Disclaimer: I don't own Angel, I don't own Merlin. Moving right along.

Thanks to my beta, deitclast

The Ruins of My Kingdom to Come

By Alkeni

Chapter 13: Lancelot, Finally

As much as Arthur had wanted to demand answers as to what on earth Illyria and Wesley were up to, he'd had enough sense to not do it right then. If he'd stopped to argue before putting distance between him and Camelot, then it would be too likely that the guards would stop him – or catch him.

But now there was distance between the five of them and Camelot. And really, five? It was already unwieldy at three, but he could hardly prevent Morgana from coming, given that...well, it was Gwen. But these two – they had no reason to be here, apart from an apparent homicidal mania on the part of Illyria.

Arthur had met people who simply enjoyed killing – in time of war, it wasn't unheard of for even his father to hire mercenaries or soldiers to supplement the knights and standing forces of the Kingdom, if need be. Most of them were simply swords-for-hire, in it for the money, though usually with at least a modicum of honor. But others were merely bloodthirsty men, interested only in killing for its own sake, taking up the art of war to serve as an excuse.

To kill was never a good thing – often necessary, or better than the alternative – but to revel in it, actively seek it...and that it was a woman possessed of such a view...

Of course, that was assuming both Illyria and Wesley were in fact speaking the truth about their motivations, which was hardly guaranteed. They were up to something – but they didn't seem to be in league, per se. Sworn man or not, Wesley showed little regard for Illyria as a liege, for all that Illyria in turn considered him a servant.

Regardless, now there was a chance to ask, and so ask Arthur would. "Why the hell were you determined to come, Lady Illyria?" Arthur demanded, looking back towards the – walking – Illyria. "This is hardly your fight."

"It isn't exactly yours either, Prince Arthur," Wesley pointed out, riding not far behind Arthur. Illyria, unlike the other four of them, had chosen not to ride on a horse. Mostly because no natural animal would let a being such as Illyria ride upon it. Though it had drawn eyebrows and more from the others, Illyria had shown herself more than capable of keeping up with them and the horses thus far, and showed no signs of tiring.

Illyria herself knew her behavior was drawing attention and questions – but she didn't care. What they thought of her was largely irrelevant. Camelot would not be where she built her Kingdom. Not with a dragon beneath the castle. In time, her new order would absorb Camelot as it would all else, but for now, there was no need in such grand gestures. Champions, such as Arthur, especially the ones that had the support of a powerful warlock, showed an alarming capacity to survive even overwhelming odds. While they were nothing against her, there was no reason to take a gamble when she could simply outlive them. The greatest of rulers were often followed by successors that cast no shadow on those before them, as had been true both among the Old Ones, and, it seemed, among the humans.

"Gwen is – Gwen is my friend." Arthur countered. "Of course it's my fight. And she risked her life to help Morgana escape captivity. I can't just leave her in the hands of Hengist and his men after that."

"But your father doesn't agree." Wesley pointed out calmly. "You are the prince of the realm. Should your life really be risked for but one servant?"

"Gwen is not just a servant!" Morgana countered. Before she could continue to berate Wesley about Gwen, Arthur spoke again.

"The fact that I'm prince only means its even more imperative for me to do this. If I am to be King someday, then I must be King of everyone in Camelot – not just the knights and the nobility. And the people must know that. Besides," he shrugged, "its the right thing to do. And when I have an opportunity to do the right thing, I have to take it, else I'd not be able to live with myself."

Ah, Wesley thought to himself. But you can stand by and let your father execute and persecute people for no real crime in particular? Just because he's afraid of magic? The Watcher didn't know it, but Morgana was thinking thoughts very similar to those – though she understood some things that Wesley didn't.

Arthur wasn't always fully thrilled about the persecutions, the arrests, the executions, for one. And for another, he'd been raised from birth to believe magic as evil. Morgana had experienced much the same, and it was only the revelation that she had magic – and that Merlin had magic – that had finally rid her of that mindset completely.

"Though you weigh your words with the baggage of irrelevant morality, you grasp wisdom you understand not." Illyria commented. "If a servant or follower risks their life for yours, it is only practical to reward such behavior when possible – it encourages repeat performances. Your father is a fool to not recognize that fact."

"You will not insult my father." Arthur spat at the blue-haired woman, his hand falling to his sword hilt almost on instinct.

"Is this really the time Arthur?" Merlin interrupted, trying to calm Arthur down.

"If you draw that sword, expect to use it." Illyria told Arthur grimly. She would back down from no challenge.

"Take back your words against my father." Arthur demanded coldly, hand still on his sword.

"Arthur." Morgana interrupted urgently. "Gwen. She's the priority here." She looked to Illyria a moment, then back to Arthur. "Everything else can wait."

Arthur looked from Morgana to Illyria, then took his hand from the hilt of his sword. He looked Illyria directly in her eyes. "We're not finished." He turned away from her, nudging his horse to start moving again.

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The night had passed, the sun rising over the five as they kept moving – they had had to take a pause eventually, even Arthur. Their horses needed a break, and Merlin had actually fallen out of his saddle asleep some time before Arthur had conceded they needed to stop for a brief rest.

