Carry on my wayward son

Day dawned brightly at the crumbling castle, sneaking up on the sleeping figures on the hillside. Only one lay awake, sat on a rock on the outskirts of their camp, a silent guardian. Merlin stretched, watching the pale sun rise, deciding it was time to wake everybody up. He re-lit the dying fire, clapping his hands twice with a cheerful "Morning!" to rouse the knights. With several groans and stirring, the small party woke, gathering around the tiny fire in minutes: sleep filled eyes not yet adjusted to the overpowering daylight, blinking constantly and half-asleep still. Merlin rolled his eyes at their laziness, quickly resuming his role of 'servant' as he collected water from a nearby waterfall, only slightly distracted by its proximity to the cave, and boiled it over the fire to make tea. He had limited supplies in the car now; a couple of tea sachets, snack bars and stale sandwiches. But they would have to make do for now. Carrying these few remaining morsels to the makeshift camp, he sat with a closed smile and began handing out the provisions. Some of the knights made faces at the food, but after a stern glance from Merlin, all complaining ceased. Gwaine nodded his thanks as the sorcerer handed him the last of the bars, asking "What about you?"

The boy shrugged, unchanged, "I'm not hungry." Before anyone had chance to comment on this, he ploughed on. "The cave," a sigh, almost of defeat, passed through the assembled crowd, who had hoped their friend would forget his mysterious lights from the previous night, "I still want to go there. I think it's important"

To his surprise, Arthur nodded, and Merlin instantly forgot the argument he had been conducting in his head of reasons to go. He must have looked shocked outwardly, for the King laughed, "I promised you, so we'll go." Merlin's face curved into a grateful smile at this, touched by the gesture. "Thank you."

So it was that an hour later, after stomping out the fire and collecting any belongings, the troop marched down the slippery, staggered cliff path to the sodden beach below. There was no one around, in fact an eerie silence had fallen on the place, par the crashing of the waves on the shore. Standing on a rock at the end of the staircase and helping Gwen down, Merlin turned to survey the delicate beach before them: the waterfall from which he'd collected water stood about halfway down, the cave on the far side, with a dotting of grey rocks in between. They paused at the edge, reluctant to go on. It wasn't fear exactly, but a feeling of dread emitted from the cave; they did not want to be parted again after such a brief reunion. Luckily, they'd get a helping hand before they reached their destination.

"Um, come on. We'd better get this over with" suggested Arthur, taking his first steps across the lonely beach. The sand felt strange to walk on, sinking slightly underneath his boots. He found the sensation quite unsettling, feeling as if the whole land could swallow them in an instant. "Is this safe?" he asked Merlin, who was distracted, for some reason looking towards the sea, not the cave. "What? It's just a beach Arthur – haven't you ever seen one before?" the boy replied.

"No, actually"

"Oh," Merlin looked at him thoughtfully, "I'm sorry, I didn't realize. You missed a lot." This ended the conversation on an awkward note, Merlin thinking of the times he'd missed with Arthur: the King likewise wondering what else this brand new world had to shock him with. Luckily, Leon interrupted them, "so, what have we missed? Is there anything fun at all here? It looks a bit of an awful place so far – everything's in ruin."

"It's not all bad," Merlin admitted, smiling softly, "there are some things I like. Wonderful things, really."

"Like what?" It was Gwaine who asked this time, and now the entire group listened in fascination.

The sorcerer blushed slightly, "I don't know really – just the little things, I guess. It's nice to have heating without having to make a fire. The foods better," he paused to grin, "I can't wait to buy you all your first curry. Or to get you to watch some crap telly, or to buy Gwaine his first beer." He stopped abruptly, "I do love this world, but I never felt like I belonged here. Now you're all back, it's feeling like home."

"You've thought about this a lot, haven't you?"

"I've been waiting a long time, Gwaine. I had ages to think." They seemed content with this answer, so the subject was dropped for now. All of the Knights, and especially Arthur, worried what it had been like for Merlin to have waited so long. They wanted to ask him, but didn't know how to. He looked fine, acted it, but how could they be sure? He'd hid his magic for long enough, so how could they trust his act now? The truth was that the Knights felt they did not know Merlin at all anymore, but really, there were none who know him better.

