fic: Dragonscape - part 6

[lasermignon]

Dragonscape - part 6
master list


"Your mother?" Arthur asked, but it seemed he had no capacity to deal with that additional revelation just yet. "You understand what she's saying, then?" he asked, looking baffled but also relieved.

"Of course I do," Merlin said, equally mystified. "Don't you?"

Arthur glanced at Hunith but she remained silent, so he turned back to Merlin.

"Can you ask her why she came here? What she wants?" Arthur looked as though he felt stupid asking that. Of course a mother had every right to come after her child. Uther, though, was expecting an explanation. However, Merlin felt the matter was not at all as straightforward as it seemed. He turned to his mother, waiting for her to answer the question but she only looked at him expectantly.

"What is it, Merlin?" she said after a beat of silence. "What did he say?"

"You can't understand them either?" Merlin asked.

Uther lost his patience then. "I do not know what kind of sorcery this is," the King said in a dangerous tone, "but you can spend some time in the dungeons, boy, if you won't make her talk soon."

"Father!" Arthur began to say but his objections were stifled with a glance from Uther.

Merlin swallowed, fear gripping his insides. "She means no harm, Sire," he said. Hunith must have sensed that the situation was going downhill; she tugged on Merlin's shirt to gain his attention and then began to speak in a rushed flow of half-whispers. His blood ran cold when the meaning of her words penetrated his mind.

"She says she came after me because they need help," he translated, his voice shaking with disbelief. "Ealdor is overrun with the dead. Two strangers came through the tunnel and woke them. The Dragonlord has been taken, perhaps even killed, but she thinks they need him alive. Last time she spoke with Balinor, he said the Dragon was going to hatch soon; a Dragonlord would need to call it from the egg." He turned to the King. "That's what she's saying."

The King, though, did not look satisfied. If possible, he looked even more enraged than before.

"Lies!" he roared. Then he leant close to Merlin, eyes flashing, and spoke to him in quiet, menacing tones. "You think you can deceive me with such poorly constructed lies?"

"They are no lies, I swear!" Merlin yelped.

"Dragonlord, what Dragonlord?" Uther growled. "There are no Dragonlords anymore! And where is this place called Ealdor? It must be very far from Camelot if you don't even speak the same language," he added shrewdly, looking to catch them at an obvious lie. "Or could it be," he asked without expecting an answer, "that the two of you are sorcerers, speaking the language of magic?"

"What?" Merlin blinked, too taken aback to think of an answer.

"Answer me!" Uther roared; no one dared interrupting him. "Are you the sorcerers responsible for releasing the Great Dragon? Are you the ones who caused the water and the cold and the deaths?" Then his eyes narrowed to slits and his voice became icy calm. "Are you the ones who kidnapped the Lady Morgana?"

"I-" Merlin did not know what to say. After all, he was probably accountable for the things of which the King had accused him. Uther did not even need his confession, as he could probably read the guilt in his eyes.

"Sire, perhaps we should think through…" Gaius attempted to employ the voice of reason but Uther dismissed him with a wave. It was clear he already had his mind made up on the matter.

"It is clear that these two," he gestured towards Merlin and Hunith still kneeling within the threatening ring of knights, "are sorcerers and are trying to deceive us with their lies. Throw them into a dungeon cell; see if some time spent in the cold will loosen their tongues."

Two of the guards grabbed onto Hunith's arms and another two pulled Merlin from the floor and dragged them away.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Merlin had always imagined dungeons to be dark and dank. Camelot's dungeons were neither. The big room which housed the cells was like any other room in the castle. It had no window but the walls radiated light. It was a pale, barely-there light which did not provide any warmth. There were four cells in a row, separated by iron bars from the rest of the room and each other. There was no furniture in them, not even a heap of straw. In fact, the floors were cleaner than any place which was populated by people. Whatever traces the previous occupants had left there had long disappeared, which indicated that the cells were not regularly used.

Merlin and Hunith were put in separate cells with one empty cell left between them, probably to prevent them whispering among themselves. It was a futile effort as they could have just talked normally if they wanted to and the guards would not understand anything of their words. It also took away any possibility of keeping themselves from freezing by huddling up next to another body, even with cold iron bars separating them.

They did talk a little, as Merlin had to explain his mother why she had ended up in a cold cell when she came to appeal to Camelot's benevolence. He had to explain about sorcerers and Hunith of course did not believe any of it at first, so Merlin had to assure her that magic, was quite real indeed - or at least things that people called magic but were actually the Great Dragon's dealings. And then he had to confess that despite Balinor's hopes and claims, he was very far from being a real dragonlord yet and the King might be right about it all being his fault.

Of course the guards did not like them talking, but they could do nothing to enforce silence apart from ordering them to keep quiet and, when that achieved nothing, beating their prong shafts against the bars. They had stopped after a while; not because they were intimidated, but because their teeth had started chattering too much to articulate properly.

Some time later Gaius came to visit with Gwen by his side. She brought them food and blankets but the guards would not let them have any of it, until Arthur turned up as well and ordered them to stand down. He had no weapons or knights with him but they obeyed his words anyhow, even looking slightly chastened.

"Sire?" Gaius asked.

Arthur shook his head. "I tried but he wouldn't relent." He looked disappointed and annoyed but Merlin could see no fear in his eyes, which he took as a good sign.

"I'm sure he'll see sense in the morning," Gaius muttered. He only stayed long enough to ascertain himself of Merlin's health and then left to do research at the King's bidding.

Arthur had been carrying even more food and blankets.

Arthur then tried relieving the guards from their duty, taking all responsibility for the prisoners upon himself, but they did not dare disobey the King's direct orders to that extent, even though they looked as though they would like nothing better than leave for someplace warmer. In the end, Arthur told Gwen to give them blankets (Arthur had only brought one. Merlin recognised it as having been liberated from Arthur's own bed and of a much better quality) and distributed the rest between the two cells. Gwen gave Merlin a hot rat pie and it was the most wonderful thing Merlin had ever eaten. The filling in the middle still maintained some warmth.

"I already told him everything that happened in the cave," Arthur told Merlin after he had let himself into his cell. "We're going to stay here, so you two won't freeze in your sleep."

