Fic: Trembling on the Edge (4/?)
Title: Trembling on the Edge (Chapter 4)
Author: dk323
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 6,225
Characters/Pairings: Merlin/Arthur, Lancelot/Gwen, Will Stanton, Bran Davies, Mordred, Freya, OC
Warnings: Character death (off-screen; not Merlin or Arthur), unsettling scenes, swearing
Disclaimer: The show Merlin is property of the BBC. The Dark Is Rising book series is property of Susan Cooper. Some elements inspired by the 2010 film, “Never Let Me Go.”
Summary: As darkness descends, six people come together to save the world. Nothing will ever be the same again.
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3
Chapter 4: Not all is as it seems with Mordred. A secret is kept. Meanwhile, a troubled Arthur continues to face the consequences of his meeting with the Black Rider.
Arthur, Gwen and Lancelot go to retrieve Excalibur from the Dark’s stronghold.
Author’s Note: Mordred’s middle name is Gwydion, and he sometimes goes by that name. Gwydion is another name for Mordred in Arthurian legend either way…I believe it was another name for King Arthur too.
~ * ~
I am a spear that roars for blood,
From the Irish verse, Song of Amergin, as translated by Robert Graves
~ * ~
Chapter 4: Mordred’s Lullaby ~
“Hey. Welcome back,” Arthur said to Merlin.
Merlin was in the midst of putting food and drinks away in the refrigerator. He paused, turning around to face Arthur when he spoke.
He looked happy to see Arthur. “Hi, thanks. Yeah, I’m back. Never thought I’d get a chance to time travel. Will brought us back and Bran looked like he wanted to talk to him about something important. I have a bad feeling about it…something must have happened to Bran when we split up. And Bran wouldn’t tell me what it was,” Merlin said, sounding a bit anxious, biting his lip.
“I’m sure whatever it is, Will knows how to handle it,” Arthur assured him.
Arthur was horrified when his gaze shifted to Merlin’s neck, and he could hear the blood. Merlin’s blood as it pulsed through his body. He tried his best to suppress this sudden inclination, to want to press his lips, sink his teeth into Merlin’s neck, but it was hard. Damn it. He did not need this right now.
Merlin looked at Arthur strangely. “Arthur? Are you all right?”
“Just don’t move,” Arthur said softly. He breathed in and out in an attempt to relax himself.
“What? I don’t understand,” Merlin said, confused.
Arthur moved closer to him, and then he kissed him feather light on the lips. He went down lower, to Merlin’s neck and he felt a desperate want to bite him there. To leave a bite mark that everyone could see. So that everyone would know… a mark that wouldn’t fade for a long time.
“I just wanted to say hello,” Arthur told him.
Merlin smiled, accepting, at him. “All right,” he acknowledged. He then coursed both of his hands through Arthur’s blond locks as Arthur continued to kiss him.
Then Arthur sucked on his neck, his teeth skimming against the pale skin. Only Merlin’s abrupt cry of surprise made him pull back. Arthur realized that he had broken the skin, a small bit of blood welled up on Merlin’s neck, blemishing the pale surface.
Merlin put his fingers over the offending spot on his neck. He was mildly alarmed to see blood smeared on his fingers.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know how that happened. I’ll get a bandage or something for you… I didn’t mean to,” Arthur said hurriedly. He left the kitchen, unwilling to remain in close proximity to Merlin.
As Arthur departed in a rush, Merlin stared after him with a puzzled expression. What was going on with Arthur?
~ * ~
“And Mordred healed you?” Will asked.
The two of them were sitting cross-legged across from each other on the bed. Will held Bran’s hand in his own, observing his palm. He traced one finger over his open hand along a now non-existent wound.
“Yes, but I’m sure he only did it so no one would ask questions. I did tell him I would tell you, yet--” He paused, shrugging.
“It doesn’t make sense that he would heal someone he’s meant to hate, to view as the enemy,” Will pointed out calmly. He let go of Bran’s hand.
“Yes, but I told you. Mordred did act weirdly with me. He called me a freak and he touched me…” Bran argued defensively.
Will sighed. “When you first met me, you told me what others called you at school. I don’t like that you have to deal with that, but no matter where Mordred’s allegiances lie…”
Bran looked incredulous. “He’s still our age, so what - I’m supposed to take him like one of the boys at school who insult me?”
“It’s cruel, yes, but it could be as simple as that. At the end of the day, he’s just a 13-year old boy trying to figure things out. And it’s natural that he’s inclined to hate you. Maybe Mordred was trying to unnerve you to make himself feel better. From what you told me, the contact didn’t seem like anything more than making you uncomfortable.”
“What is it? What do you know?” Bran ventured. “Why are you trying to defend Mordred? The Black Rider most likely raised him. He’s a creature of the Dark.”
“Mordred healing you helps to prove that he’s more of a grey area. Those of the Dark don’t heal using magic, or they don’t make a habit of it. Healing is a kinder magic, something that the Dark doesn’t favour. For him to use healing magic on you, an enemy of his…is a rare almost unheard of event. In a way, he was almost nice to you…” Will suggested thoughtfully.
“Seriously?” Bran said in disbelief. “His mother shot and killed you, which I’m still not happy about. Any son of hers can’t be trusted!” He declared fiercely.
“You forget who his father is,” Will reminded him gently.
Bran huffed. “Straight out of an Arthurian text, Arthur gets tricked into having relations with a dark sorceress…with a modern twist,” he remarked dismissively. “Did Merriman tell you anything?”
Will nodded. “Merriman’s urgent business involved Mordred. He found out that Mordred’s mother was taken 13 years into the past thanks to the Dark. She carried her child for nine months there. Not long after Mordred was born, Morgana died. The belief was that Mordred’s magic was so powerful that the cost of giving birth to such a child was a heavy one.”
“Considering what she did to you, I don’t know if I feel too sorry about her dying,” Bran remarked frankly.
Will looked particularly weary then. He seemed to carry a burden meant for a much older man. “She was manipulated by the Dark. She was a victim as a result, but due to her past life as a sorceress of dark magic, Morgana did have that inclination to side with the likes of the Dark. Still, Mordred knows why his mother died, that his coming into the world caused her death. It's an awful thing to live with,” he said grimly.
After a long moment of silence, Bran finally said, “I still feel like punching Mordred,” he decided.
“That’s what your instincts are telling you, but like it or not, Merriman told me that Mordred is the key.” Will stated resolutely.
“The key to what?”
“To the Light having a bigger chance of winning. There are the other factors to consider, as you know, but Mordred’s aid would be a great advantage to us. His magic is unlike anything we’ve seen before,” Will confided in him. “Not even Merlin will be able to possess that sort of magic in this life. We also need to make sure Arthur and the others remain unaware of Mordred’s existence. It’s not right to keep this secret; but we need to tread lightly now.”
“You have to be joking! Mordred might as well be called Lucifer. He’d never aid the Light,” Bran argued in outrage.
“I told you, Bran. Mordred is a grey area. And while Mordred’s mother may have worked for the Dark, his father is a good man at the heart of it. A child borne of the Dark and the Light… he could be swayed to either side. Even if Mordred’s been raised by the Dark, we can't dismiss him so easily,” Will said.
Bran groaned. “This is bollocks,” he muttered.
Will gave him a small smile, grasping his shoulder in an attempt at comforting him.
Bran lay back down on the bed while Will shifted position so that he sat beside him. “What do you think he needed my blood for?” Bran wondered. “There are a lot of things blood could be used for, right? A lot of dark magic rituals and the like…”
“Since the Dark knows we need to get Excalibur… maybe he took some of your blood to go toward hindering our success there. We will see. I’m planning to give Arthur, Gwen and Lancelot some of Merlin’s magic tomorrow. Then they can go to retrieve the sword.”
“And let’s hope that whatever brilliant plan Mordred’s put together to cock it up, doesn’t actually cock it up…” Bran said hopefully.
~ * ~
“Arthur, are you going to be okay?” Merlin asked him in concern. “Going to retrieve Excalibur? You’re worrying me,” he noted.
