Again... waaaaaaay too long in between posts. Like some of the other chapters, I hit a wall toward the end of this one. It sat unedited for a few weeks because I just couldn't get my brain to WRITE it. But, it has been overcome and we can now continue!
Review Responses
MegamiTenshiHime: I'll let you in on a secret... *whispers* He didn't do it.
Aurora-dawn89: Who me? Nevah!
Emrys Is Merlin: Thanks. :) Honestly, it is great to have the whole thing behind me. And thank you!
Felicity P: Thank you so much!
IndiaMoore: Hmmm... Maybe Aurora is right... I guess I am evil. But what fanfiction writer isn't at least a little evil?
Nebriniel Peredhil: Awesome! Thanks! I agonized over the fight scenes in that chapter and this one, so it is great to know that it shows!
1983Sarah: Update in your inbox! Lol I just got an image of you walking out to your mailbox an opening it only to find me crammed in there going, "I WROTE MOAR"
Guest: Quite. XD
Aerist: I love seeing people from Heart of Camelot on here! *hugs* Like I said in the message, I have been wondering when someone was going to bring up the erstwhile dragon. He has actually been called already. Here's the excerpt where Dayla blew the horn:
"A strange and haunting cry echoed among the towers of the castle. Huddled together at the top of the steps, the knights and their queen looked to the sky at the inhuman sound."
I'm sneaky like that. As for why no one has seen him... you will have to wait and find out. But you aren't the only one that has noticed the general lack of dragon.
Geckoshan: Yep... like Aurora and I said... evil. Or wicked since I am a Broadway fan. Lol
Booklover0608: Working on it. XD
amertka: I sorry it took so long. Hopefully you enjoy!
Inhaling a lungful of dust and mortar, Arthur decided, was a worse way to wake up than most anything- aside from with one's forearms shackled to a wall, of course.
But he did wake up.
The stone he had been almost certain would crush him, or at least break something (be it a limb or even his head) had left him unharmed. In fact, there seemed to be stone piled around him in every direction, but he, Dayla, and Frio sat in a small circle devoid of anything but dust.
Dayla coughed roughly and pulled her dust-laden cloak from around her shoulders. She patted it a few times before giving it up as far too saturated and laying it to the side. Frio clucked unhappily and shook her large body, sending a fresh wave of mortar into the air and drawing more coughs from the two humans.
Arthur opened his mouth to inquire what exactly had saved them from the falling stones, but his eyes caught sight of the empty hall in front of him and he leaped to his feet. He opened his senses. The golden thread shot down the hall, and thankfully not up the stairs toward Gaius' chambers. His sense of urgency to follow the retreating witch deflated a little when shuffling at his feet drew his attention down to the child brushing dust out of her hair.
He grabbed her arm and hauled her upright, possibly more roughly than he should have. "What are you doing here?" he demanded in a voice that reminded him strangely of his father. "You shouldn't be anywhere near Morgana!"
The defiant glare in her eyes took him aback. "It's my fault she got in!" she cried back. "I have to help!"
"You can help by calling Kilgharrah," urged Merlin as Arthur stood straight again.
She pulled on the silver chain that hung across her chest to show the king the Héafodwóð. "I did. I called him after the queen sent Emrys and I away to hide, but I haven't seen or heard him."
Arthur felt the coiled magic in his body relax a little as though the arms wrapped around him were now stretching away to search the air above them.
"No... he isn't here," Merlin conceded.
"What do we do?" asked Dayla, looking down at Frio. The bird shook a little again.
Arthur shook his head and his grip on Excalibur tightened. "Keeping this idiot alive is more pressing right now," said the king. He looked down at Dayla. "Try blowing it again and then hide," he commanded, emphasizing the last word.
He didn't wait for an answer and began throwing himself over the rocks to get to the empty hallway, only sparing a quick glance down the hall where the fight had started and raising an eyebrow at the pieces of armor that were now composed completely of stone and had become part of the walls. The imagery was mildly disturbing; it appeared as though the walls had begun to devour four fully-armored knights.
