Another's Favor by ebhg

Rating: T

Pairings: Merthian/Arwen

Spoilers: Series 1-4 and up to episode 4 of Series 5.

Disclaimer: Merlin belongs to BBC.

A/N: Thanks for the wonderful reviews, they really make my day! This is another of my favorite chapters, so I hope you all will enjoy it just as much!


The Cauldron of Arianrhod

Merlin and Mithian made their way back to their chambers, staying to the shadows to avoid the nightly patrols. Mithian was hard-pressed not to laugh when Merlin used subtle magic to distract a group of guards lingering in the courtyard.

"It's no wonder why you always wanted to escort me to my chambers," Mithian chuckled as all three guards went chasing after Merlin's conjured noises. The warlock nodded ruefully at his wife.

"Believe me, I've been wanting to discuss the castle's security with Arthur for some time. Unfortunately, I haven't said anything because the lax security has served my purposes as well," Merlin said regretfully before chuckling humorlessly. "It's not like I could have said anything before, anyways. It's rather difficult to say how it is that you've noticed the deplorable security when the only reason you know that is because you've been breaking the law."

"Soon you won't have to hide and skulk in the dark anymore," Mithian said reassuringly, hating the subtle, self-deprecating tone in Merlin's voice and attitude.

"I hope that's true," Merlin replied, appreciating Mithian's attempt to lighten his sudden melancholy. They walked in silence the rest of the way, ducking into an alcove when two guards walked by discussing the gossip they'd heard at The Rising Sun. Finally, a few corridors away from their chambers, Mithian looked challengingly at Merlin.

"No cheating," Mithian warned as she sternly pointed a finger at the warlock, causing Merlin to look at her incredulously.

"What are you talking about?" he asked.

"Catch me if you can," she whispered, eyes sparkling as she smiled challengingly at Merlin and took off, running down the hallway.

"Hey!" Merlin whisper-shouted, belatedly setting off in pursuit. Mithian's soft laughter rang through the corridors. Merlin darted around a corner just in time to see the flare of Mithian's dark cloak disappearing around the next. Mithian had just reached their door when Merlin caught up to her, grabbing a hold of her and spinning her around to face him. They were both laughing breathlessly as Merlin picked her up as he had on their wedding night and used magic to wordlessly open the door as he kissed her.

Pulling back and looking at Mithian's sparkling eyes, Merlin raised an eyebrow as he willed the door shut.

"What was that about cheating?" he laughed as the latch quietly snicked shut and the bolt slid into the lock.

"You've got magic; I've got to take advantage where I can," Mithian said airily, giggling at Merlin's raised eyebrow.

"Is that so?" Merlin asked, silencing the princess' mischievous laughter when he leaned in to claim her lips once more. Merlin moved further into their room, Mithian still brushing over his lips with her own, until a throat cleared in the darkness, freezing them in place.

"Please, don't stop on our account," Arthur's voice called out with false cheer.

"Arthur?!" Merlin exclaimed, putting Mithian on her feet and muttering, "Bæl on bryne."

The sconces and candles immediately lit, revealing a grinning Arthur sitting at their table, his feet propped up as he leaned back in the chair. Gwen sat beside him, struggling to contain her grin even as her cheeks burned red. Mithian stood tall, smoothing her tunic down and putting on her most proper, regal face.

"Arthur, Guinevere," she greeted, as though Merlin hadn't just been chasing her rather indecorously down the hallway and they hadn't been kissing one another in a manner unfit for public display mere moments before. "Can we help you with something?"

"We were thinking rather the same thing," Gwen offered when Arthur could only grin cheekily at Merlin's consternated glare.

"What exactly did you need then?" Merlin asked frustratedly. Arthur could hold back no longer, laughing hysterically until he hiccupped. Gwen patted the king on the back as he did his best to compose himself.

"Imagine our surprise..." Arthur began, looking mirthfully at his wife, "...when Guinevere and I saw a certain pair of people leaving the city after sundown this evening. Especially since a certain half of that pair was holed up in his chambers all day, resting," Arthur teased.

"Of course he was resting," Mithian said, blushing as Arthur and Gwen each raised an eyebrow in disbelief.

"In any case, I decided I ought to go to the highest sentry point in the castle and see if I could discover what would draw two such people from the castle in the dark. On a moonless night like this one, it was almost impossible to see anything, but I could have sworn I heard something large and flappy," Arthur mused in false bewilderment.

"Flappy?!" Merlin snorted. "Don't ever refer to Kilgharrah as flappy in front of him. He may not want to kill you, but he certainly wouldn't hesitate to singe you a bit."

"Are you then admitting to liaising with such a creature?" Arthur asked facetiously.

"We went to speak to the dragon," Merlin confirmed with an eye roll before Arthur could say anything more.

"About?" the king asked, dropping the playful demeanor.

"Reversing the Teine Diaga, of course," Merlin responded.

"Good. You can tell me these things now, Merlin."

"I'll remember that the next time I've got to talk to Kilgharrah for Camelot's sake," Merlin assured the king. Arthur nodded.

