A Dark Day (part four)

[welshinnit]

Title: A Dark Day (part four)
Word Count: 11238
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Owned by Shine and BBC; please don’t sue me, I’m only playing!
Warnings/spoilers: language, violence, death
Summary: The stage it set before the Dark Day starts. Will Arthur and Merlin perish? Lo, a new arrival gives hope...

A Dark Day is the last story in the saga that started years ago with Merlin's Dream (found here http://welshinnit.livejournal.com/2011/04/22/ ; warning, approaching 500,000 words!)

The prelude can be found here: http://welshinnit.livejournal.com/2013/11/20/

Part One: http://welshinnit.livejournal.com/2014/02/19/

Part Two: http://welshinnit.livejournal.com/2014/03/25/

Part three: http://welshinnit.livejournal.com/2014/05/28/

A Dark Day: Many, Many bunches of Grapes

Arthur felt Merlin's body mould perfectly with his own whilst they lay in a bed of cushions and silks under the canopy of the large pavilion that had been erected in the Garden of the Rose. He stroked the black, thick hair and his lover purred. They had made love, slept and then made love again and only about six hours had gone by, but Arthur knew that he still had things to do; things that he was not sure he had the stomach for.

"We've got to get up," he said softly.

Merlin propped himself on one elbow and smiled cheekily into the blond's face. "I thought you'd done that already, several times."

Arthur slapped his butt. "You know what I mean."

His fiance's face became serious. "Yeah. There's the sorting out of the city guard, for one. Then there's the making up to your son, for another."

Arthur closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. "Adpted son," he whispered and immediately wanted to take back the words as Merlin got up from the cushions and went to wash, dress himself in black breeches and blue tunic; all done in a tight-lipped silence. It was when he was pulling on his Celimdol-made boots that he stared at the blond's face.

"You hurt him, Arthur. He's our Petros, our son, and I don't give a fucking fuck that he's grown nearly ten years in as many minutes. He's our son. I'd die for him, kill for him if I had to. What about you?" The last question was said in a near whisper, but in the stillness of the silk walls, Arthur heard him plainly enough.

"Of course I would, I...I love him equally as you."

That was not enough for Merlin and he stood, placed his fists on his hips and continued to stare.

Arthur averted the gaze. "I'll make amends, if I can. You know I'm a proud prat who opens his mouth before the brain kicks into gear." Arthur turned back to his lover and knew his fear showed on his face, though he tried desperately to hide it. "I think I'm too much like Uther."

Immediately Merlin was on his knees and clasped Arthur's hands in his. "Never! Fuck! I told you before not to ever say that again, you fucking dumb fucking blond!"

The blond chuckled out of some relief (always glad for Merlin's support) and kissed the knuckles that held him. "I'll make amends, somehow."

Satisfied, for now, Merlin pecked him on the cheek and left the partition that had given them privacy from the rest of the pavilion.

At last and with a long, drawn out sigh, Arthur hauled himself out from their cosy love nest. He also washed and dressed himself and dimly noticed that sometime during the day his 'adventuring' clothes had been brushed clean, his boots polished. As he went through the motions he wondered what time of day it was. It had to be near dusk, which was good beacuse then their three undead 'allies' would be around for what the night held for the city.

Bedwyr could most definately be relied upon. An old soldier who had faithfully served the original King Arthur and seemed to view the modern day blond that was the carbon copy of his liege with actual love. The ancient had proved himself time and time again in his protection of Arthur, Merlin and their loved ones. Bedwyr would not let them down, Arthur was sure of that.

Ambrose, however, was more of a mixed bag. It was true that on occassions he had helped them, but this version of Merlin had never met his Arthur and Nodens' Warrior felt that the Elizabethan vampire's still heart was full of despair and bitterness for the world's happiness, though he shielded it from others with a tired sarcasm. Lance had mentioned earlier that Ambrose showed reverence towards Nodens (had actually made an oath of fealty), but Arthur would still look out for treachery from that quarter. In a quiet, behind the scenes way, the blood mage had also worked against them back on Earth.

Then there was the Victorian vampire, Dorian Greyland. Arthur doubted that he would be of any use in a battle; the only power he had shown was in creating a wave of fear and awe directed towards the blond and Merlin in a fit of anger. Also, the leader of the Artistic Undead of London viewed Celimdol as his reincarnated lover, which made Gawain agitated whenever Dorian was around. Arthur saw his werewolf friend as their tank; nothing could stop him when he was in full charge, and the blond needed Gawain acting with as little distraction as possible. Dorian had to be kept as far away as possible from the young elf.

Arthur shook himself from his thoughts and allowed himself a wry smile. He had grown and not only the months of this wild adventure since travelling to Middle Earth. He was acting like a general and it just came naturally to him. He supposed the thirty mystical years he had trained with the Lonely Hunter (capped by the finesse training fromh Cynan) were finally paying off. The smile broadened as he strapped on Gilgalad and parted the heavy silk partition and Merlin's voice reached his ears.

"It's quiet simple really. Think of it as a bunch of grapes."

Gilli, as he lounged upon several large cushions while sipping a white, clay cup of water, frowned. "So the universe is a bunch of grapes?"

Merlin sighed. In desperation he turned his head to Tarrion. "Help me out here, please?"

Amongst the twitters of laughter from the group the old man had his hands in his lap (the Staff of Good and Law was no where to be seen) and seemed to be in deep thought, but he still smiled. "Alas, Apprentise, I am somewhat preoccupied and my days of being a teacher are long gone."

With a resigned sigh Merlin turned back to the web mage and, Arthur noticed, had the rapt attention of all in the room; Cynan, Myfanwy, Anharadeth, Rane, Gaius, Helen, Lance, Gwen, Leon, Morgana, the green-skinned barkeep and even a bemused Oakhaven. "Okay, let's start again. Space is big..."

"If this a lesson about the Hitchiker's Guide to the Galaxy, dude, I know that shit already."

Merlin narrowed his eyes and Gilli shut up. Arthur stifled a laugh with his hand. "As I was saying, space is big, very big. Imagine a single grape that's full of pips, each pip representing a universe; that's a multiverse. Now imagine a vine with dozens of bunches with all their singular multiversal grapes and all their universal pips and that is what you call a multiversal cluster, yeah?" The web mage nodded in understanding, but Arthur was not fooled for a moment. Merlin, it seemed, was and he continued with more enthusiasm. "Now imagine a field full of vines with their bunches of multiversal grapes and each grape teeming with universal pips." Gilli gulped. "This one world we are on now, is in it's pip, several fields and hundreds of miles away from Cynan's world, which is in it's own pip, own grape, own bunch, vine and field and so on. Like I said, space is big."

