HAPPY NEW YEAR!
Omg... So sorry for the long space in updating. I had originally planned to have this up on Christmas day, but as it turned out, I did family things all day, so I suppose that's an excuse. Though for the other days I don't have one, aside from fretting over how to write the next few chapters.
But! I finally managed to get this one written and ready!
Review Responses
Linnea.E: Merry Christmas!
blackcallalily: Done! :)
Emily: Thank you for reading it! ^^
WE-ARE-SHER-LOCKED: Yep! Nothing helps two people understand each other better than getting shoved into each other's heads, eh?
IndiaMoore: More action granted! And Merry Christmas
1983Sarah: Yay! I'm glad my banter is good. :)
CaptainOzone: I've grown to love writing Gwen. She is such a strong character in the show, but we don't get enough chances to see her really shine. The thing about Dayla was actually one of those things that just came out of nowhere. Gwen surprised me a little, but after I thought about it, it made sense. XD I have been looking forward to writing this level of bromance, so I'm happy it is coming across like that. And I think you were the first writer that I read to point out the whole relation between Merlin's magic and nature and it really made sense to me. Merlin is sort of magic incarnate, and so I think his connection to all living things would be pretty profound and extensive. Plus it was cool to write. XD
M. of the Mountains: Forcing Arthur's brain to understand is fun!
elflife: Well a thank you to you too!
AmberW: Yeah. I wanted to draw more attention to that. It is supposed in the show that Merlin is the first one to ever be born with magic and so to me, that says that his magic is more natural than anyone else's. If Merlin is magic incarnate, wouldn't he have a connection to the rest of nature? I think I originally got the idea from CaptainOzone. Lol.
Here we go!
The air was cold and stale, but absolutely humming in anticipation. It startled Dayla awake, her sudden movement rattling Frio, who was nestled on the pillow next to her head. The bird spread her wings, her beak wide open for a moment before she realized nothing had happened and looked into Dayla's apprehensive eyes. The bird shook herself and nuzzled the girl. The druid wrapped her small arms around the bird and held her close for a moment before shrugging her blanket off and glancing to her left at where Merlin lay sleeping. She stood and padded over to his bedside, flinching a little at the icy floor on her bare feet. She placed a hand over the blackish burn that sat just below his collarbone where the gem had been attached to his flesh.
"It has started, Emrys," she muttered to his sleeping form, staring at his closed eyes as though she could will them to open. "Please hurry."
The door opened and Gaius entered, holding a small wooden bowl in his hand and smiling down at the little girl. "Ah, Dayla. I brought you some breakfast." His smile wilted as he caught the ominous glint in Dayla's eyes. "Is everything alright?"
Dayla walked over and took the bowl of porridge from him. "The magic of the world is stirring," she said quietly, looking up at him. "It is trying to tell Emrys that Morgana is near. Leon should prepare himself."
Any response Gaius could have mustered was cut off by the loud clanging of the warning bell. Frio screeched in response from her place on Merlin's chest. The two glanced out the open window in unison. They could feel the city- full to its brim with those from the nearby towns and villages- clench with anxiety. They huddled close together behind Camelot's mighty walls, having burned their remaining crops and fled; praying to their gods that their homes were still there when they returned- if they returned at all. The streets leading to the massive gates were filled with a sea of red and silver like blocked spouts ready to spew a flood of steel and sinew. Invisible to all but the small girl who now fled from the physician's chambers, there stood a wall of magic reaching more than twenty feet high.
The courtyard was a hive of frantic activity. Men, women, and children had allotted space for themselves with large blankets. Their necessities were piled high around them as they hugged each other in fear. Knights ran this way and that, creating a chaotic dance of red fabric. The air was filled with a cacophony of sound; cries of fear, whispered prayers, nervous horses, squeaky wagon wheels, clanging weapons, shuffling armor, and anxious conversation.
They were met in the courtyard by Leon and Elyan, both in full armor and bodies tensed for battle.
"What's happening, Leon?" asked Gaius, though he figured he knew the answer.
"A patrol didn't return this morning, and an archer spotted a small group of mercenaries approaching the western wall," answered the blond knight.
"It's probably a scouting party, and we don't have any proof it is Morgana," said Elyan, "but it would be best to be ready."
