Fragile Peace
DAY SEVEN: Hostile Encounters
It was morning finally when Merlin and Arthur had transferred from the first cave to the second. Because Merlin had only just learned the ability, and the amulet mostly answered just to Mordred, it took some time. When they came closer to the mouth of the cave that hid deep within the mountains, the change in weather started to show its drastic effect. Even their torches soon burned out.
Arthur was fortunate to have his heavy chainmail and pieces of armor to protect him, and Merlin had the Druid cloak, but even with those to bolster them, each was soon shivering. As they came to the cave’s exit, they knew why. In front of them, even as day commenced, the sky was still heavily gray as sleets of icy snow hailed from the sagging clouds. “Snowstorm.” Arthur whispered.
Merlin just nodded, having the feeling they should save their breath. He pushed his scarf up high over his neck, knotting it tightly as Arthur lifted his outer tunic’s loose material up as high as possible too. After taking just a few steps, their boots started sinking into the highest mounds of thick snow that had already fallen. Meanwhile the new icy drops slashed liked frozen blades at their cheeks.
~*~
She woke to a wall of snow packed against the opening and the fire completely burned out. Gwen lifted onto her elbow, giving a groan of misery. Her limbs ached as if needles were being driven into them. She had never been colder in her life, touching at her lips and feeling their bleeding rawness. Looking down at her fingers, they were chapped. There had to be better shelter that would allow her to build a fire from whatever was within. This one was completely gone, ruined by the storm.
A wave of dizziness hit her as she tried to stand. Putting out her hands to brace her landing, she fell to her knees and took heaving breaths, spitting out her nausea. It took all her strength to not just lie down and rest her head against the stone ground now littered with icy patches of snow. She clutched her stomach, hungering and weak. The warm snow she drank last night had helped, but her body needed more.
Gwen looked around for her walking stick, finding it half buried underneath a hill of white. She pulled it out and leaned heavily against, getting up to her feet finally. She was without idea of where to go, the snow falling hard and the wind blowing furiously making all directions uncertain.
Having no clear route made her shiver with fear because if she headed back to where Morgana and Mordred were he could capture her again. Maybe if she could just find the cave they had come through she’d at least have some stable shelter from the storm. Morgana said there were more, but to find them she would have to dig through the snow. Gwen scoured the area, seeing patches of black in the far far distance. Maybe there it was snowing less. It would be her best chance she surmised.
With her walking stick she fought her way through the storm, the exposed areas of her body fighting vulnerably against the threat of frostbite.
~*~
The terrain was rough and the freshly falling snow held no mercy. Often, Arthur and Merlin found themselves stumbling into the winter whiteness, far from any land of wonder. After a ninth hill to climb and come down from, Merlin tripped on his cape’s end and rolled downward without control. When his wild descent finally stopped, his ankle was wrenched at an odd angle, his leg having just hit solid rock. Arthur scrambled after his servant, kneeling as he got to him. “Merlin!”
It hurt, was Merlin’s first thought, his ankle burning like it was on fire. Weakly he grasped Arthur’s shoulder, whispering pitifully, “I think I twisted it.”
Arthur nodded, bringing his gloved hand out, touching at the hurt area.
“Ah…” Merlin gritted his teeth and Arthur let go.
“I think you’re right.” The king stated with concern, but also impatience.
“Arthur, go. Just leave me.”
The king scoffed at that, his servant always so self-sacrificing and melodramatic. “Enough, Merlin.”
He peered closer, past Merlin’s swelling ankle. “I think your clumsiness may have gotten us some shelter.”
“Clotpole.” Merlin whispered half-heartedly. For the first time since reading Mordred’s note, Arthur’s face showed the glimmer of a smile.
Merlin was adamant though. “Go on ahead. I’ll find a way to get in myself. Find Gwen.”
Firmly Arthur shook his head, ending the conversation there as he dug furiously through the snow until he found the cave’s opening. “Merlin, I know you’re hurt, but I need your help.”
The servant did his best to sit up, feeling the grip of Arthur’s hand to assist him.
Arthur told him, “It’s a cave. You can rest here. The snow is covering most of the opening. Let’s dig so we have room to get in.”
