I have not forgotten you all! Lol. My life has been changing a lot in the past few months and it seems that one update every two months is all I can manage, lol. Things are kiiiiiinda settling, but I don't want to say anything too concrete.
Anyway, I was able to knock this chapter out on a vacation, actually, with some help from my sister. She has actually done some awesome fanart for the story and once I convince her to post it online, I will link it. XD
Review Responses
Heart of Diamond: Oh there will be much magic, and much magics!
Aerist: Oh I appreciate reviews no matter where they come from, hun. :) And yus! He is free! Though it might not quite be what you think, lol.
MegamiTenshiHime: :) Thanks!
1983Sarah: Lol. I just imagine I would be creepy.
"Hey... hey you... new chapter... yeeeeeesssssss..."
Emrys Is Merlin & Ivara: Thanks much! That sentence has been in my head for about six chapters now. It's always fun when you finally get to write something that you have had in your ehad for a long time. Glad you liked it as much as I did! *blush*
SpangleyPony: Thank you... I have GOT to ask... is there a story behind the name SpangleyPony, coupled with a lion picture, or are you just that fantastic? XD
Rachelle Lo: Balance is something I strive for in my books; be they fanfics or originals. I love that I seemed to have maintained the balance in this one. Thanks so much!
Curiosity's Principle: As much as I try to force myself to be okay with it, I agree with you on feeling jipped. For me, the thing I wanted to see the most was the fallout of the reveal; what happened after Merlin was discovered. We didn't get that. While the reveal itself was absolutely beautiful, and we got to see Arthur and Merlin having conversations that we have waited SEASONS for, it just wasn't enough. The fifth season seemed just a little mishandled. I love in-depth reviews! Thank you so much! And it makes me blush when people say they prefer my work to season five! XD
Alright, here we go!
"Merlin?"
The echo of the call was met with silence and for a breath, both High Priestess and King stared into the darkness where the druid girl had vanished.
Morgana was the first to recover when there was no answer, and Arthur felt magic slam into his torso. All the air in his lungs rushed out of him as his back hit the ground. His neck snapped back a little and the king realized that his head was hanging over the outcropping of rock upon which they stood. Before another coherent thought could find its way into his mind, he yelped as Excalibur was magically wrenched from his grip and he watched the silver blade tumble down into the abyss of the cave below him.
Arthur's eyes whipped back around to watch Morgana turn away from him and head into the darkness where Dayla had disappeared, a wicked grin on her face.
"Merlin!" the king shouted, and still there was no response. Had Dayla been wrong about the method by which his servant could be returned to him? If that was the case, how could Merlin's magic be surrounding them so? Barely realizing it, Arthur's solution to the siege on his city was little more than the help of his warlock. And now panic began to take root, fed by the silence that answered his calls.
There was a familiar catch in the back of his mind that the king had written off as gone the moment Merlin was pulled from his mind. Suddenly, the hilt of Excalibur was in his hands again, gleaming happily at the reunion with its master. With little thought to question or wonder, Arthur curled his stomach in and heaved the blade into the air, flying at the dark from of his sister. The sword slid past her side and imbedded itself into the nearby wall. Her trek into the cave halted abruptly. She stared at the sword for a moment before looking back at Arthur, who was quickly back on his feet.
Arthur held a gloved hand out, and the sword responded immediately. It yanked itself free of the rock, sailed easily into his hand and he took up his fighting stance. "I am not helpless without my warlock," he growled.
"You are fooling yourself, dear Brother," shot the witch.
Her gloved hand punched the air, and Arthur's feet left the ground again. The impact of his armor on the stone of the wall behind him echoed loudly in the cave and sent a flurry of sparks into the air. He writhed in the grip of her magic and she smiled at his efforts. Morgana simply flicked her other hand, and Arthur's sword-laden hand slammed into the wall far to his side.
"Grúnd sé bóg ásælan.(1)"
Like a pair of blacksmith tongs, the stone behind Arthur's arm opened and clamped over his wrist and hand. He growled at her, staring directly into her black eyes in defiance. A few attempts were made to dislodge the trapped arm, but it didn't budge.
"Touched by the magic of Emrys," she mused, staring hungrily at the blade. "It seems to contain magic of its own even without his presence."
Arthur's free arm did not move as she spoke and stepped toward his trapped hand. His chest swelled in feigned confidence; she would see no fear from him. The way she eyed the ball of rock that encased his hand caused his courage to falter and he had a sense of what she would do just before it became a reality.
