Another's Favor by ebhg

Disclaimer: Merlin belongs to BBC.

A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing! I'm so very pleased to read them all. :)


Checkmate

It had taken Merlin some time that morning to settle himself enough to attend the peace talks with Arthur and Guinevere. Mithian had a unique view into how close to the edge Merlin was. On the outside, her husband had seemed calm and collected; the very picture of a First Advisor and Court Warlock. On the inside, however, the warlock was seething. Mithian could feel an echo of how his magic surged and roiled within him, leaving him hard-pressed to contain any outward sign. It had made the princess reluctant to leave his side, but she knew that Merlin would not rest easy until his mother was safe. So it was that Mithian found herself riding towards the most dreaded area within Camelot with only three knights to accompany her.

The guards at the western gate did have information for them, as Merlin had suggested. Just before dusk the previous evening, three men had left with a small cart that they had declared to be grain for their village. The wheel tracks from their cart went a full mile outside the city; it was there though, that the cart was found abandoned in the hedges on the side of the road.

"Look for horse prints," Gwaine instructed, and the four of them fanned out, looking for the trail.

"Over here," Mordred called a few moments later. The others rushed to his side, eager for any clue.

"What do you think, three, four horses?" Gwaine asked pacing around the area as he studied the prints.

"Three," Mithian mused, kneeling down and brushing her fingers over a deeper print. "This one is deeper than the others. I'd bet that it was carrying two riders."

"One of the abductors and an unconscious Hunith?" Mordred asked.

"Exactly," Mithian confirmed.

"They must have been in a hurry," Percival offered.

"Of course they were," Gwaine chuckled. "With Merlin possibly right behind them? I'd hurry too."

"Where do they lead, though?" Percival asked, eying the grouping of horse prints.

"Right where Merlin said they would," Mordred answered, his eyes tracing westward.

"The Valley of the Fallen Kings," Mithian said grimly.

"We'd best get moving, then. We've got a lovely woman to rescue," Gwaine said, grinning in satisfaction. The four of them rushed back to their own horses, eager to find Hunith.

"I've lost the trail," Mordred called out nearly thirty minutes later, pulling his horse to a stop to allow the others to catch up. Gwaine jumped down off of his horse and swiftly began scanning the area. Percival, Mithian and Mordred soon followed.

"They must be using magic to clear their prints," Mithian said in frustration, just as the sound of brush being crushed under foot caused them all to scan the forest for signs of danger.

"What was that?" Gwaine asked, and the four of them froze again as more leaves and twigs crunched loudly.

"Not an animal," Percival murmured. Then Mithian gasped at the figure stumbling out of the trees in front of them. The petite woman froze in place, her eyes rapidly moving over each of them. Her posture tensed, preparing for an attack; standing tall and eying them warily was a bedraggled Hunith. In her hands was a sizable stick that she brandished like a club at the sight of them.

"Hunith!" Mithian called, slowly stepping forward and holding up her hands to show her lack of aggression.

"Who are you?!" Hunith demanded, tightening her grip on her makeshift club and looking hurriedly at each of them in turn. Mithian lifted her eyebrows in surprise and traded a concerned look with the knights.

"Hunith," the princess began soothingly, smiling disarmingly at the anxious woman. "I'm Mithian. I am Merlin's wife, remember? This is Sir Gwaine, Sir Percival and Sir Mordred, all of them knights of Camelot."

"That is who you all look like, but how do I know for sure?" Hunith asked, still holding her club at the ready.

"What do you mean?" Gwaine asked, his eyebrows narrowing in confusion.

"I mean you may not be who you say you are."

"I assure you, we are telling the truth," Percival said softly, raising his huge hands placatingly. Hunith just shook her head, her brows crinkling.

"I was taken last night by three men who looked exactly like Sir Elyan, Sir Leon and Sir Gwaine. They had their faces and their voices, yet they spoke of their magic and their plans to kill the king. I know those men haven't any magic and they would never willingly or knowingly plot to kill their king. So I ask you again, how do I know for sure that you are who you claim to be?" Hunith asked, her eyes shining with fiery determination and defiance.

"How about we tell you something about Merlin that only his friends would know?" Gwaine suggested, smiling at Hunith's agreeing nod. "Alright, I can tell you that Merlin is my first and best friend. We once had to polish the whole army's boots as a punishment for sticking Arthur with my tavern bill."

"That's not specific enough," Hunith replied. "Anyone could have told you that- Sir Gwaine told that story rather proudly at my son's wedding feast."

Gwaine nodded his head in sheepish agreement, then his eyes lit up. "Oh! He has a certain red neckerchief that he wears more than the others. He once told me that it was because you stitched his name on the edge using your own hair."