The golden thread lead them back toward the heart of the castle and down a few stairways before they encountered the first body. A guard lay in a strange position with his head hanging at an odd angle. Arthur growled under his breath at the sight and pushed his legs faster.
He dove into the bowels of the castle, and in each hallway there was at least one slain guard; a pair of knights in one. His heart raced and his fists clenched tighter with each body he passed, but as he rounded the corner that lead down into the caves that lay beneath the palace, he saw something that made his heart nearly stop.
Three bodies were slumped against the wall among a few sacks of belongings. A strapping man no older than Arthur's father would have been lay with a protective arm around the shoulders of a woman of about the same age. On the ground in front of them lay a man Arthur's age, his eyes wide open but glossed in death. Not a blemish or scratch lay on the bodies and all three mouths were open in terror.
Arthur's blood boiled so loudly in his ears that he barely heard the threat from the five figures that approached him from the iron doors of Kilgharrah's former prison. In an instant, four Saxons had surrounded him, swords gleaming in the torchlight and he could feel magic welling several yards behind them where stood a single cloaked druid.
He looked up at the robed man some distance away and he could feel the four Saxon's shiver and back down ever-so-slightly. Magic swelled in his body, spilling into the hall around him and saturating the floors and ceiling. He gripped Excalibur tight and he could feel magic pouring from the gem like a waterfall, bubbling, tossing, and turning like a boiling pot of water.
Magic erupted from the druid and a wall of power rumbled down the hallway. Arthur needed no words. His arms tensed and with a cry of rage he launched the sword at the druid. The sword flew like an arrow loosed from an archer's bow. The blade slid easily through the wall of magic, a small burst of wind erupting from the tip and the wall instantly dispersed. The sword continued its flight until the blade found the druid's heart and felled him with the power of a battering ram.
Arthur kept his hand outstretched and the instant the blood began to pool beneath the slain druid, the sword pulled itself free from the body and shot back to its owner, the hilt sliding easily into his hand. The stunned Saxons didn't have time to gather their wits before a blast of magic slammed them against the walls and floor hard enough that a few sickening cracks echoed down the corridor.
Arthur spent no time admiring his handiwork. He charged down the steps that lead to the dragon's caves.
~ooOoo~
There were explosions and cries of the dying. There was magic shaking loose dust from the masonry above. There was a battle going on above his head and Sir Bedivere was bound by his vow to crouch in the dragon's cavern. He flipped his sword over in his hands and stood to stretch his legs.
He froze.
Not ten feet up the path leading to the castle stood Morgana.
His grip on his sword tightened. The witch smiled at him; a curve of the lips which could almost be considered friendly if not for the wickedness in her eyes.
"Another brave knight of Camelot," she muttered, not bothering to hide her sarcasm. "There's no end to you, is there?"
Bedivere did his best to calm the shivering in his hands and the trembling of his legs. "There will never be an end..." he began, and Morgana relished his near inability to finish his sentence. He swallowed and continued. "... to the good men in this city who will rise to stop people like you."
"Noble blah blah..." yawned Morgana, waving a blithe hand at him. "People like me, you say?" Her smile vanished. "You know nothing." Her eyes flashed and Bedivere tensed violently, but no blow came. She merely rolled her eyes as the gold faded and glared at him. "I have not the time nor the patience to search for Emrys' body," she said after a pause, a perusal of the room, and a quick glance over her shoulder at the entrance to the caverns. "You will tell me where it is."
A mild look of bafflement overtook Bedivere's face at the sound of the name, but he quickly adjusted his stance. "You will get nothing from me," he growled.
Morgana stared him down for a long moment, her black eyes boring into Bedivere's. She looked him over hungrily, eyeing the way his elbows shook with the effort to keep his hands still and relishing the way his cape shivered with the trembling of his body. "Will I not?" she mused quietly.
