by GR Griffin
When it was over, and small streams of water trickled past his feet, the Basilisk before him was nothing more than silvery meshes of thawed skin and corroded scales. Arthur gaped at the sight, then back at his sword in astonishment. The gravity of what he had just done pummeled him in the face; only it didn’t leave him drenched like the spell had. He had just mastered weapon-magic binding, summoning the mighty Lake of Ealdor to his aid! How on earth he’d managed this, he was unsure. But god- it felt exhilarating. A brittle chuckle of disbelief escaped his lips. He’d never actually thought that water would work against a creature of such caliber. Knowing it loved fire however…well, using the opposing element against it seemed to make sense. A loud thud behind him brought him back to reality.
He spun around to see none other than Kilgarrah hovering beside Aithusa. Aithusa! Rushing forwards wildly, Arthur reached out towards the White Dragon, gently stroking her scales in concern. The White Dragon hummed vaguely under his caress, sapphire eyes locked on his. Her body was steady; yet the bite on her side had an ugly yellowish tint to it. Kilgarrah breathed cautiously on the wound, and Arthur watched in complete awe as the marks faded into mere scratches. He continued to stroke Aithusa’s white scales comfortingly. He feared she was in great pain from the bite.
“Dragons are far less susceptible to poison than men,” Kilgarrah said, perching beside Aithusa. “Whilst this venom would have killed you in minutes, it would have taken hours for it to reach Aithusa’s heart and still it totally.” Arthur allowed the breath he had been holding to spew from his mouth clumsily, causing him to inhale rapidly.
“She’ll be alright?” He asked as she closed her eyes dozily.
Kilgarrah met his eyes sincerely.
“She is still weak. It will take her a day or so to fully recover. I will watch over her, you must search for the flower. Merlin’s strength is fading, Gaius fears he has far fewer days than first thought.”
“How long?” he didn’t want to ask but knew it was something that couldn’t be omitted from the quest.
“Three days.”
At these words; Arthur swallowed-hard. Three days. If that had something to do with that floating blue orb Arthur would never forgive Merlin for his stupidity! Adrenaline was still pumping through him and encouraged him to continue. He pushed the sword back into his belt and made haste to get to his feet. Fatigue and overexertion of this eventful day dawned upon his body. He collapsed against Aithusa’s side. When he tried to stand, he found he could not. His body was throbbing excruciatingly, his head felt as if it were trapped in a vice.
His eyes were sore and his vision became blurry. A nauseating dizzy feeling swept over him, knocking his head against the Dragon’s body for he could no longer hold it up. A groan escaped his lips. His eyelids slowly closed over his heavy eyes. He didn’t realise just how tired he was, how much his body craved rest. He couldn’t rest. He couldn’t! Not with Merlin suffering. Another groan slipped past his lips as he reached blindly out in front of him. He managed to distantly mutter the Golden Dragon’s name pleadingly.
“You have endured much today, young Pendragon,” The voice of Kilgarrah swept through his ears hypnotically lulling his body into a state of numbness. “Much like Aithusa, your body is exhausted and needs rest.” Arthur moaned in protest, something resembling a choked sob echoing through the clearing. He was too weary to make that noise again, but his body squirmed against its own will. “You must rest, at least until dawn which is not too far from now. I will wake you the moment the sun rises, and you can begin your search among the remains of the cave-”
“-No.” Arthur stubbornly spat out, using his sword to prop himself onto his knees. It failed spectacularly, and he tumbled back against Aithusa once more.
“Don’t try and defy the wisdom of a Dragon.” Kilgarrah scoffed with a soft chuckle. “You must allow your body to heal itself. You will do neither Merlin nor yourself any good prancing around in bleak darkness searching blindly when the blessing of sunlight is merely a few hours away.”
Slumping against Aithusa’s side, Arthur sighed at the words. Kilgarrah had a point, of course, not that he’d admit it aloud. He could feel a deep ache inside his body; he needed these few hours of peace, of rest. There would be no point looking in the dark, as Kilgarrah had rightly pointed out, for the moonlight was not prevailing and there could be the horrifying possibility that he would actually miss what he sought. The Motrius flower was a small flower, and Arthur was not willing to take the rest of it being overlooked; that and the fact that his body physically demanded rest. Kilgarrah’s voice vibrated through his bones, buzzed into his mind as he shut his eyes and listened pensively.
