Hey everyone!
I am so sorry for the long wait (I know, again :( :( :(). I've had tons of work and I went to New Zealand (yaaaaaaaaaay!) during my two-week holiday (it was way too short!)! Is anyone here from New Zealand or living there? :) :) :)
I came back on Sunday and I did my best to write this chapter as quickly and well as I could! I hope you'll like it, and tell me about it by leaving a review!
Special thanks to Mirlasse! I was overjoyed when I got your first review, and I just kept hitting the 'refresh' button to follow your reading of the story! I am so happy that you like this fic (I'll try to add in some Doctor when I get the opportunity xD)! I hope that the wait wasn't too long!
Thanks to the followers/favorite-rs and Nataly SkyPot, fastreader12, Sparky199 and TobiasBoon (this chapter is more of a reunion and preparation one, but you'll get tons of action in the next chapter, which will hopefully be up shortly! ;)) for the reviews! I hope you enjoy!
Allons-y !
The three royals, and the ex-knight-recently-converted-bodyguard, appeared just outside the Semlohians' camp at dusk. Thankfully, no one noticed their arrival – they could have been taken for spies, lurking around the camp in the dying light of the day-. The camp was buzzing with restlessness as the men ran about, making the final preparations before resting for a last night.
Sherlock inwardly smiled at the thought of the enormous relief his brother was going to feel when he saw Merlin; he felt abnormally excited at the prospect of seeing Mycroft happy.
He shook himself out of his thoughts and looked at his companions. John stood next to him, expertly looking over the camp. Arthur was gaping at his surroundings, amazed by the bit of magic his ex-manservant-recently-discovered-to-be-a-Prince had just performed to transport them. Talking about his brother… Sherlock turned around to look at him. Merlin was pale, biting his lip anxiously, but was at the same time bouncing with happiness. He felt his gaze and made eye contact with him. It was time.
As he walked down to the camp, Merlin could not help but think about the upcoming reunion. Would he recognize his brother? Would he be welcomed by all? How would the war end? Semloh's forces looked terribly few compared to Camelot's. And now that all of Essetir was also under Morgana and Moriarty's control, their chances looked grim. He did not want anybody to get hurt, and he knew that that was impossible. Even with the support of the druids and Kilgharrah, there would be casualties. The most terrible aspect is that they would have to fight against family, friends, people who had no control over their actions. What would he do if he was confronted to Gwaine, or Lancelot, of Percival? They needed to find Morgana quickly, and to make her lose her control over the army. But he had no idea as to where she was, and he knew that she would have powerful and trained sorcerers protecting her back. He also did not know how to counter the possession spell, and did not want to risk harming his friends – for all he knew, breaking the possession by force could well kill them through the link to their minds. He needed to talk to Gaius and Iseldir.
He emerged from his dark thoughts as they entered the camp. Soldiers were milling about, polishing weapons and talking to each other in anticipation. They barely glanced at them as they crossed the camp. At some point, he saw sorcerers training, practising their spell work against each other. He let himself imagine how it would feel now to be able to openly use magic. This would be possible here with the Semlohians. Perhaps it would even change in Camelot now that Arthur had accepted it. But first, they needed to stop Morgana and Moriarty.
He was jolted out of his musings when he nearly crashed into Sherlock, who had stopped in front of a huge blue tent. His brother's.
He took a long breath before following Sherlock in.
Mycroft was rubbing his temples, sighing as he thought about the upcoming battle. Their chances looked quite slim in front of the huge army that Moriarty was building, the united forces of two kingdoms, Essetir and Camelot. And to the stress of the battle was added personal anxiety: since Hunith had come, he had let himself believe his little brother was still alive, but what if he was indeed…dead? He sighed again, and leant against the backrest of the wooden chair he was sitting on.
After a few minutes, he got up to go check on his troops. Before he could, the tent's lid was drawn back and someone entered.
"Sherlock?"
He let out a relieved smile. He had been heading for Essetir to free his brother, but there he was, unarmed. His brother nodded at him, a small smile etched on his face. Mycroft closed his eyes for an instant.
Just like his brothers, he had special "abilities" that almost no-one knew of. The one he used most was entering the mind of someone in front of him and looking inside it. This took him less time than a blink. He deemed his ability as a very fine power for a King as he could judge and analyse people extremely fairly. Sherlock was the only one that could block him – much to Mycroft's frustration-, but he sometimes let him look inside his thoughts, when he did not want or did not have time to explain something aloud. Mycroft knew that that was one of those moments. A quick prod at his brother's consciousness and he was in.
Sherlock had prepared a layout of instants he wanted to show him, as he usually did. Most people had a fuzzy and untidy mind, but Sherlock could organize his extremely well – not that Mycroft would ever tell him-. He dived into his brother's memories of the past week. The first scene was his arrival in Camelot. Mycroft experienced the assault of the "black tendrils", which looked like the ones he had just seen spreading in the sky over Essetir. Next was his meeting of Morgana and Moriarty – he nearly tried to punch the man that had robbed him of his father and brother, in a very un-Mycroft-y manner, but remembered that it was only a memory-. He then saw Sherlock riding alone towards Essetir, and nearly smiled when he felt his brother's irritation directed towards him. The last instant showed a man riding at breakneck speed towards druids, supporting an unconscious blond-haired man, who was none other than the King of Camelot, Arthur Pendragon.
Mycroft emerged from Sherlock's memories in a blur, feeling like Sherlock had hidden something important. He glared at him, but his brother just shrugged with a mischievous grin.