"It is she," said Dayla, drawing the knights' attention downwards. "The fox is near."
Leon and Elyan exchanged a look. Leon shook off his confusion and flipped the right side of his cape away from his shoulder to retrieve something attached to his belt. He pulled forth a perfectly curled ram's horn. It had been stained a deep charcoal color, and in between each ridge was a small chain of gold, connecting to a golden brace in the center. Green gems that sparkled unnaturally in the light were set all the way round the brace and it was hung from a polished silver chain.
"The horn of Héafodwóð. Finally found it in all that mess down there," he laughed.
Dayla took it and smiled at him. "Thank you. Hopefully we will not need his help."
Elyan nodded. "Even telling the people that it is an illusion won't quite dispel the panic. The warning bell will be rung four times in quick succession should we require you to use it."
Dayla nodded and looked to Gaius. The old man put a hand on her shoulder and Leon pointed back toward the palace. "Go to the council chambers. If anything happens, Elyan and myself will be there to protect you."
"What about Emrys?" asked Dayla.
It took a long moment of thinking for Leon and Elyan to remember who exactly she was talking about. Leon gritted his teeth and thought. The small girl and the old man could hardly be expected to carry the lanky man that far into the palace, and the looks in their eyes told him there was no chance of them leaving Merlin to his slumber. Even he wasn't upset with the warlock enough to want him left alone during a siege. He stood straight and his eyes wandered the courtyard, Elyan doing the same. The dark-skinned knight shot his hand out suddenly, jogging over to a younger knight that looked to be on his way toward the battlements.
"Sir Bedivere!" he called. The man turned at his name. He was a tall man with almond-colored skin and a handsome face. Leon jogged over to him and grabbed his shoulder, urging the man toward Gaius and Dayla.
"Go with Gaius and fetch one of his patients. Bring the patient and the girl to the council chambers and barricade the doors as well as you are able."
"The council chambers, Sir?" Bedivere asked, looking between the two knights and then down to the physician and the girl.
Leon could see disappointment in the young knight's eyes. He wanted to be out with his brothers-in-arms, defending his home and his king.
Leon gripped his shoulder. "This is a duty of utmost importance. You must ensure their safety."
Bedivere's disappointment vanished almost instantly when he saw the severity in Leon's eyes. He was not being taken off of the front lines as punishment; it was for an important duty. He bowed his head a little at the two senior knights. "You have my word, I will protect them with my life."
Leon and Elyan took turns clasping the young knight's arm and Bedivere hurried off with Gaius and Dayla. Leon looked to Elyan and the two then looked out over the packed courtyard. Battle was not unfamiliar. Battle was all Leon had known for more than twelve years; he had been in battles of magic and of swords. But this… this was far different from any battle he had ever fought. The simple anticipation was oppressive, and the fact that the city was absolutely overflowing with citizens didn't help the matter. Still, they were citizens of Camelot. They were resolute and prepared for such emergencies and although there was no shortage of fear, there was also the faith they all held for their king and his knights.
Leon hoped that news of the king's absence did not reach the general populace. In any other kingdom, this would create panic and riots. In Camelot, the citizens were more likely to rise to defend their home themselves; tailors and jewelers grabbing simple crafting tools to fend off the attackers. They would celebrate the king's 'escape' knowing that whatever happened to them, their sovereign remained safe.
Such a happening would devastate any knight. They were sworn to protect the citizens, not the other way around. Leon knew that any knight of Camelot would rather die than see their people rising to the fight and being inevitably cut down.
Elyan glanced around at the people that filled the open courtyard. How was it possible for him to so love a group of people he did not know? Every time he felt the weight of his chain mail come down on his shoulders, the love for this kingdom, its ruler, and its people swelled in his breast until he felt he would burst. His love for Arthur had only been the start of his loyalty. Over the years, he watched the kingdom flourish; came to love his brothers-in-arms, and fell completely for the hardy people that lived within its borders. He was no stranger to war or to conflict. He knew there was no way for all of the Knights to come back from this fight. But if he had his way, not a single citizen would perish in this.
His anger toward their unseen attackers mounting, he glanced to Leon, seeing many of the same thoughts running through the older knight's mind. With no words between them, they ran toward the front gate of the city.
