Thank you for the reviews. There's only a couple of chapters left of this. I'm in the midst of writing and planning a modern college AU, if anyone would be interested in reading it.
Bargaining
They're assembled at the stables. Gwen wrings her hands nervously, while Merlin helps Gaius pack potions and healing remedies into a satchel. Nimueh is holding a spell book, appearing to be very agitated. Morgana and Morguase stand together off to the side, speaking quietly.
Arthur is putting on his armour, and Gwen moves to his side to help him, silently tying it in place.
"Thank you, Guinevere," he says in a soft voice.
"Not a problem, sire," she says just as softly.
Arthur smiles a little, and Gwen returns it, tense.
"Come back safely," she says as she steps away.
"Guinevere," Arthur starts, unable to finish due to an interruption by the knights.
"Sire, you cannot go alone," Leon speaks from his place among the knights.
"I'm not alone," he looks to the sorcerer and assembled sorceresses, "if anything should happen to me, my father shall be king once more. There is no heir. I shall leave it for the council to decide-"
"I won't let anything happen to you, Arthur," Merlin says, sliding the satchel onto his shoulder.
"I know," Arthur pats his friend on his arm, "it's dangerous enough. I can't lead an army into hell. It must be us and us alone."
Leon nods reluctantly and the knights, Gaius, and Guinevere, watch the King, Great Warlock, and High Priestesses mount their horses, and trot away, disappearing into the distance.
Dawn barely breaks as they enter the thick of the forest. Morgana's heart quickens and she looks to Merlin, who sits on his horse by her side. He sends her a reassuring look and reaches to hold her hand, when Arthur leads the group to a halt.
"What is it?" Morgause asks, dark eyes scanning the forest filtered with early morning sunlight.
"A noise," Arthur responds.
Nimueh rolls her eyes in annoyance, a common occurrence, and her outstretches her arm, blinding them all with a bright light.
Once the light fades, a deer runs from behind the trees, obviously startled.
"Can we move on, sire?" she asks.
Arthur grunts in agreement and the group sets off once more. Merlin glares at Nimueh. It was her magic that did this, created a rift between the otherworld and their own. He and Morgana would never have agreed to her scheme had they known this would be the result.
Magic has a price, and now they have to pay it.
Morgana looks at him with wide green eyes and he offers a small, tight-lipped smile. They must reach the Isle of the Blessed, the only location in the realm with enough magic to open the portal. They must act quickly, for the veil between worlds had thinned, causing death and destruction to spread.
As Nimueh and Gaius had explained, once they cross over, they must close the portal, which is the only way out. They could leave only once they completed their task, or remain in Hell for eternity. No pressure there at all.
"The boat," Merlin finally says after a long silence, "there's only one boat."
"Excellent observation, Merlin," Nimueh snarks.
"It's a genuine concern," Morgana grumbles and Merlin smiles at her.
"One person will remain in the boat and take the others one by one," the High Priestess grits her teeth in annoyance. To think, she was becoming used to these imbeciles.
Morgause shakes her head, frustrated with the company. She likes Nimueh, a lot. She understands her and they have bonded over their powers. She respects her.
She glances at Merlin out of the corner of her eye sceptically. What does her dear sister see in him? Besides his magic, of course? He speaks too quickly and has a sharp wit, and coupled with the fact he's not terribly hideous, Morgause figures that her sister could do a lot worse. In fact, she quite enjoys Morgana and Merlin making rude, acerbic comments to the King. It's great entertainment at the expense of the Pendragon.
Still, there's no time for jokes or bickering. They have a task to complete. Once done, they can go back to their regular lives. Morgana and Merlin can continue planning their wedding, Arthur will continue to undo Uther's bans on magic, Nimueh will go back to sulking around the Isle, and Morgause can start to rebuild the Isle and seek out the magical community to assist them in their powers. It's a new age in Camelot and they'll be damned if some hell god keeps them from enjoying it.
So they keep on, until they reach the Isle, the Isle that is the centre of the Old Religion. Nimueh alternately glares at her company and pities them. The entire point of the Old Religion is to keep death and life in balance, and she ruined that balance by trying to rewrite history, to fix things. She doesn't want this. She wanted Uther gone, nothing more. She did not wish to create a rift and awaken the gods of hell.
After what seems like an eternity, they reach the Isle after lengthy trips back and forth on the boat to get everyone on the other side. Inside, they stand at the slab of marble, the entrance to the spirit world. Nimueh forces them to stand in a circle, hands clasped to one another's. She begins to recite a spell, Morgause and Merlin joining in to make it stronger, more powerful, to protect them in hell. Morgana whispers, barely audible. Her dream contained this moment, but it was different. Perhaps her dream was merely a dream and not the terrible vision she believed it to be.
