Disclaimer: I own nothing in this marvelous universe; it all belongs to BBC Merlin.
Author's Note: I am proud of this chapter—the action sequence was SUCH a bear to write! But I loved how it turned out :). I'm hoping the next chapter will turn out just as well! It's interesting to write how Merlin and Arthur handle being separated from each other and gives me lots of room to play around with the tension. This is mainly Merlin's chapter (although Arthur certainly makes an appearance in multiple ways). I think the next one may be mainly Arthur, so we'll see how that turns out :) Just a head's up, we JUST returned to hybrid learning this past week, so I'll most likely only be updating this story once per month for the foreseeable future (unless I have some kind of break). I hope you enjoy it and that it tides you over until the next chapter!
Reviewers: All 322 of you, thank you!
Rating: T/M (canon-typical violence)
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 15)
Five minutes before the bells struck the midnight hour, the Southron sentries changed shift, unaware of the presence infiltrating their ranks. It followed along behind one man as he crossed the threshold between curtain wall and spiral stair, jerking back when it found itself confronted by another, right at the entrance way.
As the two men nodded to one another and began to exchange pleasantries in their native speech, the presence drew back, retreating along the curtain wall and making several broad sweeps as it traversed the worn stones. It hastily noted the number of men stationed along the parapets, the intervals at which they stood, and how they were armed. Observed them observing the surrounding forest, and then withdrew, slightly disheartened.
IOIOIOIOIOI
Merlin snapped back into himself, heaving a sigh, "…Too many, we'd never pass unnoticed. They are alert and heavily armed, and they always have eyes on the forest. We've got to distract them, or the trident maneuver will never work."
Thoughtfully, Gwen leaned her chin on his shoulder, tightening her hold around his middle as Kilgharrah navigated their glade in a low circle once more, "What if we came in from above? It's unlikely they'll be expecting an assault from the sky—probably why Arthur suggested it in the first place." She smothered a giggle, slightly embarrassed, as Aithusa took the opportunity to gently nibble on her hair.
Merlin released an uncertain breath, even as his lips quirked up in a half-smile upon observing their interaction from the corner of his eye.
Bors leaned around Gwen to meet the warlock's eyes, "She is right," the knight pointed out. "It will have been many years since anyone last faced assailants on dragon-back. Rare were the times the Dragonlords brought their mounts into battle even before Uther's reign. At least in my grandfather's memory."
Merlin pressed his lips together, knowing they were both right, but hesitant to move too quickly. They needed every ounce of surprise on their side that they could cultivate.
Kilgharrah cleared his throat, still circling well below the treetops but now gradually starting to rise, "Perhaps I can be of some assistance, Merlin…?"
Merlin leaned forward so he could (try) to meet Kilgharrah's eye, Aithusa chirping indignantly as she found herself dislodged from her perch.
Rolling his eyes, but reaching behind him to gently pat her on the head (and receiving a sharp nip on his finger for all his troubles), Merlin murmured, "What did you have in mind, Kilgharrah?"
"A spell. Now that you have dragonflight armor, there is a place to anchor it."
Merlin blinked, "…Wait, what?"
Kilgharrah heaved a sigh, but answered nonetheless, sounding terribly put upon, "The runes on your armor."
"These are runes?" Merlin demanded, covering one of the feathered swirls adorning the leather pauldron on his shoulder.
Kilgharrah snorted, "Indeed. I'd imagine your friends were all but unaware when they fashioned it for you."
Stunned, Merlin glanced over his shoulder at Gwen, who gave a furred shrug and nodded in confirmation.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Merlin sighed and turned back to Kilgharrah, "What does this spell do?" he asked.
"It's a cloaking device, meant to keep you invisible from enemy eyes. Contrary to popular belief," Kilgharrah snorted in derision, "Dragonlords prefer to operate with stealth, often choosing concealment over confrontation."
Merlin's mouth had hung open somewhere halfway through Kilgharrah's explanation. Now it clicked shut as he demanded, "And you never bothered to tell me this before why?"
Kilgharrah gave a massive shrug, unaffected, "You weren't ready to know it before, too caught up in the belief that everything about magic requires a spell. While that may be true for a sorcerer or sorceress, you are a warlock. You are Emrys. That has never been true of you."
With his head spinning and a lump in his throat, Merlin sat back on Kilgharrah's spine, staring ahead in a slight daze as he tried to process this new information.
Aithusa warbled softly in his ear and nudged her warm snout beneath it, over her snit for the moment.
Behind him, he felt Gwen lean forward to hug him again, offering comfort, even though it was clear his female friend understood little of their conversation.
