Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.

Chapter Seven

Merlin awoke to screaming.

There was no moment of disorientation, no wondering where he was. The moment his eyes flew open, he was searching, ready to protect Arthur from the maera.

Next to him, he saw the king spring to his feet and grab his sword as he sprinted towards the village.

The maera had come, but it hadn't come from Arthur.

Merlin ran after him, stumbling once or twice over roots, but within seconds he could see the flames ahead of him.

Alena's house was on fire. Merlin felt his magic rise up within him; he could summon a rain storm or pull life from the fire.

Except he couldn't. He had promised. If the fire was endangering someone, he could, but he spotted Alena and Kelson huddling in the shelter of another house.

"Stand back!" he heard Arthur yell to the villagers. "Let us handle it!"

Merlin looked in the direction of the sound, and he felt himself go cold at what he saw. Arthur and the knights were surrounding a huge creature.

If this is what Kelson saw in his dreams, he was right to call it a monster.

It was easily more than twice Arthur's height, and in the light of the fire, Merlin could see the muscles rippling under its sleek fur. It had multiple heads, fire and teeth flashing in the night. The lion's mouth roared while the dragon's head reached for its prey, teeth closing mere inches from Percival's head.

The knight dodged, bringing his sword up and stabbing the dragon in the throat. The dragon jerked back, taking the sword with it, and all three heads shrieked in anger. The dragon shook his head angrily, and the sword clattered back to the ground.

Leon tried to take advantage of the distraction to go for the lion's head, but even as the dragon was freeing itself from the sword, one enormous paw reached out and swiped Leon to the side as though he were no more than a kitten's play toy. Merlin saw the knight fly through the air and then crumple to the ground, unmoving.

The goat's mouth let out a roar of fire, forcing the other knights back and catching Elyan on the side. He screamed, then lunged through the fire and drove his sword into the creature's belly. The maera turned and snapped at him with the lion's mouth, and Elyan stumbled backwards, wincing in pain as he landed on the burned side. He rose again, but he was limping and he had no sword.

Merlin felt it was safe to say they were losing.

He ducked behind a wagon where he was unlikely to be seen, then focused his attention on Arthur's sword. "Bregdan anweald gafeluec!"

He felt the magic fly into Arthur's sword and saw the telltale glow. If Arthur noticed anything, he didn't show it, and Merlin was relieved that his magic hadn't distracted Arthur from the fight. He repeated the spell on the other swords, but it seemed to make no difference. The knights successfully landed blow after blow, but the wounds didn't seem to faze the beast.

"Ástríce!" Merlin whispered, trying to stun the maera, but the spell had no effect. He quickly began making his way through most of the battle spells he knew, and once or twice he thought the creature might have briefly faltered in response, but it didn't help. Even when it hesitated and Arthur landed a blow straight through his chest from the right and Percival landed a blow through one of its throats at the same time, the creature still shook them off as though the wounds were nothing more than scratches.

As the fight continued on, Merlin began to feel truly frightened. The creature seemed unharmable, and it occurred to him that it might actually kill most – or all – of the knights before the battle was over. He could see Arthur and the others weakening, their movements becoming sluggish, their reflexes delayed, and his spells seemed to help little, if at all.

Merlin himself was growing tired and worn. His week of no food and little sleep was catching up with him, and he had poured out copious amounts of magic in his attempts to help.

And so he was too slow to save Arthur.

The lion's paw found him, forcing him to stumble backwards and fall, not for the first time that night. But this time, the dragon's head turned to see where he landed. Merlin saw the dragon pull back, then dive into the strike.

Then, with the dragon just inches from Arthur, the creature stopped. All three heads whipped around to look east, and the beast faded into smoke.

Through the smoke, Merlin could see the rising sun.

Arthur couldn't help but close his eyes as he saw the dragon's head coming at him.

So this was how it ended. At least he was going out fighting, his knights by his side. That thought would be more comforting if he felt the sacrifice had a purpose in it, but he knew they were losing this fight. Leon was most likely already dead, and after Arthur died, the creature would kill the rest of the knights. And then it would move on to the rest of the village. And then on to the rest of Camelot.

Arthur had failed his people.

And, it occurred to him, Merlin would always believe that Arthur hated him for what he had done. Arthur had never even thanked him for the times he had saved his life.

And then Arthur realized that he had an awful lot of time for thinking. And things had gone strangely quiet. Cautiously, he opened his eyes.

The creature was gone. The sun was rising. Villagers were poking their heads out from their hiding places, watching the king and his knights find their way to their feet.

Elyan was burned and hobbling, but he was alive. Gwaine and Percival both looked exhausted and battered, but they were on their feet.

Leon. Leon had taken a blow early, and Arthur had not seen him since. Leon was a brave and determined warrior; if he hadn't returned to the fight, Arthur knew what that probably meant.

Looking around, he spotted the body several yards behind him, near the tree line. He hurried over, turning Leon onto his back. To Arthur's surprise and relief, his chest was moving. Somehow, he was still alive. But his mangled chainmail was red with blood, and his face was pale.

"We need to get the armor off," he heard a low voice say behind him, and he turned to see Merlin. "I need to see his injuries."

