It was an unfamiliar feeling of weightlessness that seized him as he descended with Claire into the darkness. A single shaft of light from her portal illuminated the unending plane surrounding them, the expanse unsearchable other than the hunks of rock slowly spinning through it. The air held them up like water, but there was no resistance, no change in the feeling against Archie's fur. It was eerie, perverse, and Archie's every sense was screaming at him that they did not belong there and should retreat posthaste.
But Claire was unflinching in the face of it, and Archie steeled himself, sinking down and further away from the light. He peered around them, adjusting his spectacles, unsure what to look for but hoping to see anything besides ominous rocks and unchanging darkness. Fearing what else might lie in the perpetual night.
Claire tilted to a standing position, and drew in a sharp breath. Archie scrabbled against the nothingness before he righted himself too and came to hover next to her. He didn't need to ask; Claire nodded to their right, and an indeterminate distance away, Archie saw it: a tiny pinprick of yellow light.
It wasn't until it was too close that he recognized it. "Duck!"
The two of them flinched as a bolt of golden magic shot past their heads.
"Handmaiden!" The shout was as pointed as the magic that had missed them.
A figure in golden armor appeared—Archie took a moment to wonder how she had hid in the middle of this monotonous realm, as her armor glowed and magic shone brilliantly against the black—and Claire stiffened, raising her arms in a battle stance. "You here for a fight?"
Morgana floated just out of reach, but there was something… off about her. As Archie got a better look, he saw that she had no form. Her armor was sustained by the outline of a body, a ghost of pure golden magic, with the same piercing eyes as centuries before.
"Whatever the Order's planning," Archie ventured, claws at the ready, "Can't be good if it involves you and the Shadow Realm. But you're just a shade. Mustn't it hurt, Morgana, to be reduced to insubstantiality? You were always so proactive. Too bad you can only watch the real world now, huh?"
"I'm not here on behalf of the Order," Morgana growled, her voice echoing.
"Yeah, right," Claire scoffed. "You're always up to something. Or are you so eager to meet your end again?"
Archie did not think it would be fruitful to tell her that a shade couldn't well die again. Young Claire was too fierce in her dedication. "Why are you in the Shadow Realm, Morgana?" Archie asked, instead. "Make it a believable lie, now."
Morgana's empty eyes came to his, and he resisted the urge to raise his hackles.
"Much like you, I presume," she muttered, voice low, angry. "I seek someone."
"Who?" Claire had summoned a very scary looking shadow knife at some point in the conversation, and Archie resisted the urge to tell her to put down the pointy thing. He kept meeting teenagers wielding weapons and couldn't help but remember how many times Douxie dropped books on his own toes. They were going to chop their own fingers off.
Morgana's face twisted, and it took him a moment to identify the emotion. Her eyes were wide. If Archie didn't know better, he'd have called it grief. "You must know by now, of the Knight which the Order sent after your ragtag little friends?"
"If you're looking to congratulate him for taking our friend, I'm afraid you're celebrating too early," and here Claire raised her knife, summoning a flame of dark magic to her other hand.
"Do you want to know who he is?"
Archie reached out and stopped Claire from attacking. "Do you know, Morgana?"
Her eyes met his, and Archie knew now that it was grief in their depths. "I'll tell you, but you must promise to help me."
Claire only scowled fiercer, and Archie bit back a laugh. "Very cute. You tell us, and maybe we won't send you back to your wretched half-life on earth?"
Morgana's eyes were the brightest part of her construct, and their piercing stare held all the same fiery purpose as they had when she was alive.
"It is Arthur."
Claire gasped beside him, and Archie's blood ran cold. The words rang hollow, meaningless for a too-long moment, before it sunk in, and Archie felt his jaw clench hard enough that his fangs ached. King Arthur, Pendragon, King of Camelot—a man of endless titles, his legacy bigger than almost any other, flaws smoothed over by history and literature, influence and power wide enough that respect for the man still lived deep in Archie's chest.
"Why would we believe you?" Claire demanded. "How would you know who the Knight is?"
"I may be a mere shade," Morgana bit out the words, "but I have enough consciousness, enough power lingering to feel such magic as the Order's. I was drawn to it; yes, at first to see if they would succeed. I owed them for my second life, you know."
