Disclaimer: I own nothing in this marvelous universe; it all belongs to BBC Merlin.
Author's Note:Okay, so I did NOT expect to publish another chapter so soon after the previous one, but it turns out the battle did not intend to have its momentum arrested :). I fully expected this chapter to focus more on Arthur…but well, the knights demanded a turn, as well. This is the knights' chapter, really (and the ending gave me a headache, as I went back and forth about how much to include in this chapter versus the next one). Arthur appears at the beginning with Leon, Percival in the middle, Gwaine and Elyan after him, and then Merlin and Gaius cap the end of this chapter. I'll start up again with Merlin and Arthur in the next one—those will be fun scenes, since they are getting closer to reuniting ;). I hope you enjoy this (relatively) brief chapter!
Reviewers: All 323 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 16)
Charging through Camelot's underground defense tunnels, attempting to invade his own citadel, had never been something Arthur expected he would have to do. Yet, here they were.
He knew from the sounds above them that Merlin, Kay, and Percival had been successful in their attacks. That meant Merlin and his party ought to be headed towards the dungeons shortly—if all had gone according to plan.
(Very surprisingly, it had on their end as well. Most of the Southron sentries guarding the postern gate and these tunnels had been taken out quite efficiently courtesy of Leon's and the knights' crossbow bolts.)
At the intersection of the underground tunnels with the Griffin staircase, Arthur halted, causing Leon to stop abruptly beside him.
"Sire…?" the surprised inquiry rolled between them.
Arthur ignored it for the moment, waving Leon's lieutenant—Sir Lionel—ahead of them down the hallway with half their knights. Then he turned to his increasingly uneasy Head Knight, "Take the other half of our men and meet up with Merlin at the dungeons. They'll need back up."
"But, Sire, you already sent Sir Kay-!"
Arthur shook his head, "Kay's force will need to stay and defend the ramparts. The dragons are too large to fit inside the citadel, so they will need to stay above, as well. Morgana and Helios now know we're here. We've lost the element of surprise and Merlin has only Gwen and Bors with him. He is going to need more than a sorcerer and sword maiden to retake the dungeons—"
Leon had already begun to shake his own head halfway through Arthur's explanation.
"Arthur," he beseeched him, "you sent Kay up with over sixty of our fighters. Surely he sent some back with Merlin! If I take half our men with me to the dungeons your defense force will be severely depleted—"
Arthur shook his head again, pressing a hand firmly against the older man's shoulder, "Take our knights where they are most needed—to defend our people. Besides," the king smirked, "do you really think Merlin—or Bors, for that matter—would have waited around for back up? Especially when he realizes I sent Kay on ahead of us?"
Leon frowned, unable to refute his point and clearly unhappy about it.
Arthur sobered, gripping his Head Knight's shoulder tightly, "I do not want to make it an order, Leon, but I will if I must."
The older knight pressed his lips together in a thin line, "I do not like this at all, Arthur," the man stated softly, meeting his young monarch's eyes, "I just want to make that clear. But I will do it because you are my king…and I trust your judgement."
A lump formed in Arthur throat as he returned Leon's worried gaze, and he hung on to his older friend for a moment, reeling the surprised knight in and thumping him once on his back.
Before he could release him, Leon suddenly grabbed his arm in return and pulled him in to murmur into his ear, "One last thing, Sire…"
Unsure what to say in response, Arthur nodded.
"…I am not going to be the one who explains to Merlin why I left you on your own to infiltrate the citadel."
Before Arthur could properly respond, Leon was gone, charging up the Griffin stair with the minimal number of fighters necessary for their assault on the dungeons.
Arthur blinked after them, slightly nonplussed as he considered the substantiality of his Head Knight's threat.
Too bad I cannot qualify it as treason, Arthur thought with an inward groan. I would never hear the end of it from Merlin.
Clearly aware of his thoughts and having caught the tail end of the Head Knight's conversation with their monarch, Lionel coughed politely (which Arthur suspected was meant to conceal an amused chuckle) and murmured, "Shall we be on, Sire?"
Arthur sighed, "Let's move out."
They continued their headlong rush down the adjoining corridor.
IOIOIOIOIOI
Two levels above them, Percival was having a somewhat more difficult time making headway than he had upon first entering the castle.