They dug with their hands, Arthur having gloves on at least to protect his fingers from getting raw. Merlin had none, but still he didn’t complain, helping Arthur dig until they had enough of an opening. Grasping Merlin’s arm, Arthur helped pull him inside. Then he took a look around. It wasn’t much, hardly had room to stand, but that mattered none as it would keep them warm and be shelter from the furious flurries of snow.
Merlin hissed in pain. Arthur turned around at it, kneeling down nearby. Noting his tunic shirt sleeves poking out from his chainmail, he ripped off some long pieces.
Flinching, Merlin complained. “Ah, I’m going to have to fix that.”
“Yes you will Merlin.” Arthur warned with a touch of amusement and then wrapped the pieces around Merlin’s ankle. Ripping off another piece of his tunic’s sleeve, he wrapped it around some snow and then finding a wall of elevated rock, carefully lifted Merlin’s leg up.
After Arthur put the wrapped up snow against his ankle, Merlin grasped his arm. “Arthur, okay. I’ll be fine now. You need to find Gwen.”
Selfishly maybe Arthur didn’t want to argue against that. He was desperately anxious about his wife, but knew he still couldn’t leave Merlin yet. “You’ll freeze to death here without a fire. I need to start one up.”
Once again Merlin’s protests fell on deaf ears as the king looked around the cave and then outside for anything to help him. Finding some flint and birch bark, he rubbed, getting nothing to happen. Merlin took the pieces from him, asking Arthur if he could search around the cave’s edge for any dry brush that would keep the fire going. As Arthur did, Merlin set the fire to a low height with a quick golden glow of his eyes.
A bit surprised to see the fire lit so quickly, but also disapproving as Merlin moved around busily letting out painful gasps, Arthur reprimanded his servant sternly. “Merlin, you shouldn’t be moving. You’ll make it worse.”
Silently Merlin had to agree. His ankle was still sore. Feeling kind of woozy, he lowered his head as Arthur got the fire going stronger.
Even though he tried to fight it, Merlin started to nod off.
“I owe you an apology.”
“What?” His eyes opened.
Finishing getting the fire going, Arthur turned to his servant. “I shouldn’t have doubted you Merlin. After all, you’ve only been faithful to me when so many others have turned. I accused you of stealing, lying and all, and I should have just realized the truth. Believing someone I barely knew, Valen, truly Mordred, was wrong, and I’m sorry.”
This wasn’t a time to gloat so Merlin simply gave a quiet thank you and told his master, “It’s bad out there. But I know you’re desperate to find her and I am too. So go on Arthur.”
Arthur nodded, moving as rapidly as possible, but before he departed the cave, he went back to put his hand on his servant’s shoulder. “Don’t move, alright. I’ll be back to get you.”
“Okay.”
When Arthur was gone Merlin tried to sit up, and then stand, but his ankle screeched at him in protest. Grimacing, Merlin lowered himself back down to the ground, carefully elevated his leg again, putting the wrapped snow back upon his ankle.
That one last bit of effort causing him some pain, and his body tired, his eyes closed.
~*~
Finally the storm seemed to be lessening a little. Lengthy and short storms, this most recent one ranking in the middle, were common in the mountains. Mordred had started his hunt for the handmaiden again after morning’s light. It would be a lot easier if he just had his amulet, could use it to ward off much of the earth’s fury, but of course that prying Emrys had it. They probably had read the second note by now and were on their way, if not already traversing the mountains for the king’s beloved wife.
Well it didn’t matter. Mordred was determined to find her first so his agenda could come to fruition. The war on magic needed to end and using this unborn child would start that, using it like a puppet, drawing its strings this way and that until Camelot succumbed.
~*~
It was as she was chopping up the vegetables for another pot of stew, the drudgery of living in the mountains where the snowstorms frequented so often, that she heard a sound behind her. Reflexes maybe not as fast as they once were, a hand locked around her before she could move. It made her drop the iron spoon, splattering stew all over the cavern floor as she came face to face with the king of Camelot.
