by GR Griffin
There was an unbearable, tense silence that hung between the pair of them. Their eyes remained locked on each other, neither daring to break it. A malicious smirk slipped over Uther’s lips.
“Emrys.” The virulence in his voice was overwhelming, almost threatening to induce a shudder through Merlin’s body. His magic fought it off intrepidly. He lifted his head challengingly, staring at Uther Pendragon with an expression that was almost identical.
“Uther.” He replied in a curt voice, afraid if he took his time over this name he would lose control of himself and unleash a tonne of powerful, and exhausting, magic that may possibly kill himself along with Uther Pendragon. He barely managed to suppress the burning sensation beneath his skin. The man in front of him seemed unfazed by the Druid’s reaction. In fact, he seemed almost satisfied to have evoked such a potent response with merely one word and a smirk. He stalked forwards. Merlin held his ground, the ground trembling slightly beneath his feet – or was it the way around- he wasn’t sure anymore. Everything had merged into one mesh of senses, he could feel everything all at once, and it was anarchy.
“How long I have waited to see you again.” Uther’s expression suddenly darkened, amusement fading. “After all that you’ve done-”
Merlin returned the bitter sentiment boldly without thought.
“You dare stand here and insult me!” a chaotic spluttered laugh escaped his lips at the very notion. It wasn’t a nice, pleasant laugh; it was a horrific one. The sound took Uther by surprise. Lowering his voice, Merlin leant forwards intently. “With your lies and hatred for magic, you pushed away everyone who ever cared about you.” Pause. “Gaius, Arthur, Igraine-”
Uther adjusted the gun on his shoulder abruptly. He grabbed Merlin by the tattered brown jacket, hauling him alarmingly close. Their eyes met malevolently, and Merlin inhaled a ragged breath to try and restrain himself from lashing out and ending everything right now. The air coiling around them was thick and volatile.
“-Don’t speak her name, Druid.” Violently he shoved the Druid away. Merlin stumbled a little as he was propelled backwards. For a moment he allowed himself to play the weaker man, feigning lack of balance. He regained his footing confidently, a broad and sadistic smile on his face. He’d hit a nerve with Igraine that was evident. He’d seen the flash of pain in Uther’s eyes and by god for all he’d done, he wanted to see it again.
“But that’s not where your crimes end.” Merlin stated, his smile morphing into something more sinister. “It is just the beginning. For you have caused so much suffering among my people.” It took all his strength to withhold the choked sob at the back of his throat, the excruciating tug of his magic begging him not to bring those unhealed wounds to the surface again. He ignored it all, burying it deeper within him.
“You killed my father, destroyed the Crystal Cave. You send your oldest friend to the lab. Thousands of Druids have died by your hand and-”
“-many more will today.” Uther replied, gesturing down to the battlefield below. Sparing a glance down to the destruction, then up to the cataclysmic sight of the sky, Merlin grimaced. The few seconds he had done these two things had given Uther another chance to stalk forwards ravenously. “For I will not rest until I have purged the whole of Albion of your wicked kind.” His eyes narrowed, an intense glare on his face. “You took my son from me! With magic.”
The accusation would have amused Merlin, if he were not standing face to face with the murderous tyrant. He glowered back with a similar ferocity.
“I was not the one to turn Arthur against you; it was your doing alone.” He studied the manner in which Uther’s eyes failed to conceal their emotions. The one he’d been searching for finally appeared, and Merlin didn’t hesitate to speak the honest words in his racing heart. “He is a much better man than you could ever hope to be.”
“He has betrayed Camelot, destroyed the empire he was to inherit-”
“-Arthur,” Merlin was amazed at how much power the name held over Uther Pendragon, despite everything. The man instantly became silenced, gazing over at Merlin cautiously as if he wielded a precarious weapon. “Has destroyed the evil that was at the heart of Camelot. He has freed my people from you. He will lead Albion into a new age, because it is his destiny to do so.”
At these words, Uther laughed, the sound cold and harsh to Merlin’s ears. It made him wince slightly, determination grinding to a halt. The laughter grew into something ominous. Uther shook his head, as if to condone Merlin’s words as foolish and naïve. He took a step forwards; almost in the manner a normal father would to console their confused child. Merlin disliked it very much, and took a step backwards to keep the distance. He discovered he was definitely right to do so, for seconds later the normalcy and kindness evapourated, leaving only bitterness and a brutal stare.
