rabbit hearted boy, part seven
Part Six
Part Seven
All of Camelot was in uproar. For many years now, the people had only known a simple life, and although there had been problems, they had weathered through them all eventually. The lack of water was a more unusual one than they typically faced, but there were ways of surviving it and it was felt to be something they would manage.
A dragon terrorising the town was an entirely different matter.
No one was certain exactly what time the dragon had arrived, but it was quite late into the night with most people already asleep. The knights on duty spotted it first, but thought it was simply a large bird from a distance, until the dragon grew closer and closer, increasing in size…and then opened its mouth and breathed fire onto the roof of the castle.
The men were assembled as soon as possible and they began to fight the dragon off as best they could, but their efforts were in vain.
“Perhaps we should leave the castle?” Gorlois suggested, as they gathered in the great hall, a mass of bodies shuddering against the fear from outside while a few wounded lay on beds being attended to.
Uther shook his head stubbornly. “Never.”
“Gorlois is right!” Ygraine tried to reason with her husband. “The dragon appears intent on attacking the castle, not the rest of the town. Perhaps it would be safer if we started trying to get people out.”
The king disagreed. “How would we get them out when he is attacking all corners of the castle?”
“Some of the servants’ entrances lead out the back…or perhaps through the stables,” Gorlois wondered.
“He can fly right round in a second! They would never make it,” Uther pointed out.
“He has to retreat some time. At least we should try moving the wounded,” Ygraine entreated.
Uther clucked his tongue and looked around. The room was full of able people mostly, but in the few hours they had been gathered more and more wounded, mainly knights but some servants and commoners too, were starting to be brought in. He still believed the best they could do was stand fast and hope the morning light brought some solutions with it, but he could not hold out when his wife used that tone. “What does Gaius say about their condition?”
Ygraine walked over to where Gaius tended to one of the patients to find out. “Gaius, how are the people doing?”
“Not too terribly, my lady. We have been lucky so far; none of our wounded have been too badly burnt or scratched. But I fear their injuries will start to get worse. The last knight I tended said the dragon has been moving closer and closer, and our luck may not hold fast.”
“We have been wondering if perhaps we should get some of the people out of the castle.”
“Hmmm,” Gaius pondered, as he continued to dab an ointment on the chest of a servant, the man nearly faint from shock rather than pain. “Moving would seem the best choice of action, but perhaps not for a few days.”
“Days?” Ygraine exclaimed.
“The dragon is too alert; it will be too easy for him to go after anyone who tries to leave and then their injury will be worse than if they remain in the castle; possibly even death. If he continues to attack us with such speed in maybe two days, possibly even less, he will grow tired and have to retreat even if only briefly.”
“But how will we hold out for so long?”
“That, my lady, I cannot say.”
At that moment a girl came up to the pair, clearly searching for Gaius, and bowed when she saw the queen. Ygraine recognised her as the serving girl who she had hired not long ago, although her appearance was quite different now, face covered in sweat and apron smeared with flecks of blood.
“Yes, Gwen?” Gaius asked.
“I have administered the salve to Sir Owain and prescribed him the half hour’s rest you ordered, but he insists on going out to fight.”
Gaius shook his head. “Very well. But tell him that when he comes back with a bleeding wound he is not to complain when we have to give him stitches.” Gwen nodded and was about to leave when, Gaius added, “Oh and I saw Sir Pellinore being brought in, has he been looked at -”
“He has some burns on his arm and back; Marie and the Lady Morgana are seeing to him.”
“Thank you. If you would remember to check on Sir Geraint?”
“I have had another look at his hand, and redone the bandage.”
“Thank you, Gwen.”
After she had gone, Gaius began putting the bandage strips into place on his patient, and noticed the queen looking curiously after Gwen, who was now by Morgana’s side, speaking quietly with her as they looked after a patient together.
“I think she may make a fine physician’s assistant one day.”
“Indeed. I hope Merlin is not jealous.”
Gaius gave a short laugh. “He tried to help, but I am afraid he will never be very good with medicine. I told him to go keep Arthur company; he looked quite downcast.”
“Yes,” Ygraine began, reflecting on her son’s recent mood. Although he had taken up longer baths, lack of a large enough tub meant he had not been able to swim for three days now, and Ygraine expected the complacent, light-heartedness she had seen from him during the many years he had not. And, at times, she had. But at others he seemed completely the opposite; sad, worried, tired and she could not understand it any more than she could think of a solution. She had started to wonder if perhaps the loss of his beloved pool might drive him to the tears they had once thought would break his enchantment, but she had not confessed this thought to anyone else yet.
However, now, as she looked around the room, a more pressing one came to mind.
“Where is Arthur?”
*
“I still don’t really think we should be doing this,” Merlin mumbled nervously.
“You always used to say that when we tried to sneak out of the castle and nothing that bad ever really happened.”
“That was different! The worst that could happen to me then was that Gaius would give me extra chores. We’re dealing with a dragon here!”
“I know that. Shame you can’t, you know, just use your magical powers and defeat him. Although I suppose you making a cloud with a dragon shape would be just as helpful as if you could speak to him in…Dragonese and ask him to leave nicely.”
“There’s no such thing as Dragonese, idiot, dragons speak just the same way we do.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, Arthur. Really. And short of you going up to him and asking him nicely to leave us all alone, I don’t see what you plan on doing.”
“I was about to raise the same point.”
The two boys looked over their shoulders and saw Sir Leon standing behind them, with his arms crossed wearing the closest thing to a severe expression he was able to muster.
“Imagine my surprise when I came back into the great hall and your mother’s handmaiden pulled me aside to say that the queen and king were looking for you, and, by association, me.”
“Right. Sorry about that, Leon.”
“You can pretend to apologise later, sire, now we have to go back downstairs.”
“Not now -”
“Yes, now! And don’t try to make excuses or play tricks on me,” he added, holding his hand up when Arthur looked like he was about to interrupt, “I have already fallen for one of them this evening and made myself look a fool when you suggested I pop my head out to see how the knights were faring, I will not be doing so again.”
“Leon, I was not trying to make you look a fool -”
“It is of no matter, my lord -”
“I just knew you would go outside then because I know you want to be out there with the other knights fighting the dragon. Just as I wish to be out there too!”
Leon softened, but would not relent. “I’m afraid that is not an option, my lord. Not for either of us.”
“Yes it is!” Arthur insisted. “I may…float, but I am still the Prince of Camelot, which means I can give orders just like my father, and if I order you to go out and fight then, Leon, you will. And if I want to go out and fight then neither of you have the right to stop me!”
Merlin stared at Arthur in shock. Leon was slightly taken a back by Arthur’s determination; the prince’s resolve, dare he think it, almost kingly, but he had to interject. “Sire…your father…”
Arthur sighed and looked at him pleadingly. “Leon, what did you teach me how to work a sword for if you did not intend for me to use those skills now; when Camelot needs help most?”
Leon paused a moment longer, but found himself giving in. “What is your plan?”
“To get behind the dragon’s head.”
“Behind it?” Leon repeated Arthur’s statement.
“The only way to kill a dragon is to strike it deep in the neck or remove the head entirely.”
“Yes, I am aware of that. But how do you know how to kill a dragon?”
Arthur titled his head at Merlin who looked down at Leon’s quick gaze.
He shrugged and said in what he hoped was a nonchalant manner, “It was in some books I read.”
“The knights are all down there; trying to reach his jugular,” Arthur explained, turning back round and continuing the way they had been going, “but from up here perhaps we will be able to hit him from behind the head when he is distracted by the knights and defeat him.”
“That is…not a terrible plan. But why are we going this way? Don’t we need to go higher up the castle before we go across it?”
“We need to get a sword to strike him with.”
“Is that the only reason?”
“Yes. Why?”
“Well…” When Arthur looked back over his shoulder Leon gestured to his sword that hung from his belt.
“Oh. The roof it is then.”
But once they were on the roof, moving very quietly while crouching down low, it was clear that this plan would not do either.
“He is smart,” Leon observed of the dragon in low tones after watching him swoop on his friends down below a few times, and hoping they were all still faring well. “He does not stay in one position for long.”
“But that may bring him close enough to us that we can get a sure shot,” Arthur conjectured.
“True, but I doubt that he would do so without noticing us at the same time. His flight is a great advantage.”
“Well, I guess it’s good we have that advantage too,” Merlin stated. When Arthur and Leon looked to their right at Merlin, he corrected himself. “Well, we don’t, but you do,” he finished looking pointedly at Arthur.
Arthur’s eyes widened as he looked at Merlin. “You’re not serious?”