"Did the dragon know anything?" Arthur asked hopefully. Merlin nodded.

"What do we need to do? Elyan said that Mordred was in a right state after spending all night and all day confined to his chambers."

Merlin relayed what Kilgharrah had said, while Mithian filled in a few details here and there.

"How are we going to get him into the water willingly?" Gwen asked, looking at the others in obvious concern.

"That's something we'll have to tackle when we get there. Whilst others were lazing about today," Arthur said with false pomposity, "I've been surveying the latest maps of Camelot, and from what I understand, the Cauldron of Arianrhod is at least a three day journey from here. I feel we should leave as soon as we can."

"I'll let the others know first thing in the morning," Merlin answered.

"No, I think we need to keep this as small and unobtrusive as possible. Just you and I will take Mordred. You can keep him asleep," Arthur replied. "The fewer the better."

"And should we run into anyone less than friendly?" Merlin asked sensibly.

"Honestly, Merlin, between me, you and your dragon, I think we'll be fine."

Merlin smiled at the confidence Arthur had in him. It was nice, he mused, being included in a quest because of his magical skills rather than his servant skills.

"With just Mordred and the two of us-" Arthur began.

"Three. I'm going as well," Mithian interjected. Arthur's eyes widened.

"I cannot in good conscience allow you to come, Mithian. This will be a very dangerous quest," Arthur protested.

"You said yourself, between you, Merlin and his dragon we'll be fine. I can help, too; you know I'm an excellent shot with a crossbow."

"Mithian-" Arthur reasoned, though the princess cut him off.

"I cannot stay here and watch Merlin leave again. He nearly died a few days ago; I will not be left behind a second time."

Arthur and Mithian stared at one another challengingly. Merlin knew better than to get in between them. Finally, the king sighed and relented.

"Very well," Arthur said, then looked at Merlin. "Have you had any funny feelings lately?"

"No, though I have little doubt that Morgana's finding herself a new horde to fight for her, I believe that she is not likely to stray far from Camelot. She may not want to expend her strength transporting herself over great distances every time she wants to speak to Mordred or feed him information. Not only that, as a seer, she'll have plenty of warning if we take too long to act."

Arthur nodded, rubbing his chin in thought.

"Then I feel that we must act quickly to prevent any action on Morgana's part. Do you feel rested enough?"

"I'm perfectly rested," Merlin answered in his typically cheerful tone. Arthur smiled gratefully at his First Advisor and gave a brief nod.

"Then we'll leave before first light."


There were still stars twinkling in the sky when Guinevere bid the king a safe journey and farewell while still in their chambers. With her favor tied firmly around his arm, Arthur met Merlin and Mithian in the corridor outside the royal bedchambers. The three of them moved as silently as possible, stopping only once they were in front of Mordred's chamber door.

"Having a little party, are we?" Gwaine asked, as he and Leon were taking a turn at watch.

"We're using the cover of darkness to sneak out and travel to the Cauldron," Arthur explained.

"You're a day early," Gwaine said, narrowing his eyes. "You wanted at least two days rest, you've only had one."

"Are you worried about the quest, Sire?" Leon asked worriedly. "Is there an attack rumored?"

"Not necessarily. We're trying to prevent one," Arthur answered. Gwaine raised an eyebrow at the king's words.

"We've a three day journey ahead of us. Morgana must be intending to stay close by the city with such a well-placed spy; hopefully, she hasn't realized that we know about Mordred. We want to get out of the city before Morgana has a chance to realize that we're gone," Merlin explained. Gwaine and Leon nodded.

"We'll come with you," Gwaine offered.

"No, we're trying to keep our numbers small," Arthur argued.

"But you're taking the Princess?" Gwaine asked incredulously as he pointed at Mithian.

"They aren't taking me anywhere, I'm going of my own free will and demand," Mithian replied, showing the crossbow slung over her shoulder. "I'm a decent shot, I can hold my own."

"I stand corrected," Gwaine chuckled. "Watch out for Merlin, though, would you? He attracts ruffians and thugs like bees to honey."

"Hey!" Merlin protested, looking at Gwaine indignantly.

"Open the door Leon, we need to get Mordred and get out of here," Arthur said. Gwaine nodded along.

"I'll go get some horses and wait for you by the south gate," Gwaine offered.

"Thank you, Gwaine, that's what I'd hoped for; just three, though. If we take too many their absence will be noticed much faster," Arthur instructed. Then he turned to Merlin.

"You know what to do."

Merlin nodded and moved closer to the door, Arthur right behind him. Mithian held back, staying in the hall as the king and his warlock entered Mordred's chambers. Leon closed the door behind the two men and they paused just inside the entryway, allowing their eyes to adjust to the darkness within the room.

"Let's find him quickly and get him ready to go," Arthur whispered.

Merlin tentatively stepped further into the room, only to catch a hastily thrown helm, a goblet and a pair of boots with his magic before they could hit him or Arthur.

