Merlin Fic: And the World You Promised: Chapter Twelve: You Can Reclaim Your Crown

[jesterladyfic]

Chapter Twelve: You Can Reclaim Your Crown

When Arthur had left Merlin and Guinevere after hearing all of Merlin’s secrets, he’d been sick to his stomach. He’d barely made it back to his room before dry heaving into the chamber pot and wondering just exactly how he’d made it through that conversation without either trying to kill Merlin or breaking down entirely.

So many secrets, so much happening right under his nose, so many things Merlin had been forced to do for Arthur. Arthur didn’t want the weight of that responsibility, to know that those things had happened in his name, for his kingdom, under his friendship. It was too much to bear after everything else. Arthur spent a few moments shaking uncontrollably and trying to get command of himself.

It was true, what he’d told Merlin, Arthur understood why, he also knew how much good Merlin had done, Arthur knew that his decision to forgive Merlin still stood, that eventually they’d be okay. But that day was not today and today was the day where Arthur wanted to rip back the past and change it if he only could, to somehow use hindsight to change people’s decisions and get back the people he loved.

He mourned for Morgana now more than when he’d first found out her betrayal. He could only imagine the pain and loneliness and uncertainty of waking up to a world where you had magic when it was condemned, to not know if you were good or evil, to feel like you couldn’t talk to anyone about it, to fear for your life. But he just…he couldn’t do anything about it. He couldn’t change it. Yet, he would have helped her, if she’d come to him. He would have.

But she had not. Which was the difference between her and Merlin, he gathered. Merlin may have lied to him, but he never abandoned him, never ceased to fight for the same things Arthur himself did, whether he used the same methods or not. Merlin had done terrible things but only when provoked, when forced to it, when faced with a worse consequence. The same could not be said for Morgana and it tore Arthur apart inside. His sister, his beautiful, mischievous, compassionate, strong sister.

His no more.

Slowly he come back to himself from his miserable thoughts and realized he couldn’t cower there any longer. He had to face the facts, face the battle, and be a King. Sometimes he thought of those long ago, far off musings of once becoming a farmer and they made him smile, but they were not to be. Arthur could not deny his birthright anymore than Merlin could. So there was that.

He’d only just gotten himself under control when a knock came to the door. Leon came in with the latest reports and Arthur thanked him before dismissing him to go over everything. The scouts were not back yet, but should be by the evening. They would start making plans at once.

Arthur set them aside and spotted the remains of Guinevere’s breakfast, not yet cleared away. He realized he was hungry, incredibly hungry, and started to eat.

Guinevere came in and he started to tell her of all that happened when his brain caught the look on her face and her body language.

“What’s wrong?”

“Merlin told me.”

He gathered her in his arms immediately, shushing her protests.

“I’m sorry, Guinevere.”

“It is not me he’s hurt,” Guinevere said half-heartedly.

“He has hurt everyone who put their trust in him,” Arthur said firmly. He pulled back to look in her face. “I can understand your feelings. Of course I can. Who else better? But…I can’t live like that. You taught me that just last night. I have to make decisions based on what I feel is right and I know Merlin means well.”

“As do I,” Guinevere said, “but that does not wipe out the past.”

Arthur found it incredibly ironic to be the one who was fighting for forgiving Merlin. It wasn’t fair, but then life hadn’t exactly been fair as of late.

“Why do we keep switching positions like this?” he asked. “I find it absolutely intolerable that I’m forced to be the one defending Merlin, just so you know.”

“I am as surprised as you,” she said. “I guess it just took longer to catch up to me.”

“And it will pass, I think,” Arthur said. If anyone was able to forgive, it was his Guinevere. “But I can easily reassign him if he will make you feel uncomfortable.”

“I think Merlin would actually fit in better elsewhere,” she said. “Hasn’t he proved he is more than your servant? That the job was only a convenience to keep him close to you?”

Which made Arthur think. That was true, very true. He didn’t think they could ever be just master and servant again, too much had happened. Arthur had to keep shifting his opinion of Merlin and he’d probably have to do so again, but he couldn’t worry about Merlin's job title at the moment.

