Disclaimer: I do not own Angel the Series or Merlin (BBC). Ownership resides with the respective owners, which is probably multiple separate groups and persons for each.

The Ruins of My Kingdom To Come

By Alkeni

Chapter 5: Dangerous Power

"Show our guests to rooms," Uther ordered Merlin, then paused a moment. "The East Wing."

"Yes, My lord." Merlin said, and then turned to Wesley and the Lady Illyria. "If you will both follow me..."

"Of course," Wesley nodded. Illyria said nothing, but followed Merlin out of the throne room. Still, the woman unnerved him. Not just for her behavior and appearance, but also because of the power he could feel almost boiling . . . boiling? He paused his thoughts at his choice of metaphor, and nodded. Yes. Boiling. Strangely apt to describe the sensation he felt in regards to the power she was putting off. It was. . . like magic, but not. But it was. But not. And there was so much of it. He had the distinct feeling that whatever it was that had brought them here, they weren't 'enemies' of magic, though it wasn't impossible to believe that they had used magic against others who could also use magic. Fighting those with magic was something he'd had to do, to try and protect Arthur, and even Uther – despite himself, he sometimes wondered why it was that he thought Uther actually deserved protecting.

Though it wasn't very hard to figure out. If Uther died because of magic, then Arthur will have a real, concrete reason to hate it, rather than simply because it was his father's will and he knew no other way. Still...

As they walked through the Castle to the East Wing, the two talked in that same strange language they had spoken between themselves earlier. He couldn't help but wonder what it is that the two of them were saying. Whatever it was, they clearly didn't want him or anyone else passing by to hear and understand what it was they were saying.

There must be a spell that can let me understand what they are saying. Merlin couldn't help but be suspicious. Two people arrived at Camelot under false pretenses, and one of them is throwing off enough power to give him a headache. There was no rule that said they were plotting something nefarious, but if they weren't, he'd eat his neckerchief.

Part of him wanted to ask the Great Dragon for advice . . . but he couldn't trust anything that creature had to say, under any circumstances. Whatever these two were up to, whatever form the Lady Illyria's power took, he could handle it on his own.

Finally, they reached the chambers in question. The two rooms were right across the hallway from each other. "The keys so you can lock or unlock your rooms are inside," he said. "If you need something, there's a bell inside each room so you can ring for one of the servants."

"If you're the Prince's servant, why are you the one showing us here?" Wesley asked suddenly.

"Because I was on hand and you don't say no to the King." Someone came around the hall towards them - "Morgana?" There was . . . an almost scared look on the young woman's face, one he hadn't seen . . . hadn't seen since the two Sidhe had been in Camelot, and she'd had the dreams of Sophia trying to drown Arthur. Had she had another prophetic dream? About the new arrivals?

If they're here to hurt Arthur...

"Are these our new guests that I heard Arthur mention?" Morgana asked in her usual cool, soft tone.

"Yes," Merlin answered. He gestured to them in turn. "The Lady Illyria, of Los Angeles, and Wesley Wyndam-Pryce, her guide."

"And scholar," Wesley supplied. "And I assume from what Merlin said as you approached, your name is Morgana?"

"Lady Morgana, the King's Ward," Merlin supplied.

"My apologies." Wesley bowed slightly. Illyria made no such motion, and he saw Morgana glaring at the God-King. For his part, Wesley assumed it was because Illyria had made no motion of respect for her station as a noblewoman and Ward of the King.

Merlin knew the reality: Morgana had a dream, or vision. She knew something about Illyria, or at least believed she did.

Morgana nodded. "A pleasure. Merlin, may I have a word?" The young warlock nodded, and looked to Wesley and Illyria. "Is there anything else?"

Wesley shook his head. "No." Illyria answered. They went into one of the rooms, closing and locking the door behind them, and spoke in quiet tones, once more in that strange language of theirs.

"What's wrong?" Merlin asked Morgana, turning away from the locked door.

"Why would you think something's wrong."

"Morgana, I've known you long enough to know when you think something is wrong. Its all over your face, and you're not making that much of an effort to hide it."

"I'm not that easy to read." Morgana insisted.

"When you're lying to Arthur, no, you're not. But then again, Arthur is too thick to notice when almost anyone is lying to him."

Despite herself, Morgana laughed at that. Then her expression returned to its previous grave and worried state. "What can you tell me about them?"

"Not that much. Arthur was out hunting, and I was with him. We heard voices up ahead in a clearing, and found them there, talking in whatever language that is. Initially, they were acting like only he – Wesley – could speak like us. Part way through the conversation, she stopped using him as a translator." It dawned on him. She must have used some kind of spell to allow her to speak our language. Maybe there was a delay between casting it and it going into effect. He continued. "They say that they're from some place called Los Angeles, far to the south. That they were driven from there by a group of three sorcerers, long time threats to Los Angeles, and have been moving north since." He paused a moment. "They were beset by bandits a few days ago, they say, losing their supplies and the rest of Lady Illyria's retainers in the process."

"Anything else?" Morgana asked slowly.

"Why do you-?" Merlin started, hoping to get her to mention the dream she had to have had.

"Just humor me for a minute Merlin. Please."

Merlin nodded. "She's...stiff. Aloof. There's just something strange about her. I mean, apart from the hair. Wesley has a sword that...folds, in his sleeve. He flicks his wrist and it just comes out." He paused a moment, trying to think of something more, but shook his head. "Morgana, what is wrong?"

"I had a dream...before they got here. And this...Lady Illyria was in it. She was using magic, Merlin. Fighting someone else with it...some woman...she had blonde hair...I didn't recognize her. But I didn't recognize the- Illyria. Because I hadn't seen her. But it was her. The blue hair, the face, the...the red armor. But I'd never seen her before." The look of terror in Morgana's eyes scared Merlin with its intensity.

"That boy. His power is dangerous to me." Illyria paused. "Correction. Could be dangerous to me. To this shell."

"He is Merlin, one of the most powerful wizards in history." Wesley pointed out. "It seems hardly surprising that he might be a threat to you, in your diminished state."

"You are gloating. Stop it. It is unfitting for my Qwa'ha Xahn to gloat at my misfortune and weakness."

"In your current state, you could be killed purely by swords, or arrows." Wesley continued. As he spoke, he walked further into the room, approaching the open window – and wrinkling his nose once he got too close. Quickly, he closed the window and turned back to face Illyria.

"It is possible yes, but were one actively seeking ways to kill me, the damage I could be dealt by swords wouldn't kill me faster than I could kill whomever it was that as attacking me. But that young wizard. Merlin. Were he to exercise enough of his power, he could kill me. Damage this shell too much that I would not be able to heal myself before it died – and with its death, my essence would be without protection in a world now hostile to it. My final death would be within seconds, if I could not find a new host." Illyria walked over to the window and opened it up.

"I like the view from this window. These shall be my chambers." She declared after a moment.

"You don't need to sleep." Wesley pointed out.

"True. But as you say, I must maintain a charade of humanity. Thus, I must appear to sleep, or at least allow others to think I do. I shall likely use the time to practice."

"Practice what? You hardly need to develop muscle memory for anything. I'm quite confident you don't even have muscles, technically speaking."

"Once, I could work powerful magic. I must determine if I can continue to do so in this shell, especially in my diminished state. Given the state of things, I must develop my use of magic through this form. It will be different to use hands and fingers."