Belated holidays to all! I meant for this to be a gift earlier, but alas, I'm easily distracted (and writing further on has been rather like pulling teeth, letter by letter).
A/N: This chapter got a little graphic; animal lovers, be warned, and see note at the end.
He almost made it to the next morning without incident.
Arthur…
"Lemme 'lone…" Arthur rolled over, draping one arm around Gwen's shoulders.
Arthur, it's not safe…they keep trying…
"Go away, 'm the king…"
I need your help…
His head filled with strange blackish mist. Arthur realized the voice belonged to Merlin, and immediately scoured his indistinct surroundings for the gangly servant. Occasionally he caught a flash of red that could be a neckerchief—or flame. But nothing clear. Merlin's breathing was audible, as if he struggled against something.
"Merlin, where are you?" Arthur called into the emptiness. His head echoed chillingly. "You have to tell me if I'm going to help you."
I can't hold on for long…
"Come on, you have to give me more than—"
The howl reverberated through Arthur like a physical pain. Suddenly the flying creature broke through the mist, heading straight at him—and he was awake, sitting up in bed.
Arthur gasped for breath; sweat dripped from his bangs. Gaius' potion hadn't worked after all. Such thoughts were quickly wiped from his mind, however, when he actually saw the elusive thing that refused to leave him alone. It crouched on the floor near the curtains. Well, sagged was probably more accurate. Its body was about the size of a cat, and a translucent red, almost glowing from within. The gold eyes radiated exhaustion and fear. It was a small dragon. The one he thought he saw in the pyre flames.
And already, it began to flicker out.
Arthur…
"Gwen, I need you to wake up, you have to see this!" Arthur hissed, shaking his wife's shoulder. "Gwen!"
She nearly jumped right out of bed. Arthur had to cover her mouth before she could cry out in surprise, and then pulled her forward. But it was too late. He turned back around, only to see the creature dissolve into the shadows. Nothing was left to see by the time Gwen was fully up.
"Arthur, what's this about?" she sighed, groggy.
"There was—I swear—the creature from my dream was here! Right in the corner, a miniature dragon!" he blustered. His heart was still racing. The voice had lingered in his head before the dragon disappeared. It couldn't be… "I think…I think it might be Merlin."
Gwen slipped out of bed to survey the corner properly, before walking over to the table. "It's dark, Arthur. You've had a stressful day. You must have been dreaming again. Merlin can't—"
"That's just it, according to Gaius, I wasn't supposed to dream! But I heard Merlin's voice, and then it flew at me, and it showed up here—please, you believed me before. Wherever Merlin went after he died, something's not right." Arthur got up as well to pace the room. He knew Gwen's concerned stare followed him in the dark. Pale moonlight highlighted the edges of nearby objects, including her. "When we had the funeral, I thought I saw something then. A trick of the flames. They almost outlined a dragon, if I thought hard enough."
"Arthur—"
"Gaius thinks there's a possibility I'm right. Okay, he doesn't know about the Merlin-turned-ghost-dragon part yet, but it could all still lead back to magic. And we'll never really know what Merlin was capable of, will we? Cornelius Sigan was able to come back and work sorcery, why not Merlin?"
"I'm not trying to say you're wrong, Arthur," Gwen pleaded. "I'm not sure what to think of all this. But there's not much we can do about it at this hour. I'll be honest, I didn't see anything. You have a bit of Gaius' potion left; take it, and try to rest properly so you can start tomorrow with a level head."
Arthur couldn't entirely refute her. The memory of Merlin's pained cry rang in his ears, the image of the terrified little dragon (an odd juxtaposition) burning in his mind's eye. A creature that could possibly be their lost friend. Part of him screamed to rush out of the chambers, regardless of what he wore, and figure this puzzle out. Merlin had tried to warn him of trouble, twice now. What 'kept trying'?