"So they were the reason you returned after the battle on the cliff all those centuries ago," Archie said.
"Indeed. I began to take notice of their movements in time to see Camelot fall. The Knight seemed… to call out to me. I recognized the Order's magic in the Knight, but also one like my own. It seems that… in reanimating my brother, they sparked to life the magic that runs in our blood. I couldn't help but think… Arthur would have been appalled to wield magic. To be brought back by theirs. He never would have agreed with the Order's plans to destroy everything.
"But," Morgana gave Archie a scowl, "as you mentioned, I have no power in the mortal realm now. I am a mere shade. I could only observe. So I ventured here, where my power lingers, and where I might find Arthur's soul."
"And what," Claire demanded, "will you do if you find him? The Order's plan seems like something you'd support. Why would we help you if you're just going to help them?"
Morgana's scowl rose, a much more familiar expression than the confusion and grief that had flickered over it earlier. "I don't have time to quarrel with you. I'm here to save my brother.
"I must know if my Arthur still exists." The admission was a breathless one, both because Morgana had no breath and because it seemed torn from her unwillingly.
"You want to save your brother. We want to save Douxie." Claire didn't hesitate, but she didn't take her eyes off of Morgana even as she lowered the dagger. "Truce? We'll hold off killing each other until after we find Douxie's and Arthur's souls."
Morgana's insubstantial face twitched in a smirk. "Wise. I always said we're more alike than you know."
Claire's knife disappeared in a spray of her purple magic, and she followed Morgana's figure back into a glide toward some distant point. She muttered, "Perhaps," in response, but Archie nudged her, and shook his head slightly. She grinned back at him, and they descended together, following Morgana's golden silhouette and the hope of some other figure down in the immeasurable depths.
/
Their continued descent should have made Archie more and more uneasy, but as the three of them floated weightlessly into the shadow realm, Archie found himself drifting faster and faster. At first he didn't realize why, but soon he came to recognize it—a tug. His familiar bond was drawn taut, across distance and the magic covering Douxie's presence, but it remained. Arch ended up taking the lead, following the quiet feeling of his familiar.
But it was Claire who saw it first. "There!"
It looked the same as the other ruined rocks that floated about the dead air, but as Archie adjusted his spectacles, he came to recognize it: Merlin's tower. It spun slowly, as rugged as Archie had seen it lying in ruins in Arcadia's school, one side blasted clear off and revealing the interior, still strewn with books and magical artifacts.
And there in the midst: a glowing purple figure, slowly sweeping his way across the floor.
"Merlin's study," Morgana said. "Even now, it binds his human soul; his human torment, manifested from the physical realm—"
Claire was already drifting closer, as Archie ignored the old witch. "I know," she said, "You did this to me once."
"Ah, yes. We had fun." And Morgana's voice seemed to mirror that: an upward tilt at the end as though she really thought people enjoyed being trapped in their tormented psyche.
Archie scarcely looked back, though. He touched down among the customary scattered interior of the study, the tug on his familiar bond stronger than ever. "Douxie," he said, and hopped up on Merlin's table, trying to catch the boy's eye.
Douxie was slowly sweeping, eyes unfocused. His broom—as unreal as his purple wisp of a form—passed uselessly through the tattered books and ever-present dust. Its silence was almost more unnerving than Douxie's blank look. The boy was scarcely quiet, always humming or listening to music, or even just relishing the quiet shff-shff of a broom across wood floor.
Claire landed beside him, and extended a hand to catch Douxie's arm. She passed right though him, the wisp of his spirit unaware of her motion. "Teach," she reached out again, just shy of his arm. "Can you hear me?"
"…apprentice must listen, an apprentice must learn—"
Arch bit his lip as he came to realize Douxie wasn't as silent as it had first seemed. The boy was muttering, expression blank, and Archie recognized the words with a pang. "Never learn by taking shortcuts." The voice was Douxie's, but the words had been Merlin's—yelled or demanded at every hour, for each menial task Douxie had labored over as an apprentice.
"Douxie, I know there's still a piece of you in there," Archie walked closer. The tug was still present, but there was no response through it. This shade of Douxie had no expression, no life—just endless motion motivated by the endless weight of chores he'd borne since becoming Merlin's apprentice.
