Arthur held a council meeting early the next day. In his head, he was already preparing for battle, and he knew his words and actions over the next few hours would have a profound affect on the future of the kingdom, so he was determined to take advise from as many people as possible before he put his plans into effect. He'd even allowed Merlin to join them again, still uncomfortable, but wise enough to overcome his natural instincts. Merlin, for his part, didn't seem to be engaging much with proceedings anyway, and sat throughout with his eyes downcast, occasionally chewing nervously at the ragged skin on the edge of his right index finger.

They decided almost immediately of the need to evacuate the citadel, an almost unprecedented step.

"But I really do not see that we have any alternative," Arthur told them gravely. "Whatever this danger is that Morgana has put into action, it is here, and the people are not safe. What I need from you are ideas as to how we can achieve this with as few deaths as possible."

"Do you intend to force a battle between Camelot's troops and Morgana's men?" Gaius asked him.

"I do," he said. "This will be the primary distraction."

"She'll be expecting it," Gwaine stated. "The number of patrols we've been sending out, it's obvious we know the size and location of her army. She'd be an idiot to think that we wouldn't attack."

"Yes, but what I'm hoping is that she'll believe we attack with the direct aim of escaping," Arthur said. "I wish merely to divert her men, make them fight for the ground they hold, and hurt them enough so that instead of looking to our borders they are licking their wounds while our people are escaping."

"And what if they use magic against you, my lord?" Gaius put in. "There are three sorcerers with this army – that we know of. They may use some form of magical attack."

"They may," Arthur conceded. "But we have no method of guarding against it." His gaze passed over Merlin, who kept his eyes firmly down at the table. "We must merely hope that our forces can withstand whatever it is they throw at us."

"Can we not find a way of magically guarding against it?" Gwaine asked boldly. "I for one don't want to be turned into a chicken half way through a battle and spend the rest of my days pushing eggs out of my nethers."

"The use of magic in Camelot is expressly forbidden!" Arthur said, raising his voice a little more than was necessary. "We can not consider its use – in any circumstances." He thought he saw Merlin's face tighten out of the corner of his eye, but he ignored it.

"What then?" Lancelot piped up. "How do we get the refugees and the townspeople away? There must be eight or nine thousand people here. And we have to move them across open countryside? Where are they to go?"

"We will send them to Godwyn's kingdom," Arthur said. "The information we have suggests that the bulk of Morgana's army are to the west of Camelot. Godwyn's kingdom lies to the south, and is less than two days walk from here. He is an old friend of my father's and he will not turn our people away. I am sure of it. We will send out fast riders immediately to warn him of our approach."

"Yes, but, even under cover of darkness, the people will be dangerously exposed," Leon pointed out.

"I know," Arthur said more softly. "We will split them into groups of a few hundred, and each shall have a patrol of knights to protect them. They will be instructed to take only that which they can carry, and move as silently and as quickly as they can."

"Sire, there are many wounded from the initial attack still, who will not be able to make the journey," Gaius warned.

"Any who can not travel must take their chances here," Arthur said with a shake of his head. "The citadel will not be empty by any means, essential staff and a contingent of knights are to remain and fight the enemy when it comes."

There was a moment of silence around the table as they all thought of the hopelessness of the situation: the long trail of people making their weary away through perilous lands with little cover or protection.

"If only magic weren't forbidden and we had the means to raise a fog or something to hide all those people as they escaped," Gwaine muttered. "That would at least give them more of a chance."

Merlin raised his head for the first time, and looked at the knight pointedly. Gwaine was smiling at him, eyebrows raised, while Merlin glared dispassionately back.

Arthur looked between them, slightly bemused. And then got it. Oh great, he thought, rolling his eyes. Seriously, is there no one in this kingdom who doesn't know about Merlin's magic? It made him think back on how many times a similar scenario may have played out in front of him without him realising it. It made him feel rather foolish.

"Merlin?" he snapped.

The boy jumped, clearly on edge. Arthur was already beginning to regret his previous harsh words against magic.

"Have you and Gaius had any luck finding out more about this beast that Morgana is raising? Perhaps found a way to destroy it or even slow it down?"

"Uh, no," he stammered turning to Arthur, his face flushing slightly. "We've looked in all the ancient texts. I believe the only way this demon could be destroyed – is by a dragon."

"Well, that's small use to us," Arthur sighed.

"We will keep looking, sire," he assured him earnestly. He gave Arthur the ghost of a smile. "I'm sure there will be a way to defeat it."

Arthur found himself smiling back, though he knew the words were empty. The fact that he was even contemplating the evacuation of Camelot meant that he knew their situation was hopeless. But he knew they were all trying their best: knights, servants – even sorcerers.

