Author's notes: Again I would like to thank people who wrote reviews and who are following my story. I have to mention the guests who took the time to review my story, as I cannot reply to your reviews. I am very happy that readers are enjoying what I have written. Believe me, reviews lift my spirits and spur me to continue writing.
Chapter Three
The End of The Beginning
It was testament to Arthur and Merlin's exhaustion and Sir Percival's tracking skills, that the knight was able to steal upon the pair, soon after dawn.
He took some seconds to watch them sleeping side-by-side, a smile hovering on his face. It was hard to imagine one without the other. There had been a few occasions in his life when he had felt an almost similar bond; first with Lancelot and then with Gwaine, but both men had been cruelly snatched away at the hands of Morgana, and the gods knew where the witch was now. Thankfully, he'd reached The King and Merlin before she had time to do any more damage, but she could show up soon. There was no time to lose, so he knelt and gently shook them awake.
"Sire! Merlin!" he called, with joy in his heart when both stirred. "My Lord, it's good to see you are recovered. From Gaius' tale, we weren't sure you would survive, though we hoped Merlin would be able to save you."
Arthur struggled to untangle himself from his heavy cloak. It took him a few minutes to find the strength to sit up. "Percival!" he said, grabbing the knight's arm, and clasping it as heartily as he could manage. "I'm glad you found us. I'm not sure I even knew you were looking for us, but it is good to see you. Not sure I'm totally recovered, either," he added with a wheeze, holding his other arm across his chest. There was that oppressive feeling again!
"You are still alive, Sire, and that's what counts," Percival said, grinning.
"Thanks to Merlin here," Arthur added, giving the sleeping warlock a nudge in the ribs. "Come on, sleepyhead, wake up. We've been rescued. How many of the knights are with you?" He directed his last question at Percival, which sadly ended with a cough, so he didn't mark the grimace that crossed the tall knight's face.
Merlin, however, did notice, the servant always more alert on waking than his king. "Are you alone, Percival?"
"Sadly, yes. We ran into Morgana and her men, and..." A shimmer of tears glazed Percival's eyes, his emotions always softer than his muscular body. "And Gwaine perished at her hands. She tortured him to death, to discover your whereabouts, Sire. Which is why we have to leave here. She is headed for Avalon, and she is still powerful. I'm not sure we can protect you, Arthur."
Both men on the ground blanched visibly, though it was Arthur who spoke first.
"Gwaine! Dead? That courageous, impetuous, crazy knight gone? What horrors have my sister and her allies visited on this land," he ground out between his teeth. "And for some I must carry the blame... But you are wrong, Percival. Morgana has done her worst. Merlin killed her. With Excalibur, since I was in no state to wield it. It seems a High Priestess can only be killed by a sword forged in a dragon's breath, and such is Excalibur, though I never knew. There was much I did not know, but that can be addressed when we get back home."
At last, Arthur was aware of the man trembling by his side. "Merlin? What's wrong?" he asked kindly. "It is all right to weep, Merlin. I was wrong, all these years ago. Some men are worth crying for." His voice was a little less wheezy, though he too swiped a hand across his eyes. Yet very quickly the friend gave way to the king, who would always shoulder his responsibilities, regardless how heavy was his heart. "But Percival is right, we have to start for Camelot, and since we only have one horse between us, it's going to take ages to reach safety."
Arthur struggled to his feet, and was grateful when Percival took his arm.
"Sire, I found your horses back in the woods, while I was tracking Morgana. I assumed she must have spooked them, but they are here now and ready to be ridden."
"Good man!" Arthur was stretching the aches and pains from his body, but being cautious not to strain his ribcage. "I can't say I was looking forward to the march."
"You didn't find her body?" Merlin asked, uncharacteristically sharp. His heart ached at the news of Gwaine's death, but the fact that there was no body scared him. "We were trying to get to Avalon on time, so we didn't hang around to bury her. Where could her body have gone?"
Percival shrugged. "I wasn't looking for a body, I was just following a trail, which I suddenly lost. It was while I was searching for more signs that I came across the horses. I recognised them as yours, but I had no idea what could have happened to you. My fear was that Morgana had found you, but I knew you were headed for Avalon, so I decided to come straight here. Believe me, I was hugely relieved when I saw you."
