Disclaimer: I own nothing in this marvelous universe; it all belongs to BBC Merlin.
Author's Note: So, apparently my muse has decided that this is too good a story to confine to just 16 chapters ::face-palm::. As of right now, the count comes in at 23, AT LEAST. Seriously, I did not anticipate writing another Keeping the Faith (Narnia fic) length fic. But considering my original fiction is probably going to come in at around 30 chapters, I suppose this isn't so bad ::sweat-drop::. Believe me, I am checking and re-checking, reading and re-reading to make sure everything I add to this story is necessary and advances either (a) the overarching story, (b) furthers Arthur's and Merlin's relationship, or (c) evolves their characters—AND I am having a blast while doing it :). I really hope you enjoy this chapter (as I did)—I completely did NOT anticipate the direction it went in. Enjoy!
Reviewers: All 317 of you, thank you!
Rating: T/M
Summary: Three years have passed since Merlin's partial reveal of his magic. On the eve of their assault on Helios and Morgana's forces, Emrys must finally reveal himself in full. Quite without his knowing, it alters the entire course of Camelot's future—as well as his own, with the Once and Future King…[Ambiguous Relationship (Merlin/Arthur)]
"Speech"
Personal Thoughts/Memories (Italics)
.:A Man's Measure:.
By Sentimental Star
VIII: The King's Grace (Part 13)
Already used to sharing their sleeping space prior to their arrival at the garrison, there had been no talk, last night, of separate bedrolls. Therefore, when Arthur woke early the following morning, it was to Merlin's groan and the shift of his best friend's body in his arms.
"Bors," complained softly, "leave off, will you? It's not even half-past the sixth hour of morn!"
Gravel shifted nearby, and a booted foot came into view, not-so-lightly nudging the warlock's shoulder where it pressed against Arthur's. A faint snort accompanied their knight's response, "We should have been sparring last night, my Lord. So if you would be so kind as to get up…"
Another groan, but Merlin complied, his warmth leaving Arthur's front as he slowly sat up, grumbling under his breath about the early hour.
When a half-asleep Arthur attempted to move to accommodate him, Merlin immediately bent over and hushed him, pressing the king gently back in place against the thick leather of the bedroll, "Shh, sleep a little longer, Arthur. I'll see you at morning meal."
Arthur grunted something unintelligible that Merlin must have taken as affirmation, because the warlock eased out from underneath their shared blanket and spread its wool more fully over his shoulders.
Arthur's eyes, however, had flickered open by now—though Merlin seemed not to notice. He watched as his best friend shimmied into his hauberk and lady hawk jerkin, before the warlock scooped up his sheathed daggers on their belt and stood to follow Bors into the surrounding forest.
By that point, Arthur had woken enough to notice Bors's set jaw and darkened countenance. Alarmed by how much it resembled the ambivalent man Bors had once been, while Boris was still alive, Arthur waited until both men had left the clearing, before swiftly sitting up and yanking on his hauberk. His tabard and cloak went on over that, along with Excalibur on its belt.
Within moments he had followed his best friend, leaving the garrison behind him.
IOIOIOIOIOI
Bors and Merlin had already begun sparring by the time Arthur found them. Sticking to the shadows on the edge of the glade, he merely observed at first, watching as they limbered up by trading easy blows, and feeling more than a little foolish about his overreaction.
No evidence existed that this was anything other than a routine sparring match. But as he watched, the pace of their mock-duel grew increasingly more frenetic: Bors hit a little too hard, his blade came a little too close…
And before Arthur fully realized it, blow after blow began raining down on Merlin. Bors held nothing back—magic, weapons, physical attacks, magic and weapons…he used them all, pushing Merlin to his very limits.
(To Arthur, who knew those limits exceedingly well, it was more than a little alarming.)
The final straw came when Bors blasted the ground at Merlin's feet with a concussive wave of magic that sent the warlock flying backwards into a nearby tree.
Merlin hissed, his entire body stiffening from head to toe as his back scraped roughly against the bark and he slid down to the ground, his daggers landing in the dirt as he lost his grip on their hilts.
Brutally reminded that barely 72 hours had passed since they confronted Agravaine, Arthur growled and threw himself forward, out from underneath the cover of the trees.
