AN: Hi friends! I promised I'd finish the story, and so I shall.
In the interest of full disclosure, I spent a long time revising and re-writing this story, so it's mostly the same, but I did repost it on AO3. If you'd like to see the new and revised version, you can find it at the AO3 account with the author name OneLineintheSand. The story's new title is "Modern Legend."
I will still post the last three chapters here, but if you're a reader who knows the story and would like to refresh his/her/their memory, feel free to go to my AO3 and read the version I've refreshed with my new thoughts as I completed it.
"After weeks of uncertainty and delays rumored to be caused by the continued attacks, a new statement from the New Liberals' Coalition has revealed their resumed efforts to organize negotiations under Mithain Rodor and Arthur Pendragon. This statement has come alongside new information on Arthur Pendragon's connections with the Druid Community."
A panning shot followed Arthur and Mithian up to a podium, followed closely by General Rodor, Merlin, and Gaius.
"Often seen at Arthur Pendragon's side in the past, Merlin Astur—a young man from Armagh in Ireland—has taken on a new name and significance. He goes by the title Emrys among the Druids, and is rumored to have unusual magical capabilities. Merlin Astur has been a known associate of Pendragon's for nearly a decade. It is unknown how long Pendragon was aware of his associations with magic."
News clips had been pouring in all morning. Merlin hadn't had the guts to look at any of the ones from the interview where Arthur had shepherded him out in front of the cameras to talk. He'd felt paralyzed. Opening his mouth in front of the world and saying 'I have magic' was so much more terrifying than admitting it to Arthur.
Standing in front of four Druid representatives as 'Emrys' hadn't been much less terrifying. For all that he'd seen and done, he still felt a little like a fraud, wondering what his life would be like in the moment if Mordred had never named in Emrys at thirteen
Merlin put a hand on one of the stones at the edge of the circle, leaning against it a little. He needed some space. In the last week, it felt like he'd had no space to breathe. From the moment Arthur was deemed well enough to return for negotiations, everything had moved at a breakneck speed. Merlin's name, his 'identity' as Emrys, and his role were broken upon the world and to all his friends almost immediately. As much as he understood the importance of his name and identity and the draw it had for the Druids, for the world, for helping the negotiations succeed, he felt sick at the thought of being in the open. It felt like standing naked before a sea of eyes. He didn't have time to process the reactions from all quarters. The Druids had taken it up eagerly, already somewhat aware of his name and identity, but all the more enthusiastic once it was confirmed. He'd hardly even seen Gwen as he and Arthur were swept through London in company with Iseldir, connected with General Rodor and Mithian, then taken up into Cumbria. Leon knew. Arthur told him so. He hadn't gotten a chance to speak with the man. He didn't even know what Leon thought, let alone any others. It was overwhelming. He wanted it all to slow down and at once knew that it couldn't. Not if this was going to work. All that carried him through, kept him from panicking at the speed of it all was a tantalizing hope; he had been accepted, trusted, believed by Arthur. Maybe… just maybe this would change everything.
And yet, standing within the neolithic stone circle in broad daylight, where the negotiations of the past had nearly always been held under the moon, Merlin felt like it had all been some surreal dream. How could it not be? Freya, the first sorceress in England bonded with a dragon since the Purge, stood across the clearing in conversation with two Druid representatives. Iseldir, Mordred, Gaius, and many other familiar faces were there in conversation with Uther's former general, Rodor. And Arthur. He kept his back turned, aware of Arthur approaching him where he stood at the edge of the stone circle. Arthur was here, calm and collected, surrounded by magic users. How could it be that Arthur was less rattled than him in this scenario…? Was this a trick? Where was the moment when all of this fell apart?
"It's not going to work." Merlin tugged at his collar uncomfortably. He didn't like the stiff collared button down shirt or jacket. He missed the soft scarf around his neck and his own worn t-shirt and jeans.