Looking up at the brightening sky, Merlin assumed a fair day ahead, a decent day for a search. "Arthur, I know you're anxious to reach Camelot and Gwen, but we have to retrace our steps," he advised, his voice edged with stress.
"You think she was still alive when we left her?" Arthur's face turned pale, and he leant more heavily on Percival's arm.
"No." Merlin didn't hesitate in replying. "I felt the life leave her body..."
"But you think someone might have found her?" Arthur asked again.
"Who? The Saxons?" Percival suggested, helpfully. There was clearly some tension regarding Morgana's fate, which he didn't understand completely, but he was willing to prompt the conversation.
The young warlock shook his head. "I'd be happy if it were the Saxons. They would probably just bury her."
"Then the Druids?" Arthur cut in quickly, his blue eyes catching Merlin's gaze. "But I have no quarrel with the Druids. I made my peace with them long ago. Wouldn't they just bury her too?"
"Not all the Druids accepted your terms, Arthur." Merlin held his friend's stare with sympathy, while the knight between them glanced back and forth, totally mystified.
"True! Ruadan, Kara, and not to mention Mordred, though we do know they are all dead, don't we?" Arthur lifted his hand toward Merlin in an almost pleading gesture, seeking reassurance. Feeling weak didn't sit well with him.
"They are, Arthur. I found Mordred's body on the battlefield close by you."
"We fought, though it wasn't much of a fight, he wounded me and I killed him. How I wish it hadn't come to that, but there is nothing I can do to change the past." Arthur ground the knuckles of his free hand into his eyes, silent for a moment, thinking. "I suppose there are others out there with similar agendas." Finally, he asked, bleakly. "Could the Druids resurrect Morgana?"
There was a swift intake of breath from Percival, but neither Arthur nor Merlin acknowledged him, so intensely were they focused on their conversation.
"I'm not sure!" Merlin admitted. "I'm not wholly conversant with the powers of a High Priestess, but the Druids have used The Cup of Life to revive people, in the past."
"And we don't know where that went, after it disappeared from Camelot," Arthur added, somewhat bemused. "Along with Morgana and Morgause."
"But they couldn't have taken it, surely," Percival, at last, felt confident enough to comment. He'd only just arrived in Camelot when Arthur had retaken the city from Morgana and her sister, but he remembered the consternation, which had upgraded to almost panic, when neither the pair nor The Cup of Life could be found in the rubble. "If they'd had The Cup, wouldn't they have used it to heal Morgause? I never knew either one, but from what I've learned since, they had enough magic."
"That's why we have to look for Morgana's body," Merlin said, taking control. "It's probably paranoia, but I'd feel better knowing she was gone for good."
"I agree," Arthur nodded his head with resolve. To tell the truth, he would much rather be riding for home, for the safety of Camelot, for the care of Gaius and for the warmth of Guinevere's arms. Yet, Morgana had been his nemesis for too many years, he needed to know for certain what had been her fate. "And the sooner we get started the sooner we can clear up the mystery and go home."
"True, but I think we need to eat something first. You… I mean we, will be more able if we have breakfast."
"Merlin, stop nagging. I'm fine." Arthur tried to be optimistic about his condition, but failed miserably when he started coughing again.
"No, you're not!" Merlin folded his arms and stared Arthur down.
"Sire, I know it's not my place, but I'm backing Merlin here," Percival added, looking embarrassed. "A couple of days ago you were seriously injured, and you still don't look too fit. Perhaps food would be a good idea." Actually, Percival thought that eating would give Arthur more time to rest and calm down before they set off, and that had to be preferable to racing away like a set of demented banshees. "I have provisions with me, bread and cheese, some ale. I'm presuming you haven't eaten properly since you lost your horses?"
"Not unless you count Merlin's vegetable stew, which wasn't bad, surprisingly. But, you're both right," Arthur admitted with some reluctance. "We'll eat first... quickly. I don't want to waste too much time."
The sun had risen fully, by the time the trio were ready to leave. Merlin watched closely as Arthur moved to mount his horse. The King had allowed Merlin and Percival to ready the horses, but that was no gauge of Arthur's fitness; being King, he often left the preparations to others, though mostly when he was back in Camelot. With his closest knights, he liked to drop the protocol and be one of the group. He did douse the fire without too much difficulty, but as he paused before his horse, he accepted Percival's offer of a 'leg up' with compliance.
