A/N: Hello Darlings.
So here it is chapter 14. I am sorry about the wait, life tried to give me lemons so i had to chase after him to give them back :D. No seriously, uni and other fics got in the way. Plus it's really hard to write a battle scene.
I have got to say, I am sad now. I have only 2 or 3 chapters left of this fic then it's over. :'(. I have an idea for a sequel but there is nothing concrete yet.
I humbly thank everyone who has reviewed, and/or added me or this story to their fav/alert list. I also thank any one who has just read the fic. It really makes my day :D
Disclaimer: I, The Owl Mage, do not own the rights to the BBC drama Merlin.
ENJOY!
Chapter 14
Parry. Duck. Stab.
Arthur withdrew his blade from the sorcerer who had charged at him, only to be cut down. It seemed that Morgana's army consisted of weak magic users, many using weapons and only using spells either to enhance their strikes or when they were overwhelmed.
But that didn't make them any easier to fight. A sword on sword fight was by no means predictable; but it was far more so than trying to guess what a magician would do next. There was no tell in their bodies, a wave of a hand having many more outcomes than the swing of a sword.
Parry. Duck. Stab.
He once heard that he danced when he fought, his feet moving effortlessly as if he was waltzing. He firmly believed those people had never truly seen battle, never felt as if each moment was to be their last.
He dodged the swipe taken at him by a large man who had finished with his last opponent, the blood of the fallen man staining the blade.
Duck. Block. Swing with two hands, slow. Step back. Wait. Swipe.
The man falls to the ground, dying if not already dead. Behind him, he hears a man scream, the smell of burning flesh following heavily. But he cannot mourn, cannot think of the poor soul.
Parry. Duck. Stab.
Ambrousius pumped his wings hard, surfing the winds, praying he was not too late.
He was cursing himself. He completely forgot about the threat the witch caused. He knew she was still alive, knew she was up to something, no matter how quiet her movements were.
Now, because he was off playing dragon, because he had not been vigilant, Morgana was attacking his home.
But as soon those thoughts entered his mind, another voice, one that sounded like a strange mix of Kilgharrah, Gaius and his mother chased them away. And if this mix did not disturb Merlin enough, his animalistic part, which had mostly merged with him with only the tiniest sliver remaining to act as his ancient instincts agreed with it.
Ambrousius knew that his frightening combination was right, that if he had remained in Camelot during his transformation, he and his friends would have ended up hurt. The knowledge did not lighten his heavy heart.
So it was for that reason he pumped his wings to the limit, till pain flared along his muscles. And then he pushed them even further, hoping, praying that he would arrive in time.
He was tiring, Arthur knew that. Never before had such a large group of sorcerers joined together to attack Camelot and it was something the city was unprepared for, the council believing that the pride and ego of these evil beings would not allow them to band together and share the 'glory' of killing the king.
Dispatching another low level magician, the blonde man searched for Morgana. She was by far the strongest of the sorcerers here and if Arthur could take her out (something that made his heart ache with memories of better times) then the others would possibly flee.
It wasn't hard to find his sister. She was located on a small hill just away from the main battle. Just further proof, she had changed because of magic. Morgana, his Morgana who teased and infuriated him for no other reason because she could, would never stay out of a fight, always willing to prove that she was just as good a warrior, if not a better one, than any knight. To the king this was further proof that magic was evil ('but Merlin has magic, is he evil? No, yes, I don't know').
Blocking a strike, Arthur made his way to words his half-sister, killing those who tried to stop him. It wasn't long before the witch noticed him. With a wave of her hand, Morgana silently ordered her men to move away from the royal. It was obvious that their fear of their mistress was greater than any desire for vengeance or glory they would get from killing Camelot's king.
With a heavy heart Arthur watched as Morgana descended towards him, as she approached he felt his chest ache with the knowledge that something was missing, something that should be by his side was gone and the loss weighed him down.
Finally he could see it, the proud towers of Camelot. Granted his draconic eyes were much better than his human, so he was further away than he would be if he spotted the towers in Merlin form, but then, he was faster as a dragon so the differences didn't matter.
Soon he could hear the sounds of battle. Angling his wings, Ambrousius launched himself higher into the clouds. He wanted to survey the battle before diving in.