"Merlin." Arthur stopped within arm's reach to watch him. Merlin's face was set in a frown as he paced a couple steps and stretched out a hand to touch another of the rocks. His heart was in his throat. He could feel dozens of other magic signatures in the air around him, unfamiliar ones, energetic ones thrumming nearby, leaving him tense, wary. Why was it that even here, surrounded by other magic users he still couldn't feel safe?
"Even with an alliance between the Druids and Mithian's coalition, we still have to handle the terror attacks in Southern England, find Morgause and keep her from attacking us again, and find all her allies." His fingers were tapping restlessly at the stone as he mentally checked the protections ringing the stone circle. "Even then, the elections could go to another party. People will stand against this. They might not be ready—"
"Merlin." He stopped and looked up. He could feel the chilly air against the back of his neck, the tension in the air that warned of rain, and the cool of the overcast day. It was beautiful in Cumbria, cool and cloudy, but little rays of sunshine peered through the cloud cover here and there, dancing across the lush green of the sprawling field of grass. Merlin shook his head again, despite Arthur's insistent prompting. He couldn't turn around. The presence of other sorcerers' magic was overwhelming. Arthur shouldered him lightly as he followed Merlin's gaze out over the grassy field. "Take a breath," Arthur advised. Merlin blinked and straightened a little, drawing a long breath in. "It might work out," Arthur suggested after a moment. "Mithian's coalition has the support of several sizable parties. They've got a good structure and a well thought out plan to rebuild. That will inspire confidence in people. There are a lot of reasons for this to go well." Merlin swallowed.
"What if it doesn't?"
"Then we regroup and decide our next move." Arthur lifted his shoulders. "They're talking. We're all talking now. It's a move in the right direction. For now, we take it one step at a time." Merlin swallowed down another breath past the lump in his throat and looked up sidelong at Arthur. Both groups had withdrawn to their own contingent to consult. Things had gone well. Almost too well. It made him worried that something was coming—like this was the calm before a terrible storm. As Merlin turned, Arthur put a hand on his shoulder and steered him about towards the inside of the circle. "Look." He tilted his head towards the other occupants.
Merlin watched in mute disbelief. Every moment of it was beyond anything he had imagined when he first set foot in London. Above all, Arthur's steadiness in the face of it left him floored as he stared out at the gathering, representatives of the two worlds from which he and Arthur were born. He had helped make this possible. Could it be that Kilgharrah had been right all along? Arthur had accepted him, had brought people together, brought the possibility of peace. General Rodor, a former subsidiary of Uther's, stood unarmed and calm, ready to welcome magic into the country free and legal. His daughter was at his side. Mithian Rodor, quietly grieving the loss of Gwaine like the rest of them, still held herself with the regal grace and self assurance of a woman twice her years. With her were members of the Coalition of five different political parties.
"I see your girlfriend's here." Arthur had a slight smile on his face. The mere fact Arthur was joking about that still floored Merlin. Freya, England's first Dragonlady, was indeed there, part of the Druids' contingent in place of Balinor, too ill to travel. She represented the dragons and their bonds with sorcerers. Aithusa stayed close beside her, shy and inquisitive, and beside her as well was Iseldir, accompanied by Mordred Witega, last of his family. He was more subdued than Merlin was accustomed to seeing him, despite the assurance that there were no hard feelings for the mishap with Morgana and Arthur.
"She's not… exactly my girlfriend," Merlin answered slowly, distracted. He and Freya had never gotten the chance to talk about what they were, as hard as he'd fallen for her.
"No… you're right." Arthur was smiling, watching her cross the grass with the little dragon beside her. "She might be out of your league." Merlin opened his mouth to protest, but the retort died on his lips.
"What are they doing…?" he breathed. The Druid representatives were and her colleagues of the other parties were, at Iseldir's direction, stepping into the rectangular sanctum at the center, marked off by another set of stones.
