A/N: New fic! Just three chapters here, but then I have some longer fics in the queue. ^_^
Part I
The Shade made its way through the forest toward Camelot. The board was set, and he was the black knight that would infiltrate the game and destroy the Queen. This was his sole purpose, the reason he had been summoned from beyond the grave, to do as his mistress commanded.
He was brought up short in his singleminded path by a baby dragon swooping down and landing on a rock in front of him. It was pure white and about the size of a peacock with wings extended. The creature cocked its head at the Shade curiously, then flapped and squeaked in agitation. He merely stared back for a moment, then tried to go around and continue on his mission.
The small dragon squawked and lumbered after him, darting in front of his feet and impeding his path. The Shade stopped again. He couldn't let anything get in his way, so he drew his sword to strike down the irritating creature. The baby dragon canted its head at him again. Then it made a clucking sound and exhaled a gust of warm breath in his face. The unexpected power behind it tore through him, ripping at the seams of dark magic. And suddenly he was Lancelot.
He choked and dropped to his knees as oxygen seared his throat and lungs. Cold tendrils flailed inside him, and he clutched at his sternum in shock and confusion. The baby dragon came closer and trilled tentatively before breathing in his face again.
There was more tearing as magic coursed through him, and an inhuman shriek rattled inside his head. But more of himself was leaking through the cracks, and with one last snap of binding cords, the Shade dissipated. Lancelot was in control of his body again.
Or, well, possession, not control. He fell onto his side, shaking violently and sweating as his chest juddered trying to gasp in air. The baby dragon closed the rest of the distance and crooned softly before gently breathing over him again. And this time instead of pain, the warm breath soothed some of his raw nerves.
Lancelot lay there for several long minutes, shell-shocked. The small dragon nudged his shoulder, and he turned his head up to blink dubiously at her. Her eyes sparkled as she blinked back at him. He slowly pushed himself up and looked around the woods. He had no idea where he was or how he'd gotten here. He pressed a palm to his head as he fought to clear the fog in his mind, but everything was swirling around too fast, he couldn't seem to grasp onto any solid thought. The only thing he knew for certain was that it wasn't safe here, though he didn't know why.
So he pushed himself the rest of the way to his feet and lurched off in a random direction. He whipped his gaze around in a frantic attempt to orient himself, but it wasn't working. Fear nipped at his heels, driving him into a frenzied pace that only added to his panic and caused him to start hyperventilating.
The baby dragon scampered after him, sometimes taking wing to catch up. Lancelot couldn't pay much attention to her right then. All rational thought was beyond him as intense fear propelled him forward until he finally found a cave that offered some manner of concealed shelter. He stumbled inside and collapsed on the ground again. A distant thought wondered about wild animals already living in here, but he couldn't care too much about that either.
The dragon waddled in and sat next to him, eyeing him curiously as he focused on calming his breathing. She trilled at him, but he couldn't acknowledge her just yet. He was still shaking. Or shivering, he wasn't sure. Cold was creeping into his limbs. He should do something, but he couldn't think of what.
Warmth, he needed warmth. Lancelot lifted himself up again with strenuous effort and fumbled around the cave floor for whatever stray leaves and twigs were within reach. He pushed them all into a small pile, but then faltered. How was he going to light it? The knowledge was there on the cusp of his jumbled memories, but he couldn't grasp it.
The baby dragon backed up and spewed a stream of fire at the kindling, lighting it with one whoosh. Lancelot reflexively jerked back in fright, though it was clear she was only trying to help.
"Thank you," he said, his voice sounding oddly distant to his own ears.
He scooted close to the fire and huddled there, still trying to get his thoughts to settle. But they wouldn't. Everything felt fractured. He'd get glimpses of faces he knew but they'd flit out of his grasp before he could remember the names that went with them. The only one he knew for sure was his own.
"I'm Lancelot," he said out loud, partly to himself and partly to his strange rescuer.
The baby dragon chirped back.
Dusk fell, and Lancelot managed to get on his feet again and go outside to gather more kindling for the night. The dragon stayed with him. He didn't really know what to make of her. He had a vague recollection of dragons being evil? Or at least fearsome. This one didn't appear either of those. And her company was reassuring.