Apparently, Bors did not realize just how badly Merlin had been injured—if he had even really known at all. He froze for a tenth of a second in an attack stance, eyes widening, before he scowled and slammed Merlin back towards the center of the clearing with his arm.
Following it up with a hail of fire, the knight raised his sword in attempt to strike Merlin, but Arthur was already moving.
Lunging forward, he collided with his best friend, tucking them both into a protective roll. Such was their momentum that they finally rolled to a stop some 15 feet from Bors. Flinging his cloak up over their heads, he blocked the flames from landing and scorching flesh.
Merlin, who had landed beneath him, stared up at Arthur, unequivocally stunned.
But the king did not give his warlock (or himself) time to register that they were pressed together top to toe. Lurching to his feet, he spun around, Excalibur singing through the air he pulled it from its sheath.
The clash of his sword against Bors's rang out in the clearing.
IOIOIOIOIOI
The knight barely gave him a chance to recoup. Their blades screeched against each other as Bors whirled away and lashed out at the back of Arthur's knees with his boot.
Alert to this, since it was a favorite move of Merlin's, Arthur ducked aside and spun to slice Excalibur down at the older man's side.
Bors's eyes flashed silver and with a gesture of his hand he froze Arthur's blade mere seconds from impacting his flesh. A twist of his wrist and, to Arthur's shock, Excalibur was wrenched out of his grasp and sent pinwheeling towards the outer edge of the clearing.
It never made it that far.
Mid-flight it jerked to a halt, suddenly awash with gold, then reversed direction rapidly and spun back towards Arthur.
Stunned, Arthur ducked it, then reached a hand up to snatch its hilt out of mid-air. It thumped into his palm and settled there, just in enough time for him to swivel around and block an incoming blow aimed at his head from Bors.
The knight's sword was met by three blades, for Merlin had finally rejoined the melee, his eyes a searing gold.
IOIOIOIOIOI
Arthur forgot to breathe a moment, utterly distracted by their glow and its implications. Bors pressed his advantage (and Arthur's distraction), eyes glowing silver as his magic unleashed a blast of air that sent Merlin and Arthur tumbling backwards.
Lunging after Arthur, who was closer, he brought his sword whistling down at the king's head. Rolling away to avoid it, Arthur sprang to his feet and struck out at Bors's neck.
The knight blocked the backhanded strike, locking their swords together. He went to kick out at the king, but Merlin swiftly interceded, catching the man's booted foot and twisting it, so that Bors landed on the ground.
Stunned and winded, the older man lay still a moment, but Merlin was panting beside Arthur, clutching at his ribs and unable to follow up after landing badly on the ground. Alarmed, Arthur turned to him, forgetting that the knight had magic and was therefore still dangerous.
He barely had time to process Merlin's reaction before his best friend's eyes went wide and he tossed himself forward, knocking Arthur into the dirt. The rocks Bors had magicked to pelt them slammed into the ground around their heads, kicking up clods of soil, and Arthur was the one on the bottom now, very aware of all the places their bodies touched.
Before he could properly panic, Bors clambered to his feet and bore down on the two of them with grim intent.
"Look out!" it was the first Arthur had spoken since intervening and he did not have time to be gentle.
Tossing Merlin off him, he rolled them over and pressed down with his full weight, seeking to prevent Bors's blade from making any sort of contact with his best friend.
Merlin hissed, clearly in pain, but one of his palms thrust up from underneath the king's arm to block the knight's sword with a flash of gold, despite Arthur's best efforts to prevent it.
Bors flew backwards and crashed to the ground some distance away, unable to rise.
IOIOIOIOIOI
It took a few long seconds for Arthur's heartbeat to finally slow down. It still had not stopped its pounding when he gingerly pushed himself off Merlin.
"Are you all right?" he breathed.
They were both panting, faces close together, and Merlin was trembling, although whether from exertion, adrenaline, or something else entirely, Arthur did not know.
Eyes full of disbelief, he gazed up at Arthur. When he continued to say nothing, merely stare, the king grew worried.
"Merlin…?" he touched his best friend's cheek, pushing himself up so that his knees were planted on either side of Merlin's hips.
His touch seemed to register with Merlin, because abruptly, the warlock knocked his head back against the ground…and started cracking up.
Arthur's jaw slowly unhinged, "Merlin?" He wondered if his best friend had gone quite mad.