"You tell me, Emrys." There was a touch of amusement in Arthur's voice. Avianna Liu was the first to step between the stones with her, an older woman, her jet black hair streaked with gray, meeting Mithian there and extending a hand. Behind her, willowy red-haired Finna Béacenstán followed.
"That's not… my name is still Merlin." He glanced back at Arthur, brows drawn together.
"They all call you Emrys here."
"Wasn't my idea," Merlin argued. The speed with which Arthur was adapting shocked him. It had been Mordred who called him that first, Mordred, last of his family of seers and prophets, then Kilgharrah, then the rest of the Druids. He hadn't ever thought to hear that name come from Arthur's mouth.
"I think they're ready." Arthur interrupted his thoughts. He was watching as Iseldir stepped into the sanctum, leading Mordred with a hand on his shoulder.
"Emrys." Merlin's breath caught. As if on cue, the tallest of the Druids—Aglain—a dark-skinned, broad-shouldered warlock nearly half a foot taller than Merlin, had approached them. "We're ready for you." Merlin was rooted in place, staring at Aglain.
"Merlin." Arthur prompted. His given name caught his attention. He'd been called Emrys more than Merlin today. It made him uncomfortable. He swallowed, frozen.
"You as well, Pendragon," Aglain added. General Rodor had stepped into the sanctum. The two factions were standing across from each other, and the body language spoke of ease. Merlin felt like he'd forgotten to breathe, until Arthur's hand settled on his shoulder.
"We're coming," Arthur said. Merlin managed a weak nod. "Merlin." Arthur's voice coaxed him again. He kept the hand at Merlin's shoulder and propelled them both gently forward when he made no sign of moving. Merlin's feet obeyed as if of their own accord.
"Arthur—" He started with a weak voice.
"No more what ifs." Arthur squeezed his shoulder. "Let's go." Merlin felt weak at the knees as he let Arthur steer him towards the sanctum. Aglain crossed the boundary between two stones first. There were more than a dozen pairs of eyes watching as Merlin hesitated just outside. He felt like he might be sick. What if the answer wasn't what they'd worked for? What if they had questions about what he'd done—the dragon, defending Uther for a moment's madness, his many failures…? Would they interrogate him for killing Nimueh? "Merlin." Arthur was at his shoulder. He looked up, trying to fight down the panicky fluttering of his heart. "Together, right?" Arthur reminded him. His brows were drawn together in a worried frown. Merlin hesitated the barest second, then nodded, and stepped between the boundary stones into the sanctum with Arthur at his side.
He felt the energy around him instantly, the warm and familiar presence of Iseldir's magic mingling with the signatures of Finna, Avianna, and Aglain, among others. Just beyond the stones, he could see other familiar faces watching: Freya, sending him an encouraging smile as Aithusa wound around her legs and Gaius, beside her. People who believed in him and trusted him to set things right. Something was prickling under his skin, right under the surface of the powerful magical energy he could feel around him—perhaps his own anxiety, gnawing deep inside his mind. How could he live up to their faith in him?
"Emrys. It is an honor to have you here with us." Avianna greeted him with an extended hand that he took, feeling his stomach twist. "We have reached an agreement. We would like to extend our gratitude to you." She turned to offer her hand to Arthur as well. "And yourself, Arthur Pendragon, for your public statements and your efforts in bringing us together today."
"You have paid a heavy price to make this possible," Aglain added, looking from Merlin to Mithian, who was sober-faced but steady.
"On behalf of our coalition," she began, "I would like to welcome the Druids into our government as representatives of their own constituency, in the interest of establishing a new administration that accurately represents the needs of all of this country's peoples. We have a long road to atoning for the wrongs done, but our first steps will include the offer of amnesty to all magic users, decriminalization of the use of sorcery, and a place in the government as part of the lawmaking process that should represent and protect the interests of everyone." Behind Merlin, Arthur's hand had returned to his shoulder. His throat was closing. It felt so tight it hurt. Amnesty… decriminalization… He heard Mithian continue in a haze. His heart was beating a painful rhythm against his breastbone. Somewhere in her words, he was aware of the broad strokes: establishing a new government, drafting and instituting new laws that included magic, that protected users' liberty while prohibiting license to harm others by means of sorcery… honoring as a human right the rights of sorcerers to implement their abilities freely without inhibiting the freedoms of others. His eyes fixed on Freya past the stones, on Gaius, both of them wearing smiles of warmth and pride. There would be a new election; seats would be kept in the parliament for members of a party representing magic users and their interests… We're going to be free… Could Arthur have been right—things might turn out?