“Don’t speak of destiny to me. It was his duty to follow in my footsteps-”
“-You’re wrong.” Merlin breathed more to himself than to the man, a small smile tugging at his lips. Uther continued to talk over him.
“-and cleanse the world from magic, to allow the world economy to continue-”
Merlin’s admission became a loud announcement, his eyes burnishing with fortitude.
“You’re wrong! So wrong,” he narrowed his eyes almost mockingly, tilting his head coyly. He didn’t flinch as Uther jolted forwards. “About so much. Arthur’s destiny was never to follow in your footsteps. He has made his own path.” Uther scoffed at the words, removing himself from the Druid’s personal space as if disgusted by being so close to such a being. He turned his back to Merlin, walking further away. Merlin raised his voice, allowing it to carry across to the man. “I believe in him and the world that we will build together. He is far more than the son of Uther Pendragon,” a proud smile lit up his face. “He is the Once and Future.”
At these words, Uther spun around. His eyes wide, panicked.
“You’re lying!” he roared, almost fearfully.
Drawing his eyebrows together in confusion, Merlin watched as Uther became motionless. The man was startled and worried by the term. His actions were less and less stable, his expression less guarded. He didn’t even realise he was pacing until he heard the grunt of comprehension from the Druid. Raising his eyebrows in realisation, Merlin grinned. Oh. This was interesting, very interesting indeed. Drinking in Uther’s dismal frown, Merlin’s rather sinister grin widened.
“You’ve heard those words before-”
“-If you care for your life,” Uther backfired viciously, reaching for the gun hoisted over his shoulder. “I suggest you stop talking boy-”
But Merlin couldn’t stop, a stream of words streaming from his mouth, drenched in truth, soaked in his own disbelief and dark humour. He knew he was playing a dangerous game when a burst of laughter fell out his mouth. But really, he couldn’t help it because this really had turned everything on its head spectacularly.
“-You’ve known about this for years haven’t you? And yet, you still tried to defy the greatest forces of this earth. You tried to dissolve the golden prophecy.”
Lunging forwards menacingly, Uther poised the gun towards Merlin who remained still and steady.
“Don’t test me! I will shoot you.”
Now, Merlin was never the kind to show off or exploit his status as Emrys. In fact, he usually shied away from it, embarrassed by the praise and recognition. Now however, was a totally different circumstance. Standing before him was Uther Pendragon, the man who had condemned his people and threatened the future of this land. Sneering, Merlin outstretched his palm in front of him warningly.
“Your weapons don’t scare me.” He spat, voice deep and foreboding. “I am Emrys, it would take me less than a few seconds to kill you with a flick of my hand.”
Uther’s next words intimidated him more than he would have ever liked to admit.
“And yet, you haven’t.” There it was, the silent challenge. Kill me then. Come on, mighty Emrys, fucking kill me!
> His magic was more than willing to comply, it took a great deal of restraint to control it and push it to the back of his mind. It hissed furiously as he clamped his eyes shut, groaning a little. No. He screamed to himself. This wasn’t the way he did things. This wasn’t the Druid way, killing out of cold blood. His father certainly would have never rose to the bait. He opened his eyes suddenly. The gold trickled out of his irises in submission. Averting his gaze from Uther, he swallowed-hard. The implications of what he’d just done – or rather not done – were heavy. A brutal, delighted laughed echoed through Mount Breguoin.
“Oh.” Bowing his head at the scorn, Merlin sighed drearily. “Oh! After everything I’ve done to you and your people, you don’t have the guts to kill me!” another laugh, Merlin ground his teeth together, his palms clenched tightly at the words. Uther’s tone became disdainful and derisive, not failing to do injury. “The mighty Emrys…” Merlin’s whole body was shaking, his clenched hands sharply opened. “…Unable to take a life-”
“-You’d be surprised.”