The guards tried to protest, but Arthur just took their keys and did not give them back even after he had let Gwen into Hunith's cell and opened Merlin's. The doors remained unlocked. Arthur sat next to Merlin and wound the thick fur blanket around their bodies, while Gwen and Hunith curled up in another one two cells down.

"I'm not going to let anything happen to you or your mother. This I swear." Arthur looked straight into Merlin's eyes; he was entirely serious about his promise. It should not have reassured Merlin so easily, but it did. He believed Arthur and he believed in Arthur, despite knowing that Arthur was just one man, even if he was Uther's son and the Pendragon. What could he do if the King decided he wanted Merlin's head off?

"Against all appearances, he actually does like you, Merlin," Arthur said, watching Merlin eat.

"And if that's not enough?" Merlin looked at him.

"We'll go to Ealdor."

Arthur's body was like a living furnace after the cold wall against which Merlin had been leaning for the past hours. It proved very hard to keep himself at a respectable distance and eventually futile as Arthur just brushed aside propriety and pulled Merlin against his chest with an arm around his middle.

They did not talk after the food was gone. Gwen and Hunith were hard pressed to communicate with words, so instead they used smiles, and they both seemed to be well enough versed in this language to get over basic introductions. After a while, they both drifted off to sleep, and a little later, their guards were snoring as well. Perhaps there had been something in the food.

Arthur's body was wonderfully solid and inviting, pressed against his own and cocooned by soft fur. Despite sitting in a cold dungeon cell, Merlin thought he had never been more comfortable in his life than at this very moment. Arthur's palm moved slowly over Merlin's stomach, soothing him, relaxing his apprehensions stroke by stroke. Merlin sighed and sank into the freely offered comfort, letting his eyelids slip closed. He burrowed his nose into Arthur's throat to take a deep breath of the scent which had become familiar to him from nights spent sleeping in Arthur's bed, surrounded by it. He felt Arthur's own breath hitch under his cheek.

"I had plans, you know," Arthur breathed into Merlin's ear. "You, me, my bed; there might not have been much sleeping on the agenda, and I don't just mean stargazing." His voice, quiet and rasping, sent shivers down Merlin's spine. Or perhaps his words did. Merlin lifted his head from Arthur's shoulder until they were face to face.

"How many innocents you must have lured into your bed with that excuse, I cannot imagine," Merlin smirked.

Arthur snorted. "As if there could be anyone else besides you," he said, and Merlin knew he must have meant the bit where people were generally afraid of stepping foot into his room, but it ended up sounding as though he had meant something entirely different. Merlin's heart gave a sharp thud, for something in Merlin, deep down, wanted it to be what it sounded; an impossible thing.

He wanted to say something back; something light-hearted, teasing, to relieve the unexpected heaviness of the moment. But Arthur's face was right there, his breath shallow and his eyes betraying the hope and uncertainty which the confidence of his tone had concealed well enough that Merlin had almost fallen for the charade.

And then Arthur scrunched up his eyes, as though in fear, and closed the last distance between their lips. The kiss did not start out well, it went a bit sideways, but Merlin was happy enough to tug on the soft hair that grew on Arthur's nape and navigate him into the right position. Arthur's mouth opened right away and there was a little bit too much tongue, but Merlin did not mind. His mind was too busy cataloguing all the ways it felt good and right to pay any attention to small things such as technique.

He did not notice when their position changed from half-sitting up to lying down but it happened quite without their notice and the kissing never stopped. The furs sheltered them from the cold and Arthur's body was a warm weight over Merlin's own. He could feel Arthur's erection straining against his stomach, but Arthur did not try to do anything with it; instead he focussed his full concentration on Merlin's mouth, one hand cradling Merlin's chin and the other stroking sensuous lines over his throat. Merlin's arms held onto Arthur's waist, played with his hair and kept him close enough to taste.

Some time later, the kisses tapered off into lazy, tired touches and small caresses, soft, heavy-lidded smiles. And then they slept, curled around each other, warm with the intimacy of the small, safe world they created inside a blanket, isolated for the moment from the harsh reality of the outside world.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

They woke to shrieking.

At first Merlin thought the noise had just been the last figment of his dream. He had dreamt of Ealdor besieged by the Dead; pale, emaciated bodies shuffling forward, killing with a touch. Nothing but fairytale monsters. He was comfortable, wrapped in furs, with Arthur's smell filling his nose, and overhead there was the infinite blackness of space with its shining carpet of stars; the sun hid behind the planet and everything was shrouded in darkness. He thought he was waking up in Arthur's sleeping chambers after a few restful hours of sleep.

Arthur was already up, woken as the first screams rose, and was talking quietly with the guards who looked more than a little unnerved.

When he noticed Merlin was awake, he came back through the wide-open cell door which he did not even bother closing behind him, and knelt so that they could talk without making too much noise. Just then new screams sounded and the pounding of running feet soon mingled with them. There were yelled words but they were not clear enough to understand.

"I have to go, see what's happening," Arthur said. "But I'll be back, or I'll send Leon if I cannot come personally."

Merlin nodded. He noticed then that his mother was also awake, just sitting up, but Gwen was still asleep.

But one of the guards started objecting. "Sire, the skies have opened up, we cannot stay here," he said. "We cannot stay here!"

He sounded panicked; he no longer cared about the prisoners he had been charged with; he could not take his eyes from the sight of the starry sky bared over their heads. His yelling had woken Gwen, who looked just as terrified.

"All right," Arthur decided. He stood and raised his voice to make it clear his next words were addressed to everyone present. "There is no time to waste. I'm going to Father, and you're all coming with me." This included the guards as well, which they accepted with relief rather than with protests; they would apparently rather choose to face their king's ire than to be left on their own, under the naked sky.

The King was found in the throne room, in the circle of his advisors, listening to the knights' reports. Merlin wondered whether he had spent all this time there, but that seemed rather unlikely. Arthur told them to stay out of sight behind one of the large pillars that lined the throne room and walked down the length of the chamber to the King on his own. Uther noticed his presence, but ignored it in favour of letting the knight finish his report. Arthur was content to wait in silence and listen, as he wanted to know what was happening as well.

"Few places are still unaffected, my Lord. The lower corridors are most likely to be last to change, but their ceilings have begun to turn as well. And that's not the worst of it."

"Tell me about the worst," the King ordered warily.

