Okay, so I've been looking over my hits lately, barely a hundrerd people read all the way to the latest chapter? Please, is this story becoming boring? Is enough happening fast enough for you. Please, if you want it to continue, review it. I need reviews to get motivated, because otherwise the actual writing part of writing is really hard for me. So, please review. Please?
"The witchfinder?" Arthur asked.
"Yes, he framed Gaius. So I framed him. Put a frog in his mouth to. Might have been a bit much but it was a laugh."
"The Griffon?"
"I enchanted the tip of Lancelots lance. With a magical head, it cut through the hide like paper."
"Did Olaf's daughter enchant me? Or was I acting like an absolute arse of my own accord?"
"Ha! No, she didn't enchant you herself. Actually, she was enchanted too, I think. Love potions. I think one of the other kings was trying to start a war. The only way to break a love potions hold is to be kissed by the person you really love...so I talked to Gwen and, you know the rest."
"The Dragon attack? You stopped it with your dragon lord abilities? I'm sorry about you're father. At the time I didnt understand."
"Yes, and it's alright. I'm still a bit rusty with those powers though. Controlling a dragon is a bit harder than you would think."
"The assasin that tried to kill me when I was staying with Guienivere?"
"That one two. Don't remember how exactly though. Some of these get sort of jumbled together."
Lancelot watched with quiet curiosity as the Prince and the manservant turned prophetic messianic figure traded questions and answers back and forth. Merlin's stories were fascinating, tales of witchcraft and treachery worthy of a bard's epic song. It seemed to the dragon bound warrior that there had not been a single day during Merlin's life as a servant when Arthur when Arthur hadn't been nearly killed by some sort of magical assassin bent on taking over Camelot.
He had battled dark sorcerers, helped to defeat the griffon, averted a deadly plague, and had his master's life on more occasions than one cared to think about. And to think that was just his first few months of servitude, and nearly two years worth of tales remained to be told. It boggled Lancelot's mind. How could one person handle so much by themselves? Most men would be driven to madness with just a single day of Merlin's line of work.
Quietly he rose from his seat. Cradling the dragoness' egg in its carrying sling, he tip toed from the tent. While Merlin's stories were enjoyable, and he would like to hear about his various adventures, Lancelot could see that the two friends would be in need of some time to themselves to talk. Emotions were running high, tension, anxiety, with just a little hopeful optimism sprinkled in.
"Right," said Arthur, drawing another line in the dirt at his feet, tallying up the number of times Merlin had had to save the day. He leaned back against a pile of fur lined cushions. The tents dim lighting, provided by candles that stood in ornate golden stands, carved dark oblong lines over his cheekbones. They'd yet to touch on any truly tantalizing subjects. Nothing details of the Pilgrim, of the Crystal cave. It was just a matter of time.
"Next question. When exactly did have this made, and why?" He tapped Excalibur's magnificent hilt.
"When the wraith attacked," Merlin answered. "You'd taken its next challenge, and the dragon told me you could only defeat it with a weapon enchanted to kill the dead. So I went to Gwen in the middle of the night and asked her for the finest sword her father had ever made. She was hesitant at first, but gave in when I told her it was to keep you alive. From there I brought the sword to the dragon, and he tempered it with his fire.
He told me the blade was meant to be used by you and you alone. In anyone else's hands it would bring only death and destruction. But then you're father took your place in the duel, and he used it. After just holding it once he called it the finest blade he's ever seen. He could feel its power. He wanted it for himself."
"That's why you threw it in the lake, to hide in until I would need it again," Arthur said in understanding. Merlin nodded.
"And the Pilgrim told you where to find it?"
"Yes, though indirectly. He sent me a vision of my mothers spirit to talk with me. She showed me the way."
Lowering his gaze, Arthur rubbed his chin gingerly considering his next question, along with the topic of their tell all discussion. Part of him wanted to continue the conversation as it had been. Chronicling Merlin's exploits one by one in the order they came to mind. But now that they'd reached the subject of the sword, the matter of Freya came with it.
On this matter he didn't know where to begin. How does one go about discussing with his closest friend the fact that he'd killed the woman he loved, and that he had spoken with her lake bound spirit just hours ago?
"Merlin…at the lake I met…I met Freya." All color drained from the warlock's usually cheery face.
"F-Freya's dead," he stammered.
Void-like chasms of sad memory formed in his eyes. Taking a deep breath, Arthur explained.
"Her spirit became bound to the lake where you launched her funeral pyre. She's become a guardian spirit of some sort. She told me how you kept her hidden. That you'd fallen in love with one each other It was her who brought me the this." He ran a careful finger along Excalibur's covered blade. "She…she sends her love, and says that you'll see her again very soon."