He sat in front of his meager campfire and recited out loud the things he could remember. "My name is Lancelot. I'm a knight of Camelot."
Camelot. He should try to get to Camelot. But he didn't remember the way and it wasn't safe out there to go wandering about. Someone had brought him back and would be looking for him.
Brought him back…back from where?
The breath punched from his lungs as he remembered a tear in the fabric of the world, of walking into it with arms outstretched…a voice screaming behind him as he died.
Lancelot wrapped his arms around his knees and sat with that revelation for a while. He'd been dead, and now he wasn't. Someone had brought him back from the dead. Why? Not for anything good, that much he knew. Because he was filled with an inexplicable dread at the memory of something inhabiting his body before…before it suddenly wasn't.
Lancelot rubbed at his face. He was wrung out, and so he finally lay down to try to sleep. The baby dragon curled up next to him, and Lancelot felt safe for the night.
Young dragons were free spirits, and so Kilgharrah didn't attempt to corral Aithusa, but he made a habit of checking on her once in a while. He soared over Albion, mentally calling for his long lost kin. She responded with a querying chord. She was still too young for language, but she could transmit feelings and images mentally. She sent Kilgharrah directions to the cave she was hunkered down in. Puzzled by this, he changed course and landed outside the entrance. It was too small for his great bulk, so he snaked his head down and peered inside.
Few things surprised the Great Dragon in his old age, but he was quite stunned to find Aithusa encamped with Sir Lancelot. The knight scrambled backward and cowered away from him.
"Sir Lancelot," Kilgharrah greeted. "This is very unexpected." The man had given up his life to close the Veil.
The knight's brows furrowed. "You know me?"
Kilgharrah frowned. "We have met," he reminded him.
Lancelot looked confused for a prolonged beat before he replied, "I think I remember that."
Kilgharrah canted his head in deep consideration, piqued by this unforeseen turn of events. Then he got a whiff of the dark magic lingering around the knight. "You were brought back as a revenant," he said. "And yet…you are not one now."
Lancelot merely looked befuddled, so Kilgharrah arched a questioning brow ridge at Aithusa. She chirped enthusiastically.
"Why are you in this cave?" Kilgharrah asked the knight.
"I don't know where to go. Everything in my head is…all twisted around. I remember you, but not where or when we met."
Kilgharrah hummed thoughtfully. "I will call for Merlin."
Lancelot quirked a look at that, like he was trying to remember that name.
Kilgharrah was rather concerned by this development, and he was hesitant to leave Aithusa here undefended, but Merlin needed to be alerted. So he backed up out of the cave and took flight toward the city of Camelot so he could summon the young warlock.
The second day of the tournament was as bustling as the first. Merlin was running around nonstop with his duties in addition to keeping Arthur's armor and gear in pristine, sparkling condition. He noticed Agravaine looking anxious and agitated and wondered what had gotten in his craw. Merlin knew he wasn't happy about Arthur asking Gwen for her hand in marriage, but Arthur had shut down his uncle's protests. Nothing was going to get in the way of him marrying the woman he loved, regardless of her station.
Merlin finished carrying Arthur's armor down to his tent and was laying it out when he received a mental call from Kilgharrah. He tried to ignore it, since this was a really bad time. But the Great Dragon was being persistent. It was unfortunate Merlin couldn't mentally communicate back that he was busy and to leave him alone.
"It is a matter of great importance to you, personally," the dragon relayed.
Merlin clenched his jaw in frustration and resigned himself to getting in trouble as he snuck away from the tournament and headed away from the castle. He had to go all the way around and further afield so no one in the tournament would spot the Great Dragon nearby. Kilgharrah came in to land once Merlin arrived.
"Sir Lancelot has been resurrected," he said without preamble.
Merlin stared at him in incomprehension. "What?"
"I do not have details, but I can take you to him."
Merlin gaped at the Great Dragon, wondering if he was trying to trick him. This type of ruse wasn't Kilgharrah's style, yet how could Lancelot be alive? Merlin couldn't ignore it, though, so he hastily climbed up on Kilgharrah's head and the dragon launched them into the sky.
Kilgharrah carried him to a cave in the woods and set down outside it. "Inside," he directed.