Gilli chewed at his lower lip and the whole room was silent in an air of expectancy. "Cool, dude. I still can't see what the universe has anything to do with a bunch of grapes though."

Merlin actually screamed in frustration and slapped a hand over his eyes. He seemed to slowly count to ten under his breath. It was then that Arthur laughed out loud and caught everyone's attention. Amongst a chorus of greetings, he sat down in an empty spot next to the mage and gave his idiot a peck on his cheek. "Give up, lover," he laughed and was rewarded with a mega-watt smile that melted the blond's innards.

Merlin handed over a clay cup. "Water I'm afriad. There's no wine to be found."

"Perhaps it would be an opportune moment for Gawin and I to give our report on the provisions, my lord?" said Celimdol.

His face now serious, Arthur nodded once.

"After a year long winter, there isn't much left," began Gawain. "There's some grain, smoked fish and salted beef to last three weeks at the most. The imprisoned priests, templers and acolytes have been fed a thin gruel and aren't left in a good fighting state, so it seems the good food was for Prytanis and his cronies."

"However," said Celimdol, "the high priest of Math says that his acolytes can use their magics to break the ice of Gella lake that hems in this city so that the fishermen can go out and ply their trade. The White Witch does not have a navy and I have heard that her allies of Masant are tied down in a naval battle; great flashes of lightning could be seen many leagues south of here."

Arthur took a pause to gather his thoughts. After a few brief moments he said "Although I think Velshna will want a swift victory, it's good that these acolytes use their magic on the ice. We've also got to think long term, just in case. Celimdol, I want you to create a group of runners out of the young who can't fight. Tell them that it'll be dangerous work, but we need them to carry messages to the hospice that Gwen, Myfanwy and maybe Arianwen will set up, the three Gallantine gates, myself and others."

The young elf grinned. "I anticpated as much and a worthy set of youths I have gathered at various points of the city, in a rota sytem for when they get tired. There will always be one next to your side and it seemed all wanted that honour. Quite a few had to be disapointed."

Arthur returned Celimdol's smile. "Thanks." He caught Rane's attention and the young prince of the Horse Lords sat up.

"My people man the walls, though they have short bows only and therefore have a short reach. Large stones have been piled next to each one to repel any invaders that attempt to scale the walls. Many arrows they have brought with them, but the stones are needed to make each one count. Our horses, I have instructed, will guard the three gates as a last defense. They, myself and my people, will fight to the last. My friend, I have seen her army...it is vast."

Cynan cleared his throat and seemed to be ill at ease by the attention he gained. "Roughly twelve thousand, four hundred and sixty goblins are at her command, as far as my sight can see. There are three hundred creatures that the templers of the power named Rhiannon decsribed as frost giants; every two of such would be a match for any white dragon I have fought previously on this world. About three thousand and seventy Scaneans are also in her army, but are kept apart from the goblins for a good reason, for the latter are well known for being eaters of manflesh. At least three hundred dragons, white black red and brown in colour, I have seen circling the army. That is what my elf-sight could see, but I have no doubt there will many that number in her reserves. Knowing this, I..." He cleared his throat again and Myfanwy placed a hand on his forearm for courage. "So I have spoken to the herbalists of this city and asked of the weed dragonsbane. What little stock they have has been placed at the gates and around this holy garden, though not to impede Lord Tarrion." Cynan looked to the Staffwielder, but the old man was very much deep in thought and did not seem to notice. Cynan took in a breath. "I hope I did not overstep my mark, my lord, but you were in much need of rest and did not want to trouble you with trifling matters." He finished with a bow of his head, embarrassed.

Arthur beemed a smile and held back tears of love for his sword mentor. "I couldn't have wished for a better general who shows his initiative and gets the things done that I've missed."

Cynan snapped his head back up and stood. He bowed deeply and simply said "Warrior-brother."

At this Celimdol opened his eyes wide in astonishment and smiled in pure love for the blond and his older brother.

"Indeed," continued Arthur as he surveyed the room," you are all my generals. Do what you think is right without thinking you have to talk to me first. Just keep me informed later," he finished with a grin.

It was then that Galthreth burst into the partition and roared with laughter at the chorus of greetings he recieved. The large man hugged Arthur in a tight grip when he approached and in his ear said, "I would have counsel with you, my lord prince, concerning the words of Rhiannon, may her love bless all those who show love." The warrior-priest then released the blond and stepped back, his face grim. "The city watch of Gallantine await your pleasure, Prince Arthur. One of the scum named a certain Nicandes is vociferous with his blaspheme concerning my goddess and the templers devoted to her great love itch to take vengence; I have assured discipline in their ranks."

Arthur had no doubt that the priest could keep a thousand templers in line if he wanted to, but kept any quips in jest to himself. He knew what he had to do and dreaded it. "Let's go," he said with determination colouring his voice.

It was then that Tarrion gasped out loud in despair and Merlin was the first to reach the old man. He grasped the gnarled hands in deep concern. "Tarrion? You've gone so pale."

With tears dripping down his cheeks, the Staffwielder shakily stood and then lightly kissed the young mage's cheek. "Alas, he is about to use The Moment and is all alone. Such desperation, such sadness, such death." He then shook with silent sobs.

Arthur saw his puzzled lover turn to Oakhaven, who seemed to be also near tears. "He talks of a Timelord who is in deep despair, but in a multiverse that is many, many fields away in its own little grape," he finished without humour.

Merlin gulped. "Tarrion is...is...?"

"A demi-power. Half dragon, half...well, you can guess the rest. Come, my old friend will not follow us out into the Garden of the Rose. He has much to think over, is my reckoning."

Arthur took Merlin's hand and gently led him away from the stricken Staffwielder. All the while his lover muttered to himself in astonishment a one worded question; "Timelord?"

By the time they had gone out into the light of the dying sun (Arthur noticed that the pavilion nearly covered half the garden and was impressed) Merlin had composed himself, but Arthur knew his lover's mind was buzzing with many questions and plans. Galtreth led them to one of the silver gates and it was here that they saw about a thousand of the disarmed city's watch hemmed in by the templers of Rhiannon. Arianwen stood to one side, robed in a hooded green cloak and dress with Sol at her side. The boy had a clean white strip of cloth wrapped around his eye sockets. It was he who turned to them and bowed low.

"I feel Tarrion's despair and know what has happened. Alas, the Physician can have no help from us in his hour of need. Turn to the task at hand, my lords and ladies, for justice will be meted out this eve." He then 'looked' to Galtreth. "You have words of import upon your lips, most stalwart of Rhiannon, but they must wait 'till later this night. If we survive, they shall be heard, if not from your lips then from mine."

The priest went down on one knee and bowed his head. "As his grace wishes," and then stood to step to one side, silent.

