Strongest of the Warlocks: Chapter Nineteen: The Dragon-Blade
AN: It's been awhile, but I'm glad Percival's brothers were enjoyable, they're a bunch of nerds that are going to take the mickey out on Percy for having a pretty girl.
I'm going to need to alter a few phrases in the first few chapters because I hadn't originally intended on Iseldir having a bigger role in the fic that he now does, but it's not going to change all that much.
Merlin winced as the sword went into Sir Pellinor and the knight fell. He'd made a killing blow to the Black Knight, but it hadn't done him much good, and the knight had walked it off as though it was just a scratch.
She saw the king lurch towards Arthur, but it was too late. This time around, it was he that threw down his gauntlet with a challenge.
"I, Arthur Pendragon, challenge you," he said, his words echoing in the silence.
"So be it," the knight said flatly.
"Single combat, noon, tomorrow."
The knight gave no reply to that, bringing his sword up to rest against his shoulder as he moved past the crowd to make back for the castle. He passed by Merlin and his head twisted towards her, making Merlin swallow and take a step back.
"What was that about?" Gaius asked her, noticing the attention.
"No idea." Merlin thought it was rather likely that since the wraith that was the knight was conjured of magic, he could probably sense magic like hers close by.
He left her feeling cold and unnatural.
It couldn't be killed by any mortal blade, the thick tomes of Gaius' had proved that well enough, but Merlin wasn't ready to give up just yet.
There were other kinds of swords in the ancient tales, one that Merlin remembered from an old story that Iseldir had told her as a child, about a knight named Sir Marhaus who had a sword heated in a dragon's fire that was said to slay the living and the dead.
It was just a story, but at this point Merlin was willing to place her faith in a story given all the other challengers had failed and perished before Arthur.
Merlin stopped in front of a door, rapping her knuckles sharply on it until Gwen opened the door in surprise.
"Merlin," she said, eyebrows rising on her brow, "what are you doing here?"
"I need a favor," Merlin blurted out with a wince, "and it might get you into trouble with your father."
That got Gwen's attention and she scrutinized her friend closely. "Why? What is it?"
"I need a sword," Merlin admitted, shaking out her hands nervously, "the strongest sword he's ever made, to save Arthur."
Gwen chewed viciously on her lip, clearly caught between wanting to help Arthur live past tomorrow and not wanting to anger her father, but her good heart won.
"Come inside," she said, practically dragging her friend inside and shutting the door behind her. "He's going to kill me for this."
"You can always say it was for a good cause," Merlin offered in what she hoped was a helpful manner.
"I don't think that's going to win me any points with him," Gwen disagreed before stepping through the house to her father's room, creaking it open. Luckily, he wasn't there, or Merlin and Gwen would've had a bit more trouble with taking the sword. As it was, Merlin counted her lucky stars.
Gwen dug under the bed and pulled out what could've only been a sword tucked inside cloth and she unwrapped it carefully with light fingers on the bed. "My father's been saving this," she told Merlin. "He's always said it was the best sword he's ever made."
Merlin weighed it in her hand, her fingers grasping the hilt. She'd never seen Gwen's father work on any of the swords, but she'd Percival at it once, even with the limited resources that had been in Ealdor he'd been able to make a sturdy blade for her. But Merlin's reforged blade was one of Gwen's father's pieces of work and she appreciated his skill in making swords; he was second to none in Camelot.
"It's beautiful," she murmured, tracing a hand along its flat surface, staying away from the sharp edges.
"You think it'll help Arthur tomorrow?" Gwen asked, her brow furrowed and eyebrows drawn together in concern.
"I hope," Merlin said, unease flitting across her face as she tucked the cloth back around the sword. "Get some sleep, Gwen, let me worry about Arthur."
"Sleep?" Gwen couldn't help but roll her eyes at that. "What are the chances I'll actually get any sleep after today?"
