Part 9: link


    Arthur, Merlin, and his new knights return to camp unnecessarily quietly, as everyone is already awake.
    Arthur is stunned at the scene before him: Guinevere, crouched beside his father, her hand on Uther’s forehead.
    “You’re not clammy anymore, Sire, that’s good,” he hears her soft voice. “Would you like some more?” she asks, indicating a metal mug at his feet.
    “Yes, I think so, thank you,” Uther answers, and Gwen turns to Geoffrey and checks him as well. Geoffrey refuses madami of the drink.
    She spots Arthur staring when she stands. “Welcome back,” she says.
    “What’s going on?” Arthur asks, walking toward her. He drops a halik on her cheek before turning to his father. “Father, are you ill?”
    “Just some stomach pain. Gaius thinks that we ate too much after having nothing for madami than a day,” Uther explains.
    Gaius thinks, Gwen cannot help but notice his words, and she shoots the king a tiny glare without realizing she’s done so. I hope he didn’t see that.
    “Well, actually Guinevere diagnosed it,” Uther sighs, looking down. “And treated it. Gaius just confirmed her diagnosis.”
    I guess he did see, Gwen thinks, surprised and embarrased. She carefully schools her face before returning with madami of the mint tsaa for the king.
    Arthur smiles proudly, and Uther scowls just a little. “Go ahead and say it, you know you want to,” he tells his son.
    “I told you so,” Arthur says, patting his father’s shoulder. “Any trouble while we were away?”
    “Apart from the king’s indigestion, nothing, my lord,” Leon reports.
    “Good,” Arthur says, glancing at Merlin, who nods slightly.
    “So our first priority, then, is to free the knights in the dungeons. Then we need to find that blasted cu— shh,” Arthur stops discussing strategy and silences the group. “Footsteps,” he whispers, barely audible.
    “I heard the alarm bells just before; they must have discovered the king is missing,” Leon whispers, just as quietly.
    Merlin stands, walking silently to the edge of their camp. Arthur glances at his father and stands, joining Merlin. He knows Merlin doesn’t need his assistance, but he also doesn’t want to give away Merlin’s secret to his father.
    Leon makes to stand, and Arthur motions that they should stay put and be silent. He gives one last glance back to check on Guinevere. She is sitting perfectly still, a beautiful statue, but her hands are clasped tightly in her lap, her white knuckles the only indicator of her anxiety. He winks at her and she smiles. Then Arthur disappears into the brush with Merlin.
    They make a circuit around their camp, Merlin muttering quietly, holding his hand out in front of him. Some of Morgause’s men come almost too close at one point, but they pass by, narrowly missing them.
    “What exactly are you doing?” Arthur whispers. Merlin shakes his head no, unable to interrupt his spell.
    “Tell me later, then.”
    They finish, and Merlin looks at Arthur and simply says, “Repellant.”
    “Ah,” Arthur nods. “Just something to keep them away, then. Subtle.”
    Merlin smiles and they re-enter the camp.
    Leon steps closer to Arthur. “So what is it that you had to go get?”
    Arthur unsheathes his new weapon just slightly and nods at it. “Magic sword.”
    “Nice,” Leon says. “May I?”
    “Um, sorry. I was expressly told not to let anyone else touch it. I know it’s probably killing you, but she was very specific.”
    Leon’s face falls slightly, but he understands.
    “I know that sword,” Gwen’s soft voice behind him startles him slightly. He hadn’t heard her approach.
    “You do?” Leon asks.
    “You should,” Arthur answers.
    “My father made that sword. He sinabi it was the finest one he’d ever made. I… I gave it to Merlin years ago…”
    “Yes,” Merlin joins them now, “you did. It was always meant for Arthur, even though Uther used it originally,” he frowns. “But it is where it belongs now.”
    “How?” Gwen asks, reaching her hand toward the handle, touching it with her finger, clearly missing her father.
    Arthur looks down suddenly, but then Merlin says, “Arthur, I don’t think Freya was referring to your wife when she gave you that warning.”
    “So what’s so special about this sword?” Leon asks.
    “It will kill Morgause’s undead soldiers,” Arthur explains. “At least that’s what Merlin tells me.”
    “Merlin, what did you do to this sword?” Gwen asks.
    “I didn’t do anything. Kilgarrah burnished the blade with his fire,” Merlin explains.
    “I have got to meet that dragon,” she says. “Come, sit. Your father is going to get suspicious if we keep standing here whispering.”
    They sit, and Arthur studies the apoy for a bit. Thinking.
    Elyan comes to sit beside Gwen.
    “He knighted us,” he whispers in her ear.
    Gwen gasps and looks at him. “Really?”
    “With the new sword. At the edge of the lake. Gwen, I wish you had been there. It was beautiful.”
    “Father would be so proud of you, Sir Elyan,” she whispers, leaning her head on his shoulder.
    “You, too, princess.”
    “Elyan,” she lifts her head and looks at him, “since we’re sharing secrets…”
    “What?” he asks, intrigued.
    She leans over and whispers quietly in his ear, “You’re going to be an uncle.”
    He wraps his arm around her and hugs her sideways, halik her forehead, unable to stop grinning.