"What do I need to do?" he whispered at last. They were just below the tree line now and running out of time—fast.
Kilgharrah huffed, "I can teach you how to anchor it to your dragonflight armor—that is simple enough. But it will only conceal myself, Aithusa, and you. I am assuming," added sardonically, "that you would prefer the ability to conceal us all."
Merlin scowled at the implication that it would have otherwise left Gwen and Bors unprotected, and retorted (a little hotly), "Of course!"
Kilgharrah sighed, "I had assumed as much. I will only be able to teach you the basic foundations, Merlin. It will be up to you to take what I teach you and alter it as you see fit." He paused, and if that were not enough induce trepidation, the Great Dragon's next words certainly were, "You realize…nothing like this has ever been attempted before."
Despite the way his throat seized at that admission, Merlin nodded, ruefully conceding that nothing had ever been "normal" about his powers.
Behind him, Gwen gently tapped his shoulder.
"Merlin…" she murmured. He turned his head and nodded for her to go on, "We may want to warn Arthur. If this thing is meant to make us disappear, even briefly…"
She trailed off, the implications obvious, and Merlin grimaced, just imagining the reaction their sudden disappearance would provoke.
Bors snorted in ill-concealed amusement, making his view on the matter clear, "By all means, let's avoid panicking His Royal Highness, then, shall we?"
Merlin glared at him over his shoulder, but finally sighed and nodded.
A whispered spell into his palm and a striated blue-gold orb bloomed in mid-air, another rapidly detaching itself and streaking down towards the main bulk of the fighters on the forest floor.
He ignored Gwen's gasp of surprise and Bors's mildly nonplussed expression, studying the orb hovering over his palm intently, until he heard a half-bitten off yelp from within it, "Arthur?"
IOIOIOIOIOI
Arthur had been pacing in front of Kay, Leon, and Percy for the better part of the past half-hour, anxiously awaiting some kind of signal from Merlin to start the ground attack. Behind them, hidden by flickering torchlight and smoke, as well as the nighttime shadows of the trees, the main bulk of their army waited. As on edge and restless as Arthur himself.
Although, he thought (a bit petulantly), they are hiding it far better than I.
For the fifth time, in as many minutes, he whirled on Leon, demanding, "Does anyone have eyes on Merlin?"
Their Head Knight smiled, a bit indulgently, and opened his mouth to respond…when a striated blue orb suddenly sparked into existence right next to Arthur's cheek.
With a startled yelp, Arthur stumbled back, prompting Leon (as well as Percival and Kay) to yank his sword partway out of its sheath…before he, too, took note of the anomaly floating in mid-air where, moments before, his monarch had been.
Now some two hands' span away, Arthur stared at the eerily familiar sphere of light, forcibly yanked back in his memories to a dank, dark cave full of spiders, vermin…and a precious flower, meant to save an equally precious life. Had he already been enamored, even then?
From within the heart of the orb came what was—unmistakably—Merlin's voice, "Arthur…?"
Arthur gaped at it. Beside him, the knights gaped, too. With good reason—no one had quite expected this.
He must have taken a little too long to respond, however, because Merlin's voice spoke up again, anxious, and irritable in equal measure, "Arthur…gods damn it, will you answer me already?"
Swallowing against his dry throat, Arthur barely managed, "Y-Yeah, I-I'm here." His voice cracked, and he coughed, striving to return normalcy to this conversation, "R-Really, Merlin, you couldn't have given us a little warning?"
He could just imagine Merlin rolling his eyes, "This is your warning, clot pole. I'm going to try something…and I don't want you panicking when I do."
The muscles of Arthur's shoulders tightened. When Merlin said something like that, it never meant anything good.
Humorlessly, a faint strain in his voice, he retorted, "You have yet to tell me what I am supposed to be panicking about, so you'll forgive me if I don't hop to it."
It startled a surprised snort of laughter out of Merlin, the orb bobbing at eye height as it revolved, and Arthur relaxed incrementally, surprised by the sudden lack of tension between them. His best friend sounded far more at ease when he spoke up again, "It's a cloaking spell. Kilgharrah is going to teach it to me. It should conceal us from the eyes of Morgana's sentries…but it may also conceal us from you. I-I haven't ever tried something like this before, s-so I don't know if—"
It took Arthur's highly-strung brain several moments to process the implications. When it did, he immediately tensed, his anxiety ratcheting up, "I won't be able to have eyes on you, will I? Not until—" his throat closed up.
There was a pause. The orb swirled and revolved. At last, Merlin's voice admitted softly, "…Probably not."
Arthur did not like that idea. At all. "Merlin—" spoken tightly.