"Mordred!" he called out sharply as though scolding an unruly child. Merlin peered into the deepest shadows in the direction the thrown objects came from. Suddenly, Mordred came charging from the shadows, a scream on his lips and a long knife in his hands. Arthur tensed, ready to meet the young knight's charge with force, but with a flare of gold and a fisted hand, Merlin halted Mordred and flung the knife away before the knight could do any damage.

"Swefnu!" Merlin incanted, then rushed forward to grab a hold of Mordred before the younger man could crumple bonelessly to the floor. Arthur slowly straightened from his ready position and looked at his First Advisor appraisingly.

"Gwaine was right; this magic lark is pretty handy. Nicely done," Arthur murmured. Merlin chuckled under his breath and smiled. Arthur smiled and patted Merlin on the shoulder, then sobered as he took in the sleeping knight.

"Let's go."


Mithian led the way to the south gate, furtively checking around each corner along the way. Arthur and Merlin followed behind, each with one of Mordred's arms slung over their shoulders. The corridors and outdoor paths were deserted, making their route easier than Merlin had expected.

As promised, Gwaine was waiting just outside the south gate with a group of horses. Once Arthur came closer, though, he counted them with a confused scowl.

"Gwaine? Why did you saddle four mounts!? I said three!"

"Well, there are four of you," Gwaine began.

"Merlin can share with Mithian, I'm sure they won't mind the close quarters," Arthur argued.

"That was my thought exactly. With four horses, Mordred and you and I can all have our own horse, and the sweet young lovers can share," Gwaine explained.

"I never said you could come!" Arthur exclaimed irritatedly.

"See, that's your problem. You assumed that I cared about what you said. I'm coming; someone has to watch your backs."

Arthur growled and moved to his horse, muttering curses under his breath as he pulled himself into the saddle. Then the king looked indignantly at a smirking Merlin.

"This is your fault, you know. You're a bad influence on him," Arthur groused.

"Me?!" Merlin asked indignantly.

"Who else is there who disregards my orders with such obstinacy?"

"Apparently, Gwaine," Merlin answered as he helped the knight in question lift Mordred's sleeping form onto a horse and secure him with a flash of his eyes and a whispered spell.

"Believe me, Arthur, I've bad habits enough without any influence from Merlin, here," Gwaine chuckled, swinging himself into his saddle.

Merlin grinned and climbed up behind Mithian. Sharing a horse was much easier now, Merlin mused. There was no question of where to put his hands as he wrapped his arms around Mithian while she handled the reins. Merlin pulled her into his chest and put a kiss on her cheek that did not go unnoticed by the king.

"If I hear one giggle out of you two, you're sharing with Gwaine, Merlin," Arthur threatened, scowling at the warlock only half-teasingly.

"I'll be sure to keep my flirtations to a minimum," Mithian said facetiously.

"I'd promise to keep my hands to myself, but well," Merlin shrugged, gesturing to his hold on Mithian's waist. Arthur grimaced at Merlin, giving an exaggerated shudder before giving the order to move out.


After a long day of riding, Merlin was glad to be camped for the night. Gwaine took on the care of the horses, brushing them down and feeding them while Merlin cooked their supper over the fire. Mithian began the task of laying out bedrolls while Arthur consulted the maps he had brought along with them.

After ladling some of the stew into bowls for everyone else, Merlin took a small serving of the broth and spooned it slowly into Mordred's mouth. The young knight seemed to be handling the journey fairly well, but even unconscious, he exuded an empty aura that made Merlin's spine tingle.

"Thank you, Merlin."

The warlock looked up at Arthur in surprise. He'd not heard the king come so close.

"It's no problem," Merlin answered, spooning another mouthful of broth into Mordred and coaxing the unconscious man to swallow it.

"I know you've never liked Mordred or that I knighted him. I'm grateful that you're helping me do this," Arthur replied, much to Merlin's surprise. He hadn't realized that Arthur had noticed his distrust of the young man.

"It's not that I dislike him," Merlin protested. "I just can't help being distrustful of him, considering what I've seen. Kilgharrah told me years ago, when Mordred was just a boy, that he was destined to kill you. I had almost forgotten about him until we were looking for the missing patrols up north. In the cave beside the slaughtered village, the Lochru showed me a vision of a young knight killing you. Then that same young man turned up with those bandits working for Morgana and introduced himself as Mordred. It was like my worst nightmare was coming true."

"It must be burdensome to see the future," Arthur mused, knowing that he would do anything in his power to stop it if he had been shown a vision of Merlin's death.

"It is," Merlin agreed. "Three times now, I have been given a glimpse into the future, and three times I have agonized over why I saw those particular things, and how I was meant to change it when I've had to do everything on my own and in secret. I'm still wondering how to fix the last one," Merlin said, looking at Arthur pointedly before spooning more broth into Mordred's mouth.

"Perhaps together, we can change the future," Arthur said, and Merlin knew that it wasn't just the vision of Arthur's death that the king was referring to.

"Are you prepared to change more than twenty years of hate and persecution, even when the council objects?"

