A Good Man is Hard to Find

Ten

While Elyan pulled the bolts back on the main gate one by one, Gwaine stood facing the keep, a stolen long dagger in each hand. His blood was humming with adrenaline. At last, the ancient hinges creaked softly, and the door swung in just far enough to admit one man at a time. The first to appear was a stranger – scarred and sandy-haired. Gwaine raised his knives defensively.

"Who are you?"

Leon's face appeared behind him. "He's with us."

Gwaine could have sung with relief. He grinned wickedly, clapped Leon's shoulder and nodded at the stranger. "Glad to have you on board, mate. Long live the king," he said, by way of greeting.

The stranger looked surprised briefly, then nodded. "Long live the king," he echoed.

Gwaine and Leon took one door each and pulled them fully open. Silent as ghosts and grim-faced, the knights of Camelot flooded back into their citadel.

~/~/~/~

Merlin watched Arthur attentively, taking note of every movement and every flinch. He held tightly to the king's right hand to secure his hold; the crook of Arthur's elbow resting heavily on the back of Merlin's neck. The left hand was cradled against his ribs protectively, all four fingers bound tightly together. Arthur's step was a little stiff, but more sure-footed than Merlin would have expected.

The first guards they came across were the ones Merlin himself had spelled into slumber on his way in, in the guardroom at the foot of the stairs. Arthur raised an eyebrow upon finding them snoring, but made no comment on this bizarre stroke of fortune. He held his breath, biting his lip to silence any sound. Merlin wished he could explain that it would take more than Arthur's shaky breathing to wake the sleepers, but contented himself with hauling Arthur quickly up the stone steps until, outside, they could finally sigh in relief.

Arthur paused for a moment, his forehead creasing in pain or concentration.

"That was a stroke of luck," Merlin said, by way of distraction. Arthur raised incredulous eyebrows at him.

"Have you ever heard of stealth, Merlin?" he hissed. "I doubt all Morgana's men will be asleep. Even if they are, you're likely to wake them with your loud talking and galumphing around."

Merlin lowered his voice, though the corridor was long and obviously empty. "I don't galumph," he muttered, taking the bait gladly. "I just have a very purposeful, decisive way of walking, like a... like...'

Arthur snorted softly, waving a hand to indicate he was ready to move again. Merlin tactfully didn't point out that Arthur was currently moving even more clumsily than he was. Instead, he changed the subject.

"Can I just repeat that this is the stupidest plan I've ever heard?"

"Your opinion," Arthur huffed, "has been noted."

"And ignored. Like usual. If we get killed, I will haunt you forever. I will follow you around whispering 'I told you so,' in your ear."

Arthur's lips curved in a weary smile. "You do that anyway."

Merlin frowned, and cursed Pendragon stubbornness under his breath. Arthur pretended not to hear him.

~/~/~/~

Gwaine crept toward the armoury, perfectly balanced with a blade in each hand. At the door, he found himself face-to-face with an enemy guard. The bearded southerner creased his forehead in confusion at the sight of Helios' livery on a man followed by two in Pendragon red. Before his sluggish brain could work it out, Gwaine's knife flashed out, cutting off a yell as it rose in his throat. It was enough to bring a second soldier after him, but he, too, was quickly despatched before he could recover from his shock.

In another part of the castle, quiet and distant, Gwaine heard the ringing of steel.

~/~/~/~

Morgana awoke abruptly to a thick silence, giving no hint of the sound which had disturbed her. She glared into her gloomy chambers for a long moment.

A violent knocking startled her.

"My lady! My lady!"

A servant was behind the door when she opened it.

"Intruders in the castle –" he managed, them stopped in shock when a knife embedded itself in his shoulder.

Somebody cursed in the shadows, and then a pale, skinny fist caught the wounded man on the temple, and he collapsed. Morgana gasped in fury, finding herself facing the impudent gaze of none other than Arthur's moronic servant, Merlin. She snarled at him, but another voice drew her attention, and Arthur himself stepped into the pool of light cast by the torch in the wall bracket.

"Morgana," he said pleasantly. "I must speak with you."

She raised a finger to snuff his life out, but Merlin, much too close at her side, hummed a warning, and she found his knife under her jaw. "Careful, my lady," said Merlin guilelessly. Scowling, she backed into the chamber, Merlin and his knife following her closely, and Arthur limping after. He lowered himself gratefully into a chair as soon as the door closed, as though the rooms were still his own.

"What can I do for you, brother?" she hissed. "I have very little time. Your rabble seem to be making one last play for your worthless life."