Merlin spared her a small smile before thanking her and taking off back in the direction of the castle when something hard grabbed her by the throat and slammed her against the side of the wall.
She choked briefly, still managing to clutch onto the cloth-hidden sword, her head aching from the impact against stone as the world stopped spinning around her and cleared in order for her to see the Black Knight in front of her.
"You reek of magic," the voice intoned deeply and Merlin tightened her grip on the cloth, "witch."
There was so much disdain and disgust in his voice with that single word, but after so many months in Camelot now, she was used to the rather abysmal attitude towards magic. When she'd first arrived, she'd been angry about it, struggling to keep her emotions in line, but not anymore.
"You must be mistaken," Merlin coughed as her voice cracked slightly, "the only thing I reek of is herbs."
"You can't fool everyone, witch," the words were seething behind the mask, "once I kill the prince, I'm coming for you next."
"What's the meaning of this?" a strong voice demanded and Merlin caught sight of a flash of red and she almost sighed in relief. It wasn't Leon, but it was one of the younger knights, Sir Osric. "Release the physician's apprentice, now!"
The gauntlet was removed from Merlin's throat and she could breathe a bit more freely, and the knight gave her one last menacing stare despite having no eyes that Merlin could see before turning away from her.
"You all right, Merlin?" the knight asked her, approaching with a torch in one hand as Merlin massaged her throat.
"Fine," she managed to say.
"What did he want?" Osric brought the torch closer, eyes focused on the flesh of her neck, but the bruises wouldn't show up yet.
"To tell me he's going for me after Arthur," Merlin grimaced and Osric's jaw tightened. All the knights were on edge now that two of their own were dead. Some of them found Arthur irritating, but far less than he used to be –as Leon had informed Merlin gratefully, as though she'd been the cause of the change. Still, Arthur didn't deserve death like Owain and Pellinor had received.
"Let me escort you back inside," Osric said instead and Merlin blinked.
"That's not really necessary," she tried to say, but he cut her off swiftly.
"I insist." His smile was brittle and Merlin knew she wasn't going to get out of it, so she sighed and relented, taking his armored crook of his elbow and trying not to sulk about it, but still glad to get as far away from the knight as possible.
Waiting for Gaius to go to sleep was a trial that Merlin hadn't been expecting. Usually he went to bed rather early, seeing as he was getting up there in age, but this time he was still awake late into the night. Merlin tried not to be irritated about it as she kept her door slightly open, sitting on the floor next to it with the sword in her hands, waiting for him to go to bed.
Merlin was slowly losing feeling in her butt.
He was in his dressing gown, so he must have been close to heading to bed, which Merlin mentally lamented, when the main door opened and she found herself staring at Uther.
"I'm sorry," was the first thing the king said as he quietly shut the door behind him and Merlin briefly wondered if he was possessed in any capacity, because Uther was the type to demand respect and never offer apologies even when he was proven wrong. "You knew that one day this business would come back to haunt me."
"Not quite so literally," Gaius said simply and Merlin frowned.
What did they mean?
"I should've listened to you," Uther conceded, bowing his head just slightly. "You said that no good would come of using witchcraft at Arthur's birth."
Merlin's eyes blew wide at that. After all this, after the Purge and all the dead sorcerers and druids at the king's hand…he had used magic for his own personal gain. The absolute hypocrite.
"You wanted an heir," Gaius said with understanding. "You thought it was the only way."
Merlin was incensed. How could he be so understanding towards Uther? Uther who had killed hundreds upon hundreds of their kind and was still doing so. Merlin couldn't understand it.
"Nimueh told me there would be a price to pay."
Well, of course he'd turned to the woman who had tried so hard to kill Merlin with that poisoned chalice. But why wouldn't he have, she thought bitterly. According to Gaius she was the High Priestess of the Old Religion at one point.
"You weren't to know that that price would be Ygraine's life."
Uther didn't speak for a moment, rubbing his fingers together as if he was nervous. "I cannot let Arthur die."
