A/N: Bring it on, giant. Bring it on.
Ch. 9
The morning was the same as it had been the past few days – overcast and cool. Merlin and Arthur had woken well before sunrise, and now stood with the rest of their camp at the top of the hill, waiting for the giant's arrival.
Merlin could have sworn his heart was quivering in his chest. He had one hand in his pocket, gripping one of the little dolls stored there. There were four dolls in all, two in each pocket of his jacket, and he could feel their magic like a trickle of cool water along his skin. He glanced down the line of knights to Lot's end of the hill, and could just see Landes constantly glancing their way. Arthur had contemplated alerting Lot of Landes' treachery, but had preferred the thought of Landes in a perpetual state of squirming, forever wondering when Arthur would say something. The problem was that there was no physical proof to what Landes had done.
Neither did it matter, because Landes had failed.
Merlin looked back out over the hill, the small smile that had been tugging at his lips fading away.
The sound of thundering footfalls echoed through the hills. A great swathe of shadows poured over the rolling land, and at their head the tall, pale figure of the giant in his cloak of human beards. Merlin's grip on the doll tightened until his palm itched.
The army stopped on reaching the top of the hill, but the giant continued forward, and the look on his face was one of contained rage.
"I choose the challenger today!" he bellowed before anyone had a chance to move forward. He swung his club from his shoulder and used it to point at Arthur and Merlin. "And I choose the thief and his little accomplice. You will pay for your intrusion, little men. And may it come as a lesson to you all. I will not be bested so easily."
Every head turned in Arthur's and Merlin's direction, making Merlin feel painfully self-conscious and longing for the privacy of the trees.
Arthur unsheathed his blade and stepped forward, the very picture of calm. But, then, he was Arthur, trained from birth to kill, and trained to be a king.
"So be it," Arthur said.
Merlin took a deep breath, straightened his back, and stepped up next to his king.
The giant smiled, laughed, and gave his club a few deft twirls. "This won't be a challenge at all, I think. Let us make it interesting. If you win, I leave, but I suppose nothing changes there." He frowned, glowering. "If I win, the land is mine to do with as I please."
"Then it's a good thing I don't plan on losing," Arthur said. He looked at Merlin, gave the slightest nod, and then charged forward.
Merlin startled at the abrupt attack but quickly recovered, darting to the right in a wide arc around the giant. The giant, wanting to go for what he thought was the easier target, attempted to make his way toward Merlin only to be forced to take a wide step back when Arthur went for his ankles.
The Giant's abrupt change in direction put him sideways to Merlin. It wasn't a clear shot to his back, but it was the best Merlin could hope for. He lifted his hand, said a silent prayer to the gods, spoke a word of magic, and released a fireball.
The fireball raced toward the giant and struck his cloak.
The section it struck began to burn. Merlin pumped his fist in the air in triumph.
And then the giant looked at him, face twisting in rage, and charged at Merlin like a bull.
Merlin immediately stopped celebrating. "Oh no," he squeaked. He turned and ran.
~oOo~
"Damn it all!" Arthur snapped as the giant raced after Merlin, his smoldering cloak leaving a trail of smoke. Arthur charged after him, sweat pouring in rivers beneath his armor. He raised his sword and brought it down on the cloak, cutting away more pieces of human beard. But the giant's massive strides had the giant pulling away out of reach.
Then Merlin stumbled and fell. But he rolled onto his back, cupping his hands together. He shouted a word of magic that made his eyes burn gold, and an even more massive fireball shot from his hands toward the giant's face. The giant's magic protected him from the flames but not the force and blinding light of the explosion, causing the giant to cry out and stumble back. Merlin continued releasing flame after flame, shoving the giant back.
And giving Arthur more than enough time to catch up. He ran with every ounce of energy he had. He dropped to his knees and slid beneath the cloak billowing out as the giant tried to twist away from the assault. Arthur lashed out with his sword.
And cut the giant across the tendon of his ankle.
The giant bellowed in pain and rage. His leg tried to buckle out from under him, but he caught himself with his club, using it like a cane. The sound of cheering rolled over the hill like the roar of the ocean.
