Chapter 2: The Black Sheep
Morgana smiled at Mordred, poking teasingly at the dimple in his cheek before she led him out into the foyer. A tall, brutish-looking man with a clawed pelt hugging his armored shoulders strode forward to meet them. He was nearly twice Mordred's height with such a sturdy, muscular build that he barely looked human. He bowed his shaggy, gray head to Morgana, willfully ignoring the boy's presence.
"My Lady, the mine has been breached. I have sent reinforcements to counter the uprising, but we do not yet know how the slaves were armed," the brute reported, shooting a patently distrustful look at Mordred. Mordred met his eye, unflinching, his neutral mask back in place.
"Arthur. He and that servant of his sneaked into the mines, predictable as ever. He always did have problems letting go of those who agreed with him," Morgana supplied half to herself, not seeming to notice their confrontation. "Ready the rest of the men, I want all exits secured before we arrive." The other soldiers vanished from sight, eager to please their Priestess. She looked up to see Mordred and her Knight still eying each other. "Oh. Mordred, this is Sir Melwas. You see Melwas? It seems that you are not so infallible as we thought. Mordred has returned to us, alive and well."
Melwas inclined his head respectfully to the Druid, "Forgive me, My Lord. I have underestimated you."
"I hold no title."
"Soon enough," Melwas replied cryptically, drawing a cocky smirk from Morgana.
"It is good to know that you are usually correct," she remarked, ushering Mordred toward the courtyard. "Come along, Mordred. We'll stop by to loose the wolves on our way. You cannot imagine how your little pup has grown."
Melwas caught his Lady's arm before she could follow Mordred out into the courtyard. "Tread with caution, Milady. I sense great change on the horizon. There is a powerful magic in the air. I have not sensed its like since you were but a babe in your mother's arms."
"Emrys..." Morgana whispered anxiously. Melwas met her eyes before looking past her at the boy waiting in the snowy courtyard. The Priestess followed her Knight's gaze to her son and felt her heartbeat quicken. The old warrior released his grip and retreated, calling for the remaining guards to follow him to the inner passage. Morgana watched, frozen in fear for a second, then turned and ran out into the courtyard.
"Mordred," she almost shouted, grabbing his hand in hers and leading him away. Morgana wrestled herself into some semblance of composure as she led him towards the wolves' hut. "Let's not dawdle."
"What is it?"
"We have much to do," she deflected, too lost in her own frantic scheming to remember how pointless it was to try to deceive him. "I will make Arthur pay for what he's done. We'll just release the wolves, then go."
"Morgana, what's wrong?" Mordred persisted, as she continued basically to drag him to the far side of the courtyard. She didn't answer. "What did he say to you? Morgana, you're hurting me!"
Morgana turned back to face him, a few paces short of the wolves' hut. Her gaze flitted distractedly over his face and she loosened her grip. "I'm sorry." She stepped closer and brushed his hair out of his face, giving him a shallow smile. He could feel the fear and rage bleeding out of her skin upon contact. "No need to fear. You will be safe with me, Little Lamb. I'll make certain of it." Mordred could see the madness flash through her eyes. There was something feral and predatory lying in wait just beneath the surface, and he was afraid that he would not be able to calm it in time. "Now..." Morgana backed away to rest her hand on the doorlatch to the wolves' pen, the monster receding in favor of playful teasing. "I think there is someone who is just dying to see you again. Ready?" As soon as Mordred began to smile, Morgana released the latch and whistled. A stampede of black and white canines rushed out of their pen to join their Mistress. Mordred recognized his no-longer-little-pup's mismatched brown and gold eyes as soon as he hit the snow.
"Bran!"
The wolf let out a startled huff, and turned away from the others gathered around Morgana to face the newcomer. Mordred reached out with his magic to feel the animal's mind just as he had as a child. Bran calmed and sniffed the air, watching him crouch down on his knees, arms spread in anticipation. Bran let out a little questioning sound. Then he bounded into Mordred's waiting arms in enthusiastic welcome, licking his Master's face and shoving his nose under his collar to sniff him thoroughly, tail wagging.
Morgana watched the reunion with warmth in her sad eyes, absently toying with the iron latch that she was still leaning against. The fond expression slipped off her face as she looked down at it, replaced by calculation.
