It felt good, carrying a sword again. Arthur had felt vulnerable, almost naked without a weapon. Merlin's sword was a bit shorter and lighter than he preferred for himself, but it was dragon-forged steel, sharp and swift. A trusty blade, which had already proven itself against the many beasts of the Crystal Cave.

They were walking again, ever forward into the black nothingness that was the cave. Not for the first time, Arthur found himself eyeing Merlin's sphere of light carefully. He didn't like the thought of it suddenly disappearing and plunging them into darkness, and Merlin's words about doing magic in his sleep had done little to reassure him.

Arthur knew he should be keeping all of his attention on his surroundings, which had proven rather deadly between the wolves and wilddeoren, but he felt his thoughts drifting back to what Merlin had told him earlier.

They were here because of a prophecy. Arthur knew many people were superstitious, but he never would have thought somebody like Balinor would subscribe to soothsaying. Merlin had voiced some doubts about the prophecy's accuracy, but did not seem to seriously question the idea of having a foretold destiny, either.

Merlin, a mighty warrior. On first glance, he really didn't seem to fit that description and Arthur had had to suppress a derisive snort when Merlin had said it out loud.

But his magic undoubtedly made him a formidable fighter in non-traditional ways. Arthur had had that thought before: Merlin, a different breed of warrior. The dragonlord could call up storms and rain down fire, so perhaps that part of the prophecy was true. Arthur didn't know the limits of Merlin's control of dragonfyre, but he had trained enough knights to see that all Merlin lacked were confidence and real combat experience.

They should all be glad Merlin sought peace and seemed to eschew violence if possible. If Merlin set his mind to it, he could likely defeat almost any opponent with the powers at his disposal.

Merlin had subdued him before, but Arthur's hands had been bound and he hadn't expected the magic. Up until today, Arthur had still been confident that, given better circumstances, he could take Merlin out. Now, having seen Merlin in action, Arthur wasn't so sure he could hold his own against Merlin with just a sword. If Merlin started to blast magic at him in earnest…

Suddenly, he could see it clearly before his inner eye: Merlin, at the edge of a battlefield, his eyes angry and bright ablaze as he called up storms, mercilessly blasted Camelot's knights off their horses, his dragons spitting fire from above to incinerate their army. Arthur shuddered at the horrible vision.

Really, Camelot could call herself lucky that Balinor seemed blind to the potential in his own son. Balinor would have been wise to focus on honing Merlin's magical skills instead of forcing him to retrieve a mythical sword that might or might not exist.

Merlin was a dangerous weapon himself. All that held him back were ideals and insecurities.

"Sire."

Arthur startled and looked around. Somehow, Leon, Elyan and Arthur had ended up at the end of the group, separated from Merlin and his men by two or three steps. They were letting their guard down and Leon, First Knight for a reason, had jumped on the opportunity to talk strategy.

"I know what you're thinking, Leon," Arthur murmured. "But we haven't got a torch, and the dragons are guarding the entrance to the cave."

"Of course, my lord, but now that we have weapons, we should at least consider—"

"I am considering it. It's not the right time."

Leon looked at him intensely. "Pardon my bluntness, sire, but we had every opportunity to try and escape during the wyvern attack, and you did not consider it then."

Arthur was taken aback by Leon's frankness. It wasn't like him to question his prince so openly and Arthur found himself thinking back to reassess the situation. They had had no weapons and no horses, true. But their hands had been unbound, they had carried some equipment, the dragons had been out of sight, and Merlin and his men had been kept busy.

"You're right," he said and could see Leon visibly relax at his admission. "We could have run."

"Why didn't we?"

Arthur hesitated. "It was still a risk, with the wyverns at large." Leon raised his eyebrows sceptically. "Perhaps I was too curious about this quest," Arthur allowed.

Elyan, until then a silent spectator, spoke up carefully, "Curious about the quest? Or curious about Merlin, sire?"

Arthur frowned at him as he murmured, "What do you mean?"

"The way you talked to him earlier. You're starting to trust him."

Arthur shook his head, but Leon seemed to agree, "You trust him, and you think he is right about the war. You're considering negotiations for peace, aren't you?"

Arthur wanted to deny it outright, but now that Leon had said the words, he found they did ring true. Peace had to be an option as much a victory. Perhaps it was their only option, considering what Arthur had come to realise about Merlin's powers.

