Sure enough, Morgana made every attempt she could on their lives. When Arthur felt Merlin's presence these times, it was as if his traitorous sister also breathed down his neck. Merlin as they had known him was slowly disappearing. Every time Gaius had to resort to magic, Arthur flinched for his dead friend as well as out of habit toward suspicious power. Accepting magic as a boon was harder than he ever would have imagined. Not that he had much chance to ponder the nuances of the situation. They were far from safe.
The knights of Mehir reappeared to block a particularly constricted section of the path. Gaius had no choice but to blast them right out. At least the Black Knight (its hideous face left uncovered this time) was something they could outrun long enough for it to fade. Perhaps Merlin had a hand in that one; constant adrenaline made it hard for Arthur to tell. But the little blue flying people were tricky. They were naturally fast already, it seemed, and only that much faster under Morgana's control. One latched onto Arthur's horse's ears, driving it wild. Another dug its sharp claws into Arthur's neck. He couldn't do more than swat at the thing as he tried to keep the horse from crashing into trees. Gaius kept pace, easily dispatching of his own assailants, but he had just as much trouble finding a shot across that didn't risk the king's life. Towing the third horse only complicated the whole matter.
"Can't you just knock it off with the staff or something? Ahh!" shouted Arthur, head jerking back as the fairy-thing grabbed a fresh hold. He at least managed to dislodge the one on his horse with a swing of his blade. "I need you to do something!"
A dark blur flashed in his peripheral vision a couple times. Then a powerful whack caused white to flash before his eyes. Only his newly regained control of his horse kept him from falling off. However, the scrabbling little cretin was gone from his neck. A weary sigh from Merlin echoed in his mind.
Gaius rode up close as they slowed down, trying to untangle the mess of reins in his right hand. "My apologies, Sire—"
"That'll do, Gaius." Arthur rubbed out the worst of the pain in his head and neck, ignoring the spots of blood that came away on his glove. Pattering rain began to filter through their leafy ceiling. "I've kept on with worse. Just please tell me we don't have much farther to go."
"We should catch sight of the lake before too long, Sire. The chase has covered quite some distance." He looked curiously at Arthur. "Any sense of Merlin?"
"He's still there, just barely. I keep feeling Morgana trying to overpower him, though. He's running out of time." Voicing his fears produced a hard lump in Arthur's gut.
"We'll get him back. Merlin has always managed to hold on."
"Until I wasn't able to get there fast enough…"
"His death was not your fault, Sire. No one, certainly not Merlin, I imagine, holds you responsible." Gaius' grip on his reins tightened with conviction. "I know it must feel like this is your chance to be redeemed. I won't deny feeling like I failed him in some way myself. But destiny is bigger than all of us. We have to trust that what is meant to happen will work out. Don't put more on yourself than you deserve."
Arthur couldn't hold back a sheepish grin. Good old Gaius. Perhaps he had been holding onto some guilt. Perhaps that's why he was willing to go to such lengths for a servant who had become a friend. The thought had never occurred to him before—why he was willing to face even his entire perception of magic on the chance that he could bring Merlin back. He had never considered anything too extreme for the sake of those he truly cared about.
Then there was the fact that doing nothing meant the downfall of Camelot. With or without Merlin's involvement, as king, Arthur couldn't sit by and let his kingdom die. He had never stopped to think about taking this mission because he never considered it something that needed thought about. His loyalty to country and companions defined him. A king may not have as much luxury with friends on a casual level, but if there's one thing Arthur learned in his short reign so far, it was that he could not be a successful leader without steadfast allies. His father had been wrong in that regard. People like Merlin were the reason Arthur still had his throne.
Hold on, Merlin; we're coming for you.
A sudden whirlwind in a nearby clearing caused the horses to dance sideways. Arthur only just caught sight of blonde hair and a red skirt before he was blasted once more off his mount. Unusually gritty soil met him upon landing. Strange. His sword was gone. Gaius lay only a couple feet away, staff luckily still in hand.