xXx

    “So. Morgana has had roughly two days of being queen. No opposition. No uprising. She and Morgause should be nice and comfortable about now, don’t you think?” Arthur finally speaks. The moon has grown small and low, but the sun has not yet started to make its appearance.
    “She’s probably sleeping in some comfortable bed, thinking she’s won,” Gwaine adds, grinning, knowing what Arthur is thinking.
    “Her army is growing bored. Perhaps getting a little lax,” Percival joins in, a glint in his eyes.
    “And I think it’s fairly ligtas to say we definitely have the element of surprise on our side.” This from Leon.
    “Not only that,” Arthur says, fishing into his tunic, “I still have the keys to the cells.” He tosses them to Percival, who catches them easily.
    “What’s the plan?” Bors asks.
    “Percival, Gwaine, Elyan, and Bors head to the dungeons and release the men,” Arthur instructs.
    “Leon, Lancelot, Merlin and I will go after the cup. Remember: we cannot kill these men, but they can be knocked unconscious, as Percival so deftly demonstrated yesterday. Save your swords for when they will be of real use.”
    “Um, once the cup is spilled, we still may not need them,” Merlin says darkly. His face is grim. Sad. “Morgause did not give them immortality. She gave them certain death.”
    “So when the cup is spilled…?” Lancelot asks. Merlin nods.
    “I’ll wager Morgause didn’t share that piece of information with them when she sold them her bill of goods,” Elyan comments. There is general agreement around the fire.
    “We must not pity these men,” Merlin says, steeling himself. “Even though they were misled, they still enlisted, they still willingly gave their blood to the cup. They agreed to help them usurp the trono of Camelot.”
    “And therefore are our enemies,” Arthur nods resolutely. “Come. The sooner we depart, the sooner we will achieve victory.”
    He stands, and the others follow suit. “Prepare yourselves for battle,” he says, then walks over to where Guinevere is conferring with Gaius about preparations for wounded.
    “Guinevere,” Arthur calls softly, and she steps over to him.
    He places his hands at her waist, his thumbs absently stroking her stomach. “I know I don’t need to tell you to stay here, but… stay here.”
    “I know,” she whispers. “Gaius and I will prepare bandages and supplies for any wounded.”
    “Good,” he nods. He stares down at her for a few moments, as if he is trying to memorize her face. “If… if I don’t make it back…”
    “No,” she interrupts him.
    “No?”
    “No. Don’t say it. You will return to me, Arthur. I don’t want to hear any ‘if-I-never-see-you-again’ speeches. Because that is not going to happen.” She moves her hands up to cup his face, her thumbs stroking his cheeks, her fingertips in his hair. “I couldn’t be madami proud of you, Arthur, and I know you will return to me. To us.”
    His hand strays across her stomach now, and turns his face to halik one of her hands.
    “You will return to me, victorious, having reclaimed Camelot for your father. For yourself.”
    “For my people,” he adds. “For our future.”
    “I pag-ibig you so much, Arthur,” she says, and he drops his head, resting his forehead against hers.
    “I pag-ibig you more,” he answers.
    “You always say that, and I just don’t see how that’s possible,” she says, choking a small laugh as a few tears slip from her eyes.
    Arthur dips his head further, claiming her lips, pulling her into a searing kiss, and her hands wind around his neck, into his hair as he clutches her waist, sliding around to hold her.
    They part at last and he embraces her tightly, tucking his face into her neck, breathing her in so that he can take the memory of her scent with him.
    Then, surprising everyone, Arthur drops to his knees and kisses Guinevere’s stomach gently, reverently.
    “Merlin,” Gwaine mutters, “is Gwen…?”
    Merlin nods.
    “No wonder you were so against her coming here,” Percival comments quietly.
    Merlin nods again. “She’ll be fine,” he says. “She’s well-protected,” he adds, somewhat cryptically.
    Arthur returns to his men, who are now all giving him knowing looks. “Okay, so the secret’s out. Now focus,” he tells them.
    “What secret?” Leon asks.
    “Gwen’s with child,” Gwaine tells him.
    “She is?” Leon exclaims, wide-eyed.
    “Maybe if you’re lucky she’ll let you be her nursemaid,” Gwaine says, laughing over Leon’s obvious excitement.
    Arthur clears his throat.
    Right.
    “I’m coming, too,” Uther’s voice makes them all turn.
    “Father, you should stay here. You’re still weak,” Arthur argues.
    “I am the king. Camelot is my kingdom. I will fight for her. And you seem to have an extra sword,” he says, holding out his hand.
    “Father, please…”
    “Sword, Arthur.”
    Sighing, Arthur hands his father his old sword. The regular one. “Under protest.” Arthur raises and eyebrow at him.
    “Understood.”
    Gwen rushes pasulong to hug Merlin once, telling him to be careful. Then she hugs Elyan tightly, whispering, “I pag-ibig you, little brother.”
    Arthur smiles at her, and she steps towards him, squeezes his hand once, and heads back beside Gaius and Geoffrey as the men depart.

