AN: And here it is folks-the next installment!
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So, I think I'm doing pretty well on this weekly update thing! I'm so looking forward to the next coming chapter. Hopefully it'll have some surprises in store for you all. Reviews are scientifically proven to increase writing speed (okay, maybe not scientifically, but...) so... don't be shy!
Merlin had never clambered down the dark, rocky stairs of the dragon's cavern before. Each step was slick with lichen and moisture. He kept a steadying hand flat on the wall as he went and clenched his teeth when his foot squelched on the muddy surface of the last step. A massive chain swung past his head with a loud jangle. Merlin's hair was ruffled by a great gust of wind, and the great dragon lit on the ground to his left.
"Where will you go?" Merlin asked. A pair of luminous golden eyes blinked slowly at him.
"I can take care of myself, young one. Do not be concerned for me."
Merlin crouched beside the massive chain where it was anchored into the ground and traced the runes engraved on it. Magic humming deep inside of them, apparent at the first touch. They could never have held a dragon captive had they not been strengthened thus. It was ironic that Uther should hold his enemies captive with a force he so abhorred. But perhaps, he held to the belief that fire must at times be fought with fire. These were ancient, and likely they'd been used to ensnare dragons before—dragons who chose to break their peace as the Pure had. Merlin extended a hand, and he glanced back at the dragon who inclined his head, eyes half lidded. So Merlin took a breath and began to chant the ancient words. The runes on the chain lit with a pale glow which threaded up the links all the way to the dragon's feet. Their light grew brighter, still brighter, outshining the darkness in the cave… and ever brighter until Merlin was forced to squeeze his eyes shut against the glow. Heat was beginning to radiate from them…
Then all was fire. The dragon vanished. The darkness of the cavern was replaced by the garish orange light of flames dancing all about the young warlock.
"Merlin!" The warlock cracked his eyes open. "Merlin!" He spun about, searching for the source of the voice. His heart twisted inside his chest.
"Freya? Freya I'm coming! Where are you?" He swung his head from side to side, this way and that, searching for an escape, for a sign of the woman who was crying his name, but the flames were closing in, licking ever closer. He coughed, tried to breath for the oppressive heat and smoke. There! He caught a glimpse of her dark head through the flames and lurched forward, stretching out his hand, heedless of the tongues of flame licking at it. Tears stained her ash-smudged face. He tried to call out a spell, push the flames away, smother them, douse them, anything—but his magic slipped from his grasp like water. "Freya!" he screamed, his voice raw. The fire closed in on him, swift and merciless, and he backed away to the wall.
Merlin started awake with a jolt, his throat convulsing in a strangled sob. For a split second he didn't know where he was and turned over so quickly he nearly tumbled off the edge of the couch. His hand hit the coffee table to his left, and the sharp pain forced him back to full consciousness. He scrubbed the tears from his face and sat up, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. Gaius was gone, and he was alone in the living room with a blanket draped over his shoulders, wearing shirt, jeans and his worn red scarf. He could still taste the acrid smoke on his tongue from the dream, and his throat felt sore as if he'd been screaming. He ran a shaky hand across his face. No peace in his dreams then, either... both the dragon and Freya were gone. He'd never see Freya again, and as for the dragon... He hadn't seen it since releasing its chains. Perhaps Uther had located and discretely executed it as well, like Freya. Perhaps he'd condemned two friends to death in one week.
He took a deep breath and hauled himself to his feet, wrinkling his nose. The smell was stronger than before… this wasn't from his dream. He left the blanket on the couch and sniffed at the air. Step by step, he crept towards it, searching out the stronger smell into the hall. He reached for the door handle to his old room then jerked his hand back with a hiss. It was burning hot, and from underneath the door, a snaking trail of dark smoke was creeping across the floor. Merlin's stomach dropped, as if he'd just been pushed over the edge of a steep incline.