Morgana's slender fingers curled into a harsh- knuckled fist and the groan of rock against rock preceded a scream of pain from the King. He could hear and feel his bones break under the stress of the rock until the hilt of Excalibur was squeezed from his mangled hand.
The witch smiled with wicked satisfaction as she retrieved the blade and ran her eyes over it. Again, he felt defiled as another held Excalibur, as though every bit of him rebelled at the thought of the sword in a hand that was not his. His legs wobbled beneath him as his body attempted to cope with the agony radiating from the hand which remained firmly in the jaws of the rock behind him. He cast a glance to the ball of rock that had crushed his fingers, but then gritted his teeth, bit his tongue, and glared at her.
After a leisurely moment of examining the sword, she took it into both hands and fixed him with a honeyed stare. "Tsk tsk," she clucked. She raised the tip of the blade until it rested against the King's cheekbone. "You are ill-suited to magic, Arthur." With a flick of her hands, a shallow gash opened up on Arthur's face. He did his best not to react, but the pleasure in her eyes told him he had at least winced. "You cannot condemn it and also use it. You must be taught that lesson."
Excalibur was pointed at the ceiling of the cave; the blade aimed directly at the king's forehead. Morgana could feel every muscle in her body tense in delight.
She had barely begun her swing when the hilt was ripped from her fingers with a yelp of pain. Again, the blade flipped end over end as it tumbled into the abyss of the cave below him. Morgana watched it fall for a moment before she growled and glared at Arthur.
The smile and gaze of relief aimed over her shoulder made her blood run cold.
She whipped around and scowled.
His entire body leaned heavily on the wall of the cave, but Merlin was upright with one hand extended toward the witch. Magic flowed off of him in waves and filled the air around them. Gold colored his eyes even after his spell had been cast and as he took a breath, the magic around them swelled. Arthur felt both invigorated and nearly suffocated at the same time and from Morgana's deteriorating posture, he had the feeling she was feeing mostly the latter.
The cloud of power around them was a stark contrast to Merlin's appearance. His face was devoid of pallor and he looked thinner than normal. His thin limbs wobbled weakly under his meager weight. His neckerchief and jacket were absent and his large red shirt looked far too big for him.
"Forget about me, did you?" Merlin asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Hlaep on bæc!"
Merlin's wavering form vanished back into the darkness of the cave and a cry was heard as his small from crashed against the unyielding rock.
Morgana let a small chuckle escape her lips. "Only a little. You look horrible, Merlin," she said with no small amount of delight in her voice.
Excalibur was in Arthur's left hand in an instant. Driven by nothing more than anger and instincts garnered from a few days of sharing a mind with Merlin, he slammed the blade into the ball of rock that encased his mangled hand. A small burst of magic thrummed through his arm and the rock fell open. He lunged at Morgana, but- the sound of magic breaking rock having alerted her to his movements- she easily side-stepped. Arthur followed his sword through the swing and placed himself firmly between Morgana and his fallen servant, digging his heels in.
His lump of a right hand was used as little more than a bit of support as his left hand struggled to hold the sword correctly. Her eyes flicked over his shoulder to the fallen warlock and then back to his face.
"Sire!"
The male cry was followed immediately by a screech of pain as a crossbow bolt slammed into Morgana's back, the tip vanishing entirely into her shoulder blade. The bolt was almost instantly expelled and thrown back at the two knights standing on the stairs that lead to the castle. It ricocheted off of a stair and vanished into the cave below them.
"Gwaine! Percival!" cried Arthur, his brows coming to a point. "What are you doing here?!"
The witch grumbled something dark under her breath and turned toward the knights. Gwaine dropped the crossbow and grabbed his sword. Percival bent his knees, waiting for an attack. Morgana huffed and sped toward them, holding out a hand as she moved. With a jerk of her hand, the two knights went sailing forward and onto the ground near the king. By the time they looked up again, the last bits of her black dress were vanishing around the corner and back into the castle.
Gwaine and Percival pulled themselves to their feet and while the Bear knelt at the King's side, Gwaine rushed past them and into the darkness where Merlin had vanished.
"Forget abut me, just go stop her!" commanded the king. "If she finds any of the citizens, she is going to kill them!" he said, shoving Percival away and toward the stairs. The knight considered the command for a moment before nodding and dashing back up the stairs.
"Merlin, you got any spells for pain?" the king called once Percival was gone. He cradled his broken hand gently against his stomach.
"I- Gwaine, don't you dare," growled the servant's voice. There was a bit of weak scuffling and squabbling for a moment before Gwaine emerged from the cave with Merlin laid across his arms bridal style and Dayla trailing his heels.