The giant hobbled around, his face red with fury. He balanced on his good leg, lifted his club and brought it down, but Arthur rolled clear of the impact. Then the giant arched in surprise more than pain when another fireball breached his weakening magical defenses and set another section of cloak alight.
The giant was blinded by rage, now, swinging his club wildly in the hopes of hitting something. Which might have been humorous had Arthur not been so close. He rolled, flattened himself as the club swung overhead, the resultant wind it created buffeting Arthur. He scrabbled away on his hands and knees just before the club came down, raising a cloud of dirt and grass. Then the club was swinging again.
"Arthur!" Merlin called.
Arthur's eyes widened when he saw Merlin, back on his feet, sending fireball after fireball into the cloak. His breath stopped when the giant pivoted around on his good ankle and swung at Merlin. His heart stopped when the club clipped Merlin and sent his body flying – not far, but landing hard and tumbling over the ground.
The giant laughed. He hobbled over to Merlin's unmoving body and raised his club.
"No!" Arthur screamed. He was on his feet, running. The club arched over the giant's head, then began dropping down.
Arthur threw his sword.
The blade spun hilt over tip and embedded itself in the giant's back. The giant arched, screaming, his cry of agony like a roar. He staggered back away from Merlin and fell to his knees, reaching for the sword buried next to his massive spine.
Arthur continued running until he reached Merlin, and once there fell to his own knees by Merlin's side.
Merlin's left side was a mess, spotted with blood, his arm beneath his shoulder and his collarbone bent at an unnatural angle. But he was breathing, his chest rising and falling.
The giant's roar of pain stopped. Arthur looked up, hoping to see the giant lying dead on the ground. Instead, the giant held Arthur's bloody sword in his giant hand. The giant, breathing heavy with pain, smile a blood-flecked smile. Taking the sword in both hands, he snapped it like a twig.
"You haven't won," he said. "You've won nothing." He then lifted his face to the sky, and hollered, "Attack!"
The army of ragged dead surged forward.
"You can't!" Arthur screamed. "Neither of us have won or lost!"
"The rules are mine to create," the giant said. "Just as they are mine to break." And he laughed.
Arthur leaned over Merlin, covering him as the army charged with swords and axes raised. Two of the inky skeletons bore down on Arthur, ready to cleave him in two.
Just as the first skeleton's blade came down, another blade intercepted it. Arthur looked up and smiled manically at Gwaine. Gwaine twisted his blade, disarming the skeleton, then with a sideways slash beheaded the thing, dissolving it into smoke.
The armies of Camelot, Lot and those having come to challenge the giant shouted war cries and converged on the army of dead, holding them back, steel wringing against steel. But the dead were many.
And the giant was climbing back to his feet, laughing like a lunatic. He swung his club, knocking away knights and warriors by the dozen.
A ragged cough pulled Arthur's attention to Merlin.
"Merlin!" Arthur said on a hysterical laugh.
Merlin grimaced. He lifted his head, or tried to, and grimaced again with an, "Ow." When he opened his eyes, they widened. He threw out his hand, shouting a spell, and several skeletons went flying back.
"Oh, gods, did we lose?" he panted.
"We'd be dead if we lost. The giant changed the rules, he's using his army!" Arthur said quickly. "Please tell me you have a spell, enchantment, something that can help."
Merlin coughed. "Got… something much better. Should have used it sooner but… wasn't sure if I could." He coughed again, then looked up at Arthur with a sheepish smile. "Did Gaius tell you about the dragon?"
Merlin then lifted his head, and bellowed into the sky with a voice so deep and inhuman that it made Arthur shiver. But when Merlin finished, slumping back to the ground, nothing happened.
"Merlin?" Arthur said urgently, his eyes in constant motion taking in the battle raging around them.
Then came the roar, a real roar that seemed to split the sky. And soon after came a dragon, huge and red-gold dropping out of the sky and laying waste to the giant's army with great pillars of fire. The dragon dove, breathing out his flames that engulfed the dead, rose then dove again, cutting through their numbers as easily as a farmer cutting through wheat with a scythe.
The giant bellowed in rage. He turned to Arthur and Merlin, seething. He limped toward them with his club raised.
"No! I will not be defeated! I am never defeated!"