Nimueh's eyes glow and they are enveloped with a soft, golden light. Their protection. Nimueh nods, satisfied with her handiwork.
"How do we get in?" Arthur asks his magical companions.
Nimueh's eyes narrow and Morgana gasps softly in realisation.
"A blood sacrifice," Nimueh says calmly.
"What?" Arthur asks in confusion, "there must be another way."
"To open the veil, a life must be taken," Nimueh slams the spell book onto the slab.
"Wait!" Merlin shouts, "the veil is thinner than ever. No one needs to die," he tried.
"Then how?" Morgause raises a brow and Morgana clings to Merlin's side in worry. He better not do anything stupid, like sacrifice himself.
"The blood of the most powerful Priests and Priestesses of the Old Religion, cut by a dagger enchanted by Emrys himself," Nimeuh says, the book open in front of her.
Merlin quickly rummages through the satchel, taking out a dagger. It's encrusted with stones and sapphires and rubies and emeralds; it is a gift from Gaius, who prior to their departure had given it to him.
Merlin, Nimueh, Morgause, and Morgana stand before the slab of marble, each one slicing their palms deeply with the dagger, reciting the spell in the book. The deeper their cuts, the more likely the veil would be lifted.
'Eala leofu æðelu þæm gastum befæste ic þe. Alynne þa þeostre þe inne onwunaþ; onginn ende!" (Alas dear family I entrust you to the spirits. Release the darkness that remains inside you; chaos, end!)
One by one they wipe their hands, marring the marble with their deep red blood. The earth rumbles and Arthur nearly stumbles, his hand already on his sword just in case.
A figure appears before them; it is the The Cailleach, the goddess of death and winter who guards the veil between two worlds. She is old, and looks at the group with sunken eyes. Black and grey swirl behind her in a whirlpool; the portal has been opened.
As they move to enter the portal she regards them sharply, "if you pass, more creatures from beyond will make their way out into the land of the living."
"We shall close the portal," Morgause looks at the goddess with an odd sense of familiarity. Something draws her towards the spirit world, as if she belongs there. She shakes her head, blonde hair falling about.
The Calleach's lips ghost into what could be considered a smile, "Oh, child."
Nimueh's eyes widen in panic, but no one notices. The Calleach recognises Morgause. That means those in the Other World remember. They remember the past. She prepares herself for the worst. She altered time, now she must be punished.
"I shall close the veil," Nimueh says suddenly.
Merlin looks at her sharply, worry etching his features, "How do you propose to that?"
"Use all of my magic to keep it sealed. I can fight off any spirits trying to get through, go on without me," her cold blue eyes look concerned for the briefest moment, before she is stoic once more.
"No. You are the High Priestess, you and Morgause are the most powerful," Merlin argues and Morgana nods.
"No, Emrys. You are the most powerful," Nimueh smiles lightly, and she looks so incredibly young despite her actual age.
So Morgana, Morgause, Arthur, and Merlin step through the portal, Nimueh following. The former four set off ahead, already on a different plane of reality. Merlin turns around to look at Nimueh, who smiles sadly.
"Merlin," she says suddenly.
"Yes?"
"We could've ruled the world," she jokes, and Merlin smiles.
"Thank you. For giving Morgana and I another chance," he says quietly.
"My pleasure. Look after the kingdom, Merlin. Look after Gaius," she says it as an order but it is a mere request. Merlin nods and two pairs of blue eyes meet. They could've ruled the world, but it wasn't to be. He turns away and catches up with the others, leaving Nimueh to make her eyes glow and fight off anyone trying to get through.
She smirks. What a way to go.
The group of five has been reduced to four. Arthur is surprisingly quiet, staring in wonder at the assembled spirits and creatures.
"So, where is this hell god?" the King asks.
"We're not in hell, Arthur. We're merely in the Spirit World," Merlin answers.
"We have another portal to pass," Morgause says, walking ahead of the King. It's as if she knows the way by heart; the path entrenched in her memory somehow.
They pass by spirits, mostly harmless and indifferent to their presence. The further they venture into the Spirit World, the colder it becomes. Merlin reaches for Morgana's hand, without looking to see if she has stretched out her own. She has, and takes his in hers.
All the warmth in their bodies seem to be escaping, their breath becomes shallow and visible in the darkness engulfing. Morgause shivers and Arthur remains silent. Though he is King, this is one thing he has never been prepared for.
"We are here," Morgause says. She shakes her head and holds her hand in front of her.
"Allow us entrance into the depths of hell," she whispers, to everyone's surprise, in English. It isn't a spell. It is a request.
A doorway appears from the air, large, iron and black. Morgana's heart pounds erratically in her chest and her spare hand rests on her sword.