Arthur shook his head. He tried not to look at the small, round bandage now covering the wound on Merlin’s neck.
“I know how important this is. I want to get my sword back more than anything. I’ll have Gwen and Lancelot with me. We’ll be fine,” Arthur reassured, trying his utmost to not make it look like his smile was forced.
“And all of you have some of my magic too. That should help,” Merlin said.
Arthur’s jaw clenched. He nodded stiffly. “Yes. You’ll be with us in spirit, I suppose,” he remarked.
Merlin sighed, looking frustrated. “I hate having to stay here like this, but if I’m glad I could help out in some way,” he said gratefully. Then he reached up a hand to Arthur’s cheek, cradling it. “It was just an accident, Arthur. So you bit me. I’m not bleeding to death now, am I?” He teased him, giving him a half-smile.
Before Arthur could say anything in reply, Merlin kissed him on the lips. Pulling away, he said, “I want to remember so much. You don’t know… I wish, well…we just have to be optimistic about it,” Merlin mused.
“If you want it enough, it’ll happen,” Arthur assured him, though he wasn’t sure himself about how much he believed those words.
Then a vision of Merlin lying dead on a bed -- blood all around him, but especially pooling near his neck -- assaulted Arthur. The blackest horse he’d ever seen was the next image he saw. The riderless horse was neighing and looking ready to charge as it reared up. Arthur swore he heard cruel laughter before the vision faded away.
He felt Merlin shaking his shoulders. “Arthur? Arthur? What’s wrong?” He asked him anxiously.
Arthur tried to smile reassuringly, but he was certain it came out as more of a grimace.
“It was nothing,” Arthur said firmly.
Merlin didn’t look especially convinced, but then there was a knock on Arthur’s bedroom door.
“Please don’t worry about it, Merlin. I’m fine, all right? Better than ever,” Arthur tried to impress upon him, his tone almost earnest.
He went to answer the door.
Bran was at the door. “Hello. Will needs to speak to you, Gwen, and Lancelot,” he said in a businesslike tone.
He looked a bit annoyed to be talking to Arthur.
“Right,” Arthur said.
“Bye then,” Bran dismissed him, intimating that he should go at that moment.
“Look, I know you have a problem with me…but if you could just make an effort?” Arthur suggested.
“I don’t hate you,” Bran said curtly.
That was all Arthur got out of the boy. He left the room, feeling a bit defeated.
He only heard Bran greeting Merlin in a friendlier way before Bran shut the door soon after Arthur departed.
He couldn’t hear them anymore after that.
~ * ~
“Gwydion!” The girl exclaimed with a laugh. “Not fair! I’m wearing a dress and fancy shoes,” she defended.
Her cheeks were red from the exertion as she stopped running.
Gwydion grinned at her for a brief moment. “No matter if you’re wearing trainers, I’m still going to beat you. You know I’m a fast runner, Charlotte,” he said with intent.
She shoved him in the shoulder, frowning at him. “It’s Charlie. You know I don’t like being called by my long name, Mordred. Next time I’m wearing proper trainers,” Charlie declared, brushing aside a stray lock of her white-blonde hair.
She went inside the room, the intended destination of their little race. With gusto, she shut the door in Mordred’s face.
“Oh, don’t be like that. I think you’re very pretty. There. I gave you a compliment!” He said to her in front of the closed door.
“You’ve got your priorities mixed up!” Charlie said with a giggle.
Mordred twisted the doorknob and realized that Charlie had locked the door. But he knew he could get through any locked door. Smiling to himself, he opened the door using magic, his blue eyes flashing a pure, eerie white as he released some of his magic.
In the room, he found Charlie lying on the foot of the bed. She was lying on her stomach, her lace and satin white dress smoothly arranged underneath her to prevent creases.
She was looking at the big TV screen positioned in front of the bed. Her elbow-length black silk gloves covered her hands which she had under her chin.
“The three of them are here,” Charlie announced.
But Mordred didn’t look at the screen, not even a glance.
“You’re lucky to know who your mother and father is,” Charlie remarked a bit wistfully when Mordred remained silent.
“I’ve not had a chance to forget it. Trust me, Charlie, I’d do anything to have the mystery that you have about who your parents are. You’re luckier than me,” Mordred told her honestly.
“Aren’t you even slightly interested in--?” She asked him.
“While I don’t believe a word of what the Black Rider has told me all my life, it still…” he paused, shaking his head. “I’m not interested at all,” he said with finality.
Charlie looked at him sadly. Then she climbed off the bed to get a closer glimpse at the images on the screen.
“You have his eyes,” she decided, but when she turned to Mordred, she discovered that he had already gone.
“There are always color contacts, I suppose,” Charlie mused to herself. Then more somberly, she said quietly, “Oh Gwydion.”
She felt sorry for him.
~ * ~
“Please don’t tell me that’s a dead woman in that boat,” Gwen said grimly.
The young woman was lying face down in the wooden boat. Her long, brunette hair flowed down her back and a headpiece made of flowers circled her head. Her dress was white and it certainly looked like something a woman from the medieval era would wear. Arthurian times, even. Arthur wasn’t too surprised if that was the intent.
Lancelot knelt down and gently turned the woman around. Her eyes were closed but one could tell by her face that she had been an attractive woman. She surely must have turned heads during her lifetime.
He checked her pulse and nodded. “She’s definitely dead. But from the look of her, it seems like it was just yesterday. Maybe she’s being preserved magically?” Lancelot concluded.
“What is this then? To just freak us out?” Arthur wondered.
“It looks like it. This ‘stronghold of the Dark’ seems like it’s more of a haunted mansion,” Lancelot remarked.
“Oh look. Her hand,” Gwen pointed out.
On the inside of the dead woman’s right hand, the words, “The Lady Elaine” were written. The ink was red and none of them wanted to verify whether it was blood or paint. Some things were best left unknown.
“A haunted mansion with an Arthurian theme, clearly,” Arthur figured.
Gwen put her hand on her brow. Lancelot squeezed her shoulder to comfort her. She smiled at him in gratitude. She declared, “I swear if there’s a room with a Round Table with all the knights sitting around it, with their throats slit and bleeding all over the table… I’d be sorely tempted to leave.”
“Wherever did you get that idea from, Guinevere? Your mind must be a fascinating place,” Arthur joked with her.
“Oh be quiet you,” she shot back at him.
“Didn’t you tell me that All Hallow’s Eve was your favorite holiday, love?” Lancelot asked her, smiling.
“No, I never said that,” Gwen denied quickly. “Anyway, we should be getting on…” she trailed off when a girl appeared in front of them.
The girl had white-blonde hair, not as white as Bran’s but it was close, and clear blue eyes.
She looked about thirteen, the same age as Will and Bran, and she wore a lace-sleeved white satin dress. Her lace sleeves were short, and black silk gloves went up to her elbows. A black ribbon held some of her hair back.
“Hello. I’m Charlotte, but you should call me Charlie. I’m here to show you where Excalibur is. I know you don’t trust me, but I can make this a shorter ordeal for you…if you’re willing to take the chance,” she offered.
“We know where Excalibur is. Thanks, but we don’t need your help. And we don’t trust you,” Arthur said resolutely.
“Of course you don’t trust me. I am only extending a courtesy to you…you know it’s behind one of the doors, but do you know which one?” She inquired reasonably.
“Why are you helping us?” Arthur wanted to know, unnerved by the girl. “If you live here, then clearly you’re working for the Dark.”
“The Lords of the Dark have been very kind to me. I was abandoned not long after I was born and I was saved by a Lord of the Dark. As to why I’m helping you, well, I don’t want you here anymore than any of you want to be here. So I’m simply speeding up the process.”
Arthur took note that Charlie hadn’t confirmed or denied that she was working for the Dark. Of course, the fact that she was saved by the one of the Lords of the Dark definitely implied that she was working under the Dark’s agenda; but implications left room for doubt.