"I have to follow Merlin, need to get stronger. Can't be a Master Wizard if the study's still dusty. Sweep, and mop, and dust, sort and sweep again." Douxie's voice lacked all of its usual life, its melody and tone. It rang hollow. Archie hated every syllable.
"Teach, listen to me," Claire tried again, her hand passing through his shoulder.
"He's too far gone."
Archie flinched. He hadn't realized Morgana had floated close enough to hear behind them.
Claire gave her a glare, but Archie turned back to his familiar without deigning to give her a response. Their familiar bond was still there. Douxie wasn't gone. He couldn't be.
"Doux," he began, quiet. "Do you remember before Merlin? We stumbled through so many towns. Stay long enough to earn a bit of coin, ditch before anyone could wise up to your tricks or figure out we were magic."
Claire and Morgana both looked at him with surprise, but Archie watched his familiar. "You taught me a lot of cons, back then. I kept you from doing anything too stupid, but you were the one who knew the card tricks. I didn't do much shifting before I met you. But to keep you safe, to help keep the cons going, I got comfortable quick. I think you always worried you were corrupting me, but let me tell you, my rebellious streak began long before you taught me to play card tricks." Archie just hoped Douxie could hear him. Maybe it was just his imagination, but he thought Douxie's sweeping was slowing. His stride was more contemplative. "We had a lot of fun back then.
"Remind me, what kind of con did we pull the day we met Merlin?"
For one moment, there was no reaction. But then the faintest smirk creased his mouth, and Douxie paused sweeping long enough to respond. "Lad o' Fortune. Keep your eye on the prize."
Archie grinned at him. "That's right. Find the ball…"
"…To win it all." Douxie finished. He didn't make eye contact, but it was enough of a reaction to make Archie move closer. He wound his way past the books scattering the floor. He took a deep breath, and leapt up, aiming for his normal perch on Douxie's shoulder—he didn't know until he landed if he would make contact or not, but Archie's paws found their usual spots, and Arch gently headbutted Douxie.
"Arch?" Douxie whispered. "You're still here."
Finally, Douxie met his eyes. The familiar bond thrummed with a brief brush of energy, and Arch felt a moment of surety, of success.
"Of course I'm still here. Everyone else is, too, back in the real world. Merlin's waiting for you."
A faint smile flickered across Douxie's face. "Merlin, waiting on me? That's a change."
"Teach, come back with us." Claire stepped closer. "We can fix all this."
Douxie's face clouded for a moment. "But I can't go. I have to—" A brief look of pain crossed his face, and then he blinked away the confusion, the brief flash of unnatural rage which overtook the familiar bond. Douxie looked around at the tower, as though it would give him an answer. "I think I have to finish sweeping first. He'll never forgive me if his study is still dusty."
Archie exchanged a look with Claire. It seemed that he was still stuck in the fantasy of the shadow. He didn't remember what happened—but when he'd thought about it, that pain had returned.
"Douxie, how about we finish sweeping later? Show me the new version of Rose of Ambrosius you're working on."
Douxie glanced over at the corner. His lute lay there, untouched among the wreckage of the study. For a moment, Archie thought he would, but then Douxie shook his head. "I shouldn't. This is all I'm good for. If I try to do anything else, I'll just fail again."
"Again?" Claire asked, when Archie was too busy internally cursing to respond.
"Like…"
"No, Douxie," Archie sat up. He was hoping Douxie would continue to block out the more recent memories.
But then Douxie's face twisted, and his eyes flashed blood red. He winced, and the familiar bond was overtaken by a jolt of pain.
Douxie curled in on himself, dropping the broom and forcing Archie off his shoulder as he flinched in pain. As the red magic dragged him back, his form changed—his medieval garb replaced with spiky, eerie armor. It was unlike anything Douxie would ever willingly wear, and looked more like the harsh lines of Morgana's armor. "Douxie," Archie called. "Fight it!"
The armor disappeared and it was just Douxie again, but his eyes were still red. He was recoiling from the magic, from whatever was causing the pain to reverberate through the familiar bond. The armor flickered back to existence around him, this time with a spiked, ornate helmet clamped firmly upon his head. Douxie groaned and continued to stumble back, but this time he made eye contact with Archie, then Claire.