"Panic is breaking out everywhere." The knight shook his head; he was a middle-aged man, looking on the brink of panicking himself. Merlin had seen him around but did not know his name. "Presently, we have the situation under control but I don't know how long that will last."

More reports followed in a similar vein while Arthur was left waiting, and although some of the knights and advisors threw him curious glances, they did not dare address him until the King had done so.

Merlin learnt that the people of Camelot were concerned about the stars showing in the sky. The sight of the vast, open blackness frightened them; most of them had never seen anything like it before. Some started talking about the Dragon making ready to wipe out humanity - to throw them out among the stars. Others thought it was the harbinger of another Blight, and this time it would be so bright that it would eradicate all life inside the Dragon, and there was no hiding from it even inside the castle. Understandably, panic was rising among the populace. Those present were not exempt of this fear either.

Merlin carefully wiggled around the pillar to better hear what was being said but he must not have been careful enough, as one of the knights spotted him moving in the shadows and called out to announce his presence.

Uther had not acknowledged Arthur but when he spotted Merlin, he turned his full attention on him without hesitation.

"You! What are you doing here? How did you get here?" Uther hissed. He must have been overworked already for his temper flared at even this slight provocation. He strode down the length of the throne room towards Merlin's hiding place.

"He's with me, father, I brought him here," Arthur said, hurrying after Uther, but the King took no notice.

"Did you do this?" he demanded of Merlin instead. He was already only paces from Merlin when he stopped and gestured to encompass the entire ceiling. "Answer me, were you the one who opened up the sky?"

Before Merlin could have gathered his wits for an answer, Arthur stepped in front of him. "He is not and you know it," he said.

The King did not seem pleased by his interference.

"Do I?" he asked. He looked Arthur up and down as though he was seeing him for the first time. Merlin stepped forward silently, putting a supportive hand on Arthur's back and feeling the tense muscles relax under his touch. The King did not miss any of this interaction; his eyes narrowed and he asked, "Can I even trust my own son anymore? For all I know, you're under their enchantment."

Arthur huffed and shook his head in exasperation. "Now you're just being ridiculous," he groaned, surprising himself with his own words, but he recovered quickly enough that Uther did not seem to notice the slight stutter, perhaps because he was too enraged to pay attention to small details like that. "There has never been a sorcerer who could command people's minds; they can only influence the Great Dragon."

"How do you explain your behaviour, then?" Uther asked, grim, seeming on edge. "You were ordered to make them talk by any means necessary."

Merlin paled and felt Arthur straighten his back, the muscles shifting and pulling taut under his palm. But when Arthur spoke next, he sounded calm and confident, even though Merlin could feel him shaking; he did not know whether it was from fear or rage. Merlin knew which emotion he himself was affected by.

"And I did." But only a moment later, Arthur no longer sounded composed. "And you know what? It only took someone willing to listen instead of flinging around accusations and pointing fingers. Making someone out as a scapegoat never solved any problems."

Uther's face twitched. "They inflict diseases on Camelot; they make everyone freeze to death; and now this! What more do you need to believe me that sorcerers are dangerous? They killed Agravaine and took Morgana!" he roared and with that last accusation, all fight seemed to go out of him and then there was silence.

"Father," Arthur said gently for he must have seen something on Uther's face which Merlin did not recognise but Arthur did. "No one took Morgana."

Heavy silence underscored that statement.

"What do you mean?" Uther sounded confused and no longer angry, just lost. His face changed; the rage melted off it as though it had been only a coat of paint covering his features, and what was left was tiredness and uncertainty.

"You were going to execute her sister," Arthur said. "What did you think she was going to do?" Arthur shook his head. "As for Agravaine, he was blackmailing them. It was probably Morgana or Morgause who killed him when he tried to stop them."

"But where would they go?" Arthur had no answer for that.

"They are in Ealdor," Merlin said, suddenly remembering her mother saying something about two strangers having appeared right before the troubles began. "Ealdor has no Dragon, so there is nothing for her to influence. On the other hand, there is a dragonlord and a dragonlord's presence prevents sorcerers from influencing the Dragon." Everyone looked at him as though he had grown a second head. Then Arthur's lips curled into a tiny, approving smile.

Uther, though, only understood one thing from it. "See? Even Morgana does not trust her. She is a sorceress! Sorcerers are…"

"Not evil. Just uncontrollable." Arthur sighed, the tension gone from his shoulders now that the confrontation was over. "I don't think they knew any of that. I suspect they just wanted to be gone from Camelot and then accidentally found the tunnel."

"What is this tunnel you speak of?" one of Uther's advisors asked. He was an old man, although probably not as old as Gaius - who was, Merlin only noticed now, inexplicably not present, but also not as spry. He dared stepping closer, now that the King's ire had calmed down. "Where is this Ealdor?"

"Is this Ealdor safe from all this?" Another advisor asked, gesturing at the sky. "Can we go there?" Merlin did not know what to say to that; he had not even considered the possibility.

Just when he was about to say that, a sliver of light cut into the darkness overhead. It formed a crescent, which slowly stretched wider and wider. Merlin recognised the sight from having watched the sunrise that first time in Balinor's inner chamber: it was the first rays of sunlight shining through the top layers of the planet's atmosphere, making it appear as a thin slice of brightness which cut into the dark velvet of space, in the seconds before the planet turned enough that the sun could illuminate its turbulent surface. But as Merlin watched, he felt that something was wrong, out of place.

The shining sickle in the sky just grew and grew and Merlin had never seen it this big before, not even from the crystal cave. And then the sun finally rose over the horizon, its rays sweeping over the planet's surface, and Merlin looked on, cowed by the awesome sight before him. The planet was much larger than it was supposed to be. But planets don't grow, Merlin thought, stupefied, watching as sunlight revealed more and more of the planet.

An awed silence filled the throne room, as though everyone were holding their breath, and then Merlin suddenly realised that the planet had not grown but was closer, much closer than Merlin had ever seen it, even from Ealdor. It was more than twice its usual size, so they must be twice as close, well inside the rings, even when Ealdor's orbit was just outside them.

Except that it no longer was. The sun rose higher and more of the planet became visible, and then Merlin saw Ealdor. It was not safely established in its orbit behind the rings but wedged into a thin lane between the third and the fourth ring. The Great Dragon, which used to be closer to the planet when Merlin first saw it, was now above it, the dark cord of the tunnel pulled taut between them.