As soon as he saw her scars, his surprise rolled right in. Morgana smirked at it, pushing away from his hand. “Still don’t know how to treat a lady do you Arthur?” She couldn’t help but tease like how she had when they were living under the castle roof together and his shyness, plus abruptness, sent some girls scattering away. That is before they puddled up at his eternally good looks.
Arthur couldn’t help it. He stared at the deep lines of scars that slashed right into her eyes and as they seemed out of focus, he realized they were hindered. “You’re blind.”
Easily Morgana moved past him, the state of her face’s imperfections giving her leverage. “Everyone always thinks that. HALF blind.” She moved a bit closer then, taking a good, yet blurred look at him, seeing how the snow was littered into his hair and that his face was turning red with cold rawness. “Care for some stew?”
That question brought Arthur back to life, taking him away from his shock of her deformity as he now asked rigidly, “Where is Guinevere?”
Morgana just gave a shrug, before feeling his hands come to her shoulders, one locking at her throat as he pushed her against the cavern’s wall. His eyes were bloodshot, like he’d been crying, or maybe it was just the snow and wind that had made him tear up.
He had no idea what he was doing, had traveled up one hill after another until he found this cavern. He had expected to find Mordred, but now that it was her and she was casually asking questions about food, his temper was at its boiling point. It was freezing out there, a storm just past. He didn’t want to think of his wife in those brutal conditions, carrying their child. But as he took a quick glance of the cavern’s crude interior, he doubted she was here.
Morgana wasn’t frightened by the hand at her throat, more disgruntled by it. “Why would you think I’d know where your wife is? Aren’t you able to keep track of her Arthur?”
His fingers tightened, making her squint just a bit.
He could keep squeezing…
Suck the life out…
Arthur let go, cursing furiously. Then he took a wild trek of the cavern’s interior, removing his wet gloves and slashing away at a slew of jars that only a witch could have. Glass shattered, liquid splattered.
“What has happened to you?” He screamed. “She was your friend. When Hengist took her you couldn’t even breathe in peace until I brought her back. What has she done to you Morgana for you to hurt her so? Why are you doing this, to spite me? Do you hate me that much?”
He hit at the shelf again, this time with his hands, slashing it away, and slashing his fingers. He howled in pain and fell to his knees.
Morgana watched, steeling her heart to not care, but it wasn’t frozen to total ice yet. She moved to the pot, picking up a rag and squatted down, smiling a fraction. “Still using your sword and fists before your brain?”
He pushed away from her, not caring that the rag had yet to wipe away all the blood. Arthur got back up to his feet, hating that her sarcastic flair could still get to him.
Morgana peered down at the mess on the floor, and then back to him, seeing his shoulders hunched away from her as he was fighting something inwardly.
Tears falling down his face, not letting her see them, Arthur asked hoarsely, “Did he kill her? Is she d-ead?”
Morgana shook her head and then realizing he couldn’t see her, she moved over to him, turning him around almost gently. “No.” Seeing the tears and knowing that they were past those days when she could mock him with humor or gently wipe them away, she told him “I don’t hate you…or her.”
She was alive. There was that hope. “Where is she then?”
Morgana shook her head. “I only wanted to be accepted for what I was.”
He grimaced with impatience as she turned around the focus of the conversation. “What do you mean? Where is my wife?”
“That’s what I told Gwen. That you and Uther never could see that.”
Now Arthur focused on his half-sister, seeing maybe for the first time her pain. He shook his head. “You don’t know that. If you hadn’t turned everything into this agenda to steal the throne, if you had just talked to me, maybe we could have worked something out.”
“You never once stood up to him! Every single one you turned your cheek at Arthur!” She cried out viciously. “All except for Mordred. You helped him flee.”
Dryly, Arthur muttered, “And look where that got me.”
“Right.” Morgana nodded. “And I guess that’s a bit of why I couldn’t do it to her. But get this Arthur. I lived in fear for years, having dreams that made me see things I didn’t want to see. I had a power I couldn’t even begin to understand, that made me feel like an outsider, until the Druid people helped me. All I wanted was to stop the unnecessary public burnings and let those who had magic stop living in fear.”
