Arthur barely felt the claw of the massive wolf scrape across his arm, though he knew by the spray of blood into the air that it had. He tried to avert his eyes from the carnage in front of him, knowing he'd see this horror in his dreams. Probably forever. But he couldn't. The world slowed, and all sound ceased as they fell. Lower the large teeth sank into the expensive cloth his wife had sewn out of love and admiration for the man they had both loved like a brother. Above them Arthur could see the blades, four of them, now attacking the creature, whose pale pink eyes bore into him, even as it ripped through the flesh of another. With a thud, his body recoiled from the ground, only to be slammed back into the hard dirt by the weight of the dragonlord atop him. Cador's wild and desperate eyes above the beast, furiously hacking at its neck could not save them, so he closed his eyes, bracing himself for the weight of the enormous animal to crush them. It never did.

His stomach lurched as time resumed, bile reaching the back of his throat, the roar of battle assaulted him once more. He squinted, partially opening his eyes, watching in fascination as the loathsome creature lifted into the air away from them. His intrigue was quickly replaced by dread as he dared to glance to his right, sure he'd finally see the horrifying glow of magic in Merlin's eyes. No other explanation seemed logical. But he didn't. Less rational was his relief at finding the beast clutched in the sharp talons of a white dragon almost half its size. In the grand scheme of things, that turn events wasn't much better. Was it? Surely if Merlin had magic, he'd have used it then, wouldn't he? It defied reason the man would rather die than use it if he could. But Merlin hadn't. What did that mean, he wondered to himself, continuing the war he'd been waging in his head for an hour now, even as they battled the foul beasts for just as long.

Above them, Cador screamed an obscenity, throwing himself toward them, though Arthur's eyes still struggled to leave the man who had stood beside him through everything. The same man who had just made him a fool in front of his kingdom. Now curling in on himself grunting in pain Merlin rolled over and off him. Alive then.

Swatting Leon and Percival away as they made to drag him from the current onslaught, he pulled himself to his feet, his arm dangling by his side. He could feel the blood rushing down his fingers, but he didn't care. Not anymore. He looked back to Merlin, cradling his arm, half bent in pain, eyes wild in the throes of suffering and didn't envy him. He'd taken that wound for him and would likely die as a result. Arthur wasn't sure how he felt about it. That realization brought the bile back to his mouth, as his gut twisted in agony; Choking down the sick sitting at the back of his throat he surveyed the scene, refusing once again to be distracted by it all.

The perimeter they'd defended had thankfully been made larger throughout the battle, owing some to the dragons that made quick work of the creatures straying too far into the clearing. The smaller dragon, he'd not even known had existed, was able to get closer to the men than its larger counterpart, picking up the wolves one by one. Still, they kept coming from the trees in a never-ending stream of horror. His stomach lurched again as he realized the small dragon had never gotten as close to them as it had just done, pulling the creature from atop them. Was that owing to its allegiance to Merlin? Just how far had the Old Religion defiled the man's soul? Could he be cleansed of its revolting influence and saved, or was it too late?

In front of him Bruenor and Cal, Dyfed's knights, both battered, bruised and bleeding sliced at the new barrage of wolves, attempting to drive them back far enough for the white dragon to reach them. It had been their game plan since the small creature had shocked them with its presence since it provided closer cover than the great dragon, now knocking down trees indiscriminately as it targeted the rest of the wolves still under the canopy. He wasn't sure how he felt about that, either, as his eyes surveyed the damage the beast wrought, weighing it against their current circumstances. He could only be grateful for the continued downpour that kept the foliage from lighting, even as it made their footing and grip more challenging. Battling together with the dragons, he snorted ruefully. He had never failed or dishonored his father more than he had, on this day. Merlin's fault, he thought to himself in an unsuccessful attempt to make himself feel better about it all.

"If we're going to go down, we'll go down fighting," Gwaine screamed, launching himself back into the frenzy.

Arthur smirked in response, honored the man would repeat his words from their first official battle together. Still, he found himself unable to move, nauseous and dizzy, he fought to stay on his feet. Probably from the blood loss, he sighed, glancing down at the small puddle at his feet, diluted by the rain, but plentiful enough to remain red. Merlin had tried to save his life, but it all likelihood it was in vain. The effort had probably cost him his own. Hard to hold that against him, he supposed.

"Get back" Cador appeared in his face, pushing at his chest hard enough to send him tumbling backward.

"What the hell?"

"Just do it," Cador commanded, as he realized his cousin had Merlin's uninjured arm draped around his shoulders as he dragged them both to a blackened stump behind them. Gingerly placing his charge against the charred wood, he pulled off his plackart, tossing the heavy breastplate on the muddy soil beneath their feet.

"Are you crazy?" Arthur asked as Merlin protested. Almost relieved by the litany of insults spewing from the incorrigible former servant's mouth because it provided him a moment's respite. A familiar sense of normality he feared he'd never experience again. Maybe his Merlin was still in there after all.

"Are you done?" Cador hissed in Merlin's face, ignoring the insults as he used his knife to rip into his gambeson, Tearing the thick material into strips.

"Leave me," Merlin commanded fruitlessly, shaking the man away as he used the material to tie a tourniquet around the man's leg, then arm. "Not a chance." Cador shot back with a grin as he climbed over his King and roughly tied the cloth around Arthur's injured arm.

"That was stupid." Arthur demurred, nodding toward the armor lying at his feet.