It was as they crossed the waterfall's shallow flow to the sea that a very odd thing happened. Merlin stopped suddenly as his feet touched the icy water, which landed onto the beach from its falls and twisted across the sand until it rejoined the turquoise sea. "What is it?" asked Guinevere, who had been talking quietly to him before he'd paused. The Sorcerer shook his head but did not move, his head swiveling from gazing at the falls as they passed to the waves, where they locked onto a building wave on the horizon. Merlin grinned impulsively, before running at full pace through the water to the sea, his boots soaked as the sea foam hit them. "What is it?!" Gwen called after him again, and all turned to watch, but he made no move to answer, staring down the wave as if it were made of gold. He laughed, and then shouted loudly at the approaching mass of water, "Hurry up then! You don't want to miss the party!" No one understood, thinking he'd gone positively mad.

The wave, seeming to hear him, took form. It was royal blue: a cool, calm and precise colour. The entire sea glowed with that colour, cleaner and brighter than ever before. It was slow in its gathering, taking its time to reach the shore; as it did, a figure could be seen emerging from its depths. He rose, consistent as ever, and walked now as the wave cascaded around him, freeing him. Its white foam crashed around the figure, full of passion and collected bravery, as Sir Lancelot was born of the sea. He walked calmly from this chaos, across the golden sands to where Merlin waited, still grinning, to hug his friend. They did, and the Knights could be heard shouting behind them, the sound of boots scrambling across sand filling the air as they ran to meet them. In the celebration of the moment, no one heard the sneer from the cave.

As Arthur was born of the sun, golden with loyalty and hour and burning brightly; Lancelot was born of the sea, calm and open and building with compassion. Arthur was a fire: he grew quickly and was hard to put out, throwing light upon those in his presence so they grew with him – the natural leader. The other man was his opposite. Lancelot was water: calmer, more patient in his ways and more likely to think before he acted – the soldier. Lancelot was transparent too; his emotions were clear in the way he acted; who he fought for. Arthur was impulsive. Lancelot was practical. The King sought affirmation of his deeds. The knight was just happy to serve honestly. Both fought for redemption. By being opposites, they became unstoppable if they fought the same battles. Together, fire and water were unbeatable.

Merlin embraced Lancelot, as did the other knights when they arrived eagerly, glad of another friendly face on their journey. "You're late," scolded Merlin teasingly, "You almost missed all the action." Lancelot smiled warmly back.

"As if I'd do that" he grinned. There was a time when the knight had been Merlin's best friend, the only one he had trusted with his secret; the sorcerer was the most pleased at Lancelot's return. "I'm glad you're okay, Merlin."

"On, I'm always that."

The reunion between Arthur and Lancelot was less awkward than expected, for as he saw the King, the knight dropped to one knee, beginning to apologise and trying to explain about the shade Morgana had conjured; that it was not him who betrayed Arthur. "Rise" Arthur said with a stern face, and the anxious Lancelot obeyed. "Sire-"

"I don't want to hear it" snapped the King raising a hand. He kept up an angry pretense, stony face set into a haughty expression. This broke almost instantly though, as he laughed, face breaking into a grin which was soon shared, "Merlin's already explained it all to me – I'm the one who should be apologising," he clapped Lancelot in the back, and the knight smiled again, flushing pink, "You're too easy to fool, Lancelot" The King laughed, and so did all the knights, relieved at the tension being broken. None wanted to see the King fight with his own men once more. "Thanks for that," Lancelot sighed, "Now I'll not hear the end of it."

"What did you think I was going to do, execute you?"

"Well you are the king, and you do have a terrible temper"

"I do not have a temper!" Arthur shouted, already feeling his face contort into an annoyed expression.

"Yes you do" chorused both Lancelot and Merlin, who caught eyes and grinned.

"Do not" Arthur muttered again, realizing his mistake in acting angrily moments before; everyone laughed. The King decided to let it go. "Welcome back, Sir Lancelot."

