AN: Hello dear readers!
I graduated with my degree a couple of weeks back on a very, very rainy day. All in all, a very memorable graduation since it was held outside. It was a very entertaining event of umbrellas, water-sliding on the grass, and wet shoes. ^^
Unfortunately, I ended up being once again late to update, because I had to move out of my apartment. My lease was up. My muse also went on an (admittedly much deserved) vacation after I finished my degree. Anyway, I am now sitting in a forest of stacked up boxes while I submit this very, very late chapter for you-the usual hurriedly-written 2AM update! I hope you haven't all given up and unfollowed my story. D:
I'll give a shot at returning to the two-weeks-from-now deadline. So hope to see me again two Sundays from now! Unless there's a hitch with my moving-process!
"Gwen?" A constant hum in her ear; the feeling of a subtly moving surface underneath her body; rough, shaggy texture pressed against her cheek and ear. Gwen's hand was touching something cold and metallic. She pulled it back to herself and rubbed it over her face. "Gwen?" The voice wasn't Arthur's. Arthur was gone long since. Gwen knew that. The realization trickled back into her fuddled thoughts like cold water. She shifted away from the hand on her shoulder, and the rough carpet rubbed at her cheek. "Are you alright?" the speaker added, quiet but insistent. She parted her parched lips, a half-formed thought on the tip of her tongue, and found it stuck to the roof of her mouth. She cleared her throat and turned her head so she could peer through her lashes at her dimly lit surroundings. Slowly, she pushed herself into a half-sitting position and squinted against the little shaft of light that peered down at her. Deep in the recesses of her sluggish mind, she knew it was some time since she'd been in the bedroom in Agravaine's home with Arthur's arms wrapped around him, asleep with her head tucked against his shoulder. But the in-between time—what had happened since then and now—was a confusing muddle of chaotic dreams and snippets of semi-reality.
Within the small space, Gwen's eyes adjusted. Around her, she registered a soft and continuous hum. A thin crack of light from a covered window lit the space where she sat. Silent but attentive, her companion sat back, watching her. Some of the anxiety clenching in her chest relaxed. She parted her cracked lips again, coughed, and struggled to wrap dry tongue and mouth around a single word.
"Leon?" she croaked. Her voice felt as if it hadn't been used in an eternity, and her body echoed the sentiment, sore as if she'd been lying on the hard ground for a long time.
The curly haired man across from her let out a breath and leaned closer. His face was barely visible in the slim glimmer of light, but she didn't need to see his expression to read the concern in his movements and voice.
"Are you alright?" he repeated. She nodded.
"I'm okay," she breathed; it was at least a half-truth. Her head, she realized, was throbbing; her ribs ached, cramped from lying in the same position for some hours; her stomach felt as empty as her mouth felt dry. She pressed a hand to her face and rubbed at her eyes. Her cheek still felt raw where the carpet had chafed. The flood of sensations made her head spin. "What… what's happening?" Her body swayed with a sudden movement, and Leon reached out in the same moment she flung out a hand to steady herself. Her muddled mind finally registered their location. A moving vehicle. She was in the back of a car or truck… going somewhere.
"Do you remember anything?" Leon demanded, tense. She shook her head.
"Not much. I think… I must have been unconscious." She squinted hard at him, though it helped hardly at all in the lighting. "Leon, the others…" Leon shook his head.
"I don't know where the others are. I don't know where they're taking us either. I'm sorry." Gwen shut her eyes. Her throat convulsed, and a bitter taste stung in her mouth. She rested her palms flat on the floor as the car swayed again. Leon's clothing rustled. "They may have drugged you with something," he said in a low voice. "Or used a spell on you. Are you sure you're alright? You don't remember anything? You don't feel unwell?" Gwen shook her head.
"No…I feel fine." The car turned a corner, and Gwen steadied herself against the wall. They were slowing down. Her heart seemed to have made its way into her throat and was beating rapidly.