Suddenly his eyes flashed gold, directing a beam of light towards Uther Pendragon. The man dived out the way. Merlin was relentless. He cast again before the man even had time to respond. Uther was sent sprawling back at the collision. Then a gunshot fired through the mountain. Merlin deflected it with ease. He shot another spell at the man. His trembling hands missed feebly. He inhaled a deep breath. Breathe Merlin, breathe. Uther got back onto his feet. He fired another shot. Merlin’s golden eyes protected him once more.
“Impressive, you know I often wondered how magic of your calibre would benefit Camelot.”
“Wondering is as far as you’ll ever get!” Merlin hissed vehemently, narrowing his eyes.
“Perhaps.”
Then there was silence between them. The pair began to circle each other. Neither made a move to attack or defend. They were spiralling recklessly into a deadly stalemate with no indication of how long it would last or who would make the first shot. Uther then did something unexpected. He tossed the gun in his hands to the ground, out of range. Merlin gazed over to the weapon in shock, attempting not to allow his stern composure to falter by the strange action. He failed, and Uther laughed. A little dumbfounded, Merlin held both palms in front of him.
“Come on then Emrys,” Uther whispered. “I’m waiting.”
♦☼♦
“Sister, I fear much has been kept from you, far much more than you think.”
Attempting to ignore the word ‘sister’ Morgana barred her teeth at the woman viciously. She lunged forwards, dagger plunging into thin air. Morgause swiftly moved out of range. Her eyes turned gold and instantly the dagger fell to the ground, out of reach. Eyes wide, Morgana tried to dive for the dagger. Shaking her head, Morgause sighed.
“Don’t give me more reason to blow Iaonam to hell, Sister.” Her tone was almost sad, her finger gracefully dancing around the detonator in her hands. “It is not your destiny to die here. This is not how I’d want things to end between us.” Drawing her eyebrows together in confusion at the woman’s sincerity, Morgana moved away from the dagger.
“Sister-“
Unable to tolerate that word, the raven-haired woman glowered at the blonde.
“-Stop calling me that, I am no sister or friend of yours.” Her eyes lingered on the detonator; she failed to see the flash of hurt in Morgause’s eyes. She thought of Gwen, of the volunteers, of the Elderly and the children. God. They would die. They would all die. No longer thinking of her own life, she met Morgause in a pleading gaze, knowing it was foolish. It was all she had left.
“I beg of you, spare these people. They’ve done nothing to you.”
Raising her eyebrows, Morgause took another step backwards, finger still alarmingly close to the detonator. She was going to press it. It was the end.
“STOP!” Morgana cried, rushing forwards vulnerable and unarmed. Her eyes wide, her fists clenched, her body trembling with fear. Not for herself, for the thousands of people that would die here today if she didn’t stop Morgause. For a moment the world became frozen in motion, fixated on Morgause and the detonator. A wretched moan of distress ripped through Morgana as she watched the finger move closer to the detonator. Then she spoke dangerous words.
“Please,” she whispered, not ashamed to show her trauma. “I’ll do anything! I…I swear.”
Glaring menacingly over at the woman, Morgause replied in her harsh yet manipulative voice.
“What makes you think I want anything from you?”
Morgana could tell Morgause was astounded when she didn’t flinch as expected but simply held her ground, eyes burnishing in the flames.
“Because,” she replied sardonically, a sensation swooped over her. She was in control now; she could feel it. Taking a step forwards derisively, she continued. “You haven’t tried to kill me – your first mistake. No doubt you killed Leahme in the first few seconds that he crossed your path.”
Silence. Morgause’s finger drifted away from the detonator for a moment, bringing the tension down a level. Averting her eyes to the ground, she thought pensively over Morgana’s words. She was partly right, of course. When she lifted her head, seemingly unfazed by the deduction, Morgana felt her conviction waver once more.
“I suppose you’re right, and my second mistake?”
Glaring across the distance between them, Morgana barked back through clenched teeth, rage simmering in every word.
“You, called me sister.”
“Oh,” was the rather disconsolate response from the blonde woman, yet again turning the table, changing the scene. “That was never a mistake Morgana, it was a regret.” smiling, for the first time seeming genuine, she explained. “You are not ready to know the truth, not ready to accept how many people have wronged you all your life. Perhaps all you need to know now is that your destiny is far greater than you believe it so.”