"Especially when the council objects," Arthur said with a grin, causing Merlin to chuckle in spite of the seriousness of their conversation.

"You are prepared to go against your father's most fundamental beliefs and change the laws he enacted?" Merlin asked seriously.

"When I was speaking to my father's ghost a few months ago, I told him that I had to rule Camelot in the way that I saw fit; that I couldn't rule the way he had. I told him that he'd had his turn and now it's mine. I think it's time that I follow through with those words."

"I've been waiting the better part of a decade to hear you say that," Merlin said gratefully, putting down the now-empty bowl and wiping his hands on his trousers.

"You know, for as much as you prattle on, I'm amazed that you managed to keep your big mouth shut for so long about having magic."

"Funnily enough, that's exactly why I prattle."

"Excuse me?" Arthur laughed. Merlin smiled ruefully.

"When I was very young, I had a hard time not talking about magic, since it was such a significant part of my life. Understandably, my mother had to find a way to keep me from saying something damning inadvertently. So she told me that anytime I wanted to tell someone about magic, I should talk about anything except magic until the desire passed. Unfortunately, it became a bit of a habit."

"A bit?" Arthur laughed. "I'd hate to see what you call a real habit."

"Stop your jabbering and come eat before I take it all," Gwaine called out as he cleared the last of the dregs from his bowl. "Excellent, as usual, Merlin."

The warlock smiled and nodded his thanks as he, Arthur and Mithian tucked into their bowls in comfortable silence. Gwaine leaned against a nearby tree and was asleep in moments, having been up for nearly a full day.

"I'm going to get some rest," Arthur said, moving to his bedroll. "Wake me in a few hours to take watch."

Mithian leaned closer to Merlin as soon as Arthur's soft snores were heard.

"Soon," she whispered, and Merlin knew she spoke of magic's return.

"Soon," he repeated, wrapping his arm around her and pulling her into his side to keep her warm. Mithian looked up into his eyes and smiled hopefully.

"You'll be free."


In the late morning on the third day, Arthur called a halt as they crested a hill overlooking a rocky ravine. An imposing mountain range rose up on the far side of the narrow valley. The crumbling grey cliffs were rough and uneven, the craggy ravine floor looking as though it might crumble under foot.

"The Cauldron of Arianrhod is supposed to be on the westernmost peak," Merlin said, following the ridgeline with his eyes. Mithian, sitting behind him, leaned around her taller husband to take in the mountains ahead of them.

"We've got a climb ahead of us then," she mused.

"Of course we do," Gwaine groaned. "It seems we've been questing rather a lot since you came into our lives, Princess."

"You didn't have to come," Arthur reminded the knight.

"What fun would that be?" Gwaine grinned. "This is how I like life, Arthur; never a dull moment."

"Nothing is ever dull with you around, Gwaine," Merlin laughed.

"We'll take the horses as far as we can, then we'll go on foot," Arthur proposed, kicking his horse into motion. Everyone fell into line behind him, carefully guiding their mounts around the loosest patches of gravel. Finally, a third of the way to the summit, the horses could go no further, the rocks slipping under their hooves leaving them anxious and easily spooked.

"On foot from here," Arthur ordered, and the four of them divided their gear among them, Arthur slinging Mordred over his shoulder.

The path up the mountain was well-worn, marked by the hundreds of previous visitors. Merlin could feel the magic of the Cauldron half-way up the mountain. The sudden tingle of energy that raced over his body made him stop abruptly. Gwaine nearly ran into Merlin, standing frozen as he was in the middle of the path. Only Avalon or The Isle of the Blessed could compare in its powerful magical signature.

"Merlin?" Gwaine asked as he stepped in front of the warlock. Mithian and Arthur, walking ahead of them on the path, both turned around at Gwaine's question.

"What is it?" Mithian asked, coming back to look worriedly into Merlin's stunned eyes.

"The Cauldron," Merlin finally managed.

"What about it?" Arthur asked, somewhat alarmed.

"I can feel it," Merlin whispered staring blankly ahead of him as he reached out with his senses.

"From here?" Mithian asked.

"Are we close then?"

Merlin shook his head at Arthur's question and pulled his awareness back into himself.

"We're maybe halfway," Merlin answered.

"This is a powerful place then? Or just a powerful warlock?" Gwaine asked curiously.

"It's the most powerful magical aura I have felt outside The Isle of the Blessed or The Lake of Avalon," Merlin admitted.

"And a powerful warlock," Mithian said proudly, tingeing Merlin's cheeks with red.

"If we're only halfway, we should get moving," Arthur ordered and Merlin nodded, shaking his head to clear it.

An hour later, they finally crested the top of the ridge, pausing to look down on the bowl that made up the Cauldron. The waters were a vibrant blue, the bottom clearly visible. Arthur hefted Mordred higher onto his shoulder before picking his way down the sloped embankment towards the rocky shore.