Perhaps she wanted his sympathy, but this was the wrong way to get it. Arthur looked her directly in the eye. “And yet you set armies against the people, the ones you used to actually care for during an attack or a food shortage. Remember that Morgana? My lady? Don’t ask me to pity you when you were the one who turned. I brought you home after a year of searching, and you made me look like a fool for that. No more.”
He gritted it out. “Now tell me where my wife is.”
This would probably be the last true conversation they’d share. The lines that had only been traced in the sand before, were now quilled permanently. “I let her go. Thought I’d give the child a chance to live. Before he or she meets their auntie.”
Arthur stepped forward, stance unyielding as he made something very clear. “If you ever even think of touching a member of my family again, you will rue the day. I will never relax my guard against you again Morgana. The one last decent thing you did was letting my wife go, but to bring her here in the first place, to work with Mordred to put her in pain, that I will never forgive you for. That makes you no family of mine.”
“No.” She smirked. “I’m just the witch.”
Arthur turned back around one time, letting her know, “Fine. You want to be the witch, you be it. But I am the true King of Camelot and I am the protector of my family. Attempt to usurp me again and I will not run away in fear next time. I will face you with sword in hand to my very death if need be to safeguard all I love, my kingdom and my family.”
He left then, rushing into the flurries of snow to find his wife, not sure where to go, but at least now he knew she was not in their clutches.
Morgana stood at the mouth of the cave, watching his descent with her scarred eyes, whispering what one of her latest visions had showed her, the reason why she would always be allied with Mordred,
“It won’t be at my hand Arthur. But by his…
With your sword.”
~*~
Emrys
Emrys
Wake up Emrys
Wake up…
Merlin shook, sitting up abruptly. That voice, the same one he heard in Northumbria and outside the stables. He dug now through his borrowed cloak, finding the amulet, shining with brown and orange light.
“He’s near.” Merlin whispered.
“Mordred is near.”
And if he was, that could mean Gwen was too. He had to do something. Not let a silly twisted ankle stop him. Arthur would need his help. A few times Merlin had used his magic to heal injuries. When it was larger ones for Arthur especially, nothing happened. And he’d never really tried hard enough to deal with anything that inflicted himself. But now he would.
Eyes glowing gold, Merlin focused on his ankle…running his hand over the afflicted area.
~*~
It was a blessing to have the snow not falling so hard anymore and the wind flurries losing their furiousness. To be able to walk while seeing where you were going and to not have the wind threatening to drop you to the ground was a gift of hope. It was just that already having to spend a night out here without food, with the harshest elements surrounding, Gwen felt at a strong disadvantage. Every time she took a look around she had no idea what the safest route would be, where she could find true shelter. All she could do was keep heading in the direction where she thought the least of the snow was, head to that bit of rocky area that was just fractionally getting closer.
sssss…shrrrr…
Gwen carefully crouched behind a snow-bank hearing a brush of sound. Lifting her head after a few moments, she saw the unmistakable form of Mordred.
“No…” She whispered, clutching her stomach as she scrambled away from the bank. She had wanted to find a cave, but now she fled in the opposite direction to make sure that Mordred did not spot her. Such an unfortunate choice led her to the thickest merciless peaks of snow.
~*~
It worked after a few tries. Merlin could feel his ankle healing, not perfectly, but well enough that he could get up to his feet without sharp shards of pain.
~*~
Arthur was trying to find his way back to the cave where he left Merlin, not having the easiest time locating it. The snow storm was over with now only a gentle patter of it hitting the ground, but it still was brutally cold and the high banks of built up snow were not only treacherous, but solid barriers at times. When he departed the cave earlier, the storm had made the air around him a solid mass of gray and white. Now that the blue sky was peeking through once more it was like being in a novel destination, which left Arthur feeling very confused
Hopefully he’d find it soon, but for now he wanted to make every effort to save his wife. “Guinevere!” He started yelling.
~*~
Mordred felt more than one presence. While one was at some distance from him the other was quite close.
Emrys…
And her.
Hungrily he eyed each side, ruthlessly deliberating on which to pursue.
~*~
It was glowing.
Gwen gaped at the green cloak as gold and silver light started shining through the dark material. Remembering that Morgana told her it was Mordred’s and aware that he was quite near, she thrust the cloak away. Then digging with her chafed hands, she buried it far into the snow.