xXx

    Percival, Gwaine, Elyan, and Bors creep to the dungeons, Bors in the lead as he is most familiar with the grounds. Morgause’s men are a little madami alert than they were the last time they were here, no doubt threatened sa pamamagitan ng Morgause to be madami vigilant.
    Nevertheless, they can still be dropped with a well-placed punch. Percival drops his third man and flexes his fingers, which crack noisily.
    “Probably should switch hands,” he muses.
    “You can do that?” Bors asks.
    “What, manuntok with my left as well as my right? Yeah, can’t you?”
    “Um, sure, of course,” he answers, and Gwaine snickers.
    Another corner, another guard. To prove his point, Percival delivers a perfect punch, left-handed, and the guard drops like a stone.
    He grins at Bors, who rolls his eyes. “Come on, though here,” he says. They are at a different entrance, a smaller one on the opposite side of the dungeon from yesterday.
    “Clever, going a different way,” Gwaine says, nodding.
    “Not just a pretty face, mate,” Bors answers.
    “Not a pretty face at all,” Gwaine shoots back.
    “All right, ladies, Arthur’s men are waiting,” Percival interrupts. “Let’s go and get them out.”
    Bors pushes the door open just a little, then, inspired, slams it open, wide and hard. They are rewarded with a grunt, a wheeze, and a thump as the guard behind it slides to the floor, unconscious.
    “Nice,” Elyan says as Bors grins. They slip inside and find a sea of hopeful faces peering through bars, drawn sa pamamagitan ng the noise.
    Bors immediately puts his finger to his lips and Percival holds up the keys. Behind them, Gwaine and Elyan have found some rope and are tying up the guard so he won’t be any trouble when he wakes.
    Percival slips through the cells, unlocking doors, answering tanong about who he and Gwaine are and why they don’t need to worry too much about weapons.
    He’s two-thirds through when the alarm bells sound, and guards start streaming in.
    “Just drop them, you can’t kill them!” Percival yells, and moments later, the dungeon is a swarming brawl.