Shaking her head, Morgana fought back sharply. She only had to think of Arthur and Gaius to convince herself these words were lies. Then she only had to look down at the detonator for her whole argument to break down and shatter into pieces at her feet. Morgause could blow the whole of Iaonam up any second. No matter what she said, Morgana had to be careful with her retaliation. This stalemate between them may be a huge bluff.
“This isn’t about me. This is about them, please let them live.”
♦☼♦
The infirmary was overflowing, reaching the low hundreds with barely enough of them to treat a mere handful of people. The chances of survival were minimally low, but it was worth trying. For some cases, Alys and Gaius’ magic combined with healing practices had done the trick. For other cases, the bodies were brutally injured and required serious attention. This secluded part of the forest, not far from the Breguoin battle, was littered with the sobs of dying men. People were crying out for attention; help. Gaius leant down to press a cold cloth against a patient that had become feverish. He held it there for a few moments before he was once again summoned.
“Gaius!!” Leon called, rushing through the makeshift infirmary breathlessly. “We’ve got another one.”
Meeting Leon’s eye, Gaius frowned.
“Bring them in, Leon. I need you to keep an eye on the patient to my right, he’s losing too much blood.” With a brisk nod, Leon beckoned for the people following him to bring her in.
The wounded woman was gently cradled onto the bed of leaves. Alys quickly made her way over, glancing down at the bleeding leg. Clasping Gaius’ shoulder she ushered him away. He stared down at the woman barely half his age. She was still young, still had a life to live. It was possible she had children, a family. The thought was sad.
“I can deal with this one. There are more coming.” She noticed the sorrow in his eyes.
“I fear we can’t save them all.” He replied, averting his eyes away drearily.
With a grave nod, Alys squeezed his hand.
“No we can’t.” she agreed. “But we’re trying.”<
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♦☼♦
A deafening explosion sounded throughout Breguoin. At the sound of the explosion, the plain came to an immediate standstill. Both sides lowered their weapons, searching for the source of the noise. The rumbling was deep and clearly powerful.
“What the hell was that?!” Gwaine called over to Lancelot who slowly walked towards him.
In the sky, Arthur and Aithusa paused. Inquisitively, Arthur probed her mind. An explosion that big would have been visible if on the plain. There were no signs here. His eyes scanned the horizon. Then he saw it. A few miles West of Breguoin, smoke and fire were rising. Holding a hand to his mouth, he felt a wretched, raw sob wash over him. Lancelot and Gwaine spotted the pillars of dark smoke in the sky; Lance fell to his knees dejectedly. Will grit his teeth wrathfully at the sight, hot tears burning his cheeks. Slowly the distraught washed over the plain. The anguish of and gravity what had just happened. As it did so, it reanimated the people. The Druids became more frenzied and passionate, not holding back an inch of magic. Lancelot abruptly stood, and Gwaine pushed forwards taking down whoever came in their way. Arthur screamed savagely, he and Aithusa pitilessly ripping any aircraft in sight to shreds.
♦☼♦
Eyes wide, Merlin diverted his attention from Uther as a huge explosion burst through his ears. From here, it was clear exactly where that blast had come from. Iaonam. Merlin’s thoughts immediately became frantic. The children; the elderly; Morgana; Gwen. He spun round viciously to Uther, outstretching his hand without hesitation, blinded by anger.
“You monster!” he roared, shoving the man to the ground. He fiercely leapt on top before he could escape. “There were children in there.” tears streamed from his eyes as he pinned Uther down, more with his magic than physical strength. “They did nothing to you, and you killed them!” Uther seemed to have noticed Merlin’s lack of physical strength.
All of a sudden, Merlin found himself pushed down brutally. His head hit the rocky ground hard. The pain was enough to stall his magic, prevent him from acting quickly. Uther hoisted him up by his shirt, dropping him back down viciously. Merlin wheezed at the assault, attempting to roll groggily out of the way of Uther’s boots. Regaining a little strength, his eyes flashed gold. Uther dived out of the way of a bright jet of sapphire light. Swiftly he pulled out a new gun from his belt, pointing it at Merlin.