It took a few heartbeats for the meaning of that sight to sink in, and when it did, Merlin's heart began to beat in double-time. Ealdor would be drawn closer and closer towards the planet and Camelot would follow it, share its fate to be burned up in the planet's thick atmosphere.

Merlin tugged on Arthur's sleeve and drew him away from the group, though they went only far enough to get some privacy. "Arthur, we need to find Balinor. He's the only one who knows how to stop this." Merlin noticed his voice was shaking with fear, but this was not a time to care about appearances.

Arthur's hand landed on his shoulder and gave a reassuring squeeze. "But did your mother not say he's been taken prisoner by someone? He might no longer even be alive." He paused. "What about… you?"

Merlin had known what Arthur going to ask even before the words were out of his mouth; knew and dreaded it for he knew his answer would not satisfy. He shook his head, crestfallen, feeling the most useless he had ever felt in his life. "Let's hope Balinor still lives."

Arthur gave his shoulder another squeeze and nodded. Merlin was thankful he had not let his disappointment show on his features.

"Look," Arthur said, making his voice be heard by everyone, his authority wrapped around him like a cloak. "I am the Pendragon, and I say you don't have to be afraid of the sky. There is not going to be a Blight and no one is going to fall out of the Dragon. That, however," he pointed a finger in the direction where Ealdor was making its dangerous way within the rings, somehow avoiding constant bombardment by the rock fragments, but a flash of explosion now and then signalled that they did not elude it completely, "is a problem."

"What is that?" the same advisor who wanted to know if they could relocate to Ealdor asked.

"That is Ealdor," Arthur answered, his voice grim.

"It is pulling us into the planet!" the man exclaimed, horror-struck. There was no need to point out that Ealdor seemed to be a less safe location even than Camelot.

"And what do you intend to do about it?" Uther blustered, having found his voice once again. "What can we even do?"

Arthur pulled himself up to his full height, meeting the confrontation as an equal.

"I'm going to take some of the knights," he told Uther; he was not asking for the King's permission. "We are going to Ealdor and find the Dragonlord. Then we will bring him to Camelot, and he's going to command the Great Dragon to change its course."

"This is suicide, Arthur. You cannot go there," Uther gestured towards the half-submerged asteroid, shaking his head. "I cannot allow this!" Arthur, though, was adamant.

"We can either make an attempt to save Ealdor or let Camelot follow it to its doom."

And that was that.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Life in Camelot resumed as before, although people still threw fearful looks above their heads; others were studiously keeping their gazes directed at the ground. Although the blue sun, Ascetir, did not provide as much light as Camelot was used to, it was still bright enough to see by, and the cold was less biting when it was out. The icicles did not thaw, but after they had broken the ice in the wells, their surfaces did not harden again until the sun disappeared behind the planet around lunch time. For Merlin, it was his familiar schedule resuming once again, though Arthur complained that it got dark again in the middle of the day.

It took longer than expected to prepare everything for the voyage. The first difficulty arose when it came to selecting the knights who would accompany them. Arthur stumbled into unexpected injuries and scheduling problems. In Camelot, there was generally no need for everyone to follow the same rhythm, as there was no difference between nights and days; the knights were the only ones who were sorted into groups and were expected to coordinate their sleeping and waking hours with those who were in the same group. During his stint in the Crystal Cave, it seemed Arthur had got out of synch with everyone in his own group. Or at least that was a serviceable excuse.

"They are afraid," Arthur explained to Merlin. "And I don't blame them."

In the end, they ended up with some of the same complement of people who had accompanied Arthur into the Cave, with the addition of Hunith and Gwen, who insisted on coming.

"I couldn't possibly ask that of you, Gwenhwyfar," Arthur exclaimed but it was of no use, as she would not be dissuaded.

"I couldn’t just sit here, knowing I can do nothing to prevent what's happening," Gwen said. "There at least I can be of some use. And I might see Morgana," she added, trying to make it sound like an afterthought but not succeeding very well, then shrugged, knowing Merlin had seen through her.

"Do not be afraid, Sire," Lancelot spoke with all the earnestness in the world. "I'm going to protect her from harm."

"I can protect myself," Gwen retorted sharply, and it was for the first time that Merlin witnessed her looking anything else but smitten with Lancelot. It was very clear he was not going to win her affections by acting this way.

"Oh, she's not half bad," Elyan agreed with a proud smile on his face, and thus defused the situation before it came to someone's feelings getting hurt.

They packed warm clothes and blankets, and Arthur convinced the kitchens to pack them food enough for several meals. Gaius gave them herbs to be brewed as an infusion against colds and a basket full of bandages and other things which they could use for treating wounds.

"Gaius, why is it that I never noticed that people in Camelot speak another language?" Merlin asked, busying himself with opening a cupboard and keeping his back to Gaius.

A huff came from behind his back. "You cannot think of an explanation on your own?"

"I reckon it has something to do with Balinor and the memories I'm supposed to have inherited from him," Merlin said. He closed the cupboard and crouched to look into the lower half of it.

"You most certainly have them," Gaius said. "But I think this is different. I think it is entirely possible that this was the first language you learnt. Before Balinor gave you to your mother to raise, I think he might have spoken to you in his native language. So when you heard it next, it came to you naturally. Merlin, what are you looking for?" Gaius asked as he finished putting together the medicine basket. Merlin had been running around in his chambers, looking under tables, cupboards, lifting blankets, searching frantically in every obvious and less obvious place. "If it's the underwear you discarded after you slept with Arthur in the sick bed, I burnt it."

This finally got Merlin's attention and he stopped, feeling himself redden as he remembered that night. He also remembered that, while he had indeed spent a couple of very pleasant hours wrapped tightly around Arthur's naked body in order to warm him up, nothing had happened that would have justified the burning of his clothes.

Gaius chuckled. "You are too easy, Merlin," he said. "So, are you going to tell me what you are searching for?"

"Right," Merlin said, his face still burning but he could not stop himself from smiling and he knew Gaius noticed it. "I cannot find Nimueh's book," he said for he remembered there was something with which Gaius could help besides making fun of him.

"Did you look in the bookcases?" Gaius asked, raising his brow.

"You know, my mother always used to tell me if I did that too many times, my face would stay that way." Merlin grimaced.

Gaius's eyebrows slanted even more in response.