Elsewhere, Gaius, Dayla, and Sir Bedivere threw open the physician chamber doors and the old man hurried the knight into the back room. "He's asleep on the bed there," he said.
Gaius began to pull sheets and supplies from one of the many cupboards around the room. They heard a loud screech and Dayla saw Sir Bedivere freeze with his hands raised at his sides. She hurried into the room to see Frio shifting her weight from foot to foot upon Merlin's chest, her wings wide, her beak open, and her feathers ruffled at Bedivere's attempt to retrieve the sleeping servant.
"Frio, he is here to help!" cried Dayla, dashing in to grab her green cloak off of her bedroll. She threw it over one thin arm and then offered the other to Frio. Bedivere found he didn't particularly care for the idea of the bird's sharp talons wrapping around the little girl's arm, but he wasn't going to get near the boy with the creature there. He watched as Dayla soothed the great bird with a few strokes to her back and a gentle embrace. When Dayla hurried back out the room, Frio scurried after her, but not before shooting what Bedivere thought was a nasty look at him.
He wasted no time and easily lifted Merlin into his arms, adjusting him and then ducking out of the room. "What has happened to Merlin?" he asked, looking at the man's sleeping face. He couldn't deny his concern. Merlin was a slight, goofy, and clumsy person but his years and experience as Arthur's servant had garnered a great amount of respect among all of the knights. Bedivere would freely admit that he looked up to him.
"Nevermind that, just get these two to the council chambers at once!" cried Gaius, setting down a bundle of clean bandages and moving to pull a few stacked cots out of a corner.
"But you must come with us, Gaius!" cried the druid, tying her cloak in place around her neck.
Gaius placed a hand on her shoulder. "I'm afraid I can't, Dayla. I am the physician. I must be prepared to tend to the injured."
Dayla looked torn. She looked up at the unfamiliar knight, then back at the physician and nodded. "Be careful, Gaius," she said quickly. She glanced to Frio, waved at her, and the two followed the river of red fabric that flowed behind Bedivere out the door.
As they walked, Dayla did her best to hide behind the tall knight without stepping on the large cloak. She heard many exclamations from servants and nobles alike as they spotted the familiar limp form in Bedivere's arms. She was grateful that few paid attention to her. Even so, she pulled her cloak around her, effectively hiding the symbol on her shoulder. She could feel a few eyes linger on the green fabric and large bird that tailed the knight, but no one spoke to her.
To Bedivere's surprise, there were six knights standing before the council chamber doors. Bedivere approached and hefted Merlin higher into his arms. "I am to barricade these two within the chambers under Sir Leon's orders." The men nodded and stood aside, one of them swinging the door open for him. Dayla and Frio rushed past his legs as he stopped in the doorway and looked back to the guards. "Without Merlin's help, Gaius will need as much assistance as he can get. Rally some servants to go and help with fetching and carrying."
One of the smaller guards saluted the knight and scurried off to his task. Bedivere entered the room and the guards shut the door.
"My lady!" he cried, bowing as best he could with Merlin in his arms. Gwen stood from where she had been greeting Frio. Dayla was running from where the queen was standing and toward one of the large windows. "I thought you were meant to be in the royal chambers!"
The queen was dressed more commonly than Bedivere had ever seen her. She wore a beige tunic with a thick leather vest hugging tight around her torso. Her legs were wrapped in dark leggings and she wore thick leather boots. "I wish not to hide while my kingdom is attacked," she said, hurrying to the large table where the council met. "Lay Merlin here, Sir Bedivere."
The knight responded quickly, gently lowering the sleeping man onto the dark wooden table. "What's wrong with him?" he asked.
Gwen shook her head. "That is not a story for here." She brushed her hand over Merlin's forehead and sighed, looking up at Bedivere again. "I assume you were sent by Leon."
Before Bedivere could answer, their attention was turned to the window where Dayla stood. They now noticed that the girl had been chanting and now threw her hands into the air toward the glass. After a moment, she lowered them and looked down at Frio. The bird hopped forward and nuzzled her leg for a pet, which Dayla happily obliged.
Bedivere looked back at Gwen. "Yes, my lady. I am to protect you and the girl."