As she held out her hand, Bedivere tensed again, and this time something followed: pain. It was as though her extended fingers had embedded themselves in his gut, took hold of his organs, and began to twist. He was on one knee in seconds, one foot remaining stubbornly on the floor and his fist trembling violently around the hilt of his sword. The agony twisted and roiled in his middle, to the point that he briefly wondered if it would be worth it to simply fall on his sword, if only to bring it to an end. But he gritted his teeth and held his breath, staring defiantly up at her. She didn't seem bothered by his look, though. A fleeting glimpse of twisted delight danced across her eyes and she relaxed her hand.
The pain was gone as soon as it had come, and Bedivere's stubborn foot now gave out in relief. Rivulets of sweat trickled down his jaw and dripped from his nose as he stared at the floor. His mind seared empty with agony, it took a moment of collecting himself to recall where he was and who was standing before him. When he did, he scrambled to his feet and attempted to shake his brain back into function. He held his sword out and glared.
"Oh, that was unpleasant," cooed Morgana, her tone dripping with false concern. "I'd hate to see you have to go through that again."
Even in his hazy mind, Bedivere interpreted the threat and his gaze steeled even further. "You will get nothing from me!" he cried again, his voice hitching in his throat.
Morgana's false concern vanished and she sighed. "I should carry a Nathair around with me," she lamented. "Though I suppose this has its own charm." She smiled and her hand jutted out again.
The agony was back and Bedivere was on the ground again. This time he couldn't stop the scream that tore from his throat and bounced off of the walls of the massive cavern. After what felt like an eternity (though probably wasn't more than a few moments), another sound registered in the back of Bedivere's mind and the agony relented once more. His body shook in the wake of the pain, but he managed to coerce his fingers into once again curling around the hilt of his sword. Slowly he raised his head to look at his assailant, and what he saw filled his body with renewed strength.
Arthur stood several yards away from the cavern entrance, Excalibur held aloft and his blue eyes shifting anxiously between Morgana and the wounded knight. Bedivere forced himself to his feet and sent his king a pained smile.
"You made quick work of the Saxons, I see," she sighed, fiddling with the stone at her chest again. "Quicker than I expected." She flipped her hand blithely. "Not that it matters, but the little Viliane tribe has proven to be a thorn in my side worthy of Emrys himself," she chuckled, glancing down at the golden setting that held the Emrys stone against Excalibur's hilt..
"Enough, Morgana!" shouted Arthur, aiming the tip of his sword at the witch's heart. "If you truly know of Emrys' power, then you should know it is pointless for you to continue." There was a strange surge of pride from the sword and Arthur could feel Merlin smiling at the recognition. What a strange servant he had: the man's ego did not swell at the king's declaration. Instead, humble appreciation filled the warlock's corner of his mind, as though nothing in this life was worth more than the king's praise.
"Pointless?" laughed Morgana, as though she couldn't believe the king had suggested such a thing. "You speak as though you have the ability to fight me, much less my army, off," she said, flipping a hand at Excalibur. There was a strange change that came over her eyes, accompanying the bizarre smile that curved her lips. "And even if you did..." she motioned to the stone ceiling above them, "No matter what happens above us, I have won today. Camelot is rotten to its core."
She stood up straight and a strange passion entered her eyes; a passion that Arthur easily recognized as that of a person driven by their own sense of justice. It was a look that consumed the eyes of many sorcerers that he had met over the years.
"I will purge this rotten city and bring about the return of magic. Until now, I had always thought that I was alone in this endeavor. But as it turns out, Brother, just as you have your little traitorous warlock, I have the tribe of Wylt and items with power enough to make the great Emrys cower in your citadel," she cried, motioning at the stone walls around them. The passion in her eyes suddenly warped and twisted, and a matching manic grin overcame her mouth. "What has been started today will spell the end of your city, Arthur. So you see, you can kill every Saxon and mercenary in the city and it will do you little-!"