"Gaius!" He spun about and pushed past Gaius' bedroom door, skidding to his uncle's bedside. "Gaius, you have to get up. Gaius!" The physician rolled over and blinked at Merlin blearily.
"Merlin…" He pushed himself up on his arms, and Merlin half pulled him to his feet.
"We need to get out. The apartment's on fire!" he gasped.
"What?" Gaius's bewildered expression was beginning to clear, but it wasn't fast enough for Merlin.
"We have to get out!" Merlin urged. He could taste the smoke in the air. He clasped Gaius' arm and steered him towards the door even as the smoke began to billow, thick and pungent, down the hall from his room. Gaius recollected his senses when the reached the apartment door and put a hand on Merlin's arm.
"Go. I'll be right behind you."
"Gaius!" Merlin froze in the doorway. No way in hell was he leaving without his uncle. "No. No, we have to go-now!" He turned after Gaius, reaching for his sleeve, but Gaius was just out of reach, and he vanished behind the door of his surgery. Merlin tried to shout but inhaled a lung full of smoke instead and doubled over, coughing. Something creaked down the hall, and a blaze of fire leapt from Merlin's door at the end of the hall. "Gaius!" Merlin choked, stumbling towards the surgery door. His eyes were beginning to sting. He dropped to his knees and threw out a hand. "Scildan!"* The flames roared and licked against his invisible shield. He crouched, panting for a breath of air not polluted by the smoke.
"Merlin!" Gaius had reappeared. His hand clutched at the younger man's arm. Merlin staggered upright again, and Gaius pressed a couple of boxes into his arms. "Go!" The fire was battering on Merlin's shield spell. He was struggling for breath, and the flames were too high and too great. He let it drop as they retreated out the door, and together he and Gaius made their way down the stairs. There was no way he could protect the whole apartment.
The street itself was an inferno. Uther's house was ablaze as well. Tall flames danced against the pitch-black backdrop of the night sky, mocking the gathering crowd of onlookers. Merlin drew in great gulps of air. His throat felt scorched and raw from the smoke, and his eyes were watering. The apartments adjacent to Gaius' were already evacuating. A crowd was gathering on the street. Several neighbors were on their mobiles, making emergency calls. Merlin caught a glimpse of Geoffrey Monmouth shouting something to another bystander, and close behind him was Thomas Smith, Gwen's father, who had his hands on a young girl's shoulders and was speaking firmly to her—probably trying to calm her. She looked a bit worse for wear from the flames—singed if not burnt, and was crying. The building, already ablaze, suddenly roared, as if a great dousing of fuel had been poured atop it. The flames stretched higher into the sky and spread, and Gaius' apartment was entirely swallowed in the conflagration.
"Gaius." Merlin glanced to the side to see that Geoffrey had come to stand with them, looking pale and gaunt in the light of the fire. "The Pendragons—"
"Arthur and Morgana were not home yet… and Uther isn't here," Gaius affirmed, but his expression was grim. "He must be notified as soon as possible. He may be in danger. This is no natural fire." He turned briskly to Geoffrey Monmouth "See that every house on the street is evacuated right away, and bring anyone who's hurt to me." Geoffrey nodded.
"I'll speak to the Patroni. A few of them are already here." Geoffrey had scarcely turned to go when several people screamed. One or two bystanders jostled Merlin, shuffling backwards and clinging to one another. But Merlin stood rooted to the spot. His gaze snapped upwards in the direction that several hands were pointing. A dark shadow swept across the street. The fire was obscured by a massive figure. The great dragon soared above them, wings outstretched, and this time when the burst of flame swept the buildings beside Uther's house, the dragon was in plane view. No… no! Merlin squeezed his eyes shut and reached for the dragon's presence, seeking his consciousness far above in the sky.
Why are you doing this? he cried out in desperation. The dragon made no reply, although Merlin was aware of its presence. It could not have failed to hear him.