"Yes. I know... I- Alright! I missed you too," Mordred murmured, wrestling the slobbering snout away from his mouth. "Wait. Where are you going?"
Morgana spun on her heel to look back at him. She had already made it partway across the courtyard without making a sound. Mordred rose to his feet. He did not like the look on her face at all.
"I'm sorry." She sent him flying back into the shed with a wave of her hand. Mordred picked himself up off of the bale of hay where she had deposited him and tried to run back out.
"No!" Morgana shut and latched the door with another gesture, and Mordred didn't hesitate to slam himself against the barrier once, then twice. Not bothering to hide his feelings of betrayal.
"What are you doing? Let me out!"
"It is safer this way," Morgana replied, the madness overtaking her once more. "I will be done with him soon enough. Only then will we truly be free."
"No. No!" In his panic Mordred had read the theme of the madwoman's thoughts. Worse, the flickering haze around her was gaining strength, fed by the promise of more bloodshed. If he didn't find a way to stop her now, there would be nothing that he could do to save them. "Let me out! Let me help you! I need to help!"
The High Priestess had already turned her back on him, making haste towards her mines. Her guilty conscience was causing her to block him out. Brilliant.
Merlin followed Arthur and Gwaine at a more cautious pace through the torchlit caves and out of the abandoned stretch of mine. They had found Gwaine hiding in the dark alongside a... thing. It was a magical being of a sort that Merlin had never seen or heard of before. Gwaine insisted that it was harmless and that it had saved his life. Arthur had stared incredulously at it and let it run off. Although, it was hard to tell whether this was an act of mercy on his part, or if he'd simply been too nonplussed to chase it. That wasn't what was bothering Merlin anyway. Things never went this smoothly for them, especially considering that they were currently going up against Morgana. She knew them. The High Priestess was bound to have a few more nasty tricks up her sleeve. So where was she and w- Merlin's head snapped up. The mine around them was dead silent. Where is everyone?
"Wait," he stated firmly, stopping Gwaine and Arthur in their tracks. Both turned to look questioningly at him. "This is wrong. The Saxons, where have they all gone?"
Arthur scoffed, but Sir Gwaine looked to be considering the servant's words.
"First there are too many, now there aren't enough," Arthur dismissed. "Are you ever happy, Merlin?" He strode past Gwaine, holding the torch out in front of him, undaunted. Gwaine took a little longer to shrug it off, giving Merlin the chance to push past them, and therefore missing the relevance of the flickering torchlight.
"What was that?" Merlin persevered.
"What?" Arthur snapped. A bigger breeze blew past, warping the flames too much for anyone to miss. Merlin stopped, tilting his head as if to pinpoint the source through hearing alone.
"Feel the wind."
A loud hiss sounded from the tunnel beyond.
"That wasn't the wind," Gwaine noted gravely. Arthur was slowly creeping towards his manservant with his eyes locked on the dark shape coming towards them out of the shadows. A roar reverberated through the air. The shape was clarifying into a serpentine figure as it rushed towards them. Arthur surged forward and grabbed Merlin, throwing his torch at the beast as he yanked his servant back the way they'd come. They each ducked under one of Gwaine's arms and fled with him into a small alcove to hide while the creature surged past.
"Was that really what I think it was?" Gwaine questioned.
"Where did Morgana get a dragon from!?" Arthur demanded of no one in particular.
"I have no idea," Merlin lied, weighing his options. He wasn't likely to get another chance to investigate. Besides he could hardly risk revealing himself to be a Dragonlord should she decide to double back and attack them. "Get Gwaine back to Percival. I'll lure the dragon the other way."
Both his friends looked at him as though he had just declared himself to be Queen of the Sidhe.
"Merlin, I have always known you to be stupid, but even you are not that stupid," Arthur replied, turning back to Gwaine to discuss their actual plan.
"No, really, I am that stupid, and if you don't believe me, watch," and with that Merlin was off like a shot before Arthur could manage to grab him.
"Merlin!" Arthur sighed and pulled himself upright. "I'm going after him."