It made Merlin smile, poignantly, remembering a time when Arthur had used Merlin's back as a mounting block. Probably he'd annoyed Arthur somehow, and the royal prat had been making a point. Not that he'd enjoyed being stood on, but he'd gladly return to those times to see Arthur healthy and full of vigour again.
Once Arthur was settled in the saddle, he seemed to revive somewhat, mayhap feeling again he was in charge. He gave the order to move out.
They were soon heading back towards the forest where they had encountered Morgana, Arthur keeping up a steady pace, though not pushing the horses, or himself too hard. If only Arthur could accept that his strength had limitations, then life might not be too difficult, Merlin thought.
However, Merlin was soon to discover that life was never that easy. It was lunch time before they finally reached the spot where Morgana had perished. They made camp a short distance away, deciding to finish off the rest of the bread and cheese before starting the search. Directly the modest meal was over, Arthur sent Percival off hunting for their supper, while he tried to make himself more comfortable on the ground, not with great success.
"Merlin," Arthur rasped, his breathing once again causing him pain. "For a powerful sorcerer, I've got to complain of your healing skills. I still feel as weak as a kitten."
"Warlock. I prefer to be called Warlock," Merlin huffed, his brain going into overdrive. It seemed the truth would need to be told sooner than he'd hoped; without a comfortable bed for Arthur, or Gwen's comforting presence. Maybe he could prevaricate for a time. "I'm sorry, Arthur, but you were critically injured. No amount of magic can heal that instantly. Your body will take time to recover, naturally."
"All right. I can accept a bit of fragility, but this seems worse than that."
Of course, this was Arthur! Stubborn, determined, wonderful idiot that he was, and he wasn't about to be put off with platitudes.
"There's a pain," he continued, with as much nonchalance as he could muster. "Like I still have a sword stuck in my chest."
So no prevarication either. Merlin heaved a sigh, praying Arthur would accept his prognosis. He had to sound as positive as possible.
"You feel like that because you do. To be accurate, you have a shard of Mordred's sword embedded in your chest, and I'm sorry, it was a sword forged in a dragon's breath. No matter how powerful I am, there is no way I can remove it, nor could Kilgarrah." Merlin almost bit his tongue. How could he have been stupid enough to mention the dragon?
"Great! That's great," Arthur squeaked, so clearly taken aback by this news, that the name Kilgarrah didn't sink in. "And you can't withdraw it?" There was a long moment of silence. "What about Gaius? Could he cut it out when we get back to Camelot?"
"I'm sorry, Arthur, but no. We would have taken you back to Camelot straight away, had that been possible. The blade is a magic one, and it's also too close to your heart to remove surgically."
"So neither you nor Gaius can rid me of this... shard?"
"Arthur, it's why I was taking you to Avalon, to use Sidhe magic to save you."
"And these Sidhe were the ones who cured me?" Again silence stretched between the friends, Merlin hoping that this interrogation would end for now, and Arthur wondering...
"Just what did you promise these Sidhe to mend me?"
"Nothing!" Merlin cried, blind-sided by that unexpected question. "You owe nothing to anyone."
"So these magic people just healed me out of the goodness of their hearts?"
Merlin was sad that Arthur still sounded sceptical. Hadn't they got past that stage. "Arthur, I thought we'd already established that not all people of magic are evil or mercenary," he said, unable to hide his hurt.
Another painful silence occurred, until finally Arthur spoke. "Sorry, Merlin. You're right, of course. I guess getting rid of the habits of a lifetime isn't as easy as I thought. If these Sidhe did so much for me, then I must repay them, if it's just offering the freedom to live their lives in peace."
"No!" Merlin shouted.
"No?" Arthur's spine stiffened, taken unawares by Merlin's vehemence.
"In truth, the Sidhe aren't all that good. Arthur, my friend, there is much for you to learn about magic. Who you can trust, and who you need to beware, and the Sidhe are such a people."
Looking totally mystified, Arthur questioned slowly, "Then you coerced them into helping me, because you are more powerful... but if that's the truth, why can't you heal me and they can?"