“Why not? It’d probably help.”
Arthur looked over at Leon who agreed. “It is a little windy this evening, sire,” he pointed out; his hand on Arthur’s shoulder was probably what was keeping Arthur on the ground, rather than hovering above it.
Arthur groaned. “But that would be humiliating! To save Camelot by floating!”
“To save Camelot, sire,” Leon repeated solemnly.
Arthur sighed. “But how are we going to stop me from flying away?” he asked, a little embarrassed by the need.
“I can help there too. I still carry this.” Leon used his free hand to reveal a big coil of string he’d kept tucked into his belt.
“Excellent!” Merlin said excitedly.
Arthur wished he was as enthused. Everything that had seemed clear when he’d been sitting there in the great hall, practically itching to get out, was starting to get murky. He’d spent much of the previous day laying in the bath, but just lying there had not been the same as when he swam. His head felt clear, but not clear enough, and he felt sleepy, unaccustomed to being awake at this time. And he really, really, did not want to have that stupid string tied around his arm again.
But Leon was right. It was to save Camelot.
“Get it over with then,” he said, holding his arm out, while Leon instructed Merlin to keep hold of Arthur while he tied the string around his arm.
“Now, you hold the sword like this.”
“I know -”
“And if you angle it thus -”
“I know! I remember, Leon.”
“I confess, I’m a little surprised you do, my lord.”
“Me too.”
“Now, I can make sure you don’t get blown away but I won’t be able to control the direction of the movement well; you’re going to have to try that yourself.” When Arthur nodded, Leon continued, “If you can see you have a good shot at him, take it.”
“Alright.”
Leon and Arthur stood for a moment preparing, before Arthur turned to look at Merlin.
“You have to let go of me, first, Merlin.”
“Oh, right! Sorry!” As soon as he let go of his hold of Arthur, the prince rose in the direction of the wind carrying him forward as well as higher. Leon tried to steady the rope so that Arthur wouldn’t go too high, and too far above the dragon, but as the wind grew stronger it was hard to control the movements.
Arthur finally found himself atop the dragon’s head. He could see he would have a better chance of thrusting the sword into his neck if he were lower down but the dragon’s ears were just underneath him and he would probably hear if Arthur called out to Leon. He didn’t want to risk alerting the dragon to his presence by just turning round to look at them either. Sword clutched tightly in hand, he did what first came to his mind and grabbed on to the tip of the dragon’s ear, the only part of him within reach.
The dragon’s head jolted back instantly, but Arthur managed to lower himself down and plunge the sword into the back of his neck. The dragon suddenly went stiff before jerking wildly; the action causing his wing to tear into the string that kept Arthur from being carried off. He did not see the tear, but he felt it, the loss of pressure on his arm, and soon gripped onto the dragon so that he would not fly away.
Arthur worried from the way the dragon was moving he might possibly explode - Merlin had not mentioned the manner in which dragons died - but he found the dragon did nothing other than fall to the ground with a great amount of force and speed, although its body protected Arthur from the impact.
Still clutching on to the dragon - for despite being lower down and not atop a moving body, the wind was great enough to pose a threat to Arthur’s stability - Arthur raised his face from the scaly back and saw a small bunch of slightly haggard knights staring at him in shock.
“Sire?”
Arthur did not know what to say in response. He eventually managed, “Hello,” with a smile, but that only made them more confused.
“Arthur!”
He turned his head and saw the bearer of the voice on his other side, running down the castle steps and up to him. “Gorlois!” he called back. “Is everyone alright?”
“Yes. Although your parents have been going mad with worry for you. - Of course,” he said grimly, as he helped Arthur stand, “I don’t know what Uther will say when I tell him that his son was busy riding a dragon.”
*
Uther did not say anything at first. When the events were explained to him; from the viewpoints of the knights, Gorlois, Merlin and Arthur, he was initially rendered completely speechless - from joy.
His son had finally done something that Camelot could be proud of! And in spite of his curse! (Arthur did try to point out that he probably wouldn’t have been able to slay the dragon in the first place if not for the curse, but Uther was not having any of that.)
When the sun rose not all that long later, the knights struggled to get rid of the dragon’s carcass, while the rest of Camelot began patching both themselves and the couple of damaged buildings up. The day was spent mourning the lives lost, few as they were, and trying to see how they could return to normal, when they still lacked water.
However, a few days later Uther called for a celebration. His son would be honoured for the service he’d done Camelot, and the commemoration took place in the streets. This was done mainly out of necessity, as the castle was still too damaged for a true feast to take place, but Ygraine felt, and Uther happily agreed, that it was the best idea. This meant the people could freely join in, and it was they who needed the lift to the spirits a celebration provided most, particularly when it was they who still felt most keenly the long journey that had to be made for water.
This way the most people could join in the whole event…all, except one; sat quietly in a corner, watching the celebrations taking place only through the window.
“My lord?”
“Guinevere.” Arthur smiled at her. “Why are you not outside enjoying the celebrations?”
“Lady Morgana is feeling a little chilly, I am fetching her shawl. What is your excuse?”
“The wind is a little high today.”
“But the celebrations are for you,” she replied, but Arthur shook his head.
“They are in my name, but they are for everyone.”
“But you cannot be restricted to only remain here,” Gwen insisted, “I saw you outside earlier.”
“I was,” Arthur owned, “but my father only permitted me to be so as long as Sir Leon was able to watch me. His mother grew tired and he wished to see her home, so I am to wait in here until he returns.”
“Is there not anyone else who could vouch for you?”
“My parents are required to entertain all the nobles, so my father does not trust that they will be able to always make sure of my safety,” he explained. “Merlin offered to keep an eye on me, but my father stopped trusting him when I was eight and alone with him and got stuck in a thankfully unlit fireplace.”
Gwen laughed, then clapped her hand over her mouth as if she felt she shouldn’t. “How dreadful.”
“It was probably more my fault than Merlin’s…and he was only six anyway, but since then Merlin has not been deemed suitable enough protection for me. So, I am here.”
“How lonely.”
He smiled a little wider. “It is not at present.” She flushed slightly, and he wondered why it gratified him so much that she did so. He also noticed that she looked at him oddly. “What?”
“What?” she repeated.
“You look like you…were going to say something. I don’t know.”
“I wasn’t, I just…You seem different recently.”
“In what way?”
“I don’t…I suppose I expected you to be more like you were before because you can’t swim anymore, but you’re not…”
“Is that a bad thing?”
“No. Not a bad thing. Just…unexpected,” she confessed. “Well, I need to go get Lady Morgana’s shawl.”
“Of course,” he said with a nod and watched her walk off in front of him. “Will you be coming back this way?”
“Coming back?” she asked, over her shoulder.
“Yes. On your way back out?”
“Uh,” she started, flushing again, “I imagine so.”
“Alright. Well, I shall see you then.”
“See you then,” she repeated, smiling despite her confusion.
Arthur smiled as he watched her retreating form disappear into the corridor. He returned to looking out the window, and watching the sky until someone called out to him.
“Arthur!”
“Morgana!”
“Have you seen a girl come past here recently?” she wondered, walking quickly up to him.
“What girl?” he asked, moving so he was no longer leaning against the wall.
“A servant, she’s one my handmaidens -”
“Do you mean Guinevere?”
Morgana stared at Arthur surprised, but was glad he knew of whom she referred. “Gwen, yes. Did you see her?”
“Yes, she walked past me. Said she was going to get something for you.”
“Right, when was that?”
“I…I don’t really know. I lost track of time. It wasn’t that long after I came here though. Did you see Leon leave with his mother? He brought me here just after that.”
“Yes I did - but that was half an hour ago,” Morgana stated, before picking up her pace and walking ahead.
“Where are you going?”
“It doesn’t take half an hour to fetch a shawl.”
“You can’t be that cold, Morgana.”
“Not cold, Arthur, concerned. Something may have happened.”
“That’s not likely is it?”
“Well, there’s no one in the castle to find out if it did, everyone’s out celebrating!”
Arthur ran after her as they made their way up to Morgana’s chambers.
“There’s no one here,” he stated.
“Arthur, look!” Morgana pointed at the floor where a shawl lay sprawled on the ground, and on top of it where some items from her dresser. “It wasn’t like this when I left. - Are you sure you did not see Gwen come back down?”
“Yes, I am sure.”
“Do you think…Perhaps she was surprised by something, and left in a hurry?” Morgana wondered. “And went a different way?”
Arthur doubted it, but tried not to let his worry show as he followed Morgana back out the room and through the way they thought she would have gone, out into the courtyard.