Perhaps it had an element of magic, the reason hence why Morgana gave it to her. Although there was a time she would have trusted her, it was not so anymore. It was best to get rid of the cloak and risk the harsh weather conditions.
~*~
Now that he was out of the cave, Merlin felt it more sharply.
Emrys
Emrys
As he made his way around a mountain of snow, so high that it reached the halfway point of many of the evergreen trees, Merlin did his best to avoid walking around the adjacent area, afraid he could set off an avalanche. Coming to a bit of open area, he suddenly knew why the voice in his head felt nearer.
“Hello Emrys.”
Mordred. Years ago Merlin spared the boy, but there would be no sparing this time.
~*~
“GUINEVERE!” Arthur yelled, his voice getting hoarse from pounding it out of his throat repeatedly. He raked his environment with reddened eyes, fearing that the growing heaviness in the clouds above meant another storm was on its way. For now the tall hilly blankets of white were another hazardous danger for they could easily cause a slide of snow. Stepping through and around each cautiously he kept yelling.
“GUINEVERE!”
~*~
After locating his abandoned cloak, Mordred decided to focus on Emrys who he had a stronger awareness of. Then once he took care of the sorcerer, he would act out his plan of action for Gwen. He smiled intently at the sorcerer.
“So Emrys, we meet again. Actually I spent how many days in Camelot with you not being any the wiser. Aren’t you supposed to be the grandest warlock of all?” Mordred showed strong doubt. “Didn’t feel that way while I was in Camelot. Of course your king was supposed to have the strongest guard and yet not only did I get by it, but so did my friend, Gwen’s attacker. Actually my temporary friendship with him is over. He had a little snap of the neck. Really didn’t matter anymore so better to get rid of him.”
Merlin faced Mordred warily. The eyes were still the same piercing blue, the skin was just as ghostly pale, the hair just as dark, but he was a man now, tall, with the stronger definition of an adult. Nonetheless, Merlin had an advantage. Mordred knew he had the amulet and wanted it back, but Merlin had no intention of giving it to him.
“Where’s Gwen?”
Mordred gestured to one of the cloaks he was wearing, giving an innocent shrug. “How should I know? Morgana let her go to take a walk. She even gave her this cloak. Morgana’s too nice sometimes. I’m assuming Gwen panicked when it started glowing because it felt me. Like my amulet is too, right Emrys? Now you have no need for it, so give it back.”
He put out his hand expectantly as Merlin shook his head with seriousness. “No. I’m not going to do that. If you know where Gwen is you have to tell me.”
“Have to?” Mordred smiled. “I don’t think so Emrys. Do you know that my amulet is of earth? That is my Druid gift. They teach many things that you never had the fortune to learn Emrys, hiding your magic like a coward. You nearly didn’t help me escape when Uther imprisoned me, and then in the woods later, I would have died if I couldn’t scream so well. All your fault Emrys. You pretend to be so noble and good, but you poisoned Morgana.”
Mordred cocked his head with a boy’s inquisitiveness. “Really Emrys, what an awful thing to do. All because you had to keep your magic secret. You make magic seem vile. It’s because of you so many still have to hide.
You have to die Emrys.” Mordred whispered.
Before he stated with cold firmness.
“And
You
WILL.”
He screamed, causing the snowy mountains to erupt with violence.
~*~
Arthur stilled, hearing the most horrific sound ever. Falling to his knees, he clutched his ears, bowled over by it. Looking up, he noticed that the mountain of snow behind him was now coming apart, the heavy ball shaped drifts cascading at a furious bone crushing pace. Arthur scrambled for his life.
~*~
Gwen heard something in the distance, noises so hideous that it made her cover her ears with her hands and press deeper into the snow.
~*~
Merlin ran away with horror, but once at a safe enough distance, he lifted the amulet for what little bit of magic it would give him. Then using his own power and raising his hand with a look of fierce determination, his raven hair whipping around his face, he thrust the wall of snow back at Mordred, forcing him to duck to avoid being hit.