"Merlin." Arthur's voice was close to his ear. He shook his head, unable to force a word out through his throat. Arthur's fingers dug into his shoulder so hard it almost hurt. He made a faint sound. What had he missed? Everyone had stopped speaking, and there was a confusing tension in the others around him.
"Mordred." Iseldir's voice cut through the silence Merlin hadn't even realized had fallen. Mordred was no longer standing at Iseldir's side. He had stepped into the space between them, and something wasn't right about the way his eyes fixed on Merlin.
"Emrys." Merlin blinked and looked back at him, and before he could open his mouth, clear his throat and try to answer the teenager, to ask what he was doing, Mordred extended a hand and grasped his wrist.
Merlin felt the pull at his core, blinked, and the scene around him vanished, pulled into a dizzying swirl of deep black. Mordred's grip on his wrist was gone all at once. Merlin's feet were on firm ground again, and he stumbled a step. Behind him, Arthur's hand caught on his arm, and he steadied himself. He hadn't known Mordred could teleport. He knew that Iseldir and Morgause could, taxing though it was. Freya could, with Aithusa's help. Beyond that… Mordred was young to have mastered such a skill. And why would he have taken them away from the negotiations?
"What the hell…?" Arthur put his thoughts somewhat more concisely, still standing close by Merlin's shoulder. Wherever they were, it was also close to sunset, and the lighting was dim. Merlin turned his hand over, lighting a mage-light. Arthur's sharp intake of breath turned his head briefly. Arthur was staring at the blue sphere. "That was you?"
"Where are we?" Merlin asked, turning his head sharply. He didn't have time to discuss the blue sphere. He knew Arthur recognized it. He hadn't exactly laid out all the details of what he'd done for Arthur.
"Where's Mordred?" Arthur countered as the mage light pulsed brighter and began to illuminate their surroundings. They were standing in a small clearing, surrounded by trees. Merlin turned warily and lifted his other hand as Mordred stepped out from the shadows close to them. "Mordred, what is this….?" Arthur demanded. Merlin backed up a step, shielding Arthur with his body as he extended his hand towards Mordred, palm out in silent warning. The teenager blinked back at him, and Merlin felt his stomach drop. The hollow look told him everything he needed to know. The signatures of the many other Druids around him had clouded his judgment. He should have trusted his gut, trusted that there was something wrong. It wasn't Mordred behind those eyes. His eyes flashed as he used an impulse of magic to drive Mordred back and pin him to the trunk of a tree, winding powerful binding forces around him. "Merlin, what—?" Arthur started forward as Mordred let out a cry and started to squirm against Merlin's restraints. Merlin shook his head sharply.
"Arthur, he's possessed," he warned in a low voice. "Stay away from him. He's dangerous." Possession. Gaius had said it was forbidden among the Druids. It wasn't the Druids who had done this. Merlin knew even before he felt the warning shiver of her magic signature.
"Merlin Emrys." A voice spoke his name from the shadows of the trees. Merlin turned, keeping himself between Arthur and the newcomer.
"Morgause, it's over. The Druids have made their decision," he said. His eyes darted to the shadows behind her where he could sense Morgana's presence as well. Arthur's hand touched his shoulder again.
"Where are the others?" he breathed. Merlin shook his head.
"You took everything from me." Morgause's eyes were cold, fixed on him, and he felt a sickening chill under them.
"Took what? The agreements are being made right now. We're going to be free."