"Arch? Help me!" His voice was rough, the words forced out from him with none of his usual grace.
"Teach!" Claire stepped closer, and Archie followed.
"Doux, I'm still here, you're still here, don't let go! We're all coming for you."
But his familiar continued to yell, flinching away. The armor was more solid now, its shoulder barbs lengthened and Douxie's motions restricted by the unfamiliar bulk. It gained a yellow tint, its color vibrant and sickly next to the purple shadow and stark in comparison to the soft blue which Archie was used to seeing.
Douxie straightened up under the weight of the unfamiliar armor, his posture unnaturally straight and his outline distorted by the spikes and density of the plates and chainmail. It was a chilling figure: a helmet like Morgana's obscuring the slopes of his face, shoulderpads like weapons, and a chestplate carved with ancient runes. His eyes were still familiar, but only just—lit from within with a sickly yellow that shrieked in a way opposite from his magic's usual refrain.
Douxie reached down and grabbed the broom, which shifted to the shape of his wizard's staff as he raised it to point directly at Archie and Claire. There was no emotion in his eyes.
Archie's familiar bond was aflame.
A wave of magic burst from his staff, but Archie ducked away. It was of such force that it sent books and rubble scattering, even sent the tower spinning. Claire and Archie were flung off it from the force of the magic explosion, and Arch managed to right himself in time to look back and see his familiar, staff still raised in their direction.
It was Morgana's catch that kept them from spinning endlessly into the black, and the three of them drifted away from the construct of Merlin's tower, watching Douxie's golden figure stand motionless atop it, shrinking into the distance.
"We cannot stay here!" Morgana said.
"Douxie was in there!" Claire protested. "Which means we can save him!"
"We can't reach him here," Archie said. "But now we know he's still fighting!"
Morgana turned away from them. "If there's hope for him, there's hope for my brother." She began to descend again, faster this time, and Archie thought he heard her mumble something else.
/
Morgana found him—following whispers of "Guinevere" and dodging between rocks. She belonged down here, at ease and swift, able to find what she was looking for. Claire and Archie followed, Claire subdued but Archie finding even more steel inside himself, more surety that his familiar was recoverable.
Arthur was fighting a purple shadow monster in the familiar Wild Woods. Morgana's voice was surprisingly demonstrative as she reached out for him—and Archie felt himself soften ever so slightly for her, for the way she begged him to "Rest" and "Be at peace." The Arthur which Archie had known had certainly been a relentless fighter, driven constantly by the need to protect others and then by the grief of losing his wife. But Morgana's eyes were honest as she pled with him to rest.
Arthur was more lucid than Douxie—spoke with clarity, though his eyes were deader than they'd ever been in life.
But then he turned on her, began to advance. Archie and Claire, following far behind, heard little of his explanation, but they saw Morgana begin to retreat. Arthur's stride was smooth, lethal, in a way it had never been in life.
"I see now the only path to redemption is the Order's—" Claire drifted closer, her face in a scowl at Arthur's words as the King's purple shade began to flicker to the twisted armor of the Knight. "—to wipe the world clean and begin again."
"No, no," Morgana was begging again, face twisted in an unfamiliar expression—this time, fear. "I fought for magic's freedom, not destruction. You spent your whole life fighting magic, yet now you serve powerful demigods who seek to destroy everything! The Order has twisted your desires."
"I still want you on my side," came the Knight's raspy voice. "You could take down Merlin. You would stand by my side and watch as the Order ushers in the new dawn."
"No," Morgana responded, and as the Knight's figure solidified into the gray reality, and raised a hand with golden magic to try and drive him back as he continued to advance on her. "Brother… what has become of us?"
Archie and Claire shared a look as the Knight raised his sword. They needed no discussion.
Together they swooped down and saved Morgana, and the three of them fled the construct of the Wild Wood.
Archie knew the Knight remained there below them, a stark reminder of the bleak world awaiting them outside the Shadow Realm.
"Handmaiden."
Morgana's voice was quiet, her posture ever so slightly slumped. Archie found himself remembering the way she'd once supported Douxie in his studies when he got discouraged by Merlin's harsh words.