“I still cannot see her.”
“Neither can I,” Arthur noted, holding tightly to the stone pillar by him.
“There are so many people, though. There must be an explanation, mustn’t there?” Arthur struggled to answer, but then Morgana burst out, “Oh, look there is Merlin!”
No sooner was he opposite them, Morgana asked, “Merlin, have you seen Gwen?”
“Yeah -”
“When?”
“Now?”
“How long ago?”
“I don’t know,” he responded, his memory made less sure by their apparent agitation. “Ten minutes ago? Maybe longer, actually.”
“Where was she?” Arthur asked.
“She was walking out into the town.”
“By herself?”
“No, actually, she was with someone,” he recalled. “But I don’t know who.”
“You didn’t recognise them?” Morgana asked.
“No, I couldn’t see their face. The hood of their cloak was pulled up.”
“And you didn’t find that odd? It’s not exactly cold enough to be wearing a cloak,” she exclaimed.
“And why would Gwen just leave the celebrations like that when she’s meant to be working?” Arthur pointed out.
“Well, I did find it a little strange, but she was too far away for me to shout to her. I could only tell it was her by her dress. - And I just assumed it was maybe her cousin.”
“Why would you assume that?” Arthur wondered.
“Because she lives with her cousin,” Merlin stated obviously. “I just thought she was probably going to do something with her, and then come back. Why - what’s the matter?”
“I don’t know, it just feels like…something’s wrong,” Morgana said worriedly.
The three all looked around them at the throng of people they were surrounded by, uncertain of what they were searching for.
They were soon greeted by a relieved face. “Prince Arthur! There you are.”
“Marie,” he greeted his mother’s handmaiden. “Were you looking for me?”
“Your mother asked me to fetch you. She said you were waiting for Sir Leon inside but we could not find you there. She is starting to worry, but you are safe.”
“What does my mother need me for?”
A strange look crossed Marie’s features but she hid it quickly. “I do not know.”
“Yes, you do,” Arthur returned sharply.
“I believe she simply wished to see you.”
“That’s not all,” Morgana stated plainly, observing Marie closely, and she blanched at the close gaze of all three.
“I don’t know any more,” she insisted.
“You must tell us if you do, we think something may be wrong,” Morgana pointed out.
“We’re worried about Gwen,” Merlin admitted.
“Gwen?” Marie looked at Merlin with concern, but then shook her head. “Oh, but she could not have anything to do with this.”
“To do with what?” Morgana demanded.
Marie found it was not the glares of the two nobles, whom she would have to obey, that caused her undoing, but the imploring, sweet face of the third boy she often likened to the son she wished she had had (although she was a little too young to have had a child as old as he, if she’d been in a position to have any).
“I do not wish to alarm you,” she said quietly, glancing furtively at the people around them, “but there has been a sighting.”
“Of whom?” Morgana demanded impatiently.
“Nimueh. The witch who cursed you,” she added to Arthur, although the explanation was unnecessary. He had not heard that name in many years and at the time it had been nothing more than a funny word, but the memory had taken root and now he felt its true meaning.
“She’s here?” Merlin gasped.
“We are not sure. The alchemist thought he saw her when he was fetching water earlier in the day, but we have only just received report of it now. But to be safe, the king and queen wished to make sure of your location, sire. So if you will come with me we can reassure them, my lord.”
“I’m afraid you’ll have to reassure them for me.”
Arthur bolted, breaking through the crowd in the courtyard and running out into the town.
“Sire! My lady!” Marie added, when Morgana took off after him.
“Don’t worry, Marie, we’ll bring him back.”
Marie stared as Merlin gave her elbow a light squeeze and then took off on a run himself. Merlin whom she knew best of the three; Merlin whom she trusted, and was certain would do his best to bring the prince home safe. - But only after they had done whatever it was they intended to.
Shaking her head, Marie picked up her skirts and ran after them herself.
As he raced forward, Arthur heard Morgana yelling to him. “Arthur where are you going?”
“I don’t know!”
“Then what are you doing?”
“I’m not sure! But something’s happened to Gwen!”
“But Marie’s right! What would she want with Gwen?”
“I don’t know!” he repeated. “I just know this Morgana!”
“But, Arthur, it doesn’t make any sense!”
“I can float in air! That doesn’t make sense either!”
“Arthur, just stop for a second and think about this!”
When Arthur didn’t comply, Morgana glanced back over her shoulder and saw Merlin running after her, already starting to huff with fatigue.
She looked forward just in time to see Arthur run into a horse turning into their path.
“Whoa!”
“AH!”
Neigh!
“Prince Arthur!” The man on the cart the horse was pulling quickly jumped out of his seat once the horse had been steadied.
“Leon!” Arthur took a deep breath as he put his hand on the man’s shoulder. “I am glad to see you.”
“What is going on?” he wondered, growing more confused at the sight of the two more people running up to them in the form of Merlin and the Lady Morgana (or possibly it was three; he could see another shape moving forward behind Merlin, but it was too blurry to make out).
“We think Nimueh is back.”
Leon’s hand immediately went to his sword. “Where? When? - How? Does the king know?”
“I don’t know. - Well, yes, my father does know, but as for the rest…” Arthur threw his hands about. “We think she might have gone somewhere that way,” he pointed out.
“Well, we have to get you inside, to safety.”
“No, Leon.”
“Sire, -”
“I think Guinevere is in danger.”
This made Leon hesitate. “Are you sure?”
“Well…no,” Arthur admitted. “It may actually be nothing, but Leon, I…I need to make certain.”
Leon sighed. He could tell he was going to regret this decision, but he found he made it anyway. “Very well. Get in the cart, sire.”
“Thank you, Leon.”
“No need to thank me, yet. You may need to speak for me when your father decides to throw me into the stocks.” Leon helped Arthur get into the back of the cart. He was about to take his place in the front seat when two people bumbled up to the cart.
“I am coming with you!” Morgana exclaimed loudly.
“Me too!” Merlin wheezed, his body slumping against the wood.
“I don’t think that is the best idea, my lady,” Sir Leon insisted, even as he helped Merlin climb into the cart.
“I am coming,” Morgana stated, and then climbed into the front bench, and took the horses’ reins in her hand, clearly intending to direct the animal.
“My lady! You cannot sit there!”
“I always sit in front.”
“Let’s stop wasting time!”
At Arthur’s insistence Leon realised it was time for him to take a seat somewhere on the cart or be left behind. He could not let the prince leave without him, and as it seemed too improper to sit up next to a woman who was neither married nor related to him, Leon jumped into the back of the cart.
“I hope this thing can take all this weight!” Morgana stated as she pulled on the reins and started to direct the horse so that it turned around.
“It is made to carry many heavy sacks of grain; I’m sure it can carry four people, my lady,” Sir Leon informed her.
“Yes, just not particularly quickly,” she remarked, trying to make the horse increase his speed.
The men said nothing as they now saw another woman come to a halt slightly in front of them, just in time to see the cart moving off. She laid her eyes on the knight sitting in the cart and gaped.
“Sir Leon!”
He stared back at the queen’s handmaiden and felt a little ashamed.
“Don’t worry Marie!” Merlin yelled out. “We’ll be fine!”
Leon wished he could be as sure of that.
As they moved he tried to keep an eye out for anyone looking suspicious. He had the disadvantage of not actually knowing what Nimueh looked like other than being, apparently, a beautiful woman, but as most people were still enjoying the celebrations he felt it would be easy to spot someone who was out of place. It turned out, it was easier to find her than he would have liked.
Before long they had got through the towns and started on the path into the forest.
“Maybe we should turn back,” Merlin wondered.
“No,” Arthur said immediately.
“It would probably help if we knew where we were - Ack!” Morgana yelled suddenly as the wheel of the cart ran into a pothole, and the cart jerked to a stop.
Leon sprang out of the cart to adjust the wheel, but saw a figure move behind the trees.
He pulled his sword from his sheath and took a defensive stance immediately. “Who’s there?”
“What is it, Sir Leon?” Merlin asked quietly, but Leon shushed him.
“I know you are there,” he said evenly, moving back up the path to approach the tree in question, while the others slowly made their way off the cart and towards him. “Show yourself!”
A laugh sounded, before a hooded figure emerged. They walked down the slope and onto the dirt path before pulling the hood of their cloak back, revealing a fair face and long brunette waves.
Leon swallowed. “You must be Nimueh.”
She smiled. “I must. But I know who all of you are, Sir Leon. Merlin. Lady Morgana. Prince Arthur,” she looked at each of them as she spoke their names, her eyes finally resting on Arthur.