Arthur knew that this exchange was his cue and he gently released his lover to take a step forward towards the guards. In a loud voice he spoke. "Those of you who are not of Masant stand to one side. You will speak words of fealty later, but know that in our company is one of the First Born who can read the hearts of men."

Celimdol squard his shoulders at that and looked as grim as Arthur felt.

A large minority stepped aside and were taken by a few of the templers towards the nearest of Gallantine's gates.

"You of Masant can leave for your city this night. If you are found within Gallantine within the hour then you are our enemy. Go, but one named Nicandes will stay behind."

A few templers of Rhiannon started to herd the dejected city gaurds towards Rivergate and left one, snearing man behind. "So, 'Prince' Arthur, we meet again."

Arthur felt an urge to bury his fist into the sneering face as he remembered the broken body of Gethin ap Gethin's kin, but just barely controlled himself. "Your crimes are many," he whispered, but his voice grew as he spoke on. "The murder of a loyal servant of Nodens and also the imprisonement of the Lady Arainwen."

The priestess of Dianchetch turned away from them, her face hot with shame. "He did more than that, my lord. A virgin I am no more."

Rane looked at her with concern mixed with horror and, on seeing his reaction she cried out aloud and fled from the scene. The young horse lord was about to follow, but with an upheld hand Arthur stopped him. "Let the Lady Myfanwy go to her," the lore master nodded once and went after the stricken cleric, "It's for the best, Rane."

The young prince bit at his lower lip with indecision and finally relented, content in glowering in the direction of Nicandes.

It was at this time that Petros came to them, armoured in light leathers of a red hue and sporting a long sword at his hip. Arthur smiled and made to nod in his son's direction, but the gangly youth pointedly ignored him and stared at the watch captain instead. For some reason Arthur felt the rejection like a blow to the stomach and he just noticed Merlin clip his son's head in annoyance. The youth scowled and stepped to one side, out of reach.

"Trouble with your pathetic family, Arthur? Want me to break in your boy like I fucked Sol over there? He squealed like a pig as I opened wide his shit hole. His flesh felt good and tight around my cock. That was before I popped his eyes out, of course."

"You have no hold over me," said the Staffwielder calmly. "I just pity for the fate you are about to endure."

Nicandes snorted at that as Arthur, anger fueling his body, stepped forward to an inch of the fallen captain. "What is the punishment for this bastard's crimes," he growled.

"Beheading, my lord," answered the scarred leader of Rhiannon's templers.

"Or I can opt for trial by combat," sneered the captain, finishing his sentence with a phlemhy spit into Arthur's face. The blond gave no reaction as those around cried out in indignation.

"Let me by your right arm in despatching this filth, fellow Brewer," said Cynan quietly as he drew his swords. Arthur noticed Celimdol and Rane do the same.

"Arthur," shouted out Owain, "he has challenged me and it is my office to answer it."

The Warrior of Nodens took a step back and unsheathed Gilgaled while he smiled grimly at his friends. "I will pass judgement on this evil one, if he so wishes, but thanks for the support."

"My lord prince," piped up Petros while he unsheathed a new, bright-steel sword (where had he got that from?), "let me prove myself and whet my blade on this dude. If you call me son, then I demand you give me this honour, my chance to become a man."

To Arthur's mind came an image of Petros, broken and defeated by the experienced hand of Nicandes and he gulped back the emotion and horror that threatened to overwhelm him. "Stand down, Petros." The youth narrowed his eyes in defiance. "I SAID FUCKING STAND DOWN!"

With a sharpness, Petros slammed his sword into its sheath and glared angrily at his father. "I hate you," he whispered and it seemed that only Arthur had heard him.

"I'll need a sword, cunt," said a now serious Nicandes.

With one thunderous look from Arthur towards the scarred templer, the captain was given a weapon. The fight was a short one. In the blond's first step, Arthur had castrated the bastard. By the time he had taken his second, the sneering head was bouncing along the icy cobbles as the body crumpled to the ground.

It was then that several horns could be heard from the northern section of the city's walls.

"Velshna's army attacks!" shouted Rane and they all rushed to defend Gallantine.

Arthur was dimly aware that, as his adopted son joined the ranks of the defenders, Sol 'accidentally' tripped him up and then helped the youth to his feet with a firm grip on his elbow. The two (the hatchling struggling against the direction) headed towards the pavilion.

"Good," whispered a relieved Arthur and caught Merlin's grin. Although his innards churned when he caught a glimpse of the dead Nicades, the blond returned the smile, for his lover's sake.

A Dark Day: Galla, The Mother

Morgana ran to get to the top of the walls, as did the others. By the seventh step she felt a great weariness. By the eleventh her vision dimmed and she could just make out the worried shout of concern from her lover, Leon, then her head cradled in his lap.

With a gasp that felt as if it was her last, she whispered, "Stay by my brother's side. I'm being summoned."

All faded to black.

She was on a ridge of rocky land, dark basalt cliffs that seperated the relatively calm waters of a gigantuan lake and the rough waters of the open sea. About ten paces away stood a tall, straight backed woman dressed in pale-blue silks, barefoot and with wild tangled hair the colour of sea-green. The spirit was facing south, away from the seer as Morgana cautiously stepped closer.

"Why am I here?"

The figure slowly turned and the seer saw a face heavily lined with age, eyes of the deepest green and a small smile gracing her pale lips. "My son said that you have courage." Her voice was strong and clear and yet gentle. "I am not disapointed."

Morgana thought back to the time when she had come across the river spirit called Callimdos, just before the Crystal Bridge had been created. The Lady Galla, for it could have been no-one else, glanced down at the two sheathed short swords that the seer wore.

"Weapons of the fallen First Born. Be warned, daughter, the avatar who bears the Staff of Chaos and Evil has just entered Draconis Terra, but I did not summon you for that reason."

The seer chewed at her lower lip. The spirit had mentioned an avatar named Emperor Koshgren, a Staffwielder who had an apetite for souls. It was he and his army who had killed many Brewers, consumed a soul of an elf, and tortured and nearly killed Merlin.

The lake spirit came closer and gently brushed away a strand of black hair from Morgana's face. Her smile broadened. "Do not be troubled so, for I also detect the struggle of a bright soul who refuses to be cowed and will make that Staffwielder's visit a short one. Walk with me."

Lady Galla tuurned away then and Morgana shook her head to clear the confusion to match her steps with that of the spirit.

"It is always darkest before the dawn and it will get very dark indeed," she said as they continued to walk and then fell silent for several minutes. The only sound came from the distant boom of waves and the mournfall cry of gulls overhead. "Despite this, you must not travel with Prince Arthur when he departs, for you will stay close to my waters and use the powers that we give you. When the Song is about to be finally sung, you will know how to use them."