"Gwen." Leon leaned closer again, his voice soft but urgent. "I don't know where we're going or what they're doing, and I don't know where Arthur is, but they're going to try to use both of us against him." Gwen nodded and swallowed hard. "Don't look at him. Try not to speak if you can help it. Be as neutral as you can." Gwen nodded again, and Leon moved back away from her even as the car pulled to a stop. It shuddered as the engine shut off. Gwen shut her eyes and willed her breathing to even out. It was the second time she'd been captured. They had bided their time before; this time they wouldn't hesitate.
The doors to her right clicked then swung open. Gwen squinted in the pale sunlight. Leon moved first. She made out the shape of another person steering him to the doors and away from the car, and her eyes had adjusted somewhat to the light when a hand clamped on her arm.
"Come," a brusque voice ordered. Gwen shuffled to the edge and swung her legs over, still blinking owlishly when she emerged into full light. Her stomach did a flip as she dropped to the ground; it was further than she'd expected, and her legs, unused for several hours, felt shaky. The man standing next to her didn't steady her. She stumbled a step, then straightened and turned to squint at the hand that held her arm. Her captor was a tall, curly-haired man with small sharp eyes. Scarcely a foot from him stood Leon, attended by another man, armed and grim-faced. Leon, in his grasp, looked even more disheveled now that Gwen saw him in the full light. But he stood straight and moved well. He seemed unhurt. That at least was hopeful. Gwen shuffled back a step, tugging at her captor's grip which was growing uncomfortable.
"Where's Arthur?" she demanded. "What's happening?"
Her captor made no answer. His fingers on her arm were cinching now painfully tight, and from the corner of her eye, she saw Leon shake his head ever so slightly. She went still, skimming the area with her eyes.
Her surroundings told her very little. Rays of pale sunlight peered out from between two buildings across the open parking lot from her; it might have been sunrise or sunset. She had no way of knowing east or west, nor how many hours she'd been unconscious. The light made her already aching head feel worse, so she narrowed her eyes against it.
"Gwen." Leon again. She twisted a little in the tall man's grip to catch Leon's eye, and Leon jerked his head towards the left. Gwen turned her head abruptly, and she got only a fleeting glimpse of what Leon was seeing before she was turned forcefully, and her captor's grip warned her wordlessly to keep still. No… That didn't make sense. Gwen peered from the corner of her eye, but she couldn't see them a second time. Arthur, Gwaine, Percival, Elyan… all of them were still missing. Why would he turn up? It had to have been Arthur's uncle. She'd seen him as clearly as she'd recognized his companion. But why wasn't he restrained… and why was he speaking in the open with their captor Morgause? She shot Leon a second look, but he didn't respond. His face was drawn and pale. The man holding him had wrested his arms both behind his back and twisted them back in a harsh grip.
The questions were left a relentless itch at the back of Gwen's mind. She had little time to register Agravaine's presence before Morgause stepped into Gwen's line of sight. But it wasn't Morgause who held Gwen's attention. Across the lot, several uniformed figures were moving into position around two new arrivals. Nausea coiled deep in Gwen's tried to move, speak, shake her head, but her captor's fingers dug into her arms.
"Our agreement was that you would come alone." One of the many uniformed men moved to Morgause's side.
"I needed my own surety." Arthur lifted his chin and flitted a brief look at Gwen. He looked small and unimposing in comparison, his military issue t-shirt and khaki pants were now rumpled, creased, and brushed with dirt, and there were dark shadows under his eyes. But his voice belied the unkempt appearance. "Percival is here to make sure they'll be safe after I go with you." His uniform jacket was gone, but Gwen recognized Lancelot's friend—the former soldier—who stood like a silent guard at Arthur's shoulder.
"Surety was not part of the deal. We did not call you here to bargain," Morgause responded.