It was close, however when it was over Mordred smiled with intent, brushing off some drops of snow from his cloak. “Well Emrys, I’m impressed. For so long you have hid your magic and yet it seems you have a decent grasp of it. Who would have thought?”
Merlin planted his boots into the snow for leverage, trying to get over his shakiness from Mordred’s scream. Letting out some deep breaths, he faced him with conviction, focusing on his task. “You’re not going to win this Mordred. Arthur and I are going to save Gwen and you and Morgana are going to lose.”
His eyes glowed, his hand whipping itself around, sending a cyclone of snow in Mordred’s direction. The other warlock countered back as it began, a war of magic.
~*~
The landslide of snow caught up with him, smashing into his back and lifting Arthur off his feet. He tumbled over and over, his armor clashing with parts of his body painfully.
~*~
Slowly Gwen stood, glancing quickly at her hands, seeing that because of her exposure to the frigid temperatures a bluish tint was filling them. “No…” She moaned, using her stick the best she could to aid in the desperate hunt for shelter, feeling her stomach curse at its neglect.
~*~
Snow flew from one side to the next as the magical war continued. Hands rose to send the other into a tree’s trunk, both having to use their strongest skills of sorcery to keep from being impaled or snapping their neck. The fight was painful and quite taxing, their abilities closely matched. It was only when an outside source caused a distraction that Mordred took the advantage.
“Guinevere!”
Merlin turned around at the familiar voice, alarm building within him. If Arthur saw the fight he’d know about his magic. Concerned now more about Arthur finding out the truth, Merlin wasn’t concentrated enough on his defense and so Mordred struck.
Lifting his hand, Merlin’s foe raised a dense pile of snow up into the air. Just as Merlin turned back around to face it the snow was shooting in his direction angrily. Before he could get out a single spell, his mind still too focused on Arthur, the snow started pummeling him.
Mordred extended his fingers like a talon, taking back his amulet with his powers of sorcery before his onslaught devoured Merlin. The amulet in his possession again, he grinned, leaving Merlin to his terrible fate of being buried alive by the showering heaps of snow.
~*~
Like tiny blades slicing at her flesh, the icy prickles assaulted her skin. Leaning heavily on her walking stick, moaning weakly, Gwen desperately tried to find something to help her survive. Fleeing Mordred, taking the opposite direction of the rocky area she had hoped to find a cave in, had left her in a wintery horror. It was like each icy crystal was a phantom of death luring her to take an eternal nap. Thinking of her baby, yet to grace the world, yet to be given a chance, yet to feel love, she furiously shook her head, pulling the hood of her lavender cloak tighter around. Here in the feral winter it was nothing more than a shredded piece of material barely covering her as the icy winds viciously caressed her skin.
Her body too was becoming heavily affected, her mind slowing and her sight blurring. Through it all, Gwen tread on, thinking only of her child and seeing the man she loved again.
“No…I won’t…let…you…take…me…”
She stumbled, doing her best to not fall, leaning heavily upon her walking stick.
“Won’t…let you take…my child.”
~*~
Before he could get his mind to grasp what was happening, Merlin felt the snow packing him in. Soon it was fully surrounding his body making him gasp for breath. Trying to move, he found it too great a task, his entombment pinning his arms to his sides and his legs pushed up against his chest.
Opening his mouth, he whispered a few words, afterwards spitting out the snow that entered it for there wasn’t a bit of space around him that didn’t include the icy crystals. Panicked at his treacherous predicament, the spell didn’t work so well. Only a few drifts of the white powder ascended.
Doing his best to calm his fears, Merlin closed his eyes and whispered the words again. This time piles of snow ascended into the air, giving him hope that he had ridded himself of much of it.
It gave more room for his hands and arms so now he used them to dig. He kept doing so continuously, moving away the piles of snow until finally there was a crack of an opening. He pushed away the rest, lifting his head out of the snow when he was done, breathing in and out with gasping relief. He almost didn’t even mind the brutal cold to be taking in and out air.
Feeling around his tunic he realized Mordred had got the amulet and also got away too. That meant he needed to move. Both Arthur and Gwen were in danger. Gritting his teeth against the new pains in his body, Merlin slowly rose to his feet, hearing it in the close distance.