“You have once again surpassed what has been foretold about you,” It was evident the Dragon had witnessed his face-off with Basilisk. “Few have ever defeated such dark creatures, and those who have were dark creatures themselves or magical beasts.” The statement stunned Arthur; he felt a small smile curve his lips upwards as darkness surrounded his vision.
“There is goodness in your heart and in your soul Arthur Pendragon. You possess something special.” Arthur blinked one eye upon curiously, gazing over at the Golden Dragon who was rousing a small fire beside them for warmth. There was silence. Arthur stared at the Dragon intently, stirring over the words that echoed in his mind. Kilgarrah turned his head and looked over to the blonde man brazenly. Arthur was sure any other man would have trembled at the prospect of sitting this close to two Dragons. He wasn’t a Dragonlord like Merlin; these creatures had no obligation to help him. Yet here they were, doing just that. To say that this touched Arthur was an understatement. His eyes twinkled with the tame flames of the fire. Then the Great Dragon lay beside Aithusa; Arthur rested against the White Dragon between the pair. Shutting his eyes as a wave of fatigue swept over him, Arthur sighed. A desperate sound resonated through his chest at the thought of Merlin.
“I have no doubt that Merlin will be fine,” The Dragon replied soothingly. “For he has you at his side…”
Arthur fell into dreams moments later, lulled by the sound of Kilgarrah’s voice, and Aithusa’s low rumbles in her sleep.
Notes:
TRANSLATIONS:
Arthur's first "big" spell:
Beorhtne! Brima æwielmas, beswylle beaduléoma
Beorhtne! Summon your water, drench this land and my sword
Chapter 57
“We need to buy Arthur time.” Gwaine muttered across to Gwen who was sat silently opposite Merlin. The small fire beside them was crackling with mild amber flames. It was far more modest than the fires that had graced Iaonem many hours ago. As opposed to producing grandiose spectacles of radiance, it was a soft glow faded into the background. It provided the necessary amount of warmth, nothing more. Lifting her head, Gwen met his eyes.
“If only that were possible.” she soothingly clasped Merlin’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. He’d been alarmingly still the past few hours; she hoped it bode well for Arthur.
“It is possible.” Surprised by the statement, Gwen narrowed her eyes. She beckoned Gwaine to continue, interested in his words. Averting his eyes for a moment to cautiously gaze around the clearing, he leant forwards over Merlin, closer to her. His voice was low. “Tomorrow, Topia and I are taking the weapon to Iaonam. We’re going to examine it and see what we find-”
“-Gwaine.” Her tone was scolding, eyes guarded. “This is dark magic, Gaius said so himself. Not even Kilgarrah would go near that gun! It’s not to be meddled lightly with.”
“Well from the short time I’ve spent with Dragons, I can say they can be rather peculiar-”
Rolling her eyes at his poor attempt to lighten the mood, she leant across Merlin imploringly.
“-Gwaine-”
“-Gaius himself said he needs the Mortius flower. He’s not going to be able to sustain Merlin for much longer.” Frowning at that, Gwen lowered her gaze to Merlin. He was sound now, completely engrossed in sleep. “If we understand more about what
hit Merlin, we could slow it down.”
As she met Gwaine’s eyes, she noticed the glimmer that was not induced by the firelight. Tilting her head, she pursed her lips coyly as a charming smile split open his face.
“What do you need me to do?”
“You’re going to hate this.” He admitted, grinning despite his words, elated she was co-operating. “I need you to lie.” He said the word as if it were a dreadful sin. Judging by Gwen’s reaction, it was. She laughed nervously, twiddling with her hands.
“I’m a terrible liar, why don’t you ask Morgana-”
“-Too obvious.” He supplied nonchalantly, folding his arms across his chest. “Besides no-one would suspect sweet little Gwen.” The woman’s eyes fluttered with amusement.
“Don’t patronize me Gwaine, I’m not entirely sweet.” Gwaine stifled a laugh at her words. They really didn’t match the beautiful, modest, kind woman sitting in front of him. Raising his eyebrows at her, he smirked.