xXx

    “Do you have any idea where she might have the cup, Merlin?” Arthur asks quietly, wondering how long he’ll be able to keep Merlin’s secret from his father with Uther tagging along.
    “Well, if it was me, I’d have it in the vaults, behind ten layers of locks and enchanted booby traps,” Merlin answers. “But this is Morgause, so she probably has it on a pedestal in a room somewhere. Probably one of the towers. Guarded, no doubt, but still a tribute to her boundless hubris.”
    “Ooo, fancy words, Merlin,” Arthur says, chuckling. “And you’re probably right. She thinks she’s won, that she’s infallible.”
    “I almost feel bad for her,” Lancelot adds.
    “You’ve obviously never met Morgause,” Merlin tells him.
    “And don’t forget, she is fearsome with a sword as well as being a sorceress. Right, Arthur?” Leon says, unable to resist.
    “Shut up,” Arthur snaps.
    “What is he talking about?” Lancelot asks Merlin.
    “I’ll tell you later,” Merlin promises.
    “Merlin, can you do… something to track it? You told me you can sense magical things, can you, like, hone in on the cup?” Arthur asks quietly.
    “I can try,” he says. They are in a little-used corridor in the back of the castle, near the kitchens. Merlin closes his eyes.
    “Sire, where are you going?” Leon’s voice interrupts Merlin’s concentration and he opens them to see Uther heading off alone, down the corridor.
    “Father!” Arthur hisses after him, “what the hell are you doing?”
    “I’m going to find Morgana,” Uther calls softly back. “I… I need to talk with her, Arthur. I feel I can bring her back to us if I just talk with her.” His face is bleak.
    “But…” Arthur starts, but before he can continue, Uther has dashed away, alone. Arthur is about to shout, but Merlin grabs his arm, stopping him.
    “Arthur, no! You can’t give away our position!” Merlin warns, but Kilgarrah’s warning drifts back into his brain. Her soul has been turned black sa pamamagitan ng her hatred for Uther. Freya’s words immediately follow. You must do what is necessary, Merlin. He squeezes his eyes shut, conflicted.
    “Merlin?” Arthur prompts.
    Let Uther go. If we send Leon or Lancelot with him, we may lose two men instead of possibly just one. Where are your loyalties, Merlin? Are they to Uther, oppressor of all magical peoples, murderer? Or are they to Arthur, who has accepted your magic and is prepared to reward you for your service and loyalty? Arthur, who is destined to restore magic to Camelot? Arthur, who has already proved himself a better ruler than Uther ever has been?
    Silly question.
    “This way,” Merlin opens his eyes and leads the way, heading for a stairwell.
    As they walk along, Merlin’s steps become madami purposeful, and Arthur puzzles at him, as he notices Merlin’s eyes are closed as he walks.
    “Merlin!” he calls out suddenly. Guards have appeared and the alarm bells are sounding.
    Arthur steps in front of Merlin, brandishing Excalibur, trying not to grin. The guards eye him with smug disdain.
    Poor, ignorant fools, Arthur thinks.
    I hope this thing works. He raises the sword and attacks the first guard, who battles back adeptly, but he is no match for Arthur’s skills, and soon enough, Arthur makes contact with Excalibur, thrusting deep into the man’s belly, and he explodes in a paliguan of golden sparks.
    Everyone jumps in surprise. Especially the other guards, who look at one another, suddenly petrified, pausing in their battles with Lancelot and Leon. Merlin has already knocked out two others with a flick of his wrist and a flash of his eyes.
    “Whoa,” Arthur says, and finally he allows the grin to spread across his face.
    It is the single scariest thing Merlin has ever seen. And that’s saying something. Arthur roars and attacks, dispatching the remaining guards with an almost elementary simplicity.
    “Thank you, Freya,” Arthur says to the air, figuring she can probably hear him.
    “Good thing Uther left, actually,” Lancelot mutters as they press onward, following Merlin and Arthur.
    Higher and higher they climb, dropping guards left and right, either sa pamamagitan ng Merlin’s magic or Excalibur, and eventually they stop down the corridor from a room with four armed guards standing outside.
    “Told you,” Merlin says, almost laughing.