"What are you doing here?" the king demanded a second time as Merlin squirmed in Gwaine's arms until the knight relented and lowered the warlock to the ground. "You were meant to stay in the physician's quarters and keep Guinevere safe."
"Because I am the good little knight that always does as he is told, eh?" laughed Gwaine. Arthur didn't seem overtly amused by the joke, and Gwaine rolled his eyes. "Even if I hadn't insisted on coming to help you, Leon told us he would run us through if we didn't." After another moment of staring, Gwaine sighed. "Four of Camelot's finest barely fit in the physician's chambers, much less are needed to guard it."
"Arthur, give me your hand."
The king's eyes snapped to the warlock and he shook his head as though ridding it of confusion. "Strange to hear your voice coming out of your mouth." Long bony fingers were outstretched to the king and after a little more prompting, Arthur settled his mangled hand into Merlin's calloused ones.
"Hwa sy daru ágíeman. Sé bargrún forþsetennes áwendennes. Hwa sy ofhende gelesniss. Hwa sy min geftian.(2)"
Arthur grunted quietly as his bones shifted and knit back together, gritting his teeth at the sensation that was not painful, but certainly unpleasant. Merlin's golden eyes shone with light for no longer than a moment, and Arthur could freely move his hand.
"The bones are healed, but the pain will be- Arthur!"
Before Merlin could finish his sentence, Arthur had scooped up Excalibur, nodded at his servant and knight, and vanished up the stairs after Morgana and Percival. Merlin gave an exasperated sigh and waved at the king.
"Are you alright, Emrys?" asked a small voice. Dayla appeared at his side and placed her tiny hands on his arm.
"I am now," said Merlin with a smile. He craned his neck to see Bedivere's still form laying against the wall some feet away from them, and not far from him lay Frio. His smile vanished and he looked to Gwaine. "I need your help, but first, you need to send someone down here to get Bedivere to Gaius." Gwaine nodded and dashed away and Merlin turned to Dayla. "Go with them and bring Frio."
It was as though the mention of the name sent a shock through the small girl and tears gathered in her large brown eyes. Like each of her limbs suddenly weighed one hundred pounds, she trudged over to the fallen animal and did her best to gather her into her arms. She folded her crooked wings to her body and with a little heave, straightened and walked back to Merlin, having to dodge Gwaine and two guards as they jogged past her and toward Bedivere. By the time she arrived and dropped to her knees at his side, tears were streaming down her face and collecting on Frio's feathers, her small body wracked with barely controlled sobs.
"It's... it's my fault," she hiccupped, leaning her head down until her forehead rested against Frio's neck. "I asked her to help," she managed before the sobs took hold of her voice.
Merlin felt tears sting his own eyes at the sight of the unmoving bird, but he fought them back and pulled Dayla's head against his shoulder, resting his cheek on her hair. "It's not your fault; Frio is a fighter. I've only known her a few days, but I could sense that she wanted to help us, Dayla." He pulled away as the guards rushed past with Bedivere slung limply between them. "Take her to Gaius and see if he can help her," he said, pressing his forehead to hers before gently ushering her after the jogging guards. She nodded and began trudging up the stairs.
And if I see you out and about again before this is all over, he thought into her head, causing her to slow down a little, I'll turn you into a pigeon.
A chuckle fought its way past her sobs and he could sense her nod before she vanished back into the citadel.
Merlin looked up at Gwaine who was standing expectantly over him. "Now what, mate?" he asked, stooping to sling one of Merlin's arms over his shoulders and pulling the warlock to his feet. "What's wrong with you?" he asked, feeling how little of his own weight Merlin seemed to be bearing.
"You try not eating or drinking anything for four days," said Merlin as his stomach chose this moment to protest.
"So what do we do? I doubt the cook has anything in," said Gwaine.
Merlin shook his head. "We've wasted too much time already. First I need you to take me to the courtyard."
Gwaine protested, but the two began making their slow way up the stairs anyway. "That place is swarming with Saxons and druids. You're sure that's where you want to go?"
Merlin nodded. "I'm willing to bet that is where Arthur is headed," he said, catching his breath. "And I need to contact Kilgharrah."
The warlock could feel Gwaine tense at the mention of the beast. "Did that horn not work?"
"Seems not," grumbled Merlin as they reached the top of the stairs and began to trudge through the empty hallways.
Panic warred with relief in both knight and sorcerer. There didn't seem to be any citizens left huddled in the corridors, but there were also no bodies. It wasn't until they had fought Merlin's shaking form through one of the servants' passes and out onto one of the few flat areas remaining in the courtyard that they saw any people.