He squared his shoulders and murmured, "Would it be so bad? Peace with Balinor and his people?"

Elyan scowled. "Impossible."

"Between Balinor and my father, perhaps. But between Merlin and I?"

"Sire—" Leon started, but Arthur cut him off.

"Have you looked at Merlin? Have you actually watched him fight? His magic is incredible."

"Which is exactly why we should never trust him," Elyan argued.

"Don't you see? Merlin has every potential to wreak havoc on the battlefield," Arthur urged, while still trying to keep his voice down. "He calls on the elements, he controls wind and fire. What do you believe will happen if he ever thinks to send a tornado of flames to take down a battalion of archers?"

"We have always found ways to combat their magic, my lord," Leon replied.

"The weak magic of his warriors, yes. The magic that can only be used when they are with their dragons. What damage have they ever done beyond a bit of additional sabotage? Merlin looks to be capable of much more than cutting ropes or tripping up some horses."

Leon turned his eyes on Merlin, who was walking up front, clearly considering what Arthur had said, but their whispered conversation had finally drawn the attention of Merlin's men. Gwaine and Percival looked over their shoulders. They immediately stopped and let their group pass until they were walking behind, cutting off their conversation.

"I'm watching you, dragonslayer," Percival said from behind. "Don't get any ideas with that sword."

They continued in silence. The cave was growing quite narrow and soon, they were forced to walk in a line as the cave turned into a slim tunnel.

"This might be the end of it," Gwaine suggested from behind.

"No," Merlin called from the front, his voice echoing eerily off the walls, "I see light up ahead. There's something there."

Merlin's sphere of light dimmed, then suddenly vanished. Alarmed, Arthur blinked as his eyes adjusted to the change, but then he saw the light in the distance and calmed. Merlin was right. There was something there. After another minute of walking, the tunnel widened again and Arthur's mouth went slack when he saw what awaited them.

It was an enormous chamber with a high ceiling and a large lake at its centre, which covered at least half of the ground. The water emitted an eerie, orange light, as if the liquid itself was aglow with some mysterious fire. Hundreds of crystals in all shapes and sizes covered every inch of the walls and ceiling, reflecting the shine of the pond. On first glance, it looked like the whole chamber was aflame.

As Arthur let his eyes wander over the glimmering water, he spotted an island right in the middle of the lake, made of crystals and rock. And on top, sticking out of a large stone—

"Excalibur!" Merlin gasped.

"I can't believe it," Lancelot exclaimed.

Gwaine let out a disbelieving chuckle. "This is incredible!"

Arthur came to stand next to Merlin and took in their awed expressions. They clearly hadn't truly believed Excalibur existed. Yet here was a sword, in the middle of a lake, sticking out of a stone, just as they had told Arthur. It seemed the legends had been true after all.

"Well, looks like your quest was a success," Arthur said.

"We have to get at it first," Merlin cautioned, but his bright, wide eyes were giving away his excitement.

Percival stepped forward and eyed the glowing water sceptically. "I don't know about you, Merlin, but I'd rather not take a dip in this."

"I don't see another way," Merlin replied and came to crouch at the shore of the lake. The surface was smooth, the water clear in spite of its unnatural shine. "It looks to be quite deep and we have no dragons to fly us across."

He hesitated, then dipped a finger into the water. It rippled.

And rippled.

Merlin hurriedly got to his feet and stepped away. The ripples had turned into small waves until the whole lake was moving, as if Merlin's touch had disturbed it at its core. This couldn't be good. Arthur had his weapon out in no time and hurriedly retreated from the lake. The others followed suit, their faces equally tense and nervous.

The lake was bubbling now, as if the water had started seething. Suddenly, a figure emerged from the water, just a few paces off the shore.

It was a woman. Her long, dark hair clung to her face in wet curls. She was wearing a fiery red dress that was wrapped tightly around her body, a stark contrast to her colourless skin. Her dark eyes were fixed on them as she came to float just above the water. When she opened her mouth, Arthur half-expected her to scream in rage at having been disturbed, but her voice turned out to be sweet and melodic, carrying easily across the lake.

"The day has come," she called out. "The Great Dragon wants to claim his sword!" The water beneath her feet calmed considerably as she spoke.