The queen placed a hand on Merlin's shoulder. "And Merlin as well." Bedivere looked suddenly embarrassed, as though he were caught forgetting something important. "All will be lost if he were to die."
The knight wasn't entirely sure how to respond to such a statement, but it was not his place to question the queen. "Of course, my lady!"
Just as Dayla looked ready to join the conversation, the very stone beneath their feet shook. A plume of black smoke accompanied a deafening explosion and Dayla ran to the queen's side, clinging to her leg. Gwen felt sadness clutch at her heart as she felt the girl's small hands trembling through the fabric of her breeches. She knelt and enveloped the druid in a hug. Dayla seemed surprised at the action for a moment before she wrapped her arms around Guinevere's neck and held on like she would fall if she let go. Gwen looked up to the window at the smoke rising from the lower town.
"It's starting."
~ooOoo~
The ride on the second day seemed to regress into the feel of the one on the first; with an odd amount of tension in the air. Gwaine seemed in good spirits, regularly checking the healed over wound in his leg as though he wasn't entirely convinced the hole had closed. For a reason Arthur couldn't fathom, the knight would occasionally poke at the large bruise that still sat across the width of his thigh. Percival was stoic and quiet as always, occasionally swatting like a fussy mother at Gwaine's hand as the roguish knight messed with his leg. The ride was outwardly silent, but Arthur's head was spinning and throbbing. A dull ache had seated itself behind his nose and occasionally dragged his attention out of his head and into the outside world.
Following the invisible golden thread had become almost second nature by this point, and so almost all of Arthur's attention was consumed by emotions that were pouring from the sword. He glanced down at the gem a few times, as though expecting Merlin to finally speak, but nothing came out. There was just the gloomy silence that hung over them like a thick blanket. The sadness didn't seem to suit the situation. It was clear to both Arthur and his servant that they were close to their destination, and they had successfully healed Gwaine's leg. So why was the king being mentally suffocated by sadness and regret?
It was past midday when they finally decided to give the horses a quick rest. It didn't much feel like a rest to anyone other than the animals, though. The knights and the king were constantly on guard, scanning the surrounding trees and bushes for a sign of another ambush. They remained on their feet as they munched on bread and cheese and sipped from their water skins. They were getting ready to set off on what Arthur figured was the last leg of their journey when he groaned and smacked the hilt of Excalibur.
"Alright Merlin," he grumbled, mounting his horse and fixing the gem with a glare, despite the fact that he knew the sheathed sword would prevent Merlin from seeing it. "What is wrong with you? Your mood has been giving me a headache all day."
"That headache is not me. You used powerful magic last night. Your body just wasn't ready for it."
The fact that Merlin decided to comment on the headache and not on the mood caused a wave of annoyance that Arthur hoped made it into the sword. "That doesn't answer my question," the king growled. "You've been quiet all day."
It wasn't until Arthur and his knights had spurred their horses into a canter that Merlin finally answered.
"Being given this amount of time just to think isn't all that healthy."
Arthur groaned. That hadn't really answered anything. He glanced back to Gwaine and Percival, whose faces effectively told him they had no understanding to offer either. He looked forward again, checking the golden thread once, and then turned his concentration inward. Under normal circumstances, Arthur figured, Merlin had every right to avoid explaining his feelings. They were both men and thus it was hardly appropriate to delve too much into putting words to what they were feeling. But at the moment, his own emotions were being invaded and he found it difficult not to retreat into the part of his mind that was colored with Merlin's and search for the answer that the servant seemed reluctant to give.
Among the pride and happiness that surrounded Merlin's thoughts of him, Arthur found clouds of sadness that seemed to stem from the dark-haired knight that rode behind him. As the clouds began to form around other thoughts and people Arthur couldn't quite make out, they turned from sadness into regret; one looming high above the others. The image was hazy and Arthur struggled to make it out, but as his subconscious worked, a realization struck him.
"You're thinking of the ones you couldn't save," mused Arthur. Gwaine and Percival gave up on eavesdropping as the horses' hooves drowned out anything Arthur was saying.
"The ones I didn't save," corrected Merlin after a long moment of silence. There was a mild bitterness in his tone that the king could tell was directed inward. "There are those I could have saved. But I didn't... out of fear."