Merlin continued laughing, apparently unable to help himself, "I shouldn't be surprised. I really, really shouldn't…"
Arthur pouted, realizing that something else entirely was going on and keenly aware he was practically sitting in Merlin's lap.
"…You absolute clot pole," Merlin finally gasped out, blue eyes dancing as they gazed up at him.
Arthur glanced away, sitting back on Merlin's legs, and crossing his arms over his chest with a huff as embarrassment flooded his face with heat.
Merlin snorted, then chuckled, still not able to completely quell his mirth, before reaching out to grasp Arthur's face between his hands.
"I was never in any danger," he murmured warmly, turning Arthur's face towards him.
Startled, Arthur jerked his head up, "What?" he breathed.
Merlin's eyes crinkled at their corners as he grinned and stroked a thumb against Arthur's cheek. However, before he could tease Arthur any further, Bors groaned and started to stir.
IOIOIOIOIOI
Arthur swung his head towards the sound. When he saw Kay helping Bors sit up, his entire countenance darkened and he wrapped his fingers around Excalibur's hilt.
Snatching up the blade, he lunged to his feet before a startled Merlin could stop him and stalked over to the two men.
"Stand aside," he snarled at Kay, just as Bors's eyes blinked open.
Before a stunned Kay could react, a small explosion against his back stopped him.
"Arthur, wait-!" Merlin's arms wrapped around his middle, effectively restraining him
"Merlin," he growled, "what the hell are you doing?"
"Stopping you from doing something you'll regret! He wasn't attacking me, Arthur-!"
"Then what was he doing, Merlin?"
"He was testing me-!"
"Testing you-!"
"Actually," the mild interjection came from Leon, who had also joined them and leaned against a nearby tree, "I believe he may have been testing you both. Is that not true, my friend?"
Arthur recognized his Head Knight's tone as one the man had often used on Uther, when his father was in a temper. However, his eyes were sharp as they landed on Bors and, as he left the tree to help Kay sit the other knight up, his hand was on his own sword's hilt.
Bors winced and sat up awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck, "That was the idea—" he grumbled. His other arm wrapped protectively around his ribs. "I received far more than I bargained for."
Before Arthur could blink, Merlin's warmth left his back and his beloved friend dodged around him to kneel beside Bors. A spread hand and murmured spell, then gold flashed in their clearing, enveloping the older man.
Once the gold receded, Merlin sat back on his heels with a winded sigh. Bors glanced at him sharply.
"You did not tell me you were wounded," he accused, but the knight's breath came easier.
"Neither did you," Merlin retorted shortly, shoving up the chain mail on the older man's right arm to reveal a blood-stained gambeson. Arthur recalled, belatedly, that Bors had favored his left arm during the combat.
The knight flushed, clasping his arm with his hand, "There were others who needed tending to more. I am fine now, my Lord."
Arthur sighed, leaning down to scoop up Merlin's abandoned daggers from the ground as most of his tension fled.
"You knew better," he stated softly, kneeling beside Merlin and handing them to the warlock as he spoke with Bors.
Bors flushed, still clutching his arm, "There are quite a few things I should have known better, Sire, and I ask that you forgive me for making assumptions."
He's speaking of Merlin's magic.
Arthur released a long, low breath. They probably should not have kept his knowledge of Merlin's magic a secret, at least not from this knight, who was overprotective of the warlock on a good day.
However, before he could respond, Kay snorted, reminding Arthur that they were not alone, "Like not attempting what can be construed as treason, maybe, when Arthur is nearby?"
Bors flushed again. "Merlin knew what I was doing," he defended weakly.
"But Arthur did not, which is the entire point—"
With a sigh, Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose and tried to ignore the flush that colored his own cheeks.
Merlin chuckled, inviting a glare from Arthur as his eyes flickered open. He spoke to Merlin, voice soft and sharp, "You should not have dueled before you were fully healed. We have a battle in less than 14 hours, Merlin. Tell me things like this—!"
Quite abruptly, he cut himself off, hearing in his own words an echo of Guinevere's two mornings ago.
He had never understood her more starkly than he did now.
Merlin seemed to realize that, for he gave a lopsided smile and reached out to touch Arthur.
"…Sorry," he murmured, shifting his hand to curl around Arthur's cheek.
