Author's Note: This chapter comes with a slight gore warning. I aimed for not too graphic, but be aware there is a bit of blood in this one, and a darkness looming at the end of this story.
Adrian was the youngest of his fellows, but his talents were comparable. He had a sense that being young somehow made him stronger – the world had not tainted his heart with misery or greed.
Adrian grew up on stories of the mighty Mordred and fair Morgana – they all had. He heard the tales of how they had fought for magic in a time when it was outlawed, and how bigoted King Arthur and the treacherous Emrys killed them both.
Arthur had lost his life in the effort, but his legacy lived on in his son. That couldn't be allowed. At least, that's what Marissa said.
"As long as a Pendragon sits on the throne magic is never really safe," Adrian repeated to himself, and he walked very surely into the courtyard to slay a dragon.
Adrian saw the massive creature from a distance. It was not asleep, which disappointed him. Aithusa raised her head and looked inquisitively at Adrian, judging him. She seemed at an impasse.
"Here, dragon, dragon, dragon," Adrian said. To his delight, the beast lumbered a few steps forward. "I'd really prefer not to kill you, especially since you once belonged to the great Morgana, but Marissa says that seeing as you're Merlin's now, you have to go."
At this, Aithusa reared up and breathed her fire. Adrian tumbled quickly out of the way and spat a spell which partly bound her – she could wriggle in place, and throw her fire, but she could no longer walk. She let out a heartrending roar and thrashed.
Adrian drew his sword; from what he knew of dragons, they were very difficult to kill, but if you hit them in hard enough and in just the right spot, you could deal a mortal blow. He sucked in a deep breath and jabbed – but his move was deflected. A Knight of Camelot not much older than him stood in his way.
"I will not let you harm this dragon," Tristan said through a yawn. He used his clever sword work and forced Adrian back a few steps.
Adrian was not especially good with a sword – he didn't need to be – so he shouted a spell instead. Tristan went flying across the courtyard. Slightly shaken, Adrian charged again, only to be blocked by a darker, sullen knight.
Galahad stood between Adrian and the dragon. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I can't let you hurt this dragon either."
Tristian, struggling back to his feet said, "That's the spirit! For Camelot!"
IOIOIOIOIOI
Leon was slumped on the stairs, fast asleep. Arthur tried to shake him awake, but the affect was minimal. Leon's eyes popped open for a moment in surprise, then they fluttered closed again. Gareth stepped past them and crept towards Gwen's chambers.
"You!" Arthur shouted, "Stop!"
Gareth pushed open the door, and Arthur grabbed him from behind, throwing him to the ground. He ran into the room, only to find Gwen was no longer there.
"Guinevere?" Arthur called, but it was no use.
Gareth, startled beyond reckoning, sat up and cast a spell to reveal whomever or whatever had just tackled him. It was not a spell specific to ghosts, however, and Arthur remained hidden. Shaking, Gareth searched for Gwen but found nothing.
"The boy's chamber is two doors down the hall," said Marissa's disembodied voice inside Gareth's head. He turned back down the hall.
Arthur heard Marissa, too, or rather heard something high and whining that he almost thought was a voice. He followed close at Gareth's heels, pulling at his cloak, kicking at the back of his knees.
"Just wait until I find a sword," Arthur said.
IOIOIOIOIOI
Merlin had definitely heard Marissa inside his head, and her words made him very, very angry. He unleashed a tornado which flew across the room at the woman who had deceived him. She produced a column of fire, which collided with the wind in a spectacular swirl of color.
"Give up, Emrys, we are equally matched and no one is coming to help you."
"You're wrong on both accounts," Merlin said. Without lifting a finger, he flung a pair of decorative swords across the room. Marissa stopped one by raising her palm and ducked out of the way of the other.
"You're thinking too small," she said. She spoke deeply then, and Merlin did not recognize the spell. The castle began to shake, and it was clear Marissa had every intent of reducing it to rubble.
IOIOIOIOIOI
When the castle began to tremble, Gareth shivered and covered is head. He was afraid: afraid that he would die here, and afraid that something worse awaited if he lived and did not accomplish his mission. He stumbled into the boy's room, swatting at the nothingness that kept pulling his cloak and muttering a counter spell intended to keep the ceiling where it belonged.
With only a partial sense of relief, he saw the boy lying on the bed, sleeping soundly through the chaos.
IOIOIOIOIOI
"You are tired, Emrys," Marissa said. She was right; Merlin was using all of his energy to keep the castle standing, but he was losing his battle with exhaustion. Marissa laughed a wicked laugh, and he saw in her Morgana, and Morgause, and Nimueh, and Mordird – and he saw the darkness which corrupted all of them.
"You are not special," Merlin said. "I have defeated you before." He pushed a little harder, and from the look on Marissa's face, she felt it.
"No, Emrys. You will never defeat this. Even if you manage to stop me here today, there will always be another."
"Maybe," Merlin said, "But I will always be here to protect Camelot and the people I love."
He threw forth all of his power, and it emerged as pure light that swelled in the room and consumed all of the darkness it touched. The light swallowed Marissa. She screamed as it did, tearing a few more bits of the castle apart in a final act of hate.
IOIOIOIOIOI
Gareth took a step towards the boy. His cape tangled around his legs. He took a deep breath, untangled himself. He felt a thump against his head. He ran forward, and fell, and did not know why he fell.
"Stop this now!" he shouted. He drew a dagger and sliced at the air, but air was all it was. He stood again, and resolved to try to kill the boy with a spell. Spells without poultices or hosts or magical objects weren't the most effective way of killing, but Gareth was desperate. He shouted a few words and then felt a cold hand clamp over his mouth. There was a hand on his neck, too.
Panicking, he thrashed himself free of the thing he did not see, and he ran towards the boy with the dagger ready.
Arthur, who absolutely would not let anything happen to his son, decided he did not need a sword. He thrust his intangible hand right through Gareth and grabbed onto his heart, and he pulled.
George woke up screaming. There was a dead man with a fist-sized bloody hole in his back, and a heart floating in the red outline of a hand.
Merlin rushed into the room and tried to make sense of it all. "George, George, it's okay," Merlin said, though he was certain that none of this was okay. The boy ran over to Merlin and buried his face in Merlin's stomach.
Leon groggily came to the door, sword drawn. His eyes grew wide and he stammered. The heart continued to hoover in the air, because Arthur continued to hold it, in utter shock of what he had done.
"George, go with Leon," Merlin said. "I will take care of this." Leon pulled George away. When they were well out of earshot, Merlin said, "Arthur?"
"He was going to kill George," Arthur said, still staring at the heart.
"I know," Merlin said.
"I had to stop him."
"I know."