Mordred knelt down on the other side of the latch and raised his hand. "Unlūcan." A shimmer of light passed over the latch and diffused into a harmless, shimmering wisp. Mordred blew out a breath and let his forehead fall against the wood. Of course, Morgana knew that he wouldn't want to sit and wait, so she had blocked his magic. Mordred knocked his head against the wood, feeling the despair sink in. A canine whine answered from the other side and he heard a wolf sniffing, and shuffling about. Mordred sat up straighter. "Bran?"
A responding puff of breath from the wolf confirmed his guess to be true. Bran never handled barriers between them very well. His original purpose had been to keep Mordred safe while Morgana wasn't around.
"What are you still doing here?" Mordred asked, probing the animal's recent memories. Morgana had stationed his wolf here to guard him once more. Against what? Never mind. One problem at a time. Mordred used the wolf's eyes to take a good look at the latch. It was sturdily made, but simple enough to release from the outside. Unfortunately, it looked to be made of pure iron, which explained why magic wasn't an option. Mordred turned and sat back against the door, hearing Bran lie down on the other side. "Think. You've been trapped before. There is always another way out. Find it." Mordred turned his head and smirked at the fireplace at the far side of the hut. "She thinks that she knows me so well."
Merlin followed Aithusa's wild hisses and growls to a tunnel jutting off to the left, a good distance away from the others. Aithusa crouched down, roaring at him. Merlin flinched but stepped closer, regardless, as soon as he'd recovered from his surprise. She let out an uncertain whine, watching him tentatively. Merlin walked out to stand in front of her. "Aithusa."
She spat fire at him, but he easily deflected it keeping his hand raised to block her frightened outbursts.
He scolded her in Dragon's Tongue but instantly felt guilty when all she did in response was whimper and limp a step closer to him. "What happened?"
She whimpered again, growling softly.
"Who did this to you?" Merlin asked, leaning down to match her eye level. "I won't harm you."
She just let out another pitiful growl.
"What does that mean?" Then Merlin stilled, feeling his veins fill with ice. "You can't speak."
"Merlin!" Arthur's voice called from nearby.
"You have to run," Merlin warned the young dragon.
Aithusa shook her head, clearly not wanting to leave her kin behind.
"Go!" Merlin insisted. They could hear Arthur running towards them. Merlin shouted firmly to Aithusa in Dragon's Tongue and she slunk away unhappily. At least he wouldn't have to see Arthur try to kill her.
Arthur stopped to consider a fork in the cave, uncertain of which way to turn. "Merlin?" After further contemplation he went with the tunnel on his left, as it looked vaguely more abused. "Merlin?" he called again. So help me, if that idiot has gone and gotten himself killed! "Merlin?"
A way behind him, Morgana prowled after him, smirking to herself but turned sharply towards the magical presence running up behind her. She raised her hand to strike only to drop it to her side when she recognized him, her eyes bulging in fury. "Mordred!" she scolded in a harsh whisper.
"There you are," Mordred greeted with the hint of a smile, pausing to lean against the wall and catch his breath.
"Keep your voice down! You cannot be here!" Morgana scolded.
Mordred looked around them, then down at himself, before meeting her eyes with mock-incredulity.
"There is no time to argue over this! Get back to the Keep."
"No."
"Mordred!" Morgana snapped, then a thought occured to her. "Where's Bran?"
"...back in the Keep."
"Stop smirking, and do as I say. This is no time for your games!"
Arthur's voice echoed from farther into the mine. "Merlin, is that you?"
There was a beat of silence.
"Morgana. Do we have time to argue, or do we not?" Mordred asked more quietly, straightening up to favor her with a questioning expression.
"You will stay behind me," Morgana ordered through clenched teeth.
"I promise," Mordred agreed.
"And wipe that soot off your face. You look like a peasant," Morgana ordered. She'd never gotten cross with him before, just snippy. It was a relief to see that the rule still applied. They followed the sound of Arthur's voice. Morgana was already smirking in enjoyment, while Mordred tried to figure out a way to alert the King to their presence without her noticing or being endangered by it. In the end it didn't really matter. He was virtually trapped, regardless.
"Merlin?" Arthur called one last time before Morgana stepped out of the shadows behind him.
"How good of you to save me the trouble of finding you," she remarked.
Arthur reached for his sword, only to remember that he'd given it to Percival.