Shame trickled out of the sword and into Arthur's mind and the king couldn't help but sigh. "You expect too much," Arthur said after a pause. "It's impossible to save everyone." He could instantly feel Merlin rejecting the idea.
"I had the power to do something, but I didn't." The hazy image that Arthur's mind was still attempting to decipher loomed again as Merlin's thoughts turned to it. "Fear, inexperience, uncertainty; I can have all the excuses I could ever want. But in the end it doesn't matter. My inaction caused suffering."
Arthur opened his mouth to say something, but the guilt that weighed in his mind forced his mouth closed again. What could he say? Guilt pounded in his heart whenever his men were killed in a faraway land. He wasn't sure how to respond- or even if he had the right to- to the emotions swimming around in their heads. He couldn't honestly say he wouldn't be thinking the same way.
Merlin fell quiet and Arthur turned his mind back to that overwhelming thought; the incoherent face that his subconscious had been attempting to decipher. At last an image began to appear; a beautiful girl with deep brown eyes and a warm smile. She was tired and her clothes torn, but it diminished none of her loveliness. Slowly, a name emerged.
"Who's Freya?" the king asked.
Arthur found he suddenly couldn't breathe. A force of raw emotion hit him in the gut and after gaping like a fish for a few beats, he sucked in air and felt tears spring to his eyes. A powerful love was weighed down with regret, pain, and longing. He felt like he was drowning and he hunched over his saddle, clutching a hand to his breast as though he feared his heart would burst from it.
"Sire!" called Percival, speeding his mare to trot along side his sovereign. "Are you alright?"
Arthur kept his eyes focused on his stallion's mane and nodded weakly. "I'm fine," he insisted. Percival stared at him for a moment, but fell back in line with Gwaine when the king waved him off.
It took several minutes for Arthur to recover from the blow. He didn't need the answer to his question, nor did he need to ask anything about the image. The impact of those emotions had told him all he needed to know. He cleared his throat roughly, and in an attempt to steer both his and Merlin's mind away from the girl, he allowed a question that had been dancing around the outskirts of his consciousness for hours to form into words.
"Merlin... can I ask you something?" he mumbled. He doubted that if not for their connection, the warlock would not have heard him. "Could you have saved my father?"
Guilt socked him in the stomach again, far stronger than he had expected and he felt Percival and Gwaine dash to ride beside him again as he hunched in his saddle. "Arthur, what's happening?" Gwaine demanded, concern thick in his tone.
Arthur allowed their gait to slow to a trot. He waved off their concern and sighed as they fell behind him just a little. He knew Merlin couldn't quite help the feelings that wound up slamming into Arthur's mind, but that didn't mean he had to hold back the annoyance that he hoped doused the gem. A small wisp of thought meandered into his head in response to the outburst of feeling as though Merlin were saying 'then don't ask provocative questions'.
In spite of Merlin's silent response Arthur could tell he would answer vocally as well, but it took him some time to form the words. Finally, Merlin's voice echoed around him; subdued and weighted with guilt and regret.
"I tried Arthur. I swear to you I tried everything I could." He felt his servant sigh heavily. "But Morgana got to him first."
Arthur opened his mouth to protest, but something struck him before he could speak. The memory of an old withered sorcerer with high cheekbones and strangely familiar eyes.
"You were the old man," he stated, fighting to keep the awe out of his tone. Behind him, Percival and Gwaine exchanged a strange look.
"The old man that beat us up?!" shouted Gwaine suddenly, making Arthur jump and effectively bursting the heavy bubble of solemnness that had descended upon the traveling party.
There was a bizarre silence that followed as Arthur looked behind him at the two knights; his perplexed expression morphing slowly into one that was clearly attempting to hold in laughter. The two men exchanged another furtive glance. It had been a silent agreement among the knights that having an old man (sorcerer or no) get the better of five of Camelot's finest knights was something that would never be spoken of again. Thus, Percival then aimed a powerful glare at Gwaine, the likes of which Arthur had never before seen on the Bear's face.
Arthur's throat had tightened so much in an attempt to not laugh, that his voice was broken and mildly high-pitched when he said, "He what?"