The creature had told him of his 'destiny', spoken of the Druids and the dragon lords who watched over his kin before the Purge, told him tales of magic and history that no school would speak of. He'd even given Merlin the spell to heal Arthur when there was no other hope. In turn Merlin had given the creature his freedom. For after all… the dragon believed in his and Arthur's destiny. He'd assumed that after so many days, the dragon would be far away by now, safe in some remote part of the country. He'd been naïve enough to think that the creature would leave the city… would seek refuge far from there, where he could breathe the open air and stretch his wings. That he would seek revenge, Merlin had foolishly never imagined. You're hurting innocent people! Merlin wanted to throw back his head and scream aloud to the skies. His magic stirred in panic, but he didn't know the first thing about countering a dragon's strength, and somehow he felt that his magic would do little good against a creature as powerful as this one…. He opened his eyes, shaking. The dragon wasn't just wreaking havoc—he was flaunting his power. He was bold. They couldn't touch him, and he knew it. The figure swept low over the street, its growl rumbling like thunder, then the dark shadow circling over Uther's burning home vanished. I did this...
"Merlin!" Gaius hissed. His hand clamped on Merlin's arm and Merlin realized that he was the only one left standing this close to the house. He snatched up Gaius' boxes and shuffled back to rejoin his uncle, but his eyes remained locked on the place where the dragon had disappeared. "Are you alright?" Merlin clasped his armload tightly and nodded. A mighty groan announced the impending collapse of Uther's home. Merlin shuddered.
"Gaius, the... the dragon. How is he doing that?" he asked, gesturing helplessly at the empty air above them. Gaius quietly shook his head.
"No one but the dragon lords knew the spell that kept the dragons safe from detection." And a sorcerer's spell dies with him…
"The dragon lords are dead," Merlin said hoarsely.
"It would seem," Gaius answered, without taking his eyes from the crumbling Pendragon house, "That at least one of them is not."
Despite concerted efforts from fire departments across the city, more homes were collapsing under the destructive heat of the dragon's flames. The block was soon evacuated entirely and doused with a chemically enhanced liquid from fire-prevention helicopters, now only in hopes of putting out the wreckage. Merlin was all too glad to escape the scene of the inferno and the panicking crowds near the gated neighborhood. He left Gaius tending as best he could to the injured, with the promise that he would rejoin Merlin in Oxford as soon as possible. The sirens within the city started up shortly after Merlin left. Normally, only the lights along major roads stayed on at night after curfew, but now all the streetlights were lit, a poignant sign of crisis, illuminating the road so more emergency vehicles could make their way to the scene of disaster.
Once he caught the first possible train back to Oxford and could hear himself speak again, Merlin rapidly dialed Arthur's number. He had to call three times before his flatmate finally picked up.
"Merlin? Where the hell are you?" Arthur's voice practically shouted at him. Merlin winced. His flatmate had an amazing ability to rise to an occasion, even ten seconds after waking up. "You bloody well disappeared with no explanation, and—"
"Arthur, there's been a fire," Merlin interrupted.
"What?" Arthur's tirade came up short. "Was there another riot?"
"No…" Merlin considered briefly trying to explain the situation to Arthur and cast the idea aside. "Listen, you need to get out of the flat. Just… grab whatever you might need for the next couple of days and get out. Go to Gwen's flat."
"Oh sure. I'll just crop up in the middle of the night and invite myself in to stay the weekend. That'll go over well." Arthur sounded exasperated. "I can't do that—"
"Fine, just… show up to stay for a couple hours. I'll sort it when I get there."
"It's the middle of the night," Arthur repeated as if Merlin hadn't heard the first time.
"Arthur," Merlin's voice was edged with desperation as well. He couldn't discuss this now—not on public transportation where cameras and mics were everywhere. "I don't have time to explain. You could be in danger if you stay at the flat. Please; just do it. Gwen will understand. I'll be there in about an hour and half." He heard Arthur's sigh clearly through the speaker. A rustle, and a clatter… then,
"You'd better have a damn good explanation for this." The line went dead.