Merlin slowly stepped forward, then bowed his head in a show of deference. "It's true, my lady," he replied respectfully. "Who are you, if I may ask?"

"The Lady of the Lake."

Obviously, Arthur thought.

"Will you let us pass, my lady?" Merlin asked.

The lady smiled. "It is not in my power to deter anyone, Emrys, nor is it my will. My task is to wait and watch, as it has always been."

Arthur frowned. Emrys? A look at Merlin confirmed the dragonlord was equally confused by her form of address.

"I'm called Merlin, my lady," he corrected her gently, "and I have come to retrieve Excalibur."

The woman tilted her head, though she kept smiling. "The Great Dragon alone can pull the sword from the stone. It will grant him great powers of which he will prove himself worthy in time."

Merlin hesitated. "Prove worthy how?"

"That is for the Great Dragon to discover."

Arthur found himself frustrated by the lady's vague way of speaking, but Merlin seemed to take her lack of clear answers in stride.

"Is it safe to pass the water?" he asked.

"The water can be protective," the woman said cryptically. She didn't sound threatening and retained her friendly expression, but the words set Arthur on edge.

"What danger lies ahead?" Merlin tried again, but the lady didn't respond this time, only smiled. Clearly, she would not – or could not – help them further with this.

Merlin inclined his head at her, then turned back towards them. "What do you think?"

"I don't like it," Lancelot said immediately, "but whatever you decide to do, you're not going alone."

"I say let us swim," Gwaine proposed. "There's no other way, is there?"

"Couldn't you use your magic?" Arthur thought to suggest. "Build a bridge of some sort?"

Merlin looked at him in surprise. He seemed to think over his words, then looked around with a calculating glance. "Perhaps… if I moved some of the rocks."

Merlin threw another look at the Lady of the Lake as if to ask her permission. She didn't comment, though it was clear she was watching and listening carefully. Merlin raised his hand, lowered it again as he considered something, then raised it higher and called out in dragontongue. No rocks moved. Instead, the crystals around them suddenly lit up brightly, almost blinding in their intensity. Arthur's eyes instinctively snapped shut and when he blinked them open again, Merlin was bent forward, trembling and clutching at his chest.

"Merlin!" Lancelot was by his side a moment later. "What happened?"

"Hurts!" Merlin gasped, his voice barely audible.

The crystals around them dimmed again and Merlin drew in a ragged, desperate breath like he had just been released from a chokehold. He slowly straightened up and ran a shaky hand over his mouth. His face had lost what little colour it had possessed in the first place, making him look gaunt and ghostly.

"I can't use dragonfyre in here," he informed them shakily. "It feels like it's burning me from the inside when I try."

Percival looked angry on Merlin's behalf. He turned and shouted towards the lake, "Why are you hurting him?"

"Peace," the woman said kindly, "it is not of my doing. Dragonfyre has no place here."

"No bridge, then," Arthur commented drily.

Merlin threw him a glare as if this was all his fault, then addressed his men, "Well, swimming it is. But I'm going alone. I told my father I would retrieve Excalibur by myself."

"Who is going to tell him? Besides, you can't defend yourself properly without dragonfyre, Merlin," Gwaine pointed out.

Merlin pressed his mouth into a grim line, but seemed to realise Gwaine had a point. He glanced around, perhaps still gathering his strength, until he eventually came to a decision.

"Fine," he said with an air of defeat about him, "Percival, Lancelot, stay here with Arthur's knights. Arthur, I hope you know how to swim."

"Why on Earth would you want me to come with you?" Arthur asked incredulously.

"I won't have you outnumber my men," Merlin said, and he had a point there. "And give me back that sword, while you're at it. I need a weapon."

"You'll have a new sword soon," Arthur pointed out. He really didn't want to give up the sword again, especially if he was to swim across that creepy-looking lake.

"I sure hope so," Merlin replied, but held out an expectant hand.

Without his magic, Merlin likely couldn't make Arthur do much of anything, but he wasn't about to provoke a fight just now. They were at the heart of the cave and needed Merlin and his sphere of light to make it back outside. Even if Leon and Elyan managed to defeat Merlin's men, they would all be stuck here. With a sigh, he reached for the sword belt and returned the weapon.