"You think those treaties work? Did you hear nothing of the lies and deceit Uther practiced to draw us out of hiding?"
"This is different."
"How? You think Uther's pet general won't turn and stab you on the back?"
"I wouldn't let that happen. Arthur wouldn't."
"Won't you?" She curled her lip. "How well have you been able to protect others thus far?" Merlin's stomach dropped. He hadn't… would he even be able to shield Arthur right now?
"Rodor hasn't been killing innocents," Arthur responded for him in a clipped tone.
"He may bide his time. Uther was a patient man too," she said. Merlin set his jaw.
"Uther is gone." Merlin spoke through gritted teeth. There was no reasoning with her. This had to stop. "Neither Arthur nor General Rodor are the same. You will not be the judge in this. These talks are a movement of the people. It's not your place to stop them. I haven't taken anything from you or set out to hurt you. All I've done is try to stop you from harming more innocent people."
"Arthur Pendragon is no innocent." She sneered.
"Neither are you. A person doesn't have to be perfectly innocent to deserve to live and learn," Merlin said tersely. "You of all people should know that, Anna Cornwall." He saw Morgause's eyes flash as she tensed.
"That is not my name," she snarled.
"Call yourself what you like. Changing your name won't erase what you did." He felt the intent shiver through the air before Morgause lashed out with a telekinetic impulse of force. Merlin threw out a hand, and the force of her spell deflected off the rippling energy between them. "Arthur, stand back," he warned quietly. There were three sorcerers in the clearing and there was little Arthur could do against them. Merlin knew how powerful every one of them was, Mordred untested but strong, Morgana and Morgause both highly capable, one a little more experienced. He didn't know how he would protect both himself and Arthur against them, but he had to try. Freya… Freya, I need you! She could get them away, if… if he could somehow reach her and help her find them first. But no one responded. Freya, Aithusa, Kilgharrah, Balinor, Iseldir all felt far, far out of reach. Where had Morgause taken them?
"You can't protect him here. Not alone." Morgause's eyes narrowed.
"Don't do this," he said quietly. Behind him, the soft roll of thunder punctuated his words.
"Are you going to stop me, Emrys?" she sneered.
"I hear it's my destiny," he responded dryly.
"Your destiny was to bring peace to us," Morgause snarled. "And you led us back into the hands of the people who would destroy us." Around them, the trees of the clearing burst into flame. Merlin stretched out a hand behind him to locate Arthur, close at his shoulder still and try to throw up some protection around him, shielding him from the fire behind them. Elemental magic, then… that he knew very well. He drew himself up, beginning to summon down a strong wind to drive the fire as he wanted, away from Arthur and himself.
"Morgana." Merlin threw a look over his shoulder. Arthur had retreated a step. He was looking past Morgause at the figure several steps behind her.
"Arthur, don't," Merlin said. His hand stayed outstretched, energy crackling from his fingers as the clouds gathered overhead. He wasn't sure any appeal was going to help at the moment.
"What have you done with him?" Morgana's voice was sharp. She wasn't looking at Arthur. "Let him go!"
"It wasn't us." Arthur took a step away from Mordred, still pinned against a tree, giving Morgana a wide-eyed look of distress. "Morgause used him to bring us here. Morgana, please don't do this…" Arthur's words seemed unheeded. Morgana had stepped up a little closer, and her face was impassive. Merlin tensed. "I've been trying. I swear. We only want to bring peace—to make things right."
"Let him go!" Morgana shouted as she started forward, moving towards Mordred. Merlin moved rapidly as he felt the flash of warning. He blocked her attempts to neutralize his spell trapping Mordred and fumbled to get control of his first spell. He could feel his hold on Mordred slip fleetingly.
"Morgana, I would never hurt him!" Arthur was shouting over the roar of the growing flames.
"You would bring us into the open to betray us," Morgause spat, her eyes flashing as she turned on Arthur.