"Oh, dear. How remiss of you," Morgana taunted. "Your bravery is only matched by your stupidity. What on Earth did you think you would gain from coming here?"
Arthur turned to look at her, but his gaze drifted instead to the stoic teenager standing behind her left shoulder. Arthur returned his sister's smirking stare with an equally stoic mask. "I had to free my men."
Morgana chuckled. Then lifted her hand; a dagger flew out from under her furs to embed itself in Arthur's shoulder. He fell to the ground with a grunt of pain while the dagger flew back up into the air to hover threateningly above him. "This time it seems there really is no way out."
"What our father did to you, I truly am sorry about that," Arthur groaned out, pushing himself up into a seated position.
"Uther was never my father," Morgana spat.
"But we are brother and sister."
"Funny how you choose to remember that with my dagger at your back," Morgana sneered.
Arthur shook his head, rising to face her. "What happened to you, Morgana? As a child you were always so kind. So compassionate."
"I grew up." The witch sent her dagger into his unwounded shoulder, knocking him onto his back.
Mordred flinched, his hand twitching upward as if to grab Morgana's cloak, but neither of the others seemed to notice.
"You are right to cower before my hand," she continued. "I am more powerful than you could ever imagine."
"Yet all you choose to do is hate," Arthur countered, sounding disappointed rather than intimidated.
Morgana smiled coldly. "Uther taught me well."
"My Lady," Mordred rested a hand on her arm, ignoring the way that his skin vanished from his sight under the pulsing aura of thick, grey fog that warped and twitched as it gained substance. Only he could see it and this was no time to be squeamish. They had almost reached the point of no return.
"You want to help me, Mordred?" Morgana's affectionate tone had become warped and sickly sweet, overshadowed by her cruel actions.
"This isn't-" Mordred began, still uncertain of how he was going to counteract her vengeful high.
Merlin came running into the cavern from a connecting tunnel, shouting, "Arthur!"
Mordred drew the knife out of his sleeve as Morgana hurled the warlock back into the wall with a wave of invisible force. Mordred heard the sickening crack and watched Merlin desperately struggle to keep his eyes open as he slumped.
Morgana smirked at him. "I told you: you're safe with me."
Mordred looked up at her, torn, but she had already turned away to continue tormenting her brother. It was almost over now. He had to stop it, but how could he? There were no words, no spells that could stop her now. Her soul and his fate were unfurling before his eyes while he just stood there and watched. Mordred looked down at the knife in his hand and swallowed. He could stop this.
"Morgana... please," Arthur implored her as Mordred stepped up behind her. She pinned the King down with her magic.
"Don't speak, Dear Brother," she began to recite the incantation that would spell his gruesome end. Mordred shoved the knife into her back, trying not to puncture anything vital. "N-no..." Morgana choked out. She let out a broken little moan as Mordred lowered her to the floor, twisting in his arms to stare up at him, eyes pleading. Mordred couldn't look away. His mouth had gone dry, and he wasn't sure if he was even breathing anymore.
"I am so very sorry..." Mordred knew that the admission didn't really matter. He doubted that Morgana would ever forgive him let alone understand why he'd done what he had just done, but it was truly how he felt.
"Mordred?" She gasped out, heartbroken, before she succumbed to unconsciousness. Mordred stared at her for a moment, then crossed over to haul Arthur to his feet. As he was hooking Arthur's arm over his shoulders, Mordred caught sight of a spidery mass of flickering, greyish haze over his own forearm spreading faintly to the back of his knuckles. He squeezed his eyes shut and forced himself to ignore it. He had known the risk full well. There was no going back. He focused on getting Arthur back to his people.
Merlin blinked blearily awake to find the strange glowing creature who'd saved Gwaine now leaning over him. Its luminous hands were on his chest and head, healing him.
"Emrys," it greeted pleasantly in that ancient, raspy voice.
"Where's Arthur?"
The creature smiled. "He is safe, for now. The boy has returned him to his knights' care."
"Mordred," Merlin inferred darkly.
"Yes," the creature seemed amused by his response.
"I'm sorry. You've lived here hidden for so long, and now..."
"The Priestess has spent so much energy and risked so much in search of something that few wise men would ever want."