"No. You prefer to threaten me with the lives of other men and women." Arthur's eyes narrowed and he fixed Morgause with an icy glare. "If your previous actions were an example, you can stop demonstrating. I understand your intentions towards me. There is no need to harm innocent men and women in your campaign. I'm here now."
A ball of ice lodged itself somewhere in Gwen's chest. An example. Was that all Merlin had been to them?
"Innocent?" Morgause laughed. "You know very little of your friend, Pendragon."
"I'm not here to talk about Merlin." Arthur's voice acquired an edge of carefully controlled tension. "I have come to negotiate their safety." He inclined his head towards the captives to Morgause's left.
"You are in no position to make terms," the uniformed man returned.
"I have one thing left to offer," Arthur said. "My compliance." The woman raised an eyebrow. Gwen's skin prickled, as if a cold wind had swept across the lot. She began to shake her head, but Arthur made no move or gesture in her direction.
"Go on," Morgause hummed.
"You can take me hostage now, but if I die, you make me a martyr. If you harm me or keep me by force, you make me a hero or at the very least sympathetic in the eyes of the country and international media. That's not what you really want. I'm most useful to you if I speak willingly for your cause." Gwen tried to catch Arthur's eye again, desperate, shaking her head the tiniest fraction, but he kept his eyes stalwartly on the young politician and the general. "You can have my cooperation willingly or unwillingly. It's your choice. But if you will let Percival take them away, I can make this easier for both of us. I will wait for his call—his word that they're somewhere safe, then I'm yours. I'll do whatever you ask of me."
"Arthur—" Gwen took a forceful step forward, straining against the hand still clamped around on her arm. But if Arthur or Morgause heard her, neither gave any sign. Instead, she caught a glimpse of a head of dark hair just past Morgause, standing in the background. She wrenched at her captor's grasp and choked back a gasp when his fingers dug in hard. Morgana… How could she stand and watch this?
"One," Morgause said brusquely. "We will exchange you for one of them. The others will stay as assurance of your behavior."
"I'm giving you my assurance now." A trace of anger crept into Arthur's tone.
"One," she repeated firmly. "Don't overestimate your value, Pendragon."
"I don't." Arthur looked sharply back at her. She tilted her head with a detached glance at the captives.
"Make your choice. And be quick about it. My patience is running short." Arthur stared back at her, jaw clenched tight, and his fingers curled tight into his palm.
"Let me speak to him." Gwen's voice caught a little., but she spoke loud enough that the two rebels had to hear her. Arthur tensed. The fingers wrapped around Gwen's arm hurt. She hadn't thought the vice-grip could tighten any more. For the first time, Morgause turned her head and regarded the younger woman. "Please." Gwen carefully kept her voice steady this time. "Just for a minute." Arthur's eyes locked on her as well, and the faintest hint of fear gleamed in them.
"Let them talk." Gwen sucked in a sharp breath. The pressure on her arm vanished all at once. The uniformed man at Morgause's side—the rogue general, she could only assume—jerked his head in sign of acknowledgement. Gwen nearly stumbled with the forceful prompt forward that her captor gave her.
"Be quick," Morgause added brusquely. Arthur had already crossed the space between them to steady her with a hand on either shoulder. Arthur leaned down, scanning her face with intent eyes.
"Are you alright? Did they hurt you?" She shook her head.
"Arthur, what were you thinking?" she breathed, darting a sideways look at their audience. Arthur had no doubt seen his sister already. She stood at a distance, not looking at them, silent and unreadable. "You got away?" Gwen said quietly.
"Gwen, I'm sorry—"
"You were safe." Gwen shook her head. "Why would you come back?" Please tell me someone knows you came here… please tell me they'll be looking for you. Arthur shook his head.
"I had to take their threat seriously. Gwen, you know what we've seen them do." Arthur shook his head vigorously to still her protests. "Listen to me. I need you to do as she's offered. Go with Percival. Get away from here. Stay safe. He'll reconnect you with the military or the police. They can keep you in custody away from the fighting—"
"I won't leave you here to die!" Gwen interrupted fiercely.