A wry grin crossed Merlin's face. "Arthur, have patience. I know that's difficult for you. Magic isn't straightforward, and I will teach you all you need to know, in time. But forget the Sidhe for now. To tell the truth, we never reached them."
"We didn't? Then who helped you cure me, since it seems you couldn't heal me alone?"
"Kilgarrah."
"Who is Kilgarrah? Some other sorc... warlock you want me to meet."
"Not exactly." Merlin winced as he admitted at last. "Kilgarrah is otherwise known as The Great Dragon."
Aghast, Arthur backed away. "The same dragon that my father held prisoner beneath Camelot? The same one that almost destroyed our home?"
Reaching his hands out to stop Arthur's scuttling away, Merlin replied, "Yes. But he was angry then. Enraged by the cruel treatment he'd received at Uther's hands, and the fact that your father had killed all his kind... and he didn't have a dragonlord to control his base instincts."
"That's why we looked for Balinor. But Balinor died. Just as you told me I had slain the dragon." Arthur joined the pieces of the puzzle in his mind, while Merlin watched in dread. "Now it appears the dragon was never dead, and you seem to be great friends with Kilgarrah!" The emphasis he placed on his last statement proved The King was not amused. "Do you want to explain that, Merlin?"
Merlin's shoulders drooped. There was no going back. "Balinor was my father, though I never knew till Gaius sent us to look for him. When a dragonlord dies, his gift passes to his son, which meant I could control the dragon. That night in the glade, when you were unconscious, I spoke to Kilgarrah, ordered him to desist. He promised he would never attack Camelot again, or any of mankind, and he flew off. I wanted to tell you, but I couldn't. Uther would have had me executed."
Rage leached out of Arthur like water through a sieve. He knew he should still be angered at all those deaths so many years ago, yet there had been tit-for-tat killings enough, and sympathy for his friend's suffering overrode all other emotions.
"I'm sorry, Merlin." He moved closer and squeezed the younger man's shoulder. "You found and lost your father in the space of a day. I didn't know. I always felt Balinor was a good man. Another good man wronged by my father... When I think how he ruined your life and your family's, I'm surprised you have anything to do with me."
"Arthur, you said we can't dwell in the past. It's been a very long time since I regretted being your servant, and I have never been sorry to call you friend. And maybe I'm crazy, but I feel Balinor is still with me." Merlin was transported back to the Crystal Cave only a few days ago and his meeting with his father's spirit. He'd believed every word they'd shared... that he would never be alone.
"What's wrong with crazy? I feel like I'm living some kind of dream," Arthur admitted with a small smile. "I should be dead, if it weren't for this dragon of yours. I'm assuming, since you're on first name terms with the dragon, that you've met up with him often."
"Now and then. Even when Kilgarrah was still a prisoner in Camelot, he was helping me defend you." Merlin laughed aloud, recalling his arrival in Camelot. "It was he who told me that it was my destiny to protect you. You and I had just met, and it was animosity at first sight, but Kilgarrah knew better. He also warned me about Morgana turning against us. At first, I wouldn't believe him, and it hurt to slowly realise that he was right. I can't say he never said 'I told you so', he's not that kind of dragon, but he has been helping me fight against Morgana and Mordred ever since."
"Then, if he's done so much for me and Camelot, I should thank him, particularly for my life. How does this work? Can you summon him, since you're a dragonlord?"
Tears welled in Merlin's eyes again. "Once I could, but no more."
"Saving me was his final act of support for my kingdom?" Arthur sounded more disappointed than mad. "I understand, and I don't blame him. Having lost all his kin at my father's hand, I could hardly expect him to stick around for a chat."
"Saving you was his final act, ever." Merlin wiped the tears that threatened to overflow. He was turning into a well! "Dragon's live for over a thousand years, but Kilgarrah had finally reached the end of his span. He was already very frail when I called him, loaning you his strength took all he had left. When he managed to fly away, I knew it was to die..."
"He gave his life for me?" Arthur asked with awe. "Why would he do that?"
Clearly, Arthur was shaken, as his blue eyes flooded with tears. This time it was Merlin who comforted The King.
"Because he believed in the Albion we would create together. A land where magic would be recognised for a force for good, not only for evil."