The fair-haired man from Sherlock's memories, an ex-knight of Essetir if his assumptions were correct, entered the tent. He did not scan his memories as he saw that King Arthur was next.
"Good evening, King Mycroft. I am pleased to meet you at last."
King Arthur's voice was a bit rough, but that was to be expected with the deadly injuries he had seen in Sherlock's memories. Mycroft stretched his arm to greet his homologue in a knightly manner.
"So am I, your Highness. I am pleased to see you well. Are you…"
He did not finish his sentence. While he had been welcoming the King, someone else had entered the tent. Someone with a raven mop of unruly hair and deep blue eyes.
Mycroft swayed, and was only prevented from collapsing by King Arthur's grip on his forearm.
"Merlin?" He whispered. Th-this had to be a trick from Moriarty, there was no way Merlin could be…
"Micky!"
A second later, he felt himself being engulfed in a hug, which he readily returned. His littlest brother was there, alive and well. Mycroft let down his mental barriers and let himself cry freely for the first time in years. Merlin was back.
He let his powers touch his brother's consciousness and closed his eyes. He nearly jumped when he felt Merlin's magical powers, which energetically swirled in his entire being – they had grown a thousand fold since he had last seen him. He had never felt that level of concentration before, and felt immensely proud of his brother, as he sensed that he was innocently caring and kind, uncorrupted by such tremendous power.
He distantly heard the ex-Essetir knight and Arthur leave the tent, and Sherlock sit down on his table, mixing up the neatly ordered paperwork.
His two brothers were here.
He closed his eyes and grinned.
John had left the tent, taking along King Arthur, who had been standing there, smiling -quite dumbly-. He felt the three brothers would want some time to talk. Arthur and he had to start preparing the troops. They had a war to win in the next morning, after all.
The two men walked around the camp, helping out the soldiers to sharpen their weapons or build fire camps for the night. Some knights recognized King Arthur and greeted him, surprised and glad to see him well and out of Moriarty's clutches. John asked them not to spread the news of his presence yet, as he felt that, if King Mycroft was anything like his brother, he would enjoy announcing the arrival of his brother and the foreign King himself.
The camp was well organized, and the soldiers were quick and effective; everyone knew each other by name and had a specific task for the night. The sorcerers worked harmoniously alongside the soldiers, much to the King's astonishment. Arthur jumped a few times when spells were being used, but after a while, he just shrugged his surprise away and let himself grinned. This was the beginning of a new era in Albion. That is, if Moriarty and Morgana did not win the battle.
He was shaken out of his troubled thoughts when a woman called his name.
He turned around and grinned.
"Hunith!"
Arthur seemingly knew her and stopped her when she started to bow to him. John laughed before whispering to her.
"Merlin is here, safe and well."
Hunith's stance relaxed enormously at his words, and she smiled at him.
"He is speaking with his brothers at the moment. They are in King Mycroft's tent."
She nodded before answering.
"I am going to see him. Thank you so much for saving Arthur and him."
Hunith waited a little outside the tent, as she heard Merlin, Sherlock and Mycroft talking. She smiled at the pure joy emitting from their voices. After a few more minutes, Sherlock came out, followed by Merlin.
"Mother!"
Merlin ran at her and hugged her tightly.
"I've missed you so much. What are you doing here? Oh, you went to Semloh to warn Mycroft, didn't you? You could have gotten hurt on the way. What if you had been hurt? I wouldn't have known!"
She kissed his cheek.
"You were in danger and I could help."
Merlin had been about to introduce his mother to Mycroft when a knight entered the tent. Sherlock smiled a little, and Merlin assumed the knight was Sir Lestrade, the only one his brother had talked about. His assumptions were proven right by Mycroft's greeting.
"Sir Lestrade. What is it?"
The head knight blurted out.
"The scouts, Your Highness. Only one has come back. Moriarty's forces are less than an hour away from here."
Mycroft looked gravely at Arthur, Sherlock and him.
"I am going to announce your arrival to the troops and get them ready for battle."
"I will mindspeak with Iseldir." Merlin added. "The druids should get here in less than ten minutes."
Sir Lestrade, who hadn't noticed him, frowned.
"Who are you? You remind me of someone…"
"Merlin!"
"…What?!"
Merlin flashed him a grin and ran out of the tent to contact the druids.
A few minutes later, the druids and Gaius teleported in a very confused but excited Semlohian camp. The troops had been overjoyed at seeing their Lost Prince again, and everyone had tried to speak to Merlin ever since. He was feeling very awkward with all the attention turned on him. As soon as the druids arrived, he readily excused himself and went to welcome them. He tried to speak to Gaius and Iseldir about the possession, but he did not get the time as Mycroft summoned everyone into his tent. They all sat down and started to quickly design tactics.
"We will fight from here, as we have the advantage of standing on the highest point of the plains." Announced Mycroft.
Iseldir nodded.
"We will put up shields around the camp. There are some that can only allow allies in. We could use those and turn the camp into an infirmary and a stock of weapons."
"I will help you do that." Merlin intervened.
"No, Emrys." Iseldir answered. "You shouldn't strain your powers. We will need them for the battle."
Sherlock, Arthur and Gauis nodded, making Merlin glare at them.
Just as the druids were about to chant the spells, a soldier came running into the tent.
"Moriarty's troops. They are here."
Shouts were heard in the distance as the ground began to shake.
It had begun.
Mwahahaha! Hope you enjoyed, and review! I'll do my best to update quickly!
PS: this fic is now over 30k words! Yay!