They'd managed to battle their way down into the bowels of the citadel, after first retaking the Great Hall, but Isolde and Tristan had since split from him, on their way to meet up with Merlin, Gwen, and Bors near the Council Chambers.
Now, the Southrons just seemed to keep coming, pouring out of corridors and down stairways. Percival had not ever realized how many spiral stairs, towers, and hidden alcoves Camelot's Keep contained until he had to avoid—and sometimes seek—each one.
It became a problem one corridor away from the entrance to the dungeons.
Here, at the convergence of three hallways and a tower stair, Helios's guards had set up a makeshift barricade. Overturned, rough-hewn wooden chairs and tables blocked the only entrance to the dungeon corridor, as well as the opposite end of the hall Percival had just entered.
A crossbow bolt slammed into the corridor wall just beside his head, causing him to duck and turn his face aside with a startled curse as it kicked up razor-sharp stone chips.
Beside him, concealed by the arched entrance way affording their only protection, Elaine the Tanner's Daughter murmured to him, "Sir Percival…?"
She was a sturdy young woman, big boned, but sure in her movements. She would make a fine knight one day if Arthur managed to push the reform through with the council. In their flight here, she had become his de facto second-in-command. But he could not ask her to cover for them alone if they tried to make their way to the stair leading up into the tower.
There was also the issue of the open corridor behind them. If they left no one behind to defend it, little would stop the Southrons from barricading that, as well, and essentially forcing their retreat up to the tower.
He was about to ask her to split up their force, anyway—a third to cover their backs, a third to defend their retreat up the stairs, and the rest divided between the two prongs of the Southron forces…when several more crossbow bolts whizzed overhead and slammed into the threshold above them, kicking up a tremendous cloud of shards and stone dust.
Percival and Elaine threw their arms up over their faces to shield them, as behind the two, their two dozen or so fighters did the same.
Coughing, his eyes watering, Percival peered through the gray particles, attempting to evaluate what kind of new threat the crossbow bolts posed.
Instead, he heard the cries of Southrons across from them and, as the dust finally settled, discovered Leon charging down the corridor opposite them, crossbows blazing and another score of knights on his heels.
Percival grinned widely and charged out to meet the Southrons fleeing in front of them, his own contingent swiftly following him. Most of the mercenaries were too preoccupied avoiding the crossbow bolts to sufficiently use their weapons, which allowed him to battle his way to Leon's side and join up their forces, his sword flashing.
Caught betwixt and between, the remaining Southrons charged up the tower stair and attempted to recoup, hoping to mount an attack from above.
It might have worked—they had the high ground, after all—if not for the rush of gold-tinged wind that abruptly howled down the spiral staircase behind them.
IOIOIOIOIOI
A faint commotion in the corridor just outside the dungeons stirred Gwaine from where he had slumped against the stone wall of their cell in a pain-and-hunger-induced stupor. As it steadily grew louder, the distinct clang of swords had him lurching to his feet and Elyan's head jumping up from where he had been monitoring Gaius's condition.
Around them, the other inhabitants of the cells—many of them residents of the lower town—began to stir and mutter, as they, too, heard battle drawing near.
Most peculiarly, those sounds were punctuated by periodic booms and the roar of fast-moving air.
Before anyone could so much as venture a guess, the heavy oaken door of the dungeon flew open, slamming into the wall with a hollow boom which reverberated down to the very foundations of the stones.
An enormous gust of wind, tinged just slightly with a crackle of blue-gold, swept in directly after it, yanking the few Southron guards left off their feet and dashing them with a sickening crack against the flagstones of the farthest wall.
A few startled screams came from the townsfolk, and even a few of the other imprisoned knights looked a little wary.
Elyan stumbled to the cell door with Gwaine on his heels to peer out in disbelief at the destruction the wind had wrought.
"That can't possibly have been natural-!" the blacksmith murmured.
Whatever retort Gwaine might have made got cut off as Percival and Leon tumbled into the room, most of their combined forces taking up the rear. They looked a little dazed.
Gwaine grinned widely at the sight of them: "Come on, boys!" cried in delight, with an energy he didn't quite feel. "What's taking you so long?"
Leon snorted and righted himself, grabbing the ring of keys off their hook near the door and tossing it to Percival, who ran forward towards their cell.