Hunith gave a small grin of acceptance and turned to the others with suspicion still creasing her brow, unwilling to accept the three of them with just Gwaine's story.

"Merlin told me that when he was very young, you used to sing a special song about the stars and the moon to him to make him go to sleep, and he wouldn't settle without it," Percival answered, though Gwaine looked at the large knight curiously.

"Why would he tell you that?"

"I was on watch during a quest a while back. Merlin couldn't sleep, so he joined me and told me about how his mother sang to him on nights like that one," Percival defended himself.

"Well my mother was a horrible woman. Second only to my terrible sister," Gwaine complained. "Never heard a lullaby pass her cold, dry lips."

Percival raised an eyebrow in his direction.

"I am your son's apprentice," Mordred began, rolling his eyes as his fellow knights chuckled. Then Mordred grew sober, his expression almost sad. "He told me that his father died in his arms, and that one of his most cherished possessions is a wooden dragon carved by his father."

Hunith smiled sadly, tears welling in her eyes. She knew that Merlin rarely ever spoke of Balinor, and only then to his closest friends. Finally, she turned to Mithian, who bit her lip in concentration, then brightened as she thought of something no one else would possibly know.

"Merlin has a strangely shaped scar on his left hip; he's very ticklish there and he jumps quite spectacularly when you touch it. The story behind it is rather funny itself, especially as it makes Merlin blush," the princess said, smiling mischievously even as Gwaine, Percival and Mordred's eyebrows rose in shock. Hunith, however, laughed and then sighed in grateful relief as she finally allowed her club to drop.

The peasant woman sagged in exhaustion, her legs nearly giving out after her prolonged ordeal. Mithian stepped forward, hugging Merlin's mother before hastily offering her own water skin. As Hunith drank deeply from it, Gwaine and Mordred scanned the surrounding woods.

"You said three men took you? Should we be on the lookout for them?" Mordred asked. Hunith's face paled.

"Two of them left some hours ago, I believe they were headed back to Camelot."

"Just two of them? What of the third?" Gwaine asked, still eying the surrounding trees cautiously.

"He won't be a problem," Hunith answered emotionlessly.

"How can you be so sure?" Mordred asked doubtfully, scanning the surrounding trees himself. Hunith shook her head, her eyes darkening.

"He's dead."

"Dead?!" Percival exclaimed in surprise.

"What happened?" Mithian asked gently. Hunith shuddered and clutched her arms around her middle, but began to explain.

"After the others left, the one who stayed behind to guard me began to taunt me. He said he would enjoy killing me and that it would surely upset Merlin."

"It would upset more than Merlin," Gwaine growled, and Hunith smiled gratefully at the knight.

"How did you get away?" Mordred asked, and the peasant woman's brow creased with remembered indignation.

"He made the mistake of assuming I was defenseless. He left me alone for a few minutes while he went searching for firewood. My hands were bound in front of me so I used my teeth to loosen the bonds. The man came back then, and began to set up the fire. He turned his back to me as he tried to light the kindling, so I moved as quietly as I could and picked up the biggest of the branches that he had brought back and hit him over the head with it."

"You're sure he was actually dead? Not just unconscious?" Mordred asked in concern, eyeing their surroundings once more.

"He's dead," Hunith said firmly, but did not elaborate. "I don't think they believed I would be any trouble. None of them thought twice about leaving only one man behind. But he soon learned that I was not incapable of defending myself, given the right opportunity," Hunith explained, her eyes glinting fiercely as she wiped away the tears before they could fall.

Gwaine smiled, shaking his head in wonderment. "It's really no surprise that Merlin is the way he is, now is it?"

Hunith chuckled in weary relief.

"I'm so glad you're safe," Mithian said, pulling Hunith into another hug.

"As am I, but my son and Arthur and Gwen are in danger. Surely those men have returned to Camelot by now, and they must have some plan."

"If we hurry, we can make it in time for the midday break," Percival offered.

"What are the chances that the two men headed for Camelot are working alone?" Mithian asked ruefully.

"I'd say there's little chance it's just the two of them," Mordred answered.

"Sounds like there could be some terrible odds in this endeavor. My favorite. We'd best get back to Camelot then, before we miss all the fun," Gwaine said with a roguish grin.

"Speak for yourself," Mordred grumbled. "With everything that's happened in the last few days, I think I'd be glad to translate goblin texts for a week if it meant some peace and quiet."

"Be careful what you wish for," Percival chuckled, offering a hand to help Hunith and Mithian onto the princess' horse before climbing into his own saddle and looking at Mordred mirthfully. "You might just get it."