“Guinevere! Guinevere!”
It was anxious and weakened. Merlin moved toward it, signaling with his arms when he could see him. “Arthur! Arthur!”
The winds starting to blow wildly again, pulling at their clothes, they cautiously met in the center, both having experienced the worst of falling snow and so not wanting to risk getting hit again. As they did, Arthur railed at him. “What are you doing? How can you even be walking? You should be resting your ankle!”
Merlin shook his head, reaching out to a deep gash on Arthur’s arm. ‘You need to do something about that.” He ripped away a part of his tunic, tying it around.
“No. I have to find Guinevere. I still don’t get it. Why are you-
“Mordred was here.”
Arthur’s eyes widened as he pointed to his gash. “There was an awful scream. And then there was this awful deluge of snow. He caused that?”
Soberly Merlin nodded. “Yeah, Gaius has told me it’s something powerful sorcerers can do. Scream so strongly the earth rumbles. Remember when she tried to take Camelot the first time and Morgause was injured, Morgana screamed that way then, nearly brought down the whole castle.”
“I saw her.” Arthur filled in. “Morgana. She said she let Guinevere go. But I know Mordred’s after her because she’s expecting. He wants to use her, do something terrible. Merlin, I need to find her.”
To that the servant silently agreed and each helped the other since both their steps were not so stealthy anymore.
~*~
“Oh Gwen…”
With dread she turned around seeing his grinning face, a hill away from where she was walking.
“Oh no!” Gwen cried, scrambling through the snow. She would not let him have her baby, would not let him.
That magical fight with Emrys had taken much of Mordred’s strength, but he was confident that now he had the amulet again he could use it to capture Gwen. Then he and Morgana could get everything they wanted.
Gwen did her best to get away, but her limbs were aching and her balance was precarious. She kept taking little tumbles into the snow. As it happened to her one more time she felt something lock at her ankle. Turning around to look, Gwen shrieked as she saw Mordred’s face ever so close, his hand pulling at her ankle.
Fueled by her need to protect her unborn child, Gwen kicked desperately. As she did she caught sight of him using his other hand to lift the amulet the skies, opening his mouth, and letting out one of those horrid screams again. Pressing her hands against her ears, she immersed herself the best she could into the snow to avoid the dangerous after effects, feeling the strong rumblings of the earth.
His hands suddenly came to her arms, holding on so furiously his nails scraped away parts of her skin. That made her scream and deliver a frenzied kick with the last bit of forceful energy she had
Although it didn’t injure Mordred, it did make him flinch enough to lose his hold of the amulet. It rolled down the banks and hills of snow, falling into a deep crevice that had actually been the result of his previous scream.
“NO!
It made him so incensed that he screamed again, causing Gwen to scramble for snowy shelter once more.
~*~
They felt and heard the roaring rumbles of the earth, reacting anxiously to it.
“MERLIN, it’s happening again!”
“GET DOWN!” Merlin called out warningly as now this would be the third time in total, and the second time in just minutes that they heard the hideous scream from far off in the distance causing the earth to tremble with fury. “Bury yourself in the snow!”
Both did, hoping another avalanche wasn’t set off by it.
~*~
Mordred had misgauged the mountain horribly. His screams created wide gaps in the frozen soil underneath. Icy patches exploded and although Gwen was protected by digging her way into the snow, Mordred was out in the open.
He screamed one last time, but this one not a magical one as the folly of his actions showed themselves, a pack of wildly descending snow hitting him square in the chest before it forced his body down the hill. He rolled into twists and turns that grew so vicious, so rapid, his body literally flew over the shallowest patches. It would sail into the air, before it would hit the ground again, the snow slapping at him brutally. It happened three times, before the fourth time his arm hit at an odd angle. Mordred screamed as the bone snapped in half.
When finally his uncontained descent ended, his body was twisted, his arm was grotesquely thrust backward, and he had fallen into a pit of snow and rock.
~*~
At last it was over, and Merlin felt an odd sense as both he and Arthur lifted their heads. The whispering of his Druid name was no longer there at all. It was strangely gone.