"Why do you insist on meddling in powers you know nothing about?" Morgause's sharp voice lashed out as she stalked toward them. The rain began to pick up considerably, though it didn't seem to touch her.
Arthur swiped blood and water from his left eye, where it had trickled down from his hairline. "This is no longer your world, witch, or your damned sister's. We defeated you once, and we'll do it again."
"Ha! Then you're even more stupid than Morgana thought. How do you plan on accomplishing that without your pet warlock?" Morgause lifted the both Arthur and Gaius and slammed them down some ten feet further back. Rough, loose dirt filtered down Arthur's collar. Spikes of pain radiated from his left elbow quite apart from the gashes just below it. In the back of his mind, he realized Merlin's presence was fading despite the magic at work. The witch smirked. "You feel it, don't you? How he's slipping away from you. And when he finally gives in, my triumphant sister will rule unopposed over both worlds. So I'll say again, what could you possibly have left?"
"No!" howled Arthur. In that same moment, a white beam soared over his head, and crashed into the apparition. Morgause screamed as she dissolved into the rain. Arthur flailed wildly in what he realized was coarse sand, looking for the source of this new magic. Gaius was only beginning to regain his own bearings. This time the staff lay some distance away from them both.
A pale figure approached from across the little beach, mildly glowing in the grey evening. She had long, dark hair, a white gown, and quite apart from everything else they had encountered on this mission, possessed no air of menace. All the same, Arthur scrambled for the knife hidden in his boot. The figure stopped, putting up a slim hand.
"I'm not here to harm you, Arthur Pendragon. This is still my domain, unlike the shades you have been fighting. Merlin brought me here long ago, when I was dying, and Avalon charged me with protecting this sacred place."
"M-Merlin? You knew Merlin?" stammered Arthur. He rose unsteadily to help Gaius, yet was not willing to turn his back on the stranger. The physician was equally soaked through and covered in sand. "Explain yourself!"
The girl smiled. "There is so much more to him than you realize, even now. He risked everything to save me when no one else would. This time I can help him…and you."
"Forgive me if recent events still leave me suspicious. Who exactly are you?"
Surprisingly, Gaius elbowed him. "The Lady of the Lake…" he explained wearily. "Keeper of the way to Avalon itself. It was foretold that Emrys would imbue an emissary of sorts to the realm of the spirits. I didn't realize it had already come to pass."
"Merlin knew me as Freya, for the short time we had together," explained the girl. Even as a spirit, her blushing demeanor spoke volumes.
"You mean he—you—he actually—" Arthur didn't know how many more revelations about Merlin he could take. If they managed to drag the unruly servant back into this world, he was going to be explaining until they were grey around the ears. But this did speak to why Merlin acted so oddly on the subject of love. Why he was so adamant about Arthur's own love for Gwen.
"There's not much time. At this moment, Morgana is mustering her next attack. I can help hold her off while you complete the spell." Freya looked steadily at each of them. "Merlin spoke highly of both of you, of his belief in Albion. And I believe in him."
Arthur tipped her a curt nod. "Maybe we'll actually stand a chance now. Gaius, are you ready?"
"I need the book in my saddle bag, Sire. And the vial wrapped in cloth, the one not in my medicine satchel." The old physician was still recovering from being thrown around, though he seemed largely unhurt.
"I'll get it. Freya, you stay with him, keep him safe. The horses aren't far." Arthur took off for the tree line, praying that was still true.
A/N: I know, cheesy fluff moment between Arthur and Gaius, but it occurred to me that it had to hit Arthur at some point-why was he jumping so readily into this? And it had to be acknowledged that he would undoubtedly carry some guilt for not being able to save Merlin the first time. I really struggled with where to put it. At least it adds length to the journey, which I was afraid would sound rushed. As always (I know I forget to actually say it), reviews much appreciated!
Oh, and congrats to Colin for his well-deserved win at the NTAs!