-27-
Arthur goggled at the man before him. Tall and sparse, but with a shock of white hair that made him look like he had somehow stuck a finger in a live socket. The gray-green suit did little to comfort his confused thoughts.
"He will be able to help you, Sire," Galahad had assured him.
Arthur walked further into the room, not without a thread of hesitation running through him. Although he still had his misgivings about the use of magic, it had taken him little time to grow accustomed to magical beings. But the person before him—if he was human—radiated power that not even Merlin could equal.
A low laugh rumbled through the old man and Arthur swore he felt it in his bones. Only one other being had been able to do that.
"Great Dragon," he breathed. Relief washed through him when he realized that the creature before him was an ally.
Arthur was not too proud to admit that he was in need of more of those on his side.
"King Pendragon," the creature said in greeting. "Your light is missing, Arthur. Pray, what causes it to be so?"
"Guinevere," Arthur choked out, his throat constricting from the pain of saying her name.
"Ah," Kilgarrah said and somehow Arthur knew that the dragon knew everything that had happened between the two of them.
"If you could extend any help," the king said haltingly. "Any at all, I would be most grateful."
The dragon regarded the man in front of him, an unreadable expression of his wizened face.
"The years have not been kind to you, Pendragon. Your light is gone."
Kilgarrah gave a rueful smile.
"Of course, it was present only when you were with the Queen."
Arthur bowed his head. Guinevere's rejection of him hurt deeper than he could ever have imagined; he knew that there was very little chance of her wanting to see him again. But Arthur also knew that this meeting with Kilgarrah was not for his benefit.
"What is this meeting all about?" He asked wearily, his eyes still on the floor. He wasn't in the right frame of mind for riddles and parables. He may not have nightmares and headaches anymore, but the two weeks of knowing about Guinevere and not being with her were weighing down on him.
Arthur raised his head and was stunned. No longer were they in Morgana's office, the room he was in was bigger, it's walls lined with books. A large table that could comfortably seat twenty people was located clear to one side. On the surface were rolls of parchment, stacks of notebooks, and piles upon piles of books.
He felt dizzy; had he missed something? He had bowed his head for a moment—just a moment, he was certain of it—how had he come to find himself here?
"My apologies, Pendragon," the dragon's voice rang through the massive room. "I needed to travel quickly. Magic was the only way I could get us here with little effort."
"Where exactly is...here?" Arthur asked slowly, not altogether sure that he wanted to get an honest answer.
"Just a few miles out of the city," Kilgarrah walked to the bookshelf closest to them and pulled out a few volumes. The elder man then put them on top of the table, adding to the already large collection of books that littered the surface.
"This is my home, Arthur, and don't worry, you are quite safe here." The dragon's voice was kind but his tone did nothing to calm Arthur's nerves. As many lifetimes as he lived, he could never be completely at ease about magic. It had destroyed too many lives—and it had cost him the love of the person he valued above all.
"Don't look distraught young Pendragon," Kilgarrah said. "After all, didn't she once tell you that there is always hope?"
The dragon had read his mind.
"Is there hope?" Arthur hedged the question, not knowing how Kilgarrah was going to answer.
There was silence in the room as none of the room's four occupants said a word.
The dragon sighed and opened a few of the books laid out on the table.
"We," he gestured to himself, Merlin, Galahad, and Arthur. "We've lived through the ages in stories and in lore. Look at these books—they carry our stories. Our lives."
The other men moved closer to the table.
"This time thinks of these as made up stories of people who are just as fictional," Kilgarrah's tone was sad. "What they don't realize is that each of these stories is a life we've led, a lifetime we've lived."
"We've been living for a very long time," Galahad's voice was quiet, as if the truth just dawned on him at that very moment.
"In each lifetime, there are two things that have remained constant, young Pendragon," Kilgarrah turned his eyes on Arthur. "You and the Queen."
Arthur's breath caught in his throat. His dreams about the past showed him scenes and images but offered no explanations. He remembered them all, but he never realized that it had gone so far.
"Yes, Arthur," Kilgarrah was speaking again. "There was a time when Merlin wasn't by your side, but the Queen...she has always been there."
"Why do I not remember that?" Arthur was baffled. "How can I not know this?"
He turned to Merlin who looked just as bewildered as he.
"Does it matter now?" Kilgarrah's question was kind, and Arthur realized that, no, he did not care to find out why..
"It doesn't," Arthur admitted. "Not anymore."
There was a pause before Kilgarrah spoke again.
"Will you not ask why you are here, Pendragon?"
Arthur was taken aback. His shock at learning about his past lives briefly blanked him from all thought. He looked at the dragon and nodded.