"Stay back," Merlin warned, his voice low. The clouds were gathering gray and heavy above his head, and a soft rumble of thunder rolled again in the distance. He could feel them drawing down, bringing the storm he wanted, but he didn't know how long he could maintain his attention on all three fronts. Mordred was fighting him from nearby, wrapped in protection from the fire but held in place, Arthur was shielded, and he could feel Morgana and Morgause both ready to lunge forward.
"Or what?" Morgause laughed.
"You want to find out?" he asked. His fingers curled, and the blue mage light in his hand vanished. Instead, above them, the clouds swirled ominously, gorged with heavy rain, and lit up with flickering blue lightning.
"Morgana." Morgause's voice drew Morgana's attention. She stepped closer to her sister, but there was a tension in her form, and she was distracted, her eyes fixed on a point beyond Merlin. Mordred, thrashing, crying out. She was distracted. Merlin didn't wait.
"Arthur, get back," he snapped. Arthur took a step away from him, just in time as he pulled the winds down to whip around him in a cyclone. The roar of the fire in the trees rose higher into the sky. Morgause laughed.
"Yes, let's see what you can do, Emrys," she sneered. A whiplash of the flames from around them curled around Merlin, and he closed his eyes for a heartbeat, drawing it away from his body and into the whipping winds about him.
"Merlin!" Arthur was shouting behind him. He threw up a shimmering shield behind him to wall Arthur off, and his eyes opened as he sent the fire licking back towards Morgause. She warded it off just as easily, but the distraction was enough. He felt his spell wrapped around Mordred break between Mordred's struggles and Morgana's help. Merlin turned his head just briefly, long enough to see the boy drop to the ground and stumble.
"Mordred!" Morgana was running towards him. The lapse in his attention was too long. He didn't turn in time as Morgause barked out another spell. He was flung off his feet and collided hard with the ground close to the trees.
The air was driven from his lungs. For a moment, spots danced in front of his vision. When he tried gulp air back into them, his mouth and nose were filled with smoke. A blazing branch dropped from above onto him. He coughed, rolling to all fours and away from it as his lungs spasmed, desperate for air, and the heat around him was unbearable, searing at his skin. He didn't even have enough breath to utter a curse, finding the fire licking around his sleeve. He staggered to his feet, scrambling to tear his jacket off a second later and leave it burning on the ground behind him. He was hardly on his feet in time to throw out a hand and block another barrage of flames from Morgause, pursuing him across the clearing.
"No!" He could hear Morgana's shriek across the clearing. He didn't have time to check on what she was looking at. He set his jaw and turned on Morgause, meeting her blazing golden eyes. The fire, wind, and the beginnings of stinging sharp rains were whipping around him. He caught her licking tongues of fire and twisted them into a sharp spiral as he had with Nimueh.
"Back down," he snarled, holding them before him in an ominous, cracking cyclone. The only response he got from Morgause was a laugh. Behind him, he heard a tree groaning, and stepped sideways, using a little burst of energy to push it far enough the flaming branches didn't catch him as Morgause brought it crashing down beside him.
Merlin squinted against the shreds of burning debris that lit on his clothes and hair. The fire and wind around him stretched to whip around him and Morgause in a tight circle, walling them off from the others. He couldn't harness Morgana and Mordred at the same time. He could only trust and hope Gwaine had been right, that Morgana would hear Arthur. She won't hurt Arthur. She doesn't want to hurt Arthur. Was it a mistake to rely on that? He took a step closer to Morgause, curling one hand into a fist.
"Enough," he said. Arthur was shouting beyond him, his voice indecipherable over the roar of wind and fire. Still alive, then. He could hear Arthur and Morgana's voices. He looked only briefly enough to see Morgana crouched beside Mordred on the ground. Arthur stood a few feet off.
He caught Morgause's next whipping lash of fire drawn from the wall about them and flicked it back at her as the thunder clapped overhead, reverberating deep in his chest. The next flashes of lightning flashed down from the clouds, and Morgause crumpled before him as he dropped the wall of flames whipping about them.