For once, the magical being was glad that the knights of Camelot wore bright red capes. Normally they were the bane of the once-servants life, especially on patrols and hunting trips. Ambrousius never understood the logic behind wanting to be sneaky whilst wearing what was the cloth equivalent to shouting 'I'm over here waiting to be shot at and/or ambushed and/or killed' at the top of your voice.
Now however those cloaks were helping him identify who were his (still hopefully) allies and who were his enemies. While his eyesight was fantastic, all he could see where the tops of the fighters heads, and sadly, Camelot did not have an official hair colour and style.
Surprisingly, it didn't take the dark dragon very long to find Arthur. It seemed subconsciously he had flown in the direction of his king, the bonds of destiny tugging him towards the one he was meant to protect and guide. And even with out the bond, Ambrousius would have been able to identify the owner of that sun gold hair anywhere, for very few people, especially males, bore that shade.
Whilst that thought would normally make the dragon smile, the scene he came across caused the exact opposite. He knew who opposed his master, who held a sword to his chest, ready to deal a final blow. He could taste the polluted magic that coiled of the one he once called friend. But he was not going to stand for it. Morgana would not win.
With a roar, Ambrousius shot down towards the battle field, wing beats filling the silence that fell after his call. Flames laced with the colour of a raven's wing blasted true from between ivory teeth and soared over the witch's head.
He landed, wings spread. He curled his tail between Arthur and Morgana who had leapt back in shock when he had shown himself.
Bearing fangs at the woman, the dragon crouched, ready for anything and determined to defend his friend.
Morgana grinned at her brother, victorious feelings already welling up inside her. Oh she knew he would have eventually made his way over to her. None of the pathetic worms had the skill to defeat her beloved brother, and even if one did, they knew the honour of killing him went to her, as it was her right to dispose of threats to her crown. But she had not expected him to come to her so soon.
Still she was glad he had, she was getting bored and impatient. No other citizen, bar the royal family, of this hole of a city had the worth to be slain by her, expect perhaps those blasted knights who had help her brother in her pervious invasions. And of course the traitorous Merlin, but alas he was already dead.
Pulling herself out of her thoughts, she turned towards her evil brother, ignoring the pangs of regret that rarely made an appearance. The past was something she could never, nor did she want to; get back, although she did wish her sister was still by her side.
Smirking at the thief who had stolen her throne, she descended with her arms out to her side, like a spirit of death ready to embrace her brother.
Once she reached the base of the hill, Arthur rushed her, sword swinging, ready to take her down. With a sigh, she waved her hand and sent her brother flying. He landed hard on his back, sword falling from his hand.
She stalked towards the prone figure, drawing her own sword as she went. She rarely carried a blade any more, her magic was so much more efficient and powerful than steel. But she chose to use this blade for symbolic reasons. It was given to her by Arthur for her birthday, the birthday before she had discovered the truth about her gift. Morgana only felt it was fitting she ended the life of the false king with the gift he gave her, and thus destroying the last ties between them.
Once she reached Arthur, she smirked down towards this pained face, levelling the blade over his heart.
"So dear brother, any last words before I end your reign of fear and lies?"
Arthur glared at her, but deep within those blue orbs, pity and sadness peered out. "Why, Morgana? Can't you see you have become everything you claimed to hate! Everything you claim to fight against!"
The witch sneered. "You are a fool Arthur. I fight for my rightful place, as Queen!" With this, she drew the blade back, ready to strike.
ROOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRR
Morgana, and the whole battle field froze. Those who where there on those nights of terror when the castle had been under siege shivered in remembered terror as the sound that haunted their very nightmares echoed, followed by the sounds of large wing beats.
Morgana was forced to duck and scramble back as black edged flames flew over her head, narrowly missing her hair. She stared in awe and disbelief as a large black dragon with a curious ring of red scales landed, wings flared, gold-ringed eyes narrowed. A dragon with rather unfortunate ear fins, a dragon that made Arthur's traitorous heart jump with joy.
Ambrousius had arrived.
A/N: And thus ends chapter 14.
No random facts today, I've done to much Harvard referencing so might end up doing that with the fact :P
And now we part until chapter 15