"Thank you, my lord."

With a more positive outlook, the group headed towards the cave once more after a while talking among themselves. Lancelot sidled up to Merlin, "So they know now then? He asked. The boy looked confused. "About your magic" The knight explained, and his friend nodded thoughtfully, "Yes, they do. But they only know that I have magic – none of the other things yet. We didn't really have the chance to spend time together after they found out."

"How did they react?"

"Arthur, he was scared I think. I thought he hated me," Merlin admitted with a frown, "Percival was . . . thankful. I don't know about the rest – Percy told them for me."

Lancelot nodded in agreement, "and now?"

"They forgive me, but there is much they don't know. I've done some terrible things: you know that."

"You've done some great things too," Lancelot reminded him. "Do they know about the Dragon?" he asked, remembering the conversation with the beast many, many years ago. "Arthur knows I'm a Dragon Lord, but I don't think he understands all that it means."

"Perhaps you'd better keep that to yourself, the best offense in desperate times is often surprise" Lancelot advised.

"Yeah, perhaps you're right" signed Merlin, "although I don't know if that means anything anymore: I don't know what happened to Aithusa after the battle and she was the last of her kind – and what's a Dragon Lord without a dragon?" Lancelot smiled sympathetically, he'd seen his friend so down often. "You're more than that, my friend. I think you sometimes forget it." The Warlock had no chance to reply, for they had reached the dark mouth of the cave. Not much could be seen of the inside, just shadows; not even a clear path ahead could be spotted in its murkiness.

"Still want to go in?" inquired Arthur, appearing at their side. He looked to Merlin, no one else, for an answer. The boy nodded, "I'm sure I saw something, what if it's another one of us?"

"What if it's a trap?"

"What if it's Gaius?" Merlin let the words that had been playing on his mind slip from his lips, regretting it in an instant as in front of him, the Kings face turned to pity, and he couldn't stand that. He had been hoping, so much it consumed every waking moment, that with everyone returning – perhaps his mentor could too. He missed his friend. Arthur softened. "I know it's hard, but you can't let your heart rule your head here: it's too dangerous."

"What if it is? Would you leave him? Lost in there, in the dark and alone – I know that feeling, and I for one won't risk it" Merlin protested bitterly, turning on heel and storming into the cave. "You don't even know for sure that it is Gaius!" Arthur shouted behind him, noticing how they all seemed to stare at the Warlock a little apprehensively now. Every time Merlin had an outburst like this, angry flashes about his time alone; his mask slipped a little, they did not know how to help. He turned back to them, "No, I don't know for sure, but I have to check in case it is. Please, can you understand that?" The boy asked, but the question was apparently rhetorical, for he immediately whipped around and back into the gloom. Lancelot was the first to follow him, seconds before Gwaine too sped up to catch up. The King sighed wearily. "He'll be alright" Gwen reassured, leaning on his arm, "it's just – things have changed for him."

"He's changed."

"Maybe," Gwen said, and then smiled, "But our Merlin's still in there somewhere, I believe that. It will just take some time for him to recover."

"Time isn't something we have – this prophecy is happening now." Arthur thought of his premonition showing Merlin dying and shuddered, "I need him back."

"I know," she said, "but things just don't go away in an instant: some scars run too deep"

"But it's like I can't even understand him anymore"

"That's because we can't. None of us know what he's been through; until he chooses to tell us that isn't likely to change."

"Then why doesn't he just talk to me?" Arthur demanded, frustrated for no real reason, "After all this time I knew I trusted him – I thought he trusted me too."

"He hasn't hadn't had the chance, dear. You've been too busy saving us all to talk! You said he had a home, right?" Arthur nodded. "Then when we return there, you will have more time to talk, and I'm sure he'll tell you." Gwen reassured him as best she could, but she could see how truly worried he was. "And what is something happens before then?" he challenged.

"We hope it doesn't" was all the answer the Queen had. "But, we can be sure of one thing: Merlin will never give up. He'll do what he always does" she added.

"What's that?"

"Carry on."