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "We have plenty of time, don't we Merlin? And so much to discuss with you."

Merlin nodded grimly, his eyes intensely focused on Morgana's.

She glared pointedly at him and, ignoring the knife as far as possible, sat down opposite her brother. In the thin grey light just beginning to filter into the room, he looked so weary and grey-faced that, five years ago, she would probably have wept at the sight of him.

She knew better, now. She could see past the handsome face and kind eyes to decades of betrayal, the persecution of her people, the denial of her birthright – face to face, she often had to remind herself that the man before her was the embodiment of all her griefs; he had never been, regardless of her parentage, the brother he pretended to be.

"Are you here to remind me of our childhood games, and appeal to my human charity?" she sneered. Meeting his eyes was like a punch in the gut. "Even by your standards, this is foolhardy. You know I could kill you both, knife or no knife."

Merlin, still pointing the blade at her with as much menace as he could manage, chewed his lip.

"I learned some swift lessons about your human charity this week, Morgana," Arthur said, laying his wounded hand on the table pointedly. "I'm here to appeal to your common sense. Clearly you aren't cut out for tyranny. Camelot's knights will make short work of your southron army – caught by surprise in a castle they don't yet know their way around. They know they're at a disadvantage. How long do you think they'll stay? How much loyalty have you earned from them in this short time?"

Morgana stared coldly at him. He continued in the same quiet, reasonable tone. "You could still appeal to my human charity, Morgana. When you find yourself alone and surrounded by enemies. I can't promise to forgive you, but I have no more desire to see you dead than you, apparently, have to kill me."

"You are very confident that I won't kill you, for a man in your condition," she commented, casting a derisive glance at his bloody wrist and bandaged fingers where they rested on the table. Merlin, beside her, grunted softly in objection, his eyes stony. Arthur, for his part, seemed to be pretending he couldn't hear her. In the brief silence, the sounds of battle in the castle corridors could be heard distinctly.

"We could end all this. We could have peace at last, for my people –" he very deliberately met her eyes " – and yours."

Merlin glanced quickly between the two of them. His agitation was coming off him in waves, balanced by Arthur's disturbing stillness. Morgana focused on her brother.

"I know better than to listen to more of your false promises, Arthur. Why would I trust you, when I could kill you and escape before the knights you have so much faith in have even passed the outer walls? I have no need of Helios' army. I can find new allies, and return. How long do you think Camelot will last without you, before it slips into chaos?"

"You could," he agreed mildly. "But is that what you want?"

She narrowed her eyes.

Arthur hesitated. His chilly façade slipped a bit. "I still don't understand why you would want that."

"I want to take back what was taken from me," she hissed, getting to her feet. Merlin moved to intercept her, but with a blast of magic she knocked the knife out of his hand, singeing his fingers, and closed him in an invisible cage of magic. The sounds of battle seemed to be coming from every side now, and getting steadily louder.

"Arthur –" Merlin warned.

"I want you to know the suffering you have caused me, and those you so casually refer to as my people," she went on, fury making her voice crack.

Arthur still had not moved, though she had used no magic to secure him. She blasted away the table that stood between them. Arthur flinched back, raising his palms in a placating gesture, but still made no evasive move. Perhaps, for all his bravado, he was unable to stand. The last report she'd had from his jailers had accounted him fevered and weak, and she had herself borne witness to the blood he had lost. And yet, seated on the high-backed chair with all the insouciance of a king, he was hardly cowering before her as, by rights, he should be. It was infuriating. She wanted to see him fear her before she killed him.

The battle outside was rising to a cacophony. Merlin was yelling something incoherent at her, or at Arthur; she wasn't listening.

Summoning the knife Merlin had dropped to her hand, she struck like a snake, seizing Arthur by the hair and laying the flat of the blade against his bared throat.

"What say you now, brother?" she murmured, proud of the smooth menace in her voice.

Arthur met her eyes directly. So quietly that she had to bend her head closer to his lips, he answered her: "If you truly held me accountable for your griefs, Morgana, you would already have killed me."

Before she could formulate any response, the door to the chamber burst open.

~/~/~/~

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So many apologies; thank you very much to anyone who is still interested in reading this story*. I write for a living these days (not fiction), so I don't do much writing recreationally – nonetheless, I promised to finish this eventually (sorry it was so eventual) and I stand by that! I think it should be wrapped up in one or two more chapters. Thanks for reading; medals for patience all round!

*CJBH and Jameson especially, thank you for nudging me!