"The Diamere," Merlin inferred.
"Yes."
"That's you, isn't it? You live with all that knowledge... Sometimes I can feel the weight of my own destiny threatening to crush me, but that is nothing compared to what you must go through," Merlin reflected.
"It is both a blessing, and a curse," the Diamere agreed. "So, Great Warlock, do you have a question for me?"
"No thanks," Merlin said, noticing the creature's approval as it began to turn away. Too bad he couldn't stick to his instincts. This chance was too tempting. "Wait. No, I do."
The Diamere turned back to look at him.
"If Mordred isn't Arthur's Bane, then who is?"
"Himself," the Diamere answered with exceding clarity. Must everyone question my intelligence?
The Diamere looked towards the far entrance to the cavern and smiled knowingly down at him. "I will leave you in good hands, then," it remarked and scampered off as a familiar, darkly clad teenager jogged into view.
"Mordred?"
"Oh good, you aren't dead," the Druid replied, giving Morgana's limp form on the ground a wide berth on his way to meet him.
"I thought that you were with Arthur," Merlin grunted as he pulled himself upright, using a rocky outcropping rather than accepting the hand offered.
"I was. He's safe with his men," Mordred assured him. "I thought that you might need help."
"I'm fine," Merlin answered with a little more force than he had consciously intended.
Mordred just looked at him.
"This way, I suppose?" Merlin said, stepping around Morgana halfheartedly on his way to the tunnel her ex-ward had recently exited. Mordred nodded and followed after him, but they both stopped short on the next step; two flailing, screaming men were hurled into view like rejected ragdolls from the other end of the tunnel, accompanied by a deep, reverberating yell.
Mordred grabbed Merlin's sleeve and tugged him back towards the other tunnel. "This way."
"Why?" Merlin interrogated, lagging behind.
Mordred spun round to face him. Merlin was sure that he was about to get an earful, but instead he was patiently informed by the soft-spoken Druid: "There is a secret passage that leads into the palace propper. Melwas is a powerful sorcerer, Emrys, and though I am certain that you could best him should the need arise, you belong at Arthur's side."
Merlin whipped his head around to see the massive silhouette marching towards them out of the shadows. "Lead the way."
Mordred dragged him towards the hidden exit as fast as they both could run. Unfortunately, Melwas had charged after them once he saw the state they'd left Morgana in. He was close behind them when Mordred coaxed the door open with a well-practiced gesture and a prayer in his native tongue. The giant's shadow was already prowling around the corner, preceding its deadly owner. The Druid shoved his Messiah through the doorway.
"Quickly. Try to avoid the internal patrols. They'll be marching in pairs," he advised, grabbing the door with intent to seal it between them. Merlin blocked it open with his forearm.
"What do you think you're doing?"
"Giving you enough time to escape." Mordred tried to push the door shut but Merlin didn't budge. "Emrys!"
"Have you gone mad?!" Merlin argued, stealing a glance at the approaching Melwas over Mordred's shoulder.
"Not yet," Mordred replied, with an oddly sardonic note. He locked eyes with Merlin, knowing even before the attempt just how fleeting his influence on the warlock's thoughts would be. "We both know that your life is worth far more than mine. Leave now. Protect our King."
Merlin found himself at the other end of the hidden passageway with a Mordred shaped hole where his memory of the last few seconds ought to be. The seal on the door at the far end of the passageway had roused him from his trance when it clunked shut. Merlin glared at it only to jump, startled by a painful-sounding slam.
On the other side of the door, Melwas surged forward, tackling Mordred's much smaller body into the metal door hard enough to make the boy's vision white out for a second. Melwas took advantage of the momentary stunned state to grab him round the middle and hurl him into the tunnel wall on their right. Melwas tried the door only to find it locked. He pressed his hand to the engraving to release the seal.
"No!" Mordred stumbled to his feet and charged, dropping his shoulder to ram the larger man under the ribs. Melwas moved to knee him in the chest but he pulled back out of the way. Mordred lifted his palm.
"Bærne!" His fireball missed the other man's ducking head by a hairsbreadth.
"Beswencan!" Melwas countered with a spell that Mordred didn't recognize, sending a formless flash of glowing, gray vapor into his throat. Pain screamed through his nerves everywhere the substance touched. He struggled to remain upright until the light dissipated, not even noticing his own strangled cry.