"Not to die." Arthur's fingers brushed the stray hair playing around her ear. His eyes were fixed on her face "Please, Gwen. I need you to do this for me. Be safe. That's all I ask." Gwen was shaking her head. His fingers grazed her cheek, and he leaned down to give her a light kiss—the briefest touch, before he pulled back. "I love you." She shook her head, blinking back tears rapidly.
"Arthur—"
"We have company." Morgause's voice interrupted. Beside her, the general swore.
"What?" Arthur breathed. Percival's hand settled on Gwen's shoulder, and she started. She hadn't heard him approaching.
"You brought others." A glimmer of pale fire flickered in the sorceress' eyes.
"I only brought one. I swear—"
"You were warned about the consequences of violating our agreement."
"I didn't speak with anyone else—" Morgause raised a hand.
"No! Please, wait!" Gwen felt as though her heart had frozen in her chest. Morgana—up to that point a silent and passive watcher, lurched forward, one hand stretched out towards Morgause as if in supplication.
"Kill them." Morgause's eyes flared golden. Gwen lunged forward, as if to place herself between Arthur and the magic, but it didn't touch her. Arthur was lifted bodily off the ground with its force. Morgana's hand was still outstretched, her mouth open in a shout of protest, when a sound like a crumbling building drowned the other noise in the street, and the sky bloomed the color of molten lava.
"Get down!" Percival's shout rose above the roar of the fire over their heads. He pulled Gwen roughly to the ground mere heartbeats before Cenred's soldiers opened fire. Overhead, the plume of flame dissipated, leaving a gust of blistering, hot air to sweep over the space as gunfire burst all around them. Then even the crack and rattle of gunshots was drowned in a second deafening roar that rang out above their heads. A dark shadow swooped over the lot, and the lot was engulfed in fire a second time.
The heat was stifling. Someone started screaming as the flames crackled close-by. Gwen tried to force the mental image it conjured out of her head. She tasted the sting of acid in the back of her throat nonetheless and battled down another wave of nausea. Fixing her eye on the prone figure some feet from her, she flattened herself to the ground and crawled across the pavement.
"Arthur," she rasped. She dragged herself to Arthur's body and gathered a fistful of his sleeve. "Arthur!" He stirred almost as soon as she began tugging at his arm and rolled over to lie on his back blinking up at her. She let out a shaky breath. His eyes were watering and his chest heaving, but he looked both conscious and alert if a little stunned. She crouched on the pavement beside him as the scorching wave of heat washed over them—perhaps another blaze of fire. She didn't look back to see.
A dark figure swept past overhead, shrouding the lot in darkness for a heartbeat. Gwen lifted her head, heart racing. The figure was gone, but across the lot a dark, cloudlike bank of gray rolled out from the gaps between buildings and swept over her and Arthur in mere seconds. She reached down to place a hand on Arthur's chest, barely able to see his face. Sorcery… Gwen's skin prickled. They were still under attack.
Arthur's fingers brushed Gwen's cheek. She looked down at him.
"Are you alright?" he wheezed. Gwen nodded.
"Are you?"
"Yeah." Another burst of gunfire rang out into the fog. Arthur's hand curled around the back of her neck, pulling her down. She stretched an arm cross Arthur's still-heaving chest and laid her head against his shoulder so she could look out at the fog-clouded lot.
"Keep still," Arthur murmured. She nodded against his shoulder. Bursts of yellow-orange bloomed in the gray fog in tandem with the crack of gunfire.
It lasted only a few seconds. The two of them stayed on the ground, still and quiet until it ceased.
"We need to move," she whispered by his ear. "Can you get up?" Arthur nodded. There were footsteps somewhere near them in the fog. Gwen clambered to her feet and helped him up. He slipped his hand into hers. The fog was so thick that she could scarcely see a foot from her face.