"I have no right to ask you anything, but I have an offer—a binding promise and deal."
Claire exchanged a look with him, but without needing words, they looked back at the shadow witch.
Before Morgana continued, she glanced back to where they had left Arthur. "It was so quiet. So peaceful." Morgana murmured. "My rest. It was finally quiet after I died. But then I heard Arthur. He's chained, much as I was. I can't let them do that to him.
"If you bring me back to the real world," Morgana finally met their eyes, "if you can help me regain some foothold in the world… I will help you fight back against the Order and stop their plan. And once I have freed Arthur, I will return here. To my rest."
"You'll have to know that Merlin will require a sealed vow for that," Archie replied.
"And I will give it," Morgana said.
Archie and Claire looked at each other again. They were getting pretty good at the whole nonverbal communication thing. Their shared concern for Douxie seemed to have put them on the same wavelength.
Claire extended a hand and summoned a portal back to the real world.
/
Merlin had expected Charlemagne to gently bully him. He had expected him to eagerly ask for updates on his son, and to look somber upon hearing of Douxie's corruption. Merlin had hoped the old dragon would agree to guard the Seals for him, but was unsurprised that he did not agree. Their meeting had been swift, and Merlin had tried to pretend that the tea Charlemagne made for him had settled the grief behind his sternum.
He had not expected, upon his return, to be greeted by the shade of his previous apprentice.
There had been a very brief, very tense stand-off. It was offset by the way Steve and Nari were both sitting atop the still-floating boxes, how Krel and Blinky were neck-deep in research, and how Jim, Claire, and Toby had fallen asleep in a pile on one of the couches. Morgana had been floating an inch above a stool, with Archie watching her like a hawk.
Honestly, he should have expected worse. Merlin sighed and crossed to sit next to the Trollhunter, startling him awake.
"I presume you came up with some cockamamy plan to retrieve Hisirdoux, having failed to retrieve him directly from the Shadow Realm?"
Jim and Claire sat up, exchanging a look. Jim still had his sword at his side, evidently uncomfortable with Morgana's presence.
"We confirmed that he's still in there," Archie responded. "But, yes. We also came up with a plan to get him back from the Order."
"And it involves resurrecting Morgana, who has previously tried to kill almost every one of us in this room?" Merlin just wanted to watch them squirm before Claire scowled and responded.
"Well, we didn't know you could resurrect her… And she offered her help. To stop the Knight."
"Why would she care about the Knight?"
Merlin watched Claire and Archie exchange a nervous look. And suddenly he realized the day still could get worse.
/
Archie honestly had not seen Merlin express this many different emotions in the entire time he'd ever known him. The humans and trolls may not have thought it that weird, but both of Merlin's eyebrows had raised at the realization that Arthur was the Knight, and his eyeroll at Jim's plan had been a complete circle. There had been actual grief earlier that day, and now both exasperation and bewilderment! Archie was very impressed to realize that Douxie's master had that many expressions beyond critical and concentrating.
But Merlin had consented to Morgana's help—with a lot less resistance than Archie had expected. Merlin, a flicker of pity on his face, had extended a hand to her shadow form, and made a sealed vow with her, their ancient words echoing with power. Any other situation would have had Archie running for the hills at the prospect of bringing back their old enemy—he knew so many ways this could and would go wrong—but the newfound surety in his chest that Douxie was still recoverable made his usual caution dissipate. Maybe his big heart was why Douxie always took these kind of risks.
Then Merlin had crossed to Jim, and extended a hand cloaked in his green magic. "Trollhunter, I ask that you stand still for a moment. To return Morgana's power, I'll need to access the last piece of her physical body left in the world."
"You need to what now?"
"You used my hand for that?!"
The words were simultaneous, and Merlin turned a vaguely amused look on Jim and a completely unapologetic look upon his old apprentice. "We used Morgana's hand after the battle on the cliff to form part of the amulet. It will merely take a minute, and I will be able to keep the amulet intact and unaffected. At this point," he grinned slightly, "the amulet has a life of its own. It has no need of anyone's magic to sustain it."
