The last several years, Arthur, Gwen, Merlin, Morgana (and whoever else) have been suffering (sometimes violent) delusions in a Mental Institution. Camelot's not real. It only exists in their heads.
"All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream." –Edgar Allan Poe
Swords clash, things explode in plumes of fire all around me. The dragon swoops, spraying fire from his giant maw. I slash with my sword, knowing it will do no good. Still, I must try.
Wait. Why is she at the well? Get out of here, get to safety! "Gwen?" I yell, trying to get her attention. The dragon has circled around and is coming back.
"Guinevere!"
"Mr. Pendell!"
Strong hands grip his shoulders. Steadying him. He blinks awake.
"Calm down, please, you're disturbing your roommate."
"My name is Arthur Pendragon, Crowned Prince of Camelot. I don't take orders from peasants."
Percival sighs. As the biggest, strongest orderly in the hospital, he's been assigned permanently to this ward, specifically to Arnold Pendell, who thinks he's a prince. He gets loud, he gets violent, and Percy is the only one large enough to physically subdue him when he is raving, screaming "For the love of Camelot!" and the woman's name, Guinevere.
"Yes, my lord. It's me, Sir Percival. You are not well, you must rest." He's learned that playing along sometimes helps.
"Oh…" he drifts off again as the sedative takes effect.
Percy glances over to the thin figure in the other bed. Marvin Endicott. Poor sod. Almost as barmy as Pendell, rambling on about "destiny." Speaks in tongues at times. Thinks he has magic powers.
Mostly harmless, though. And for some odd reason, Pendell's behavior has improved since they moved him in with Endicott.
xXx
"Hold still…"
I keep still, gasping quietly. "Is it bandits?" I whisper, watching as he reaches back, grasping for his sword, I think. My heart is in my throat.
He moves, quick as a flash, striking out. I flinch, closing my eyes. I open them to see his leather glove in his hand.
"A wasp," he declares, grinning smugly, as though he has saved me from some great peril.
He's so ridiculous. I lift up on my elbow and lean my face towards him to give him his reward. I lean down over him and his lifts his chin to meet my lips, and I am lost. He tastes of wine and spring air and sunshine, and I have never been so happy as I am in this moment.
"Genevieve? Wake up, dear, it's time for your medicine," the nurse addresses her kindly, squeezing the small woman's shoulder.
"Guinevere!"
The name, shouted from across the hall, drifts to them and the nurse sighs. "Poor man."
Because she is looking away, she doesn't notice Genevieve's eyes snap in the direction of the voice.
xXx
"Ah, Dr. Gaius. Dr. Alator, welcome," Dr. Tony Luther greets them. Dr. Luther is the hospital administrator, and he's gotten fed up with their four "star" patients. He's called in these two doctors to consult, the finest minds in minds.
"Pleasure to meet you, Dr. Luther," Dr. Gaius shakes the administrator's hand. He sits. "Tell us about these fascinating patients."
Luther slides over for manilla folders. "I don't know about fascinating, but definitely frustrating," he sighs.
Arnold Pendell, Marvin Endicott, Genevieve Thomason, Maureen Peterson.
He hands them to Dr. Alator, raising a bushy white eyebrow in a significant manner. Dr. Alator reads the names and nods.
"Pendell thinks he's royalty. He's almost the worst of the group. He can get violent, and we've had to assign a power lifter-turned orderly to him permanently because he's the only one who can overpower him. He's remarkably strong. Because he thinks he's a prince, he's very high-handed when he's awake. When he's not thrashing an imaginary sword madly about, that is."
"I see," Gaius nods calmly.
"He has been a bit better lately. We've moved him in with Endicott, who seems to have somewhat of a steadying influence. He's mostly delusional. When he's speaking English, he goes on about destiny. Talks to an imaginary dragon, sometimes."
"What language does he speak when he is not speaking English?" Dr. Alator speaks for the first time, his speech bearing a strange accent. It sounds like a strange mixture of Scottish and Polish.
"That's the fascinating bit. It appears to be a form of Old English."
Alator nods.
"Miss Thomason is generally not a problem. She doesn't speak, mostly non-responsive, even when awake. The reason she is included is, well… she seems to be the only person that Pendell is completely calm around. We discovered this quite by accident."
"Explain," Gaius prompts.
"We had a fire a few months ago. I'm sure you can imagine the kind of chaos a fire in a psychiatric hospital can cause. Well, in any case, we had to quickly move several patients, and somehow Pendell's bed ended up in Genevieve Thomason's room. He still thought he was a prince, but he was nicer. Significantly nicer."
"Why didn't you just leave him with her?" Gaius asks.