Be there in 5. You at Gwen's? Merlin's text read.
Been there for 45 mins, Arthur wrote back and stuffed his mobile into his back pocket, returning his attention to the news report on his laptop. Merlin might have explained where the fire was. Waking up in the middle to a panicked call from his errant flatmate (who he definitely hadn't been worried about) was strange enough. Watching his old home burn on the media screen… it was surreal.
"What does it say now?" he asked, squinting over Guinevere's shoulder. She shook her head.
"Nothing. There are no casualty reports yet." Her eyes lingered on the red 'breaking news' bar where there was a scrolling synopsis of the facts as so far reported.
"I'm sure everyone is fine," Arthur said, as much to reassure himself as Gwen. "Merlin and Gaius were in the first house to catch after my father's. If they got out on time, the others did too."
"And… your father?"
"He's in Wales, negotiating some debates about their educational policies," Arthur answered. That at least had never been a concern when he saw the fires. Gwen nodded and tore her gaze from the screen to fetch a couple of mugs.
Arthur leaned over the back of Gwen's chair and began to scroll through the reports from the news-headline. None of the news sources seemed to know any more than others. All recounted the same stories—but one image caught Arthur's eye: the blurry picture of a serpentine, winged creature above his old home. He clicked it, now ignoring the text that framed around the imbedded video. It was a blurry recording—probably taken from a smartphone. Arthur expanded it and tapped the volume up key.
"Guinevere," he called over his shoulder. "You may want to see this." The video clip was a low quality phone recording with still worse sound, wavering with the motion of the unsteady hand that held it. The fire consuming Arthur's old home leapt into the sky, then across it swept a dark shape—grainy, but unmistakable. Gwen, now standing at Arthur's shoulder, gasped. Arthur gaped at the screen. It can't be… He replayed the clip a second time and froze with the figure in a visible position, displayed against the backdrop of the flames.
"That's… not photoshopped, is it?" Gwen whispered.
"Not on a news source like this one," Arthur said weakly. Dear God… Gwen leapt up when she heard a knock on the door, and Arthur spun about on the spindly office chair to face the newcomer.
"Merlin!" Gwen gasped. She backed away to let Merlin trudge in through the door.
"What happened?" Arthur couldn't keep the shock from his voice when he caught sight of his flatmate. Merlin's face was smeared with ash, his hair sticking up at all odd angles, and his clothes both dirty and rumpled. Merlin shrugged.
"I stayed at Gaius's," he mumbled, as if that explained it, rubbing a hand across his eyes. That only succeeded in smearing the ash further. But why…? Arthur stared at him. Merlin paid him little heed. He gave the laptop with the live report a cursory glance. "It's a dragon. I saw it," he said. Arthur somehow felt his heart sink even lower at Merlin's confirmation.
"Can't they take it down?" Arthur asked as the video-clip replayed for the dozenth time. Merlin exhaled heavily.
"If dragons couldn't hide themselves from modern detection, don't you think they'd have all been killed years ago?" he asked in a monotone.
"So we just watch while it burns the city at will?" Arthur muttered. His heart felt like it was being squeezed in a vice-grip. There was a lengthy pause. Merlin had let Gwen usher him to a seat and accepted the warm mug of tea she offered. He bowed his head over it, as if drinking in its warmth.
"Gaius said there is a man… the man who was bound to this dragon years ago, who cast a powerful enchantment years ago to keep it hidden from detection."
"A sorcerer?" Gwen breathed, staring at Merlin wide-eyed.
"How does this help us?" Arthur asked, heartily agreeing with Gwen's feeling.
"A dragon lord," Merlin amended. "He and the dragon are bound by an ancient pact… If he threatens to end the spell that keeps the dragon hidden from detection, he can stop the attack on the city." A sorcerer. A 'dragon lord'. It made no difference to Arthur. The man had magic, and that made him questionable… He couldn't see why a sorcerer would want to stop this attack. But with the city burning as they spoke, it didn't appear that they had much of a choice. He pursed his lips and glanced sidelong at his friend.
