than pain.

Morgana collapsed to her knees and leaned back against the table. The figure revealed itself, then, tearing the cloak off and tossing it aside. Silver light brighter than Arthur's flaming blood filled the room. Warmed it. Arthur wasn't sure who he expected to see but if he had to make a list, this was the last person he'd put on it. "You," he whispered, staring, stunned, at the tall, slim, glowing, naked creature with her wide nose, almond-shaped eyes, pointed chin and a cranium as long and tall as her neck. The creature that Gwaine claimed he owed his life to.

"What the hell are you?" Morgana gasped, sounding more like the fluttery teenager than the adult witch.

The being raised the muscles where her eyebrows would be. "I am what you have been looking for, Morgana Pendragon. I am the Diamair."

"Impossible!" Morgana stood with both hands braced against the table. "The Druids said that the Diamair is knowledge."

"Indeed I am," the being said. "I am all-knowing. That is why I know your name, and I know that Arthur Pendragon will not die this day."

Morgana straightened as her strength returned. "If you know who I am then you know I am not to be trifled with. Leave now and I'll only take Arthur's life instead of both of your lives."

"I am old," the creature said, and her wispy voice betrayed her age, "and not as strong as I once was. But I know spells that the children of men have long forgotten. And I know that you will be defeated, Morgana. Because I know about Emrys."

The witch shrieked and a wave of gold magic collided with the silver. Whatever momentum their spells carried tossed both across the room and out of Arthur's sight. All he could do was lie there and listen to the duel.

Footsteps. The green flames flashing from his body illuminated another cloaked figure approaching. If that creature was the last thing he expected, his servant was definitely the second to last. "Arthur!" Merlin threw off his cloak and leaned over the king. "Oh, God, what did she— Arthur!"

"Merlin." Arthur's lips formed the name but he couldn't seem to say it aloud. On his third try it finally came out. He sounded like a chimneysweep with a head cold. "Merlin? Why… How…?"

"You aren't dead." Merlin unsheathed a dagger and started sawing through the blood-soaked ropes holding down Arthur's wrists. "I can't believe— The Diamair agreed to help me because it knew— Arthur, it was like I was drawn back here. Like a flower."

Merlin made less sense than usual. "A… flower?"

Merlin freed one hand. "Gaius told me that before dawn, even when it can't see the sun, a flower will raise its face towards it. It senses that the sun is there. Its source of life. The flower will follow the sun wherever it goes."

Arthur attempted to stretch his free arm but he barely had the strength to speak. "You 'sensed' that I was still alive…"

Merlin bowed his head. "No. I sensed you. Dead or alive, I didn't know." He blinked the water away before it escaped his eye. "But dead or alive, I had to be by your side."

"That rhymed," Arthur mumbled. He cried out in pain when Merlin wrapped his impaled hand with his neckerchief. "Merlin—" His body seized. The flashes – his heartbeats – slowed down. "Morgana's spell… it's killing me…"

Merlin gently touched Arthur's cheek before he got to work on the other ropes and chains. "I'll get you out of here, Arthur, I promise. I swear—"

Suddenly the crumpled silver body of the Diamair flew over both their heads and crumpled, dead, in the corner. The light disappeared. Its wide eyes stared without seeing.

Six torches lined each wall and at Morgana's word they all erupted with fire. "Merlin?" she gasped, then chuckled and rubbed her hands together. The witch limped and her hair resembled a bird's nest but other than that she'd survived the duel unscathed. "I left Arthur's dead body for you to find. You should be back in Camelot working for another master." She limped towards them, cocky and taking her time. "Just one more fly to swat before I can get back to the fun," she said as she checked her nails and patted down her hair.

Merlin's nostrils flared. The firelight illuminated some unnamed spark in his eyes. He put the dagger in Arthur's hand and whispered, "I thought I lost you. I couldn't bear to lose you again." Merlin took a long breath, the kind you take before diving into deep water. "Whatever happens, Arthur, stay behind me. I'll protect you."

"Merl—"

Merlin leapt onto the table – one boot next to Arthur's stomach, the other beneath his opposite armpit. "I won't let you touch him again, Morgana!" he shouted. Merlin bent down and pressed his hand to Arthur's injured one. The king trembled as the torturous flames seeped out the way they went in. Green, yellow and white light curled into an apple-sized ball in Merlin's palm. He stood, winked at Arthur, grinned at Morgana and then threw the ball at the witch with all his might.

To Be Continued

Don't forget to vote for your 3 favorite "Hurt and Comfort in Camelot" stories in the poll on my profile page!