Jim still looked apprehensive, and Morgana looked as furious as someone made out of insubstantial wisps of magic could. But Merlin extended his hand and his magic surrounded the circle of the amulet on Jim's chest. For a long minute, he stood there, arm outstretched, blue and green magic merging to a bright white, until Merlin opened his eyes and, with a short motion of his hand, drew out a small golden beam of magic from the white. This he sent spinning over to Morgana—Archie took a moment to be grateful he didn't have to see her severed hand again, just the magical essence of it—who embraced it, and whose form glimmered and strengthened until it gained substance.
Morgana stood before them. With her helmet removed, her eyes downcast, she was scarcely the same person as they'd fought at the Battle of Killahead. She held all the same magical prowess, but it was tempered by the emotion in her face: quiet resolve, not indignant fury.
"Your plan to stride right into the lion's den is foolish, rushed, and honestly pretty predictable." Merlin turned to face the room, commanding it as ever, but Archie knew he wouldn't have returned to them if he had given up on Douxie as he professed to. "But it is certainly what my apprentice would do."
"No offense, but following Douxie's lead was a pretty good idea back in Camelot," Jim said. Claire, beside him, glared. "Yeah, what he said, but with offense."
"Bring Morgana with you. The Order is overconfident, unused to resistance. They may underestimate you long enough for you to retrieve my apprentice and Arthur. Without them, it will significantly hamper their progress, and we will have bolstered ranks to continue this fight another day," Merlin instructed.
"You're not coming?" Steve stepped forward.
"I must secure the Seals," he responded. "I have them hidden, but we cannot risk losing them, or Nari. With some help, I believe Archie will be able to fool the Order long enough for your ruse to work. Nari should remain with me."
"We can't risk that—" "And what if they aren't fooled and kill us on the spot?" "We won't let them take Nari too—" "Merlin, I would like to—"
But the Master Wizard raised his hand. "If I know Hisirdoux, he would not allow mortals to come to harm at his expense. If we lost her, that would spell the end for the world. I will not compromise Nari."
The youths backed off, subdued, at his words, and Archie had to agree he had a point. But Nari herself stepped forward, the small figure belying the deep conviction and great power she'd displayed earlier.
"Merlin, thank you for hiding me all these centuries. But I wish to help. I could help them find their way in the Order's castle, and avoid the main confrontation."
"Nari—"
"No," Nari shook her head. Her eyes glowed brighter, and Archie could feel the surge of magic as her emotions flared. "You must protect the Seals as you see fit. I must follow my own heart."
It looked like Merlin would argue, mouth open and the expected I'm-the-Master-Wizard-here-Hisirdoux expression on his face, but to Archie's surprise, he just sighed after a moment, and turned away. "As you must, Nari. As I said, your chances of success are not nonexistent. But our chances of dying horribly increase exponentially if the Order has any access to the Seals. I must go and protect them."
Nari inclined her head to the old wizard, smiling ever so slightly. Archie couldn't help but think that she was one of few beings who had maybe ever won an argument with him.
"Then it's decided," Jim said. "We all know the plan. We should go soon, before the night's over and we lose track of the Order, or before they find us first."
"One question!" Steve clanked his way over. He still wore Camelot's armor, and it suited him better than Archie cared to admit, but his expression was one similar to when Archie'd threatened him with "quasits". "The plan is to go into the bitey devil castle?"
Claire sighed, and Jim rolled his eyes. "Yes, Steve."
"Into the bitey devil castle," Archie repeated. "First the Shadow Realm, now this. Next time, let's get attacked somewhere near a beach."
A/N: welp that was an unexpected 6 month hiatus! i'm so sorry! but thank you all SO MUCH for commenting and reading this while i got my life together. it's been a wild year yo
that being said, i am still working on this! y'all's support means more than i can say and i promise i'm going to keep chugging away at this fic until its finished!
and yes i was mostly inspired to get my ass in gear because the new rott footage looks so good! guys i can't wait for this movie ahhhh
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ngl most of the editing when I write archie or merlin sections is looking up a thesaurus to make them use longer, more sciency-sounding words. If it's not over two syllables, I can't believe archie would think it.
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also again this is where the real AU territory is so i hope y'all like the changes i'm making, i'll make a longer note once I'm done about why I changed what I did.
have a good day my dudes!