Mordred rolled his eyes, but said nothing further as the rest of them mounted their horses and kicked the beasts into motion, making for Camelot as fast as they could.


There was very little worse, Merlin decided, than being forced to sit through a diplomatic discussion when his mother was in danger. The warlock thought ruefully that the freedom that came with being Camelot's secret protector had certainly had its advantages over the diplomacy that went with official recognition.

The morning had passed inexorably slowly as the committee of rulers argued over the same points again and again. The warlock had never felt the desire to freeze time and simply disappear as strongly as he did when Alined revisited the trade routes that connected his kingdom to both Camelot and Olaf's lands for the fifth time that morning. Arthur occasionally gave Merlin a subtle kick beneath the table; a clear warning that he needed to stop fidgeting or tracking the sun's progress across the windows.

Mithian's absence had not gone unnoticed either. Rodor had looked at Merlin in askance when Mithian hadn't come along to the meeting. Merlin cursed inwardly at his lack of preparation for such a situation and then stumbled awkwardly over the excuse that Mithian had felt unwell that morning. Much to Merlin's mortification, however, his impromptu excuse for his wife's absence had prompted more than one face-reddening comment about babes in the couple's future.

Unfortunately, the well-meant teasing had only added to Merlin's worry. Yet again, his stomach lurched with nerves and he inwardly winced for not doing more to protect Mithian while she was traveling into such dangerous territory without him. Just as he was cursing himself for the third time, he was abruptly reminded of what he was supposed to be doing by a sudden outburst from the debating monarchs.

"But that route is always impassible during the winter!" King Olaf protested, when Alined proposed moving the route over a mountain pass.

"Only for a few weeks. A month and a half at most," Alined argued dryly, as though he really couldn't be bothered with the proceedings that he himself kept prolonging.

"When material products are being transported, that's all well and good. But my people depend upon the grains we receive in trade for our sea-caught fish!"

Alined merely shrugged and studied his fingernails as though they had just been discussing the last year's tourney's winners.

"We cannot do anything that will risk the food supply to an entire kingdom," Rodor chimed in.

"Exactly," Queen Annis agreed, giving Alined a stern look, though it went unnoticed. "We cannot willfully and knowingly cause a kingdom and its people to suffer in order to indulge our own pride and vanity."

"You would know about pride and vanity, now, wouldn't you?" Alined drawled.

"What are you saying?" Annis asked curtly, her expression belying her frustration and irritation.

"Well..." Alined began, but Merlin cut him off, the warlock's already tested patience wearing ever thinner.

"This is exactly the sort of antagonism that we need to avoid. This council has a duty and a responsibility to those who are depending on us to keep them provided for and safe! We are supposed to be working together, strengthening our ties and helping one another, not instigating new and petty quarrels!"

"Here, here!" Prince Gavin called out. Princess Elena smiled and nodded her approval. Merlin could feel his face and neck warming at so thoroughly scolding a room full of monarchs. He could not deny though, that after years of standing against the wall and biting his tongue, speaking his mind in such a manner was incredibly satisfying. The warlock took a deep breath through his nose in an attempt to calm himself, willing the redness from his face.

"You are right, of course," Alined said, nodding to Merlin with a simpering smile. "I wouldn't dream of preventing this council from reaching its noble goals."

Arthur watched the exchange in silence, hoping to gain some insight into what could be prompting Alined's frequent and trivial delays. But the other monarch smiled blandly, giving nothing away.

"Let us take a short break," Arthur offered, his eyes scanning the room for any disagreement.

"Some refreshment would be lovely," Lord Godwyn offered. Guinevere smiled her agreement, nodding to her handmaiden, who then hurried to inform the kitchen. Once seated in the dining hall, Merlin gripped the arms of his chair in order to keep himself from bounding out of the room, leaving the dreadfully repetitive meeting behind to seek out his mother.

"Easy, Merlin," Arthur murmured, watching the unlit candles begin to smolder spontaneously. The warlock took another few deep breaths and closed his eyes to gather himself. He focused on the mundane sounds around him; the servants' footsteps, Queen Annis' murmured conversation with Lord Godwyn; Princess Elena's delicate laughter at something Prince Gavin had said.

"My Lord," a voice to Merlin's right pulled him out of his reverie. He sat back hurriedly and looked to see Beth with a plate of food and a friendly smile.

"Thank you," the warlock murmured, allowing the serving girl to place the plate of food in front of him. Elfa came right behind her, filling his and Arthur's goblets with wine from her pitcher.