Still, soon enough, they were ready to go on the move again. Arthur had unrolled a map and was looking at it. "The ransom was supposed to be delivered to the Vale of Danaria." Arthur pointed to the vale on the map. "If they're holding Gwen anywhere, it has to be there." He pointed to a castle near the vale. Far enough to keep the hostage away from would be rescuers coming with the ransom, but close enough to deliver her quickly enough once paid. "Which means," Arthur frowned, furrowing his brow, "it'd save a day's riding if we cut through the tunnels of Andor."

Merlin shook his head. "Oh no. I know that face. I'm no going to like this, am I? What's in the tunnels?"

"They're..." He frowned again. "Infested with Wilderin."

"Wilderin?" Wesley dropped his head to lean on his hand, two fingers pressing into his temples. So they really were real. One more council debate solved. And given that Arthur knew about them, the other debate, on if they were a species of demon, was also solved. They were still a few decades out from when demons and vampires first arrived in Albion, in the original history. "Lovely." He sighed.

"How formidable are these Wilderin? By your measure, that is." Illyria asked.

"Not very formidable at all, for you." Wesley answered before Arthur could. "They're large and quite vicious however. They resemble baby rats...except that they're...well, much larger."

"Baby rats? They don't sound so bad..." Merlin started, then immediately regretted it. Saying something like that never turned out well.

"They feast on human flesh." Arthur corrected Merlin. He made his way to some nearby bushes. "Fortunately, they're completely blind. They hunt by smell. So if we smear ourselves with Gaia berries-"

"That's your plan?" Morgana cut in, appalled. "Who's to say that's enough?" That, and she really didn't fancy smelling like Gaia berries for the next day or so, though she would if she had to. It was Gwen.

Arthur didn't back down. "Do you have a better one?" Morgana had no answer to that.

"I do." Illyria countered. She walked by Morgana, pulling the woman's sword from its sheath. "You all stink enough as it is. There is no reason to make it worse."

"What are you-" Morgana tried to get her sword back from Illyria, cursing herself for letting the woman take it in the first place. To no avail. "Give that back."

"You may have it back when I'm done clearing a path through these tunnels." Illyria replied cooly.

"You're insane." Arthur told her, a few Gaia berries in one hand. "You can't go in there and just expect to-"

"She can." Wesley interrupted. "And its her life she's risking, not yours." Wesley started to look at his wrist – a force of habit he'd not completely broken, before letting his arm fall. "Give her half an hour, then we can follow in with your Gaia berry strategy, if you wish." As he said that, Wesley reached for one of the bushes and grabbed a handful of the berries. Confidence in Illyria's skill at killing things was one thing. But caution was never a bad plan.

Besides, Wesley smirked, if it bothers Illyria...well, all the more reason to go for it.

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"I made clear that you did not need to apply such stench atop that which you already reek of." Illyria told Wesley as he, Merlin, Morgana and Arthur washed what they could of the berries off their hands and faces. As promised, Illyria had indeed returned Morgana's sword to her – covered in Wilderin blood, but returned nonetheless.

"You did indeed do a good job at dealing with the Wilderin that crossed your path on the way through the tunnels." Wesley conceded, leaning in and splashing water onto his face. Merlin and Arthur were some distance away, and Morgana was waiting on the rest of them just ahead along the path.

"However," Wesley continued, "you hardly killed all of the Wilderin in the tunnels – which the berries, despite their rather horrid smell, did an excellent job of concealing the four of us from." He splashed water on his face one more time. He'd probably done the best he could do for the moment.

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Finally, as darkness loomed over them once more, they were at Hengist's castle, or at least the one he had taken up residence in for the moment. It was in excellent condition, the walls standing tall and imposing, no easy ways in.

"We'll have to scale the walls." Arthur noted.

"Maybe there's another way in." Merlin suggested. Clearly, he didn't want to try climbing the walls. Not that Wesley blamed him – they wouldn't be easy for anyone to climb, though it looked at least moderately doable.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Why don't you go and knock on the front gate? I'm sure if you ask nicely, they'll hand Guinevere over to you." Merlin bit his tongue at a sarcastic reply – no point. Arthur was right.

"I will-" Illyria started, but Wesley raised a hand, interrupting her – in modern English.

"Illyria, a word? Please?"

Illyria turned to him and responded in the same language, watching the look of annoyance that pass across Merlin's face, and the concern on Morgana's. Arthur for his part was walking towards the wall, looking for a good way up. "What?"

"I know you were going to suggest that you would simply go through the main gates. Might I suggest a less risky course of action?" Wesley was speaking carefully, as he always did when he tried to convince Illyria of anything. He was as fond of his entrails as the next living person, and he quite liked them inside his body.

I don't think she'd tear them out if she got annoyed with me, but as a general rule, I see no reason to take the chance.

"You think mere brigands in the service of a pathetic worm are a threat to me? You, my Qwa'ha Xahn, doubt my power?"

Oh dear. That tone. Wesley spoke slowly, choosing his next words carefully. "It is not your skill in combat that I am concerned about, Illyria." Which wasn't true in the least, he was concerned she would run into more foes than she could handle. "It is the fact that when you do succeed against so many foes you will risk further exposure – Unless you plan on taking on all of Camelot, which you seem to have been disinclined to do thus far."