The cool vial pressed into his hand. He took it. There was so much that didn't make sense, but being dead on his feet wouldn't help. Gwen gently led him back to bed. He downed the potion—why did potions always have to taste so vile? The effects were quick. Once more he drifted off, hoping the sun would bring some answers.
"There, Sire! The stag has crossed the stream!"
Arthur led the knights at a gallop after the powerful animal. He caught flashes of it between trees, darting adeptly through the underbrush ahead of them. "Keep straight after it! Percival, you're with me. We'll sweep around to its right flank," he directed the party. They all moved accordingly.
Few things matched the thrill of the chase. Arthur loved how the adrenaline heightened his senses, forcing every detail into sharp relief. The sun was warm and the breeze fresh as his horse ran. He and Percival split off for a few dozen yards, quarry still in sight, before circling back in. Their approach was masked by the stag's fear of the main group of pursuers. Arthur readied his spear.
Merlin would be taking on that little grimace of his right about now. He never did like the idea of actually killing a harmless animal, even if it was put to good use afterward.
Arthur's shot tangled in the big buck's rack, the result of his momentary lapse into thought. But his spear startled and hampered their prey just enough for Elyan's to hit the mark. The creature went down.
The knights congratulated Elyan on the fine catch. Arthur meant to as well, until his horse spooked a bit, tossing at the reins. "What's the matter, boy? Still got energy left?" The horse wouldn't settle down. "I think I'm going to take him to the stream and back, let him work this out."
The water wasn't even out of earshot of the others. Arthur had his sword and crossbow, not that he felt he would need them. This stretch of woods was royal land. It lay too far from the main highway to attract bandits, and poaching was dealt with harshly. Anyway, what band of thieves stood a chance against the knights of Camelot?
A snap of thin wood caught his attention, though he judged it to be other nearby wildlife. The horse finally calmed somewhat, drinking from the quiet stream. Arthur fondly patted the animal's dark coat. "That's better now, right?"
That's when the Questing Beast leapt at them from the fringe of the opposite bank.
Arthur was nearly thrown from his seat. Another magical creature returned from the dead?! He wrestled his horse away from the swiping claws, knowing firsthand the damage they could wreak. Gaius seemed sure they were just apparitions of some kind. Well, this one felt real enough to deal out lethal poison. Arthur didn't want to find out which theory was true.
The Beast roared, and Arthur swore he heard the echo of a human scream. Merlin's. The flash of the dragon was nowhere to be seen (not that he had much leeway to look carefully), but he knew he servant's voice anywhere.
"Away! Forget the stag; we have to go, now!" he shouted as he spurred his horse back toward the others. Half the knights had dismounted to work on the kill. Great. No one had much of a chance to give him a questioning glance, as the thundering footfalls of the Beast spoke for themselves. A huge, snake-headed monster wasn't exactly a common feature in these woods. At least they can see it this time. The whole hunting party was very much in trouble. "Everyone still on their mounts, protect the others! OUT WEAPONS!"
Arthur wheeled around with his crossbow ready. The Questing Beast crashed through a thick clump of trees, splintering them. Two knights had to scramble out of the way so as not to be crushed. A spear narrowly missed the Beast's head—thrown by Percival before the big knight leapt onto his shrieking horse.
The spitting-mad creature kept its beady eyes on Arthur the entire time. The rest of the knights were just an annoyance, only swatted at if they got too close. Otherwise, it was intent on getting to Arthur. Could it possibly REMEMBER me? He fired shot after shot at the beast, though the bolts mostly glanced off hard scales. Behind Arthur, Gwaine was having trouble mounting his horse for the animal's terrified bucking.
And then the crossbow jammed. A bit of fletch stem had caught in the locking mechanism on the previous shot, too small for Arthur to get out with his gloved fingers. The Beast reared up to strike.
"Sire!"
Elyan appeared in front of him just as the Beast's claws came down. The insane man went nearly flat on his back in the saddle to avoid them—the horse, however, was not so lucky. Razor talons dug into its neck and shoulder. Both animal and rider went down.