Merlin stared down at the food for a moment, his stomach suddenly turning at the sight of it. Instead, he reached for his glass to take a drink, stopping himself at the last moment to smell the contents before drinking it.

"Something the matter?" Arthur murmured, noting Merlin's uncharacteristic reluctance to eat.

"I don't know," Merlin replied, glancing around the room once more at the unconcerned monarchs.

"You need to relax," Arthur offered, his voice hardly louder than a whisper.

"Easy for you to say," Merlin muttered.

"No, actually, it isn't. I just have more experience putting on a steady front."

"I doubt that. My very existence used to hinge on my ability to put on a steady front, Arthur," Merlin protested, raising his eyebrow at the king.

"You're right," Arthur allowed.

"What was that?" Merlin asked in surprise.

"Don't push it, Merlin. And stop worrying so much, we will find her."

"I'm trying. Something just seems... Off, somehow," Merlin muttered agitatedly, consciously making an effort to stop bouncing his knee.

"You're just worried about your mother, it's only natural. Try and keep from lighting anything on fire, hmm?" Arthur teased, trying to ease the tension that was becoming more evident the longer Merlin sat still.

"Everything will be fine," Gwen assured softly, smiling. Merlin nodded wordlessly, and allowed the subject to drop for the time being.

The meal passed quietly, the tension of the morning keeping conversation at a minimum. Merlin wasn't able to eat more than a few bites, and only then just to keep up appearances. For the most part, he pushed things around on his plate, smiling sadly as he thought of how his mother would scold him for doing such a thing.

"Shall we adjourn to the great hall?" Arthur suggested as plates were emptied and tables were cleared. The king led the procession with Gwen on his arm, and Merlin and the other monarchs following behind. Merlin couldn't help but let his mind wander as they moved through the corridors.

"Merlin, have you considered juggling for us?" Annis called out as they took their seats at the Round Table, pulling Merlin from his thoughts.

"I hadn't planned on a display this afternoon," Merlin offered apologetically with a nervous chuckle.

"You're keeping us in suspense," Annis teased, her eyes glinting in amusement as Merlin squirmed nervously.

"Perhaps-"

Merlin's reply was cut off when the warning bells began to clamor. Instantly, Arthur, Gwen and Merlin were on their feet.

"Guards! Secure the hall," Arthur commanded, moving to the windows to observe the city. "George, go find Sir Leon, find out why the bells have been rung."

As the servant scurried out, Merlin and Gwen stepped up beside Arthur. There was no obvious threat; the city was calm, except for the various servants scuttling across the courtyard to take shelter amidst the clanging sound of the warning bells.

"What is going on, Arthur?" Lot growled, eyeing each of the others with distrust.

"I am not sure," Arthur said, leading Merlin and Gwen back to their places at the table. "But I believe that we will be safe if we just remain calm."

A moment later, a pounding on the bolted doors echoed through the hall, and a guard called out, "It's Sir Leon, Sire!"

"Allow him in," Arthur answered as he helped Guinevere into her seat.

"Sire," Leon said, giving a bow to Arthur as he and Elyan came to a stop in front of the king.

"What is going on, Sir Leon?" Arthur asked.

"Sarrum has escaped, the guards at his door have been killed. We believe he may be headed this way."

As soon as Leon had said the words, an arrow whistled down and embedded itself into the heart of the dragon emblazoned on the center of the table's surface.

"MERLIN!" Arthur yelled, pulling Guinevere with him as he dove under the table as even more arrows rained down upon them. Odin cried out when an arrow grazed his cheek, prompting the other monarchs to take cover under the table as well.

"Gescildan!" Merlin shouted, holding his hands up over his head as he scanned the upper balconies.

"Leon! Elyan! Take Guinevere and get her to safety!" Arthur commanded.

"Arthur, no!"

"You must, Guinevere," Arthur said, his earnest tone cutting off any further protest. With a nod and a worried look, the queen crawled to the other side of the table to Leon and Elyan. The three of them scrambled for a side door under the cover of Merlin's shield.

"Clear the room!" Merlin said as arrows continued to disintegrate against his shield. The other monarchs wasted no time crawling out from under under the massive oak table though they turned back as soon as they tried the doors.

"There's Amatan soldiers waiting in the corridor!" King Rodor exclaimed as he and King Olaf replaced the bar across the door.

"Back under the table, then!" Merlin called. Queen Annis and Princess Elena led the way, with Lot and Alined muttering the indignities of being forced under the furniture. Arthur and Prince Gavin joined Merlin in scanning the balconies.

"How can we help?" The prince asked.