The uprooted stone of the courtyard stood as a tall barrier to their right and it just now occurred to Merlin that Arthur might have to somehow explain away his use of a magical sword. Through the entryways to the market, they could see chaos as Saxons and mercenaries looted the shops and homes of the citizens. Flames from stolen torches were already licking at several roofs and Merlin could see the perpetrator dashing toward another building. With a flick of his hand, the flame extinguished and the man was sent flying.
At the scream of the Saxon, hungry eyes in the courtyard instantly turned to what appeared to be a Knight attempting to rescue a sickly young man. Gwaine released Merlin, drew his sword and dashed into a crowd of battle-ready mercenaries as they yelled at one another about who would receive his head as a trophy.
Gwaine locked swords with one man, and was about to attempt to fend off another when the Saxon was suddenly lifted off his feet and tossed like a rag across the courtyard. The jaw of Gwaine's opponent dropped open a little, and no small amount of terror leaked into his eyes as he stared over Gwaine's shoulder at the warlock behind him.
However wobbly, Merlin had bolstered his legs (with adrenaline or pure willpower, Gwaine wasn't sure) and was now taking shaky steps toward Gwaine's back. His eyes glowed like small flames and though Gwaine had spent days traveling within the cloud of Merlin's magic, it had never felt so dense and overwhelming. Dragon tongue tore from his mouth, an inhuman roar echoing off the stone walls.
"O drakon, e mala soi ftengometh tesd'hup anankes! Erkheo!"
Gwaine had heard the call of a Dragon Lord once before- in the woods where the cry had been muffled first by a sword and then by another's voice- but the pure power and command in the unbridled call could have rivaled the Great Dragon himself. A few brave mercenaries continued their attack on the knight, but every cloaked druid took several steps back at the sound of the Emrys' voice; terror overtook their faces and a few of them even turned away and fled. Though magic was not something that the non-magical part of the invading force immediately recognized it was clear that they felt it. There was hesitance in their swings; furtive glances over Gwaine's shoulder as though Merlin was a wild beast they feared would attack at any moment.
Merlin stared down the group of Saxons that had gathered around Gwaine as though the knight was a barrier between the oppressive power they all felt and them. His mind assaulted him with consistent dizzy spells, but he planted his feet and held himself upright. Merlin noticed a single man to Gwaine's far right separate from the crowd, rush past the knight and make a brave attempt to attack him, and with a single jut of the warlock's chin, the man was thrown back into the crowd of enemies like a sack of grain.
He eyed a few more that looked like they were about to attempt the same thing, but before he could give them another reason not to, he felt Kilgharrah's soul calling out to him as though arms from far away were reaching out and caressing his mind. Linking minds with a dragon was a little like being chained to a jousting horse. The magic that slammed into his head was fast and powerful and it was generally all Merlin could do to keep up (hence why he preferred to call the beast to him).
Images came first. Kilgharrah's great head rose at the sound of the Héafodwóð echoing magically across the land. He took flight, the ground and cities below him blurring into nothing but flashes of color at his speed. However, he did not reach the towers of Camelot that loomed in the distance. A burst of white slammed into his side and the screech of a young dragon brought Kilgharrah to a halt. Circling around to his front, Aithusa cried at him and shook her great head back at forth. Attempts to pass her and make his way to Camelot were met with physical blocks and threats, as though the young one would rather harm herself than allow the great golden beast to help the besieged city. Without the voice of Merlin himself, Kilgharrah's instinct to obey even a second sounding of the horn could not outweigh his need to protect his own and so the two mighty dragons had settled into a stalemate, each staring the other down, and their minds filled with the one who held their utmost loyalty.
Mingled amidst the images and sounds, there were feelings and sights that Merlin could hardly interpret. If he looked too hard at one particular vision, it would explode into a plethora of new information, sights, smells, and feelings. He could feel and see Aithusa's bond with the witch; iron clad and filled with a warmth Merlin had long thought Morgana had lost. Ghosts of buildings not yet built and long since demolished flitted across the open expanse around where Kilgharrah could see the towers of Camelot. He could see pure power and magic radiating from the Isle of the Blessed and the Crystal Cave, weaving so completely into the fabric of the world around him that it seemed that nothing could exist without them there.
And then it felt as though he was standing on Kilgharrah's massive head, looking down at the much-smaller white creature. She was not intimidating... not to Kilgharrah anyway, but what she threatened frightened the golden beast to his core. For so long he had believed his species would die with him, but now there was another. And that other was now threatening harm upon herself if he took one step toward his master.