"Where is he now?" Merlin shook his head.
"I don't know… He probably went into hiding with the Druids long ago. Nobody knows where they live." Nobody… that was except the Druids themselves. The idea presented itself unbidden. Arthur traced a finger over his computer's touchpad. His father would be livid if he knew what was going through his son's mind at this moment. But then, Arthur had crossed that bridge the day he recognized the Druid's old, familiar face…. England was burning, and Arthur would be damned if he sat idle and watched. Arthur reached a decision and shut the laptop lid as he rose to his feet.
"I think I know someone who can help."
"Arthur, we should really wait for Gaius… You shouldn't be out. It could be dangerous." Arthur quickened his pace with half an eye on his phone screen. Destination on the left in 50 feet, it read.
"You can go back," he said, counting off the address numbers as he walked.
"I can't leave you out here alone!" Merlin protested.
"What are you going to do if that dragon sweeps down out of the sky—ask him nicely to let me alone?" Arthur scoffed.
"Fine, if you're going to be a stubborn prat, would you at least tell me where we're going?" There! Arthur stopped, and Merlin's shoulder collided with his. He turned to look at his friend and searched Merlin's face. The dark haired man looked more annoyed than concerned right now, but that might change in a split second.
"Merlin… I need you not to freak out when I tell you… alright?"
"Why would I freak out?" Merlin asked, eyes narrowing.
"Look…" Arthur shifted his weight to the other leg and frowned at him. "This person—you know him. He's one of the professors."
"Am I supposed to freak out now?" Merlin asked sardonically. Arthur rolled his eyes. "So we're going to drop by a professor's house at an ungodly hour of the morning. Great. How exactly is he going to help?" Merlin added. Arthur couldn't think of any gentle way to put this. Merlin had a habit of scurrying off the moment magic was mentioned. He really didn't want to do this alone, and Gwen had been on the phone with her father when they left. Like as not, he'd have to come stay with her now that his home was either damaged or destroyed. Arthur buried his hands in his pockets.
"He's not just a professor…" Merlin looked back at him expectantly. "He's a Druid," Arthur said all at once.
"He's a what?" Merlin yelped.
"Shh!" Arthur hissed and put both hands up. "See? This is why I didn't tell you!"
"Oh, so you thought I'd be more calm about it if you waited till we were outside his door to tell me?" Merlin said in a high-pitched voice.
"Stop panicking! Merlin, it'll be fine—"
"I'm not panicking!" Merlin retorted. His voice dropped. "I just… you… you knew he was a Druid?"
"Of course I knew! I'm not stupid." Arthur responded. Merlin stared at him. Then he let out a bark of laughter, startling Arthur. "Oh, don't even start that now," the blond growled, because there was a definite gleam of amusement in his friend's blue eyes. "I met him before. He's the same man who came to pick the Druid boy up—the one we helped get out of Camelot, remember?"
"Yeah… but you… Arthur, you…" Merlin faltered. "You didn't turn him in."
"Astounding observation," Arthur deadpanned. "And if you don't want me disowned and turned out on my ear, you'll keep it to yourself." Merlin was twisting his scarf round his hands again. Still nervous then… "Look, Merlin—" He stopped speaking when Merlin lifted his head, because his friend was smiling—a smile brighter than he'd seen on Merlin's face in weeks.
"That might cost you a bit, Arthur."
"Shut up!" Arthur retorted and smacked him on the back of the head.
Arthur had almost expected that they wouldn't be able to wake Sellers merely by knocking on his door. Less still did he expect the older man to look so alert when he answered. He was wrapped in a robe—clearly not expecting visitors, but very awake and his eyes as sharp and observant as ever.