xXx

    “Gwen, where are you going?” Gaius asks. She was nearly to the edge of the camp already.
    “I’m getting madami water. We’ll need lots for any wounded,” she says.
    “You’re not to go alone,” Gaius warns, stepping over to sumali her.
    “What about Geoffrey?” Gwen asks, indicating the other man seated sa pamamagitan ng the fire. To his credit, he looks extraordinarily bored.
    “I’ll be fine. No one is interested in me anyway,” he chuckles. “Just don’t be too long.”
    “You’re sure?” she asks.
    “Yes, go on,” he waves. “I wish I had a book…” he mutters as they disappear.
    As Gaius and Gwen pick their way down the increasingly-apparent path to the stream, Gaius finally asks.
    “So Gwen, how long have you known, exactly?”
    “About what?” she asks. About Merlin? she wonders.
    “About being with child, dear.”
    “Oh, that. I thought you were asking about Merlin,” she laughs. “About a month. It must have happened fairly quickly…” she trails off, blushing.
    “I would say,” Gaius agrees.
    “Um, Arthur and I were married the araw after we fled Camelot, just so you know,” she clarifies, not wanting Gaius to think that the child had been conceived illegitimately.
    “Yes, Merlin told me,” Gaius answers.
    “Is it that obvious yet?” she asks, furrowing her brow, her hand drifting over her stomach. Have I gotten bigger still?
    “Well, I am a physician, Guinevere,” Gaius laughs. “Plus we all pretty much figured it out when Arthur knelt down and kissed your stomach before he left.”
    Gwen laughs now, too, and says, “Remind me not to tell him anything I don’t want found out sa pamamagitan ng everyone.”
    They reach the stream and stoop to fill the water skins.
    “You are feeling well, then? No illness or dizziness?” Gaius asks, shifting back into physician mode.
    “I feel fantastic, actually. Never better. Well, except for the constant worrying about Arthur, of course. And Merlin. And everyone else.”
    “When things settle back down, you will be seeing the midwife, yes?”
    “Yes,” Gwen nods, knowing that Gaius wasn’t really asking. “I will, Arthur has already insis… what’s that sound?” she whispers. There is a strange rustling noise accompanied sa pamamagitan ng an odd squeak off to her left.
    “Gwen, it’s probably a wounded animal,” Gaius warns. “It’s best to leave it.”
    Gwen ignores him and follows the sound. She peeks behind a bush, silent and slow. Gaius watches as her shoulders relax.
    “It’s just a pup, Gaius,” she says, bending and picking up a shaggy grey dog, large but not yet full-grown, with long legs and ears and feet he has yet to grow into. “He’s got an injured paw.”
    Gaius almost laughs at the sight of her, hefting this oversized tuta in her arms. He is an armload for her, his long legs dangling. He lifts his head and licks her chin and she giggles.
    “Let me see,” he says, allowing himself to laugh now. Gwen sits on the fallen tree, cuddling the dog in her lap while Gaius looks at his foot. “Oh, this isn’t anything major,” he declares, “just a cut. It’s dirty and… somewhat deep, but it will heal. Here, hold his paw out.”
    Gwen does, and he pours some of the water they’ve just gathered onto the wound. The dog whines, but Gwen shushes him and holds him close, letting him know that he is safe.
    “This isn’t a cut,” Gaius frowns, “this pup was shackled. Who would do that?”
    “I think I can guess,” Gwen says, rubbing the dog under his chin. He lifts his head and makes a soft grunting noise. The canine equivalent of a purr.
    “I know one of Uther’s hunting Aso had a litter a few months ago. I’ll bet this is one of them. Looks like he’s big enough to have been weaned already, thankfully.”
    “Let’s take him back and bandage that paw,” Gwen declares, standing again. Gaius goes and refills his water skin.
    “Is he heavy? I don’t know that I like you carrying him, Gwen.”
    “He’s fine, Gaius. I don’t want his injury to get any dirtier sa pamamagitan ng having him limp along the forest floor.”
    Gaius knows there is no winning this argument, so he says nothing.
    Back at camp, Geoffrey startles at the sight of Gwen carrying a dog with her, but somehow it doesn’t surprise him, as he knows she is a nurturing sort, remembering her tendency to leave kusina scraps for strays behind the castle.
    Between them they clean and dress the dog’s wounded foot, give him some water to drink and some bites of leftover meat from the nakaraan night’s dinner. Gwen arranges her red wool blanket into sort of a little nest for the dog, patting it with her hand to call him over. He limps over to it, sniffs it, turns around three times in place, then lays down, curling into a ball, nose to tail.
    “I’m keeping him.”
    “Of course you are,” Gaius chuckles.
    “I know he’s a hunting dog sa pamamagitan ng nature, but I should like to keep him. He can be my protector,” she nods, satisfied with herself. Then she crouches down beside the dog and says, “Would you like that, Smith? Would you like to stay with me?”
    He lifts his head again and licks her nose. She kisses the tuktok of his head and he drops it back down, falling immediately into the kind of exhausted sleep that only Aso get to experience.
    “Smith?” Gaius asks.
    “I thought of it on the way back. For my father.”
    The alarm bells sound, and Gwen’s head snaps up, looking in the direction of the castle, her face wide-eyed and suddenly very worried.

Part 11: link