With eyes still misted with tears and a smile that came straight from his heart, so sincere that it drew all people who saw it to his side, Arthur made his vow. "Then a toast, to a future United Albion, where all people and sentient beings shall live in peace, prosperity and justice." He lifted his beaker of water and he and Merlin toasted the future.
"I'll drink to that," Percival said, striding back into the camp site, throwing a couple of rabbits down by the fire. "And hunting is thirsty work."
Merlin quickly poured the knight a cup of water, which Percival lifted high towards The King. "To Camelot and Albion."
Arthur and Merlin acknowledged the toast, then watched in amazement as Percival downed three lots of water. Still, he was a very big man. The Warlock made a note to replenish their water supply before evening, while, inwardly, thanking Percival's reappearance, which successfully postponed, again, the discussion on Arthur's health. For the greatest warlock ever, he really was a terrible coward, but, to tell the truth, he didn't want to dispel this close sense of amity between himself and Arthur
The rest of the afternoon was spent searching for Morgana's corpse and, though Arthur did take part, Merlin stayed close to him to make sure he rested frequently. Thankfully, Percival had searched in the direction he'd gone while hunting, so it slightly narrowed the field. He also covered more ground than King and Warlock together. However, Merlin did have his secret weapon, and scoured the land around them with magic, still surreptitiously, unsure how Percival would react to a confession of sorcery.
All their toil was to no avail. Morgana's body was gone, but how or why they couldn't discover. It was as if she had disappeared into the very fabric of the world, and neither one was happy with that state of affairs.
Around the camp fire, that night, as they enjoyed their spit roasted rabbit, one of Merlin's dilemmas was addressed from an unexpected direction.
"So, we can conclude that someone or something spirited my sister's body away, or she might have come back to life?" Arthur mused, then flummoxed Merlin by asking directly, "And your magic can't define which?"
"My magic?" Merlin's voice rose almost off the scale, while sending Arthur a telling look.
"Yes, Merlin." Arthur returned his stare steadily, clearly feeling that he had the right to 'out' his friend "The magic you've been using to protect Camelot and everyone who belongs therein. If you're worried about what Percival thinks, I'm sure your concerns are unfounded. Sir Percival has always struck me as a very reasonable man, and if his king acknowledges and accepts your gifts, then Percival will too. Won't you?"
Two pairs of eyes swung towards the knight, one almost pleading, the other slightly defiant.
"Sire?" Percival glanced from one to the other, then back to Arthur. He had no idea what was going on, but guessed he was on the verge of hearing some life-altering information. "Someone has magic?"
A roughish grin lit Arthur's face, and set Merlin to counting the many different smiles Arthur had stocked in his larder, and deciding, at present, this wasn't a favourite.
"Oh, yes, Merlin here is a sorcerer... no, that's incorrect. He prefers to be called a warlock." The King was having some fun at his servant's expense, but it wasn't hard to hide the fact that he was beginning to be proud of Merlin's achievements, too. "The old man on the battlefield with his lightning bolts was Merlin, so, technically, it was he who won the battle."
"That's definitely false," Merlin declared, hunching his shoulders in embarrassment. "I admit I helped, but each one in Camelot's army did their part. We all used our respective gifts to defeat the Saxon, and I'd hoped Morgana, but, after what we didn't find today, perhaps the latter assumption is wrong."
A dumbfounded Percival, who was processing what he'd heard, missed Merlin's words about the lack of Morgana's body, and concentrated only on verification of The King's statement.
"Merlin is a warlock?"
"Keep up, Percival," Arthur said, with only a little hint of exasperation. "I've already told you Merlin has magic. In fact, very powerful magic. Now, I know that is hard to believe, but it is true. He's been hiding his talents for years. He and I have discussed his reasons, and while I'm not totally comfortable that he didn't trust me with the truth, I do understand why."
Arthur took a deep breath, which caught in his throat, but he thumped his chest, which caused Merlin to flinch. Arthur really ought not to do that. Finally, The King coughed and continued, hoarsely. "Percival, I'm not sure how you view magic, but Merlin is my friend, a friend to all in Camelot, in fact, and I ask you to accept him as such."