“You may have a point,” he said. “But until then, I need him to help me take down Morgana. Will you be all right?”

“Will you?”

He smiled down at her.

“With you by my side, I can do anything. I haven’t forgiven him yet either, you know, I am still processing through his secrets. But I made the choice to trust him anyway. It will happen for you when you need it to.”

“The King is so wise,” Guinevere said, dropping a slight curtsey.

While he thought she was avoiding her hurt now, he let her, he hadn’t exactly been honest about the incredible pain still flooding through him, and, anyway, he liked her playful side.

“None of that,” he said, grabbing for her, but she ducked away.

“Yes, Sire,” she said, grinning, and he lunged at her, laughing.

“Your hand,” she said, grabbing it. “You’re going to get blood everywhere. Sit down and let me mend it for you. Or go to Gaius.”

“It’s nothing,” Arthur said. “I’ve had worse.”

“What did you do?” she asked quietly, winding a bandage around his hand.

“I punched the table when he told me about Morgana,” he said tightly.

“D-do you think that’s why she turned?” Guinevere asked hesitantly.

“I’m sure that was a big part of why she decided she could no longer trust those she had called her friends. But I do believe Merlin when he says she had made her choice before that. And that…my father was the one who drove her away, without even realizing it.”

“Poor Morgana.”

“She has no more of my pity after what she did to you,” Arthur said, flexing his hand, feeling sad that his Queen was so good at this.

He could not forgive such an act, not to Guinevere. Still…

“That is not true and you know it,” Guinevere said, wrapping her arms around him.

“I guess not,” Arthur said wearily, but that did not change anything and both of them knew it.

***

Arthur spent a great deal of time the next few days going over their battle strategy and fighting with Merlin.

The scouts came back and pinpointed Morgana’s location to the Forest of Essetir. It was not far, which was both good and bad. Merlin had asked for permission to prove the scouts' diagnosis and Arthur had granted it, but when Merlin told him it meant he would leave Camelot, Arthur nearly blew up at him.

"Don't you think you should stay here?" he asked tightly, mindful that Guinevere, Gaius, and Leon were listening.

"It's the only way for me to be sure," said Merlin. "Don't you trust me?"

"That is a separate subject," said Arthur. "Well, fine, if you're going, so am I. Just like old times."

"Perfect," said Merlin in that tight voice that meant he thought it was anything but perfect.

Guinevere's face fell and Arthur turned to her.

"I promise, we'll be back soon. We're not looking for trouble, right, Merlin?"

"Right," said Merlin, smiling genuinely at Guinevere.

Arthur knew things were still very tense between the two of them and so he'd tried to put as much of his own anger and fear of Merlin aside for her. But it hadn't been easy. Still, a world where Guinevere and Merlin were at odds was an odd one.

Arthur and Merlin left at daybreak and it was so familiar it made Arthur's heart hurt. But he clenched his jaw and rode on without speaking.

It was the quietest Merlin had ever been, that was for certain.

"So," Arthur finally said, when they'd been riding for hours, "what are we looking for?"

"Morgana's magic," said Merlin. "She's subtle, but it seems like she's losing control of her ability to hide. I think she's- well, from what the people have been saying, she's not as well as she used to be."

"Tell me," Arthur said quietly, not able to stop himself from asking, even if he already knew the answer, "did magic do this to her? Is she so corrupted because of it? Or did you do this to her?"

Merlin was quiet for awhile and then he finally looked at Arthur and the pain on his face was very real.

"I don't know. I don't know if it was Uther or me or just her destiny. But it was not magic. Arthur, magic is only a tool."

"That's what I'm trying to accept," said Arthur. "Yet, you say you were born with it."

"I'm a bit of a special case," Merlin said somewhat bitterly. "But as you know I've made very poor choices on occasion. And brilliant ones on others."

Arthur nodded and didn't say anything. They were very close to their destination.