Merlin, Mithian and Gwaine followed close behind, watching their feet as the rocks slipped and slid beneath them. Once beside Arthur, Merlin looked up and around at the high cliffs surrounding the Cauldron, protecting it from the high winds prevalent on mountaintops. However, the warlock couldn't shake the feeling of unease that plagued him. One of his funny feelings, perhaps, Merlin mused. While the walls sheltered the waters, they also provided an excellent place to ambush someone down in the basin of the Cauldron.

"Let's not linger too long," Merlin cautioned, noticing both Arthur and Gwaine studying the ridgeline as he had.

"I think you're right," Arthur murmured, laying Mordred down on the embankment and looking questioningly at Merlin.

"What now?" Gwaine asked the question on all their minds. Mithian held her bow at the ready, eyeing the cliffs around them while the men knelt down beside Mordred.

"I'll need to wake him. Arthur, you and Gwaine will have the best chance of getting him into the water willingly," Merlin explained, waiting until Arthur and Gwaine both nodded before looking down at Mordred once more.

"What if he doesn't do it willingly?" Gwaine interrupted just as Merlin was about to utter the spell to wake the unconscious knight.

"Then he'll be under Morgana's control until the day he dies," Merlin said seriously. Gwaine raised his eyebrows.

"Best he goes willingly then," the knight agreed. Merlin nodded, then looked down at Mordred once more.

"Tóbregdan, Mordred. Níede slæpest un máne!"

Mordred blinked slowly for a minute while he looked around him at Merlin, Arthur and Gwaine. Then he sat up abruptly, looking suspiciously at them, though he scowled in Merlin's direction.

"Why have you brought me here?" Mordred asked. Merlin could see the involuntary shiver that ran down Mordred's spine. It gave the warlock hope that Mordred's sense of magic hadn't been entirely locked away.

"Mordred," Arthur said, gaining the knight's attention.

"My Lord?" Mordred asked, though there was a hint of disrespect in his eyes that had never been there before.

"This is called The Cauldron of Arianrhod," Arthur explained, looking over his shoulder at the water. "We've brought you here because Morgana has put you under an enchantment."

"What are you talking about?" Mordred asked suspiciously.

"You have been put under the Teine Diaga," Arthur answered. "We brought you here to cleanse you in the waters."

"I don't want to do anything you want me to," Mordred answered petulantly. Merlin held his breath as Arthur and Gwaine both smiled disarmingly at the young knight.

"Come on mate," Gwaine said, smiling wider. "You're our brother; we want to see you get better."

"There's nothing wrong with me," Mordred growled. Then Merlin had an epiphany.

"Mordred," he called softly. The knight looked at Merlin and narrowed his eyes in distaste.

"There is something wrong, though, isn't there? If you look within yourself, Mordred, you'll understand what I mean."

"I don't believe anything you say," Mordred argued. Arthur and Gwaine stood and slowly backed off, knowing that in this moment, Mordred was more likely to listen to Merlin. Their knightly bond with the young man was superseded by the kinship the two warlocks shared through magic. Merlin smiled sadly.

"I understand that you don't care for me and you don't want to believe me. Look for your magic, then. Try and use it," Merlin urged him. Mordred scowled at the warlock, but closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Merlin waited as Mordred searched for his center as his first teachers would have taught him to. A moment later, Mordred's brow furrowed. Confusion flitted across the young man's expression; then finally his face crumpled. Mordred exuded an extreme sense of panic and unease. Then he opened his eyes and looked at Merlin beseechingly.

"Where is it?" he asked anxiously. "It's gone, where has it gone?!"

"It's the Teine Diaga," Merlin began.

"BUT IT'S GONE!" Mordred screamed. "IT'S GONE!"

"I know, Mordred, I know you're frightened, I would be too," Merlin soothed, moving directly in front of Mordred to look into his eyes. "Your magic is a part of you, like mine is a part of me."

"I want it back," Mordred moaned, folding his arms around himself comfortingly.

"That's what we want to do here at the Cauldron," Merlin reasoned.

"How do I know this isn't a trick?" Mordred asked, suddenly suspicious. Merlin looked shrewdly at the younger warlock.

"Morgana put you in a room with mandrakes, didn't she?" Merlin asked, looking at Mordred understandingly.

"Yes," Mordred confirmed, nearly sobbing at the memory. "The screams. They were terrible."

"It was the mandrakes that buried your gift, Mordred. You have to walk into the waters of the Cauldron; then I can help you find your magic again," Merlin said softly. The young knight looked intently at Merlin's honest and open face for a long minute before he finally nodded; Merlin stood and held a hand out to Mordred, who allowed the older warlock to pull him to his feet.

"What do I need to do?" Mordred asked, his eyes locked on the calm water.

"Just go out into the water, I will do the rest," Merlin instructed. Mordred nodded once again and looked towards Arthur almost guiltily.

"I know about your magic, Mordred. It is my desire to help you and your kin to live in Camelot freely."

Mordred let out a great breath of relief and smiled tremulously at the King he had sworn to serve and protect.

"Thank you, Arthur," he whispered, then looked back at Merlin before he walked slowly into the water. Great ripples traveled across the surface of the water as Mordred ventured deeper into the pool. Once he was chest deep, Mordred turned and looked towards the shore expectantly. Merlin nodded once, then closed his eyes and raised a hand towards Mordred.