Arthur will leave them? Morgana grew worried at this and made to speak, but the old spirit raised her hand and stopped walking. Before them was a staff of blue crystal topped by a clear, fist-sized diamond. It was upright and seemed to float in the air a few feet above the basalt rock.

"I have had this minor Staff of Power for many an eon and it is named Stormstaff by some, the Staff of Lightning by others, but I think it is now the time for it to be wielded. However, it is said they choose the wielder and not the other way round."

Morgana was shocked. Could she become a Staffwielder? Did she want to? It would give her responsibilities that would take her away from the Buckland Brewers, away from Leon. A gentle laugh brought her thoughts back to the spirit beside her.

"Nay, Lady of the Lake, the streams of time have given me visions of possible futures concerning you and none of them involve this particular gods-wrought artifact." She gave a small wave of her hand and the Staff faded from view. "There, I have placed it in the hands of the Lady of the Stars, for she will have need of it if you all survive the dark day that is coming. My conversation with the Lady Anharadeth is drawing to a close, as is this one. Have courage Morgana, for the nature spirits of this world howl with anger at this Age of Ice and will do all we can to break it."

The scene around Morgana changed and she abruptly found herself in the lap of her lover. She lifted her head and saw Anharadeth stand, the crystal Stormstaff in her hand, wonder on her face. Her other staff was nowhere in sight. The two exchanged a glance and smiled.

"Morgana?"

The seer kissed Leon and then brushed off his help when she also stood. "What are you doing here, you idiot? There's a city to save," and she ran up the remaining stone steps, smiling as she heard her Leon curse in exasperation. He scrambled to keep up with her and gave a peck on her cheek when they reached Arthur and Merlin's side. She smiled away his look of concern and then glanced at the stone circle beside the white tower.

A ball of dark-blue light hovered above a lone figure in the middle of the stones who was hooded in a grey robe with a black rowan staff in one hand. Even at this distance she could only see the lower half of of his face; the red skin and the white fangs. Merlin gave a cry of despair and she put an encouraging hand on his shoulder.

"Don't worry, we won't allow Koshgren to imprison you a second time."

A few paces from the Dark Emporer stood a boy with ebony skin and silver hair; Bask. The two seemed to be arguing, despite the horde of giants and goblins that stormed around them to get at the walls. Horns were blown from the Rivergate to the east.

"I'll go," said Anharadeth and, after his inital surprise on seeing her new staff, Arthur nodded once.

"Take a runner with you."

The lore master smiled and glanced at Oakhaven. "I have no need."

The old man bowed his head briskly as he nonchelantly waved his staff to sweep aside a large, giant thrown boulder. Oakhaven then laughed and cast great globes of emerald lights over the oncoming army. Rane saw his cue. "My brothers, fire at will."

Morgana heard the thrum of bow strings and a great number of goblins fell to the ground. The giants continued to throw boulders, mostly at Northgate, and Oakhaven contiued to sweep them aside (a few were cast back at their throwers, but to little effect).

As Arthur unsheathed Gilgalad, Merlin raised both his arms and lightning danced between his two hands. He them shot a huge bolt at Koshgren. Just in time, the Dark Emporer put up a grey shield of power.

"That stopped their arguing," muttered Morgana wryly. A thin bolt of shadow sped back in response and just missed Merlin's head as the seer dragged him down. "You okay?"

Merlin gulped and let out a breath. "Yeah."

"Stop prancing about, Merlin. We've got a city to save." Arthur parried a black arrow that was heading for his runner, a mousy-haired girl of about twelve.

"Fuck off," said the Apprentise, laughing, and stood back up. He raised his arms a second time, but no lightning appeared. Instead a blue, translucent light poured from them to form a barrier in front of the dozen defenders around him. It continued to pour down and protect the platinum veined walls. It then slowly started to widen.

"Good idea," shouted Oakhaven and he shapechanged into a robin and flew towards Eastgate to do the same as Galtreth grunted his approval.

"May the love of Rhiannon, let her recovery come swiftly, protect this holy city," he said as blue light streamed from his war hammer and joined with the others. A similar shield started to form around Rivergate and widened until all the walls of Gallantine were eventually protected.

Ambrose bit into his thumb and flicked some precious vitae towards the barrier, all the while as he chanted ancient words of power that resembled Old English. In answer to a questioning look from Morgana he nodded his head towards the army of goblins. "Just a precaution."

The seer followed his gaze and saw dead bodies stir and started to akwardly stand. Even a couple of giants corpses did the same. The seer assumed it was the work of Koshgren. She then turned her attention back at the two ancient Powers at the stone circle. They had resumed their arguing.

"Well done, lover," said Arthur and gave Merlin a wink.

"Thanks. It'll last about an hour and I doubt we'll be able to do it again. Still, it buys us some time. Let's go back to the tent and rest up."

"No," said Morgana quietly. "Something's about to happen, I can feel it."

Myfanwy closed her eyes and nodded her head.

Gwen did the same. "Not immediate danger, but...something."

What are you two up to now? Morgana thought as she continued to stare at the two avatars, the boy and the hooded one.

A Dark Day: The Soul Prison

The naked elf knelt in a field of twilight that had no end. Numerous shapes ran or walked passed him, all wailing in despair, anger and anguish. He simply had his arms crossed over his chest in serenity and brought images of the happy times he had had with his brethren to the fore of his mind.

At first, many many days (years? Eons?) ago he would try and remember how he had got to this evil place. He had been on a dead world, restrained by powerful arms as a creature with a jackel's head had closed its jaws around his throat. The pain had stayed with the elf, but he had pushed those feelings aside, contained them.

Even though his own name escaped him, he could remember others and they comforted him. Myfanwy his sister, Aneirin his brother and...Arthur, his blade-brother. Their faces gave him courage, gave him strength and the elf continued to kneel; an island of peace in a sea of chaos.

What was his name? He banked down the frustration when the answer to that question did not come to him.

The image of a elf lady in white with golden hair suddenly stood before him and smiled. "Your strength is great, but it is not only of muscle. Lothlorien was blessed to have you as her champion. Know that the One Ring is destroyed, most faithful Brewer, and Arda changes but not before I travel to the Western Shores with the last ring bearer."

The elf stood, but did not try and cover his shame as some mortals would. That was not the way of the First Born. "Am I in a dream, a nightmare? Lady...lady..." he widened his eyes in shock and went down on one knee. "The Lady Gilladril," he whispered in awe.

She laughed gently and it strengthened his resolve even more as his heart was uplifted in joy. With one hand she cupped his jaw and raised his head and he saw the love in her smile. She then bade him to stand. "Perhaps it is a dream and you have conjured me in your hour of need, but then perhaps it is something more." She looked around at the screaming images of men, dwarves and creatures he did not recognise. "You can set them free so that they may finally come to rest. However, there will be no rest for you."