"I expected to see you, Emrys," said a voice from behind them. Merlin didn't jump like Arthur did. He must have known she was there. "I didn't expect to see you two together. Or to have you gossip about me."

Arthur turned and saw Morgana, her face ashen and pale, still wearing that black dress that made her look so much older than he remembered.

"Morgana, can't we talk?" he asked, keeping his voice even.

Morgana moved forward and smiled.

"I would have loved to talk, brother, but I fear it would have gotten me killed. Still, I would like to know one thing…why isn't Merlin's head decorating Camelot's walls?"

"I don't kill my friends without reason," said Arthur. "Let my treatment of him be proof to you that you can trust me."

Her eyebrows rose.

"Really? So, you're an embracer of magic now? You want to make a united land full of magic and sorcery?"

"I did not say that," said Arthur. "I do not know my own views. But I do know I need to think and reevaluate."

"This world can change, Morgana," said Merlin softly. "I believe that our destinies can change."

Her mouth twisted and she seemed to struggle with her words. It was a curious sight. To Arthur it was like watching her change into a different person. At first she had seemed like the Morgana of his childhood, his friend and sister, but whenever she looked at Merlin her body language changed and her face became wild.

"I would not breathe the same air as you," she finally spat out. Her voice, her words, everything about her now seemed utterly changed. She was not the same person Arthur had seen only a moment before. "You who have usurped my land, my people, my family, my destiny. You should have been crow's meat, but instead you are as you ever were."

"Morgana," Arthur said placatingly, riding forward. He hardly knew what he was doing. He'd felt such anger toward her and he knew he could never be with her as he once was, but Merlin's stories had kindled compassion in him toward her and regardless of what she had done to Gwen, Morgana was his sister. "Please."

"Stay back," she hissed and raised a hand against him. "You are no blood to me, what we were is lost. There is no reclaiming it. Not while you waste your time as King licking the boots of Emrys and flaunting your hypocrisy for the entire world to see. Camelot is mine and I will claim it."

Flames began to rise from her hand and Arthur felt fear, but Merlin raised his hand, whispering words Arthur couldn't understand, and suddenly there was a loud bang and Arthur's head hurt, a tightness closing in on him. He closed his eyes and when he opened them again, they were in the fields outside of the Lower Town.

"What?" he gasped, looking around, feeling fear again as he looked at Merlin. "What did you do?"

"Teleportation spell," said Merlin, looking a little drained. "Never tried it like that before."

"A little warning might be nice," said Arthur, getting down from his horse and putting his head between his legs.

"She was going to attack us," said Merlin, swinging down as well.

"I know," said Arthur. "She-she just changed."

"I think seeing us together triggered something in her," said Merlin sadly. "She's no longer Morgana."

"Congratulations," said Arthur tightly and didn't explain his remark before getting on his horse and riding back to Camelot.

After that, Arthur didn't mention their outing, not even to Guinevere. Seeing Morgana like that had reawakened all his fears about magic but he knew he didn't have the luxury or the time to have a breakdown about it. He was the King and his people were counting on him. He would deal with it later. In the meantime, he carried on, treating Merlin as he ever had outwardly.

It was amazing how easy it was to fight with Merlin, always had been. But there was a layer of unease to it now. It felt comfortable and right and Arthur actually thought it might be making Merlin feel better, but it didn’t feel the same to Arthur, it was like a false layer coating over their real relationship, all the problems and mistrust. But Arthur didn’t know what else to do. His friendship with his manservant was hardly more important than the safety of his kingdom, even when said safety appeared to rest on the capabilities of said manservant.

So Arthur kept on, planning, fighting, scheming, telling Gwaine he couldn’t come, and wishing he had more time alone with Guinevere as Arthur got the feeling there was something she wasn’t telling him. It was with a nervous feeling that Arthur gathered all the knights who would be going on the mission, plus Gwaine, Gaius, and Guinevere and formally introduced Merlin’s secret to them.