"Yfel gæst ga þu fram þisse lichaman. Biþ hine mod eft mann. Ar ond heofontungol sceal þurhswiþan!" Merlin said, his voice growing louder and more powerful with each word. Arthur, Gwaine and Mithian each took an instinctual step back as power seemed to radiate off of Merlin. Suddenly, a white light rose up from out of the waters, bathing Mordred in a glowing energy that undulated as it grew until it surrounded him completely.

Finally, the light fell back into the pool and Merlin dropped his hand tiredly. Mordred seemed to sag momentarily before taking a deep breath and closing his eyes. A soft, grateful smile grew across his face before the former druid opened his eyes and looked at Merlin.

"Thank you, Merlin," he said, his voice strained as he began to move out of the water.

"MERLIN!" Mithian's sudden scream had everyone instantly alert, Merlin especially. The warlock turned and immediately threw a hand in front of him, blindly blocking anything that might be headed towards them. Three arrows turned to ash as they hit Merlin's shield.

"Saxons!" Gwaine exclaimed, drawing his sword as he watched a line of men appear on the ridge around the Cauldron.

"And Morgana," Arthur added as he, too, drew his weapon, recognising his sister's black-clad form among the Saxons.

"I told you that you needed me to watch your back," Gwaine quipped. Arthur chuckled humorlessly as both King and knight took up a ready stance.

"I'm glad you're here, Gwaine," the king allowed.

"You're completely surrounded, dear brother," Morgana drawled, her voice echoing around the basin as she smirked at Arthur's small group of five. Her forces outnumbered them four-to-one.

"Why are you doing this?!" Mordred shouted as he emerged from the waters, surprising everyone there.

"You should know why, Mordred, we are of a kind, after all. Yet you willingly don the uniform of a Knight of Camelot. You deny your true nature and serve a King who would have you dead! You are no better than Merlin, the so-called Emrys."

"Would I have made this journey to heal him from your dark enchantment if I only meant to kill him?" Arthur asked. "You may tell yourself that you are fighting for your kin, to free others like you, but you have stopped seeing the truth, Morgana. I know now about Merlin and Mordred's magic. Yet you see them still standing by my side. I intend to repeal the ban on magic. What you are doing now, Morgana, is not for your kin, it is for yourself."

"I am your elder sister," Morgana argued. "I should be Queen, not some serving girl! Our father claimed to love me, but he hated me and favored you! I will have what is rightfully mine! NOW!"

At Morgana's words, the Saxons let out a cry and charged recklessly down the embankment. Mithian let loose an arrow, felling one man before he made it down the hill. The princess was reloading when Arthur and Gwaine charged forward to meet the first attackers. Mordred ran to the packs, grabbing a spare sword and joining the fray with a fierce battle cry. Merlin stepped forward, holding out his hand to blast an advancing group when a shrill cry rent the air.

Everyone ducked as the pure white dragon swooped overhead, clearly headed for Merlin. Mithian took a shot with her crossbow, but it bounced off ineffectually.

"Save your bolts! They won't harm a dragon!" Merlin screamed, looking towards Mithian and blasting a Saxon back before the man could attack the princess while she was resetting her bow.

Arthur and Gwaine were fighting back to back, holding their own against the attacking men. Mordred was making his way in their direction, making use of the skills Arthur had taught him to best his opponents. All of them were being swarmed by Saxons as Morgana stood at the top of the ridge, observing.

"MERLIN!" Mithian shouted again, causing Merlin to look up even as Aithusa dove towards him, a fiery torrent spouting from her maw. As he shielded himself from the flames, Merlin recognised Morgana's strategy; Aithusa was here as a diversion to keep the warlock from protecting Arthur. Merlin had to struggle to keep from smiling at the massive flaw in Morgana's plan.

"AITHUSA!" the dragonlord called, his voice strong and powerful as it took on the timbre of the dragonlord gift. "Nun de ge dei s'eikein kai emois epe'essin hepesthai! You will not follow Morgana any longer, Aithusa!" Merlin yelled. "Go! Find the Great One and learn from him!"

The dragon cringed back at the command, cowed by the dragonlord. Aithusa chirruped mournfully, looking at the High Priestess one last time before flapping her wings harder and gaining more height to leave the Cauldron entirely. Morgana's face crumpled as she watched her one faithful ally fail in her given task and leave her forever.

Merlin took advantage of Morgana's distraction and looked to where Arthur, Gwaine and Mordred were shoulder-to-shoulder in a triangle, fighting off the remaining men. Mordred ducked low, avoiding a wide swing of his opponent's sword just as Arthur whirled around and clashed his blade against the Saxon's, giving Mordred the time he needed to thrust upwards and dispatch the attacker. Gwaine used his signature move, disarming the man engaging him before smashing his pommel into the Saxon's face.