She was only temporarily shocked. Merlin stretched out a hand as he crossed the grass to stand above Morgause, pinning her with the same silent binding he'd used for Mordred. Morgause's eyes opened, still burning golden, ineffectual as it was. He kept the fire she was trying to summon harnessed at the edges of the clearing.
"Do it," she snarled. Her words were sharp. He froze, keeping Morgause pinned. Was she that resigned, so quickly? Was she asking him to kill her? He was sickeningly certain he had killed before, both Nimueh and likely the people who came after him and Arthur and Gwaine on the last failed trip to meet for negotiations. But it was never something he wanted, Both occasions had been in the heat of a fight, in fear and self defense or protection of another. He'd never taken a life like this, looking into the eyes of the other person. He took a breath, trying to steel himself. She had earned this, hadn't she? He remembered the invisible wires wrapped around his chest as he tried to rescue Lance, as he realized the empty look behind Lance's eyes and what she'd done to him. He reminded himself of Morgana, bright eyed and eager, passionate, whose energy and fierce sense of justice had been twisted in Morgause's hands. Morgause had done so much harm. If he could end her life, perhaps it would free Lance from his possession, free Mordred, protect Morgana, save Arthur, guard the negotiations against further interference… Could it be that this was justifiable? His fingers trembled as he held them over her chest. "Mordred, do it!" Morgause's voice rose. What? He couldn't feel any warning from Mordred's magic signature, nor Morgana's.
"Mordred, no!" Morgana was shouting. Merlin's eyes snapped up to fix on Morgana's horrified expression. "Merlin, behind you!" She was staggering up off the ground, trying to move towards him. Then the air was punched from Merlin's lungs. He dropped to his knees, catching himself on one hand, and his other arm wrapped around his midriff. His spell holding Morgause fell away like loose ropes. Why couldn't he breathe? He tried to raise his head and came face to face with Mordred. The boy was frozen in place, staring at him–unnaturally still, as if he were being held by magic again. Merlin's ears started to roar with a sound like rushing water.
"Merlin!" Arthur's voice came to him as though he were submerged. Merlin blinked. Everything seemed to be moving slower around him. He felt the jolt of shock through his body, trying to keep himself upright with his hands in the grass.
"What did you do? What did you do to him?" Morgana was screaming. "Mordred… Mordred stop! No!" Morgause extended a hand, her eyes lighting golden, but this time, Morgana stepped between them, her hand thrown out so a shield rippled to life, blocking both Morgause and Mordred from them. Merlin crouched breathless in the grass. His side felt like it was burning white-hot. He closed his eyes.
"Morgana!" Morgause screamed her name.
"Let him go!" Morgana's voice was strong. She was closer now. He slowly opened his eyes.
"Morgana, think about what you're doing." Morgause was glaring at Morgana through the translucent shield. Merlin dug at the grass with his fingers, gritted his teeth as he pulled his knees up under him, then got one foot on the ground. The pain and heat had eased. He had to get up again, to end this. "Mordred is our ally," Morgause insisted. "We needed his help."
"He's a child!" Morgana's voice broke. "Look what you've done to him!" Merlin's free hand shifted to his side. Something warm and wet was soaking his shirt there. "Merlin, stay still," Morgana said. There was a tremor in her voice. Why was she talking to him…? Was she on their side now? Could he trust her? Morgana darted a look at him, and her eyes were wide and frightened. He gathered himself, and straightened up on one knee, and fingers pressed to the grass, steadying himself as the ground seemed to sway under him.
"I did what was necessary." Morgause's voice was nearly lost in the deafening clap of thunder. Beneath Merlin's fingers, the ground began to shake, and lighting flashed down from the sky.