"Then you must stop the fight," Gaius pressed, taking a step forward.
"No, I will take his place," Uther countered and Gaius very nearly gaped at him.
"Do you know what you're saying?" Gaius asked him carefully as if treading over eggshells.
"Ygraine gave up her life for him. So must I," he said resolutely, as though he'd thought long and hard on the decision. Yet, dying for one's son would not negate a lifetime of slaughter.
"Uther—" Gaius' tone intended to reason, but Uther would see none.
"I have no other choice," the king said.
"There must be another way," Gaius countered, wringing his hands together as he stood in front of the king.
"My death will stop the wraith and Arthur will live," Uther said, like the knowledge of that alone to absolve him of his sins. Merlin very much doubted that. "But it means you are the only person left who knows the truth about Arthur's birth. I want you to swear to me that you will keep your oath."
Gaius bowed his head and Merlin had no doubt in what he would say next. "I will take it to my grave."
Those five words seemed to take the most weight off Uther's shoulders as raised a hand to rest on Gaius' own. "You have always been a good friend," he said, "despite my temper." He gave Gaius a flash of a smile that Merlin almost didn't believe had been there in the first place.
"I always thought that would be the death of you," Gaius agreed and the smile he earned was a bit more obvious than the last.
Uther squeezed Gaius' shoulder briefly. "I have one other favor to ask."
Merlin's eyes narrowed suspiciously.
She waited until they'd both gone, with Gaius changing back into his clothes and carrying a bottle with him that Merlin was almost certain was filled with a sleeping draught, before taking the sword and creeping down the stairs and out of the physician's quarters.
Merlin was becoming quite familiar with all the hidey holes in the castle that finding a way down the caves under the castle without guards to bypass was getting easier and easier.
The last corner was rounded and then Merlin found herself looking upon the Great Dragon.
"Merlin," Kilgharrah said, unsurprised.
"Kilgharrah," Merlin replied in kind. She noticed that the dragon was always a bit more willing to help her when she used the name that he hadn't heard in ages. "I need your help."
"You usually do," Kilgharrah returned, smoke leaving his nostrils like he was snorting in amusement, resituating himself on the rocks beneath him.
"I need a sword that can kill those that are already dead," Merlin said without preamble. "I've heard that a blade forged in dragon's breath can do just that."
Kilgharrah considered her silently for a moment. "You are rather to the point, that's a quality I admire in you, Merlin."
Merlin paused. "You do?" She honestly didn't know how to respond, because it seemed to her that the Great Dragon had just paid her a compliment.
"But," Kilgharrah said, "all things come with a price, even a weapon as grand as one forged in a dragon's breath. The dead do not return without reason. Who has he come for?"
Merlin couldn't lie. "Uther."
"Then let vengeance be taken and the wraith will die," Kilgharrah remarked unconcerned. "You have never been the type to want to save the one who caused the downfall of the Old Religion."
Teeth gritted behind her lips. "I hate Uther," she agreed coldly, "but he's not the one that took up the challenge, Arthur did. And the wraith told me that once he's through with Arthur, he's coming for me next."
"A surprising development." Kilgharrah brought his head closer to her level, giving a loud sniff. "Powerful magical beings can gain a certain smell that tells others like them of their magical might, generally only creatures of the Old Religion can manage it, but I suppose that a conjured wraith could have the same ability."
Merlin supposed that most of the wraith's anger was Tristan du Bois own that not even death could rob him of.
Then Kilgharrah spoke once more. "A weapon forged with my assistance will have great power, but as I said, there are consequences."
"What kind of consequences?" Merlin asked.
"In the wrong hands, this sword—" The sword in question floated out from under the cloth that Merlin had been keeping it hidden under to hang in the air. "This sword could do great evil. It must be wielded by Arthur and him alone. Power can be dangerous, as you well know."
Merlin nodded seriously. "And after the duel? What should I do with it, then?"