The mood in the room cooled considerably as all the knights, except Percival, looked taken aback. Arthur had to put it to the man, nothing seemed to shake him, and Arthur very much appreciated his discretion over the past few days. It made him feel that much more secure in the men he trusted.

“Sire, always?” Leon asked, looking utterly shaken.

Arthur supposed for a man used to serving under Uther this would be like proclaiming Merlin was a murdering rapist, but it was not so. Merlin was Leon’s friend and had been for years.

“Merlin could not tell his secret safely while the kingdom was ruled by my father and while magic is still technically banned in Camelot, I am allowing it in Merlin’s case as we need his magic to defeat Morgana.”

Arthur slid right by the years where Uther hadn’t been ruling in Camelot, he knew, but those reasons were between Arthur and Merlin.

Leon swallowed and looked at his fellow knights, perhaps feeling reassurance in the easy stances of Gwaine and Percival, and nodded.

“As you wish, Sire.”

Arthur noted that Gwaine took his hand off his sword pommel, also, that all the rest of the knights looked sure now that Leon had proclaimed it so. A testament to how well Leon was trusted by the knights under his command. Arthur felt reassured as to his choice of commander.

It was not as simple and smooth as Arthur hoped it would be, but a plan using Merlin’s magic gradually developed and soon they were ready to march out. Arthur took his leave of Guinevere, trying to give her his reassurance as well as taking hers, but it was hard, harder than leaving her to the healing tent last time, because he knew so much more about what he was facing and she would not be close by.

He’d almost died the last time he said goodbye to her, would he actually die this time? They had barely had any time together, barely been able to soothe the wounds of their last parting. It was bitterly unfair, but Arthur could not shake his duty and knew she would not wish him to. So he kissed her goodbye and rode off to the front of the column, holding the image of her smile in his mind, longing to see her again already.

It was not that long of a ride but Arthur spent it searching his heart and mind for answers that they didn’t have. All he could do was reflect on Merlin’s confessions over and over again, recalling the last ten years of his life, wondering exactly what had happened. What he kept coming back to was how many times Merlin had saved his life and had gone into battle with him.

Yes, Merlin had betrayed him by his lies as had Morgana, as had Agravaine, but those lies had had incredibly different consequences. Merlin’s lies had saved a kingdom and lives, whereas the other lies had only been meant to destroy. Could such deception ever truly be good? Arthur didn’t think so. He did not believe in lies, he believed in being upright and damning the consequences, but that was partly because he had to lead the way, had to be the example as prince and now King. Merlin did not have those constraints.

But was he just making excuses because he wanted Merlin to be okay, to be his friend, to not have to lose anyone else? Arthur needed to be sure, needed to have no more doubts. Both Merlin’s assurance of their destiny and Guinevere’s belief in Arthur's right to rule had helped him feel better about who he was, but he needed to make that decision within himself now that he knew all the facts. But as they rode closer he also knew he had to put that aside for now, had to take care of Morgana and make his kingdom secure before he could do any of that.

“Everyone be on high alert,” he said as they reached their location, making sure his voice carried. Arthur turned to Merlin to see what the other man thought only to find his eyes closed and Arthur being ignored. “Merlin, you may have some sort of inner connection to know what the hell’s going on, but the rest of us don’t. What’s happening?”

Merlin finally opened his eyes.

“The dragon is here,” he said. “Morgana cannot be far away.”

“And you know you can control the dragon?” Arthur asked, still worried despite Merlin’s assurances back at Camelot.

“Aithusa obeyed me at Camlann,” Merlin reminded him.

“I know,” Arthur said curtly.

Leon rode up, glancing uneasily at Merlin before speaking.

“Our scouts show a bonfire in the field before the forest. I think she is waiting for us, Sire.”

Arthur nodded.

“Then we will not disappoint her. Have everyone be on their guard, she is not to be trifled with and there is the dragon to contend with. Do you see any men?”

“A few guards, no more. The Saxons were too largely dispersed after the battle.”

“Then let us use our numbers to our advantage. Are you ready, Merlin?” Arthur asked.

Merlin smiled.