As Merlin cried out in the dragon tongue again, sadness gripped his heart and a few tears escaped his eyes. Dragons were not tame beasts to be bent to his will (though he recognized he was willing to defy this for the sake of his king and kingdom), and so when Aithusa's loyalty had shifted to Morgana, Merlin could do nothing but watch and wonder why. However wrong her loyalties seemed to him, the very act of ordering her to betray those loyalties and stand aside was enough to rend a hole in his heart: he hoped that one day she would forgive him.
"Oh drakon! Nun de ge dei s'eikein kai emois epe'essin hepesthai! Weas!(3)"
His magic boiled in the air like water in a pot and as it backed his voice with an inhuman roar, it begged for more. A few brave soldiers continued to try and overwhelm Gwaine, but the bar-fight seasoned knight had little trouble deflecting each one. As Merlin's cry went out, his magic burst like an over-filled water skin and men went flying with every syllable. Gwaine watched each one go with a sense of amusement, awe, and an expanding appreciation for the kind of power his friend possessed.
Adrenaline soared through his blood and magic swirled around him like a twister, but in between them Merlin could feel his body weakening. As his call ended, the magic seemed to tug at his last vestiges of strength and his legs finally buckled under his meager weight. He fell onto his hands and knees, each inhale seeming to pull darkness further around the edges of his vision.
The surrounding groups of enemies seemed bolstered by the warlock's collapse so Gwaine dug his heels in and held his sword up; preparing for a surge of steel and sinew. But after a few tense moments- while the group waited to ensure the warlock was truly incapacitated- he found he need not have worried.
Every upright man in the courtyard (possibly in the city) ducked like arrows were being fired over their heads as a deafening roar cut the air and reverberated off the stone walls. Fire licked the air above their heads and a gale tore between the men. Kilgharrah's massive talons slammed into the stone around Merlin with the sound of thunder, standing protectively over his lord and giving another discouraging roar directly into the faces of the Saxons. The remaining men immediately shed their bravery and fled back toward the large gates of the city.
Though their last meeting had been amicable, the sheer size and power of the beast was enough to make Gwaine desire to avoid him, but he couldn't quash his relief at Kilgharrah's appearance. He shot a rakish smile up at his massive head and gave a bow.
The dragon didn't seem to notice the knight and instead curled his head down toward the fallen Merlin, adjusting the placement of his talons (two of which had to be placed on the uprooted stones in front of the castle entrance). "Are you well, young warlock?" he asked.
Gwaine hustled under the dragon to help Merlin upright. "I'll be fine," he said with a wave. "Your head's a dangerous place for me," he chuckled.
"It is to be expected; you see things in such limited ways," remarked the dragon.
"Can you see Arthur?" called Gwaine, craning his neck to see Kilgharrah's golden eyes.
The beast raised his head and scanned the city, placing his front two talons on the battlements to get a better view. "The Bear has been stopped by a group of Saxons during his pursuit of the witch, allowing Arthur to continue his chase." He looked back to Gwaine, who had slung one of Merlin's arms across his shoulders. "Morgana is heading toward the Eastern Tower," he said, lowering himself back to the uneven ground. "I sense powerful magic there; so must she."
"The gem of Taliesin," growled Merlin. "We have to hurry." He looked up to Kilgharrah. "Stay here and just..." His clouded mind groped for words. "Just look menacing. The best story we have for your presence is a spell meant to incite panic."
Kilgharrah chuckled, nodded, turned his face skyward, and let out an ear-shattering roar and a jet of fire. Merlin nodded his approval and urged Gwaine toward the eastern exit to the market. With a simple wave of the warlock's hand, the stones blocking it off sunk back into their normal places and they hurried through.
The markets and houses were mildly upturned from looting, but all seemed abandoned. It was eerie, seeing the city so empty, but encouraging at the same time; it seemed that few had remained in the city after the appearance of Kilgharrah.
And now Merlin hunted for the witch.
1. Earth bind the limb.
2. Heal what is hurt. Change the fate's design. Save what is lost. Bring back what is mine. (Snrk snrk... Heeheeheeheeheeheehee!)
3. I use the Merlin wiki for the spells that I take from the show, but because the Dragonlord spells are in Homeric Greek, this particular spell has not been fully translated yet. My sister and I actually took Ancient Greek in high school (by pure coincidence lol) and we have been working on translating this, but the closest that wiki has is along the lines of "Now you yourself must obey and go... elsewhere?"
My sister drew me some fanfiction whilst proofreading this chapter! Check it out! Her deviantart name is omnisession, and the picture's name is 'Carry the Fallen'. Couldn't get the link to work. x.x