Guinevere squeezed his arm affectionately before too heading into the gloomy cave, after a second, Arthur too followed Merlin: of course he would.

The cave was too dark to see in, but was excellent for concealing things. Such was the plan of one Morgana Pendragon, who stood waiting within its mouth. She smirked as they passed without even glancing in her direction: their arrogance would be their downfall. Her army was small now, but it would grow and they were ready. Ready, in position in the cave to take out the knights while she dealt with the real problem. It was so easy, how these boys playing men fell into the palms of her hands. Victory was pre-determined. This time, the knights of Camelot would lose their most special weapon; without it they would fall like dominoes. And she would be the gust of wind to topple them all.

As they stormed the cave, unsure what awaited them, Arthur in particular felt on guard to attack. He had moved forwards in the masses so he now kept pace with Merlin, who searched the cave despairingly. He felt himself break into a sweat, the warm air flowing through the cave not helping the perspiration brought on by his panic. The Warlock was so feverish in his searching that he missed the noise. That was Merlin's first mistake that day; but not his last, or his greatest. The footsteps carried on running, unnoticed. That was, until the warning battle cry filled the cavern, and the fight commenced.

The warriors were tall, more so than any man there, even Percival. They were dark, virtually undetectable in the cave, apart from two bright red streaks painted onto their cheeks. Long, raggedy hair fell in knots right down their backs, and they wore only torn trousers, with no shoes but hardened feet. They were called 'Banes', by Morgana's creation. It was her own private joke; Arthur's bane was himself, but her Banes would defeat them.

They attacked swiftly, using long swords with bone handles, which slashed viciously. Gwaine cried out as one cut his back, turning to draw his own sword and engage it in combat. He caught it off guard with his quick reaction, slicing its stomach open with difficulty. The creature, he was sure it was no man, dropped to the floor with a groan. "We're under attack!" he yelled, wincing as his own wound throbbed. Two more emerged in front of him, but he felt someone stand by his side, and seeing it was Lancelot, he grinned. "One each, what do you say?" Gwaine grinned, before jumping forwards to attack the figure on the left. Lancelot mirrored this on his right, parrying with the towering creature.

Behind them, another creature was advancing on a terrified Gwen, who screamed in fright as it raised its sword. "Astrice!" Merlin was at her side in a second, sending the Bane flying and seizing her wrist, "Run." He pulled her through the cave, knocking one more figure into the wall, before they ran into Elyan. "I heard a scream" the young knight explained, looking nervously around for a threat.

"There are creatures attacking us, you need to get your sister out of here" Merlin explained.

"What about the others? Me and Leon were ahead of you, everyone else is back there" Elyan protested, wishing instead to fight.

"I'll protect them, but Arthur would want Gwen to be safe. Take her with you and Leon – follow the cave back, it's got to end somewhere" the Warlock instructed, and the knight nodded.

"Good luck" Elyan said as Merlin ran off, back towards the battle.

"And be careful!" called Gwen.

Lancelot killed his opponent after a struggle, immediately joining Gwaine in his fight next to him; between them the second soldier lay on the rocks within minutes. "That was fun" remarked Gwaine lightly, swinging his sword round so it was held aloft in front of him. "Depends on your definition of 'fun'" retorted Lancelot, for grim were their chances.

"Bad odds, huge fellas, good fights" stated Gwaine, just as another four figures tore from the darkness.

"This must be a party then" said another voice, as Arthur stepped into the light beside them, as did Percival: the remaining knights standing together. "My lord – come to join the reunion!" Gwaine said, but his words came out slurred, from loss of blood, he was fading fast. Arthur felt his heart stop: this was it, one of the visions from Avalon. The exact words Gwaine had said then. The King had thought Gwaine was drunk in the vision, not injured; that was a mere misinterpretation. That's not what he delayed on however, the main focus of his thoughts right then were its happening. If this vision had come to pass – would the one about Merlin.

"Sire" Arthur realized his knights were looking at him, and he had been ignoring them for moments. He blinked, noting the figures were metres away now, and his men ready. "For Camelot!" he announced, a chant echoed before they surged forwards, slashing and stabbing, into the fray.