The last of their attackers backed off momentarily, trying to regroup and devise a new attack strategy against this unexpectedly effective trio of men. Merlin took advantage of the distance the regrouping created around his friends and thrust a hand forward, disarming the Saxons even as Mithian's deadly aim took down one of them.

Morgana ripped her eyes away from Aithusa's now distant form and growled in fury when it became clear that Merlin was yet again more than he seemed. Entering the battle for the first time, Morgana stalked towards the dragonlord with a palpable fury radiating off of her. Merlin watched her coming towards him solemnly, his instincts telling him that this would be their final meeting.

"You are such a disgrace to magic," Morgana seethed, her eyes flashing as she pushed at Merlin with her power. The warlock threw his hands forward, blocking the magical energy that Morgana had thrown with a wall of his own. When the two forces collided, a terrible crash thundered through the shallow basin of the Cauldron, stopping everyone in their places. All eyes lit upon Merlin and Morgana as they eyed one another; one in fury, the other in regret.

"You can stop this now, Morgana," Merlin tried, though he knew it was in vain. The High Priestess was too far gone down the path of darkness. Morgana began to enchant a spell, pulling hundreds of small, loose rocks from the ground and sending them swirling towards Merlin in a great cloud. Three of the remaining Saxons ran as Merlin held up a hand.

"Smyltnes," he said calmly, powerfully. The rocks fell from the air, obeying Merlin's will above Morgana's. The witch screamed in frustration, calling up a pillar of fire as Morgause had done many times. Merlin threw both hands up, his eyes flashing as the pillar shrank into the sand at his command.

"I've been controlling fire since I was a small boy, Morgana, you will not win that way," Merlin warned. Morgana screamed again, her fury unleashing a torrent of magic that knocked all but Merlin off their feet. Arthur, Gwaine and Mordred scrambled to their feet and backed up in an effort to avoid what was sure to come.

Then a furious battle erupted between witch and warlock; Merlin buffeting Morgana with fierce winds as she began to magically throw rocks and discarded weapons at Merlin in an attempt to catch him off guard. Several fireballs were thrown from both Merlin and Morgana; the witch dodging them while Merlin absorbed them and sent them back.

Arthur and Gwaine were awed at the show of power. The king understood in that moment that Merlin was truly the most powerful man he would ever meet. Mordred, who had known Merlin for who and what he was, watched with solemn respect for the power displayed. Mithian watched anxiously; she was separated from the king and knights by the magical duel, and she stayed down, trying to stay out of Morgana's sight. Having escaped the witch's clutches recently, the princess knew that the witch wouldn't hesitate to use her against Merlin.

Morgana stumbled, her energy waning when Merlin pushed her back with a wall of magic and a gust of wind. Looking around her desperately, the last High Priestess tried her final ploy. With a flare of her eyes, Morgana picked up a discarded sword and flung it in Arthur's direction, counting on Merlin's devotion to protecting the King to distract him. Pulling another sword from a dead Saxon's hand, Morgana hurled it in Merlin's direction before the warlock could turn from his defense of his King.

Morgana hadn't counted on Mithian though, and the selflessness that love begets.

At Mithian's pained gasp, Merlin wrenched his eyes away from Arthur, only to find his wife standing between him and Morgana, a Saxon's sword straight through her middle.

"NO!" Merlin shouted, then screamed angrily as his fury reached levels that he had never realized were possible. The water surged and the ground trembled; the wind roared and lightning streaked across the sky in a jagged bolt as the elements responded to Emrys' anguish. Arthur, Gwaine and Mordred struggled to stay on their feet, even as Mithian fell to her knees.

Merlin looked away from his wounded wife, his face a cold mask as he reached out a hand in Morgana's direction. She had only a second in her sudden terror to realize that Merlin was far more powerful than she had imagined. Then the warlock jerked his arm back while fisting his hand, grabbing the stunned witch with his magic and flinging her forcefully into the Cauldron of Arianrhod.

Instantly the water rose up as though to swallow the High Priestess. The surface of the pool began to bubble like it was boiling, though there was no heat emanating from the water. White foam began swirling across the surface and a fog formed, obscuring everything in its haze. Then a brilliant light burst from the water, burning it off.

Morgana screamed, utterly frightened as the glowing light surrounded her, encapsulating her in its pure energy. The witch was powerless against it, as it bound her magic more surely than Mordred's had been. With one final scream, Morgana was pulled under the surface, the light growing almost unbearably bright until it was suddenly gone in a rushing torrent of wind and sound.

Merlin gasped at the sudden rebounding of power that hit him, knocking him off balance momentarily. Then he turned and rushed towards Mithian as soon as he was stable. She was laying on her side, pale and weak, the sword lying next to her where she had tossed it.

"Noooo," Merlin groaned, feeling an uncomfortable familiarity as he grabbed a hold of her at the waterside, sobbing as he cradled her to his chest. "Not again, please not again," he whispered urgently. "Noooooo," he moaned in a strangled whisper.

"Merlin!" Arthur exclaimed as he, Mordred and Gwaine skid to a stop beside them.