"All right, don't say I didn't warn you," Merlin grinned and then, "Yes, I did look in the bookcases. And on the tables, in the sick room, under the tables, on the benches, in your medicine cabinet…" He would have continued on but Gaius lifted a hand to show he could stop.

"Have you looked in Arthur's room?"

Merlin shook his head. "I never took it out of this one."

Gaius pouted, which looked very strange on his face. "Perhaps the Dragon does not want you to have it," he suggested after a while.

"So what, it just disappeared?" Merlin made a face when Gaius just shrugged and did not contradict his conclusion. He never even thought of the possibility that it might have been Gaius who had hidden it, and when it did occur to him, he could no longer ask because they were already halfway to Ealdor.

Then Arthur came and asked about what Merlin thought they were about to face in Ealdor, where they would find the Dragonlord and how they would effect his release.

"He's called Balinor," Merlin said.

"Balinor," Arthur repeated, thoughtful. "Camelot's last Dragonlord was called by the same name."

"That's because it's the same Balinor." Merlin confirmed what Arthur must have already suspected. "I don't know how he came to Ealdor, but he said the Great Dragon had helped him flee." Which was the truth, even if it was not the entire truth. Merlin did not feel bad for leaving Gaius's role out of it. He reckoned Gaius could tell Arthur if he wanted him to know.

They went to dinner where they were told they would find Hunith and, with Merlin translating, Arthur asked her to tell him about how they could find Balinor and whom they might need to fight in order to get to him.

"It's the Dorocha," Hunith said in an undertone, fear making her voice shaking. "The Dorocha came in the dark," she indicated the sky where the sun was still hiding behind the planet. "They broke into the shrine when the lights in the domes went out. They came for Balinor, but they also killed all the volunteers. Some of them were eaten." As she went on explaining, Merlin felt the blood drain from his face.

"What!" Arthur shook Merlin's shoulder urgently. Of course he understood nothing of her words but he saw the change in Merlin's countenance. "What does that mean: Dorocha? What did she say?"

"Dorocha means dead. She says the Dead came when it was dark." Then Merlin had to explain about how life in Ealdor was divided by regular light and dark intervals, which Arthur thought strange and inconvenient. And then Merlin had to translate the last bit of his mother's words and the fragrant rat stew on his plate suddenly looked unappetising. "They kill without mercy and sometimes they eat what they killed."

"You mean they eat people?" Arthur looked horrified and Merlin did not blame him. He could only nod in answer. "What are they? How do you stop them?"

"I don't…" Merlin hesitated. He did not ask his mother for he doubted she knew more about it than Merlin did. "There are tales about them: the old Aboriginals that died together with their Dragon and left Ealdor to us."

"Their Dragon… Ealdor? Ealdor used to be a Dragon?" Elyan asked, amazed. He, alongside Gwen, Lancelot, Percival and Gwaine had been eating at another table but when they noticed their arrival, they picked up their meals and settled on both sides of Merlin and Arthur. Sir Leon arrived a little later and joined them as well. "Dragons die?"

Merlin shrugged; he had no way to truly know. "That's what the tales tell us. But how else do you explain humans living in an isolated rock?"

They could not. Arthur shook his head as this was not what was important right now. "Tell me about these Dead. How come they walk and attack people if they're already dead?"

"They are not really dead," Merlin obediently began to list everything he remembered from the stories he had been told as a child. "Not in the physical sense. Their souls are dead as they cannot exist without a Dragon, and the name we call them, Dorocha, means dead. They were said to only exist on a vegetative level, mostly asleep." Although that seemed the case no longer. "Some of them go wandering the unused corridors where no light can penetrate when they get hungry, and eat anything they can catch because they don't know the difference between animals and people. They don't have a consciousness, only instincts."

"You mean like animals?"

"Less than animals."

Arthur pondered on this, seeming only more bewildered. "Then what do they want?" he asked.

"I don't know." Merlin really could not think of anything that could have driven them out of their hiding places - provided the tales were right about them - besides hunger. He shuddered. And then remembered something else. "The tales say they are waiting."

"Waiting for what?" Arthur wanted to know.

"For another Dragon?" Merlin guessed. The tales did not really say, but it was only logical.

"The Great Dragon?" Gwen exclaimed. Merlin felt eyes turned on them and some of the looks were not exactly friendly. His skin prickled with cold sweat. They probably knew about Uther's accusations by now, he thought. They might even know that Merlin was a Dragonlord, although a useless one. If they decided to attack him, he might not even be able to defend himself with anything other than his fists. Merlin hoped he would never have cause to find out.

Arthur's hand slid over his fingers which were clenched around his spoon, thumb rubbing comforting circles over Merlin's whitening knuckles. Merlin looked up at him, and as he beheld Arthur's calm, strong features, the fear receded as quickly as it came. The people trusted Arthur; he was their Pendragon. Even if Merlin was no longer their favourite person, they would not dare attack him as long as Arthur was protecting him.

Sir Leon coughed. Arthur pulled back his hand, focussing his attention on cleaning his plate, and Merlin suddenly remembered he had been asked a question. The answer was not hard to find. In retrospect, the Dorocha waking up because of the Great Dragon's nearness was a possibility to reckon with. They had an argument about whether or not to forewarn Camelot of the likelihood of an attack. Arthur did not want to cause another panic and Sir Leon was on his side but the others were very vocal that the people deserved to know. Merlin disagreed with Arthur but he had never felt more keenly that he was an outsider. Camelot was not his home; it was not his place to argue, so he stayed out of it.

Instead he turned to his mother and translated what had been said, as she understood nothing of their conversation except for the frequent mention of the word Dorocha.

"They are afraid of light," Hunith said. She stroked Merlin's wrist, as she had always done when he had needed comforting, after Will had told him he was too old now for hugs. (Her fingers could still close around his wrist.) "They only attacked in the dark."

"Of course," Merlin nodded. That's what the stories warned about: the dangers of wandering in dark corridors. "Light could work as a deterrent then. Too bad we don't have any glowtorches." In Camelot, the place of eternal daylight, no one would need such a thing. Not that they could not make glowtorches. There was enough crystal in Camelot, but glowtorches needed to be charged up by putting something heavy on them and that could take much longer than what time they had.

"These Dorocha - are they magic?" Elyan asked.