Satisfied, Merlin turned towards the lake. "Is there any reason we shouldn't swim in the lake, my lady?" he called out.

But again, the woman didn't respond, only smiled and watched.

Merlin and Gwaine stripped themselves off their cloaks and leather armour, though they all decided to keep on their boots. Getting their shoes wet seemed a better option that having the soles of their feet cut by sharp crystals.

"Here goes nothing, then," Merlin sighed and dipped his foot into the lake.

The water didn't react strangely this time and soon, they were all three neck-deep into the lake and making their way across with broad strokes. The water was surprisingly cold. The warm glow of orange did nothing to increase its temperature. It was completely clear as well, and a glance below showed Arthur there seemed to be nothing at the bottom of the lake but crystals and rocks. They made it safely to the island and climbed up onto the platform without any difficulty, though they were thoroughly soaked and dripping water everywhere.

Arthur ran a hand over his wet fringe as he watched Merlin approach the stone. He studied the sword and Arthur followed his example.

Excalibur had been pushed far into the rock, with only the hilt and perhaps a handbreadth of the blade sticking out. Though it had to be quite old, it had the shine of a weapon recently forged. The hilt was wrapped with smooth brown leather and bands of gold, the pommel was a gleaming disc of the same precious metal. A crystal, not unlike those covering every inch of the walls in this chamber, was set in it, gleaming faintly.

It looked expertly made, a sword fit for a king, though Arthur was sceptical if the weapon really held mythical powers.

"Come on, Merlin," Gwaine urged with a grin as he brushed a wet strand of hair from his face. "Seize your destiny!"

Merlin nodded. He looked both apprehensive and determined as he braced himself. He adjusted his stance against the wet ground, then bravely wrapped his fingers around the hilt – only to jump back with a loud hiss. He cursed colourfully, then stared at this hand, where a streak of red stood out brightly against his pale palm, lined by an impressive scattering of fresh blisters.

"What happened?" asked Gwaine, alarmed.

"I—" Merlin stammered. "It burnt me." He stared at his hand, then the sword, before looking up at them. He looked completely taken aback, his eyes wide with disbelief, and there was a strange note of panic in his voice when he said, "I— I don't understand. Why did it burn me?"

Before either Gwaine or Arthur could respond, there was a sudden, ominous sound of splashing water behind them.

They turned in perfect unison, only to be confronted with the ugliest beast Arthur had ever laid his eyes on. It was a slimy, nasty thing, its hunchback covered in leathery, scaly skin. Its head looked deformed and it had no eyes, only a hideous snout. It was baring a set of sharp, crooked teeth and when it screamed at them, threads of glistening spit clung to its fangs.

Arthur's hand immediately went for his sword, only to realise he was no longer carrying a weapon. He stumbled backwards, then was pushed aside by Gwaine, who took a quick swipe at the beast. It roared in anger and lashed out with one slimy paw. Its limb connected with the sword, but the blade didn't cut the skin. Instead, it slid right off, as if the thick coating of slime could prevent injury.

Arthur glanced at Merlin, who fumbled for his own sword. Arthur took one look at his grip, another at his stance, and knew with sudden clarity that Merlin was a passable swordsman at best. He had trained many a man with a blade and knew a mediocre fighter when he saw one. Merlin's awkward swing at the beast a moment later only confirmed it. He knew the basics of handling a sword, but he wasn't good at it, certainly not a natural like Arthur.

It came as no surprise to Arthur when the beast took one swing at Merlin's sword and sent it flying into the lake. The weapon sunk, never to be seen again, which left Gwaine – already at a disadvantage, as he was used to fighting with two blades – facing the beast alone. His attacks seemed to be doing nothing but angering the beast. The blade kept sliding off its slimy back and it was only a matter of moments until it would disarm Gwaine, too, and be free to attack them directly.

Arthur's eyes fell on Excalibur.

Might as well try, he thought and grabbed the handle.

A surge of warmth travelled up his arm and for a moment, Arthur was convinced the sword would burn him, too. But it wasn't scalding his skin. Instead, it seemed to infuse him with a sense of power that quite literally went straight to his head. Arthur suddenly knew, without a single doubt, that this mighty sword was meant to be his, and his alone.