"This is a dark hour," he intoned. "But we must all stay strong. For the future of the kingdom, I need you all to be brave and remain true to the ideals that we have been brought up to believe: honour, truth, friendship. With these things in our hearts, evil can never defeat us."

"What the hell were you trying to do in there?" Merlin hissed at Gwaine, pulling the knight to one side in the corridor outside the council chambers. The others were already disappearing down the corridor.

"What? I was only pointing out the obvious," Gwaine said.

"But in front of Arthur!" Merlin insisted. "He means what he says about magic, Gwaine. I've only managed to survive here this long by keeping what I am well hidden. Making comments like that in a council meeting is just asking for trouble!"

"But you didn't make them," Gwaine said, putting his hands on his arms. "I made them. And I'll keep making them, until Arthur gets it into his thick head that sometimes we need magic to help us survive. I mean, what the hell's the point in giving them an immediate advantage by having such strict and ridiculous laws against sorcery?"

"Ridiculous or not, it is the law," Merlin said. "And it's not your life on the line here, it's mine."

Gwaine's face became serious. "You're right," he said. "I'm sorry."

"How's it going to look," Merlin went on. "When a mysterious fog starts appearing as the refugees leave the castle tonight when you were talking about just the same thing in there?"

Gwaine grinned again. "You mean, you're going to do it?"

Merlin smiled back at him. "It's a good idea," he said. "Just – tell me in private next time."

"It's a deal." Gwaine slapped his arm, just as Arthur walked out into the corridor.

He looked between them with an unreadable expression. "Merlin," he said. "I'll need you to help me with my armour."

"Yes, Arthur." Merlin looked pleased. It was after all, the first time Arthur had directly asked him for help in two days. He looked back at Gwaine before walking away after the future king. The knight made a pseudo-magical gesture at him, waving his hands in the air and puffing out his cheeks as if blowing out clouds of fog.

The battle did not go well. As Gaius had predicted, Morgana threw both physical and magical force against Camelot's finest, as they attacked her men in wave after wave of horses and swords and bravery. By the time evening fell, it was clear that had darkness not been approaching, things would have gone extremely badly for Arthur's knights.

Still, the pitched battle achieved what it needed to, and the first of the refugee parties had already departed the citadel as Arthur's men were returning, weary, blood splattered, and missing over a quarter of their numbers.

Arthur raised his eyebrows at the dense fog that was sitting in the valley and spreading out along the river towards the south and west, but he was too weary to comment on it.

He'd insisted that Merlin stay in the citadel, even though his servant had been adamant that he should accompany him. They'd even managed something approaching their old banter for a short time, as Merlin had dressed him.

"But who's going to watch your back if I'm not there?"

"Almost anyone Merlin. You're useless in these situations anyway."

"I am not! It's just you're always too busy off being a hero to see what I'm really doing."

"Oh yes? And what are you really doing?"

Magic.

"Oh this and that. Saving your royal hide usually when your mind is on greater things."

Arthur had smiled at that. Yes, maybe he had been. But not on this occasion. Merlin was to stay, with strict instructions that he wanted a solution to the problem of the demon rising out of their courtyard by first thing the next morning.

The demon itself was continuing to make its presence known, and the tremors that reached out from around the area of the hole, were growing in intensity, still not yet strong enough to cause structural damage, but certainly enough to send a wave of fear through everyone when they struck. The refugees were waiting now in crowds in the various large rooms around the citadel, and they would scream as the walls shook, waiting for the end.

The sensations that hit Merlin when these tremors came were growing in intensity as well, and it was taking all his self-control not to react when he felt the shiver of darkness pass through him, from his toes to the tip of his ears. It was like having icy water streaming through his veins, tinged with a fierceness that he couldn't explain. It was almost as if he could hear screaming, a cry of terrible rage that was just out of ear shot, but coming closer and closer as each hour passed.

But the interesting thing about it was that he'd started to notice others reacting as well. The sensation would hit him, after all, several seconds before the rumbling began, and if he was out and about when it happened, then he would see servants, knights, courtiers – people in almost every sector of society betraying a level of magical awareness through their response. It was almost enough to make him smile.

However hard he tried, Uther Pendragon had failed to stamp magic from this land. There were plenty here who had survived the purge, and who were living out their days in Camelot despite the risks. It made him feel stronger, and he even felt a surge of pride, before remembering the horrors that awaited them all, magical or not.

Unless he could stop it.

He'd told Gaius of what the dragon had said at breakfast – or not all of it. He'd said that a dragon could defeat a demon, but that Kilgarah would not. He'd said also that it might be possible for him to absorb the power of a dragon, giving him the ability to defeat the demon himself, and had even admitted that it was dangerous, and that the dragon had warned him against it. What he hadn't repeated was just how dangerous it would be.