"I have no care as to the opinions of worms." Illyria replied flatly.

Its not a matter of caring. "Caring is not the issue. Unneeded complications is the issue. Let the prince climb up and lower a rope. The same end will be achieved with no complications to your ability to remain in Camelot – you seem to have been interested in staying there so far, after all."

"Do not presume to know my mind or my intentions." Illyria all but spat. She stayed silent for a few moments, thoughts moving at speeds impossible for a human. "Very well."

Wesley nodded and went to his pack, retrieving a length of rope. "Arthur." He called over to the prince. "Catch." He was back speaking the language of this time, and the prince turned, catching the length of rope that Wesley had thrown him. The prince nodded, coiling it around one arm and letting it rest on his shoulder.

Then, grabbing onto some stones that jutted out from the wall, Arthur began to climb.

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"Release the Wilderin!" A large beast of man, clearly some kind of leader called out. The dining chamber came equipped with a cage dominating one end. There were two prisoners within: Gwen and another man.

"Lancelot?" Morgana recognized the other man. "What is- what is he doing here?"

"You know this man?" So that's Lancelot. I was wondering when he would show up. And of course, he was with Guinevere. Just the way the universe loved to work.

Before Morgana could reply one way or the other, Arthur was already on the move. He'd donned the outfit of one of the bandits in service to Hengist, as had Merlin. Running to the cage, Arthur drew his sword, climbing over and jumping over the top, cutting through Lancelot and Gwen's bindings.

"As good a time as any to-" Before Wesley could even finish that much, Illyria was already on the move. She moved quickly, grabbing onto a nearby foe, punching and shattering his chin and sending the man flying into the wall with a second punch, taking his fallen sword and wading into the melee, using her entire body – not just the sword, or her fists – as a weapon.

Wesley produced his own sword and went at one of Hengist's men, though he was unable to simply kill him so quickly. Morgana moved towards Merlin, on the other end of the room, getting caught up in a sword fight of her own.

Merlin, for his part, without a weapon, watched as Arthur and Lancelot talked while keeping the Wilderin at bay, slicing their weapons into it, keeping it in front of them. Then-

Hengist was leveling a crossbow, aiming for Arthur. Thinking quickly, Merlin looked up – the man was standing right beneath a chandelier. Murmuring a spell, Merlin caused the chain on the chandelier to break – Hengist managed to get away, though another of his men fell to the ground under its weight, but the crossbow was dropped, and Hengist was drawing his sword, making his way for the cage door, Gwen already at the tunnel entrance the Wilderin had come in through.

"After them!" Hengist called, his sword in hand. Only one of his men was able to follow, but right behind that man was Illyria. The leader would be hers.

Blocking a swing by his opponent, Wesley cheated – the stake flew from its holder on his wrist, driving into the bandits' gut. Not caring it his foe lived or died, given that he was incapacitated for the moment, Wesley moved ahead, going for the cage, as Illyria all but ripped the arm off of Hengist's man in the cage with him.

"Merlin!" Arthur called out to his manservant. "Let's go!" Merlin moved, climbing into the cage from the other side across from Wesley, and both were in the cage. Merlin turned towards Morgana as the noblewoman disarmed a foe and cut into his side.

"Morgana!" Leaving her foe behind, Morgana was the last one into the cage. Everyone but Illyria moved towards the tunnel, but Illyria merely jumped onto the back of the Wilderin, and drove her sword into its brain, the skull but paper in her path.

"Who the hell are you?" Hengist managed to get out through the shock of his pet's death. Wilderin were not supposed to die that easily. But this woman with blue hair, garbed in armor of red leather had, despite her slight seeming stature, made short work of both his men, and his Wilderin.

"Go." Lancelot told the others, everyone in the tunnel. "I'll cover-"

"There's no need." Wesley said calmly, returning his sword to its place on his wrist-device. "She has him well in hand."

"He's right." Morgana grabbed Merlin's wrist and pulled him with her as she followed Arthur and Guinevere.

Wesley turned to look at Lancelot. "So you're Lancelot." He held out his hand, and unconsciously, Lancelot shook it. "Wesley Wyndam-Pryce."

Lancelot nodded, dropping his hand, then pointed to the blue-haired woman fighting Hengist. Toying with him would be more accurate. Wesley noted. "Who is that?" Lancelot asked.

"That would be the Lady Illyria." Wesley answered. "She likes killing. And," Illyria seemed to have grown bored with playing with Hengist, and settled for driving her sword into the man's chest, leaving it embedded there as she turned, stalking towards the tunnel. "She's quite good at it."

"Obviously." Lancelot agreed. Illyria barged between them.

"Close the tunnel." She ordered to both of them, not caring which cut the rope. Given that Lancelot had his sword out, he cut it, letting the gate fall shut over the tunnel entrance.

And with that, the two men followed Illyria down to the tunnel exit, now made useable by Arthur's efforts. I wonder if that will be enough violence for now for Illyria? At least for the immediate future.