In one fluid motion, he pulled Excalibur from the stone.

By then, Gwaine had lost his own sword and was desperately scrambling backwards to get away from the creature. Arthur stepped into his place, raised Excalibur and ran the beast right through. Its scream quickly turned into a gurgling sound, then it slowly slipped off the blade and sunk back into the water, disappearing to the bottom of the lake.

Arthur turned at the sound of Merlin's trembling voice.

"You— you pulled it out?" he stammered. His eyes were incredibly wide and blue, his pallor even more striking than before. "You pulled Excalibur from its stone?"

Arthur lowered the sword. "I did."

A strange sound escaped Merlin. At first, Arthur thought it might have been a sob, but when Merlin repeated it, he recognised it as a guffaw. Soon, Merlin's shoulders were shaking with small, sharp burst of hysterical laughter.

"Arthur Pendragon," he managed between his hiccups, "can wield Excalibur. Arthur Pendragon, Uther's son, the master of the famed dragonblade."

"This can't be happening," Gwaine uttered, looking in between Merlin and Arthur in utter disbelief.

"Oh, it's happening," Merlin said. He had stopped laughing, but there was still a manic sort of smile on his face. "This is exactly the kind of thing that would be happening to me." Suddenly, his voice turned bitter and the smile vanished. "I try to do the right thing. I try to save him. I take him on my quest and he steals Excalibur. Destiny is having a great laugh at me right now, I'm sure."

"I didn't steal it," Arthur bristled, feeling strangely affronted. "Excalibur chose me." He looked at the blade, feeling slightly ridiculous as he revealed, "I can feel it. It's supposed to be mine."

"This doesn't make any sense," Gwaine argued. "Excalibur is a dragonblade. You heard the lady! If anyone should have that sword, it should be the Great Dragon, and the Great Dragon is Merlin."

Arthur understood their confusion. Hours ago, he hadn't even known Excalibur existed. Now, he was holding the sword in his hand and felt like he had been made complete. Everything about the sword was perfect: the shape of the hilt, its weight and balance, the length of the blade. Although it seemed impossible, this weapon was clearly made for Arthur.

Poor Merlin here couldn't even hold his sword right. This weapon had never been meant for an average swordsman like him.

"It is done!" Arthur spun around. The Lady of the Lake had approached the island. She was floating right at the edge of the rocks, smiling kindly at them. "Excalibur has been claimed!"

"My lady, I don't understand," Merlin addressed her at once. "The prophecies…"

The lady nodded elegantly. "They foretold this joyful day."

"But," Merlin ventured, "the Great Dragon…"

She looked directly at Arthur. "He has claimed the sword which he is destined to wield."

"But I don't have a destiny, my lady," Arthur told her, "Merlin is the one with the prophecy."

The lady gestured at something behind them. Arthur looked over his shoulder to see she meant the stone Excalibur had been stuck in. Merlin was the first to react. He approached the rock and crouched.

"There's an inscription here," he murmured, almost as if he was talking to himself.

"What does it say?" Arthur asked, stepping up behind him to take a look.

Merlin frowned, but started to read in a tone that seemed to suggest he already knew the words.

Two mothers dead.
Two sons born.
A birth to start a war. A birth to end a war.
And the Great Dragon shall command all dragons. And the fyre of all dragons shall be harnessed by one man.
A great warrior. A great mage.
He shall rally the people and unite the land. He shall offer protection and bring about peace.
He—

Merlin's voice faltered and he stopped.

"We already know all this," said Gwaine impatiently.

"It goes on," Merlin said tightly, then continued, much slower this time.

He shall wield the dragonblade, born to be a king. He shall wield dragonfyre, born to serve the king.
Together, the Great Dragon and Emrys shall herald a new age
.

"The time of the Great Dragon has come," the lady said cheerfully. She curtsied deeply before Arthur, then threw a last look at Merlin. "Don't fret, Emrys! All is as it should be. You will serve your king well."

With those words, she sank back into the lake and vanished, leaving nothing but clear, glowing water behind.

For a moment, nobody spoke.

"I don't understand," Gwaine finally said.

"I do," Merlin replied. His face had gone blank, his voice was flat. He glanced at Arthur, but abruptly averted his gaze when their eyes met, like he had been struck. "Let's get back to the shore."