"Think back on your lives, Arthur," Kilgarrah prompted softly. "Remember when you were strongest, remember who was beside you."
Arthur stood silent, trying to recall his dreams. His brow furrowed in concentration but all he kept seeing in his mind were flashes of a castle, strong and proud against a clear blue sky.
"Close your eyes," Merlin bade in a small voice. "Don't let your vision be clouded. Think, Arthur."
Arthur closed his eyes and listened to Kilgarrah's voice.
"Remember, young Pendragon, who gave you your strength."
Arthur's mind swam with images of a former him riding out to battle, to challenge a foe that was just as strong as he was. He remembered looking back and seeing a figure high upon the castle's stone parapets. He wasn't so far away that he could not make out that the figure was that of a woman clad in a gown of scarlet and gold—the colors of the standard held by one of his knights.
He recalled having called his men to halt and turn back to face the castle. The thunder of hooves paused and the knights and soldiers did just that.
Arthur saw himself draw his sword and raise it to the sky. Steel and gold glinted in the sunlight as Excalibur caught its rays.
"For the love of Camelot!" He shouted and his men did the same.
"Long live the Queen!"
A cheer, a shouted echo of his words, and then he heard himself whisper, "For you, my love."
Arthur's eyes sprang open and saw that three other pairs were looking at him.
"You see, Arthur," Kilgarrah began. "You were only brave when your Queen was beside you. Camelot was only as strong as when she held it in her hands."
Tears pooled in Arthur's eyes and he was grateful when Merlin and Galahad discreetly looked away.
"You fought blindly for a stone fortress, for a throne that should have been burned to the ground, when you should have defended your heart."
Arthur's chest constricted as realization dawned upon him.
"Guinevere is more than your wife. She is your humanity, young Pendragon; she anchors your legacy."
Dragon and King looked at each other, blue eyes meeting amber.
"You existed for centuries without a wizard, but you never lived until Guinevere was beside you."
Movement from Galahad drew Arthur's attention to the young knight.
"You cannot erase the past, Sire," the knight said softly. "But you can affect the present. And I would not my Lady suffer any more."
A steely glint came into the young man's eyes.
"Do not mistake, my lord. I will take her away should you fail."
"I..," Arthur was nearly unable to speak, "I do not deserve her forgiveness and she will not give me her love."
A hand slammed against the table and Arthur turned to see Merlin's eyes flash gold in anger.
"Do you not understand, Arthur?" The wizard's voice was angry. "This mission is not for you, it is for her! We have been killing her for centuries, defiling her memory so that she is blamed for the fall of a kingdom she loved and served more faithfully than any of us!"
Merlin took a deep breath.
"Whether she will forgive is something only she can decide," he said. "But will you waste the last of your lifetimes feeling sorry for yourself when it is she you have committed yourself to? Do not forget your promise!"
"Do you love her so little, sire?" Galahad spoke again, his voice gentle. "That you would forsake her redemption so that you receive the glory?"
"And what if I don't succeed?" Arthur asked his question softly.
A sad look crept into Merlin's eyes as he looked at his friend.
"Arthur," he said, calling the King's attention. "You will forget her slowly, as she will you. You will both be drowned with sadness and not know how to fill the emptiness in you."
There were tears in Merlin's eyes as he continued. For all his power, he did not know how to free his friends from this pain.
"I thought that death was to be part of it?"
"This is what boggles me about men—so quick to choose death," Kilgarrah's tone was exasperated. "You will live out the rest of your days without the person who will make you the happiest—surely that is a fate worse than the end of your mortal life?
Arthur nearly forgot how to breathe. To live without Guinevere—to never hold her, touch her; to never see her smile or hear her voice—was not a life. He closed his eyes and tried to tamp down his fear.
"But to answer your question, yes, you will die, with your loss, and never be born again."
"And Albion?"
"My Lord," Galahad's reproving voice answered this time. "Do you not understand? Your legacy was never to be forged in stone; it lay neither with land nor property. Your legacy is made immortal with the Queen. Guinevere is Albion."
Arthur's head swam with their words until Kilgarrah spoke again.
"Redeem her name, Pendragon, and you will know what salvation really is."
Arthur blinked and as he opened his eyes, he saw that he was once again back in Morgana's office—only this time he was alone. Merlin, Kilgarrah, and Galahad were gone.
Arthur took a deep breath and withdrew the gold band he had kept in his pocket for the past two weeks, a reminder of the love he promised Guinevere long ago. A reminder that he was once the most fortunate man on earth.
He held the ring in his hand before slipping it back into the pocket of his trousers. He looked at his watch, it was still early in the day and he knew where he would find Guinevere.
He prayed for strength, hoping that she would hear him out one last time.