"You used him!" Morgana's words were scarcely past her lips when she dropped her shield. She lashed out with a plume of fire in the same moment that Merlin gathered himself. Morgause raised a hand to defend herself. It did little. The ground trembled under Merlin's fingers as his eyes lit. Morgana's fire met with a maelstrom of forking lighting that flashed down from the sky. For a heartbeat, the spot where Morgause stood was a blaze of blinding light. Thunder shattered the sky above them again, earsplitting, making the whole clearing shake. Then the flames cleared, and where Morgause had stood, the grass was burned and blackened.
Morgana dropped to her knees with a sob. Merlin couldn't see Morgause. Perhaps she'd left… or was she lying in the grass…? Had he killed her? He hadn't noticed Arthur crossing the clearing, but suddenly Arthur was there, right next to him. He was gripping Mordred by the shoulders.
"Modred… Mordred, look at me." Mordred was standing stock still beside Merlin. Arthur's fingers encircled his wrist, and something tumbled from his nerveless fingers into the grass. Merlin blinked down at the knife stained with blood. Morgana was folded double in the grass, clinging to it with both hands.
"Mordred…?" Merlin looked up at him and found a pair of wide, shocked eyes staring back at him. There was blood. A lot of blood. On Mordred's hand, on the knife, in the grass beside him. "Is someone hurt…?" he asked. "Are you alright?" Neither Mordred nor Arthur answered. The world spun about Merlin. He closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he was staring up at the sky. Drops of rain started to spatter his face.
"Merlin…?" Someone was beside him—Arthur, gripping his arm. "Merlin. You're hurt, you idiot. Oh my god… Mordred, I need… give me something. We have to stop the bleeding. Stay with me. Merlin, it's okay. It's going to be okay. It's over. She's gone." Arthur was pressing something to his side. He let out a strangled cry.
"Emrys. I didn't want to do it. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry!" Mordred's voice was frantic. Merlin fumbled for the hands at his side, too weak to stop the painful pressure there.
"Merlin… Jesus. It's alright." Arthur pushed his hands away. "Just hang on. I have to put pressure on it. I'm so sorry." Merlin's vision swam out of focus for a moment.
"Is he going to die?" Mordred's voice.
"He's not going to die. Morgana!" He heard the call as though the voice came to him through ears that were filled with water. "Morgana, please, I need your help." He closed his eyes against the rippling black at the edges of his vision.
When he opened them again, the thunder had stopped, and all that was left was the light downpour, bringing with it a fresh, clean smell as it doused the remaining flames: a soft, sweet drizzle, cool and gentle. Merlin's side had stopped hurting, and all he felt was the misty drops on his face.
"I think… I think I've got someone," Morgana's voice was saying. "Hang on. Just… just hang on."
"Merlin, come on." A hand was touching his cheek, turning his head. He blinked and squinted up at the face hovering over him."Don't do that. Stay with us."
"Arthur," he managed the word forced through his chest which seemed unable to move except in tiny, fluttering breaths. Arthur's face swam into view above him. The pain twinged back through his rib. He felt like he was free-falling, floating, unanchored. His fingers scrabbled for Arthur's arm. "Just…" he forced the words out. "Just… Just hold me. Please."
"Merlin. Easy… I've got you. Lie still. We need to get you help. It'll be alright. Morgana is helping. Mordred's back. You'll be alright. You just have to hang on." Arthur's voice was shaking.
"It's okay." He let his eyes drift shut. Arthur's hand was on his chest. He covered it with one of his own. "S'okay…. It's over."
"No. No, no. It's not over. We're not done. Merlin, stay with me. Don't give up. Merlin!"
"Help is coming. Keep the pressure on." Mordred's voice, shaking. Merlin managed a small breath, inhaling the rich, earthy smell of the summer rain, and the voices were fading out into a soft ringing, accompanied by the patter of the raindrops.
"Arthur…" the name was slurred. It's okay… His next words didn't make it past his lips. His eyes slipped shut. He was too tired. It was okay to close them. It was okay. They had won. Morgana had broken free. Mordred was back. Arthur was safe.
It was over.