“How do you know us?” Morgana wondered.
“I have watched the castle for some time; every year since you were born,” she added to Arthur. “This year I have come a little early.”
“What do you want?” he demanded stiffly.
“Justice. Your father made me and mine suffer by forcing us into an exile we could only leave in secret, so I made him suffer by cursing his son to a life of flight.”
“You got rid of the water,” Arthur realised.
“Yes. And I would have left it at that too. But then you murdered Kilgharrah,” she said venomously.
“The dragon,” Merlin whispered his realisation aloud, but Arthur did not need it; there was only one thing he had ever killed.
“You must pay for that, Arthur Pendragon.”
“You’re going to kill me?” he wondered aloud, just as Leon thought the same thing and moved across to stand with the prince.
But Nimueh only cackled. “What good would that be? You wouldn’t suffer nearly enough. You took away someone I cared about, now I have taken away someone you care about.”
“That’s not justice, that’s vengeance,” Morgana cried.
“You know I had thought to take your mother,” Nimueh continued, as if Morgana hadn’t spoken, “but you looked at the girl so sweetly; and, of course, it made things far easier. People might have noticed the queen leaving with a stranger, but not a servant. - Although, really, what would your father say?”
“What have you done with her?”
“Nothing. It is only an enchantment; it will draw her to the thing that you love most,” she said secretively.
“What? The…” Arthur stopped, suddenly realising just where they were. He turned to Leon. “I know where she is!”
“Then go!” Leon filled the space Arthur left as he ran off behind them. “I will not let you follow him,” he said to Nimueh.
“What makes you think I will try? I would not have told him so much if I had not wanted him to figure it out.”
“Why?” Morgana exclaimed.
“It is less fulfilling if he does not get to see her die. You three, however, I care far less about.”
Leon swiftly moved to stand in front of Merlin and Morgana, his sword at the ready. “Go with him!”
“What about you?” Merlin asked.
Leon shook his head. “Get yourselves to safety.”
“We cannot just leave you!”
“How brave,” Nimueh commented. “But before you start arguing over which of you is going to sacrifice yourselves I should tell you that I shall be going now.”
“Going?” Morgana repeated. “You’re not going to kill us?”
“What purpose would that serve me? What a dreadful waste of time.” She shook her head. “No, my work here is done.”
“No, you cannot leave!” Leon ordered.
“I cannot?” she repeated, amused.
“You are under arrest,” he said plainly. “For enchanting the prince, for taking away the water in the town and…for whatever it is you have done to Guinevere. I am taking you in.” He stepped forward when he was finished and Nimueh grew stern.
“I would advise you not to continue on those lines, Sir Leon, or you would leave me with no choice,” she warned, her hand rising.
He gulped, knowing her powers were far greater than any of his abilities, but he stayed firm. “It is my duty. I am taking you in to the king.”
“If that is your decision.”
As Sir Leon approached, Nimueh raised her arm so it ran parallel to the ground, and they could all see a white light beginning to form in front of her palm. He had never fought a magical opponent before, and didn’t know what would be his best plan of attack, but quickly decided to try to avoid her blow, and then make her hands secure so she could not cast a spell on him. With a firm grip on his sword, Leon ducked as the light started to grow - and then disappeared, into a cloud of blue smoke.
In fact, everything was covered in the dark clouds; Leon couldn’t see anything other than the smoke that was starting to go up his nostrils.
“What is -” a female voice exclaimed, before breaking out into coughs as did the three others.
Amidst the heavy coughing Leon heard someone mumble something in front of him; felt a slight swoosh in the air and saw a puff of lighter colour smoke pop before his eyes.
“Merlin? Lady Morgana?”
“We’re here,” the latter answered, waving her hands through the smoke as it slowly started to dissipate. “Are you alright?”
“Yes. I think Nimueh has gone.”
The blue slowly evaporated into the air, and it was revealed that only three people remained on the dirt path.
“What happened then?” Leon inquired.
Morgana looked pointedly at Merlin who shrugged. “I don’t really know. I just saw what she was going to do and I knew I had to do something, and then…” he held his hands up.
“You made a big cloud of blue smoke,” Leon finished.
“It’s one of the few things I can do. Besides, it distracted her from you, didn’t it? Even if it means she got away.”
Morgana laughed. “Remind me never to say you can’t really do magic, Merlin.” After his responding smile, she wondered, “Where do you think Nimueh went?”
“Probably back to wherever she’s been hiding,” Leon presumed.
“But…what about Arthur and Gwen?”
*
Arthur raced through the forest as fast as his legs would take him. As he ran, he could feel the air whipping around him, each step threatening to take him too high, but he didn’t stop. His hands reached out in front every so often to anchor himself against a tree but only for a moment before he was running again.
His body felt lighter than ever, but his mind somehow felt completely clear. He had never been here on his own before, and not for some time either, but he knew exactly where he was going.
He took in a lungful of air when he finally saw the small clearing in the trees he was looking for, stopping short when he was directly in front of it, with a perfect view of the lake Arthur used to visit before his father had built him his own on castle grounds.
He could see a figure waist deep in the water. They had their back turned to him, but there was no mistaking who it was.
“Gwen!”
She didn’t reply, but her body sunk just a little further into the water.
“Guinevere!” He darted down to the lake and plunged in. Swimming the short length to the centre he put his hand around her arm. “Gwen?” Turning her body around so that she now faced him, Arthur saw her eyes were closed, but her face bore the expression of a daze. “Gwen, can you hear me?”
Her only response to this cry was to sink another inch into the water.
“No, come on,” he said, this time using his grip around her elbow to yank her back up. However, instead of pulling her out of the water, the action caused the reverse and Gwen slipped much further into the water, now up to her collarbone.
“No!” Arthur groaned. “Come on, Gwen! I…” He looked around them, but there was no sign of anyone or anything that could help. “Wake up! I don’t know what to do!” he yelled hopelessly. In the water, his head felt as clear as it could be, but utterly empty.
He braced himself before trying to pull her out once more, but careful not to pull as fast. Gwen sunk into the water again, this time just below her chin.
Arthur bit back a cry as he desperately tried to think of something - anything - that would stop her from going in. There was a log by the side of the lake but he couldn’t know if her body would rest on that or only drag it into the water with her. He wasn’t sure if there was even time for him to find out, as he watched her chin bob into the water. He was frantic to find something that would stop her from drowning, his every instinct screamed at him to just pull her out, but it felt like anything he tried to do would only make it worse.
And suddenly Arthur felt an emotion entirely foreign to him; one commonly known as guilt. For, as much as he had experienced a variety of emotions since he took up swimming, and often felt regret while he was in the water at his inability to fulfil his responsibilities to the kingdom and his father, he had never once blamed himself for that failure. But, at that moment he knew the only reason Gwen was in this situation was because of him. - Because he hadn’t listened when he’d been told to sit inside and had gone off and slayed a dragon, and because she knew him. Because he…well, cared.
Arthur stared at her vacant face as it drifted further into the water and didn’t notice at all when a sliver of moisture slid down his cheek.
He didn’t really notice either when his body sank a little further into the water, or when his bones began to feel heaver, or even when his mind grew full.
He did notice, however, when Guinevere’s mouth and eyes opened sharply, gasping for breath before she slipped underwater fully.
“Gwen!”
His arms shot out and grabbed onto part of her body, as he felt her hands coil around his elbows and pull herself up. He couldn’t see her face properly now that half of her wet hair had fallen in front, but he could feel her chest rising and falling with breath beneath his palms.
“Arthur!” she puffed, bracing one hand on his shoulder while her other swept her hair out of her face. She looked at him, utterly confused, and tried to explain between panting what she herself could not fathom, “There was - I was - She - How did I end up here?”
“It’s alright,” he said, strangely feeling that it was.
“But what happened? You - are you crying?” she asked abruptly, noticing the stream from the corner of his left eye that traced all the way down to his jaw.
Arthur laughed at that, for he did not know what to say. Only that he knew with absolute certainty that there were tears down the side of his face and that his body felt incredibly, unusually, heavy; Guinevere was his anchor just as much as her balance relied on him.
“Are you alright?” she inquired, concerned, and he beamed in response.
“Yes. I…I’m fine.” He felt absolutely light with relief and joy - the irony of which did not escape his now full mind for the feeling was a result of his heaviness - and staring at Gwen, who looked at him slightly puzzled but pleased by his obvious happiness, and bathed in water and sunlight seemed utterly radiant, he knew with perfect clarity that he wished to kiss her.