Arthur hung his head in guilt ridden shame. "I'm truly sorry, Merlin. I killed her; I killed the woman you love."
"It wasn't your fault. You didn't know," Merlin interjected immediately. The chasm had gone from his eyes. Something warm returned to his face, lightening his expression. "Please don't look like that Arthur. It's alright."
"It's not alright! I killed the woman you love!" These words he nearly screamed. Hands shaking he scrubbed at his sweat coated hair. His eyes had gone red and puffed. He leaned forward on the edge of his seat. Tears threatened to fall.
"All the time you could have had together, the future you may have had is gone because of me, Merlin. How can you forgive that so easily?"
"Because like I told you, it wasn't your fault. You didn't know Arthur, you couldn't have known. All you saw was a winged panther rampaging through the city. You didn't have time to think about the person she may have been or who she knew. And besides," he added with a ghostly smile. "If what you said was true I'll see her again. I think you're right."
An extended silence followed. The two of them sat, eyes locked, analyzing one another, peering into each other's souls. After a moment Arthur slowly began to regain his composure. Redness retreated from his cheeks. The shaking of his hands ceased. Leaning back against the cushions, he asked.
"You saved me from the questing beast didn't you?"
"I did," came the reply.
"How did you pull that one off? My wounds were terrible. It can't have been easy. What did you use, a magic potion, or some kind of healing spell?" Merlin shook his head.
"No. I couldn't find any sort of spell that would work. I've never been good with potions, but Gaius didn't know of any of those either." He paused, flexing his fingers ponderingly. "Gaius told me that when you get down to it magic is about balance. In order to gain something, something must be given in return… The only magic that could save you required a sacrifice. I went to a place called the Isle of the Blessed, the center of the Old religion, and offered my life to Nimueh so that you could live." A deathly white spread across the prince's cheeks.
"You. Did. What?" he burst angrily. How could you do something so stupid?" Merlin sighed.
"I did it because you're my friend Arthur. It's that simple. I would have done anything to save you." Arthur felt the heat fade from his cheeks.
"How are you still alive?" Merlin shrugged a shoulder.
"Things got a little complicated. Nimueh was the high priestess of the isle, and instead of holding to our deal and taking my life, she tried to take my mother's instead. Do you remember when she came to Camelot ill? Well, Gaius went to the isle to give his life to save her. So in short I confronted Nimueh, and I killed her. With her death Gaius was allowed to live." Arthur starred, dumbfounded.
Merlin, killing someone? It was about as believable as a swamp fly wielding a battle axe.
"Y-you killed Nimueh?"
"With lightning from the sky," his friend told him solemnly, sounding regretful. "I'd never been so angry before. Gaius was dead. All the power inside me well up and exploded outward." He trailed off, unsure of what to say. Another lengthy silence fell. 'That's why Nimueh hasn't attacked in so long,' Arthur thought in disbelieving wonder. 'She's been dead'. He looked over his manservant. Appearance wise, with big goofy ears, baby blue eyes, an infuriating large grin, shoulders draped in robes sewn with Druid symbols, nothing hinted at the most extraordinary of qualities. Not his godlike magical talents. Nor his status amongst the Druids.
No, what most thoroughly defined him was his unmatchable , undying sense of loyalty towards those he held dear. While foreknowledge of destiny had started him on the path, he remained on it to protect a friend. A cause far nobler than any of the Camelot's wealthy noblemen could ever hope to claim. Satisfied, the Prince sank back against the cushions. He ran his tongue over dry chapped lips. Another question, this once rather unpleasant, evolved from a dormant thought to a single spoken word.
"Morgana." Merlin cringed visibly. A hand tugged anxiously at a gilded sleeve of his robe.
"How she came to side with Morgause, that's what you want to know, right?"
"Everything that you know," Arthur responded firmly. "I need to hear it all. Anything could help to defeat her in the future, no matter how insignificant it may seem. First things first though, do you know when she first started practicing sorcery?"
"She didn't. Like me she was born with her magic. For years it manifested as nightmares, seers dreams. The rest of her abilities like standard speel work and telekinesis didnt appear until much later in her life."
"Why's that?"
"Not sure really. Gaius thinks it may be because of her fear of Uther. Knowing what he'd do to her if he ever found out, she repressed her magic until it became dormant. For a while at least." Arthur scratched his chin.
"Couldnt you and Gaius, I dont know...trained her or something?Surely between the two of you there was something you could teach her." Again Merlin hung his head low. This was something he felt truly guilty for. Something, that if he'd approached differntly, may have resulted in Morgana not falling under her twisted sisters influence.