Merlin was blind and deaf to their presence, trying as he was to press a hand to Mithian's wound. His mind was chaotic as he pressed tender kisses to her face while murmuring healing spells through the tears that streamed down his face.

"Merlin..." Mithian whispered, and Merlin pulled back to meet her eyes.

"What is it?" he asked her, unable to tear his gaze away as he watched her grimace in pain, agonizing over the overwhelming feeling of loss that was threatening to take him over.

"The Cauldron," she whispered, looking towards the again-calm waters. "Healing waters... take me... into the water."

Merlin's face instantly cleared, hope dawning rapidly as he hurriedly gathered Mithian into his arms and stood up. Arthur, Gwaine and Mordred stood solemnly on the shore as they watched the warlock gently cradle his wife as they moved deeper and deeper into the pool.

Once they were in to Merlin's chest, the warlock closed his eyes and let his head fall back before opening his eyes and looking into the heavens as he called out to the White Goddess once more.

This time, the light grew around them, illuminating them both in a blaze of burnished gold. Mithian gasped at the sensations coursing through her. Partly at that of her body healing as the wound knitted closed, but most of all, at the sensation of connection that she felt to Merlin. It had nothing to do with the way his arms enfolded her securely, but it was as though her very soul was touching Merlin's. The tiny kernel of magic he had gifted to her burned within her as the light swirled around them.

Merlin gasped in amazement at all the things he saw in the brightness; before his mind's eye, he saw Camelot grow into the great kingdom it was destined to be as he and Arthur worked side by side. He saw Gwen, great with child as Arthur proudly looked on. Then, he saw Mithian and himself, standing together as time moved around them, ever changing even as they stayed the same.

"Emrys," a voice whispered. Merlin looked around the light enveloping them, finally making out the form of a maiden, made entirely of light.

"Who are you?" he asked breathlessly.

"I am the White Goddess, the power that heals those who come to be cleansed in my waters."

"Did you show me those things?" he asked.

"What one sees while in the Cauldron is unique to them. I have no bearing on it."

"Is it the future?" Merlin asked.

"For some, it is a facsimile of what will come to pass."

"Then it's not a true vision?"

"Only you can know that."

"What happened to Morgana?" Merlin asked warily.

"Those who step into the Cauldron who are not worthy are sent to their due reward. In Morgana's case, she has been sent to Avalon to pay penance for her evils. There she will wait until it comes time for her to fulfill her duties to The Once and Future King."

"Then she's gone?"

"From this life as you know it, yes. Your friends are waiting for you, Emrys."

At her final words, the light gradually faded until Merlin could see the Cauldron around them. Looking down, Merlin could not contain the grateful sob that tore from him when he saw Mithian, whole and healthy, smiling at him.

Merlin nearly sank in exhaustion then, his knees buckling. Suddenly, Arthur, Gwaine and Mordred were there, supporting the warlock as they moved towards the shore. Merlin refused to let anyone take Mithian from his arms, cradling her to him until they sank, soaking wet and crying joyous tears, onto the ground beside the pool.

Pressing his forehead to Mithian's, Merlin tried unsuccessfully to stifle the tears of joy that streamed unhindered down his face. Mithian was crying as well, the both of them intermittently laughing and crying in utter relief and gratitude.

"Never, ever do that again," Merlin murmured.

"Only if you promise not to get killed if I don't," Mithian replied. Merlin laughed, then claimed her lips in a passionate kiss.

"What exactly happened to Morgana?" Arthur asked, pulling Merlin's attention away from Mithian.

"She's gone," the warlock replied hoarsely. "Sent to Avalon to pay penance for her crimes."

"She's not coming back?" Arthur asked, his tone both cautiously hopeful, yet steeped in disbelief.

"No," Merlin laughed in relief. "Though she's done so often enough that I understand your hesitance to believe that it's true."

"She's really gone?" Arthur asked again, this time, his voice tinged with grief. Merlin nodded solemnly, cradling Mithian closer to his chest as he thought regretfully of his memories of who Morgana had been before she had fallen under Morgause's influence.

"I know, Arthur," Merlin said softly. "She was your sister; she was once our friend. But that person died a long time ago. Morgana is in a better place now. A place where she can let go of her anger."

"Thank you, Merlin," Arthur murmured, closing his eyes at the thought.

"That's twice you've thanked me in as many days," Merlin said, grinning smugly at his king.

"Don't let it go to your head, you're still an idiot most of the time, magic or not," Arthur scoffed.

"But you'd be lost without me," Merlin said pointedly, trying but failing to suppress his smirk. "Admit it, you need me."

"Merlin, you may be my advisor now, and even though you are far more powerful than I could have possibly imagined, there is something I will never hesitate to tell you."

"What's that?" Merlin asked knowingly, his smile widening at Arthur's struggle to keep a similar expression off his own face.

"Shut up, Merlin."


A/N: I love Gwaine in this chapter. So much fun to write! I really wished that he had a larger role in the last series, since he and Arthur and Merlin were Courage, Strength and Magic. I guess I can't complain too much, though, as it gives me a lovely excuse to write fan fic!