“Are you alone here in this mansion?” Gwen asked her.
Charlie only smiled. “That’s not important. Do you want me to direct all of you or not?” She offered yet again.
Arthur, Gwen and Lancelot talked it over amongst themselves, and they decided to take her offer. No harm done, right?
She led the three of them down a long hallway. The door they had to enter was at the end of the corridor.
The girl left them after she pointed out the door to the three.
Arthur discovered that the door was firmly locked, so he used the magic Merlin had given him to open the door.
“Oh my,” Gwen breathed out.
The door opened not to reveal a room, but instead, the door opened to the outside. Or at least the illusion of being outside. The limits of magic were unfathomable apparently.
There were hills and mountains ahead of them. They were currently standing in a flat grassy area.
They walked for a little bit and then Arthur peered upward. “I think Excalibur is in a stone on top of one of those hills. I feel a pull toward the sword… if I just follow that,” Arthur ventured thoughtfully.
“It’s your sword. It’s best for you to lead the way,” Lancelot said agreeably.
Gwen nodded. “Yes, we’ll follow you.”
It wasn’t a quiet walk and then climbing up the hill, unfortunately. They had to contend with bloodthirsty wolves, which the three of them knew how to stun with their borrowed magic. It proved effective enough, but Arthur dearly wished to get Excalibur when wolf after wolf kept charging at them. Though having magic to defend himself now was nice, he felt like he’d do better with Excalibur. He didn’t think he’d truly quite feel like himself without his cherished sword that he had fought many a battle with.
What really threw all of them off were the sheep that had come in to attack them. Killer sheep.
The surprise of it even had Gwen swearing, “What the fuck?” She had remarked in disbelief as they put each of the sheep into a deep sleep.
But eventually, they reached the top of the hill that had Excalibur.
Arthur smiled gratefully at the sight of his sword.
Gwen and Lancelot stood a little way behind him as Arthur went up to the stone encasing. Arthur was puzzled when he noticed that the sword hilt was coated in blood.
He tried to wipe off the blood with his hand, but the blood stayed as if it hadn’t even been disturbed.
“Try using magic to take it off,” Lancelot suggested.
Arthur did, but irritatingly, the blood stayed on the hilt as if it had been super-glued on there.
With a resigned sigh, Arthur decided that he should pull out his sword and deal with the blood later.
Except when he pulled at the hilt of the sword to get out Excalibur, the sword wouldn’t budge. Arthur tried again, but still, Excalibur remained trapped in the stone.
“It’s my sword. I’m meant to pull it out,” Arthur voiced out loud. He knew he probably sounded like a petulant child, but this was ridiculous.
Before Lancelot and Gwen could offer him any suggestions, the three of them were swept off their feet and disappeared from the hilltop.
~ * ~
“Need a hand?”
Will looked up at the dark-haired boy who reached out his hand to him.
“No. I just need to sit for a moment. I’ve not been feeling the best lately,” Will said frankly.
His back rested against the stone Excalibur was still stuck in.
Bran went to Will and gave him his hand, pulling him up without a word. Will just sighed and shook his head, thanking Bran.
Bran turned to Mordred. “And you think you’re so clever. You didn’t think we’d come here at all, is that it? That’s why you put my blood on the hilt.”
“I said I had nothing against you. And who says that the adults need to do everything?” Mordred remarked with a shrug.
“Excalibur is rightfully Arthur’s. The apocalypse is happening in his reality, so his sword needs to be used. If it were Bran’s reality, then that’d be a different story. But Eirias has already been used in the last battle. Its time for now has past. What you’ve done is wrong,” Will informed him.
“I prevented the sword from getting into the hands of its true wielder. I count that as a success for me,” Mordred said, looking inordinately pleased. “Anyway, if I can be honest here, this was mostly to do with getting you two here. I need to tell you something…”
“What - that you’re a complete wanker?” Bran retorted, his arms crossed against his chest.
Mordred smiled viciously at him. “Eirias wasn’t even your sword, not really. It was just your father’s sword and because you were his legitimate son, you could pull it out. I found out that legitimacy is important to have. I would be able to pull out Excalibur otherwise,” Mordred said, his tone bitter and a little sad too.
“What do you need Excalibur for anyway?” Bran wondered.
“Who wouldn’t want that sword?” Mordred retorted. Then he walked up to Bran, getting into his personal space. “I’m also sure that an angel must have accidentally dropped a whole bucket of bleach on you before you were born.”
Bran looked furious.
Will stepped in between them, pushing them away from each other. “That’s enough.”
“I’m sure the devil smothered ash from the fires of hell into your hair. That’s why it’s as black as your heart,” Bran shot back at him.
Mordred raised his brow. “Really?”
“Bran, please!” Will asked almost desperately of him. His hands were shaking and he looked about ready to collapse. “I need you to pull out Excalibur. We need to move it to the lake after that. Excalibur can only be pulled out once from the stone.”
Bran deflated when he recognized how unsteady Will was looking. “Are you okay? I’m sorry,” he said honestly.
Will sat down again. “It’s just the Dark… it’s worse here. Like they’re closing in on me. If you could just pull out the sword and give it to me, then I’d be grateful for that.”
Bran nodded and he went to pull out Excalibur. The sword pulled out easily for him because of his blood on the hilt.
His blood vanished from the sword’s hilt once it was removed from the stone.
Bran looked a bit awed by the sword, but he thought that he didn’t get the same feeling of rightness when he had held Eirias all those months ago.
Will stood up and Bran handed the sword to him. Will then put it inside the scabbard he had brought for the occasion.
“I made a lake at the bottom of the hill,” Mordred announced.
“What just now?” Bran said incredulously.
“Yes. I can do a lot of things with barely a thought,” Mordred explained nonchalantly.
“So you’re a show-off. Nice,” Bran shot back.
“It’s one of the few enjoyments I get out of my life,” he quipped.
Will cleared his throat loudly. “Sorry to interrupt, but I need to throw Excalibur into the lake. Bran, you’re coming with me.”
“All right. And then Arthur will retrieve it?” Bran assumed.
Will nodded.
“I transported them back in front of the locked door leading to this place. Like a boomerang,” Mordred confided in them, lips twisting into an amused smile. “They should return here and find the lake.”
“And are you planning on messing that up too? Drowning him maybe?” Bran accused of him.
Mordred gave a twisted smile. “What a great idea. I’ll add that to my list.”
“The Dark can only hinder and delay Arthur’s claiming of the sword. Since they know full well that they stole Excalibur, they can’t deny the rightful owner from gaining it in the end. Killing Arthur to stop him would be against the High Law. If they think that they can succeed, they're deluding themselves,” Will explained self-assuredly.
“Delusions of grandeur. I may be suffering from that,” Mordred announced idly. He didn’t sound too serious about it.
“I wouldn’t be surprised. And what are you going to do when Will and I are at the lake? Perform a demon summoning?” Bran asked in a caustic tone.
“I only do those on Sundays,” Mordred said, shrugging.
“Are you really helping us or are you just here to be annoying?” Bran wondered.
“Isn’t that the eternal question?” Mordred asked vaguely. “I have my own reasons for what I do,” he said in a guarded tone.
“Well okay. If you want to be secretive,” Bran said dismissively.
“Anyway, you two should do the sword in the lake thing. I’ll be here when you return. Then we can really get started,” Mordred declared.
“All right. Come on, Bran,” Will said to him, beckoning him forward.
As the pair climbed downhill, Mordred disappeared magically once he was out of sight from the two. He had a matter of his own to take care of.
~ * ~
“Are you feeling better, Arthur?” Gwen asked, a deep note of concern in her voice. “About not getting Excalibur?”
“I think talking to that Merlin helped,” Arthur said optimistically. “I know I shouldn’t trust anyone who lives here, but still it’s Merlin…and I couldn’t help but trust him. He said he was a construct pulled from a book, that his mind was his own.”