He'd gone to bed after returning to Camelot the previous night, and dreamed of uncontrollable power taking him over, and burning him from the inside out. But in his dream, he had not only burnt himself, but he'd taken Arthur and Gwen and Gaius and everyone he cared about with him. They'd all been lost in the flames before his very eyes, and he'd woken confused and frightened and reaching out, only to find himself alone in the darkness.

The fear was still in him when he came out of his room in the morning, though he tried to conceal it as he relayed the information to Gaius. After all, there was no point in worrying him. Gaius was an old man, and Merlin knew how much he cared about him. If this was going to be his death, then that's the way it had to be. He'd deal with his own fears, he didn't know if he could deal with Gaius' as well.

Unfortunately, he got the opportunity to find out when he returned from dressing Arthur for battle, to find his guardian sitting at his desk, a massive book open in front of him with extraordinarily tiny and neat words written across its yellowing pages. Gaius had his magnifying glass held over one corner, and was reading intently when Merlin came in. He looked up, anger on his face.

"What?" Merlin wondered, coming over. "What's wrong?"

Gaius laid down the glass. "You lied to me," he said quietly.

"No I didn't!" Merlin insisted automatically. "About what?"

Gaius picked up the glass again and held it over the page. He began to read. "It is thought to be the most dangerous of magical trials when a dragon lord acts to take into himself the power and essence of his dragon," he said. "So dangerous is this action, that it is thought to never have been successfully carried out. Gerraint of Ansor was the last recorded dragon lord to make the attempt. He endured but a few moments before his being was consumed by the terrible fire, and it is said that even his dragon could not bear the sound of his torment." Gaius put the glass down again angrily. "You were not truthful about the level of danger in what you had suggested."

"I was as truthful as I could be!" Merlin insisted. "You wanted me to tell you what this could mean? That I could die a horrible death? Well now you know. Does it change anything? Does it change the fact that this may be the way we can save Camelot?"

"Merlin!" Gaius got to his feet. "This has never been done successfully! What you would attempt will simply condemn you to this – death – consumed by the terrible fire," he smacked his finger on the page where the words were written. "I had a right to know."

"Did you?" Merlin responded, feeling his tenuous hold over his emotions slipping, and tears springing unbidden into his eyes. "This is my life Gaius, and believe me, I'm scared enough for both of us! I wanted only to spare you from worrying."

Gaius came out from behind his desk, and walked towards his ward.

"And besides," Merlin went on, shaking his head, and looking utterly despondent. "I don't even know if I can do this. I'm afraid, by what this could mean, Gaius. Really really afraid. And there's been no one I could tell."

"Merlin," Gaius sighed, and enfolded him in an embrace, all traces of anger gone.

Merlin shut his eyes, and let Gaius' protecting arms give him strength, then he drew back. "I'm sorry," he said honestly. "I never meant for you to find out like this."

Gaius looked at him intently, then put a hand tenderly to his cheek, wiping away his tears. "I know you were only trying to protect me," he said. "But you don't have to do this. There must be another way."

"There isn't Gaius. We've looked everywhere for a solution. Even the dragon thinks that this is the only way – though really he just seems to think we're all going to die."

"Come on," Gaius said, turning him around and pushing him towards the table. "There's always another book we can read."

And so they did, all through the day, as around them in the castle, great preparations were made for the evacuation and the battle, people coming and going and shouting and banging. And through it all continued the steady rumbling from beneath them.

It was in the very late afternoon when Merlin had set about raising the fog, achieving it not as simply smoke, or an illusion, but actually causing subtle changes in the temperature and humidity of the air so that a natural haze began to form, growing slowly denser and denser as the afternoon became evening. It was a powerful spell, and a great drain, but it meant that he could leave it to its own devices, instead of concentrating on maintaining it.

But the strain of the spell, and two nights of interrupted sleep (proceeded by two nights sleeping outside) meant that exhaustion began to catch up with him long before nightfall. In fact, he was almost about to excuse himself and go to his bed, his eyes no longer taking in the words they were reading, when Gaius suddenly said: "Here!"

"What?" Merlin jumped.

Gaius was stabbing at the book, and Merlin tried to get his tired eyes open a little further. "It talks here," Gaius said. "About a stone that has some sort of control over dragons – I've never heard of such a thing before. It says: 'the stone enhances the abilities of the dragon lord, even at a subconscious level, offering a level of protection as well as opening latent possibilities'."

"What does that mean?" Merlin asked, his brain not quite up to understanding complicated things – like words.

"I have no idea," said Gaius. "But it's the only thing I've read so far that sounds even remotely helpful."

"Wait," Merlin said, putting both his hands to his head, and trying to force his brain to work.

"What is it?" Gaius wondered.