“I think I’d like to go cower behind a table or something actually, Sire.”

“Tough, your cowering days are behind you,” Arthur said, feeling more natural with Merlin than he had in days. “Now do as your King commands.”

“Whatever you wish, King Dollophead,” Merlin muttered under his breath.

Arthur glared at him and couldn’t understand why Merlin suddenly grinned. Idiot.

Arthur wheeled his horse away and didn't pay attention to the exchange of words between Leon and Merlin.

They approached the field and a great wall of flame rose to meet them. The horses all reared and bolted, a few knights, including Arthur, kept theirs through sheer horsemanship and trust, though Arthur didn’t know why Merlin had kept his seat, but most of the knights were on the ground.

The dragon could be seen coming in from the southeast and now there was fire at their backs, ringing them in and keeping them from escape. The only way out was through battle.

A small black figure stood in front of the flames.

“Emrys!” called Morgana. “Emry, Emrys, show yourself!”

Merlin rode forward, Arthur followed beside him.

“Morgana,” Merlin acknowledged.

“Why do you hide behind Merlin?” she asked, circling to and fro, obviously restless. “You are no little servant, leeching power from behind the throne. You are Emrys! Emrys! Emrys!”

Arthur stared at her, the beginnings of fear blossoming through him. She was even worse than their encounter days earlier. This was not his sister. This was not even the sorceress he’d come to hate. This was a woman gone utterly mad.

“Why do you fear me so, Morgana?” Merlin asked quietly, sounding way more serious than Merlin was wont to sound.

Arthur didn’t like it.

“I do not fear you, I loathe you,” she screamed out and fire started to crackle around her. “You are the bane of my existence. If it weren’t for you none of this would have happened.”

“You had your part to play, Morgana, and you played it with relish,” Merlin said gently.

“Is that what you tell yourself to help you sleep at night, little Merlin?” she said, a twisting smile curving on her face. “Well, no longer, for tonight will see the end. I will be your doom and not the other way around, no matter how many old crones tell me different! I will bleed my dear brother dry and make you watch your own failure before I finally tear your heart out.”

Arthur swallowed hard and pulled out his sword. He did not know everything that was happening between them, nor did he want to, but it was obvious that he had a part to play and so he would.

“Not tonight, Morgana,” he said firmly. “No more war between us, no more hatred.”

“And you,” Morgana said, sending a fireball heading straight for Arthur. He tried to duck but there was nothing he could do so he closed his eyes, hoping for a magical save, but it was his horse who dumped him, allowing him to miss the flames. Morgana continued to scream as Arthur got to his feet. “You, how dare you come before me? And with him. You hunted me, you despised me, you betrayed me, but Merlin reveals himself and you practically make him next in line for the throne!”

Arthur shook his head, not able to believe it, not knowing how she could believe it. He guessed she couldn’t read his mind, because she could never know the torment he went through both at her betrayal and at Merlin’s revelations.

“It’s not so,” Arthur said. “You never bothered to come to me, Morgana. I would have helped you. But you betrayed me, tried to kill the woman I love, tried to take my kingdom. Merlin may have lied, but he never did that.”

“I guess he always did come first,” Morgana said, “or it would never have mattered. And it matters not now. You killed Mordred! You may not die at his hand as was destined to be because of Emrys. The two of you are not worthy to walk upon this earth. Aithusa!” she said, throwing back her head.

The dragon sent a swath of flames across the field, scattering Arthur’s knights. Morgana started to laugh in glee, while Merlin threw back his own head and roared in a strange, rough, deep voice that Arthur thought he’d heard somewhere before if only he could remember it.

Then the idiot jumped off his horse and ran straight at Morgana. So naturally Arthur ran with him.

“You should protect your men,” Merlin said.

“Who’s going to protect you?” Arthur asked.

“That’s my job,” Merlin said. “Now go save your men.”