“Arthur, I hate to say this, but are you sure you were talking to a living person? Because when we looked, we saw the man you were talking to with his head on the desk, and blood coming from his neck. The blood was staining his beard,” Lancelot informed him uneasily. “It was unnerving to see you acting like he was talking to you when I swear that man was dead.”
Gwen nodded in agreement.
Arthur frowned. He re-opened the door to the room he had encountered that other version of Merlin. He still saw him there, very much alive. His head was bent over a book and he was taking notes as well.
“I don’t see a dead man. Maybe the both of you were supposed to see him differently,” Arthur concluded reasonably.
“I must admit it’s eerie. I won’t be much for sleeping tonight,” Gwen said honestly.
Arthur let out a long sigh. He peeked into the room again. “I don’t see him anymore. What about you two?” He asked.
Gwen and Lancelot looked into the room as well. They both shook their heads. “We don’t see him anymore either,” Gwen confirmed, though she still seemed worried.
“Anyway, alive or dead, Merlin did tell me the sword should be in a lake now in the same place we were just at. I’m sure it was just that blood that stopped me from getting Excalibur. But I won’t let that deter me. So we’re all going to return there,” Arthur decided, a note of finality in his voice.
Gwen and Lancelot couldn’t do anything but agree with that. After all, they needed to get Excalibur no matter what. Even if the pair was of the belief that Arthur had received the information from a dead man.
~ * ~
As soon as Mordred slipped into Merlin’s room within the mansion, the old wizard looked up from his usual place behind his book-laden desk. He had been expecting Mordred to come.
“Did you do it?” Mordred asked Merlin as he shut the door.
He sat down in the empty chair in front of Merlin’s desk.
“There was nothing to be done,” Merlin answered curtly. “The Black Rider certainly did a number on him. I’m glad I didn’t have to do anything. I find the whole business distasteful. I only listened to him.”
Mordred sighed. “Yes, I figured you’d think that. But you read his thoughts though?”
“Yes of course. Just to see how things were progressing. Personally, I think it’ll all come to nothing, but all in all, it is not my problem,” Merlin remarked, a small hint of relief in his tone.
Merlin then peered down at the book he had been studying and made a note on the paper beside the book. The paper was already half full with his notes.
Mordred remained silent, though he personally wanted it to come to something. For a little while at least -- to keep things interesting.
“Do you have it?” Mordred asked hopefully. “What I need?”
Merlin smiled. “Yes I do,” he confirmed. He stood up and went to a shelf full of potions on the far side of the room.
He took one of the vials and returned to his desk. Mordred reached out his hand to take the vial from Merlin.
Merlin shook his head, putting the potion out of the boy’s reach. “First, I need to remind you that this is quite a strong potion,” He expressed to him firmly. “You must be careful, my boy. You only need to take a drop of this once a day. I need to monitor you to make sure you won’t deal with any adverse effects. If you could see me regularly, then that would be best.”
“Right. I understand. If I take too much of it, my magic will explode from within me and I’ll die. It’s the price I’m willing to pay,” Mordred declared solemnly.
Merlin nodded. He handed the vial to Mordred who held it carefully in his hand as if it were a precious object.
Merlin assured him, “By taking this potion, no one can take your magic from you by force. You can trust in that. But your magic will be bound tighter to you than ever before. You may need to find ways to release it, to ease the pressure within you. Though as long as you use the potion correctly and see me, then you should be fine.”
“Thank you,” Mordred said sincerely.
He took care to only drink a drop of the potion - made easier by the small opening of the vial.
“I feel it. It’s working. Thank goodness.”
“Of course it would work,” the old Merlin said proudly. “I do have a talent for potions, I would have to say.”
“Yes. Well, I should go… I appreciate what you’ve done for me,” he thanked Merlin.
Merlin inclined his head.
As Mordred went to leave the room, Merlin spoke, “Gwydion, it’s quite all right to be scared. I feel the same way, you know. My memory has been going a bit funny…anyway… But if you can change that fear into a strength, then you will conquer it. Take care, my boy.”
“See you, Merlin,” Mordred said quietly.
He would not face Merlin because he could feel the tears prickling at his eyes. He hurriedly swiped the wetness away and departed from the room.
~ * ~
“Were you able to read Mordred’s mind, Will?” Bran asked him as they reached the conjured lake.
“Yes, which is interesting in of itself. He had particularly strong mental barriers to prevent anyone from reading even his surface thoughts. But he opened them up a bit for me. And we can trust him. I’m sure of that,” Will said confidently.
“What exactly made you think that?” Bran wanted to know.
“The Dark is all about this place. I think it’s better if we discuss this properly back at the Sanctuary. For now, you just have to take my word for it,” Will decided.
“All right. That sounds like the best idea,” Bran agreed.
Will removed the sword from its encasing and then Bran asked, “Can I throw Excalibur into the lake?”
Will raised his brow, but nodded. “Yes, if you want to. As long as it gets into the lake, it doesn’t matter who throws it.”
He gave the sword to Bran who threw it into the water.
Then the pair of them headed back up the hill. Bran wondered if Mordred would truly be there as he promised. But then Will said something to him, causing Bran to scoff weakly, shoving Will in the shoulder. Yet Bran couldn’t help but smile all the same.
~ * ~
“I don’t want to get my shirt wet,” Arthur said as he took it off, and threw it to the ground.
Gwen twisted her lips, trying hard not to smile. “Imagine what people would say if there was a version of the tale where King Arthur goes skinny-dipping to retrieve Excalibur from the lake. Now that’s a story to tell the children,” she declared in an amused tone.
“Gwen, it may look like water, but it’s really vodka… I told you this before,” Lancelot said, teasing her.
“Oh shut up, love,” she retorted.
She pulled Lancelot toward her and kissed him.
“Well, I’m planning to keep my pants on,” Arthur said with a half-smile. He kicked off his shoes and removed his socks too. “Wish me luck.”
“Are you sure you won’t drown, Arthur?” Gwen brought up in deep concern. “This is the Dark’s stronghold after all. They would do anything to stop you from gaining the sword.”
“I have a good feeling about this. And I’m a strong swimmer. I’ll be fine, you’ll see,” Arthur said self-assuredly, his tone arrogant.
Gwen bit her lip, but nodded. Lancelot squeezed her shoulder to comfort her.
“I’m going in after you if anything does go wrong,” Lancelot told him.
“I wouldn’t expect any less from you,” Arthur remarked, clapping him on the shoulder.
He entered the lake, and started swimming and looking for the glint from Excalibur that lay at the lake’s bottom.
When Arthur saw it, he told the others, and he dived toward the sword.
When he grasped the hilt of Excalibur, he felt that nothing could beat this moment of happiness and overwhelming relief.
Clutching the sword, Arthur swam back to the surface. He noticed that the hilt had no blood on it this time around.
He held up the sword to show Gwen and Lancelot that he had gotten it.
They smiled, grateful that he finally had the sword.
Soon after Arthur reached the shore and put back on his shirt, socks and shoes; the three of them placed their hands on the sword.
The sword transported them back to the Sanctuary as they had been told it would.
They had succeeded in getting Excalibur. Despite Arthur’s inner conflict, he still felt like he could taste victory… that the apocalypse would end with the world being safe from the manipulation of the Dark.
~ * ~
Freya dreamed that she was standing before a lake. She looked down at herself to see that she was donned in a deep purple gown, one that she certainly wouldn’t be able to afford.
The water sprites of the lake were calling to her. Freya felt anxious and excited all at once. It was a strange mix of emotions.
“You are the Lady, the Lady of the Lake,” the water sprites said in unison, their voices were like music to her ears. “When we ask it of you, will you come? Will you?” They inquired of her earnestly.
Freya smiled at them. “Of course. Of course I will. I would never turn my back on my calling.”
The sprites danced upon the lake, happy at her words.
The scene changed to her standing in the lake with a sword in her hands. Until the end of time itself, she thought, as she disappeared and took the sword along with her.
When Freya woke up, she couldn’t quite remember what she had dreamed about. But she was sure it had been a good dream, and she couldn’t keep from smiling the rest of the day.