"I'll drop the shield; you try and find out where they are firing from," Merlin suggested, allowing his arms and the shield to drop, still scanning the shadows above them. Without delay, three more arrows came from the balcony, and a shadow flitted through the darkness.

"There!" Gavin cried, running towards the stairway that led to the balcony.

"Merlin!" Arthur called out, pointing to another observation balcony on the opposite side of the room. The warlock reached a hand out, catching the arrow this time, rather than shielding against it, and sent it towards a glimmer of movement in the shadows. They were rewarded with a grunt and a heavy thud as the attacker was taken down.

Another grunt and a startled cry echoed as a second bowman fell from the balcony above. Gavin's form appeared, looking down towards the man he had just defeated.

"That's two!" The prince called.

"Merlin! To your right!" King Rodor called from beneath the table, and Merlin whirled around, catching sight of Sarrum on the upper balcony.

"Gescildan!" Merlin shouted, catching the small throwing knife and sending it back to the balcony. Sarrum had already moved, however, headed towards Prince Gavin.

"Gavin!" Merlin called, warning the high priest. The prince of Nemeth disappeared into the shadows, and the sounds of a struggle were heard. Arthur and Merlin both raced towards the stairwell, headed up to the balcony. They were both taken by surprise though, when a large spear burrowed into the door just as they reached out to open it.

Arthur wasted no further time, nearly yanking the door off its hinges in his haste to enter. Sarrum had the prince pinned on the ground, a gash bleeding at Gavin's brow.

"No!" Arthur yelled, just as Sarrum was preparing to plunge a long knife through Gavin's heart. Arthur grabbed the spear from the door and threw it as Merlin pushed the Amatan ruler off of the prince with magic. Sarrum hit the door on the other end of the balcony, the spear pinning him to it.

"Guinevere," Arthur murmured. Without another word, he stood and bolted down the stairs, drawing his sword as he went.

"Gavin! Stay here, and protect the others!" Merlin shouted, then without waiting for a response, he was on Arthur's heels. Merlin's boots slid as they came to the bolted main entrance where Arthur was struggling with the massive locking bar.

"Arthur!" he warned, then as the king moved out of the way, Merlin grabbed the heavy bar with magic, flinging it to the side and pushing the doors open.

There in the hall, a half-dozen men in Amatan garb were being engaged by three knights of Camelot, including Leon and Elyan, and two knights of Nemeth. Knights from Caerleon, Gawant, and Essetir were just arriving. Arthur and Merlin pushed their way through the fray towards the knights that were supposed to be protecting the queen.

"Leon! Elyan! Where is Guinevere?!" Arthur asked as soon as the last Amatan was subdued.

"The queen, Sire?" Leon asked in confused alarm.

"What about Gwen?" Elyan asked, his voice tinged with panic.

"I sent her with you two to get her out of danger!"

"Sire, we've just come out of the catacombs when the warning bells rang," Leon said, his eyes widening in fear.

"ARTHUR!"

King and warlock froze as Guinevere's voice echoed, not from within the castle, but from outside. The two of them ran to the end of the corridor and looked out the windows onto the private gardens. Leon and Elyan each had the queen by an arm and were leading her towards the stables.

"GUINEVERE!" Arthur shouted, causing her to look fearfully over her shoulder for just a moment before the three of them disappeared around a hedge. "What is going on?!" the king growled, pushing off the window sill and rushing towards the gardens, his warlock-advisor and knights at his heels.

"Arthur, what are you planning?" Merlin panted as they reached the final staircase leading to the royal gardens.

"I haven't decided yet," Arthur gritted out, his temper simmering below the surface.

"You should let me handle things," Merlin said, and nearly ran right into Arthur when the king stopped abruptly and turned furious eyes on his Court Warlock.

"Guinevere is my wife," Arthur bit out. Merlin, however, was unfazed.

"And Hunith is my mother," Merlin said softly. "Besides, there is magic at work here; how else would those two look just like Leon and Elyan?!"

"Perhaps Merlin is right, Arthur," Leon offered.

"Fine, but we're wasting time," Arthur said, grabbing Merlin's shoulder and shoving him to the front, nodding in satisfaction when the warlock took off running.

The gardens were nearly deserted, save for a few gossiping ladies of the court who were clustered in a knot at the gate leading to the stables.

"Out of the way!" Merlin said, shouldering his way through them with little apology, Arthur, Leon and Elyan following closely behind as they left the scandalized ladies in their wake.

Emerging from the gardens, the four of them looked around wildly, seeing nothing amiss. No one was in sight except for Arthur's stable boy.

"Tyr!" Merlin called breathlessly, causing the portly young man to turn away from the horse he was grooming with surprise.