The image started to fade and she raised a hand in farewell.

The elf felt tears fall down his cheeks and he brushed back red-gold hair from his face. "My lady? How am I named?"

Only her voice was left as she whispered, "Beloved of Lorien, you know that already."

He sobbed, once more alone. Then he took in a deep breath and started to walk forward and the anguished souls parted before him. Eventually he stopped and concentrated hard. A door of light appeared in front of him and he smiled.

"I am the Champion of Lothlorien, Champion of the Buckland Brewers. I am Gilladrin Caerillion, Half-Elf."

He walked forward into the light and he heard the sighs of gratitude from a multitude of souls behind him before they suddenly became silent.

The elf was now in a shadowed corridor that was lined with wooden benches. The air was dry and reminded Gilladrin of an ancient library. He attention was caught by the figure of an elf robed in grey who sat on one of the benches.

"So I have arrived in the Halls of the Dead, Lord Mandos?" The figure slowly nodded his head once and stood to place himself a few feet away from the naked elf. "Then I am content and wait for the Final Days to rejoin my brethren in the Uttermost West."

Gilladrin could not be sure, but he thought he saw a trace of a smile on the ancient being before him. Mandos stepped close and kissed his cheek. With a dry voice hoarse from lack of use, he whispered "I hope you can swim."

The champion suddenly found himself falling from a great height towards a large body of water. He quickly gathered his wits and expertly executed a perfect dive. It was cold, even for an elf. He came up for air and tread water. About a league to the north he saw an icy shore and a city beyond it that had walls of white. A blue, shimmering shield protected them. With resolve he swam torwards the ice and soon pulled himself up onto the sheet of white. He clamped his jaw together to stop his teeth from chatterring and jogged towards a group of figures clothed in pale, woolen robes. A few were stabbing at the ice with bolts of lightning, but stopped at his approach.

"By the venerable Math!" exclaimed a young girl. "Are you a water spirit?" Rather belatedly, she slightly averted her gaze from viewing his crotch and he knew a wry smile came to his lips.

Then he pondered on the name she had uttered; Math. Gilladrin knew that Merlin was his Apprentise, but he still did not know where he was. "Nay, young lady, I am an elf and new to your world. There are two things I would have from you, if you would be so kind. Where am I and do you have any spare clothes. Preferably armour of steel but hunting leathers will do."

As other youths started to crowd about them, some not so coy in checking out his muscled body, she turned and steadfastedly stared into his face. "My...my lord, you are in the city of Gallantine and I am sure that my master, High Priest Denir of Math, will be able to get you some apparel."

"No need for that," said a newcomer and the acolytes parted for him to come near. He was dressed in worn hunting leathers and sported a dagger at his hip, had long dark-brown hair and an amused smile. The stranger looked the elf up and down slowly. "Nice."

Gilladrin raised his eyebrows and the newcomer bowed his head briefly, his hand never straying too far from his weapon. "Mac Oc, by some, Mabon by most. At your service, Lord...?"

"I am Gilladrin Half-Elf, Champion of the Buckland Brewers, if that name has any meaning here."

Mabon looked surprised and his smile grew. "It does indeed. Come, let me, er, acquire some clothes for you and then present you to the others. Black, I think, to highlight your hair and beautiful blue eyes."

They both started to walk towards the nearest building which looked like a warehouse and one of the young men from the knot of acolytes whistled low in appreciation at the sight of the elf's buttocks.

Mabon laughed out loud and slapped the champion on the shoulder as Gilladrin chuckled. He liked this man.

A Dark Day: A Very, Very Short Visit

Bask ground his teeth togther in anger and approached the circle of man high stones. The dragon in boy form stared at the newcomer to Draconis Terra.

"You are not wanted, Koshgren. The Dark has no use of you here. Why, your mere presence could be the excuse the Light needs to..."

"Are you always this dramatic when using this particular avatar, Bask?" came the low pitched interruption. The cowled Emporer smiled.

The dragon had to remind himself that before him was not only an avatar of a fellow ancient power, but also a major Staffwielder. He inwardly counted to twenty, slowly. He then put on his own false smile, but started to pace to and fro as was his want when he was agitated. "If any are to devastate my homeworld, it will be me, Staffwielder. However, myself and Velshna have things under control and will win a great victory for the Dark soon. Krill may have been defeated, but we also have two other minor Staffwielders of the Dark with us; the staves of Poison and Beserk."

Koshgren was not impressed and he grunted his disapproval. "Your alliance is against the Runestaff..."

Bask snorted.

"...the Staff of Good and Law..."

"Tarrion's avatar is old and weak."

"...Naturestaff..."

"The Druid is a meddlesome insect, nothing more."

Koshgren turned to Gallantine's battlements and smiled once more. "...and a newcomer; the Stormstaff."

Bask hid his surprise at that piece of information. He expanded his senses to the battlements and detected the female. "She is new to her stewardship..."

"But not new to the use of magic. The lore master of Arda will find her feet and soon."

Suddenly a great bolt of lightning was headed straight for Koshgren, but the ancient already had a shield of shadow erected and the deadly energy was absorbed. With a casual wave of his hand, a bolt of shadow was sent back. Bask could see that it just missed Merlin's head.

"The Apprentise has grown in power," said Koshgren, still grinning. "How delicious."

A barrier of light started to form over Gallantine's defenses and both of the ancient's looked at each other. In unison they shrugged.

As the Staffwielder casually waved an arm in the direction of the walls before him and dead bodies that littered the frost-hard ground started to stir, Bask noticed that the jewel atop the Shadowstaff began to flicker. The dragon's interest was piqued and the beginings of a smile started to show.

"It seems that some of your souls have decided that they have had enough of your hospitality, Koshgren."

The ancient of Chaos staggered a step back, then righted himself. "I...I have urgent business to do with my empire," and motes of white lights started to swirl about himself and the monoliths.

The silver haired boy stepped away from the node of power and laughed out loud. "Good riddence," he said when the lights and Koshgren had faded away and he finished with a spit at the ground where the Staffwielder of Chaos and Evil had once stood. The acidic spittal sizzled against a few blades of grass, but Bask had not noticed for he had already started to walk through the vast army back to Velshna's tent. The attack that night against Gallantine was only a test of the city's defences; the real battle would start later.

A Dark Day: The Damaged Healer, The Troubled Youth and The New Arrival

Tarrion Caerillion was nowhere to be seen. Still, Myfanwy put that thought aside and sat quietly as Arianwen's sobs subsided. Eventually the cleric of Dianchecht pulled back the hood of her cloak and straightened her hair.