"Where?" he murmured. She drew close to him, shaking her head. They could easily walk straight into Morgause's arms. There was no telling where this fog had come from.
For a minute, they stood side-by-side, listening in the silence, catching the distant sound of footsteps and voices around them. Any move they made might attract the gunfire again. She hardly dared to breathe, let alone speak.
Arthur startled. Gwen tightened her grip on his hand. He began turning about, scanning the fog bank in urgent search. She squinted up at him, heart pounding a frantic rhythm in her chest. Then inches in front of them, a pale orb appeared in the midst of the fog. Gwen drew back, trying to pull Arthur with her.
"She found us," she whispered hoarsely. Arthur was rooted in place. "Arthur!" she hissed.
"No. It's alright," he murmured to her, and the pale orb of light pulsed a little brighter when he spoke. "That's from a friend." Gwen's eyes flitted to him again. Before the pale light, the fog billowed away, clearing an open path for them.
"It's magic," Gwen whispered. Her stomach turned. She blinked at it, but Arthur's fingers wove in between hers and squeezed reassuringly.
"Trust me," he said quietly. Gwen hesitated a heartbeat longer, then pressed her shoulder against his.
The fog billowed about them when they stepped forward to follow the light. It muffled Gwen's senses unsettlingly. Sound dulled into a distant murmur. Gwen's skin was brushed by a thousand tiny droplets of water, and her sight limited to inches in front of herself. Arthur's fingers slipped free of Gwen's, and he wound his arm around her waist instead, keeping her as close as possible. After a couple of steps, something solid brushed Gwen's right shoulder. She put out her hand and laid her hand flat against it. A wall. She drew Arthur closer to it and they moved forward together, Gwen trailing the fingers of her free hand along the building.
The orb of light flickered, and Arthur froze in his tracks again.
"Stop," he whispered. They stood still. Several fog-shrouded figures had appeared nearby. Arthur shifted to place his body protectively in front of Gwen's, and she reached across him to grasp his arm with her free hand.
"Stay where you are, Pendragon." The orb of light flickered dangerously like a tiny flame in a breeze. Gwen curled her fingers around the fabric of Arthur's shirt. Close by, she heard the click of weaponry. "He's this way!" one of the figures shouted. For a sickening moment, Gwen saw the sights of a pistol outlined in the thick fog, and her stomach dropped. They had nowhere to run. The orb had all but disappeared—now a ghost of a glimmer in the fog—and she had her back to a wall. They're going to shoot us!
The figures never reached them. As if it had a mind of its own, the fog swirled suddenly thicker around Arthur and Gwen, until Gwen could feel the moisture with each intake of breath. Gwen shrank against the wall, drawing Arthur with her. There was the sound of a scuffle alarmingly close by. Another firearm went off, a short, sharp crack followed the sound of something or perhaps several things hitting the ground. Then silence. Her breath started coming in short, quick bursts. She flattened herself along the wall. The fog was wrapping around them like fingers.
"What happened?" she whispered shakily. Any doubt of whether the fog was sorcery had gone from her mind now.
"I don't know," Arthur whispered back. His arm tightened around her. Arthur and Gwen stayed still waiting for several minutes, and the soft light of the orb brightened again, casting Arthur's pale face in its glow. "Come on," Arthur breathed softly. Gwen's eyes darted skeptically to the light, but she followed him again. They moved forward with caution, keeping to the wall.
The wall ended. Gwen's hand stretched out into open space, and she felt a current of chilly air play around her fingers. The light moved right, past the wall, and with faltering step, she followed it. She and Arthur stepped into an open, clear-air alleyway. Gwen stopped and drew in a deep breath of clear, moisture-free air. Behind them, the fog billowed, shutting off view of the parking lot where the fire had been.
"Arthur!" The sphere winked out as if it had never been there. Arthur caught Gwen's hand again and gripped tightly.