So he did.
Epilogue
Part Seven
All of Camelot was in uproar. For many years now, the people had only known a simple life, and although there had been problems, they had weathered through them all eventually. The lack of water was a more unusual one than they typically faced, but there were ways of surviving it and it was felt to be something they would manage.
A dragon terrorising the town was an entirely different matter.
No one was certain exactly what time the dragon had arrived, but it was quite late into the night with most people already asleep. The knights on duty spotted it first, but thought it was simply a large bird from a distance, until the dragon grew closer and closer, increasing in size…and then opened its mouth and breathed fire onto the roof of the castle.
The men were assembled as soon as possible and they began to fight the dragon off as best they could, but their efforts were in vain.
“Perhaps we should leave the castle?” Gorlois suggested, as they gathered in the great hall, a mass of bodies shuddering against the fear from outside while a few wounded lay on beds being attended to.
Uther shook his head stubbornly. “Never.”
“Gorlois is right!” Ygraine tried to reason with her husband. “The dragon appears intent on attacking the castle, not the rest of the town. Perhaps it would be safer if we started trying to get people out.”
The king disagreed. “How would we get them out when he is attacking all corners of the castle?”
“Some of the servants’ entrances lead out the back…or perhaps through the stables,” Gorlois wondered.
“He can fly right round in a second! They would never make it,” Uther pointed out.
“He has to retreat some time. At least we should try moving the wounded,” Ygraine entreated.
Uther clucked his tongue and looked around. The room was full of able people mostly, but in the few hours they had been gathered more and more wounded, mainly knights but some servants and commoners too, were starting to be brought in. He still believed the best they could do was stand fast and hope the morning light brought some solutions with it, but he could not hold out when his wife used that tone. “What does Gaius say about their condition?”
Ygraine walked over to where Gaius tended to one of the patients to find out. “Gaius, how are the people doing?”
“Not too terribly, my lady. We have been lucky so far; none of our wounded have been too badly burnt or scratched. But I fear their injuries will start to get worse. The last knight I tended said the dragon has been moving closer and closer, and our luck may not hold fast.”
“We have been wondering if perhaps we should get some of the people out of the castle.”
“Hmmm,” Gaius pondered, as he continued to dab an ointment on the chest of a servant, the man nearly faint from shock rather than pain. “Moving would seem the best choice of action, but perhaps not for a few days.”
“Days?” Ygraine exclaimed.
“The dragon is too alert; it will be too easy for him to go after anyone who tries to leave and then their injury will be worse than if they remain in the castle; possibly even death. If he continues to attack us with such speed in maybe two days, possibly even less, he will grow tired and have to retreat even if only briefly.”
“But how will we hold out for so long?”
“That, my lady, I cannot say.”
At that moment a girl came up to the pair, clearly searching for Gaius, and bowed when she saw the queen. Ygraine recognised her as the serving girl who she had hired not long ago, although her appearance was quite different now, face covered in sweat and apron smeared with flecks of blood.
“Yes, Gwen?” Gaius asked.
“I have administered the salve to Sir Owain and prescribed him the half hour’s rest you ordered, but he insists on going out to fight.”
Gaius shook his head. “Very well. But tell him that when he comes back with a bleeding wound he is not to complain when we have to give him stitches.” Gwen nodded and was about to leave when, Gaius added, “Oh and I saw Sir Pellinore being brought in, has he been looked at -”
“He has some burns on his arm and back; Marie and the Lady Morgana are seeing to him.”
“Thank you. If you would remember to check on Sir Geraint?”
“I have had another look at his hand, and redone the bandage.”
“Thank you, Gwen.”
After she had gone, Gaius began putting the bandage strips into place on his patient, and noticed the queen looking curiously after Gwen, who was now by Morgana’s side, speaking quietly with her as they looked after a patient together.
“I think she may make a fine physician’s assistant one day.”
“Indeed. I hope Merlin is not jealous.”
Gaius gave a short laugh. “He tried to help, but I am afraid he will never be very good with medicine. I told him to go keep Arthur company; he looked quite downcast.”
“Yes,” Ygraine began, reflecting on her son’s recent mood. Although he had taken up longer baths, lack of a large enough tub meant he had not been able to swim for three days now, and Ygraine expected the complacent, light-heartedness she had seen from him during the many years he had not. And, at times, she had. But at others he seemed completely the opposite; sad, worried, tired and she could not understand it any more than she could think of a solution. She had started to wonder if perhaps the loss of his beloved pool might drive him to the tears they had once thought would break his enchantment, but she had not confessed this thought to anyone else yet.
However, now, as she looked around the room, a more pressing one came to mind.
“Where is Arthur?”
*
“I still don’t really think we should be doing this,” Merlin mumbled nervously.
“You always used to say that when we tried to sneak out of the castle and nothing that bad ever really happened.”
“That was different! The worst that could happen to me then was that Gaius would give me extra chores. We’re dealing with a dragon here!”
“I know that. Shame you can’t, you know, just use your magical powers and defeat him. Although I suppose you making a cloud with a dragon shape would be just as helpful as if you could speak to him in…Dragonese and ask him to leave nicely.”
“There’s no such thing as Dragonese, idiot, dragons speak just the same way we do.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, Arthur. Really. And short of you going up to him and asking him nicely to leave us all alone, I don’t see what you plan on doing.”
“I was about to raise the same point.”
The two boys looked over their shoulders and saw Sir Leon standing behind them, with his arms crossed wearing the closest thing to a severe expression he was able to muster.
“Imagine my surprise when I came back into the great hall and your mother’s handmaiden pulled me aside to say that the queen and king were looking for you, and, by association, me.”
“Right. Sorry about that, Leon.”
“You can pretend to apologise later, sire, now we have to go back downstairs.”
“Not now -”
“Yes, now! And don’t try to make excuses or play tricks on me,” he added, holding his hand up when Arthur looked like he was about to interrupt, “I have already fallen for one of them this evening and made myself look a fool when you suggested I pop my head out to see how the knights were faring, I will not be doing so again.”
“Leon, I was not trying to make you look a fool -”
“It is of no matter, my lord -”
“I just knew you would go outside then because I know you want to be out there with the other knights fighting the dragon. Just as I wish to be out there too!”
Leon softened, but would not relent. “I’m afraid that is not an option, my lord. Not for either of us.”
“Yes it is!” Arthur insisted. “I may…float, but I am still the Prince of Camelot, which means I can give orders just like my father, and if I order you to go out and fight then, Leon, you will. And if I want to go out and fight then neither of you have the right to stop me!”
Merlin stared at Arthur in shock. Leon was slightly taken a back by Arthur’s determination; the prince’s resolve, dare he think it, almost kingly, but he had to interject. “Sire…your father…”
Arthur sighed and looked at him pleadingly. “Leon, what did you teach me how to work a sword for if you did not intend for me to use those skills now; when Camelot needs help most?”
Leon paused a moment longer, but found himself giving in. “What is your plan?”
“To get behind the dragon’s head.”
“Behind it?” Leon repeated Arthur’s statement.
“The only way to kill a dragon is to strike it deep in the neck or remove the head entirely.”
“Yes, I am aware of that. But how do you know how to kill a dragon?”
Arthur titled his head at Merlin who looked down at Leon’s quick gaze.
He shrugged and said in what he hoped was a nonchalant manner, “It was in some books I read.”
“The knights are all down there; trying to reach his jugular,” Arthur explained, turning back round and continuing the way they had been going, “but from up here perhaps we will be able to hit him from behind the head when he is distracted by the knights and defeat him.”
“That is…not a terrible plan. But why are we going this way? Don’t we need to go higher up the castle before we go across it?”
“We need to get a sword to strike him with.”
“Is that the only reason?”
“Yes. Why?”
“Well…” When Arthur looked back over his shoulder Leon gestured to his sword that hung from his belt.
“Oh. The roof it is then.”
But once they were on the roof, moving very quietly while crouching down low, it was clear that this plan would not do either.
“He is smart,” Leon observed of the dragon in low tones after watching him swoop on his friends down below a few times, and hoping they were all still faring well. “He does not stay in one position for long.”
“But that may bring him close enough to us that we can get a sure shot,” Arthur conjectured.
“True, but I doubt that he would do so without noticing us at the same time. His flight is a great advantage.”
“Well, I guess it’s good we have that advantage too,” Merlin stated. When Arthur and Leon looked to their right at Merlin, he corrected himself. “Well, we don’t, but you do,” he finished looking pointedly at Arthur.
Arthur’s eyes widened as he looked at Merlin. “You’re not serious?”