"Well, we generally do not have men and women room together. Unless they happen to be married, which only happened once. But even so we had to separate them, because in this particular case, he kept crawling into bed with her."
Gaius' mouth twitches; he is trying to hold back his smile. "Did he…?"
"No! No, no, that's the odd part. He just… lay there with her in his arms. Holding her. Whispering to her." He furrows his brow. "It would have almost been sweet if they weren't both completely gone. He would reluctantly go back to his own bed during the day, but each night he'd climb into bed with her."
"In any case, after three nights of this, we had to sedate him to move him out again. Heavily. He was out cold for a day and we had to strap him in once he woke up, he was that agitated. But then we moved him in with Endicott and while he's not been great, he's been… tolerable."
"And this last one? Peterson?" Alator asks, holding up the folder.
"She's a huge problem. We keep her confined in her own room, her wrists strapped to her bed most of the time. Even more violent than Pendell. Spits at people. Also occasionally speaks Old English. Some of the nurses refer to her as The Witch."
Gaius nods again. His unflappable demeanor both unnerves and reassures Dr. Luther.
"I suppose it's nicer than what they could call her," Luther shrugs.
xXx
"Dragorn. Non didlkai. Kari miss, epsipass imalla krat. Katostar abore ceriss. Katicur. Me ta sentende divoless. Kar… krisass."
"I am the last of my kind, Merlin. Whatever wrongs I have done, do not make me responsible for the death of my noble breed," Kilgarrah says, pleading for my mercy.
I thrust Arthur's spear at him, and he recoils. I pause.
"Go!" I shout. "Leave! If you ever attack Camelot again, I will kill you!"
Kilgarrah bowed his massive head to me, acknowledging me as a dragonlord. Acknowledging my words. I knew he would obey me. Because I am a dragonlord. He has no choice.
I throw the spear to the ground. "I have shown you mercy. Now you must do the same to others."
"Young warlock, what you have shown is what you will be. I will not forget your clemency. I'm sure our paths will cross again," he says, then pushes off from the ground by his massive legs. He flies off into the night on great, silent wings.
"It creeps me out when he talks in those strange languages," the other orderly says, walking in to see what all the noise is about. Pendell has just quieted down and now Endicott has started up, shouting in a bizarre language.
"If you're so easily creeped out, why do you work in a nuthouse?" Percy snaps at him, bringing the blankets up over the now-unconscious Pendell, tucking him in almost gently.
xXx
"Here," he pushes the water skin at me again.
"I'm fine," I say tiredly, still tearing strips of cloth.
"No, you'll have some before I finish it." He holds it down to me again.
Fine, I'll drink, just to shut him up. "Thank you," I say, taking it. The water is cool, tasting slightly leathery from the pouch. He turns his back while I work.
I cough once. Wait… something's wrong. My breath… it's not coming. I look up at Merlin, he is standing, still as stone. Then he brings his hand to his face, wiping quickly. He looks back over his shoulder.
I gasp. He poisoned me! I cannot speak. He nods once, his face grim.
I wouldn't have thought him capable. Then he crouches down, the traitor, trying to comfort me. He poisons me one minute, then tries to give comfort the next? I push him away, swat at his arms, yet somehow I find myself being held by him as the air refuses to enter my lungs.
"Aaaauuurrgghhhhh!" she screams, jolting awake. "Curse you!" She thrashes about, pulling on her restraints. "I… will… have… my… revenge!"
"Oh, shit. Get the doctor!"
"Crazy night…" the orderly mutters, sprinting from the room.
xXx
"Is it time?" Gaius asks, slipping into the ward. It is ghostly quiet, the patients slumbering in their drugged sleep.
"Nearly. We have to get to them, and quickly," Alator answers. They steal through the ward, peering at the placards next to the doors.
Endicott/Pendell.
"This one first," Alator says, pushing the door open. Thankfully, there is no one apart from the two men there. Alator crosses immediately to Marvin, frowning down at him, saddened and disgusted by his current state.
"Alator," Gaius prompts, "Do it."
Alator nods, remembering himself, and places his hand on Marvin's forehead. He closes his eyes and whispers an incantation.
Marvin's eyes snap open. They are clear, blue, and alert. He is Merlin. He sees Gaius and is about to cry out, but Alator puts his hand over his mouth. Gaius shakes his head no and puts his finger to his lips. Merlin nods and Alator moves his hand away.
"Put this on," he tosses a bundle at him and moves over to Arnold.
"Wait," Merlin whispers. "He doesn't know you; he'll immediately try to kill you when he wakes." He gets out of bed, and comes to stand beside Alator. "Okay."
Alator repeats the procedure with Arnold, and when his keen blue-grey eyes open, it is immediately clear that he is Arthur.