Arthur glanced behind them and his eyes widened at the beginnings of the battle he saw. The dragon wasn’t able to aim directly at his men it seemed but the flames were searing hot and the smoke was blinding. The few Saxons there were appeared desperate to fight; swords rang and clanked against each other in a natural carnage Arthur knew so well yet never became accustomed to. He made a split decision.

“Call if you need me,” he yelled and then ran back to his knights.

He began to call out orders, bringing some semblance of order to the chaos of the battle. He sent those with spears to the dragon, ordering them to make every shot count. A few had bows and he had those aim at the dragon’s eyes.

He gathered his best swordsmen to himself and they faced off against the Saxons, though they were really the least of Arthur’s worries, considering the fire and the beast above their heads.

Arthur found himself back to back with Leon and the other man grinned at him, his normal quiet seemingly somewhat heightened by the bloodlust of war. Arthur grinned back, showing his teeth, for though it made him sick to take a life, fighting was his element. He’d been born and trained and made for these moments, wielding his blade; it was practically melded to his hand and seemed to know his every thought. He made a mental note to ask Merlin exactly what was the importance of this blade because it had always felt as if it were made for Arthur and now Arthur knew how good Merlin was lying.

The Saxons were no match for Arthur’s knights and they were quickly cut down allowing Arthur to focus his attention on the dragon, who was getting more and more dangerous as it appeared the magic keeping it from directly killing them was wearing off. Arthur glanced back to see how Merlin was faring, if he could do anything, but Arthur could barely see the man through the lights and dust of the magical duel that was keeping Merlin busy.

Their fate was their own it would seem and Arthur turned back to his men and then ducked as a huge chunk of rock, loosed by either Merlin or Morgana, thundered to the ground in front of him. He screamed a warning to his men, telling them to watch for the magical fallout.

The dragon flew above them and opened its mouth, flame rushing out, several of Arthur’s men were caught in the path and their mates beside them threw them down, trying to put out the fire. Arthur could barely see as he picked up a fallen spear, the flames were high, but the smoke was thick and it burned into his lungs and he coughed, trying to remain upright to throw, yet low enough to avoid the smoke.

Then there was a higher roar from behind them and Arthur whirled to see a vision out of a nightmare, another dragon, bigger and something Arthur could remember from such a terrible time long ago, swooping down on them. All hope of living through this event fled from Arthur’s heart and he silently prayed for Guinevere to forgive him. But he did not give up; he gathered Leon, Percival, and others to him.

“We will not stop now,” Arthur said as loudly as he could. “We are knights of Camelot and we fight to the end. For the love of Camelot,” he roared, shouting his defiance to the sky and running toward the new threat.

His men followed him, their cries joining with his and he felt pride and trust in them rise within him, but it was all for naught because the dragon flew over them, opening fire upon the white dragon.

Arthur’s mouth gaped open, not understanding what was happening. Then a dim memory opened in his mind, hadn’t he seen this dragon before? And not just when it attacked Camelot, but only a few days past. And it had a name, Merlin knew it, had befriended it. Kilg…harrah.

“Stand fast,” he yelled, pulling his men back from the dueling dragons.

They were awful to behold, one so much stronger and larger, but not being as aggressive. Flames shot through the night sky making it as bright as day and Arthur couldn’t take his eyes away from the spectacle. The white dragon glimmered in the light, his flame bright and strong, though its flight was not as graceful, something twisted about its body.

Arthur didn’t know what to think but Merlin shot into his mind and he turned back, looking to the other battle.

“I’m going back for Merlin,” he told Leon. “Keep the men together. Don’t break rank; try to put out the fire if possible.”

“Be careful, Sire,” Leon said.

When Arthur turned to go he found Percival running with him and he didn’t try to stop him. He might need backup and he would not deny any man the right to choose his own path if it meant saving a friend.

For Merlin was his best, his dearest friend, and Arthur could no longer deny that, not in the truth of war.

There were hills and valleys in the field where none had been before and it was difficult to see. Arthur rounded the top of one, Percival behind him, and stopped in astonishment. The fight was amazing in its complexity, the lights and very elements of the earth fighting with intensity and it was impossible to see who was fighting with what.