Behind his back, their knights exchanged knowing glances. Arthur ignored them, pressing his fingers tightly against his eyelids as he fought to stem their heat. Several endless moments of silence unspooled between them.
"…We'll be okay, Arthur," Merlin's voice was gentle when he finally spoke. "I promised…I am promising, all right?"
Arthur's breathing hitched: "…Thrice-damned…" he muttered at last, jamming the tips of his fingers against his eyes. He raised his voice, finally sliding his fingers off his nose, "All right, all right. Fine. Drop the cloaking the moment you start your attack, do you understand?"
Another long moment of silence, then, "…You overprotective ass. Of course we will," Merlin's retort somehow lacked all ire. "Consider it the signal to begin your prong of the attack."
Arthur's lips tightened, but he gave a sharp nod, despite knowing Merlin could not see it, "Right."
With that, the blue orb sparked out of existence and Arthur released a wavering breath, squeezing his eyes shut and shoving his fingers against their eyelids once more.
Leon's arm came around his shoulders, "Arthur…?" he murmured, both a query and an expression of concern.
Before the king could respond, a startled yell, then a loud curse, came from further down the tree line where he had established his own sentries, "We've lost sight of them! How can we lose sight of a bloody dragon?"
Arthur grit his teeth, dropping his fingers and glancing up at Leon.
Whatever he read in his young monarch's expression, Leon apparently understood the message, because he chose that moment to nod at Kay, who hurried off to inform the sentries about what, exactly, was going on and what to expect within the next several minutes.
As they waited, the silence stretched between them. Percival grunted softly, tossing his arm over Arthur's shoulders (much as he had with Merlin two nights prior), and Leon gripped the king's arm, who smiled wanly at them both.
Moments later, another yell shattered the silence, "He's up, he's up! Time to move out!"
Arthur slid Excalibur out of its sheath. Beside him, Leon and Percival did the same with their own swords.
"For glory?" Leon asked softly.
Arthur gave a sharp nod, "And for Camelot."
As orange flames erupted in the night sky overhead, that cry was quickly taken up by the rest of their men and women, her defenders streaming through the trees in the direction of Camelot.
IOIOIOIOIOI
It was almost insulting, at first, how easily the curtain wall fell. But then, Merlin had to remember these were mercenaries. Hired muscle meant to show brute force and power.
In their first pass they had caught them completely unawares, knocking out and otherwise maiming half the defenders along the wall. Now, as Kilgharrah completed his second pass, a gout of flame emerged from the Great Dragon's throat and blasted down to burn the Southrons below.
As Kilgharrah wheeled and banked again, starting on his third pass, Gwen suddenly yelped, ducking her head into Merlin's back as several arrows whistled above their heads.
Kilgharrah veered sharply to avoid them, forcing his human riders to hang on, lest they slide off and tumble to the rocks below.
Aithusa shrieked excitedly as the older dragon righted himself, her talons yanking at Merlin's hair.
"Yours is a happy nature, little one," Bors muttered, looking quite green as he regained his seat.
In front of him, Merlin whipped around to face Gwen, keenly aware of the slight form trembling against his back: "Are you okay?" he demanded.
She raised her head from where she'd buried it between his shoulder blades, giving a shaky nod and strangled laugh, "J-Just startled."
He did not get a chance reply. Aithusa shrieked again, this time in warning, and Kilgharrah banked left, avoiding another volley of arrows, their tips flaming. A third volley followed the second.
If it hit the dragons, they would be unaffected. Their hides were fireproof, and impervious to most human weapons.
Such was not the case for Bors, Gwen, or Merlin. It would be devastating if even a single arrow pierced their skin. Their armor afforded them some protection, but nothing like near enough.
However, before either Bors or Merlin could lift a hand or mutter an incantation, Aithusa gave a long, high-pitched whistle, freezing the arrows in their trajectory and snuffing out their flames as easily as a candle's wick. They dropped, raining down on the mercenaries below, as the series of muttered curses in Southron attested.
Merlin twisted to stare at the panting dragon kit on his spaulder, a little too stunned, at first, to say anything. Finally, he murmured, "Did I know you could do that?"
The dragon kit snorted at him, a bit tiredly. Merlin frowned, reminded that she was not even a yearling, yet. Gently, he scratched her behind an ear, "Thanks, Aithusa."
She warbled softly in response, nestling into his neck, and gave a small, exhausted huff as she settled down against his skin.
Kilgharrah banked once more, climbing steeply into the air to gain some altitude from the archers.
The warning bell began clanging. Faintly, from down below and within the bowels of the citadel, came yells and the clashing of swords.