~ * ~
Chapter 5
Author: dk323
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 6,225
Characters/Pairings: Merlin/Arthur, Lancelot/Gwen, Will Stanton, Bran Davies, Mordred, Freya, OC
Warnings: Character death (off-screen; not Merlin or Arthur), unsettling scenes, swearing
Disclaimer: The show Merlin is property of the BBC. The Dark Is Rising book series is property of Susan Cooper. Some elements inspired by the 2010 film, “Never Let Me Go.”
Summary: As darkness descends, six people come together to save the world. Nothing will ever be the same again.
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3
Chapter 4: Not all is as it seems with Mordred. A secret is kept. Meanwhile, a troubled Arthur continues to face the consequences of his meeting with the Black Rider.
Arthur, Gwen and Lancelot go to retrieve Excalibur from the Dark’s stronghold.
Author’s Note: Mordred’s middle name is Gwydion, and he sometimes goes by that name. Gwydion is another name for Mordred in Arthurian legend either way…I believe it was another name for King Arthur too.
~ * ~
I am a spear that roars for blood,
From the Irish verse, Song of Amergin, as translated by Robert Graves
~ * ~
Chapter 4: Mordred’s Lullaby ~
“Hey. Welcome back,” Arthur said to Merlin.
Merlin was in the midst of putting food and drinks away in the refrigerator. He paused, turning around to face Arthur when he spoke.
He looked happy to see Arthur. “Hi, thanks. Yeah, I’m back. Never thought I’d get a chance to time travel. Will brought us back and Bran looked like he wanted to talk to him about something important. I have a bad feeling about it…something must have happened to Bran when we split up. And Bran wouldn’t tell me what it was,” Merlin said, sounding a bit anxious, biting his lip.
“I’m sure whatever it is, Will knows how to handle it,” Arthur assured him.
Arthur was horrified when his gaze shifted to Merlin’s neck, and he could hear the blood. Merlin’s blood as it pulsed through his body. He tried his best to suppress this sudden inclination, to want to press his lips, sink his teeth into Merlin’s neck, but it was hard. Damn it. He did not need this right now.
Merlin looked at Arthur strangely. “Arthur? Are you all right?”
“Just don’t move,” Arthur said softly. He breathed in and out in an attempt to relax himself.
“What? I don’t understand,” Merlin said, confused.
Arthur moved closer to him, and then he kissed him feather light on the lips. He went down lower, to Merlin’s neck and he felt a desperate want to bite him there. To leave a bite mark that everyone could see. So that everyone would know… a mark that wouldn’t fade for a long time.
“I just wanted to say hello,” Arthur told him.
Merlin smiled, accepting, at him. “All right,” he acknowledged. He then coursed both of his hands through Arthur’s blond locks as Arthur continued to kiss him.
Then Arthur sucked on his neck, his teeth skimming against the pale skin. Only Merlin’s abrupt cry of surprise made him pull back. Arthur realized that he had broken the skin, a small bit of blood welled up on Merlin’s neck, blemishing the pale surface.
Merlin put his fingers over the offending spot on his neck. He was mildly alarmed to see blood smeared on his fingers.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know how that happened. I’ll get a bandage or something for you… I didn’t mean to,” Arthur said hurriedly. He left the kitchen, unwilling to remain in close proximity to Merlin.
As Arthur departed in a rush, Merlin stared after him with a puzzled expression. What was going on with Arthur?
~ * ~
“And Mordred healed you?” Will asked.
The two of them were sitting cross-legged across from each other on the bed. Will held Bran’s hand in his own, observing his palm. He traced one finger over his open hand along a now non-existent wound.
“Yes, but I’m sure he only did it so no one would ask questions. I did tell him I would tell you, yet--” He paused, shrugging.
“It doesn’t make sense that he would heal someone he’s meant to hate, to view as the enemy,” Will pointed out calmly. He let go of Bran’s hand.
“Yes, but I told you. Mordred did act weirdly with me. He called me a freak and he touched me…” Bran argued defensively.
Will sighed. “When you first met me, you told me what others called you at school. I don’t like that you have to deal with that, but no matter where Mordred’s allegiances lie…”
Bran looked incredulous. “He’s still our age, so what - I’m supposed to take him like one of the boys at school who insult me?”
“It’s cruel, yes, but it could be as simple as that. At the end of the day, he’s just a 13-year old boy trying to figure things out. And it’s natural that he’s inclined to hate you. Maybe Mordred was trying to unnerve you to make himself feel better. From what you told me, the contact didn’t seem like anything more than making you uncomfortable.”
“What is it? What do you know?” Bran ventured. “Why are you trying to defend Mordred? The Black Rider most likely raised him. He’s a creature of the Dark.”
“Mordred healing you helps to prove that he’s more of a grey area. Those of the Dark don’t heal using magic, or they don’t make a habit of it. Healing is a kinder magic, something that the Dark doesn’t favour. For him to use healing magic on you, an enemy of his…is a rare almost unheard of event. In a way, he was almost nice to you…” Will suggested thoughtfully.
“Seriously?” Bran said in disbelief. “His mother shot and killed you, which I’m still not happy about. Any son of hers can’t be trusted!” He declared fiercely.
“You forget who his father is,” Will reminded him gently.
Bran huffed. “Straight out of an Arthurian text, Arthur gets tricked into having relations with a dark sorceress…with a modern twist,” he remarked dismissively. “Did Merriman tell you anything?”
Will nodded. “Merriman’s urgent business involved Mordred. He found out that Mordred’s mother was taken 13 years into the past thanks to the Dark. She carried her child for nine months there. Not long after Mordred was born, Morgana died. The belief was that Mordred’s magic was so powerful that the cost of giving birth to such a child was a heavy one.”
“Considering what she did to you, I don’t know if I feel too sorry about her dying,” Bran remarked frankly.
Will looked particularly weary then. He seemed to carry a burden meant for a much older man. “She was manipulated by the Dark. She was a victim as a result, but due to her past life as a sorceress of dark magic, Morgana did have that inclination to side with the likes of the Dark. Still, Mordred knows why his mother died, that his coming into the world caused her death. It's an awful thing to live with,” he said grimly.
After a long moment of silence, Bran finally said, “I still feel like punching Mordred,” he decided.
“That’s what your instincts are telling you, but like it or not, Merriman told me that Mordred is the key.” Will stated resolutely.
“The key to what?”
“To the Light having a bigger chance of winning. There are the other factors to consider, as you know, but Mordred’s aid would be a great advantage to us. His magic is unlike anything we’ve seen before,” Will confided in him. “Not even Merlin will be able to possess that sort of magic in this life. We also need to make sure Arthur and the others remain unaware of Mordred’s existence. It’s not right to keep this secret; but we need to tread lightly now.”
“You have to be joking! Mordred might as well be called Lucifer. He’d never aid the Light,” Bran argued in outrage.
“I told you, Bran. Mordred is a grey area. And while Mordred’s mother may have worked for the Dark, his father is a good man at the heart of it. A child borne of the Dark and the Light… he could be swayed to either side. Even if Mordred’s been raised by the Dark, we can't dismiss him so easily,” Will said.
Bran groaned. “This is bollocks,” he muttered.
Will gave him a small smile, grasping his shoulder in an attempt at comforting him.
Bran lay back down on the bed while Will shifted position so that he sat beside him. “What do you think he needed my blood for?” Bran wondered. “There are a lot of things blood could be used for, right? A lot of dark magic rituals and the like…”
“Since the Dark knows we need to get Excalibur… maybe he took some of your blood to go toward hindering our success there. We will see. I’m planning to give Arthur, Gwen and Lancelot some of Merlin’s magic tomorrow. Then they can go to retrieve the sword.”
“And let’s hope that whatever brilliant plan Mordred’s put together to cock it up, doesn’t actually cock it up…” Bran said hopefully.
~ * ~
“Arthur, are you going to be okay?” Merlin asked him in concern. “Going to retrieve Excalibur? You’re worrying me,” he noted.