"Elyan!" Arthur screamed. This was turning into a nightmare. They had to get out of here. Gwaine, who had finally bested is own horse, led the charge to try to divert the Questing Beast. Leon dove in to check on Elyan, who at least was still moving. Nothing could be done to save the horse, that much was clear. Arthur followed to help untangle the two. A long, bleeding gash rent Elyan's right trouser leg and boot top.
"Just a graze, I'm okay," he gasped. He allowed himself to be led to Leon's horse. Arthur, feeling a bit sick at the whole mess, quickly took his knife to the injured horse's neck. Better to end its suffering now. The whole world felt much heavier as he remounted.
"Everyone retreat! Fast as you can back to Camelot!" he ordered. The group eagerly obliged. Those who still had useful crossbows took to the back, firing parting shots. As expected, the Beast gave chase for awhile. However, its size and need to plow through the close trees was more of a hindrance in a straight run. The horses were more agile, better suited to slip between trunks. By the time the knights broke the forest line, the Questing Beast had fallen behind. Not that it wasn't enraged for having lost its prey. As things were, something seemed to have distracted it—its serpent head shook violently and shrieked.
Merlin's cry returned tenfold as well, so loud Arthur had to cover his ears. His knights appeared to notice some kind of noise, though not such a deafening one. Percival guided his horse alongside Arthur's. "Sire, are you alright?"
Arthur shook his head clear. "Something about the Beast's cry was just grating. Come on, let's get back to the castle before we get any more surprise visits. Elyan needs to see Gaius." He goaded his horse forward once more. The fading cry still rang in his ears.
They reached the gates unimpeded. The going was a bit slow through the crowds of the lower town. Were the streets fuller than usual, or was it just Arthur's adrenaline-flooded mind? He only knew he could not get back within the citadel fast enough. This whole business was beginning to unnerve him. Supposedly destroyed monsters returning to hunt him, messages from his dead servant, haunting dreams…how much more could he take?
A fair-sized group of commoners milled around the main courtyard. Guards tried to talk to them; just about everyone looked scared.
"Sire!" One of the soldiers caught sight of the returning king. "These people say their village was threatened by some kind of creature not an hour ago, just off the highway at the edge of the woods. Go on, tell the king what happened." He ushered a middle-aged trapper forward. The man bobbed his head respectfully several times.
"Your Highness, it appeared out of nowhere—a flying creature whose very skin seemed to blaze. It screeched something terrible, circling the tops of the trees," explained the peasant.
Arthur's brow furrowed. He signaled for Elyan to be taken on to Gaius, and then dismounted so he could speak more privately to this man. A waiting stable hand took the tired horse. "A flying creature? How big was it? Did it hurt anyone? Where did it go?"
"Bigger than an eagle, your Highness, but not by much. If I didn't know better, I would have thought it to be some kind of dragon!" The trapper swallowed hard. Arthur's chest filled with dread. "It didn't attack directly that I saw. As soon as it showed up, I began gathering the vulnerable to get them away. It was intent on something, though. Almost searching. I suppose it could have just been sick or injured, and thus disoriented. But I didn't want to risk lives by waiting to find out."
"You did well," Arthur assured him, clapping the man on the shoulder. "Orric, see that they're taken care of. That explains the crowds in the lower town. We encountered another, more deadly creature while on the hunt, so I don't want anyone returning to the area yet." He gathered the reins of his tired horse. "And I want the council in chambers as soon as possible."
"Yes, Sire."
Further A/N: to the SPCA and its supporters (I consider myself one)—I do not, IN ANY WAY, condone violence toward animals. I was, however, trying to go for realism in the case of facing a very nasty, deadly enemy. It is a well-known, if unfortunate fact of history that when a large animal is beyond help, putting the creature down is considered merciful compared to leaving it to a slow, painful death. I apologize to anyone who may have found that bit disturbing. I don't anticipate any more scenes of that nature, thankfully.