"Where the hell am I? Who the hell is this?" He looks at Merlin for answers.
"We'll explain later, Sire. Put these on," Gaius answers, handing him a bundle.
"Where's my sword?"
"You won't need one here, Sire," Alator answers, already striding from the room. "Merlin, where is she?"
"Across the hall. Best wake her before Arthur sees her like that," Merlin cautions.
"Sees who like what?" Arthur hisses. "Guinevere? What's happened to Guinevere?" he starts to raise his voice and Gaius shushes him, helping him change clothes.
Across the hall, Alator is bringing Gwen around, she blinks awake, her wide brown eyes puzzled and wary.
"Gwen, it's okay. He's a friend. Arthur's coming, he's…"
"Right here," Arthur says, rushing in now, to her side. "Guinevere, oh, Guinevere, what have they done to you?" he whispers, holding her on her hospital bed, peppering her face with kisses.
"The same thing they've done to you, it seems," she answers, kissing him back eagerly. "Whoever they are…" She starts pulling on the garments Gaius has handed her.
"Okay, let's go," Arthur says. He stands. He stops. "How do we get back?"
"There is one more, my lord," Alator says. "One more we must retrieve."
"Who?" Arthur says, following them out of the room, his hand in Gwen's where it belongs.
As they party slips quietly down the hall, the answer becomes clear.
"No," Arthur says. "Leave her here."
"We can't, Sire," Gaius says. "She does not belong in this world any more than any of us do. We must return with her or we'll all be trapped."
"Yes, we must bring her as well," Alator says. "It is the only way."
"Who is this guy?" Arthur mutters to Merlin.
"A friend. He has magic, but you are not killing him," Merlin answers tersely.
Arthur glances at Gwen, who just nods. Listen to him for once.
They pause outside her door.
"Take her unconscious. She'll kill us all otherwise," Merlin says. He looks at Arthur.
Sighing, Arthur steps forward and starts undoing her bindings.
"Can I be of some assistance?" a soft voice interrupts them from the door.
"Percival, thank God!" Arthur sighs, relieved. "Now I won't have to carry her."
"How did you end up here?" Gwen asks.
Percival shrugs. "Wrong place, wrong time. So I've been hiding out in plain sight, looking after you all. Luckily the insanity was not placed on my head as well."
"Help me with her," Arthur says, lifting his despicable half-sister from her bed. Percival hoists her easily up over his massive shoulder.
"To the roof," Alator declares, heading for the stairwell.
"Wait, this will be easier," Percival says, pressing the elevator button. They all eye it suspiciously. "It's bloody amazing, trust me."
There is a ping and the doors slide open. They all bundle in, staring, as Percival presses another button.
xXx
"Alator! I should have known you would show your face!" the witch screams.
They are all sprawled in the grass, on an island. The Isle of the Blessed.
"Nimueh, why do you persecute them still?" Alator asks, the first to stand.
"I thought I killed her," Merlin mutters to Gaius, helping the older man to his feet.
"You did. She was brought back somehow and still wants her revenge," Gaius whispers back.
Alator lifts his hands, chanting, calling down fury from the heavens. The skies darken; it starts to rain.
"Merlin, he needs help," Gaius says.
"I can't."
"You must. He is strong, but you are stronger."
"But Arthur…"
"Will get over it. Go," he urges.
Merlin steps forward, joining Alator, chanting with him. Nimueh's eyes grow wide with disbelief. She knows Merlin is a warlock, but she never thought he would reveal himself in front of Arthur.
"Merlin?" Arthur is dumbfounded, struggling to his feet. Gwen's gentle hand on his elbow is the only thing that stops him from rushing forward to tackle Merlin to the ground.
"Be still, Arthur, he's helping," she whispers.
"Did you know?" he sputters.
"No. Though I can't say I'm terribly surprised."
"I am."
As they watch, Nimueh shrinks, then expands, bright red, exploding in a shower of sparks. They all shield their eyes, and when they look again, the skies are clear and she is gone.
Alator sags. Merlin supports him, leading him to a rock to sit.
"Thank you," Alator gasps. "I could not have managed it on my own."
"Thank you, Alator. Only the gods know how long we would have been trapped there if you and Gaius hadn't come for us."
"Merlin?" Arthur calls.
"I'll explain everything later, Arthur," Merlin sighs. "You can put me in the dungeons if you want."
"I don't think Guinevere is going to let me do that, but you had better believe we are going to have a long talk."
"What are we going to do about her?" Percival says, pointing to the still-unconscious Morgana.
"Leave her," Merlin says. "No doubt Morgause will be along shortly to sort her out. Let's go home."