"I don't know." Magic was absent from Ealdor, since they did not have a Dragon but who knew what the Great Dragon's presence made them capable of? "They might be."

"But can they be killed with mortal weapons?" Elyan inquired further.

"They do bleed, if that's what you're asking," Merlin said, though he did not know for certain, only hoped it was the truth. They must, for they were flesh and blood just like humans. Elyan nodded, looking pleased with the answer.

In the end, they agreed that fires would be the best solution, as they would provide warmth as well. Only Gaius, and Arthur's most loyal knights had been made aware of the additional danger Camelot might be facing. Not even Uther knew, which meant he had to leave some of the knights behind.

"It will be faster to travel as a small group," Arthur argued with Sir Leon, who did not welcome this sudden change of plans.

"And how do you propose to win against the enemy if we're this far outnumbered?"

Arthur shook his head but remained steadfast. "I suspect five more people aren't going to change that. The Dorocha are too elusive and Ealdor's corridors are too narrow for a head-on attack. Stealth and agility will work better. Besides, Elyan said he'd have something for us." But when Sir Leon asked what it was, Arthur could not tell him, only that he suspected it must be some kind of weapon, for Elyan was a blacksmith.

"I'm not staying behind." Sir Leon frowned. Arthur nodded.

"I'm not asking you to."

They were packed and ready to go and the sun chose that moment to rise again over the planet's surface. Merlin, who had been afraid to see Ealdor already submerged into the planet's atmosphere, noted with relief that it was in almost the same spot where he had spotted it during the previous sunrise.

"Perhaps the Great Dragon is already pulling on it," Arthur told him.

"Let's hope not," Merlin said. "That would mean its power is not enough to reverse our course, and then we are making this journey for nothing." Arthur gave him a tight nod and did not try to convince him otherwise, which Merlin appreciated.

They were still waiting for Elyan, who had to make a short trip outside Camelot to the smithy which had belonged his father and now was his when the King arrived at the top of the staircase just outside Camelot. He was alone. When he looked up at the emerging shape of the planet, Merlin saw terror in his eyes, but when he then directed his gaze on Arthur the emotion did not diminish. Instead turned into a different kind of fear.

"Arthur!" Uther called. He did not seem to notice or care that there were others around; his attention was focussed solely on his son. "About Morgana… I…" Uther's jaw and throat worked as though he had to swallow something large lodged in there before he could speak; Merlin guessed it was his pride. "I promise Morgause will live if you can persuade her to come back to Camelot."

Arthur stared at him. "She might not want to come back."

The King had no answer for that.

Elyan returned with a cloth-wrapped bundle under his arm which he presented with a huge grin on his face.

"What is that?" Lancelot asked, apparently curious enough to interrupt his profuse apologies to Gwen. Merlin was glad, for it was a pain to listen to any longer.

"These, my friends, are something that I'm hoping will be of use on our mission."

Elyan unwrapped the bundle. It contained an assortment of knives, six to count, but they were knives unlike the ones used in either Camelot or Ealdor. They were much longer and thicker, and Merlin could not imagine what it was they had been made to cut.

"These are swords," Elyan answered their unvoiced question. "They always fascinated me as a child. When I was just an apprentice, my father allowed me to experiment in my own time, even if he thought my experiments useless. Well, now I might have found some use for them."

Of course, Merlin had heard of swords; they were the weapons of the ancients; but he had never seen one in Ealdor. Camelot had no need for weapons like these either: they were not good for hunting; knives, spears and crossbows served much better. Their only use was against people - or, in this case - against the Dorocha.

They gathered around the swords, inspecting them from closer. Not two of them were alike. They marked the steps on the journey from the emerging talent of an apprentice towards the skill of a true master. The smallest one looked the oldest, a short, heavy piece that was nonetheless solid and sharp. Then came others, all of them differing in length and shape, each one of a better quality and a more elaborate work than its older companions.

Elyan picked up the most intricate sword. It had the longest blade, with beautiful patterns carved into the metal. Merlin expected Elyan to keep it for himself but instead, he presented it to Arthur.

"I'm calling it Excalibur," he said.

Arthur looked bewildered but also awed.

"An interesting design," Lancelot said, brushing the pad of his finger carefully over the intricate engraving of the blade. Merlin did not miss the yearning, proprietary glint of his eye as he regarded the sword, but it was immediately followed by a flash of shame, after which he pulled away his hand and took a step back.

"It came to me in a dream," Elyan answered, looking mightily proud of it. He caressed the hilt, and Merlin noticed that the dark material was inlaid with coloured crystal shards ordered into a geometric pattern, both to provide a better grip on the slippery leather and to ornament it.

"You ought to take it yourself," Arthur protested. "It's your work, after all."

But Elyan shook his head and extended the sword towards Arthur, with his right hand gripping the hilt and the blade sitting on the palm of his left. "I'm not a skilled fighter, Lord. Excalibur should have a master who can wield it properly."

"He does not need fine weapons. His stink alone will scare off any attacker," Gwaine joked, breaking the solemn mood which only seemed to embarrass Arthur. Elyan did indeed smell bad; he was wearing furs against the cold and they must have been newly out of the tanning pit, because they exuded a strong odour.

Arthur stopped protesting then and accepted the gift with reverence written over his features. The remaining swords were distributed between Lancelot, Percival, Gwaine and Elyan. Gwen got the last one as Sir Leon preferred his prong and Arthur would not let Merlin have it - a decision which had Merlin's mother's full support.

"What am I going to do if I'm attacked?" Merlin asked, feeling indignant at such blatant discrimination even if, under other circumstances, he would have been the first to admit that a sword did not fit well in his hands. "How do you expect me to protect myself?"

"That's what I am for," Arthur informed him in a tone which suggested that Merlin only proved himself to be slow of mind even asking the question but then he had not expected anything else from him. That was the end of the discussion, and then they were on their way.

They took a different route than the one on which Merlin had travelled on his way from the tunnel. Apparently, he had walked in a wide circle around Camelot before happening upon Arthur and the unicorn in the forest. Although this road led along a forest as well, so that if they needed wood for a fire, it would be on hand.