They cross into Hell, and it's not fire and brimstone. It's cold, and dark. There is no light save for the faint light streaming through the doorway. The iron door shuts to a close, eliminating all of the light there. Morgana fights a yelp, and Merlin's eyes glow, a small ball of light in his hands. He blows on it, making the little ball fly up ahead of them, illuminating their path.
They all gasp at what they see. Tormented spirits, the walking dead, all in chains and shackles.
The protection Nimueh had cast over them begins to fade. All pleasant memories from their lives are fed on, drawn from them. In their place are terrible remnants of the past they'd rather forget.
Morgana's eyes widen in terror as she sees herself attack Gwen, kill countless innocent townspeople, torture Merlin, fight Arthur, and stage yet more attacks on her home. She shakes her head and turns to Merlin who seems to be in a daze. He sees himself kill Nimueh, poison Morgana, lie to Arthur time and time again. Morgause's brown eyes are blank and she looks like she's about to collapse. For all her strength, she has committed terrible crimes in her past life, and is now being shown every wrong she has ever done.
Morgana reaches her arm out to steady her sister, whose knees buckle.
Arthur's blue eyes meet Merlin's and the King's eyes narrow. His head aches and he chokes out,
"I remember," he frowns. Another life. An evil, vengeance-seeking Morgana. A lying Merlin.
"I too, remember," Morgause looks at Arthur apologetically, "I am sorry."
Arthur nods, not looking at anyone but Merlin.
"You remembered that life," he says quietly, "yet you did not tell me?"
"No one could remember or else terrible things would happen. We wanted a better life for us all, this time around. I did it to protect you," Merlin says, pained.
"Terrible things are happening. We're in hell, Merlin," Arthur glares at him.
His glare softens and he looks confused. His mind is filled with strange tall buildings, wearing a strange uniform. Loud blasts from…rifles? Bombs? He sees Merlin sitting, wearing a similar uniform, holding him in his arms, face streaked with tears.
"I couldn't protect you," Merlin cries, "I always find you too late. You're gone, every single time I finally find you."
Arthur looks up at Merlin, jaw set despite its inclination to quiver. Morgause is leaning on Morgana, energy sucked out of her very being. Arthur reaches forward and against his usual judgment, hugs Merlin. They have lived so many lives without each other he will take advantage of being near his friend once more. Arthur marvels at how incredibly tiny Merlin seems, though Merlin is taller.
"I'm sorry, Arthur," Merlin mumbles into the King's armour.
"Me too, Merlin," he nods and pulls away, patting Merlin on the shoulder.
The ball of light Merlin conjured grows brighter, larger. Morgause stands up straighter,
"We must go on," she says firmly.
This is just the beginning. The further they descend into hell, the colder their hearts will grow. She should know, it was her final resting place after Morgana sacrificed her. Morgana holds her still, and Morgause smiles sadly at her younger sister. So much pain caused was because of her. Well no more. She will end this.
The ball of light leads them down the rocky, high underground cliff, and they follow, trying not to near the edge too much.
They walk for hours, and finally reach their destination. Helle, the god of Hell, sits on a throne made of skull. He does not resemble a monster. His face could be considered handsome, but the aura he gives off is dastardly. He wears a cloak made of the flesh of his victims. A twisted smile crosses his thin lips.
"Welcome, weary travellers," he greets, not moving to stand.
"We have come to request you stop inflicting illness on the people of Camelot," Arthur says in his 'kingly' voice.
"Request denied," Helle says in a bored tone.
"I am King of Camelot," Arthur snarls.
"You are king of a mortal realm. I am the god of Hell," the creature smirks, "your power holds no weight here."
"He may not have any power here, but I do," Merlin steps forward, arms outstretched. "Either leave the world of the living be or I shall force you."
"I am the god of death and ruler of this land. I can claim lives if need be," he scoffs.
"Children have died. Innocent people have died," Merlin says.
"That's what they do. They live and die. I merely speed up the process. Tell me, Emrys, have you not ended the lives of other beings?" he smirks once more, "or you, Lady Morgana?"
Morgana glares at the god with a steely look, green eyes frosting.
"I have asked for forgiveness, and was granted another chance," she says calmly.
"Ah. It is this chance you've been given that let me create this havoc. It's so much fun," he grins like a madman.
"How can we get you to stop?" Morgause asks quietly.
"Ah, High Priestess. So good to see you again. Pray tell, where is the orchestrator of all this?" he asks curiously.
"She is at the veil, keeping your evil away from our world," Arthur speaks up, surprising everyone.
The god smiles, too widely.
Merlin sends a ball of fire towards him, so supremely frustrated that his powers act beyond his control. The fireball is waved away with a thin, skeletal hand.
"Time has been rewritten, altered. Magic has a price. You must restore everything to its rightful state for me to stop. I offer you a solution, for I am not heartless nor cruel."
"What?" Morgana asks sceptically.