Seeing now that the king had an interest in the tale that should never have been mentioned, Percival punched Gwaine in the arm, nearly unhorsing the smaller man. Arthur turned back to the front and laughed at the gem.
"You beat them up?"
There was a strange mix of satisfaction and humor in Merlin's tone when he spoke. "I wouldn't say I beat them up."
"Only tossed us around like pies, is all!" argued Gwaine.
"That'll teach you to pick on an old man!" laughed Merlin. Arthur couldn't stop the smile that spread across his mouth. Finally, the gloom and guilt had lifted away from the trapped warlock. It was refreshing to hear him laugh.
"You're not an old man!" cried Percival, finally joining the argument.
"That's not just a disguise. That spell actually ages me, so yes, I was an old man. And you were picking on me," defended Merlin.
"But was it necessary to use us as a stepping stool?" demanded Gwaine. Arthur burst into chuckles.
"You'd be surprised how difficult mounting a horse is when-" Merlin cut himself off and Arthur felt his humor instantly vanish. Arthur slowed his horse, the knights behind him followed suit. The king looked to the ground before him and could see the golden thread stretching into a particularly thick area of brush. Though there was no visible indication, he could feel that the end of the trail ended not too far in front of them. He motioned for the horses to stop and the three dismounted.
The sun had vanished some time ago, though the sky was just now beginning to turn a burnt orange with sunset. They stood in the massive shadow of a mountain that towered above the trees. In the middle of the heavy brush, it would be easy to look up and mistake the gray stone for a storm-brewing sky. They were approaching a small face of the mountain, as though god had taken a knife and sliced off a section, leaving a somewhat flat area into which a cave had been carved.
The knights and their king drew their swords and Merlin let his magic bathe the area as they neared the small clearing that had been created in front of the cave's great mouth. He was disturbed by the lack of life. Trees, bushes, and ferns were plentiful, but the utter lack of wildlife set off alarms in his head. There were burrows in the ground, but no rodents. There were nests in the trees, but the skies were still. He could feel Arthur respond to his discomfort and his grip on Excalibur's hilt tightened.
Dark magic was emanating from the cave like a suffocating fog coming down from the mountains on a cold morning. It was like all of nature leaned away from it and even the trees and grass would uproot themselves and flee if they could. Merlin knew that, had he any lungs at the moment, he would be finding it physically difficult to breathe. Luckily, his companions didn't have his sensitivity to magic.
Even so, Arthur could feel the dark oppression. It was just outside the realm of his senses, but he could feel the discomfort flowing from the sword and the golden thread faded in and out of his mind's eye as though it struggled to maintain itself in this atmosphere. More than anything, the silence that surrounded them was disturbing. What Merlin had sensed with his magic, Arthur now heard with his ears- or rather did not hear.
As the skies darkened above them, the glow from a campfire ahead of them became more pronounced and they eventually spotted where the trees ended. Without a word between them, they crouched behind a thick set of bushes that lead into the clearing on a slight decline and peered down into the makeshift camp.
The clearing was small and man-made, as it was dotted with small stumps and the remains of bushes were piled along the treeline. Small white tents had been pitched here and there surrounding two large bonfires where most of the men were huddled against the autumn air. Three or four meandered along the edge of the clearing with swords or maces in their hands- no doubt looking for them- and a few others stood in small groups chatting among themselves. There were druids in long green robes, bandits and mercenaries wearing all manner of hide, and even Saxons with red serpents emblazoned across their chests. Arthur estimated there were no fewer than fifteen in the clearing alone. The cave opening yawned behind the men and seemed to be carved from the great mountain itself. Above sat a flat plain where Arthur could just barely see a few more men meandering, crossbows clutched in muscled arms. Torches flared within the depths of the opening, but it did little to dispel the feeling that it was a portal into nowhere. The idea of walking into it gave Merlin the distinct impression of wading into a river of liquid filth. He silently apologized to Arthur as he felt the king scrunch his nose at the imagery that accidentally wandered from the sword and into his head.
Arthur sized the lot up. After defeating two earthen golems his confidence in their abilities was fairly decent, but it plummeted when Merlin spoke up suddenly.
"There are more in the forests," he said. Suddenly, panic struck Arthur squarely in the gut and Merlin shouted, "They knew we were coming!"