Gradually Arthur came to distinguish the old man version of Merlin, his long hair and beard white, a staff in his hand, though he still had that ridiculous neckerchief around his neck. Arthur’s mouth dropped open; Merlin was shining with power, deep words falling from his mouth, a golden shield all around him, and it seemed like there were mountains, waves, and forest fires at his disposal as he hurled them before him. And then he flew, flew through the air and it stopped, everything stopped.

Morgana was lying on the ground, a huddled black mass, and Arthur would feel sorry for her if he was not too busy being shocked at Merlin. Arthur would also be afraid if there wasn’t a quiet voice inside him insisting that there was nothing to be afraid of. Merlin was just Merlin, for all his power. There was nothing to forgive, nothing to worry about, Merlin was just Merlin.

Arthur pulled his sword, because Merlin being just Merlin meant that he needed Arthur to protect him whether the idiot knew it or not.

But then there was a shot of dark spinning out of the air and knocking him sideways and Arthur felt cold, too cold. Everything swam in the air above him, Percival’s arms somehow catching him, too dark, too cold, too tight. Arthur’s sword spun out of his hand and he lunged, trying to catch it. Everything was wrong and he just wanted it to go back to being right. There had been something he’d needed to say to someone, someone he’d needed to go back to. But it was all just…just-

“Arthur!” Merlin’s voice suddenly yelled in his ear and Arthur jerked upwards, everything swimming into focus. “Arthur, you complete ass, listen to me.”

"Merlin, whatever happens," Arthur said, glad he had a chance to say it.

"Sh, don't talk."

Merlin was holding him, looking like his younger self again. Percival was standing beside them, an anxious expression on his face.

"I'm the King, Merlin; don't tell me what to do."

"I always have, I'm not going to change now," Merlin said, grinning at him.

"I don't want you to change,” Arthur said, the effort tremendous, but Merlin had to know, had to know. “I want you to always…be you. I'm sorry about how I treated you."

"Does that mean you're going to give me a day off?"

"Two," Arthur rasped out.

"That's generous."

"There's something I want to say," Arthur said, struggling to raise his head.

"You're not going to say goodbye," Merlin said. “I’m going to save you.”

"No, no, everything you've done,” Arthur said, still struggling. “I know now. For me, for Camelot, for the kingdom you helped me build."

“Arthur, we don’t have time for this,” Merlin said. “Now shut up and let me heal you.”

Arthur felt quite indignant that here he was trying to have a poignant moment and Merlin wasn’t having it. Just like him, the ungrateful fool. Then there was a warm glowing in Arthur's chest, releasing the cold binds on his heart and Arthur gasped out a breath, suddenly feeling lighter than a man should with armor and chainmail weighing him down.

Merlin’s face appeared above him, dirty and grimy, and Arthur wanted to tell him to go take a bath, but then suddenly he remembered everything again and he blinked, steadying himself.

Percival’s arms were right there, steady as trees, and Arthur caught hold of them.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“Only pretty much a daily occurrence since I met you,” Merlin said.

“Automatic stocks words,” Arthur muttered, shaking his head. “My men,” he said. “The dragon?”

Merlin paled as though he’d forgotten and the idiot probably had.

“Come on,” he said and turned.

Percival supported Arthur as they ran and Arthur had never been more glad of the knight’s constancy. He had a thought he should probably promote Percival or something but to what Arthur didn’t know.

They reached the top of the last hill between them and the meadow and stopped short at the sight. The fires were still raging but the larger of the dragons was lying on the ground, form too still. The white dragon was wheeling around, mouth open for the incineration of Arthur’s men still grouped on the ground.

Merlin opened his mouth and that strange voice came out again, halting the dragon in its tracks. The dragon appeared to be fighting against the voice and then suddenly bowed its head, flying to the ground and waiting there.

Then Merlin spoke again, this time speaking other words and the fires roared up high and then went out.

“Kilgharrah,” roared Merlin and ran down the slope.

Arthur and Percival followed.