Things were not going well, they were outnumbered, but not too greatly, however these things were huge, and hard to kill. Percival managed to stop the most, for he stood nearly eye to eye with the beasts, but he was just one man. They were losing. "We need to retreat" Arthur cried to Lancelot, as their paths crossed. The other knight pushed him out of the way, slaying a beast approaching the Kings turned back. Arthur nodded his thanks as Lancelot pulled him back up, "I don't see how we can" the knight said, "There are too many, we'll never get away." The King saw this problem; all that was left was fighting even if it was hopeless.

"Astrice!" two more figures fell as Merlin approached at a run, eyes scanning the room for Arthur and finding him quickly. "Over here!" he called, catching their attention. The Knights, with a goodbye stab or cut, ran over to the where Merlin waited, pursued by the Bane. As they passed him, he uttered instructions to run and find Leon to them. Arthur was the last to come, and stood still by Merlin.

The Warlock faced the army. "Feoll bu brand!" he commanded; while the cave did shake, it did not fall as he had hoped. "Feoll bu brand" he tried again and a small band of attackers were hindered by a rock falling on top of them. But more were coming, they could be seen approaching, not fifty metres away. "We have to go now" ordered Arthur, so for now, his friend complied. The two ran through the cave for maybe ten minutes, stumbling on rocks but overall quicker than the Bane, who fell behind by some way. The others waited for them at the caves end, which was a beach reachable by wading through waist high sea water.

"We were worried." Leon said, "There is another cave, just over there," he pointed across the small expanse of water to a sheltered opening, almost hidden, "we should hide."

The King nodded in agreement, "Let's go." While most of the knights followed their orders without hesitation, Merlin shook his head. "They'll only follow us, let me try to seal the cave" he turned to return to the shadows, but Arthur grabbed his arm.

"No," the King spoke solemnly, "that's an order."

"I never do what I'm told anyway." Merlin shook his arm free, putting a hand on the cave wall and concentrating. "Gewican ge stanas!" a rock shifted above them, falling into the cave's mouth and blocking the path, but not fully. Sighing, he moved inside the cave, just past the entrance, to try again. "Merlin," Arthur pleaded from outside, "I know you're powers are returning, but they are still weak. You have to stop."

The Warlock shook his head, instead opting for a different spell "Ic the bebode thaet thu abifiast nu." Again, the ground rumbled, but it was a whisper, not a battle cry. Merlin wasn't ready yet, not that he'd stop trying. "The dwarf was right, wasn't he?" Arthur commented, growing impatient at his friend's stubbornness. He would do anything to help Merlin get better; anything at all, but now was now the time. "No" was the reply her got, as the Sorcerer reappeared to view, just inside the cave, but face to face with Arthur. "You are weakened" the King said, but not cruelly. He was begging for Merlin to understand, so they could deal with it.

"I can do this!" the boy shouted, slamming his fist into the rock, so the ground shook once more.

"But not as you once could" protested Arthur.

Merlin looked him dead in the eyes now. "Just run, I'll hold them back."

But Arthur groaned, raising his voice, "You can't do it. You've changed."

"I grew up"

"YOU GAVE IN" Arthur roared, letting his full anger show as he seemed to double in height. Merlin flinched at the words, starting back; looking as if he'd been punched. He paled, and his eyes: they were so full of pain. The King regretted his words immediately, but before he had the chance to take them back, a mighty crack sounded, and in front of his eyes, Merlin disappeared under a pile of rocks: trapping him inside the cave – with Arthur left on the other side.

Merlin, after the initial shock at being cut off, turned slowly to face the ranks of the beings attacking them. Their ranks parted in half, as a lone figure, one so familiar, strode purposefully through them until she stood in front of him. "Emrys," she greeted him with a wicked grin, "how the great have crumbled."

"You won't win: Arthur escaped" Merlin told her, genuinely thinking of nothing else. His friends were safe, and together – they would be safe, he knew it. Morgana laughed, "oh but my dear Merlin, that was never my plan – I wanted you."