The three knights leapt to their feet as Merlin's cry seemed to spawn the bandits from the bushes around them. Two of them threw themselves at the Bear and Percival was quickly on the ground. Another appeared behind Gwaine, but the roguish knight twirled at the sound of movement behind him and slashed open the man's belly.
Information was pouring into Arthur's head, and he tried to process it as he moved. He spun on the ball of one of his feet, slashing his sword horizontally around him and toward the men he knew were behind him. They were all well out of the reach of his blade, but an explosion of white light from the sword sent them all flying backward. He looked back to the knights, where Gwaine had stabbed one of the men on Percival's torso and the larger knight was throwing the other attacker into a tree like a child's toy. He reclaimed his sword and accepted Gwaine's offered hand. Seeing no more surging from the brush, they all leapt into the clearing. All of the men they had been watching earlier had their eyes upon them, and most of them were charging up the small incline at them. They could only guess that the ones that hung back were either druids or sorcerers.
Before the first man made contact with the knights, a blast of fire shot at them from one of the druids. Arthur dashed between Gwaine and Percival to the front and sliced neatly through the flames, which extinguished themselves instantly. The two knights rushed past their king again to engage the men that ran at them. Arthur sensed- more than heard or saw- the firing of crossbow bolts above the cave and aimed Excalibur's point at the men that stood there. He felt his eyes burn and a wave of magic sent the bolts right back into their owners, prompting a chorus of wails immediately after.
He ran to his knights, who stood back to back against a circle of enemies that was forming around them. Arthur placed his back against their shoulders as a Saxon closed the ring behind him. At his left, Gwaine smiled.
The dark-haired knight through his head back and laughed. "My kind of odds!" he shouted. Percival smirked over his shoulder as the group descended on them.
The clearing descended into chaos. The sounds of steel on steel was only drowned out by the shouts of the sorcerers crying out their spells and the screams of the dying. Arthur did his best to keep himself between the large cave opening and his knights, allowing him to keep an eye on the few magic-users that he could tell were still casting. But as he carved open a man's chest with a swipe downward, his eye caught something new; a man standing just outside the cave. Unlike the others, he was clad in robes of fine make. His head was tipped forward in what looked to be concentration, his long black hair spilling onto his shoulders and front.
As the battle raged on, Arthur's mind began to tire and processing all of the information that was being poured into his head like it was a goblet caused his focus on the men in front of him to falter. The magic that bathed the area showed him every snapped branch, every chanting druid, and every battle-ready bandit within the area. He could hardly tell the step of a bandit twenty yards away from that of the two knights at his back.
His world came into sharp focus, however, when a pain in his side drew a cry from his throat and he doubled over. He held a hand against his side where a blade had slammed into him and quite possibly snapped a rib. The man raised his sword for another blow and Arthur could feel Merlin's magic well with anger. There was a deep thump in Arthur's chest and the man was sent flying.
"Arthur, ground!" Merlin cried.
Not needing further prompting, Arthur shoved the tip of the sword into the earth. Once again, the magic of the earth exploded into his vision. The sword grew roots of energy and they spiraled outwards, collecting at every tree that Arthur could see. There was a deep rumbling that seemed to thump in time with the earth's heartbeat.
Arthur looked up at the sound of wails and cries of panic. Those that remained alive on the ground began flailing and those that were standing bent and began batting at their ankles with fists and weapons alike. In the dim light, it took a few moments for Arthur to work out that the roots of the trees had forsaken the ground at Emrys' call and rose up to fight their enemies. Arthur smirked and considered taking a moment to look over his wound, but since he had fought his way down the small hill, he decided to return and check on his knights.
Arthur barely had time to turn to them before he was wracked by a fire that spread from his right hand through his body. He heard Merlin scream, and he didn't immediately realize that he was wailing as well. His head felt like it would burst and his limbs locked up in pain. A door slammed shut in his mind. There was no more mix of emotions. He felt like he no longer shared his mind with another. The sword slipped from his grasp and he felt the earth embrace him as he collapsed into the dirt.
I apologize for the cliffhanger. I had intended to write the entire next confrontation but this chapter was getting a little long. The next part is planned out in pretty much every detail, so it shouldn't be long before it is up.
Dont... don't quote me on that. X.X