"Part of me wanted to. But Gaius covinced me I shouldnt get her involved. It made sense at the time. She was Uther's ward, and any involvement she could have with magic could only put her in danger. It didn't really work out like I'd hoped."
"No, I suppose it didnt," Arthur mumbled in agreement.
"Well," Merlin continued. "From there it's actually sort of straight forward. At least I think it is. While having to hide her magic she did everything she could to finght against your father. When Gwen's father died she even conspired with a group of assassins to kill him, but backed out at the last minute. Uther showed her he does have at least something of a heart."
"Couldn't have been much of one," said Arthur. On the subject of his father he was still divided. On one hand Uther had commited, horrible, irredeemable crimes based on his own misconception of his own actions. Yet on the other hand, he was still his father. Could he really bring himself to kill the man who had raised him for more than twenty years? Should mercy and redempotion be offered in the face the witches impending attack, or should the king be run through by his own son? Snapping back to reality, Arthur said.
"Go on, Merlin. Just lost myself in thought there for a moment. How did Morgause come into the picture? Was Morgana actually kidnapped or did she go of her on freewill?" With a quick tug he unsheathed Excalibur, examing it's flawless blade over his knee.
"Freewill. Or mostly so. The two of them met when Morgause challenged you to that duel. Later, when Morgause set the stone knights on Camelot while it was under her sleeping spell, she made Morgana the source of the enchantment. The only way to stop it was to...kill her. There was no other way. I slipped her some poison from Gaius' workshop. I made Morgause end the enchantment before i would tell her what the posion was... She left then, bringing Morgana with her."
"...You did the right thing Merlin. Poisoning must've been hard for you, but her life, for the rest of the kingdom, was the best trade you could have made." Merlin smiled thinly.
"I'm glad someone think's so at least. I've had nightmares about making that decision. Haven't forgiven myself for it yet, and neither has Morgana."
"What do you know about the Pilgrim?" queried Arthur, chaning the subject. In his mind Merlin should feel no guilt for what he had done. With the crimes she'd comitted on her hands, his bastard sister deserved no more than death. "When Guinivere and I were with him he spoke of nothing but the future, cryptic propheices, and our destinies. He told me you were some kind of prophet. Can you explain that to me?"
"The Pilgrim is...Emrys," Merlin explained carefully. "The Emrys, the prophet, before me. That's why he's dying. When I took over the job, his power was no longer needed within him. I went into a cave of crystal you see, the one from the prophecy. And in it I saw visions of what would be. But mostly I started to...know things. There are certain things I just know to be true beyond all doubt. I know what needs to happen, Arthur. The details are still a bit fuzzy, but they'll fill themselves in eventually. Hopefully. In the end, the Pilgrim will die. And maybe then we'll come to fully understand who and what he is."
"What needs to be done?"
"We have to fight. A battle's coming, one that there's no avoiding. The kingdoms will break and fall apart. Armies will be formed and shattered. Some will ride by your side, others against you. Morgana and I are going to do battle. One of us is gooing to have to kill the other, yet both of us will be dead...don;t ask what that mean's. That part I havent been shown much about. But for now, I don't know what to do."
"Couldnt you just go back to the cave, look for another vision?" the warlock shook his head.
"I'll return to the cave sometime, when the time is right. But for visions, I just need the reflection of flames."
Then, as if one cue, or by the will fo whatever God was watching, the candlelight caught Excalibur's blade as Arthur moved to put it away. Electric sensations rocketed through his nerves. Images flashed like a thousands memories flooding back at a single moment. Screams filled his ears. Chains, the warmth of fire. Lancelot knelt before an egg cracked open, a scaly shadow moving about him. Hooves thundering across the countryside. Morgana's smirk, a crown atop her head. Gwen shrieking in agony. Pain ripped through his skull. Power threatened to tear away from him unwanted. White hot knives tore at his flesh. The knowing came. Prophetic knowledge of what must be became his.
Merlin's eyes flew open. He lay sprawled on the floor, limbs jutting out in random directions. Arthur stood over him looking worried.
"Are you alright? Was that a-"
"Vision? Yes. Pefect timing too. We have to return to Camelot. Now. That's what we're meant to do. I know it. Gwen's in trouble."
Meant this to be longer, but I have rehearsal for the school musical tonight, and all this week. Again, tell me if not enough is happening fast enough. I initially meant for this to be twice as long, to have Gwen, Morgana, and Cenred in it, but i just needed to update. Mostly just exposition, but I hoped you liked it. Next chapter, I swear, things speed up. Hell is unleashed, Morgana laughs evilly, Cenred has a bad day, etc. Happy Reading!