“Why not? It’d probably help.”
Arthur looked over at Leon who agreed. “It is a little windy this evening, sire,” he pointed out; his hand on Arthur’s shoulder was probably what was keeping Arthur on the ground, rather than hovering above it.
Arthur groaned. “But that would be humiliating! To save Camelot by floating!”
“To save Camelot, sire,” Leon repeated solemnly.
Arthur sighed. “But how are we going to stop me from flying away?” he asked, a little embarrassed by the need.
“I can help there too. I still carry this.” Leon used his free hand to reveal a big coil of string he’d kept tucked into his belt.
“Excellent!” Merlin said excitedly.
Arthur wished he was as enthused. Everything that had seemed clear when he’d been sitting there in the great hall, practically itching to get out, was starting to get murky. He’d spent much of the previous day laying in the bath, but just lying there had not been the same as when he swam. His head felt clear, but not clear enough, and he felt sleepy, unaccustomed to being awake at this time. And he really, really, did not want to have that stupid string tied around his arm again.
But Leon was right. It was to save Camelot.
“Get it over with then,” he said, holding his arm out, while Leon instructed Merlin to keep hold of Arthur while he tied the string around his arm.
“Now, you hold the sword like this.”
“I know -”
“And if you angle it thus -”
“I know! I remember, Leon.”
“I confess, I’m a little surprised you do, my lord.”
“Me too.”
“Now, I can make sure you don’t get blown away but I won’t be able to control the direction of the movement well; you’re going to have to try that yourself.” When Arthur nodded, Leon continued, “If you can see you have a good shot at him, take it.”
“Alright.”
Leon and Arthur stood for a moment preparing, before Arthur turned to look at Merlin.
“You have to let go of me, first, Merlin.”
“Oh, right! Sorry!” As soon as he let go of his hold of Arthur, the prince rose in the direction of the wind carrying him forward as well as higher. Leon tried to steady the rope so that Arthur wouldn’t go too high, and too far above the dragon, but as the wind grew stronger it was hard to control the movements.
Arthur finally found himself atop the dragon’s head. He could see he would have a better chance of thrusting the sword into his neck if he were lower down but the dragon’s ears were just underneath him and he would probably hear if Arthur called out to Leon. He didn’t want to risk alerting the dragon to his presence by just turning round to look at them either. Sword clutched tightly in hand, he did what first came to his mind and grabbed on to the tip of the dragon’s ear, the only part of him within reach.
The dragon’s head jolted back instantly, but Arthur managed to lower himself down and plunge the sword into the back of his neck. The dragon suddenly went stiff before jerking wildly; the action causing his wing to tear into the string that kept Arthur from being carried off. He did not see the tear, but he felt it, the loss of pressure on his arm, and soon gripped onto the dragon so that he would not fly away.
Arthur worried from the way the dragon was moving he might possibly explode - Merlin had not mentioned the manner in which dragons died - but he found the dragon did nothing other than fall to the ground with a great amount of force and speed, although its body protected Arthur from the impact.
Still clutching on to the dragon - for despite being lower down and not atop a moving body, the wind was great enough to pose a threat to Arthur’s stability - Arthur raised his face from the scaly back and saw a small bunch of slightly haggard knights staring at him in shock.
“Sire?”
Arthur did not know what to say in response. He eventually managed, “Hello,” with a smile, but that only made them more confused.
“Arthur!”
He turned his head and saw the bearer of the voice on his other side, running down the castle steps and up to him. “Gorlois!” he called back. “Is everyone alright?”
“Yes. Although your parents have been going mad with worry for you. - Of course,” he said grimly, as he helped Arthur stand, “I don’t know what Uther will say when I tell him that his son was busy riding a dragon.”
*
Uther did not say anything at first. When the events were explained to him; from the viewpoints of the knights, Gorlois, Merlin and Arthur, he was initially rendered completely speechless - from joy.
His son had finally done something that Camelot could be proud of! And in spite of his curse! (Arthur did try to point out that he probably wouldn’t have been able to slay the dragon in the first place if not for the curse, but Uther was not having any of that.)
When the sun rose not all that long later, the knights struggled to get rid of the dragon’s carcass, while the rest of Camelot began patching both themselves and the couple of damaged buildings up. The day was spent mourning the lives lost, few as they were, and trying to see how they could return to normal, when they still lacked water.
However, a few days later Uther called for a celebration. His son would be honoured for the service he’d done Camelot, and the commemoration took place in the streets. This was done mainly out of necessity, as the castle was still too damaged for a true feast to take place, but Ygraine felt, and Uther happily agreed, that it was the best idea. This meant the people could freely join in, and it was they who needed the lift to the spirits a celebration provided most, particularly when it was they who still felt most keenly the long journey that had to be made for water.
This way the most people could join in the whole event…all, except one; sat quietly in a corner, watching the celebrations taking place only through the window.
“My lord?”
“Guinevere.” Arthur smiled at her. “Why are you not outside enjoying the celebrations?”
“Lady Morgana is feeling a little chilly, I am fetching her shawl. What is your excuse?”
“The wind is a little high today.”
“But the celebrations are for you,” she replied, but Arthur shook his head.
“They are in my name, but they are for everyone.”
“But you cannot be restricted to only remain here,” Gwen insisted, “I saw you outside earlier.”
“I was,” Arthur owned, “but my father only permitted me to be so as long as Sir Leon was able to watch me. His mother grew tired and he wished to see her home, so I am to wait in here until he returns.”
“Is there not anyone else who could vouch for you?”
“My parents are required to entertain all the nobles, so my father does not trust that they will be able to always make sure of my safety,” he explained. “Merlin offered to keep an eye on me, but my father stopped trusting him when I was eight and alone with him and got stuck in a thankfully unlit fireplace.”
Gwen laughed, then clapped her hand over her mouth as if she felt she shouldn’t. “How dreadful.”
“It was probably more my fault than Merlin’s…and he was only six anyway, but since then Merlin has not been deemed suitable enough protection for me. So, I am here.”
“How lonely.”
He smiled a little wider. “It is not at present.” She flushed slightly, and he wondered why it gratified him so much that she did so. He also noticed that she looked at him oddly. “What?”
“What?” she repeated.
“You look like you…were going to say something. I don’t know.”
“I wasn’t, I just…You seem different recently.”
“In what way?”
“I don’t…I suppose I expected you to be more like you were before because you can’t swim anymore, but you’re not…”
“Is that a bad thing?”
“No. Not a bad thing. Just…unexpected,” she confessed. “Well, I need to go get Lady Morgana’s shawl.”
“Of course,” he said with a nod and watched her walk off in front of him. “Will you be coming back this way?”
“Coming back?” she asked, over her shoulder.
“Yes. On your way back out?”
“Uh,” she started, flushing again, “I imagine so.”
“Alright. Well, I shall see you then.”
“See you then,” she repeated, smiling despite her confusion.
Arthur smiled as he watched her retreating form disappear into the corridor. He returned to looking out the window, and watching the sky until someone called out to him.
“Arthur!”
“Morgana!”
“Have you seen a girl come past here recently?” she wondered, walking quickly up to him.
“What girl?” he asked, moving so he was no longer leaning against the wall.
“A servant, she’s one my handmaidens -”
“Do you mean Guinevere?”
Morgana stared at Arthur surprised, but was glad he knew of whom she referred. “Gwen, yes. Did you see her?”
“Yes, she walked past me. Said she was going to get something for you.”
“Right, when was that?”
“I…I don’t really know. I lost track of time. It wasn’t that long after I came here though. Did you see Leon leave with his mother? He brought me here just after that.”
“Yes I did - but that was half an hour ago,” Morgana stated, before picking up her pace and walking ahead.
“Where are you going?”
“It doesn’t take half an hour to fetch a shawl.”
“You can’t be that cold, Morgana.”
“Not cold, Arthur, concerned. Something may have happened.”
“That’s not likely is it?”
“Well, there’s no one in the castle to find out if it did, everyone’s out celebrating!”
Arthur ran after her as they made their way up to Morgana’s chambers.
“There’s no one here,” he stated.
“Arthur, look!” Morgana pointed at the floor where a shawl lay sprawled on the ground, and on top of it where some items from her dresser. “It wasn’t like this when I left. - Are you sure you did not see Gwen come back down?”
“Yes, I am sure.”
“Do you think…Perhaps she was surprised by something, and left in a hurry?” Morgana wondered. “And went a different way?”
Arthur doubted it, but tried not to let his worry show as he followed Morgana back out the room and through the way they thought she would have gone, out into the courtyard.