Arthur helped him wrestle Leon out of the armor, at which point the injuries were fairly obvious. His shirt had four slashes through it and was soaked in blood.

"It must have gotten a direct hit with its claws," Merlin muttered.

Arthur stood up, unsurprised to find the other knights behind him. "Gwaine, Percival, go talk to the villagers. Try to calm them down and put out any fires that are still going. Elyan, go sit down and rest. You're barely staying on your feet."

"Arthur," Merlin murmured once the others had left. "These injuries won't heal."

Arthur closed his eyes. He knew. He had known when he'd seen Leon go flying and not get back up.

But Leon wasn't just another knight; he had served him since before his father's death. The knight was slightly older than Arthur, and the king honestly couldn't remember a time when Leon hadn't been there. He was a true friend, and there was no one Arthur would rather have at his side in battle.

"I can save him." Merlin's voice was barely audible. "If you'll let me."

Arthur froze.

"I've saved all of you before, more times than I can count. It's nothing new. Nothing that you haven't gone through yourself a dozen times. Or a few dozen times."

Merlin had healed them with magic. Of course he had. It was obvious, now that Arthur thought about it. How many times had one of them had an injury that seemed life-threatening at first glance, only to have Merlin examine them and declare it to be a minor thing that would heal on its own?

"Arthur, please." Merlin knelt beside Leon, his eyes fixed on the knight. "He's my friend too." His voice shook. "He was kind to me. Please don't ask me to let him die when I can save him."

Arthur closed his eyes for a moment. Of course he was going to let Merlin save Leon. Why even pretend like it was worth deliberating?

"Do it," he said shortly.

"Keep an eye out," Merlin instructed. Arthur moved around to the other side so that he could see over Leon and Merlin to the village beyond. That way he could spot anyone approaching them.

Merlin let his hands hover over Leon's chest. Arthur ordered himself to look away; he didn't want to see this side of Merlin. But despite himself, he glanced down as Merlin murmured, "Ic hæle þina þrowunga." Merlin's eyes flashed gold, and Arthur felt the surge of terror that he always felt in connection with sorcery. His uneasiness increased as he imagined Merlin speaking those same words over him, his eyes blazing as magic flowed into Arthur's body.

Merlin closed his eyes for a moment, hands still hovering, then he lowered his hands and lifted his head to look at Arthur.

"He's still in rough shape, but he should live. With any luck, he should wake within the next few hours. He'll be in pain, but if you'll let me keep treating him, I should be able to minimize the pain and speed up the healing."

Arthur nodded. Then, unbidden, the thought that had been building up inside spilled out of him. "This never would have happened if I'd just let you enchant the swords," he said brokenly.

To his surprise, Merlin shook his head. "I enchanted all of the swords after Leon fell. I did everything I could think of to do. You said I could, if lives were in danger. But it didn't matter, Arthur. The creature was too strong." Guilt crept into Merlin's voice. "My magic made no difference."

Arthur was stunned. "You did magic?"

Merlin's head snapped up to look at him. "You said I could, to save someone's life!" His voice has an almost desperate edge to it, and Arthur held up a hand to calm him.

"It's fine. I'm just surprised, I guess. I thought…I thought if you used magic, we would win. That was my last resort. But we still lost. So I guess the last resort failed." Arthur felt despair settling in on him. What would happen when the maera returned? Was it truly unbeatable?

"I should go check on the villagers, and then we all need to meet to come up with a plan. You stay with Leon." He took a couple of steps away, then turned back. He knew he had to say it, even though the words stuck in his throat.

"Thank you."

"Did we even manage to slow it down?" Leon asked, cringing as he tried to get comfortable sitting up in bed.

"No," Elyan blurted, irritated. "We fought it for hours, and all we accomplished was getting a variety of burns and bruises."

The party was packed into a small house, seated on chairs and on the floor near Leon's bed. A kind townsperson had offered their home, and given the severity of Leon's injuries, Arthur had accepted this time.

"We got some good blows in," Gwaine said. "A number of them, in fact. It just didn't seem to matter. It was like the creature never even felt pain, much less noticed any damage."

"We cannot beat it with just swords," Arthur admitted quietly. "Gaius warned me that was a possibility, although I hoped he was wrong."

Percival raised his eyebrows. "Did Gaius say what would work, if swords wouldn't?"

"Something called the Ainthia. It's supposed to be hidden in the Valley of the Fallen Kings," Arthur added reluctantly, clenching and unclenching his hand. A long night of fighting had reawakened his injuries from the previous week. "It's a form of magic."

The knights took a moment to process that. Leon spoke first.

"The Cup of Life saved my life once, so I cannot believe all magic is evil. I do believe that creature is evil, so if magic will allow us to defeat it, then I'm in favor of taking that step." The others nodded in agreement.

"I don't like the idea of using magic," Percival admitted, "but right now, I see no other choice."

Out of the corner of his eye, Arthur saw a slight smile on Merlin's face.

"I agree," Arthur said with an unhappy sigh. "We rest tonight. Tomorrow morning, we leave for the Valley of the Fallen Kings."

"What happens if it attacks again tonight?" Elyan asked soberly.

"Then we fight it again."

And we hope we can survive until dawn.