Merlin and Gwen glanced at the castle behind them, exchanging intent looks.
"Are they in, do you think?" Merlin murmured.
Bors tilted his head, listening to the slam of boots pounding up the stairs and down the flagstone corridors.
"It would seem so," he observed.
A fourth volley of flaming arrows shot up into the air above them, arched to continue their trajectory straight into Kilgharrah's back.
A flash of gold from Merlin and a flash of silver from Bors, and most of the arrows halted in mid-air, their flames frozen in place. A second flash of gold from Merlin and a muttered spell from Bors sent the arrows spinning in the exact opposite direction, hurtling down at the archers below. Multiple grunts and a series of Southron curses indicated their targets had been hit.
What arrows they did not stop were handily diverted by an ear-splitting roar from Kilgharrah and a high-pitched shriek from Aithusa. The dragons' response had the added benefit of knocking any remaining archers out for the count.
For a moment, the ramparts were still and quiet, the distant ringing of swords and the shouts of their men and women below the only indication that this battle was far from finished. They had one, precious second to breathe…and then Southrons were pouring out of the citadel's entrance.
Kilgharrah shot up from where he had been hovering over it, beginning a long, slanting descent towards the farthest rampart as more Southrons swarmed the curtain wall. He touched down a few yards from a relatively unmanned entrance to the castle just as another volley of arrows whistled through the air.
Bors slid off the Great Dragon's back first, unsheathing his sword with a whirl of steel and flashing it up to knock a burly Southron's weapon from his grasp. He kicked out at another assailant that tried creep up on him from behind.
Gwen followed the knight, leaping off Kilgharrah both feet first, and succeeded in knocking two smaller Southrons against the stone parapet as she landed on them.
Another Southron tried to sever her neck, but Gwen ducked the blow and jammed her shoulder into his solar plexus, causing the man to crumple. She kicked his feet out from beneath him and unsheathed her own sword, a spare from the armory. A moment later she spun to block an incoming blow from yet another's sword.
Merlin leaped off Kilgharrah's back to help her as the older dragon took to the skies with an all-resounding roar, unleashing yet another bout of flame as he went. The warlock's daggers jumped straight into his palms, courtesy of a flash of gold from his eyes, then twirled, neatly severing two Southrons' hands from their wrists. Aithusa clung to her Dragonlord's shoulders as he landed, releasing a jet of fire straight into a Southron's face when the mercenary crept a little too close.
For several endless minutes there was nothing but battle and blood and heat, the three humans and two dragons battling fiercely to allow the defenders safe entrance into the interior of the castle.
…They nearly collided with Sir Kay when they finally reached the threshold, a score of Camelot's knights on his heels.
For a moment, both parties drew up short, staring at each other in surprise. Then Kay grinned, about to open his mouth and make some kind of smart remark—
-When Gwen screamed Merlin's name, all but unintelligible in her panic.
Before Merlin could even rightly process his danger, there was a rush of air and the hard impact of another body against his back.
Gwen screamed again and Merlin rolled, grunting as his body absorbed the collision with unforgiving stone. Shaking his head and levering himself up, he glanced around in attempt to piece together what had happened.
…His eyes fell on Bors, the proud knight crumpled on the ground and listing to one side, a crossbow bolt piercing his armpit.
Merlin lurched to his feet. "Bors…" he choked, stumbling forward to crash to his knees beside him.
Aithusa slammed down on his shoulders and shrieked a warning, unleashing a gout of flame at their attacker's face when he tried to loose another crossbow bolt. The Southron was dead before he even hit the ground.
Gwen and Kay rushed over to join them as the rest of Camelot's knights poured out of the tower's entrance, swarming the Southrons and quickly overtaking the mercenaries.
Kilgharrah touched down beside them, mere feet from the entrance, coiling his entire long body around the humans and baby dragon in its midst as he batted away any stray Southrons who wandered too close.
Gently, Kay helped Merlin uncurl Bors, urging the older man upright by grasping his shoulders.
Bors gasped, the pained expression on his face half-grin, half-grimace as it flashed over at them, "I would like to say it's been a pleasure—"
Kay jabbed him in his unwounded side before the older knight could even complete the sentence, "Be quiet. You are not going anywhere, you hear? Merlin—"
But Merlin had already begun rapidly checking the other man over, assessing the damage, and cataloguing what he would need to avoid this incredibly unwelcome fatality. The conclusion he came to wasn't comforting.