“I still cannot see her.”
“Neither can I,” Arthur noted, holding tightly to the stone pillar by him.
“There are so many people, though. There must be an explanation, mustn’t there?” Arthur struggled to answer, but then Morgana burst out, “Oh, look there is Merlin!”
No sooner was he opposite them, Morgana asked, “Merlin, have you seen Gwen?”
“Yeah -”
“When?”
“Now?”
“How long ago?”
“I don’t know,” he responded, his memory made less sure by their apparent agitation. “Ten minutes ago? Maybe longer, actually.”
“Where was she?” Arthur asked.
“She was walking out into the town.”
“By herself?”
“No, actually, she was with someone,” he recalled. “But I don’t know who.”
“You didn’t recognise them?” Morgana asked.
“No, I couldn’t see their face. The hood of their cloak was pulled up.”
“And you didn’t find that odd? It’s not exactly cold enough to be wearing a cloak,” she exclaimed.
“And why would Gwen just leave the celebrations like that when she’s meant to be working?” Arthur pointed out.
“Well, I did find it a little strange, but she was too far away for me to shout to her. I could only tell it was her by her dress. - And I just assumed it was maybe her cousin.”
“Why would you assume that?” Arthur wondered.
“Because she lives with her cousin,” Merlin stated obviously. “I just thought she was probably going to do something with her, and then come back. Why - what’s the matter?”
“I don’t know, it just feels like…something’s wrong,” Morgana said worriedly.
The three all looked around them at the throng of people they were surrounded by, uncertain of what they were searching for.
They were soon greeted by a relieved face. “Prince Arthur! There you are.”
“Marie,” he greeted his mother’s handmaiden. “Were you looking for me?”
“Your mother asked me to fetch you. She said you were waiting for Sir Leon inside but we could not find you there. She is starting to worry, but you are safe.”
“What does my mother need me for?”
A strange look crossed Marie’s features but she hid it quickly. “I do not know.”
“Yes, you do,” Arthur returned sharply.
“I believe she simply wished to see you.”
“That’s not all,” Morgana stated plainly, observing Marie closely, and she blanched at the close gaze of all three.
“I don’t know any more,” she insisted.
“You must tell us if you do, we think something may be wrong,” Morgana pointed out.
“We’re worried about Gwen,” Merlin admitted.
“Gwen?” Marie looked at Merlin with concern, but then shook her head. “Oh, but she could not have anything to do with this.”
“To do with what?” Morgana demanded.
Marie found it was not the glares of the two nobles, whom she would have to obey, that caused her undoing, but the imploring, sweet face of the third boy she often likened to the son she wished she had had (although she was a little too young to have had a child as old as he, if she’d been in a position to have any).
“I do not wish to alarm you,” she said quietly, glancing furtively at the people around them, “but there has been a sighting.”
“Of whom?” Morgana demanded impatiently.
“Nimueh. The witch who cursed you,” she added to Arthur, although the explanation was unnecessary. He had not heard that name in many years and at the time it had been nothing more than a funny word, but the memory had taken root and now he felt its true meaning.
“She’s here?” Merlin gasped.
“We are not sure. The alchemist thought he saw her when he was fetching water earlier in the day, but we have only just received report of it now. But to be safe, the king and queen wished to make sure of your location, sire. So if you will come with me we can reassure them, my lord.”
“I’m afraid you’ll have to reassure them for me.”
Arthur bolted, breaking through the crowd in the courtyard and running out into the town.
“Sire! My lady!” Marie added, when Morgana took off after him.
“Don’t worry, Marie, we’ll bring him back.”
Marie stared as Merlin gave her elbow a light squeeze and then took off on a run himself. Merlin whom she knew best of the three; Merlin whom she trusted, and was certain would do his best to bring the prince home safe. - But only after they had done whatever it was they intended to.
Shaking her head, Marie picked up her skirts and ran after them herself.
As he raced forward, Arthur heard Morgana yelling to him. “Arthur where are you going?”
“I don’t know!”
“Then what are you doing?”
“I’m not sure! But something’s happened to Gwen!”
“But Marie’s right! What would she want with Gwen?”
“I don’t know!” he repeated. “I just know this Morgana!”
“But, Arthur, it doesn’t make any sense!”
“I can float in air! That doesn’t make sense either!”
“Arthur, just stop for a second and think about this!”
When Arthur didn’t comply, Morgana glanced back over her shoulder and saw Merlin running after her, already starting to huff with fatigue.
She looked forward just in time to see Arthur run into a horse turning into their path.
“Whoa!”
“AH!”
Neigh!
“Prince Arthur!” The man on the cart the horse was pulling quickly jumped out of his seat once the horse had been steadied.
“Leon!” Arthur took a deep breath as he put his hand on the man’s shoulder. “I am glad to see you.”
“What is going on?” he wondered, growing more confused at the sight of the two more people running up to them in the form of Merlin and the Lady Morgana (or possibly it was three; he could see another shape moving forward behind Merlin, but it was too blurry to make out).
“We think Nimueh is back.”
Leon’s hand immediately went to his sword. “Where? When? - How? Does the king know?”
“I don’t know. - Well, yes, my father does know, but as for the rest…” Arthur threw his hands about. “We think she might have gone somewhere that way,” he pointed out.
“Well, we have to get you inside, to safety.”
“No, Leon.”
“Sire, -”
“I think Guinevere is in danger.”
This made Leon hesitate. “Are you sure?”
“Well…no,” Arthur admitted. “It may actually be nothing, but Leon, I…I need to make certain.”
Leon sighed. He could tell he was going to regret this decision, but he found he made it anyway. “Very well. Get in the cart, sire.”
“Thank you, Leon.”
“No need to thank me, yet. You may need to speak for me when your father decides to throw me into the stocks.” Leon helped Arthur get into the back of the cart. He was about to take his place in the front seat when two people bumbled up to the cart.
“I am coming with you!” Morgana exclaimed loudly.
“Me too!” Merlin wheezed, his body slumping against the wood.
“I don’t think that is the best idea, my lady,” Sir Leon insisted, even as he helped Merlin climb into the cart.
“I am coming,” Morgana stated, and then climbed into the front bench, and took the horses’ reins in her hand, clearly intending to direct the animal.
“My lady! You cannot sit there!”
“I always sit in front.”
“Let’s stop wasting time!”
At Arthur’s insistence Leon realised it was time for him to take a seat somewhere on the cart or be left behind. He could not let the prince leave without him, and as it seemed too improper to sit up next to a woman who was neither married nor related to him, Leon jumped into the back of the cart.
“I hope this thing can take all this weight!” Morgana stated as she pulled on the reins and started to direct the horse so that it turned around.
“It is made to carry many heavy sacks of grain; I’m sure it can carry four people, my lady,” Sir Leon informed her.
“Yes, just not particularly quickly,” she remarked, trying to make the horse increase his speed.
The men said nothing as they now saw another woman come to a halt slightly in front of them, just in time to see the cart moving off. She laid her eyes on the knight sitting in the cart and gaped.
“Sir Leon!”
He stared back at the queen’s handmaiden and felt a little ashamed.
“Don’t worry Marie!” Merlin yelled out. “We’ll be fine!”
Leon wished he could be as sure of that.
As they moved he tried to keep an eye out for anyone looking suspicious. He had the disadvantage of not actually knowing what Nimueh looked like other than being, apparently, a beautiful woman, but as most people were still enjoying the celebrations he felt it would be easy to spot someone who was out of place. It turned out, it was easier to find her than he would have liked.
Before long they had got through the towns and started on the path into the forest.
“Maybe we should turn back,” Merlin wondered.
“No,” Arthur said immediately.
“It would probably help if we knew where we were - Ack!” Morgana yelled suddenly as the wheel of the cart ran into a pothole, and the cart jerked to a stop.
Leon sprang out of the cart to adjust the wheel, but saw a figure move behind the trees.
He pulled his sword from his sheath and took a defensive stance immediately. “Who’s there?”
“What is it, Sir Leon?” Merlin asked quietly, but Leon shushed him.
“I know you are there,” he said evenly, moving back up the path to approach the tree in question, while the others slowly made their way off the cart and towards him. “Show yourself!”
A laugh sounded, before a hooded figure emerged. They walked down the slope and onto the dirt path before pulling the hood of their cloak back, revealing a fair face and long brunette waves.
Leon swallowed. “You must be Nimueh.”
She smiled. “I must. But I know who all of you are, Sir Leon. Merlin. Lady Morgana. Prince Arthur,” she looked at each of them as she spoke their names, her eyes finally resting on Arthur.