"Yes, My Lords?" Tyr asked humbly, bowing his head in respect. Merlin rolled his eyes and swallowed his protest at the formal title Tyr had used.

"Have you seen the queen?" Arthur interjected before Merlin could say anything further.

"Yes," Tyr said, frowning in confusion.

"Where did she go?" Merlin demanded urgently, startling Tyr with his abrupt manner.

"It's strange, Sire, but the queen was with Sirs Leon and Elyan," Tyr trailed off, pointing confusedly at the two knights in question. "They just left, said they were going to go for a ride but the queen didn't look pleased to be riding. I almost said as much, but I am naught but a humble servant, and it is not in my duties to question-"

"WHERE DID THEY GO?!" Arthur thundered, causing Tyr's face to go pale as he stammered and stumbled over his words.

"I- I don't know! They said that they were touring the countryside! All I know is they rode that way!" Tyr pointed in the direction of the western gates.

Merlin and Arthur wasted no further time; Arthur yanked the reigns of the horse from Tyr's hands and leapt onto the horse's back, kicking it into a gallop towards the western gates.

"He's going to get himself killed," Merlin muttered, running to another horse awaiting its turn in the grooming stall and used magic to jump onto the horse's bare back as Leon and Elyan ran into the stable to get mounts of their own. The three of them thundered out of the horse paddock, leaving a terribly confused stable boy behind.


Mithian sighed with relief when the white towers of the citadel came into view; they had ridden hard and their horses would likely not last much longer. Hunith clutched at her cloak behind her in an effort to keep her seat behind the princess.

"We've almost made it!" Mordred called out triumphantly. Percival and Gwaine smiled in reply, though everyone's face fell when they realized that warning bells were suddenly ringing, loud and insistent, followed momentarily by the rattling rumble of the gears straining against the heavy load of the portcullis as it began to descend. They each kicked their horses' flanks, pushing even harder over the the last fifty yards to slip into the city just before the massive gate settled into place.

The five of them slipped off their panting, exhausted horses, allowing the guards at the gate to take them as they started running towards the castle. The warning bells finally fell silent as they made it into the deserted marketplace of the lower town. Gwaine came to a stop, turning to Mordred.

"What's happening?" he asked the warlock-knight, his brow furrowing in anxious anticipation.

"How should I know?" Mordred protested, though Gwaine rolled his eyes.

"Do you have magic or not?! Ask Merlin in your warlocky way!"

"Warlocky way?!" Mordred protested indignantly.

"Just do it!" Mithian interjected, and Mordred huffed and closed his eyes.

"Merlin," he called out mentally, not expecting to get such a quick response.

"Mordred! The queen has been abducted by two men. They have magic and they are headed towards the western gates!"

"We came in the western gate," Mordred replied. "We are in the market of the lower town."

"My mother?" Merlin asked, his mental voice anxious.

"We have her," Mordred confirmed.

"Good," Merlin's relief was palpable, even through the mental connection.

"How can we help?"

"Just stay where you are. We can trap them between us."

"We will be waiting."

Mordred's eyes flew open, searching up the dusty street as the sounds of horses became audible. "Merlin said to stay here; the queen has been abducted and they were heading towards the western gate. We'll help Merlin to trap them."

"Damn useful, this magic business. Don't know why we didn't use it before," Gwaine muttered, then chuckled irreverently as he drew his sword. The other knights followed suit while Mithian readied her bow, placing themselves in a line across the road. Hunith, unarmed as she was, retreated to an empty vegetable stall, urging the woman huddled there to take shelter.

Seconds later, three horses rounded the distant corner and scattered a wandering flock of chickens as the riders tore down the dusty street.

"Perfect," Gwaine muttered as those on horseback pulled in their mounts when they saw the party of knights and the princess standing in the path.

"Leon! Elyan!" Mithian called in surprise. 'Leon' tightened his grip on the queen, who was now unconscious in front of him.

"What's going on?!" Percival growled, unable to comprehend why the queen's brother and the king's most senior knight would be trying to abduct Guinevere. Mordred's mind was whirling, Merlin's warning coming to the front of his mind.

They have magic.

Mordred thought back over his lessons with Merlin, willing something useful to come to mind. He nearly crowed in triumph when a hazy memory of goat ears came to mind. Without hesitation, Mordred raised a hand and spoke the words of restoration that Merlin had taught him.

"Ábareþ þá sóþes ansíene!"

The features of both men began to shift and morph under the influence of Mordred's spell. The man disguised as Leon growled and wheeled his horse around, intent on seeking another exit as their disguises melted completely away. Before they could go any further, however, Arthur and Merlin came around the corner, boxing them in.