“I’m complementing you. You just need to convince whoever asks that Topia and I aren’t up to anything. Say we’re going on a date or something, although don’t tell Zelina that, she’d probably come and hunt me down-”
“-A date!” Gwen exclaimed with a broad, triumphant smile. Cocking an eyebrow, Gwaine frowned.
“What?” he asked obliviously.
“Out of all things, you offered date?”
“Why are you surprised?” he retorted.
“I’m not!” she said with hilarity. “You’re the most flirtatious person I know. But Topia is a Clan Leader-”
“-What can I say? I like authoritative woman.” He shrugged brazenly with a grin; Gwen laughed at the words, relaxed for the first time today.
Pause.
“…Is it a date?” she pried curiously, eyes gleaming with delight. “Because Arthur once told me despite your charm, you do have a strange way of asking people out, like Daphne back at Ca-”
“-No!” Gwaine interjected quickly, his composure wavering slightly. He made note to get Arthur back for telling such an embarrassing story despite promising not to. “I’m sure inviting a woman to help you dismantle a deadly object that could kill us is far from a…” he gestured vaguely. “date.” Gwen hummed ambiguously.
“Each to their own.” She slyly replied, hand still tightened around Merlin’s. Relief washed over her as she felt his pulse had slowed to a relatively normal rate. His breathing was even; his body still. “It may sound silly,” she exhaled, caressing the skin beneath her hands. “But I think he can hear us. I think he’s listening to us right now.”
“I’m sure he’s enjoying our conversation very much, aren’t you Merlin?” Gwaine jibed, glancing down at Merlin as if he actually expected a response. There was none of course. Abruptly, Gwaine’s tone shifted to one of sincerity. “If you can hear us Merlin, we’re doing all we can for you.” At the words, Merlin’s body twitched slightly, a low muffled sound escaping his lips. “But it’s not enough. You have to do what you can too. Hold on, and try to control your magic as best you can because it’s weakening you.”
Merlin made another elusive sound, almost quiet enough to dismiss as a loud breath. However, both Gwen and Gwaine had heard it. They exchanged hopeful looks. Gwen smoothed her hand over his forehead, running her fingers through the dark hair on his head.
“We’ll look after you Merlin,” she cooed. “Just look after yourself, you can be selfless at times, incredibly so. But now is not the time for that, now you need to focus on yourself.” Smiling, she gently kissed his hand. “Do you remember the day you and…” pausing midsentence, she cleared the lump in her throat. “…Will took me to the waterfall of Retriax for my birthday? We spent the whole day by the waterfall, laughing and talking in the sunshine. We even spotted a few water pixies! It was beautiful. And the time you picked me flowers when I was upset, only I was allergic to them and spent the rest of the day sneezing!” smile widening, she affectionately gazed down at him. “From the day I met you all those years ago, I knew you were destined for greatness. And I know that you are going to live.” Her tone became stronger. “You are going to live Merlin. I know you are.”
It seemed she had momentarily forgotten Gwaine was sitting opposite her beside Merlin. Blushing awkwardly, she averted her eyes elsewhere. He studied her intently.
“You’ve known Merlin for a long time.” Gwaine deduced softly, flickering between the two friends.
“He is like a brother to me,” she laughed. “the younger brother of course. I always saw Will as the older one.” Sadness etched onto her face, the smile filtered away and left behind echoes of a grief that was all too raw to be voiced again. Reaching over Merlin to Gwen’s hand, Gwaine offered her a consoling smile.
“I’m sorry, truly I am.” He muttered.
Gwen offered him a small appreciative smile but said nothing in return. Nobody but Merlin – not even Arthur – would understand what losing Will really felt like. He had died protecting Arthur Pendragon, the man he’d sworn to hate all this time. Yet by doing so, he had proved just what kind of man he was. Will had always been reckless, brave, stupid, foolish and a whole range of other adjectives came to mind. Outside of Albion, when Gwen had saved him, he had behaved in his usual manner too. At first she found it slightly insulting, scolding him at every opportunity. Over the few weeks she nursed him back to health, she had grown deeply attached to his mannerisms – all of them. She loved him. Not the same kind of love she felt for Lancelot; it was a different love. It was just as deep and meaningful though- it hurt. Gwen was still wondering how on earth to breach the subject to Merlin when he eventually woke – when, because he was going wake. Arthur would succeed. She had no doubt of that. With an attempt to suppress her upset, she bit her lip.