“How do you know us?” Morgana wondered.
“I have watched the castle for some time; every year since you were born,” she added to Arthur. “This year I have come a little early.”
“What do you want?” he demanded stiffly.
“Justice. Your father made me and mine suffer by forcing us into an exile we could only leave in secret, so I made him suffer by cursing his son to a life of flight.”
“You got rid of the water,” Arthur realised.
“Yes. And I would have left it at that too. But then you murdered Kilgharrah,” she said venomously.
“The dragon,” Merlin whispered his realisation aloud, but Arthur did not need it; there was only one thing he had ever killed.
“You must pay for that, Arthur Pendragon.”
“You’re going to kill me?” he wondered aloud, just as Leon thought the same thing and moved across to stand with the prince.
But Nimueh only cackled. “What good would that be? You wouldn’t suffer nearly enough. You took away someone I cared about, now I have taken away someone you care about.”
“That’s not justice, that’s vengeance,” Morgana cried.
“You know I had thought to take your mother,” Nimueh continued, as if Morgana hadn’t spoken, “but you looked at the girl so sweetly; and, of course, it made things far easier. People might have noticed the queen leaving with a stranger, but not a servant. - Although, really, what would your father say?”
“What have you done with her?”
“Nothing. It is only an enchantment; it will draw her to the thing that you love most,” she said secretively.
“What? The…” Arthur stopped, suddenly realising just where they were. He turned to Leon. “I know where she is!”
“Then go!” Leon filled the space Arthur left as he ran off behind them. “I will not let you follow him,” he said to Nimueh.
“What makes you think I will try? I would not have told him so much if I had not wanted him to figure it out.”
“Why?” Morgana exclaimed.
“It is less fulfilling if he does not get to see her die. You three, however, I care far less about.”
Leon swiftly moved to stand in front of Merlin and Morgana, his sword at the ready. “Go with him!”
“What about you?” Merlin asked.
Leon shook his head. “Get yourselves to safety.”
“We cannot just leave you!”
“How brave,” Nimueh commented. “But before you start arguing over which of you is going to sacrifice yourselves I should tell you that I shall be going now.”
“Going?” Morgana repeated. “You’re not going to kill us?”
“What purpose would that serve me? What a dreadful waste of time.” She shook her head. “No, my work here is done.”
“No, you cannot leave!” Leon ordered.
“I cannot?” she repeated, amused.
“You are under arrest,” he said plainly. “For enchanting the prince, for taking away the water in the town and…for whatever it is you have done to Guinevere. I am taking you in.” He stepped forward when he was finished and Nimueh grew stern.
“I would advise you not to continue on those lines, Sir Leon, or you would leave me with no choice,” she warned, her hand rising.
He gulped, knowing her powers were far greater than any of his abilities, but he stayed firm. “It is my duty. I am taking you in to the king.”
“If that is your decision.”
As Sir Leon approached, Nimueh raised her arm so it ran parallel to the ground, and they could all see a white light beginning to form in front of her palm. He had never fought a magical opponent before, and didn’t know what would be his best plan of attack, but quickly decided to try to avoid her blow, and then make her hands secure so she could not cast a spell on him. With a firm grip on his sword, Leon ducked as the light started to grow - and then disappeared, into a cloud of blue smoke.
In fact, everything was covered in the dark clouds; Leon couldn’t see anything other than the smoke that was starting to go up his nostrils.
“What is -” a female voice exclaimed, before breaking out into coughs as did the three others.
Amidst the heavy coughing Leon heard someone mumble something in front of him; felt a slight swoosh in the air and saw a puff of lighter colour smoke pop before his eyes.
“Merlin? Lady Morgana?”
“We’re here,” the latter answered, waving her hands through the smoke as it slowly started to dissipate. “Are you alright?”
“Yes. I think Nimueh has gone.”
The blue slowly evaporated into the air, and it was revealed that only three people remained on the dirt path.
“What happened then?” Leon inquired.
Morgana looked pointedly at Merlin who shrugged. “I don’t really know. I just saw what she was going to do and I knew I had to do something, and then…” he held his hands up.
“You made a big cloud of blue smoke,” Leon finished.
“It’s one of the few things I can do. Besides, it distracted her from you, didn’t it? Even if it means she got away.”
Morgana laughed. “Remind me never to say you can’t really do magic, Merlin.” After his responding smile, she wondered, “Where do you think Nimueh went?”
“Probably back to wherever she’s been hiding,” Leon presumed.
“But…what about Arthur and Gwen?”
*
Arthur raced through the forest as fast as his legs would take him. As he ran, he could feel the air whipping around him, each step threatening to take him too high, but he didn’t stop. His hands reached out in front every so often to anchor himself against a tree but only for a moment before he was running again.
His body felt lighter than ever, but his mind somehow felt completely clear. He had never been here on his own before, and not for some time either, but he knew exactly where he was going.
He took in a lungful of air when he finally saw the small clearing in the trees he was looking for, stopping short when he was directly in front of it, with a perfect view of the lake Arthur used to visit before his father had built him his own on castle grounds.
He could see a figure waist deep in the water. They had their back turned to him, but there was no mistaking who it was.
“Gwen!”
She didn’t reply, but her body sunk just a little further into the water.
“Guinevere!” He darted down to the lake and plunged in. Swimming the short length to the centre he put his hand around her arm. “Gwen?” Turning her body around so that she now faced him, Arthur saw her eyes were closed, but her face bore the expression of a daze. “Gwen, can you hear me?”
Her only response to this cry was to sink another inch into the water.
“No, come on,” he said, this time using his grip around her elbow to yank her back up. However, instead of pulling her out of the water, the action caused the reverse and Gwen slipped much further into the water, now up to her collarbone.
“No!” Arthur groaned. “Come on, Gwen! I…” He looked around them, but there was no sign of anyone or anything that could help. “Wake up! I don’t know what to do!” he yelled hopelessly. In the water, his head felt as clear as it could be, but utterly empty.
He braced himself before trying to pull her out once more, but careful not to pull as fast. Gwen sunk into the water again, this time just below her chin.
Arthur bit back a cry as he desperately tried to think of something - anything - that would stop her from going in. There was a log by the side of the lake but he couldn’t know if her body would rest on that or only drag it into the water with her. He wasn’t sure if there was even time for him to find out, as he watched her chin bob into the water. He was frantic to find something that would stop her from drowning, his every instinct screamed at him to just pull her out, but it felt like anything he tried to do would only make it worse.
And suddenly Arthur felt an emotion entirely foreign to him; one commonly known as guilt. For, as much as he had experienced a variety of emotions since he took up swimming, and often felt regret while he was in the water at his inability to fulfil his responsibilities to the kingdom and his father, he had never once blamed himself for that failure. But, at that moment he knew the only reason Gwen was in this situation was because of him. - Because he hadn’t listened when he’d been told to sit inside and had gone off and slayed a dragon, and because she knew him. Because he…well, cared.
Arthur stared at her vacant face as it drifted further into the water and didn’t notice at all when a sliver of moisture slid down his cheek.
He didn’t really notice either when his body sank a little further into the water, or when his bones began to feel heaver, or even when his mind grew full.
He did notice, however, when Guinevere’s mouth and eyes opened sharply, gasping for breath before she slipped underwater fully.
“Gwen!”
His arms shot out and grabbed onto part of her body, as he felt her hands coil around his elbows and pull herself up. He couldn’t see her face properly now that half of her wet hair had fallen in front, but he could feel her chest rising and falling with breath beneath his palms.
“Arthur!” she puffed, bracing one hand on his shoulder while her other swept her hair out of her face. She looked at him, utterly confused, and tried to explain between panting what she herself could not fathom, “There was - I was - She - How did I end up here?”
“It’s alright,” he said, strangely feeling that it was.
“But what happened? You - are you crying?” she asked abruptly, noticing the stream from the corner of his left eye that traced all the way down to his jaw.
Arthur laughed at that, for he did not know what to say. Only that he knew with absolute certainty that there were tears down the side of his face and that his body felt incredibly, unusually, heavy; Guinevere was his anchor just as much as her balance relied on him.
“Are you alright?” she inquired, concerned, and he beamed in response.
“Yes. I…I’m fine.” He felt absolutely light with relief and joy - the irony of which did not escape his now full mind for the feeling was a result of his heaviness - and staring at Gwen, who looked at him slightly puzzled but pleased by his obvious happiness, and bathed in water and sunlight seemed utterly radiant, he knew with perfect clarity that he wished to kiss her.
So he did.
Epilogue