But before he had a chance to reach them, the dragon dove once more and snatched the giant in all four of his claws. The dragon flapped madly, climbing higher and higher as the giant squirmed like a fish. When the dragon was so high up he looked to be no bigger than a hawk, he let the giant go.
The giant's impact with the ground made the very bones of the earth tremble, knocking all those still standing off their feet. A great cloud of dust rose in the air.
The army of dead stopped as though suddenly frozen. Stone began to spread down their bodies like moss, encasing them until they were once more statues. But then the stone began to crack, little hair-line fractures at first that soon grew into fissures. The statues slowly crumbled, first in chunks, then into pebbles, then into nothing more than dust carried away by the wind.
Arthur looked down at Merlin. "Actually, Gaius said nothing about a dragon."
Merlin blinked, looking suddenly nervous. "He didn't?"
"Not really."
Merlin's unease became fear.
Then Arthur laughed, because, honestly, at this point, it no longer mattered. He took Merlin's face in his hands and planted a sloppy kiss on the crown of his head. But as soon as he pulled away, he quickly composed himself.
"Right. That never happened, by the way."
Merlin smiled. "Of course not, sire."
Arthur chuckled and ruffled Merlin's hair.
~oOo~
Merlin loved pain draughts. Not so much the flavor, but definitely the after affects. He'd had to be put under as Gaius reset his arm, collarbone and two of his upper ribs, and on waking he'd been pleasantly numb if a bit loopy. But not so loopy that he didn't find out what had occurred. Men had died, but not as many as were expected. It seemed both the giant's magic and his strength had weakened to the point that his army wasn't as difficult to battle as they had first seemed, and the giant's club hadn't packed its usual punch. But men had still died, and losses were still losses. There had been a memorial, in which the giant's body had been dragged to the top of the hill, tied sitting upright to a pole and burned, while the names of the fallen were read. It had taken a whole phalanx just to get the giant's carcass to sit upright. His cloak had been burned separately as a memorial to those taken by the giant.
Arthur was relatively fine. Bruised, sore and suffering several pulled muscles from having to exert more force to cut through the giant's thick skin, but fine.
"You succeeded, my boy," Gaius said with a smile. "You both won. Together."
Merlin was in and out most of the time. At one point he and Kilgarrah had a bit of a mental chat. The dragon had been close by during Merlin's time in Ealdor, aware of Merlin's mental and emotional distress but giving Merlin what space he needed.
"I'm surprised you didn't badger me with talk of destiny and two sides of the same coin," Merlin thought.
"I am surprised as well," Kilgarrah said with a smile in his mental voice. "It was your mother who stayed my voice."
"My mother?" Merlin said in alarm.
"She spotted me one day as I was hunting. She sought me out and spoke to me of what you went through, begging me to let you be and not badger you to return to Arthur. After hearing your tale, I found myself agreeing with her. As I said, I could sense your distress, and I will be honest – I did not know what to do. I did not know what could be said to remedy it, so I chose to say nothing until you were ready to speak for yourself."
Merlin was left momentarily speechless.
"What will you do, now?" Kilgarrah asked.
Merlin didn't answer. He couldn't. He didn't have an answer, yet.
~oOo~
For once, the day dawned sunny, the clouds finally having broken up. The tents were dismantled, packed and loaded, and it wasn't long before the hill once again resembled a hill, as though no battle had taken place.
"I thank you, Arthur Pendragon," Lot said before he started his own journey back to his castle. "You saved my kingdom and its people. For that, Camelot will now be considered a friend to Essitir."
"And Essitir is a friend of Camelot," Arthur said. They clasped arms. He glanced over Lot's shoulder at a fuming Landes. When the two broke apart and Lot moved past Arthur to finish preparations for departure, Arthur made sure to move past Landes.
"I'm more than happy to keep what you did to myself," Arthur said. "You know, so long as you never attempt to make trouble for me again. I'm a king and a friend to Essetir, remember. My word holds more weight."
Landes visibly paled and minutely nodded. Arthur smiled and continued on. He made his way down the hill to Hunith's house, to see if Gaius had gathered all his books and was ready to depart. He knocked, then opened the door to Merlin helping Gaius load a few provisions into a satchel. When Gaius spotted Arthur, he closed the satchel.
"I need to ready my horse, Merlin," he said. "Seems it's time to go."