Arthur shook his head. He tried not to look at the small, round bandage now covering the wound on Merlin’s neck.
“I know how important this is. I want to get my sword back more than anything. I’ll have Gwen and Lancelot with me. We’ll be fine,” Arthur reassured, trying his utmost to not make it look like his smile was forced.
“And all of you have some of my magic too. That should help,” Merlin said.
Arthur’s jaw clenched. He nodded stiffly. “Yes. You’ll be with us in spirit, I suppose,” he remarked.
Merlin sighed, looking frustrated. “I hate having to stay here like this, but if I’m glad I could help out in some way,” he said gratefully. Then he reached up a hand to Arthur’s cheek, cradling it. “It was just an accident, Arthur. So you bit me. I’m not bleeding to death now, am I?” He teased him, giving him a half-smile.
Before Arthur could say anything in reply, Merlin kissed him on the lips. Pulling away, he said, “I want to remember so much. You don’t know… I wish, well…we just have to be optimistic about it,” Merlin mused.
“If you want it enough, it’ll happen,” Arthur assured him, though he wasn’t sure himself about how much he believed those words.
Then a vision of Merlin lying dead on a bed -- blood all around him, but especially pooling near his neck -- assaulted Arthur. The blackest horse he’d ever seen was the next image he saw. The riderless horse was neighing and looking ready to charge as it reared up. Arthur swore he heard cruel laughter before the vision faded away.
He felt Merlin shaking his shoulders. “Arthur? Arthur? What’s wrong?” He asked him anxiously.
Arthur tried to smile reassuringly, but he was certain it came out as more of a grimace.
“It was nothing,” Arthur said firmly.
Merlin didn’t look especially convinced, but then there was a knock on Arthur’s bedroom door.
“Please don’t worry about it, Merlin. I’m fine, all right? Better than ever,” Arthur tried to impress upon him, his tone almost earnest.
He went to answer the door.
Bran was at the door. “Hello. Will needs to speak to you, Gwen, and Lancelot,” he said in a businesslike tone.
He looked a bit annoyed to be talking to Arthur.
“Right,” Arthur said.
“Bye then,” Bran dismissed him, intimating that he should go at that moment.
“Look, I know you have a problem with me…but if you could just make an effort?” Arthur suggested.
“I don’t hate you,” Bran said curtly.
That was all Arthur got out of the boy. He left the room, feeling a bit defeated.
He only heard Bran greeting Merlin in a friendlier way before Bran shut the door soon after Arthur departed.
He couldn’t hear them anymore after that.
~ * ~
“Gwydion!” The girl exclaimed with a laugh. “Not fair! I’m wearing a dress and fancy shoes,” she defended.
Her cheeks were red from the exertion as she stopped running.
Gwydion grinned at her for a brief moment. “No matter if you’re wearing trainers, I’m still going to beat you. You know I’m a fast runner, Charlotte,” he said with intent.
She shoved him in the shoulder, frowning at him. “It’s Charlie. You know I don’t like being called by my long name, Mordred. Next time I’m wearing proper trainers,” Charlie declared, brushing aside a stray lock of her white-blonde hair.
She went inside the room, the intended destination of their little race. With gusto, she shut the door in Mordred’s face.
“Oh, don’t be like that. I think you’re very pretty. There. I gave you a compliment!” He said to her in front of the closed door.
“You’ve got your priorities mixed up!” Charlie said with a giggle.
Mordred twisted the doorknob and realized that Charlie had locked the door. But he knew he could get through any locked door. Smiling to himself, he opened the door using magic, his blue eyes flashing a pure, eerie white as he released some of his magic.
In the room, he found Charlie lying on the foot of the bed. She was lying on her stomach, her lace and satin white dress smoothly arranged underneath her to prevent creases.
She was looking at the big TV screen positioned in front of the bed. Her elbow-length black silk gloves covered her hands which she had under her chin.
“The three of them are here,” Charlie announced.
But Mordred didn’t look at the screen, not even a glance.
“You’re lucky to know who your mother and father is,” Charlie remarked a bit wistfully when Mordred remained silent.
“I’ve not had a chance to forget it. Trust me, Charlie, I’d do anything to have the mystery that you have about who your parents are. You’re luckier than me,” Mordred told her honestly.
“Aren’t you even slightly interested in--?” She asked him.
“While I don’t believe a word of what the Black Rider has told me all my life, it still…” he paused, shaking his head. “I’m not interested at all,” he said with finality.
Charlie looked at him sadly. Then she climbed off the bed to get a closer glimpse at the images on the screen.
“You have his eyes,” she decided, but when she turned to Mordred, she discovered that he had already gone.
“There are always color contacts, I suppose,” Charlie mused to herself. Then more somberly, she said quietly, “Oh Gwydion.”
She felt sorry for him.
~ * ~
“Please don’t tell me that’s a dead woman in that boat,” Gwen said grimly.
The young woman was lying face down in the wooden boat. Her long, brunette hair flowed down her back and a headpiece made of flowers circled her head. Her dress was white and it certainly looked like something a woman from the medieval era would wear. Arthurian times, even. Arthur wasn’t too surprised if that was the intent.
Lancelot knelt down and gently turned the woman around. Her eyes were closed but one could tell by her face that she had been an attractive woman. She surely must have turned heads during her lifetime.
He checked her pulse and nodded. “She’s definitely dead. But from the look of her, it seems like it was just yesterday. Maybe she’s being preserved magically?” Lancelot concluded.
“What is this then? To just freak us out?” Arthur wondered.
“It looks like it. This ‘stronghold of the Dark’ seems like it’s more of a haunted mansion,” Lancelot remarked.
“Oh look. Her hand,” Gwen pointed out.
On the inside of the dead woman’s right hand, the words, “The Lady Elaine” were written. The ink was red and none of them wanted to verify whether it was blood or paint. Some things were best left unknown.
“A haunted mansion with an Arthurian theme, clearly,” Arthur figured.
Gwen put her hand on her brow. Lancelot squeezed her shoulder to comfort her. She smiled at him in gratitude. She declared, “I swear if there’s a room with a Round Table with all the knights sitting around it, with their throats slit and bleeding all over the table… I’d be sorely tempted to leave.”
“Wherever did you get that idea from, Guinevere? Your mind must be a fascinating place,” Arthur joked with her.
“Oh be quiet you,” she shot back at him.
“Didn’t you tell me that All Hallow’s Eve was your favorite holiday, love?” Lancelot asked her, smiling.
“No, I never said that,” Gwen denied quickly. “Anyway, we should be getting on…” she trailed off when a girl appeared in front of them.
The girl had white-blonde hair, not as white as Bran’s but it was close, and clear blue eyes.
She looked about thirteen, the same age as Will and Bran, and she wore a lace-sleeved white satin dress. Her lace sleeves were short, and black silk gloves went up to her elbows. A black ribbon held some of her hair back.
“Hello. I’m Charlotte, but you should call me Charlie. I’m here to show you where Excalibur is. I know you don’t trust me, but I can make this a shorter ordeal for you…if you’re willing to take the chance,” she offered.
“We know where Excalibur is. Thanks, but we don’t need your help. And we don’t trust you,” Arthur said resolutely.
“Of course you don’t trust me. I am only extending a courtesy to you…you know it’s behind one of the doors, but do you know which one?” She inquired reasonably.
“Why are you helping us?” Arthur wanted to know, unnerved by the girl. “If you live here, then clearly you’re working for the Dark.”
“The Lords of the Dark have been very kind to me. I was abandoned not long after I was born and I was saved by a Lord of the Dark. As to why I’m helping you, well, I don’t want you here anymore than any of you want to be here. So I’m simply speeding up the process.”
Arthur took note that Charlie hadn’t confirmed or denied that she was working for the Dark. Of course, the fact that she was saved by the one of the Lords of the Dark definitely implied that she was working under the Dark’s agenda; but implications left room for doubt.
“Are you alone here in this mansion?” Gwen asked her.