"Release her!" Arthur commanded, his voice steely and unyielding.

"Trickler!" Merlin exclaimed, surprised to see the man he had assumed was no longer working for King Alined. Yet there he was, holding Gwen, and looking anxiously around at the nearby alleyways, seeking any possible escape. Much to Trickler's disappointment, though, the real Leon and Elyan emerged from either alley, blocking any escape.

"Trickler?" Arthur asked, his eyes glinting fiercely. "Alined still up to his old ways, then?"

"Careful, Arthur," Merlin said, sliding slowly off his hastily borrowed horse and stepping to the front. "There is nothing to gain in this," he said, raising his voice and addressing the queen's abductors. Merlin tensed as the second sorcerer raised his hands defensively. Everyone froze.

"Just let the queen go," Merlin said more firmly.

"Oh, alright, but only because you asked so nicely," Trickler simpered, shoving Gwen towards the ground.

"Guinevere!" Arthur shouted, leaping from his horse just as Merlin raised his hands and froze time around the queen, preventing her from falling to the hard-packed dirt. Trickler wasted no time leaping from his horse and blowing flames all around them. His accomplice began magically hurling things; tools, rocks, buckets, rotten fruit, anything he could, at the encroaching knights.

Arthur rushed forward to catch Guinevere, but was forced to stop ten feet away from her suspended form as a wall of fire erupted between them.

"Guinevere! Merlin, do something!" the king exclaimed, watching in fearful disbelief as the wooden homes and stalls around them began to ignite.

"I've got her!" Percival yelled, running towards the queen through a gap in the barrier of flames. Arthur circled around the blaze towards Percival's route as Trickler took advantage of Merlin's preoccupation and continued to spout fire around them. Finally, the warlock gratefully released Gwen from his control and into Percival's arms.

Merlin looked hurriedly around him, trying to ascertain the best defence. The wooden structures of the lower town were quickly igniting. Mithian was beating at the flames with her water-soaked cloak, trying to douse what she could. Merlin froze momentarily when he saw the figure fighting the flames beside his wife; his mother was there, alive and relatively unhurt, tossing a bucket of water over the flames. He was pulled from his reverie when a flaming log was hurled towards him. Merlin flung his hand up, halting the log just a foot from his face and allowing it to fly back towards the second sorcerer. Gwaine, Leon and Elyan took advantage of the distraction and ran to help some families escape their engulfed homes.

"Swefnu!" Mordred shouted, dropping the sorcerer to the ground. Merlin nodded to his apprentice and then scanned up and down the market square, planning his next move.

Percival and Arthur were taking care of Gwen, trying to shield her from the flames and extinguish what they could while they looked her over for injuries. Mithian and Hunith were now leading the evacuation of the citizens; the knights were now engaged in subduing a few more knights of Amata that had just joined the fight.

Gritting his teeth in determination, Merlin looked wildly around for Trickler. Alined's troublemaker was nowhere in sight, though Merlin realized it wouldn't be hard to track down a man who seemed mad in his quest to set everything alight.

"Ácwenceþ!" Merlin called out as he ran down the street, dousing flames as he went. As he rounded a corner, he was caught up by a group of townspeople who were fleeing in Trickler's wake. Finally breaking free of the crowd, Merlin put on a burst of speed and tore around the next corner, only to throw himself to the side in order to avoid an engulfed barrel rolling his way at an unnatural speed.

"Trickler!" he growled in frustration, dousing more flames as he stood to his feet.

"Don't you just love my display?" Trickler giggled, holding his arms out and striking a pose as though he were performing at a royal feast.

"Stop this," Merlin commanded, his voice firm as he glared at the mad sorcerer.

"But it's so much fun!"

Trickler held up his finger as though he were shushing a babe; then he blew a torrent of flames towards Merlin.

"Gescildan!"

Trickler cowered down as the flames hit Merlin's shield and intensified before dissipating.

"Why?! Why must you ruin my best plans?" Trickler whined. Merlin half-expected him to stomp his foot and pout as a small child might. "Do you know what he did to me when I failed the last time? Why must you do this to me?"

"Only a fool blames others for their own shortcomings, Trickler. It is my duty to protect Arthur and this kingdom. I do so because I dream of a better world. One of peace and prosperity. This is no way to see that dream realized."

Trickler sneered at Merlin, and in the blink of an eye, blew a another great torrent of flames at the warlock. Merlin immediately raised a shield; Trickler's attack was nothing compared to a dragon's breath. This time, though, Merlin allowed his shield to absorb the flame, gathering it in a ball in his hand.