Merlin ventured in, guard up. But then he froze in utter stupefaction at the sight of not only Lancelot, alive and in the flesh, but also little Aithusa. He was so stunned, he couldn't even form words.
Lancelot's brows knitted together. "I know you." He paused. "Merlin."
Merlin floundered for a response. "Lancelot? What- how?"
Lancelot's face pinched in distress. "I don't know. I can't make sense of anything. It's all twisted around." He pressed a fist to the side of his head. Then he straightened. "But I remember now why I walked into the Veil. It was to save you."
Merlin's heart constricted with the pain of guilt and regret. He swallowed hard around the lump in his throat as he inched closer and knelt down in front of his friend. "How are you back?"
Lancelot blanched. "I don't know. I was…there was this…thing that was me, but not me. I can't remember it clearly." He grabbed a fistful of hair again. "And then it was ripped away and I was myself again, but everything's turned around and pieces are missing—"
"Okay, okay," Merlin interrupted, tentatively reaching out to touch his elbow. "It's okay, just breathe."
Lancelot inhaled shakily.
"Only a shade can be resurrected," Kilgharrah put in. "But it seems Aithusa's intervention banished the evil revenant and freed Sir Lancelot's soul from enslavement."
Merlin's blood ran cold at that. "Morgana." It had to be her.
Lancelot visibly flinched. "I…I think I remember her," he stammered. "That's why I had to hide, so she wouldn't find me again."
"The shade she bound to her will is gone," Kilgharrah said. "She cannot enslave your soul again."
That was good to know, though Lancelot didn't look easily reassured.
"We should get you back to Camelot," Merlin said, taking both his arms and coaxing him to stand.
On their way out of the cave, Lancelot stopped and looked down.
"Aithusa, is it?"
She bobbed her head happily.
"Thank you for helping me. And staying this whole time."
She preened in response.
"Thanks for calling me," Merlin said to Kilgharrah.
The Great Dragon inclined his head. "Take care, young warlock."
Kilgharrah departed, calling for Aithusa to come as well, which left Merlin and Lancelot to return to Camelot on foot.
As they made the trek, Merlin's mind was awhirl with what Morgana could have brought Lancelot back for. No doubt the timing of Arthur asking Gwen to marry him had something to do with it. She was loath to see anyone else on "her" throne.
At least Lancelot was free from her clutches and her machinations wouldn't come to pass. But he was obviously still shaken and messed up from the whole ordeal.
"What are we going to tell everyone?" Merlin mused aloud.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, we can't tell Arthur a baby dragon saved you."
"Why not?"
Merlin pulled up short. "You do remember anything associated with magic is illegal in Camelot and considered evil?" he asked worriedly.
Lancelot stopped and thought about it for a moment, then slowly nodded. "Yes, I remember that."
Merlin tensed, suddenly wondering if Lancelot remembered he had magic.
Lancelot appeared to still be deep in thought, and Merlin waited with bated breath. Then he looked up.
"You have magic."
Merlin nodded nervously. "Yes, but it's a secret."
Lancelot nodded along. "I've kept it all this time."
Merlin exhaled in relief. "Yes, you have. You're my best friend."
Lancelot gave himself a small shake. "I'm sorry, I don't know why I'm so mixed up."
"You've been through a major ordeal, dying and then coming back from the dead. Which we still need to explain somehow."
"I didn't die," Lancelot said abruptly. "I somehow ended up in the far north, severely weak. Some nomads took me in, nursed me back to health. It took me this long to regain my strength enough to return to Camelot."
Merlin frowned. "What are you talking about? You said you were resurrected. So did Kilgharrah."
Lancelot gave himself another shake. "I- I don't know where that came from. It's not a memory. It's a…" His brows knitted together in puzzlement. "I think I'm supposed to say that, when I return to Camelot."
"That's the tale Morgana wanted the shade to give," Merlin deduced. "Which means we're not going to use it. I'll think of something."
By the time they arrived at the castle, it sounded like today's phase of the tournament had concluded. Merlin tried to sneak them in, but as they were crossing the courtyard, Arthur's voice bellowed through the air.
"Merlin!"
He drew up short with a grimace and turned as Arthur stormed toward them. But before Arthur could blast Merlin for dereliction of duty, he also came to an abrupt stop and gaped at Lancelot.