Melwas swept his sword down to gut him while he was crippled.
Mordred dodged it, having picked the movement up from his opponent's mind before it could be enacted, and grabbed the larger warrior's forearm in a vise-like grip.
In the passageway, another type of battle was going on in Merlin's head.
"Just leave him. This is your chance. He told you to leave him behind," Merlin urged himself, remembering Kilgarrah's warnings. "No one will blame you, and he can't be Arthur's Bane if he's dead." There was a crash, punctuated by a cry of pain from Mordred, followed by the unmistakable snap of breaking bone, and a gutteral shout of "Die, you little bastard!" Merlin flinched, remembering the phrasing of Mordred's magically-assisted command. "I have to get back to Arthur." He forced himself to turn his back on the mines. He already hated himself for abandoning the boy, again, as he ran towards the dark stairway up ahead.
Mordred swept a leg under Melwas, knocking him onto his back. He grabbed the sword out of the sorcerer's faltering grip and pointed it at his throat, only to see the old warrior's eyes flash with powerful magic. He slammed his huge fists down on the floor of the mine, shouting another strange spell. The mine trembled, sending chunks of wall and ceiling tumbling down on their heads. Mordred ducked out of the way of a massive piece of ceiling that would've crushed his head like a walnut, and lay on the floor with his arms shielding the back of his head. The instant that the quaking ceased, he scrambled for the fallen sword.
Melwas grabbed his leg and dragged him away, knocking him against heaps of rubble as he went. The giant seemed to have spoiled his own luck by fighting dirty, though. He tripped on a loose shard of wall and fell to his knees. He tried to retain the advantage by swinging Mordred up into the wall, but the ex-thief twisted in his grip, using the momentum to wrap his legs around the larger man's neck. He kept a merciless, strangling, grip until the warrior's flailing limbs went still and his dark eyes fell shut. The Druid lay there for a moment, recovering his strength as much as he could despite the the thick dust cloud in the air. Then he pushed himself upright, grabbed the sword and left.
Merlin crept through the eerily silent coridor into what appeared to be Morgana's unexpectedly abandoned dining room. A half-eaten supper for two was still set out on the table, as if the High Priestess and her guest might return at any moment to finish it. He wandered over to inspect the lines of symbols carved into the apple, absently mouthing the meaning while he worked out the translation. Boy love, boy love illusion...
"Ah. He loves me, he loves me not," he muttered under his breath, setting the apple back in its place.
"I see that you've made it this far without incident."
Merlin nearly jumped out of his skin, whirling to face the unexpected company standing in the doorway behind him. He'd been feeling that he was being watched ever since he'd left the passage, but the sudden confirmation wasn't reassuring.
"I didn't mean to startle you," Mordred apologized, sort of. He was secretly amused that the Great All-Powerful Emrys had not yet discovered his lupine shadow watching them from under the table.
"You're alive," was Merlin's intelligent response. He wasn't sure whether to be relieved or cross. Although, it occured to him that even as a child, Mordred had always had that effect on him.
"The courtyard is this way," Mordred walked away, beckoning for him to follow. "We'll need to look out for-" Mordred grabbed Merlin by the shoulders and shoved him behind a column, holding his sword at the ready.
"What is it?" Merlin whispered.
"Someone's here." Mordred closed his eyes and reached out with his magic, searching their surroundings for the source of the threat. The enemy's mind was too elusive to belong to a mere guard. It was someone who had trained their mind to resist Clairvoyants. Someone powerful.
The click of paws on the stone floor broke the tense silence. A silver wolf with mismatched eyes trotted over to the end of the hall at Mordred's back. He saw Merlin standing close at his Master's side and growled menacingly.
"It's a wolf!" Merlin exclaimed, pressing back against the column as far as he could.
"Bran, sit," Mordred instructed, without bothering to open his eyes. Bran obediently complied, continuing to monitor Merlin's every movement.
"Did you just order a wolf to sit down?"
"Yes. There's another sorcerer here somewhere. I can't determine their exact location."
"You always find me," Merlin said with a frown.
"You're not trained to resist my influence. No one has bothered with that practice since the Purge."