"Why?"

"After all this time - you question that?" she sounded incredulous, as if the answer was the most obvious thing in the world, "you were their deadliest weapon."

"Then you should know that I do not fear you, Morgana. I used to; I used to fear you killing Arthur. I never feared what you would do to me, though; I do not fear the other world," he smiled grimly, "but my King is safe so I have nothing to fear. Do what you want to me, I don't care – you'll never win." Morgana scowled, furious as his rebellion. She wanted him terrified; she wanted him begging for mercy: she wanted him to pay.

But instead, he only smiled at her, "But you feared me, you feared Emrys," he spoke the next words very carefully, with coldness behind them, "And I will stop you."

"Hleap on bæc!" Morgana screamed, sending Merlin flying across the room. He crashed into the rock fall behind him and landed in a heap on the floor, blood dripping from a gash in the back on his head. Annoyed that she had lost her control, she walked over to his form and crouched next to him, "But once I have dealt with you, what's to stop me from destroying them all?" she asked of his unconscious form, cruelly, teasingly. She would hurt him. Morgana stood, nodded to her men to carry the Warlock, before they left the cave for good, taking Merlin with them to the unknown.

"Merlin!" Arthur shouted, pounding at the fallen rocks with his fist. "Merlin!" he screamed until his throat was raw, desperately trying to loosen some of the rocks; to help his friend. "Arthur" sounded a voice, strongly commanding, "calm down. We need to think" It was Lancelot, who stood behind him regarding the problem thoughtfully. "How can you be so heartless? Merlin was your friend!" The King demanded. "He still is" the Knight said, forcing back an angry response. This pulled Arthur short, they didn't know anything yet – how could he be so quick to speak of his friend in the past tense? "We need to shift that rock there," Lancelot continued, tapping his sword against a medium sized rock at the base of the structure, "If that one goes, the rest will fall – it's holding them up."

Gwaine, who too was panicked like Arthur, frenzied in his tearing away of smaller rocks, immediately, moved to study this. "It could work" he mused. Moving to position it correctly, Sir Gwaine jabbed his sword into a thin gap between the indicated rock and the one next to it, then began pressing down in it, using it as a lever. This worked for a few minutes, shifting dirt from around the stone and freeing its edges with a bit of effort. Then, quite unexpectedly, his word snapped as he pushed, almost breaking exactly in two. Gwaine fell to the ground, stunned; the sword lay broken at his feet. "It's not working!" snapped Arthur.

"We need a stronger sword" suggested Leon, standing forward to try his own.

The King smiled suddenly, "My sword – Merlin said so once, it was forged in the Dragon's breath" he exclaimed joyfully, unsheathing Excalibur. He thrust it into the gap, and was reminded of pulling it from a similar stone when he claimed it all those years ago. Now, he suspected the cunning Merlin also had something to do with that miracle too.

Arthur twisted Excalibur; the stone moved forward an inch. The Knights all smiled briefly, but it was short – lived, as they were all aware of the danger their friend was in. He pushed again, and a gap appeared. "Merlin!" he cried through it, but no reply came from within. Cursing, he pushed again; three efforts later, the stone fell, sending a cascade of stones to their feet. The path no longer blocked, but some time passed, the group sped through the cave, searching for something to tell them what had happened. Merlin was not on the other side of the blockade. Nor was he on the corner where they had fought the creatures. Arthur, with his last hope, tore across the stones, not caring if he fell, to the cave of the mouth. "No!" he hoarsely screamed, "NO!" The beach was empty; the only trace a line of footprints leading to the grassy hill, where they disappeared. They were disturbed though, a mark made by something heavier and wider than a foot. Merlin, Arthur thought. They were dragging him behind them like a piece of dirt.

The King didn't know where they'd gone.

He didn't know if Merlin was even still alive.

He didn't know who'd taken his friend.

Or what the attacking creatures were.

But Arthur Pendragon knew two things in absolute clarity in that moment.

One: that the best friend he would ever know was gone, taken from him.

Two: That nothing in this world would stop him from getting Merlin back.

To be continued. . .