"I do not believe he is yet ready for the sword," Kilgharrah agreed. "Take the sword far from here and place it where no mortal man can find it."
The Lake of Avalon sprang to mind.
"Yes," Kilgharrah said, reading her mind, "it will be safe there. Heed my words, young warlock, or you will face the consequences yourself."
"I will," Merlin promised. "I swear."
And then Kilgharrah released the flame that enveloped the sword, until it hung in the air, a gleaming plate of gold against the metal with markings that on one side said 'take me up' and the other 'cast me away'.
But there was no doubt of its skill and Merlin would see to it that only Arthur wielded it, too worried of how Kilgharrah would respond if she didn't.
Arthur's room was shut when she reached in and Merlin pulled down on the handle, but it was no use, someone had locked.
"Are you bloody serious, Gaius?" she grumbled under her breath. She could've done it with magic, she supposed, but Merlin was rather wary about using magic around the castle after a few near misses, camouflaging the sword as Arthur's usual one to keep from arousing suspicion was the last one she'd done several minutes ago when she'd been hidden in the catacombs.
She huffed in exasperation, propping the sword against the wall before drawing hands up to her hair and pulling the new pins from her hair.
They were delicate work and Merlin was very impressed with Percival's handiwork, but she suspected it was easier to make things like it with the proper materials and supplies. It took skill to hide lock picks in the form of hair pins.
She inserted the two pins, twisting around a few moments until she heard a click. Merlin smirked to herself, tucking the pins back into her hair and grabbing the sword and entering the room.
It was completely dark within, but Merlin had been finding her way around the dark for ages now that it was second nature. But, it would be a bit more helpful if she did have some light.
Merlin fumbled to find the candle, lighting it by blowing on it, her eyes gleaming gold in the darkness. The flame gleamed brightly and Merlin winced before setting the sword on the table and heading in the direction of the Arthur's bed.
The prince was fast asleep, seemingly.
But Merlin doubted that very much as she sat down on the bed, bringing the candleholder close to his face, opening one eye with two fingers in order to see how dilated the eye was.
"Hey, can you hear me?" Merlin asked loudly, slapping his cheek lightly, only to get no response. "You know, this is just sad, Arthur. You have to know that a nerve tonic tastes different that a sleeping draught, it's not as though it's a very subtle difference, Arthur!"
But the blond remained oblivious to her berating him.
Merlin rolled her eyes. "Áwæcne," she murmured, her eyes blazing gold and his eyes shot open before yelping at the sight of his maidservant so close to him. "Oh, calm down, I'm not the one that drugged you."
"Drugged –what?" His tongue didn't appear to working properly and Merlin remained unimpressed.
"Listen to me, hey, listen to me or I'm going to hit you again!" Merlin added rather heatedly as Arthur drew up his blankets to his neck, trying to get away from her. "Gaius drugged you on your father's orders."
That got his attention. "What?" he demanded. "Drugged?"
"He intends to take your place against the knight tomorrow," Merlin said and his eyes widened.
"What? But he can't!"
"I think you underestimate how much your father loves you," Merlin said shortly, setting the candleholder down on the bedside table. "You would've slept through the duel if I didn't give you the antidote. You're welcome."
Arthur flopped back against the cushions with an audible groan before shooting forward when she made to leave. "Wait, Merlin!"
Merlin paused, turning back.
"I need you to do me a favor." He sounded so much like his father had been to Gaius only hours ago.
"What? You want me to drug your father and lock him in his room?" Merlin asked dryly, rolling her eyes only to freeze at the ominous silence. "Oh, you can't be serious, Arthur! I'm not drugging the king, I could be hanged for that!"
"Merlin!" Arthur insisted, stopping her cold. "If my father goes out there, he could die! He's not as young as he used to be."
Merlin grimaced, throwing her head back and glaring at the ceiling. "Fine," she growled, "but if I end up hanged for this, I'm haunting you until the day you die."