"You go return to whence you came, before striking this deal with Nimueh," he offers.
"And you'll stop. Everyone will be safe?" Arthur asks. Maybe it wouldn't be that bad.
The god laughs, "You fool. Nothing can ever stop me. This world as you know it shall cease to exist, wiped from existence, and the old Camelot will be restored."
"No," Merlin shakes his head, "request denied."
His eyes glow and the ground shakes. He begins to speak, voice low and dark. The hell god jumps from his throne, it shattering behind him. Morgana and Morgause join hands with Merlin, their eyes glowing as well. A gust of wind rushes through hell, and Arthur wields his sword, aiming it at Helle.
"No, you idiots! You will destroy the balance! Magic has a price. A life for a life!" he shouts at them, summoning his undead minions. They run towards the people of Camelot. Morgana and Morgause unsheath their swords and help Arthur slice through them.
Merlin keeps his golden eyes fixed on Helle, and while chaos and fighting goes on, they stare each other down.
"Oh, Emrys. You mean to do good, but bring only destruction," he coos.
"Not as much destruction as you," Merlin knocks him back with a mere tilt of his head.
Helle goes flying, crashing into a stone wall. He stands up, incredibly spry, and cracks his neck.
"You may be the greatest warlock, but I am a god!" he sneers, a staff appearing from nowhere. He taps it on the ground, creating cracks instantaneously.
The floor breaks open, creating a rift. Morgana, Arthur, and Morgause fall away into a heap.
"NO!" Merlin shouts, running toward the edge, seeing them in a heap at the bottom of hell, unconscious.
"Is this what you wanted, Emrys? Your second chance at this life is just as doomed as the first. You cannot rewrite time and prophecies. That is the work of gods, not warlocks," Helle cracks his neck.
Merlin pants heavily, livid. This can't have been all for nothing. Everything had been going so well, and now…
His eyes glow golden once more and he roars with words unfamiliar to his own ears, but innate in him. His magic is inborn. He doesn't need spells.
Clouds gather in the darkness of hell, thunder and lightening lighting the black sky. Helle looks up in shock.
"You will leave Camelot and the world of the living alone, or fear my wrath," his voice is not his own and lightning strikes his minions, his throne, all incinerated into dust.
"Give them back," Merlin nods toward the three, "now."
Helle regards him with cold black eyes, "Make. Me."
The lightening hits Helle, who seizes from the current. The flesh cloak becomes flayed and singed from the attack, and the god falls to a heap on the ground in front of Merlin.
"How?" Helle croaks. How could a mere warlock injure him so easily? He stands, holding his ground in his realm.
The iron door appears suddenly, and is pulled open. A very angry, irate, and bloodied up High Priestess stalked into hell as if she owned the place. Merlin's lips quirked into a small grin.
"You!" she screams at Helle, "will leave Camelot alone or I will end you."
"Hell needs a god. It is part of the balance of life and death, balance of time," he grunts.
"You have no claim over the lives of Camelot's citizens. The veil is thin, but I can fix that," Nimueh scowls.
"Then fix it, and I shall rule my realm in peace," Helle matches her scowl. He was merely taking advantage of the prospect of more lives.
"First the Pendragons," Nimueh orders. Helle rolls his eyes and snaps his fingers.
Morgana, Morgause, and Arthur are awake and standing next to Merlin. Merlin lets out a sigh of relief and Morgana throws her arms around his neck.
"Let's go," Nimueh orders, "we have a deal, Helle," she snarls.
They are at the Isle of the Blessed once more, standing in front of the portal.
"How are you going to stop it?" Merlin asks what they are all thinking.
"By going back," Nimueh says, "there needs to be a sacrifice, a life to end this madness. It is my fault this began. I shall end it."
"No," Morgana shakes her head in sympathy, "you can't."
Nimueh smiles fleetingly, perhaps the first true smile to cross her lips in decades.
"Rule well, Arthur Pendragon," she looks at her nephew before turning to Merlin, "take care of them, Merlin. All of them," she finishes.
Merlin knows she means Gaius and nods slightly. She in turn nods at Merlin and then shares a sad look with Morgause.
The blonde sorceress steps forward and takes Nimueh's hand in her own, "Goodbye."
"Goodbye, Morgause," she runs her thumb over the back of Morgause's hand. She always liked Morgause. She was a fast learner and ruthless leader. A bit like her. A bit too much like her.
Nimeuh let go, Morgause's hand dropping away. The High Priestess of the Old Religion waves her hand, opening the veil. She steps forward and looks back over her shoulder with a final genuine smile, and disappears into the Other World.
So, they reached a bargain. Nimueh's life to stop the rest of Camelot from being slaughtered. I've always liked Nimueh, and feel like she was always more than a typical big bad. Please review.