Arthur blew out a troubled breath and slid his own up to grasp it, turning his face into Merlin's palm.
They sat that way a moment, before Leon cleared his throat, startling Arthur—and Merlin—who stiffened, glancing up with flush high in their cheeks.
Their Head Knight's grimace was apologetic, "Forgive me, my Lords…but we have a bit of a situation..."
"A situation…?" Arthur let Merlin's hand slip out of his own and stood, offering him a hand up. "What do you mean, Leon?"
Leon grimaced again and Kay offered dryly, helping Bors to his feet, "…Merlin did level half the clearing."
Sure enough, when Arthur and Merlin glanced up, at least half a dozen trees lay scattered and uprooted around them. Several early risers were already making their way to the top of the rise from the garrison—Gwen, Isolde, and Tristan among them. And on the opposite side of the clearing, where the garrison's lands gave way to lush forest, Kilgharrah surveyed the scene with interest, his blue-eyed and white-skinned companion chirping away in wonder where she sat on his head.
Merlin turned bright red. "…I think we have some explaining to do, Arthur," he murmured.
IOIOIOIOIOI
Under normal circumstances it might even have been funny. However, Merlin's apparent lack of control spoke (to Arthur at least) of how slowly he was still healing.
"…To be fair," the warlock pointed out, after all concerned parties had been reassured and they had returned to the garrison to review their plan of attack, "I did not expect Bors to also involve you. It…wasn't a terribly pleasant surprise. I don't react well when I think you are in danger, Arthur."
Arthur certainly knew that. But it did not stop him from glancing away, cheeks just as red as Merlin's.
Bors snorted, flattening one of the maps of Camelot's curtain wall that lay scattered across the table in front of them.
"You should have," he stated, "Morgana and Helios will certainly not hesitate to use you against him—nor him against you, for that matter."
Arthur bristled, fully aware of that.
Across from them, Leon nodded in agreement, despite Arthur's displeasure. He shrugged under Arthur's glare, "If your display this morning has proved anything, Sire, it is that we do not want to separate you and Merlin. Alone, you are formidable opponents. Together…" he trailed off, but the implication was clear.
…Together they had done something amazing. For all the terror and anger Arthur felt this morning, he had never been more comfortable heading into a pitched battle with the odds stacked against him.
This was what he had hoped for, when he first started training Merlin all those years ago. It was so much more than he could ever have imagined.
At the far end of the table, Kilgharrah cleared his throat.
Arthur started and, much to his surprise, found himself blushing, belatedly realizing that his gaze had drifted to Merlin where the warlock poured over a map of Camelot's Keep, Aithusa perched on his shoulders.
Alerted to the king's attention by his involuntary movement, Merlin glanced up at him, a tiny smile on his lips. Arthur flushed, and averted his eyes, even though they had been trading small glances like this all morning.
On his other side, Kay snorted, and muttered under his breath, "That is, if they can keep their attention on the mission itself half the time."
Arthur, of course, heard him, and leveled his childhood friend with a glare, cheeks burning. Kay, it appeared, knew exactly what was going on, even if Merlin himself was oblivious to it.
"Ahem," Kilgharrah cleared his throat pointedly and this time, Kay flushed. "As I was going to say…" Kay flushed even darker. Mollified, Arthur turned his attention to the Great Dragon, "In light of that, perhaps we should consider a slightly different 'pincer move,' as your Head Knight calls it," the great reptile nodded regally to Leon, "when the king storms the Keep…"
IOIOIOIOIOI
In the end, it was worked out that Merlin's and Arthur's groups would meet up in front of the Council Chamber, thereby preventing Morgana from making any hasty retreats. From there, they would break into the Chamber and do their best to prevent any guards she and Helios might have about from intervening.
"Tristan and Isolde, if they are willing—and maybe Gwen—would be ideal for that," Merlin had pointed out, once they came to that decision.
Arthur had hummed in agreement, slightly distracted by the sight of Aithusa—who had yet to leave Merlin's shoulders—contently chewing on the warlock's hair, and though Leon had agreed, he also looked rather worried at the prospect of putting Gwen in danger.
Their Head Knight would have to learn—as Arthur had—that Gwen, at least, would not acquiesce quietly to staying behind.