"You must think me weak, my lady." The words were soft, defeated, laced with dejection.

"Not so, my sister in healing."

Arianwen gave a small smile at that and sat down next to the First Born. "My training has allowed me to put aside the evil memories of what I have recently endured, but the reaction of Prince Rane...I...I..."

Myfanwy placed a gentle hand on the mortal's shoulder and then embraced her. After a sisterly kiss upon her cheek, the elf lifted the head with a hand cupped under the cleric's chin. The lore master smiled. "Rane is but of twenty summers, is my reckoning, but has a heart of courage and is full of love. However, he has yet to master his feelings and not let them show on his face. What I saw was not revulsion on his visage when the crime against you was revealed, but one of shock and outrage."

She stood and brought Arianwen to her feet. "Time is short and I think we may soon have to use our healing craft on a young man, but I would impart some knowledge first. 'Tis true that my lord's brother, Celimdol, has some power in reading the hearts of Men, though my twin had the greater skill..." Myfanwy thought of her dead brother, Gilladrin, whose soul had been cruelly consumed by an evil Staffwielder and her loss must have showed on her face for the cleric gripped her hands in comfort. Myfanwy gently chuckled. "Who gives courage to who I wonder? Nay, all I have to say is this; that I have read the young prince's face and see much of the love he has for you. Speak to him, my lady, and let his love give you strength, for I have seen that you will give back in return. He will need that, before the end."

Arianwen nodded her head slowly. "I will speak with Rane and let him know that his love is returned a thousand times over. And I thank you, Lady Myfanwy, I thank you so much for the support and wisdom you have given me."

The lore master smiled and gave another brief hug before she led the healing cleric just passed the silk partition to Arthur and Merlin's room, with a gap to observe the empty space they had left behind. She held a finger to her lips and the two women were silent. Seconds later Sol dragged a protesting Petros into the area of silk cushions and rich carpet, the colour of gold and garnet.

"I want to fight, dude! I want to prove myself and no Staffwielder of Knowledge is going to stop me." Petros made to leave, but Sol stood in his way, a serene look on his countenance, but his stance gave the impression of an unmovable rock. "Fucking get out of fucking the way you fucking blind bastard!" As the young Librarian raised his eyebrows, Petros stepped back in shock. "I...I'm sorry. I didn't...I mean I...oh shit!"

Sol sighed and sat down on one of the cushions. "Come, sit with me awhile, for words must be spoken between you and I. Others will also have their imput eventually, of that I am sure," he finished with a small upcurve of his lips and a glance in Myfanwy's direction.

Petros looked once at the now unblocked entrance to the outside and the battle on Gallantine's walls and then his shoulders slumped as he stood uncertain in front of the Staffwielder, who was only a few years older than himelf. "I really am sorry, Sol. Please don't tell father I swore. I remember everything now; how I was a hatchling on earth for nearly four hundred years, how I met Dad and Da, how I died saving them...Before I was adopted by them I was so jealous of others who had a family. I was so lonely, but then I found them and you don't know how that made me feel even though I was a seven year old sprog. Now I've made Dad angry and I've acted like a dick! But I want to prove myself, be a warrior like my dads."

Sol nodded in understanding, for Myfanwy correctly surmised that a mere touch would bring the boy all the knowledge that was needed. "Sit I say, for time is short for all of us. A dark day approaches when the fate of many worlds, of many peoples will be decided and you think your pride is important in all of this?" A mild rebuke and a chastised Petros sat next to him. Sol's voice took on far away, dreamy tone and the lore master recognised a powerful telling. "A dark day, a red day, a day of loss and grief and it will begin when the golden warrior will be consumed by ice and Gilgaled shatters and end...and end..."

Myfanwy stepped forward, Arainwen behind her. "And end when the Apprentise saves Gallantine, but he too may fall and then all will be for naught. The Dark will triumph if it does not go well according to the visions we have seen and continue to see. All must end with the Song. We must arrive at the Song, though details are short in the getting there."

Sol's staff disappeared, shrank to the size of a matchstick and he covered his face with his hands. "I'm cold, so cold. I fear the Song will be not sung, my lady. I fear my golden warrior will die needlessly and Merlin will also perish."

Petros started to sniff and his lower lip trembled.

The lore master placed a hand on Sol's shoulder in comfort and Arianwen sat next to the young hatchling to do the same.

"Father? Da? I don't want them to die. I...I love them." He cried into the preistess' embrace.

With one last squeeze of Sol's shoulder, Myfanwy stood. "Your love for them is strong, Petros, and they will have need of it. Remember, they battle the Dark because of you, for you. Never forget that, young one, and let there not be a rift between you and them in what may be their final hours." She turned then to the main doorway and curtseyed low. "My lord Prince Arthur."

Arthur came in, followed by most of the Buckland Brewers, Oakhaven and Rane. Petros, after he had wiped the tears from his eyes, ran into his father's arms and hugged him tightly. "I love you Dad. I don't want you eaten by ice or Da die. Ever. Please, please don't die."

The blond wrapped his arms around the boy and kissed the top of his son's white-gold head. "Hey, hey, we don't plan on going anywhere. Anharadeth has told me about her dreams of ice and stuff and I tell you what," he made his son look into his face, "Gilgalad has not let me down, ever. Sorry for being an idiot earlier, I think it's part of being a prince, and a blond." Merlin, who had come up and joined the hug, rolled his eyes. "And me and Da love you lots and don't you ever forget that young man."

Petros sniffed and nodded his head. "I won't, I promise. Ever." He hugged Arthur tightly once more and it was the boistrous entrance of Galtreth that finally made him be led away by Myfanwy to his cushion. When they were all settled and gave the warrior-priest his full attention, the tall man cleared his throat.

"Rhiannon, may her love reflect on all those before me, said that fire will combat ice." He turned to the horse lord. "Prince Rane, she mentioned that you know of and must retrieve the Sunstone."

The young man's face visably paled. "To Caersullion? It is a graveyard...my mother."

They all waited, not daring to speak, not even the priest of Rhiannon. Myfanwy saw the prince square his shoulders and take in a deep breath. "As the Lady wishes, I will go."

"As will I, my friend," said Arthur, "and I think the sooner the better."

Anharadeth and Myfanwy shared a look of understanding between them and the elf was not surprised when her sister in lore stood, the Stormstaff in hand. "I will come too, for I would have my waking dream thwarted at the very last."

Others in the room demanded to come with Arthur, even Petros, but Arthur laughed and held his hands out in a placating manner. "Someone has to defend the city, the Rose. Let the wielder of Runestaff decide."

Sol looked up and smiled weakly. "You will need courage and strength; I name Prince Cynan and Sir Gawain. And one more hunter you will need; I name Sir Leon. And..." he looked to the partition that opened up to the rest of Gallantine's holy garden and his smile broadened, "and you will need another of the First Born."