As Percival unlocked the door, a blur of cream and brown shot past him to attach itself to Elyan's middle. A moment later, the blur resolved into the leather-armor clad form of the man's younger sister, Guinevere's dark chocolate hair askew within its ribbon.
"Gwen!" Elyan tried to hug her at the same time he returned Percival's clasp on his arm.
"You all right?" the large knight asked for them both.
Elyan managed to roll his eyes around a wince, but refused to release Gwen as she murmured her relief into his shoulder, "I've been locked up with Gwaine for over a week. What do you think?"
Percival chuckled, using the grip he had on Elyan's arm to carefully tug the man and his sister out of the cell.
Leon entered behind them, in a glance taking in Gaius's feebly moving form on the cot and Gwaine using the wall for support. He scowled as he observed the other knight trying to make his way out on his own stubborn two feet and swiftly glided over to him, hauling the man's arm over his shoulder.
"Noble ass," he muttered.
Gwaine gave him an affronted look, which Leon knew was not for the "ass" bit of that statement, but since he did not shrug off Leon's help, the Head Knight counted it as a win.
At that point, Merlin rushed in, hurtling past the four of them into the cell as he clearly caught sight of Gaius.
Leon winced at the broken noise that emerged from the warlock's throat as he crashed to his knees beside the cot where the elderly physician lay, unable to articulate another sound.
"Who the hell is that?" Gwaine demanded, catching a glimpse of the dragonflight armor out of the corner of his eye as Leon helped him out of the cell.
Despite everything, Percival snorted, and Leon smirked.
Elyan eyed them thoughtfully before he bent his head over Gwen's and whispered an inquiry in her ear. When she nodded, still clutching at him, Elyan grinned and raised his head, examining Merlin's dragonflight armor with the practiced eye of a craftsman.
Gwaine was the only one who looked remotely confused.
This time, Elyan snorted, "That is Merlin."
From within the cell, Merlin's voice gave a thick cry, "Gaius!"
IOIOIOIOIOI
Gaius, to put it bluntly, was a mess. Whatever Morgana had done to him, it had affected the elderly physician badly.
At his apprentice's soft cry, the older man's sunken eyes flickered open to squint up at the warlock hovering over him.
"Balinor…?" he murmured in complete confusion.
"No," Merlin choked, gingerly squeezing the frail old hand, "no, it's me, Gaius. It's Merlin."
Gaius's eyes widened, alarm covering the bruised features, "Mer…Merlin? Y-You shouldn't be here! Morgana will—and Arthur-!"
"He's fine," Merlin choked (praying that he was), "He's fine. I healed him. We attacked the citadel. We've got to get you out of here—"
A shaking hand raised to cup his cheek. Merlin grabbed it and hung on. Gaius smiled at him.
"Merlin," murmured again, in a voice full of relief. Dull, feverish eyes slowly tracked their way down, a proud smile touching the cracked lips as they fell on the embellished swirls and intricate knots of the dragonflight armor. "…Just…look at you."
Merlin bit back a sob, surging forward to bury his wet face in the old physician's matted white hair. Even as his shoulders shook with the force of his sobs, the warlock's eyelids glowed gold, the pupils and irises they contained swirling with unbridled power.
A surge of blue, a flash of gold, and Gaius gasped loudly, sitting upright with his apprentice attached firmly to his middle and his veins alight with the younger man's healing magic. He jerked back, hands clasping the sodden face between them, "Merlin, did you just…?"
It felt utterly unlike how the warlock's magic had behaved before.
Or, well, no…more like how it was at the beginning, but—
Merlin clutched Gaius's hands to his face, grinning tearily as he saw his beloved mentor hale and healthy in a way he had not been since Aredian.
"I did," he murmured.
Gaius happened to lift his head then and caught sight of their audience. Two of whom outright gaped at them from the entrance of the cell, and the other three looking only a little better.
Merlin ducked his head, a red hue flushing his skin all the way from his neck to the bridge of his nose as Gaius turned to him, raising an eyebrow nearly to his hairline and wearing a forbidding scowl, "We are going to talk about exactly how you still have your head attached to your shoulders after using your magic in front of four of Camelot's finest once we are through here."
Merlin grinned, too relieved to mind the scolding, and reached out to pull Gaius to his feet, "Let's get you out of here. You can scold me all you want later."
TBC