Sighing, he pinched the bridge of his nose, striving to bring his attention back to the present…just as Merlin's fingers lightly flicked his cheek.
"…Were you even listening, Arthur?" the warlock demanded.
Startled, Arthur scowled at Merlin, "What?"
Merlin rolled his eyes, "I said…" emphasizing the word, "that it may be necessary for me to be there anyway…"
Right, they were discussing the plans for storming the Keep, the others having left only moments ago to prepare for the harrowing night ahead.
He exhaled, "Why do you say that?"
"We have no idea what type of wards Morgana may have in place," Merlin rationalized, "I may need to crash them."
"And what if they are intent wards?" Arthur demanded tightly, disliking the reminder that Merlin was the only one capable of facing Morgana.
"They won't be," stated with surety, as Merlin began rolling the maps up, "her magic is unstable. She won't be able to sustain them."
Unspoken was the fact that Merlin's magic could; it did nothing to reassure Arthur.
"Do you know that for a fact?"
Merlin gave him a crooked smile, moving to collect the battle markers left strewn across the table. However, before he could tease Arthur about his obvious worry, Kilgharrah spoke up, lumbering over to join them, "Wards—be they intent wards or otherwise—will not be a problem. Dragons can eviscerate them."
Arthur glanced over at Aithusa when she trilled in agreement from Merlin's shoulders, "Even young ones?"
Kilgharrah smirked, "Especially young ones. It is a particular talent of theirs. Dratted annoying if you ask me," grumbled under his breath.
Merlin smothered a laugh as he stacked the maps and battle markers in their containers, smiling up at Arthur when the king came over to help him, "Gotten into your hoard, has she?"
Kilgharrah harrumphed but did not deny it.
Merlin snorted, reaching up to run a finger along the dragon kit's spine, "Nicely done, Aithusa."
Aithusa's responding trill was distinctly smug.
Surprised, Arthur barked out a laugh of his own, shutting the last map's case and deeply entertained by the baby's personality. It garnered Aithusa's attention, who twisted around on Merlin's shoulders to regard him curiously, head cocked to the side. Despite himself, Arthur could not help but give her a small smile, his initial wariness starting to melt away.
Kilgharrah's tail came up to gently thump Merlin across the backside of the warlock's head: "Do not encourage her," the Great Dragon remarked dryly.
Merlin grinned, rubbing it, "Come now, Kilgharrah, I know you're secretly proud of her."
While Aithusa chirped and preened, Kilgharrah rolled his eyes, "I will admit to no such thing."
Chuckling, Merlin reached up to pluck Aithusa off his shoulders. Arthur watched with well-hidden awe as his best friend gently handled the baby, despite the warbling protest his actions elicited.
"We talked about this," the warlock reminded her, gathering the kit into his arms. "You need to stay with Kilgharrah. He knows what is best for you and can protect you in ways I can't right now."
Aithusa gave a plaintive mewl but rubbed her small snout against Merlin's nose in understanding.
Merlin chuckled, if a bit thickly, letting her perch on his hands, before she flapped off—a bit clumsily—to land on Kilgharrah's great snout with a plop. She gave a sheepish chirp, peering up at him.
The older dragon snorted, tossing his head to flip her up and onto the top of it, "Come, young one, dinner time for you."
At the renewed excitement of Aithusa's warbles, Merlin chuckled again and stepped forward, lightly rubbing Kilgharrah's snout, before bumping his forehead against the dragon's.
"Thank you, Kilgharrah," he murmured, sincerely.
Arthur followed him, quietly placing his arm around his beloved friend's shoulders as he bowed and expressed his own gratitude: "I know you do not have any interest in debts, Kilgharrah," he murmured, straightening up. "But truly…I am indebted to you. However I can repay you…know that I will."
Kilgharrah huffed, more than a little embarrassed, but he nudged both Merlin and Arthur in their turn, "Keep my Dragonlord safe, Arthur Pendragon, that is all I would ask of you."
Gravely, Arthur bowed, a promise made implicit. Kilgharrah flapped his wings and took off, Aithusa squealing in excitement from her location on his head.
"I will see you tonight, Once and Future King!" called down to them as the Great Dragon disappeared into the horizon, swallowed by the afternoon sun. "For Glory and the Golden Age of Camelot!"
TBC