Charlie only smiled. “That’s not important. Do you want me to direct all of you or not?” She offered yet again.
Arthur, Gwen and Lancelot talked it over amongst themselves, and they decided to take her offer. No harm done, right?
She led the three of them down a long hallway. The door they had to enter was at the end of the corridor.
The girl left them after she pointed out the door to the three.
Arthur discovered that the door was firmly locked, so he used the magic Merlin had given him to open the door.
“Oh my,” Gwen breathed out.
The door opened not to reveal a room, but instead, the door opened to the outside. Or at least the illusion of being outside. The limits of magic were unfathomable apparently.
There were hills and mountains ahead of them. They were currently standing in a flat grassy area.
They walked for a little bit and then Arthur peered upward. “I think Excalibur is in a stone on top of one of those hills. I feel a pull toward the sword… if I just follow that,” Arthur ventured thoughtfully.
“It’s your sword. It’s best for you to lead the way,” Lancelot said agreeably.
Gwen nodded. “Yes, we’ll follow you.”
It wasn’t a quiet walk and then climbing up the hill, unfortunately. They had to contend with bloodthirsty wolves, which the three of them knew how to stun with their borrowed magic. It proved effective enough, but Arthur dearly wished to get Excalibur when wolf after wolf kept charging at them. Though having magic to defend himself now was nice, he felt like he’d do better with Excalibur. He didn’t think he’d truly quite feel like himself without his cherished sword that he had fought many a battle with.
What really threw all of them off were the sheep that had come in to attack them. Killer sheep.
The surprise of it even had Gwen swearing, “What the fuck?” She had remarked in disbelief as they put each of the sheep into a deep sleep.
But eventually, they reached the top of the hill that had Excalibur.
Arthur smiled gratefully at the sight of his sword.
Gwen and Lancelot stood a little way behind him as Arthur went up to the stone encasing. Arthur was puzzled when he noticed that the sword hilt was coated in blood.
He tried to wipe off the blood with his hand, but the blood stayed as if it hadn’t even been disturbed.
“Try using magic to take it off,” Lancelot suggested.
Arthur did, but irritatingly, the blood stayed on the hilt as if it had been super-glued on there.
With a resigned sigh, Arthur decided that he should pull out his sword and deal with the blood later.
Except when he pulled at the hilt of the sword to get out Excalibur, the sword wouldn’t budge. Arthur tried again, but still, Excalibur remained trapped in the stone.
“It’s my sword. I’m meant to pull it out,” Arthur voiced out loud. He knew he probably sounded like a petulant child, but this was ridiculous.
Before Lancelot and Gwen could offer him any suggestions, the three of them were swept off their feet and disappeared from the hilltop.
~ * ~
“Need a hand?”
Will looked up at the dark-haired boy who reached out his hand to him.
“No. I just need to sit for a moment. I’ve not been feeling the best lately,” Will said frankly.
His back rested against the stone Excalibur was still stuck in.
Bran went to Will and gave him his hand, pulling him up without a word. Will just sighed and shook his head, thanking Bran.
Bran turned to Mordred. “And you think you’re so clever. You didn’t think we’d come here at all, is that it? That’s why you put my blood on the hilt.”
“I said I had nothing against you. And who says that the adults need to do everything?” Mordred remarked with a shrug.
“Excalibur is rightfully Arthur’s. The apocalypse is happening in his reality, so his sword needs to be used. If it were Bran’s reality, then that’d be a different story. But Eirias has already been used in the last battle. Its time for now has past. What you’ve done is wrong,” Will informed him.
“I prevented the sword from getting into the hands of its true wielder. I count that as a success for me,” Mordred said, looking inordinately pleased. “Anyway, if I can be honest here, this was mostly to do with getting you two here. I need to tell you something…”
“What - that you’re a complete wanker?” Bran retorted, his arms crossed against his chest.
Mordred smiled viciously at him. “Eirias wasn’t even your sword, not really. It was just your father’s sword and because you were his legitimate son, you could pull it out. I found out that legitimacy is important to have. I would be able to pull out Excalibur otherwise,” Mordred said, his tone bitter and a little sad too.
“What do you need Excalibur for anyway?” Bran wondered.
“Who wouldn’t want that sword?” Mordred retorted. Then he walked up to Bran, getting into his personal space. “I’m also sure that an angel must have accidentally dropped a whole bucket of bleach on you before you were born.”
Bran looked furious.
Will stepped in between them, pushing them away from each other. “That’s enough.”
“I’m sure the devil smothered ash from the fires of hell into your hair. That’s why it’s as black as your heart,” Bran shot back at him.
Mordred raised his brow. “Really?”
“Bran, please!” Will asked almost desperately of him. His hands were shaking and he looked about ready to collapse. “I need you to pull out Excalibur. We need to move it to the lake after that. Excalibur can only be pulled out once from the stone.”
Bran deflated when he recognized how unsteady Will was looking. “Are you okay? I’m sorry,” he said honestly.
Will sat down again. “It’s just the Dark… it’s worse here. Like they’re closing in on me. If you could just pull out the sword and give it to me, then I’d be grateful for that.”
Bran nodded and he went to pull out Excalibur. The sword pulled out easily for him because of his blood on the hilt.
His blood vanished from the sword’s hilt once it was removed from the stone.
Bran looked a bit awed by the sword, but he thought that he didn’t get the same feeling of rightness when he had held Eirias all those months ago.
Will stood up and Bran handed the sword to him. Will then put it inside the scabbard he had brought for the occasion.
“I made a lake at the bottom of the hill,” Mordred announced.
“What just now?” Bran said incredulously.
“Yes. I can do a lot of things with barely a thought,” Mordred explained nonchalantly.
“So you’re a show-off. Nice,” Bran shot back.
“It’s one of the few enjoyments I get out of my life,” he quipped.
Will cleared his throat loudly. “Sorry to interrupt, but I need to throw Excalibur into the lake. Bran, you’re coming with me.”
“All right. And then Arthur will retrieve it?” Bran assumed.
Will nodded.
“I transported them back in front of the locked door leading to this place. Like a boomerang,” Mordred confided in them, lips twisting into an amused smile. “They should return here and find the lake.”
“And are you planning on messing that up too? Drowning him maybe?” Bran accused of him.
Mordred gave a twisted smile. “What a great idea. I’ll add that to my list.”
“The Dark can only hinder and delay Arthur’s claiming of the sword. Since they know full well that they stole Excalibur, they can’t deny the rightful owner from gaining it in the end. Killing Arthur to stop him would be against the High Law. If they think that they can succeed, they're deluding themselves,” Will explained self-assuredly.
“Delusions of grandeur. I may be suffering from that,” Mordred announced idly. He didn’t sound too serious about it.
“I wouldn’t be surprised. And what are you going to do when Will and I are at the lake? Perform a demon summoning?” Bran asked in a caustic tone.
“I only do those on Sundays,” Mordred said, shrugging.
“Are you really helping us or are you just here to be annoying?” Bran wondered.
“Isn’t that the eternal question?” Mordred asked vaguely. “I have my own reasons for what I do,” he said in a guarded tone.
“Well okay. If you want to be secretive,” Bran said dismissively.
“Anyway, you two should do the sword in the lake thing. I’ll be here when you return. Then we can really get started,” Mordred declared.
“All right. Come on, Bran,” Will said to him, beckoning him forward.
As the pair climbed downhill, Mordred disappeared magically once he was out of sight from the two. He had a matter of his own to take care of.
~ * ~
“Are you feeling better, Arthur?” Gwen asked, a deep note of concern in her voice. “About not getting Excalibur?”
“I think talking to that Merlin helped,” Arthur said optimistically. “I know I shouldn’t trust anyone who lives here, but still it’s Merlin…and I couldn’t help but trust him. He said he was a construct pulled from a book, that his mind was his own.”
“Arthur, I hate to say this, but are you sure you were talking to a living person? Because when we looked, we saw the man you were talking to with his head on the desk, and blood coming from his neck. The blood was staining his beard,” Lancelot informed him uneasily. “It was unnerving to see you acting like he was talking to you when I swear that man was dead.”