"Percival?" Arthur gasped. The word was half a bark of relieved laughter. At the corner of the building some yards away, Percival beckoned vigorously. Gwen didn't need a second invitation. She started towards him, but Arthur's hand tugged at hers. He was hesitating, staring at the fog in the place where the orb had vanished. Percival was back in a heartbeat, and this time not alone.
"We have to go. Now."
"Leon and my uncle—"
"We don't have time. We'll sweep the area." Percival ushered them forward, and a second later there were more people moving in around them—also uniformed. Rodor's… Gwen hoped. They fell in behind Arthur and Gwen to block the way should anyone else emerge from the dark fog behind them.
"You called them?" Arthur's voice was taut when they turned a corner. Several vehicles were there, waiting, attended by still more soldiers. Percival shook his head.
"This isn't the time." Gwen felt the tension wired in every line of Arthur's body, but he nodded, short and sharp. "Come." Percival ushered them into the back of a car.
"Alright?" One of the soldiers asked quietly as they were steered into a seat. Gwen nodded mutely, and Arthur took the seat beside her. The warmth of his shoulder against hers was reassuring. "We'll have you somewhere safe shortly." A cool bottle was pressed into Gwen's hand, and she smiled back at the man, silently blessing him. She'd forgotten how parched she was for the last few frantic minutes. Her hands shook when she clumsily uncapped it.
"Hey." Arthur reached across and steadied her hands with his own. She took several long swallows, and Arthur gathered cap and bottle from her hands before she could drop either. A moment later his fingers traced the back of her hand. She looked down. Her fingers were still trembling subtly.
The vehicle had hummed into life and they were pulling out, yet she couldn't quite make herself believe that they were safe… nor could she stop the energy pumping through her veins, making her muscles taut and her heart pound rapidly. Arthur covered her hand with his in silence, and a second later she turned towards him. His arms wrapped around her again, and she leaned her head against his and squeezed her eyes shut.
"Please," her voice was a whisper in his ear as he tightened his grip. "Don't ever do anything like that again." He didn't respond, but she felt his breath on her ear when he turned and buried his face in her hair.
"You contacted Rodor?" Arthur braced his arms on the table and stared across it at Gwaine.
"What did you expect me to do?" The American spread his hands emphatically. "Come along and wish you good luck on your suicide mission?"
"I expected you not to risk the lives of everyoneinvolved. We could all have been killed!"
"How was I supposed to know that the blond woman had a sixth bloody sense?"
"She's a sorceress!" Arthur snapped.
"Right. I figured that bit out," Gwaine deadpanned. He turned and paced the length of the table, scowling at Arthur. "I suppose you had it all under control, did you?"
"I would at least have gotten Gwen out."
"I got all of you out," Gwaine said pointedly. Gwen sighed and leaned her head in her hands, and Arthur reached silently across the table to cover her hand with his.
"If you'd waited one more minute—" he began.
"One more minute," Elyan interrupted, "And Morgause would have had all of you in her pocket. You can't negotiate with sorcerers." Gwen turned her head to look at her brother from the corner of her eye. His input silenced Arthur for the moment. The blond dropped his gaze, shoulders hunched. No doubt the bruise on Elyan's face still made him wince too. "Arthur, Cenred only released me so I would bring a message to General Rodor," Elyan said. "Morgause expected you to be with him. She probably expected you to bring along backup too. Your negotiations were doomed to fail before you even tried. She probably intended to kill most of us as soon as she had her hands firmly on you."
"No one handled the situation particularly well," Gwen said. "If it weren't for that fire, we'd all be pushing up daisies."
"If it weren't for the dragon," Gwaine put in. He stopped pacing and fixed on the people at the table."Sorry, is no oneelse interested in knowing why the dragon that tried to burn down Camelot a few weeks back is now helpingus?" He turned a pointed look on Arthur. Arthur shook his head.