Those from Camelot found the constant darkness bewildering and hard to bear. Although the blue sun, and the gigantic planet which reflected back its light almost more radiantly than the star itself, gave enough illumination to see by, it was not enough to lift the darkness entirely, only to create a greyish twilight. The Great Dragon was in the position where Ealdor used to be, so the light and dark periods were approximately of the same duration. But while Ealdor's crystal domes faced outward from the planet and towards the sun, the Great Dragon's plane was tilted, so that the sun never rose above their heads, just circled over the horizon. On the other side of the Dragon, the planet's rings reached above the land like the back of a large lean-to, their ghostly outlines visible even during the night.

After several weeks of getting drenched in water, plants had begun to grow again from the soil, only for the fresh green shoots to be killed by the frost. Blackened nubs sat on naked branches, surrounding them with the sweet smell of rot. The road under their feet was not ideal for travelling. When the sun was out, the cold eased off some, and the moisture in the soil thawed and turned the dirt into mud which sucked their boots and made the trekking ponderous. In the time of darkness, the mud froze again, becoming hard and slippery, though sometimes it was only the top layer that froze, with enough sludge remaining underneath to cause a nasty surprise to those who were not careful. Merlin fell into its trap several times.

The first time it happened, Arthur laughed at him while pulling him out of the icy mud, but soon he did not feel like laughing for he, too landed on his backside several times. The one whose clothes remained dry for the longest was Gwen. In the end, no one came away unscathed, but the worst of it was tiredness and a few bruises, so after eating, they continued on their way towards the tunnel.

During the second light period, water started falling from the sky again, and then, come nightfall, the temperature dropped and the water turned into chilly white fluff which lit up the sky and danced in flurries. Merlin had never seen anything like it before. Next to that wonderful view, he could almost forget the threat that was Ealdor pulling closer and closer to the planet.

They spent that night in a cave which was the entrance of a long unused smithy and the heat rising from deep down made it a good place for sleeping. It was still a little cold, but the tunnel that led into the Dragon's depths was too narrow for camping, and it got hot very quickly just a little lower down. Arthur lamented the fact that there were no such deep tunnels near or inside Camelot, but Elyan laughed and said he would soon come to change his mind about it if he had to live next to one when the weather was normal.

That night, his wet clothes together with the others' laid out to dry in the lower parts of the tunnel, and Merlin, naked and shivering but curled up with Arthur within the protective warmth of his woollen blankets, dreamed. But he knew it was not a dream but a memory.

In this memory, he was not the man he was now but neither was he a child; he was nothing more than an overgrown tadpole swimming around in a pouch full of fluids, sucking nutrients into himself from a teat, his mental development being carefully monitored by thin, flexible feelers. He welcomed the feelers because they were his only source of information for which he had possessed an insatiable curiosity - a quality which, to his mother's grief, he never quite lost and which had got him into trouble countless times. He knew - vaguely, as one in a dream knows certain things - that he had spent twenty-odd revolutions in Balinor's pouch before deciding to grow the body parts that would enable him to live a human life, but that would come later. Right then, he was but a brain with a tentacle; he did not need much more for that life and he did not yet want more. He experienced the world through sensations and emotions filtered down to him from his parent and these experiences were full of wonderful things.

Some of these wonderful things, he recognised, were dreams. These dreams came not from himself and not from Balinor either, but Merlin felt them through their parental connection. They were ripples on the surface of an enormous mind which was only now developing and Merlin - the Merlin who dreamt this, not the Merlin who had been present in this memory - thought they felt very familiar, but he could not tell from where. The emotions he felt through those dreams were often turbulent and chaotic but they were dulled by distance.

There was one time, though, when he felt them from much closer. The time when Balinor left the quiet solitude of his shrine and trekked through dark corridors, hiding in silence when he felt something else approaching from the other direction, then continuing on his way in haste until he reached his destination.

In the deeper reaches of Ealdor, far underneath the colony, there was a vast chamber. If Merlin had had eyes and ears, he might not have seen or heard anything out of the ordinary in there, just rock and darkness and echoes of noises travelling through a cavernous space. But the sensations he received through Balinor were not limited by the constrains of human perception and what he sensed in that chamber was something enormous but not quite material, the light of a consciousness so bright as though it came straight from the sun, and the dreams - they were so much stronger here, Merlin did not know how long he would be able to stand the assault of violent emotions.

Then Balinor stepped even closer and lifted Merlin carefully out of his pouch. He did not use his hands for fear of harming Merlin's vulnerable skin with the bluntness of his fingers. Feelers wrapped around him carefully and brought him right up to the shining presence whose thoughts flowed through Merlin like molten lava, and then he was encouraged to touch it with his own feeler - he only had the one, but he did not think it strange at the time. Merlin was afraid but Balinor's gentle reassurance that he would come to no harm made him brave enough to do so.

And in that moment, everything stilled. His touch sent ripples through the being's mind and they seemed to calm the violent eruptions of thoughts which had previously dominated it. It only lasted a second but in that one second, what Merlin felt in response of his touch was recognition. He had been recognised not only for what he was - a Dragonlord's progeny and thus sharing an innate connection with the being - but also for who he was. Merlin.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Merlin was roused by Arthur shaking his arm.

"What happened?" Merlin asked, staring up at Arthur blearily. He was no longer cold; it was toasty warm inside the blankets and Arthur's body pressed to his own kindled a different kind of heat in his belly. His lips pulled into a coy smile but Arthur remained unaffected by it. His eyes, trained on Merlin, held worry.

"You were thrashing about. Did you have a nightmare?" he asked.

"I dreamt," Merlin said, trying to remember what the dream was about, and when he did, he shuddered.

Not because it had been a nightmare, precisely, but still he felt disturbed by it. For he knew for a fact that it had indeed been a memory and it was a bewildering feeling to suddenly recall being something that now felt utterly foreign to his very being, yet knowing it had been him. If he concentrated now, he could still feel that vast presence, those turbulent dreams - but they were different now, he realised, because they were not just memories. He felt them now, in the present. And it was not hard to guess what they were.

The Dragonlord guards Ealdor's bright future - Merlin had heard it all his life. Did that mean that the Dragon of Ealdor was not dead after all? It might have been just sleeping. If that was true, perhaps it was waking now and that was what had awoken the Dorocha as well. Perhaps that was the reason they had taken Balinor, although what exactly they needed him for Merlin could not have guessed.

It was just a feeling he had, but he had to tell Arthur about it. "I think I know where they brought the Dragonlord," he said.