Respectful of the fact Gwen clearly wanted to sit and think for a while, Gwaine said nothing either. The pair sat there together for the rest of the night in silence. Both watched over Merlin. A couple of times one of them found themselves battling aggressively with sleep, leaving just one of them to watch over the Druid. Once each of them had acquired an adequate amount of rest considering the circumstances – an hour at best between them – they continued to sit pensively beside their friend. Both were dwelling on Arthur and on his eventual return. Apparently, however, Gwaine was also thinking of something else. Narrowing his eyes, he finally spoke again. His voice was hoarse from the hours of rest it had taken.
“Have you noticed anything…” scrabbling for the correct word, he tilted his head to the side. “…odd about Morgana?”
A little startled by his words, Gwen gazed over to him. Narrowing her eyes, she waited for some kind of elaboration, an explanation; none came. He was gazing at her intently, expecting an answer.
“Well, today has been a long day,” She admitted smartly, raising her eyebrows at the horrific memories. “So much has happened-”
“-Yes, agreed.” Gwaine sighed, stroking his stubble pensively. “But she’s…not quite herself.” Hand resting on his chin, he glanced over at Gwen curiously. Lowering her eyes, Gwen fiddled with her fingers awkwardly. To deny she hadn’t noticed anything different about Morgana would be a lie. From the moment they were reunited in the tunnels, leading the people to safety, the woman didn’t look right at all. “What happened in Iaonam? Something seems to have shaken her.”
Calculatedly, Gwen lifted her eyes and began to recite all that she knew.
“She found Morgause in the tunnels,” meeting his eyes slowly, she grimaced. “When we were safe, and had escaped the blast she told me not to worry, because Morgause was dead.”
“Morgause is a powerful sorceress,” Gwaine mused, drawing his eyebrows together in confusion. He could remember her ominous presence in Camelot Enterprise. “No offence to Morgana but I doubt she could have taken her on, even Merlin seemed a little unsettled at the thought of dueling with her. Don’t you find it strange that Morgana came out of an encounter with her without a single scratch-”
“-I hard
ly think that’s important now Gwaine,” Gwen replied rather sternly. “Morgause is dead.” Pause.
Gwaine harboured an enigmatic sparkle in his eyes. It was one Gwen tried to ignore because she’d seen that look many times in others and disliked where it headed. She didn’t manage to ignore it for long, because Gwaine was speaking.
“You have every right to believe that, I mean why shouldn’t you-”
“-What are you saying?” Gwaine shrugged at her response, keeping himself to himself.
The fact that Gwaine refused to continue his thoughts greatly frustrated her. The emotion was quickly replaced with concern as Merlin made a peculiar sound halfway between coughing and gasping. Pressing her hand to his head, she soothingly hummed an ancient wordless Druid song Hunith had taught her. Studying Gwen quietly, the rugged man listened to her words. At times, Gwen almost reminded him of Merlin – she was wise, kind and just like him. She had led the people to Iaonem, and she had bought them home from Iaonam. Despite appearances, she was far from just a pretty face. She was brave and courageous.
“Morgana may appear to come across strong and untouchable, but she’s still a human being. Questioning her behavior, or her story, is hardly fair. No one has been themselves today. And we shouldn’t expect them to either, it’s been far from a normal day.”
Nodding, accepting her words, Gwaine smiled wearily. His eyes were locked on the diminished embers of the fire beside them. Merlin was still between them, breathing even and slow. He wasn’t naïve, Gwaine. Over the years he’d developed a skill he usually kept to himself. He was good at deductions – not to the extent of the legendary fictitious Sherlock Holmes – but still, he was good at them. When he knew someone, he knew them. Often he would catch friends by surprise with his ability to read their emotions, trace back to the origins of what was causing their troubles. Yes, nobody was really themselves today of all days. That didn’t mean Morgana wasn’t acting oddly. With a final sigh, he cast it to the back of his mind. It wasn’t of great importance right now. His eyes drifted over to Merlin and rested there until the sun began to creep elusively over the palpable forest.