But she couldn't deny she'd gain some pleasure from drugging the king. The hypocrite certainly deserved worse.
Arthur swung his sword with precision, spreading his feet on the ground, standing opposite the Black Knight. There was the bang of a drum, and the battle began.
The Knight moved first, slamming his sword against Arthur's, slicing at the shield. He was vicious and aggressive. And it seemed that he was forcing Arthur back more than anything else, but Arthur hadn't given up yet.
Merlin bit at the corner of her lip, wincing at every strike of the sword. Luckily now Arthur was gaining some ground, before lunging forward to collide the hilt of the sword against his helmet, and it went flying off.
The face that turned back was mummified and not of this world.
Enjoying the fight? The words echoed in Merlin's head and she stiffened suddenly, scanning the crowd for that face until she caught sight of a young woman in a cloak with piercing blue eyes. You're playing a dangerous game, Merlin. It would be a tragedy after saving him for so long for him to die now.
We'll see about that, Merlin dared, even as the Knight battered down on Arthur's shield, forcing the blade from his hand, only for the wraith's sword to end up stuck fast in the shield, giving Arthur just enough time to stab the wraith through the middle and it stumbled back, the spot glowing with a heat of a fire and a second later it blew up before them all.
Merlin barely heard the cheers, her eyes fixing on Nimueh. She caught a flash of anger that quickly settled into befuddlement.
Until next time, Merlin, Nimueh spoke in Merlin's mind. There is more to you that I have yet to learn.
That odd phrase caused Merlin's brow to furrow, but when she looked back, the sorceress had gone and Arthur had ripped off his helmet to raise his sword.
He turned back towards Merlin, giving her the barest incline of his head of recognition and Merlin's lips twisted faintly as she shook her head in fond exasperation.
"Merlin, wait a moment."
The sword that Kilgharrah had tempered with his flame was hidden under a blanket as she brought Triton out of the stables, surprised to see the king striding towards her, his face set in a frown and Merlin steeled herself.
"Majesty," she said politely, giving the man a short bow, hiding her disdain for him rather well, "how may I help you?"
"My son has had words with me concerning the events of this morning," Uther said, like there was something soul between his teeth. "I was ready to have you in the stocks for your actions, girl."
Merlin's hands tightened over the reins. "That's your choice, Sire."
"Yet," Uther continued and Merlin focused her attention on him once more, "you have shown him the most extraordinary loyalty, beyond the line of duty."
Merlin shrugged. "Maybe I think he'll be a fine king someday."
"He will," Uther agreed with his eyes glinting in pride. "But I think he confides in you more than most."
"I don't think that's true," Merlin countered quickly, only to have her words stalled at his raised hand.
"It is," Uther said. "He trusts you more than any servant he's had before and I don't quite understand it."
Merlin thought she should defend herself, but she wasn't quite sure what part of herself she should be defending.
"I'm glad for it," he said finally. "Loyalty is something hard won."
"Thank you, Sire," Merlin said, bowing her head again, and with that said, the king left her feeling a bit befuddled.
"I thought for sure you were going to be put in the stocks," Neal, the stable-hand mentioned, whistling a tune as he wiped his hands with a stained cloth.
Merlin rolled her eyes. "I'm sure I only escaped that fate by the skin of my teeth."
"It always helps to have a pretty face," Neal responded agreeably, throwing a wink in her direction and Merlin scoffed loudly before throwing her weight onto one leg and hoisting herself up into the saddle. "Have a nice ride, Merlin."
Merlin gave a small wave before leaning down slightly to whisper: "Let's see how fast you can get us to the Lake of Avalon and back, Triton, and there might be a few good apples and sugar cubes in it for you."
Triton nickered before starting to trot until they reached the outer walls, and then he surged forward, racing over the path and Merlin's laughter was lost to the air.
AN: Don't know when the next update will be, sorry, but I hope this ties you over until the next one.
As always: PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW!