"Sire, I'm a plain speaking man, and, to be honest, I've never given sorcery much thought, apart from my revulsion at all the Lady Morgana has done to you and yours." Percival's eyes narrowed, as if reliving Gwaine's last moments. "I've always held Merlin in high esteem, and, personally, I don't care if he's the mightiest sorcerer ever to walk the earth, because I trust him."
King and Warlock smiled at Percival's simple acknowledgement.
"You've actually got it right, Percival. It seems Merlin is the most powerful warlock ever, and I'm just glad he's on our side."
"Thank you, Percival." Merlin blushed and offered his hand to Percival. The knight's firm handshake gladdened his heart.
"I wish the rest of my court will recognise Merlin the Warlock with as much goodwill. I fear it will not be so easy, but it's good to know we can rely on you, Percival. If the knights stand with us, I'm sure we can win over the hearts and minds of the people." Again Arthur coughed, a dry racking bark, and, once more there was silence. This time it was Merlin and Percival who exchanged worried glances. "Unfortunately, I'm not convinced the councillors and nobles will approve so readily. Well, they will have to learn to like it, because I am adamant. The time for sweeping, senseless acts of retribution is over."
"Sire, I know many of the knights will follow wherever you lead," Percival said, with a dip of his head. "And as you've just destroyed the Saxons and Morgana, I'm sure the citizens of Camelot will be ready to accept whatever you tell them."
"We all defeated our enemy," Arthur replied somewhat humbly. "But I hope you're right. Now, if you forgive me, this has been a long day, and I'm tired. Dying takes it out of you, you know. I need to sleep."
"Wait, Arthur!" Merlin scrambled towards his saddle bag and drew out a small bottle containing a little of the tincture Kilgarrah had taught him and which he'd managed to find time to perfect earlier. "I have a potion here that will help you rest. Might even sooth that cough you've got from sleeping on the cold ground."
Arthur grimaced. "Do I have to?"
"Don't be so gormless, Arthur!" Merlin once more reversed their roles. He watched as his friend downed the medicine, then lay back on his blanket. "I think tomorrow we should head for Camelot. We can send out bigger patrols to scour the countryside for Morgana's remains."
"I agree. I can't wait to get back to Guinevere." Arthur smiled and settled to sleep very quickly, looking a little paler than he had earlier in the day.
Back at the fire, the other two sat in companionable silence, till Arthur's gentle snores invaded the darkness. Percival sat up straighter and, tentatively, asked. "That cough isn't from a cold?"
Another long silence stretched on and on, while Percival squirmed where he sat. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't..."
"No, Percival. You are only worried for a friend, but I do need to talk to Arthur first, and I'd rather have that conversation back in Camelot, with Guinevere at Arthur's side." Merlin pondered for a couple of moments, then finally decided he could tell Percival a little of the truth. "But there is some cause for concern, and I need you to help me keep an eye on Arthur. Make sure he doesn't overtax his strength on this journey."
This time it was Percival who took some seconds to answer, and his answer proved there was more to the large knight than a plain talking man. "Perhaps we could play up that cough as Arthur having caught a cold. I mean, you did say he almost died."
A slow smile spread across Merlin's face. "You are devious, Percival. I'd rather not lie to Arthur again, but if it will make our journey easier, then a little misdirection might be preferable."
"You're pretty skilled at that, Merlin, especially where Arthur is concerned. But The King's correct. We should get some sleep, if we want to make it back to Camelot by tomorrow nightfall."
"If we're to do that, won't we have to travel fast?" Merlin enquired, looking anxious. "I'm not sure that would be best for Arthur."
Percival's large shoulders lifted. "Probably not, but I doubt Arthur will give you a choice. He wants to be home!"
The knight's words were reinforced as a muffled murmur from The King reached their ears. Even said quietly, there was no mistaking the longing in the whispered...
"Guinevere!"
Once again, I would love to hear what you think of this last chapter. Arthur and Merlin are no longer alone, and I hope you think I wrote Percival in character. I always thought we knew less about Percival than the other knights, so I thought I would give him a part in my story. I'm sorry if readers were expecting Gwaine, as I know he was a very popular character in the show. However, having resurrected Arthur, I felt that bringing back Gwaine from the dead also would have been a step too far. I apologise to all Gwaine fans. I look forward to reading your reviews.