Lancelot bowed stiffly. "My lord."
Arthur's jaw was slack. "How is this possible?"
"I don't know," Merlin quickly answered. "I just found him wandering outside the city, like he was lost. He seems to remember us, but he's kind of…confused." Which was not a lie.
Arthur continued to look gobsmacked, but he managed to form enough words to direct them inside to the council chambers, and he summoned the other knights of his inner circle, Gwen, and Gaius. Everyone was understandably amazed.
"Is it really you?" Elyan asked.
Lancelot nodded. "Well, mostly?"
"He's having some problems with his memory," Merlin explained.
Gaius stepped forward to look Lancelot over.
Then Agravaine burst in, seemingly out of breath. "Arthur, I just heard…" His gaze went to Lancelot and studied him carefully.
Lancelot didn't say anything or react, but Merlin's suspicions were instantly pricked.
"It's indeed a miracle," Arthur replied. He gestured to Lancelot. "What can you tell us?"
"I don't remember much," Lancelot started. "I remember dying, and being brought back, but the latter was like I was merely an observer in my own body. I- I was with Morgana for a while."
They all visibly tensed at that.
"Morgana brought you back?" Leon exclaimed.
"What did she want?" Arthur asked.
"Where is she?"
"I'm sorry, I don't remember anything specific," Lancelot said, becoming distraught.
"Let's let him finish before we ask questions," Gwen put in kindly.
Arthur nodded in concession and beckoned for Lancelot to continue.
"I wasn't in control. Then I was in the woods on my way here and I…encountered something. I don't remember what, but I was suddenly myself again. But everything was jumbled and I couldn't remember the way back to Camelot. I wandered for a while…until Merlin found me. I'm sorry, that really is all I know."
Arthur nodded soberly as they all processed the information.
"You appear to be in good health, considering," Gaius interjected.
Arthur stepped forward. "You've been dearly missed, my friend. It's good to have you back."
Lancelot nodded gratefully.
"Merlin, find him some chambers." Arthur grimaced. "Yours were, regrettably, reassigned. After…"
"Right. Of course," Lancelot said.
Merlin took his arm to lead him out of the room, noting that Agravaine looked very unbalanced by all this. So whatever plot Morgana had hatched, he knew about it. Which meant Morgana would know soon too that it had failed. But Kilgharrah had said she couldn't bind Lancelot's soul again, so at least he was safe in that regard.
Merlin knew which chambers were vacant and picked one near the other knights to house Lancelot in, sticking around to see him completely settled.
Lancelot still seemed anxious, though.
"Hey," Merlin broached. "About Agravaine…"
Lancelot's brows furrowed. "What about him?"
"Do you…remember anything about him?"
Lancelot's frown deepened for a long moment, then his eyes widened. "He was with Morgana. I think. I don't know."
"He's definitely working with her," Merlin confirmed. "But I haven't been able to find any proof and Arthur doesn't believe me. But if you saw him with her…"
Lancelot shook his head in growing distress. "I see glimpses at a lake, then inside Morgana's lair. And I see Agravaine's face in the shadows, but…it goes away as quickly as it comes."
Merlin pursed his mouth. "I'm sure it's just temporary disorientation from being…dead."
"Why? Have anyone to compare it to?" Lancelot rejoined ruefully.
Merlin's lips quirked. "You did always like to break the mold."
Lancelot's mouth ticked upwards as well, but then fell again. "I should tell Arthur."
"Not yet." Merlin let out a sound of frustration. "I've already tried and he refuses to believe his uncle would betray him. And I hate to say it, but as long as you're still…confused…about things, it'll cast doubt on your story. We should wait until you're better and you can testify against him in confidence."
Lancelot's throat bobbed. "What if I don't get better?" he asked in a subdued voice.
"Don't think like that. You're home, and you're safe, and we'll help you get sorted."
Lancelot nodded mutely. "Thank you, Merlin."
"I'm really glad you're back too." He'd been holding it in since finding Lancelot in that cave, but he finally moved forward and pulled his best friend into a hug. Lancelot brought his arms up to hold on.
They'd get through this. Lancelot was alive and that was all that mattered.