"Arthur," he sounded puzzled, but then his gaze settled on Merlin, and the dark haired man went rigid. Arthur pursed his lips with a touch of impatience. The curly-haired professor was really one of the least intimidating people Arthur knew—alongside Merlin himself. Come on, Merlin. Calm down.
"Professor, I'm sorry, I wouldn't bother you if this wasn't serious… We need help." Sellers stepped back.
"Come in, please," he invited brusquely. Arthur prompted his shell-shocked friend forward, and Merlin recovered himself a little as they came inside; he might be spooked by the situation, but Merlin was no coward, even if acted like it at times. He'd be fine. Arthur gestured to his companion.
"This is my flatmate—Merlin Astur."
"I know him," Sellers replied. Arthur gave his flatmate a narrow eyed sidelong look. Merlin hadn't mentioned meeting Professor Sellers before. "Are you alright? You don't look well," Sellers said with a concerned look. Merlin blinked and nodded, and Arthur hurried to intervene, as much to get to their business as to take the pressure off his nervous companion.
"We're looking for someone," he said. "A dragon lord. We have reason to believe he's staying with the Druids."
"A dragon lord?" The Druid's brows lowered, and his eyes darkened seriously. "So, the Great Dragon is free again, is he?" He sighed. "The dragon lords were executed in the Purge. Surely you must know that, Arthur." Merlin lifted his chin and met the Druid's eyes.
"Not all of them, professor."
"Iseldir, please," the man said. Merlin inclined his head with a dignity entirely uncharacteristic to him, and Arthur's jaw almost dropped. Gone was the shell-shocked, fearful demeanor Merlin entered the house with. He'd gathered a completely different air about himself, standing straight and tall, and his eyes trained confidently on the Druid.
"Iseldir," he acknowledged. "If all the dragon lords were dead, the dragon would no longer be a problem. He is still under the protection of a sorcerer's enchantment. We're looking for his dragon lord. And any condemned sorcerer who survived the Purge would have sought refuge with the Druids." Silence followed his words. Iseldir's gaze turned on Arthur, and suddenly it was Arthur who felt uncomfortable.
"There is a place where sorcerers have been able to hide—those of us who have run foul of this country's laws. They have lived in peace and safety for many years," Iseldir said quietly. "I can tell you where to look, but I would be putting their lives in your hands."
"You wouldn't need to... You could go yourself," Arthur suggested tentatively.
"I don't believe he would listen to me," the Druid answered with a wry, humorless smile. And he will listen to us? Arthur wondered. He shifted, drew his shoulders back, and forced himself to make steady eye contact. He was still leery of trusting the Druid. After all, Iseldir embodied the very thing he'd been taught to hate and fear. But it seemed that Iseldir did not entirely trust him either, and though he hated it, he could not blame the man. He was now and always Uther's son. Such was the lens through which many people viewed him. Not a week since, he'd made the decision to protect Professor Sellers from his own father's laws. But whether he would offer that same clemency to a whole community of sorcerers…
"If you choose to trust me with that information... then I should hope," Arthur said, choosing his words with great care, "That my actions both now and in the future will never add to the innocent people who have died these last many years." At that, Iseldir's expression changed, and the look in his eyes might almost… almost have been a smile.
"You will do more than hope," he said. Arthur inclined his head ever so slightly. "The place you are looking for lies beside Spinster's Rock. But you will be lucky to find Balinor anywhere near the others. He prefers to keep to himself." Balinor. Arthur repeated the name several times in his mind. They had a name and a place… They would be able to find him.
"Thank you," he breathed.
"Do not make me regret trusting you," Iseldir answered. Arthur nodded slowly, feeling the hair on the back of his neck prickle. It was a serious decision to make… but in the end, Arthur felt as if he'd already made it many years ago… the only right decision to make. But this time, it was Merlin who spoke for him, and his voice was full of conviction.
"You won't."
AN2: *Scildan = shield. Taken directly from the show.
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