"As I told Morgana recently, Trickler. I've been controlling fire since I was a small boy. You will not win this way."

Merlin had a feeling that, as much as Trickler was relying on fire, it was his area of greatest skill. Other than love potions, that is. Trickler growled in frustration and began setting the wooden buildings and various carts around him on fire, causing the occupants to come streaming out and into the street.

"Ácwenceþ!" Merlin bellowed again and again, raising his hands to either side, extinguishing the flames that had rapidly grown beyond a bucket brigade's control. The townspeople's screams fell silent; they watched in awe as Merlin repeatedly saved their homes and livelihoods.

As the last flame was extinguished, he turned to Trickler and thrust a hand in the glaring man's direction. The sorcerer was blasted back off his feet, landing ten feet away in a cart of apples. Though stunned, Trickler sat up and laughed.

"Temper, temper!" he scolded, wagging his finger in Merlin's direction.

"MERLIN!"

The warlock spun at Mithian's scream; he saw her running down the street towards him a split second before he saw and blocked the jagged, makeshift spear headed straight for him. Trickler's accomplice, who had apparently woken up, had thrown it towards him with magic. Merlin's expression hardened as he turned the spear back on it's thrower and ensured that the sorcerer would not be rejoining the fight again.

"Look out!" Mithian shouted, pulling her crossbow to her shoulder and firing in one swift movement. Merlin was surprised when Trickler suddenly grunted and let his arm drop, releasing his short blade as he looked down in shock at the crossbow bolt sticking out of his chest.

"Princess?!" Trickler asked, looking up at Mithian's fierce expression in shock and betrayal.

"It may be Merlin's duty to protect Arthur and Camelot," Mithian said, lowering her bow. "But protecting him is mine."

Merlin let out the breath he hadn't realized he was holding as Trickler dropped to the ground. Then the warlock turned towards his wife and stepped towards her, only to be waylaid by the awestruck townspeople.

"Merlin!" Mithian called, though the tumult of voices made it difficult for Merlin to hear her. Men, women and children crowded around, calling their thanks and pressing in to try and clap him on the back and ruffle his hair or congratulate him in some fashion.

"Mithian!" Merlin called out, smiling distractedly here or there and waving at those he recognized. Finally, he broke through the gathered throng and stopped a step in front of his wife.

"What were you thinking? Running after a sorcerer on your own?" Merlin asked in frustration.

"I could ask you the same thing," Mithian tossed back.

"Well, I have magic," Merlin argued.

"I don't, and yet I still managed to save your life," Mithian replied, her eyes sparkling with mischief, knowing that she had won the argument. Merlin smiled and inched a little closer, completely oblivious to the watching townspeople.

"Would you just kiss her already?!" a young girl's voice called out. Merlin laughed self-consciously, his eyes glancing around them before settling back on Mithian. The princess raised her eyebrow in challenge, a grin teasing her lips.

"Well?" Mithian asked, and Merlin gave in, taking her in his arms and pressing his lips to hers. Cheers erupted around them, only abating when a throat cleared and the crowd immediately hushed.

"Don't let us interrupt you," Arthur said, smiling as he supported Guinevere beside him.

"I've never let you interrupt me," Merlin said teasingly, taking Mithian's hand and coming to the Queen's side. "Are you alright, Gwen?"

"I'm just fine, thanks to all of you," she answered, smoothing her dress over her abdomen. Merlin nodded gratefully, then saw the quiet form standing just behind them.

"Mother," he called, rushing around his king and queen to gather Hunith in his arms for a hug.

"I'm fine, just fine," Hunith soothed, patting his back and smiling when he pulled away to take in her appearance.

"No bruises," he said, studying her features for any sign of injury as Kanen's abuse came readily to mind.

"Merlin, I'm fine," Hunith laughed, and Merlin grinned at the fond exasperation in her tone.

"Trickler?" Arthur asked, sobering the warlock instantly.

"Dead," the warlock said. "His accomplice as well."

"Is there any doubt that Alined orchestrated this?" Arthur asked, his voice weary. Merlin shook his head, his expression grim.

"He didn't mention Alined specifically by name, but he did say that his failure last time was met with punishment and he seemed to be expecting more of the same."

"I think we can safely assume that Alined is behind these attacks as well," Guinevere interjected. Merlin, Mithian and Arthur nodded grimly in agreement.

"Then let's get back to the castle," Arthur said. "It would seem that we have something new to discuss."


A/N: Whew! Of course I couldn't kill Hunith! She's a favorite of mine. Hopefully that was enough BA!Merlin for you guys. And Trickler? Did I manage to surprise any of you with that? ;)