"Oh..."
Mordred opened his eyes and noticed the warlock's calculating look. "Yes, I will teach you if we both make it out of here alive."
"I wasn't going to ask," Merlin said guiltily. "Come on. We have to get out of here. I doubt that they're trained against my magic."
Bran stood up and let out a questioning howl.
"No," Mordred corrected, ignoring the imploring tilt of his loyal pet's head staring after them.
Merlin glanced back as they rounded the corner. "What's wrong with it?"
"Morgana directed Bran to guard me after she left to face Arthur. She hasn't rescinded it yet," Mordred explained. "He won't pose a threat to you so long as you do me no harm, at least until she gives him a new purpose."
"She can do that?"
"He was already my pet once. It's hardly difficult to make him do something that he already wants to do."
They made it to the front entrance with little opposition. Merlin merely manipulated the air around them with his magic, sweeping aside the few guards they did run into and locking them in adjacent rooms. Their stalker didn't strike until they'd reached the front doors. Merlin strode out into the snowy courtyard with Mordred only a few paces behind. The heavy oak doors slammed shut in Mordred's face, causing Merlin to jump. His eyes flickered over the sobering scene of scattered corpses in the mostly deserted courtyard feeling dread twisting in his gut.
"Mordred?" Merlin ran back over to the entrance. The doors wouldn't budge so he slammed his fist against the wood. "Mordred? Answer me!"
On the other side, Mordred raised his sword and turned to face the other sorcerer. "He's here," he called to Merlin.
"Harbinger," Melwas spat. "Did you think that I would let you go so easily? You, the betrayer!"
In the background Merlin was still calling to Mordred and banging on the door, but they both ignored him.
"You've recovered quickly," Mordred noted, refusing to acknowledge the sting of the other man's insults. "Especially for a man as old as you must be."
"My magic is strong. Strong enough to end your cursed existence for the good of us all."
"Mordred! Release the bolt!" Merlin shouted, frustrated.
"Goodbye, Emrys," Mordred replied, answering Melwas' grin with a stoic nod. They locked in battle. Mordred used only his sword while the warrior used both his knife and several destructive spells to try and either burn him to death or blast him to pieces.
"Ābeatān!" Melwas bellowed and Mordred barely ducked under his reaching fist in time. A blast of concussive force surged past him, causing his ears to pop on its way to obliterate the stone carving that adorned the top of the door. Mordred tried to stab Melwas in the stomach. He blocked the blade with his dagger and kicked Mordred hard in his chest. Mordred dropped to the floor coughing. The sword slipped out of his hand. Melwas extended an arm towards him. "Bærne!"
A gray blur surged through the air to tackle him, knocking the deadly spell off course so that it set fire to a molding wall hanging instead. Bran dug his teeth into Melwas' arm and shook the limb wildly. Melwas let out a cry of pain and threw the little animal off of him to bounce off the wall. Mordred tried to grab his sword off the stone tiles but a massive boot stomped down on the blade. Melwas raised his dagger to make the killing strike. The double doors exploded inwards, knocking the giant off his feet. Two in a row, Mordred thought to himself, barely believing his luck. Merlin marched forward to stand over him.
"Emrys," Mordred gasped out, sounding baffled. "You've just saved my life."
Melwas began to get up. Merlin stamped his foot, driving the stone to ripple almost like water under his will, the floor cracking loudly under the force of his magic. The warrior bounced up into the air and smacked his head against the side of the archway.
"Now I have," Merlin agreed as the gold faded from his eyes. He offered his not-quite-enemy a hand up. "I decided that I shouldn't encourage this suicidal habit of yours."
"I..." Mordred seemed to be dazed by the rare display of Emrys' true power. The sound of a soft whine from the corner snapped him out of it."He threw Bran!" he exclaimed and hurried over to check on his pet.
A/N: So, what'd you think? We'll be leaving canon behind for a while(hooray!) I hope Merlin's sympathy for Mordred-though different- isn't too jarring. I just feel in this time, he might be affected, if only subliminally by Arthur's search. Even if he doesn't know who Mordred is yet. Anyway, thank you for reading this. Special thanks to JarvisAI for the kind review. Feedback is most welcome!