They all turned to see Mabon and Gilladrin come through the opening.

"Fucking hell!" whispered Merlin.

Myfanwy stood and hugged her twin. "Can it be?" she whispered through tears of joy and her brother laughed, lifting the hearts of all who heard him.

"Mabon has told me of what is happening and I am here to help. The halls of Mandos could not contain me for this battle." He winked at Morgana. "Keep my swords at your side, my lady, for they look better on you than on me. Now then, where do we travel?"

When it was explained what the mission was, Mabon grew concerned. "You will need me to protect Gilladrin, er, I mean Arthur. I insist!"

Merlin snorted. "Forget it. Math said to keep you from being reckless, so you're staying." Mabon frowned and stubbonly crossed his arms over his chest. "I'll time-stop you if I have to and then I won't have power left to defend Gallantine, so you'll take it and like it!"

Petros shrugged his shoulders. "Dude, it's no use when my Da is in this mood. Believe."

They all chuckled. At Mabon's expense.

A Dark Day: Farewells

Oakhaven smiled sadly as he witnessed lovers, fathers, friends, sisters and brothers say their farewells. Beside him stood the vampire Bedwyr, with Ambrose next to him. The one called Dorian Greyland was a little further off, stealing glances at a very young elf with midnight-black hair. The Lady Helen looked curiously at the handsome vampire and then engaged him in conversation. There was a sharp one.

"I should go with them," gruffly said the tall warrior.

"Ancient warrier, perhaps you should." Oakhaven raised an eyebrow in a challenge and yet grinned cheekily.

Both of Bedwyr's brows rose. "Three hours of night are left to us. Will I have time to make a difference?"

For a moment the Druid closed his eyes and the emerald atop his staff briefly glowed. "Dark is the place these youngsters go that not even foresight can penetrate. You might be going to your doom, for I fear the Dark knows of our plans. The White Bitch is not to be underestimated."

Bedwyr crossed his arms over his chest. "It is settled then. I will be going," he growled and turned his attention back to the little group.

Oakhaven assumed the sharp hearing of a bat and listened in on the conversations. Not to evesdrop, he thought to himself, but to record for prosperity.

* * *

"My lord will come back unharmed," stated Myfanwy, "and so will my brother."

Cynan bowed his head. "As my lady commands," he said without humour. Gilladrin slapped him on the back and laughed.

"Fear not, little sister_"

"_by a few moments only_"

"_your husband will come to no harm. A pity I missed your wedding, but celebrations a plenty will be had at a later time."

Myfanwy did not smile, but simply hugged them tightly in return, her husband last. Cynan looked to his brother-in-law and nodded once as he said, "I leave Merlin and all of the Buckland Brewers in your charge, my love." He knew she held back tears. "Not ice or fire or dark or light will stop me from coming back to you. The flame of your love will be my guide and I swear that all who go with me will return." He kissed her then, long and with much love and whispered, "On this I swear, for we have eternity on Middle Earth to look forward to as we guide the hearts of Man as best as we are able. No, that is not the reason I must come back." She looked at him, puzzled. "I will return because I love you so very, very much."

They embraced once more and Gilladrin smiled on, happy in their love. He noticed the youth Mabon to one side staring at him with furtive longing and decided to walk over. He bowed his head. "My lord."

"Gilladrin." The god in mortal form seemed to savour the name. "I never thought I would meet someone who would capture my heart so and yet here you are!" He lowered his tone. "Yet here you are, one who I have made love to and rejoiced in life so much that all other acts of coupling pale into insignificence."

The elf raised his brows and gave an uncertain smile.

"Nay, do not mistake me so. 'Twas not lust only that I felt, nor feel now. I...oh how a mortal heart confuses me so...I think I love you. You are more than my equal and such feelings that I hold make me shiver and hot at the same time." Mabon chuckled and put on a show of bravado. "Listen not to my stumbling words, for they come from a mortal's lips, from an uncertain heart."

There was a pool of silence between them, which Mabon eventually broke, his countenance serious for once. "Fogive me, my lord; we Celtae love life and I know the First Born do as well. Our tryst was nothing more than that and I crave your forgiveness in embarressing your good self. Just come back whole, for your sister's sake." He turned to leave, but the elf stopped him with the mention of the god's name.

"Oh sweet Mabon, you are a wonder. Never am I at a loss for words, but your declaration has caused it." He came close, within a few inches. "In all my many centuries I have not knit my heart to anyone, but now I know I could."

At that Mabon smiled and closed the gap between them. Tenderly did they kiss.

* * *

"Er, miss?"

Anharadeth was shaken from her thoughts about her love, Aneirin, and that she would never see him again. She looked down at the teen named Gilli and smiled, though she did not feel it in her heart. "May I help you, young one?"

"Erm, you will all be coming back, won't you? I mean, everyone seems to be saying their final goodbyes. I'm, er, kinda worried, is all."

"Gilli, I and others like me have fought against a Shadow of my own world and I have recently learnt that the One Ring has been destroyed. Be assured that we will also triumph here. Have courage and do what you can." The boy looked uncertain. "You think you have little to give? Remember, the smallest pebble can cause an avalanch. Be that pebble, do your best and you may even surprise yourself. Myself? I will not be surprised, for you are now a Brewer with all that entails. Honour is your guide, a stout heart is your shield. As Second Officer to the Buckland Brewers I recognise your worth and it is great indeed."

Gilli smiled at that and took in a deep breath, "Thank you, er, my lady. Thanks."

She pecked his cheek and his face went red. With mumbled excuses he bade his leave and the lore master turned back to her friends before her, as her thoughts turned back towards a certain gaurdian of Lothlorien.

* * *

Morgana's eyebrow was raised imperiously. "You die and I'll somehow get you ressurected so I can kill you myself!"

Leon smiled. "Then I better not die." He sighed then and took her in his arms. As she laid her head on his shoulder he whispered, "And you look after yourself, my princess; you lot back here will be in as much danger."

"You know what happens after a Dark Day," she whispered back. "The dawn comes next. My visions don't go beyond the end of the next day, so I don't know what to say that might help. You go to a very dark place, vision wise."

"Just look after Gwen and Lance. And Merlin. Most important of all, I want to see you unharmed when I get back. And I will come back, you better believe it!"

Morgana kissed his cheek then brushed with his lips with her own. After long moments, she broke the contact and stood back. "I'm so proud of you, lover."

Leon's heart soared.

* * *

Celimdol looked back at his lover as the lupine stood with restrained patience as he waited for Arthur and Merlin to disentangle themselves from their embrace. The young elf sighed; could this be last time he set his eyes on Gawain?