"Gwaine, acquaintance with a Druid doesn't mean I know anything about dragons." Druids… Gwen closed her eyes and breathed out slowly through her nose. There was a lot here that she didn't understand; she fixed on something she could wrap her tired thoughts around for now.
"Was anyone hurt?" she asked her brother next to her.
"There were only a few injuries. The fog kept us from engaging directly. We've picked up the other members of your group." Elyan shifted his attention to Arthur. "Your uncle—Agravaine, wasn't it?—he looked a bit the worse for wear," Gwen opened her eyes and blinked at Elyan. Her heart had sunk like lead at once. "But he'll be here along with the others, I imagine."
"He was found too?" Arthur perked up, and Gwen's insides twisted.
"Arthur—" She didn't finish the thought.
"They're here," Elyan cut in, getting to his feet. Gwen took a deep breath pushed her chair back. She hadn't had a moment alone with Arthur since they'd been hurried away from the site of the conflict. There were a thousand things she wanted to ask—about his apparent disappearance before Morgause recaptured them, about the light, about the dragon, and his uncle… But the thoughts died on her tongue. Agravaine was here already… and it would have to wait. Her heart ached at the thought of suggesting another family member's disloyalty.
"I should have known you two were both involved in this." That was Leon. Gwen smiled slightly and lifted her head. It was good to see him safe and unhurt. "You were the curse of my last four years with your disappearing acts." Leon stepped in the door, following Arthur's uncle, and Gwen froze, a breath caught in her throat when a third figure followed him inside.
"I'm glad someone finds this funny." Arthur looked as if he'd been slapped across the face. He started to his feet, staring. "Because I nearly had a bloody heart attack when you turned up missing. Arthur, what the hell were you thinking? Did you think any of it through—ask yourself if Morgause would actually honor your agreement?" He looked wan and pale—and perhaps it was her imagination, but he seemed skinnier than ever, draped in an over-sized military issue jacket.
"Merlin?" she breathed. The dark haired man turned on her and the fire faded from his eyes.
"Sorry, Gwen." He mustered a weary and somewhat sheepish smile. "It's good to see you." Her throat had already tightened so much that she couldn't speak. She crossed the space between them in a couple of stumbling steps and threw her arms around him. "Er… Gwen?" Merlin's voice rose several octaves when she tightened her hold.
"I th—" She shook her head and loosened her grip a little. "I thought you…" she choked. He stiffened, then his arms came up to hug her back tightly.
"Oh, no… God, no. I'm okay."
"Merlin, what are you doing here?" Arthur's voice was tinged with worry and bewilderment.
"Following you, you prat," Merlin huffed. Gwen pressed her forehead against Merlin's shoulder a minute longer as she struggled to rearrange her face and steady her breathing.
"I think… you both have a lot of explaining to do," she managed shakily at last, pulling back. Merlin had the grace to drop his eyes to the floor in an apologetic half-nod, but Arthur maintained a lingering, slightly narrow-eyed gaze at the pale, worn-looking Merlin.
"You didn't come alone."
"Arthur—" Merlin blinked at him.
"Gwen was right. We would all have died if it wasn't for the fire." Arthur's eyes flitted to Gwen again. "And the light that led us to safety."
"Light?" Merlin echoed. Gwen reached worriedly for his arm. His face had lost what little color it had had left, but Arthur's attention—silent, almost challenging, remained fixed on him. And he wasn't the only one.
"Your guardian angel," Leon observed quietly.
"Arthur, what…"
"Someone is protecting me," Arthur said. "Someone with magic. I need to speak with the Druids again."
AN2: How do you like that ending?
I really struggled with this chapter, so I hope you guys enjoyed it! Poor Gwen. She's been through a lot too now... Anyway, I gave you a fleeting glimpse of Morgana, a bit of Arthur/Gwen, another Kilgarrah sighting, and lots of question marks... The more fun for you!
On an entirely different note, remember to thank our armed forces for their service today!
Sandyy