"A stone…" Merlin said.

"Yes – perhaps there might be something like this in the vaults. It might be a long shot, but Uther collected many such magical artefacts during the great purge. It's possible that an example has survived."

"No," Merlin said, shaking his head. "There's something else. A stone…"

Gaius waited patiently while Merlin tried to put his head together. Then with a startling suddenness, he sat up straight. "A dragon stone!" he exclaimed, eyes wide.

"Yes?" Gaius said. "That's what it's called."

"No, Gaius, I have a dragon stone," he insisted.

"What are you talking about?" Gaius wondered, but Merlin was already on his feet, and stumbling towards his room with all the speed his tired limbs could manage. There was the sound of things moving about, being thrown, toppled over. Gaius' face was a mass of curiosity, but he sat where he was and waited. He didn't have to wait long. A few seconds later, Merlin appeared again with a pouch in his hands.

"When Gwen and the others saved me," he said. "After the crystal cave, they took me to the druids. Now of course, the druids couldn't actually help, but they sent them to the dragon, and one of them gave Gwen this." He tipped the bag and emptied its contents into his hand: an amber rock about the size of a fist. "They called it a dragon stone. Gwen said that it called the dragon to me, even though I was asleep. And when I got better, she gave it to me – she said I would probably know what to do with it more than she would, though truth be told, I haven't given it a moment's thought until right now."

"Merlin!" Gaius stood up and came forward, reaching his hand out to take the stone.

Merlin smiled at him. "Now will you stop worrying?" he asked.

Gaius grew serious again. "This isn't a guarantee, Merlin. The stone might give you some protection, but everything that we've read says that taking on the power of a dragon is still incredibly dangerous. Please, the one thing I ask is that you don't do anything rash."

"I won't Gaius, I promise. In fact, unless you have any objections, I'm going to go to bed and do lots of thinking about it – or possibly lots of sleeping. Will you wake me up when Arthur comes back from the battle?"

Gaius smiled. "Go," he said. "I'm sure there will be plenty of time for heroics in the morning."

Merlin lay not sleeping, watching the light play across his ceiling. Outside, there were bangs and clatters as the first refugee group departed, but he was too tired to give it much attention. Certainly it wasn't what was keeping him awake. He simply couldn't get his mind to shut off. He was almost angry at himself. After all, it didn't really make sense given how tired he was. All he wanted to do in the world, as the room got darker and darker, was to sleep and to forget.

And then he did, or at least, he thought he did, losing himself in those empty spaces between dreams and wakefulness. He wasn't even sure if he dreamt the sensation of a vision starting, or if the pain crawling across his scalp and down inside him was real. But from somewhere, he heard the words of the dragon: It is not that you can not see these visions, it is that you will not.

Alright, he thought to himself. Dream or not, let's see what there is to see.

Instantly, he became lost in screaming sensations, the breath stolen from his body in an overwhelming mass of sights and sounds. He couldn't take it in. It was pointless even trying. They washed over him like a flood, holding him down, drowning him. He was gasping for air, for escape, for anything other than this.

And then someone was shaking him, and he was awake, suddenly, jarringly, thirsty for air, drinking in sweet breaths as he felt someone's hand on his head, someone who was calling his name.

It took him a moment to recognise who it was.

"Merlin! It's alright."

"Gaius!"

The room was shaded in shadows.

"I think you had another vision," Gaius told him. He was dressed in his nightclothes, and presumably had been asleep. "It's okay."

"No," Merlin said, trying to push his hands away. "It's not."

"You remember?" Gaius asked him incredulously. "You remember what you saw?"

Merlin shut his eyes, sitting and pulling his knees up as he tried to steady his breathing. "Did I say anything?" he muttered.

"Nothing intelligible," Gaius said. "But you were calling out. What do you remember?"

Merlin put his hands to his eyes. "It's like a dream," he said shakily, trying to hold onto the images, coalesce them. They flickered, faded, then came back in a rush. His eyes flared open. "Arthur!" he said. He looked up at Gaius. "Has Arthur returned from the battle?" he demanded.

"Yes, some time ago," Gaius said. "I would have woken you, but you needed your sleep."

"He's in danger," Merlin said, struggling to get up. He pushed Gaius gently aside, and reached for his boots underneath the bed.

"What sort of danger?" Merlin didn't answer, he was too busy yanking on clothes at super fast speed. "Merlin?"

"There's no time to explain." The warlock staggered to his feet, he felt drained. "Summon the guard," he said, "And have them come to Uther's chambers immediately."

"Uther's chambers?" Gaius asked blankly. "I thought you said it was Arthur who was in danger?"

"It is," said Merlin, pausing at his door and looking back at his uncle. "There's nothing I can do for Uther."

TBC