They had said their goodbyes before they had left the pavilion, the last to leave the house of silks. Celimdol now noticed out of the corner of his eye that the templers of Rhiannon were dismantling it on the orders of the Lady Gwen, for she said it could become a fire risk in the hours ahead. The elf trusted her judgement. A discrete cough behind him made him turn.

Dorian Greyland stood uncertainly before him.

"My lord," said Celimdol with a nod of his head.

"Celimdol." The vampire seemed to savour the name and looked directly into the youth's steel-grey eyes. "Know that I will not become between you and Gawain, not that I could. However, I cannot stop loving you and, with what little power I have, will protect you untill the last of my vitae is used up."

Celimdol sensed his lover come up behind him and put a possesive arm around his waist. He knew that Gawain, his hearing ever sharp, had heard everything. "I thank you Dorian, but have a thought for the healers, for they will need protecting." The elf smiled at the thought that his older brother, who had said something similar concerning Merlin. He had already shared a look with Cynan in farewell; that was all that was needed in farewell between the two siblings.

"That I will and gladly," Dorian nodded his head in salute to Gawain and left to stand next to the Lady Helen once more. The lupine growled deep within his chest and Celimdol chuckled.

The air grew sombre then between them. Eventually, Gawain said, "It's been a good journey, lover."

The elf held back tears and gently cleared a throat thick with emotion. He grasped the Brewrs hands in his own and gave them an affectionate squeeze. "Be strong for me, Gawain, for I would not have it end yet."

Gawain simply smiled and then silently left to rejoin Arthur and Merlin, who had broken their embrace. It was only then that the young elf let the tears fall silently down his cheeks.

* * *

Rane gulped. They stood apart from the others, near Northgate and the young man's throat had suddenly gone dry. "My lady," he began, "you would have words with me?"

Arianwen gave a small curtsey. "My lord. Forgive my lack of control at the execution of that vile Nicandes. I would have us depart as friends."

The horse lord felt stricken to his very heart. This beautiful lady viewed him only as a friend, nothing more? "Sweet Arianwen, nothing you do can mar my...my...love for you. Yes, love I say for that is what my heart holds for one so beautiful as you. Laugh if you must, for what has a mere nomad have to offer a fine lady of Gallantine?" He knelt on both knees and bowed his head, ready for any deserved scorn for his presumptiousness. He felt his face burning as a gentle hand cupped his cheek. He lifted his head and saw a smile that made his heart leap.

"Know that you your love is not spent fruitlessly. No nomad do I see, but a warrior of noble heart that far outweighs that of Prince Arthur's himself."

He got to his feet and smiled, still unsure. "Sadly do I know that your father is no longer with us and I am sorry for the pain that such memories now come back to you, but I would ask you to name a surrogate for me to approach later?"

Arianwen nodded her head slowly. "Staffwileder Oakhaven you may appraoch on my behalf, good prince, and ask permission to court me."

Rane's heart nearly burst at those words and he grinned. "My lady? May I be so bold as to kiss your hand?"

The priestess of Dianchecht raised her arm towards him. "You may."

He took the offfered hand and gently brushed his lips against the snowdrop-white knuckles. Then he reluctantly stepped back and bowed low. "Until we meet agin, fair lady."

She curtseyed once more. "I look forward to the hour, my prince."

His heart soaring, Rane went to rejoin the main group.

* * *

"You do know I fucking love you to bits, don't you?" whispered Merlin into Arthur's ear.

"Ditto."

"And there's no fucking dying on me, again."

"Ditto, again."

And...you've got clean underwear on, right?"

Arthur barked a laugh and pulled back slightly, but still reluctant to let go of his lover. "You're such a girl, Merlin."

The mage poked his tongue out and they both smiled when they heard their son sigh, loudly.

"Dudes, it's not fair! I need a girl so I can do all this hugging stuff as well. I feel left out!"

Merlin rolled his eyes. "Great, we have a straight son."

It was the hatchling's turn to roll his eyes.

Arthur ruffled his son's hair, which annoyed the youth, so he ruffled it again. "When I get back, and I will, we've got to have a talk about the birds and the bees." Arthur saw his lover stifle a laugh and the blond did the same.

Petros, his face beetroot, simply hissed "Dad!" and coughed, embrarrassed. "Yeah, well, come back, okay?"

The blond became serious and freed an arm to take hold of his son's hand. Merlin took the other and they stood there in a silence of understanding and love.

Eventually Merlin said, "Go get that Sunstone, lover." With that, Arthur smiled and reluctantly let go of his family to join Gawain and the others.

Merlin looked longingly at the blond's back and then he felt his hand being squeesed in comfort. "Don't worry, Da. I'll protect you."

"Ta, son, but I want you to protect the White Rose with Owain." Merlin knew that the garden was the safest place in the city and he wanted his son there. "Can you do that for me? And use that new sword of yours if you have to."

Petros briefly hugged him. "Thanks Da, you're so cool," and then he ran off to go back into the garden.

Merlin let out a deep sigh. At least that was one less worry.

* * *

Oakhaven stamped his staff once upon the ice-rimmed flagstones of the main square outside the holy garden and drew everyone's eyes. He surveyed those who were about to leave Gallantine and nodded once, as if pleased with what he saw. He brought a hand out from the folds of his robes and they saw a simple acorn in his palm. Without any further ado, the Druid threw the seed down and there instantly appeared a mature oak tree, its branches full of green leaves.

"Go now through the tree and you'll end up by a similar oak a mile from Twr Caersullien. Remember that it is only a one way door, for you."

Arthur nodded his understanding and led the little group into the tree and then they had gone. As fat, lazy flakes started to fall about them, Oakhaven addressed the ones who had been left behind. "Although still night, the dark day fast approaches. To the walls, warriors of all free people." He looked up into the grey clouds and practically snarled his anger. "A flight it is then. A great flight of dragons. Have courage I say, have strength. Defend the walls of Gallantine! Defend the White Rose!"

As Merlin rushed to the battlements above Northgate, followed by Galtreth, Celimdol, Helen and Lance, the Staffwielder walked over to Ambrose and placed his hand upon the vampire's head. A glow of emerald light briefly engulfed the two.

"I have given you protection from the sun's rays for much of tomorrow," he said after a few laboured breaths. "I had thought to protect Bedwyr with this, but perhaps this choice is the better one. Go to Sir Owain and protect the Rose. A visitor there will be soon and pray that it will be enough. Greyland, to the temple of Nodens and defend the healers as much as you are able. Both of you, go now!"

Without seeing if the two vampires obeyed, Oakhaven ran to catch up with Merlin as the beating of many wings and the reptilian roars from many throats filled the air.

A great flight of dragons indeed.