~*~
Although not having Mordred at her back anymore was a blessing, Gwen didn’t take any time to celebrate, her body wrenching away from the deluge as it began again. Another storm. The flakes slapped her cheeks and she cried out with misery, begging that her strength would hold out until finally she found shelter. “My baby…”. She whispered, clutching her stomach with one hand as the other held to the walking stick. “My baby…”
~*~
The wind ravaged at all in its path as their environment once again blurred into white and gray. Arthur’s voice was too hoarse to yell anymore. He fell into a patch of snow and closed his eyes, his shoulders shuddering. Merlin weakly came from behind to realize he was crying. Gently, but firmly, he grasped one of his trembling shoulders. “Arthur, come on. We can’t give up hope.”
The king turned to him, his tears turning to icy water by the brutal frozen winds. “I never-I never should have left her. I should have taken her with me. I never got to ask her to be my queen. She suffered here and I never-
Cutting him off, Merlin firmly stated, “Arthur, she needs you now to be strong. We’re wasting time when we should be looking for her.”
He said nothing.
“Arthur, we CAN’T give up.”
The king rubbed away his tears, letting his servant help him to his feet.
~*~
This time there was one blessing. The storm was shorter and less fierce. However, as it was coming to its end Gwen had reached her limit. Being captured, Mordred’s cruelties and having to endure the cold winter weather, having no food, all while being hunted by a terrible fiend, she couldn’t do it anymore. Her exhausted battered body was giving up, her mind blurring into strong bouts of confusion and misery. If she just lay down for maybe a few moments, closed her eyes and rested, she’d feel better afterward. She’d be able to go on.
Sinking to her knees in the snow, she was in wonder at its sweet softness. It was cradling her sore aching limbs. She brought her hands down, feeling her eyes ever so heavy, the snow the bed she needed. Weakly lying down, her eyelashes fluttered. Sinking to her bed, she slumbered, too exhausted and her body already failing too much to realize that her temporary slumber would lead to her death.
As the falling crystals started to icily shower her, something slipped out of her cloak’s pocket, the wind carrying it away to top the snow defiantly.
~*~
Clutching her cloak around her within the cave, the temperature frigid tonight, Morgana wondered where Mordred could be. Usually he came back before the sky started darkening.
~*~
He woke, feeling the most wrenching pain in his arm. Looking down, seeing it was twisted oddly, he knew that he needed care. Cradling his broken arm as much as he could, Mordred laboriously, painfully endeavored to get out of the icy pit.
~*~
More time passed, increments of seconds, minutes and hours vital to survival before they received their hope, their wish. No danger was around anymore. The foe sorcerer had already feebly made his way up the hill that was distanced from the one they climbed. Nothing would have given them a sign of hope if it hadn’t been for it. Boots sinking into the snow, Arthur noticed it first.
“Merlin.”
He stopped, getting to his knees carefully. Bringing out his hand, he touched the freezing petal of wild rose red.
After exchanging a desperate look with Merlin, both dug, clawed at the snow with their hands, Arthur’s gloved ones pushing away every beat of white, Merlin’s bare ones wrenching through it until…
“Oh Heaven…
Guinevere.”
They dug her out completely, Arthur’s hands grasping the top part of her frozen body, Merlin holding onto her legs. She didn’t move or react, her skin tinged to the beginnings of pale blue. Arthur greedily clutched her to his chest, pressing her into his chainmail, stroking back her tangled iced hair. “No.” He whispered. His heart was beating hard, racing to find hope. She was so cold, her hands scraped and bleeding, but the blood frozen. His hands trembling, he gently touched her cheeks, whispering, “Wake up Guinevere. Wake up. I’m here. Wake up…please. Please.”
Merlin used sense, reaching down to see if it was there. And when he found it was, he pushed his palm against Arthur’s shoulder. “There’s a pulse. Arthur, she’s alive, but just. Let’s get her back to the cave. Come on we have to warm her up!”
Relief flooded in that she was breathing. Arthur cradled her into his arms, standing. “You’re right. Let’s go. Quick Merlin.”
They hurried as much as possible through the snow, leaving the defiant wild rose red petal to shine through all the white.
Day Seven-more