Gwen nodded in agreement.
Arthur frowned. He re-opened the door to the room he had encountered that other version of Merlin. He still saw him there, very much alive. His head was bent over a book and he was taking notes as well.
“I don’t see a dead man. Maybe the both of you were supposed to see him differently,” Arthur concluded reasonably.
“I must admit it’s eerie. I won’t be much for sleeping tonight,” Gwen said honestly.
Arthur let out a long sigh. He peeked into the room again. “I don’t see him anymore. What about you two?” He asked.
Gwen and Lancelot looked into the room as well. They both shook their heads. “We don’t see him anymore either,” Gwen confirmed, though she still seemed worried.
“Anyway, alive or dead, Merlin did tell me the sword should be in a lake now in the same place we were just at. I’m sure it was just that blood that stopped me from getting Excalibur. But I won’t let that deter me. So we’re all going to return there,” Arthur decided, a note of finality in his voice.
Gwen and Lancelot couldn’t do anything but agree with that. After all, they needed to get Excalibur no matter what. Even if the pair was of the belief that Arthur had received the information from a dead man.
~ * ~
As soon as Mordred slipped into Merlin’s room within the mansion, the old wizard looked up from his usual place behind his book-laden desk. He had been expecting Mordred to come.
“Did you do it?” Mordred asked Merlin as he shut the door.
He sat down in the empty chair in front of Merlin’s desk.
“There was nothing to be done,” Merlin answered curtly. “The Black Rider certainly did a number on him. I’m glad I didn’t have to do anything. I find the whole business distasteful. I only listened to him.”
Mordred sighed. “Yes, I figured you’d think that. But you read his thoughts though?”
“Yes of course. Just to see how things were progressing. Personally, I think it’ll all come to nothing, but all in all, it is not my problem,” Merlin remarked, a small hint of relief in his tone.
Merlin then peered down at the book he had been studying and made a note on the paper beside the book. The paper was already half full with his notes.
Mordred remained silent, though he personally wanted it to come to something. For a little while at least -- to keep things interesting.
“Do you have it?” Mordred asked hopefully. “What I need?”
Merlin smiled. “Yes I do,” he confirmed. He stood up and went to a shelf full of potions on the far side of the room.
He took one of the vials and returned to his desk. Mordred reached out his hand to take the vial from Merlin.
Merlin shook his head, putting the potion out of the boy’s reach. “First, I need to remind you that this is quite a strong potion,” He expressed to him firmly. “You must be careful, my boy. You only need to take a drop of this once a day. I need to monitor you to make sure you won’t deal with any adverse effects. If you could see me regularly, then that would be best.”
“Right. I understand. If I take too much of it, my magic will explode from within me and I’ll die. It’s the price I’m willing to pay,” Mordred declared solemnly.
Merlin nodded. He handed the vial to Mordred who held it carefully in his hand as if it were a precious object.
Merlin assured him, “By taking this potion, no one can take your magic from you by force. You can trust in that. But your magic will be bound tighter to you than ever before. You may need to find ways to release it, to ease the pressure within you. Though as long as you use the potion correctly and see me, then you should be fine.”
“Thank you,” Mordred said sincerely.
He took care to only drink a drop of the potion - made easier by the small opening of the vial.
“I feel it. It’s working. Thank goodness.”
“Of course it would work,” the old Merlin said proudly. “I do have a talent for potions, I would have to say.”
“Yes. Well, I should go… I appreciate what you’ve done for me,” he thanked Merlin.
Merlin inclined his head.
As Mordred went to leave the room, Merlin spoke, “Gwydion, it’s quite all right to be scared. I feel the same way, you know. My memory has been going a bit funny…anyway… But if you can change that fear into a strength, then you will conquer it. Take care, my boy.”
“See you, Merlin,” Mordred said quietly.
He would not face Merlin because he could feel the tears prickling at his eyes. He hurriedly swiped the wetness away and departed from the room.
~ * ~
“Were you able to read Mordred’s mind, Will?” Bran asked him as they reached the conjured lake.
“Yes, which is interesting in of itself. He had particularly strong mental barriers to prevent anyone from reading even his surface thoughts. But he opened them up a bit for me. And we can trust him. I’m sure of that,” Will said confidently.
“What exactly made you think that?” Bran wanted to know.
“The Dark is all about this place. I think it’s better if we discuss this properly back at the Sanctuary. For now, you just have to take my word for it,” Will decided.
“All right. That sounds like the best idea,” Bran agreed.
Will removed the sword from its encasing and then Bran asked, “Can I throw Excalibur into the lake?”
Will raised his brow, but nodded. “Yes, if you want to. As long as it gets into the lake, it doesn’t matter who throws it.”
He gave the sword to Bran who threw it into the water.
Then the pair of them headed back up the hill. Bran wondered if Mordred would truly be there as he promised. But then Will said something to him, causing Bran to scoff weakly, shoving Will in the shoulder. Yet Bran couldn’t help but smile all the same.
~ * ~
“I don’t want to get my shirt wet,” Arthur said as he took it off, and threw it to the ground.
Gwen twisted her lips, trying hard not to smile. “Imagine what people would say if there was a version of the tale where King Arthur goes skinny-dipping to retrieve Excalibur from the lake. Now that’s a story to tell the children,” she declared in an amused tone.
“Gwen, it may look like water, but it’s really vodka… I told you this before,” Lancelot said, teasing her.
“Oh shut up, love,” she retorted.
She pulled Lancelot toward her and kissed him.
“Well, I’m planning to keep my pants on,” Arthur said with a half-smile. He kicked off his shoes and removed his socks too. “Wish me luck.”
“Are you sure you won’t drown, Arthur?” Gwen brought up in deep concern. “This is the Dark’s stronghold after all. They would do anything to stop you from gaining the sword.”
“I have a good feeling about this. And I’m a strong swimmer. I’ll be fine, you’ll see,” Arthur said self-assuredly, his tone arrogant.
Gwen bit her lip, but nodded. Lancelot squeezed her shoulder to comfort her.
“I’m going in after you if anything does go wrong,” Lancelot told him.
“I wouldn’t expect any less from you,” Arthur remarked, clapping him on the shoulder.
He entered the lake, and started swimming and looking for the glint from Excalibur that lay at the lake’s bottom.
When Arthur saw it, he told the others, and he dived toward the sword.
When he grasped the hilt of Excalibur, he felt that nothing could beat this moment of happiness and overwhelming relief.
Clutching the sword, Arthur swam back to the surface. He noticed that the hilt had no blood on it this time around.
He held up the sword to show Gwen and Lancelot that he had gotten it.
They smiled, grateful that he finally had the sword.
Soon after Arthur reached the shore and put back on his shirt, socks and shoes; the three of them placed their hands on the sword.
The sword transported them back to the Sanctuary as they had been told it would.
They had succeeded in getting Excalibur. Despite Arthur’s inner conflict, he still felt like he could taste victory… that the apocalypse would end with the world being safe from the manipulation of the Dark.
~ * ~
Freya dreamed that she was standing before a lake. She looked down at herself to see that she was donned in a deep purple gown, one that she certainly wouldn’t be able to afford.
The water sprites of the lake were calling to her. Freya felt anxious and excited all at once. It was a strange mix of emotions.
“You are the Lady, the Lady of the Lake,” the water sprites said in unison, their voices were like music to her ears. “When we ask it of you, will you come? Will you?” They inquired of her earnestly.
Freya smiled at them. “Of course. Of course I will. I would never turn my back on my calling.”
The sprites danced upon the lake, happy at her words.
The scene changed to her standing in the lake with a sword in her hands. Until the end of time itself, she thought, as she disappeared and took the sword along with her.
When Freya woke up, she couldn’t quite remember what she had dreamed about. But she was sure it had been a good dream, and she couldn’t keep from smiling the rest of the day.
~ * ~
Chapter 5