Her voice caught in her throat and she gasped as her body went rigid.
"And if we kill you?" demanded Bedivere, shoving his blade just a bit deeper into the witch's side.
Morgana doubled over, one arm flinging in a frantic arch. Bedivere was launched from his feet and into a nearby wall, a crack echoing as his body slammed into stone. He fell to the floor and lay still.
"Bedivere!" shouted Arthur, rage exploding in his mind as he watched his knight fall. By the time his eyes moved back to the witch, she had straightened and was eyeing the tear in her dress like it concerned her more than the hole in her flesh.
After a moment, she scoffed at the knight's limp form. "I am destined for far too much to be killed here," she growled.
Magic burst into Arthur's chest."Méce líhtung; ýtan þosm!(1)" he shouted.
Arthur needed no prompting from Merlin or his magic for the king's body to succumb to his newfound instincts. He swung his sword in a horizontal line. A blade of light exploded from the steel and flew toward the witch's middle. Morgana's eyes shot up at Arthur's cry. She punched an open palm toward the attack, and a burst of magic split the blade, dispersing it into the air at her sides.
"I'll admit you are more skilled than I expected with your ill-gotten magic, Brother," she spat and Arthur could feel magic coiling around her. Merlin's magic flared in response and the cavern was filled to the brim with power like a heavy fog. "But not nearly skilled enough." Her eyes shot to the ground beneath the king's feet. "Cyning áetan!(2)"
The sound of cracking stone split the air and the caverns themselves seemed to groan at the mutilation. The ground yawned open beneath Arthur's feet and suddenly he was falling into the earth.
With a flash of her eyes, the stone snapped shut like a mouth devouring a meal and she smiled, feeling Merlin's magic tossing and turning angrily beneath the surface. She spun and allowed the golden thread to appear in her mind again. Before she could take a step, a screech halted her. The sound was swiftly followed by a large weight plowing into her head, and talons once again assaulted her scalp.
Frio flapped frantically as she aimed her beak again and again at the witch, her talons gripping hair and flesh as much as she could. Morgana screamed in rage and flailed her arms at the bird.
"Cursed beast!" she screeched. As her arms continued to fail in capturing the buzzard, a burst of power exploded from her entire body. "Ábréotan feðrberend!(3)"
Frio cried out in agony as her body was propelled away from the witch. She hit the cavern wall and lie still.
Morgana wiped blood from her cheek as a stream of red dripped from a deep gash in her temple. "Good riddance, vermin," she spat.
"Frio!"
Morgana turned at the cry. Crouched behind a small grouping of rock was the small magical child from before. The rage drained from her eyes. "You survived the rockfall as well, did you?" she asked softly. A gentle smile suddenly overcame her lips and she let out a small breath. "I'm glad. I wish no harm upon those who have magic." She craned her neck a little to catch sight of the druid mark on the girl's shoulder. "Even those from the Viliane tribe. We must all work together toward freedom."
"You-!" Dayla's voice failed her and she fought to control the trembling that overcame her at Morgana's voice. "You fight for yourself!" she squeaked, staring defiantly up at the witch.
A strange pity entered Morgana's eyes. "You misunderstand, little one," she cooed, placing her hands on her knees to look at the girl's eye-level. Dayla stumbled backwards onto her butt at the movement. "I fight for us all... all those who have been persecuted because of magic. I know for a fact that the Viliane tribe was not untouched by Uther's purge."
Dayla remained where she was for a long moment, her fingers trembling against the stone beneath her and fear clutching at her lungs. Though tears gathered at their edges, something crept into her eyes that began to outweigh the terror. "Uther didn't kill my mom and dad!" she cried, her voice stronger than before. "Cuman!"
Once again, the Emrys stone yanked away from Morgana's neck, as though attempting to free itself, but the magical chain held and it did little more than pull the witch forward half a step. The gentleness vanished from Morgana's eyes and her graceful brows knitted together. "You would do well not to make an enemy of me, Child," she growled. She extended her hand toward the druid and the tears began to stream down Dayla's cheeks, a small whimper escaping her throat.