"…I don't know how I can help," he whispered, passing a hand across his face to stem the tears. "We haven't the equipment necessary and even with my magic—"
Kilgharrah cleared his throat, keeping one eye on the evolving situation around them. As Camelot's forces started rounding up the surviving Southrons and patrolling the battlements, the dragon reminded him, "Merlin…although you may not be familiar with the healing spells of the battlefield, you do not need them, remember?"
Gwen squeezed the hand she'd taken without Merlin noticing, rubbing at it as he raised his eyes to squint at her. She smiled gently, "Just use what you know, Merlin."
The warlock swallowed hard and nodded, "Right," whispered.
He did not allow himself to think after that, simply shut his eyes and focused on healing: blood and veins, muscle and sinew, wood, and steel; the only difference was the magic they contained.
There was a flash of gold. Gwen gasped. Merlin opened his eyes to find that the crossbow bolt had completely disappeared, and that the wound itself was nothing more than a rather angry looking scar.
Kay gaped at him and Bors in turns, unable to formulate any coherent words.
Bors simply smirked in response, utterly exhausted, and turned to give Merlin a look of unreserved admiration.
"That was amazing!" Gwen blurted. "How did you even-!"
"I have no idea," Merlin whispered, more than a little stunned himself.
The only one who didn't look surprised was Kilgharrah. In fact, if he read the dragon's expression right, the massive being was quite proud.
Unable to handle much else right now, Merlin rubbed his eyes, murmuring a spell to conjure a set of bandages, which he quickly wrapped around the healing wound. Before he could conjure a sling as well, Kay ripped a large swath of fabric from his own cloak, folding it over into a triangle and expertly tying it off around Bors's arm.
Only then did the four humans truly dare to breathe a sigh of relief, even if their guard remained high.
Sighing as he sat back on his heels, Merlin scrubbed his hands over his face and turned to Kay, "What are you even doing here?" he murmured. "I thought you were supposed to be with Arthur."
Kay shrugged, easing up Bors against his shoulder, "Did you really think Arthur would leave the three of you without back up? He sent me up here, almost as soon as we breached the tunnels."
"What?" Merlin demanded. "Why?"
Kay's eyebrows shot to his hairline, "Do you honestly not know the answer to that?"
Merlin scowled, patience running thin and nerves frayed.
Before he could snap a retort, however, Gwen laid a hand on his shoulder, noticing that his temper had peaked, "We should get moving, Merlin. Arthur will be expecting us soon. And we have yet to meet up with Tristan and Isolde—or reach the dungeons, for that matter."
Kay glanced up sharply, "The dungeons? The halls are crawling with Southrons. You'd never make it without support. We had surprise on our side. They'll know you are here now. Take half of our fighters. You'll need back up—"
Merlin shook his head, "We can't. If there's another surge—"
"We'll be fine," Kay argued. "The dragons will be here. That is, if they don't mind—"
Despite himself, despite everything, Merlin snorted, "I doubt Kilgharrah would even fit through the door."
Kilgharrah, overhearing, huffed.
Merlin half-smirked, "What? It's true."
The ancient dragon did not even dignify that with an answer.
Releasing a soft laugh, Merlin reached up to try and remove Aithusa from his shoulders, intending to entrust her to Kilgharrah's keeping.
Naturally, she objected most strenuously, attempting to scrabble up his arm in hopes of hampering his efforts.
"Aithusa—" he scolded.
She bleated at him, using her talons to good effect as she clung to his dragonflight armor and swung to avoid his hands.
It took several moments of gentle, painstaking removal to finally get her off him, and he at last managed to transfer her over to Kilgharrah with a relieved sigh.
The older dragon lightly clamped down on her tail when she tried to launch herself back at Merlin and the dragon kit turned her shrill scolding to him, which was quite a feat considering she hung upside down from his mouth by her tail.
Kilgharrah rolled his eyes, using the tender grip he had on Aithusa to flip her up and onto his back, folding both wings over her when she attempted to escape.
"You best get along, Merlin and Missee," he rumbled, glancing at the warlock and Gwen, "she won't be contained for long. We'll stand guard here."
Merlin sighed and rubbed Kilgharrah's snout, gesturing his female friend ahead to the tower stair, "Thanks, Kilgharrah."
Gwen smiled warmly and pattered on ahead, Merlin on her heels. They swiftly disappeared through the threshold, the sharp staccato of their footsteps clattering down the stairwell.
"…They didn't even bother waiting for back up," Kay grumbled as the two passed from sight. "They're just as bad as Arthur!"
Bors released a breath of a laugh, leaning heavily against Kay's side, "And this surprises you why? There's a reason he loves them."
Kay conceded his point with a sigh, hunkering down against the larger dragon's warm hide to await the battle's end.
TBC