The two embraced each other, like father and son, Gaius' right arm around the back of Merlin's neck to avoid the sling. Then they released, and Gaius headed out the door, giving Arthur an encouraging nod along the way.
An awkward silence fill the small house.
Arthur cleared his throat. "So…" he said. "Is your mother here? I wanted to thank her for the hospitality she showed Gaius."
"She's helping in the field," Merlin said. "But I can tell her, if you need to head out."
Arthur shrugged. "There's no real hurry to be honest." He shifted from foot to foot, not knowing what else to say.
But knowing exactly what he wanted to say.
Come back with us. To start over. To be friends again. He wouldn't say those words, though. He didn't have the right to. It was Merlin's decision whether or not he would return to Camelot, and Arthur wasn't going to push him.
But…
"Just so you know," Arthur said. "You're always welcome in Camelot. There…. There will always be a place for you, should you ever wish to return."
Merlin gnawed on his bottom lip, then nodded. "Thank you."
Arthur nodded in return. He turned to go, only to turn back.
"Just… just out of curiosity. Do you think you might return? Not necessarily to stay, more than likely to visit Gaius I suppose. I'm just… wondering." He winced at how pathetic he was sounding at the moment.
Merlin's look was both sympathetic and uncertain, which was answer enough to Arthur, and it made him feel open and vulnerable, but most especially sad.
"Do you…" He looked down at the floor, hating himself for wanting to ask this question. "Do you still hate me?"
It surprised him when Merlin's eyes widened in alarm.
"No, Arthur. No. I mean… I was angry and scared…" He furrowed his brow and glanced away. "But I don't think I ever hated you. Not… not really. Not deep down inside." He looked at Arthur, and the vulnerability Arthur felt was reflected back at him in Merlin's expression.
"When you found out about my magic, did you hate me?" Merlin asked.
"No," Arthur said, and it was strange how easy it was to say. It was strange when he recalled wanting to hate Merlin and making excuses to hate him.
But deep down inside, he'd never hated him.
"I was angry and stupid because of it," Arthur said. He tossed up his hands. "You know me, Merlin. I've never had the best anger management."
Merlin snorted with amused agreement.
"But when I think about those days, I can't say that I ever came to hate you. And I'm glad. I would have hated myself even more. And if you never forgive me…" Arthur said.
"I do."
"…I'd understand… come again?"
Merlin smiled. "I do forgive you, Arthur. It's just that… I don't know if I'm quite ready to come back yet. It's hard to explain, except that I don't feel ready. Not because of you," he added quickly. Only to wince. "Well, not entirely. It's strange and it's going to sound ridiculous, but every time I think about going back to Camelot, I think of things going back to the way they were, and it… it makes me nervous, I don't know why. It's not that I don't want things to go back to the way they were. I guess I don't want things to be so normal it's as though what happened never happened." He cringed slightly. "It's like I'm afraid that if we forget it happened, it could happen again."
"It won't," Arthur said fervently.
"I know," Merlin said weakly. "I said it was ridiculous."
"Well," Arthur said, "things wouldn't go back to the way they were, anyway. Having a powerful sorcerer as a manservant would be too strange. I'd have to make you an advisor or court sorcerer or something. And we wouldn't forget. To learn from your mistakes you have to remember them."
Merlin nodded. Arthur nodded back.
Then thought, to hell with it, moved forward and pulled Merlin into an embrace, careful of his injured arm.
"Whatever you decide," Arthur said, "Know that I am and always will be your friend."
Merlin's good arm raised and returned the embrace. "And I am yours," he said.
They parted, then they said their goodbyes.
As Arthur and his men rode from the hill, he glanced up to see Merlin standing on that hill, watching them go.
TBC...
A/N: The bad news, there's only the epilogue left. The good news, I plan on posting it tomorrow since it's not very long :D
On another note, I'm pretty sure people are going to ask why Kilgarrah didn't just heal Merlin. I'll be honest - I'm not a big fan of magical healing. As a whump junky, it tends to be a major disappointment for me when a character is magically healed as if the injury never happened. It's also my personal head-canon that Kilgarrah only saves such magic for when Merlin is on the brink of death, because I can totally see Kilgarrah being the type to see non life threatening injuries as character building :/ But that's just my head canon.