Arthur blinked, taken aback by what must have been a sudden change of topic to him. "Can you lead us there?" he asked a few heartbeats later.

Merlin shrugged. He thought he could but he was not entirely certain of it. Arthur must have seen it in his expression for he did not ask again, just accepted the promise Merlin left unspoken: that he would try his best.

"We have to go soon, don't we?" Merlin asked. But Arthur just lay back down and tugged the blankets around them more snugly.

"Everyone else is still asleep," he whispered, closing his eyes and shifting closer to Merlin. "You can sleep some more, too."

Indeed, no one else moved. The silence around them was complete and darkness still shrouded the land. Merlin felt Arthur's body brush against his own while he wiggled into a more comfortable position, and the forgotten fire in his belly lit up with renewed force.

"I have a better idea," Merlin whispered shakily into Arthur's ear before he bit down boldly on the fleshy rim to hide his uncertainty. "If you can stay quiet, that is."

Arthur's body went rigid within Merlin's embrace and his eyes widened with surprise. Then he smiled and let out a slow, shaky breath. "I can," he rasped, his voice rough with what Merlin hoped was awakening desire.

They fit together like this, face to face, front to front. The bare rock under their blanket was uncomfortable, and they dared not make too much noise so they barely moved, but it could not have felt better if they had all the comfort in the world. The only thing that mattered was that it was Arthur touching him and allowing Merlin to touch him in turn, his fingers trailing fire over his skin and his breath filling Merlin's insides with liquid heat.

It was over too quickly. Both of them were impatient, too greedy to bother with finesse, to make it last. But while it did last, it felt like the greatest thing in the whole world, and afterwards, Arthur looked at him with such wonder in his eyes that Merlin could not help but smile back at him. As he fell asleep, the memory of that emotion kept him warm against the night's chill.

Soon it was day, however, and everyone was up, even though Ealdorian nights were too short to get fully rested during the time that passed from sunset to sunrise. But everyone was restless and aware of the fact that time was of essence. After he had risen, Merlin saw, embarrassed, that his mother had lain just a few paces from them. He hoped they had not woken her; she had always been a light sleeper.

They had a quick breakfast. Gwaine and Percival started play-fighting with their new swords while the rest of them finished getting ready for the last leg of their journey. It was obvious that they had no soldier's training; Percival wielded the blade like a bludgeon - though with the force he put into his blows, they were still very effective - while Gwaine held his sword as though it were a butcher's cleaver. Elyan tried to show them a few moves, correcting their stance, but when it came to show how it was done in practice, Elyan proved not much better at it either. Arthur went a few rounds against Sir Leon's prong, and it seemed either his knight's training paid off or he had a natural talent for sword fighting, because he quickly got the hang of it.

"We ought to go," Merlin said, getting impatient of waiting when the packing had already been done and all he had to do was watch the sun glide along its heavenly path over the horizon.

Arthur had just finished pushing Sir Leon into the mud for the third time, putting the tip of his sword under his chin as an afterthought, but now he looked up at Merlin and smirked with all the cockiness in the world. "You don't like watching swordplay, Merlin? Or is it that you can't wield a sword?"

"I can wield any sword you put in my hand," Merlin retorted, feeling annoyed, but Arthur's only reaction to it was to get a contemplative look on his face, his eyes slipping downwards almost absent-mindedly until they reached Merlin's midsection. There they remained fixed for a few heartbeats until Sir Leon cleared his throat and made Arthur jump and look away with cheeks tinted pink. Merlin bent down for his back pack, using it as an excuse to conceal the hot blush on his face. He knew others did not miss the interaction from the way Gwaine nudged Elyan in the ribs and winked at him. Thankfully, his mother pretended not to have noticed anything, although she had this mirthful glint in her eye which betrayed her.

After this, Arthur did not want to linger there and gave orders to leave. Hunith had a good sense of direction. Now that it was day again, she recognised the landscape as a place she had passed during her journey to Camelot. She had assured Arthur that they would reach the tunnel the latest by nightfall and the coming darkness proved her right, for indeed the tunnel was only a hundred paces from them when they spotted its black shape, well-hidden within the dark wall of rock which extended to the horizon in both directions. Had it been left to Merlin to guide them there, they would likely still be wandering around aimlessly along its rocky expanse for another day at least.

She also had more forethought than Merlin because she led them not to the tunnel entrance but to a large rock which lay a short way from it, and asked Percival to shift it. Percival set his shoulder to it and pushed, and from underneath the large rock, Hunith pulled a glowtorch, by now fully charged. Its faint light could not compete with the twin glow of sun and planet but it would be invaluable later, to help navigating their path through the dark and narrow passageway where a torch made of wood would be unsafe and would burn itself out too quickly.

"I found another one," Merlin heard Lancelot's voice. He stood on the other side of the tunnel, holding another glowtorch in his hands, only this one no longer gleamed.

"Too bad it's no longer working." Merlin thought it must have been the one he had lost upon arriving. At the time, he had been too relieved to be out of the tunnel and had not even thought of looking for it. He still took it from Lancelot. If worst came to worst, he could use it to club the enemy in the head; the fist-sized piece of crystal at its end was heavy and hard enough to brain someone.

And then it was into the tunnel, and Merlin still had not warned them of what they should expect, once they were a little way away from the entrance. Although he suspected Gwen knew, for he spotted her talking with his mother in that pidgin language that they made up between themselves: half-Camelotian, half-Ealdorian - apparently the two were very similar. What they could not express with either language, they told with hand signals and facial expressions. On one hand, their conversations were entertaining to watch. On the other, Merlin was amazed how quickly they found a way to make themselves understood by the other.

In that moment, no one was talking. The moment was wrought with anticipation, and Merlin made the mistake of looking up, needing one last glimpse of the small, dark rock teetering on the edge of the horizon, on which he had trained his eyes all though their journey. And suddenly Merlin could not bear to waste more precious seconds, yet he could not tear away his gaze from the sight of Ealdor wading through the last reaches of the thin belts of rock and ice circling the planet, just shy of emerging on the other side of the rings to then continue its descent through the emptiness of space, into the highest reaches of the thick, soupy atmosphere, hurtling towards its inevitable doom.

He reached out and grabbed Arthur's arm to stay him when he would have ducked through the tunnel's entrance.

part 7