The earth between the druid and the witch exploded upward and Arthur flew out of the very stone beneath their feet. The king's feet found the ground and he held the point of Excalibur to Morgana's heart.
"You underestimate me beyond forgiveness, Morgana," sneered Merlin.
"I thought I told you to hide," grumbled Arthur at the child behind him.
Dayla scrubbed at the tears on her face and smiled weakly. "Frio didn't want to," she said.
A burst of magic slammed into Arthur's head. He could feel it grip his chin and attempt to snap his neck to the side, but the magic within him held his spine intact and he glowered at Morgana. "After all that has happened, I didn't think you would want it to be that easy or quick."
Morgana flipped a hand. "I truly don't. I would prefer you watch the life drain from Emrys' eyes before you die."
"Áhredding..."
"But my mission here is more important than my desire for revenge," said the witch, the fervor entering her eyes again. "Every day, my kind is hunted and killed for the crime of simply existing."
"Líesan þín handhaef."
"The laws that my father imposed have been lifted, Morgana! Sorcery is still illegal, but no longer are people put on trial simply because they have magic!" argued Arthur, motioning with his free hand.
Morgana took a step forward and her magic surged around her. Arthur's senses were momentarily overwhelmed and he took a half step back at her outburst. "Are you truly foolish enough to believe that the persecution of magic happens only within the walls of this rotten city?!" she screeched.
"Áhredding..."
"The thoughts and ways of Uther have infected this land like a disease and simply dismantling the pyres will not be enough to save us! Even into the surrounding kingdoms, the prejudice against my kind continues. A fear has been placed into the people of the land that will not be lifted until the crest of the Pendragons has been torn from every hall, town, and household!"
"Líesan þín handhaef æt mé!(4)"
Arthur opened his mouth to answer, but nearly stumbled as his mind went silent. Magic was torn from his chest and he felt like he had been struck in the gut. He nearly dropped Excalibur, and when he regained his grip on it, his heart near stopped.
The Emrys stone was gone. The áhredding sat empty against the hilt of his sword.
He looked up to Morgana, who grinned like one of the barn cats cornering a fat rat.
"Cuman!"
Once more, Morgana jerked slightly to the side as her half of the Emrys stone jerked away from her. This time however, the chain snapped open and the gem soared away.
Dayla stood several feet behind the witch, holding the two halves of the stone and pulling the magical chain away from one of them. The broken links dropped to the floor...
… bearing the ragged marks of a bird's beak.
"Little wretch!" screeched Morgana, surging toward the child. Dayla spun on her heel and vanished around the corner and deeper into the caverns.
"Morgana!"
The witch spun around just in time to halt a swing from the king. She held out her hand, catching the sword as she had done before, but Arthur could see blood begun to ooze from beneath the blade's sharp edge.
"Not as powerful without your stolen magic, are you?" asked Arthur in a growl. With a grunt, he pushed the sword through the swing, sending Morgana flying into the wall of the cave. She quickly righted herself and glowered at him, her beautiful face twisted into an expression of rage.
"Nor are you."
Her eyes had not the chance to glow, nor had her magic a chance to collect. For the earth beneath their feet rumbled and cried out with a silent explosion that Arthur felt in the very core of his being.
It was as though a ripple was sent through the air; like a water skin had burst and liquid shot in all directions. Arthur doubted that a single inch of Camelot was not touched by the magic that now swirled around him as though he had leapt into the sea. In front of him, Morgana stumbled and though Merlin's senses had left him, Arthur could almost feel her magic writhing in the power that engulfed them.
All of nature celebrated the return of its master.
1: "Blade of light/illumination; banish darkness!"
2: "Devour the king!"
3: "Kill the feathered creature!"
4: "Áhredding... release your burden to me!"
Alright! Hopefully the wait won't be too long next time! See you soon!