"At least I'm trying." Cador snapped, roughly dropping his injured arm by his side once more. And here Arthur had thought they had made a little progress. Ignoring his ire, he glanced over Cador's shoulder watching as the men were driven back by another onslaught of wolves. Probably the most intense surge they'd experienced thus far. Just how many packs were they dealing with, anyway?

"Look out!' Arthur yelled, as three of the beasts took to the air soaring over the knight's heads, and towards them.

Reaching for the sword, he was sure he had dropped and wouldn't be able to swing anyway, his breath hitched. Cador's weapon at his feet, he'd have no time to reclaim it, and no armor to deflect the razor-sharp teeth and claws now hurling toward them. The charred log at their back prevented a retreat, leaving the three of them cornered, and weaponless.

"For the love of Camelot," He screamed, almost grateful his death would not be slow. Beside him Cador's eye's widened, his arms swinging towards the imbecile who had managed to pull himself from the ground and launch himself into the air by pushing off from Cador's shoulder. The action sent his cousin careening into Arthur's already injured arm. Grunting they both hit the ground, helpless as Merlin dove toward the creatures, arms outstretched, and roared a sound unlike any he'd heard before. Loud enough to be heard over the chaos, or had the battle just ceased? He couldn't be sure as a great shudder rippled through the earth sending all the men to the floor as they lost their footing. He eyes widened as his ears rang, almost becoming painful his body lurched forward the sensation of suction pulling him into a massive vortex terrifying him. Taught like a bowstring, the air thinned, and then it stopped. With a jolt, Arthur's ears popped as the pressure released flinging them all backward. Grunting as his head snapped back, he watched in fear and amazement as Merlin was tossed like a ragdoll over their heads, landing with a sickening crack several meters behind them.

Stunned by the scene before him, Arthur felt, rather than saw, Cador crawl over him, while he and the rest of the men sat motionless, unable to process the absolute destruction now becoming visible as an enormous dust cloud began to settle in front of them. The small forest, they'd been battling at first to save from flame, and then escape the wolves, was now gone — a flattened wasteland left in its place.

"Kilgharrah!" Cador's voice, nearly hysterical, echoed around him as he watched the man stumbling over giant clumps of now upturned earth frantically dragging Merlin's limp body toward the center of the decimated field.

"Merlin!" Gwaine yelled fearfully as the giant dragon roared, diving towards the two men.

Dropping Merlin's body Cador stumbled back, falling to the ground, he resorted to inching himself away from the battered body on his back with his elbows, his eyes focused on the enormous dragon as it landed only meters in front of them. Biting back a gasp, Arthur watched as the dragon opened its jaw shooting an ethereal blue flame, unlike any he'd ever seen before, over Merlin's body. Within seconds the smaller creature joined its counterpart, expelling a gold mist from its maw into the unnatural inferno.

Was this the equivalent of a pyre, he wondered? Oddly detached from the scene playing out in front of him.

"Gwaine!" Percival called out as the rogue knight rushed forward, only to be stopped by Cador, who scrambled to his feet and barreled into the knight, wrapping his arms around the man's middle pushing him away from the horrible scene. He'd meant to order Gwaine back, to let Cador deal with the body but he found he could not speak. He could only watch as the cerulean flame revolved around the man he'd loved like a brother. It had taken just seconds for the two strangers came to Cador's aid, unsurprising since the temporary alliance seemed to be with the knight, rather than any nation. Still, he quirked his brow as they pulled their blades on Percival and Leon preventing their attempt to tear the two quarreling men apart. That feat finally managed as the dragon abruptly spread its wings and took flight. Arthur scarcely breathed as his eyes followed Merlin's limp body, clutched tightly in the talons of the great dragon, as it banked over the forest. Well, what was the forest, before it'd been razed entirely to the ground, leaving visible the corpses of the many wolves left untouched by their fire.

"Is he dead?" Leon finally asked as Cador lifted his head from the dirt and wiped his mouth. A puddle of sick below him. Rolling onto his back Cerniw's knight shook his head in the negative as he tried to catch his breath, his eyes on the retreating beasts.

"How do you know?" Percival murmured, as he watched the dragons, now barely a speck in the morning sky, disappear over the black peaks, made more prominent by the absence of trees that had once obscured their view.

The dragon hadn't burned Merlin's body to ash as was customary in dragon lord culture. Arthur opened his mouth to share that little bit of knowledge he'd read in the tomes Geoffrey had provided. Instead, he stared at his cousin, torn over what he was supposed to do now. The words of his father, spoken in a long-forgotten memory he'd only recalled hours ago reverberated in his mind. As he opened his mouth to speak, he found the only words he could muster were, "Arrest him."

"Your Grace."

"Galahad." Constans nodded, slowly making his way into the solar, now, at least partially, occupied by his nephew. Balinor was as much his brother as Uther, and thus none would tell him otherwise what the boy was to him even if technically they were cousins, once removed. The last time he'd laid his eyes on Merlin he'd been about fourteen winters. Of course, Merlin hadn't know who he was at the time, and his penchant at asking questions had ended their interactions, but Constans had treasured every minute he'd gotten.

His decision to take residence at his Devon Estate half a day's ride to the west had prevented him from being here when Merlin arrived days hence, and he'd been waiting anxiously to see him come through that door, since.

"Niv." He nodded to the young woman he was supposed to acknowledge as a Princess and Regent. Even after all these years, he struggled with both. Instead, he fell back on the nickname she'd used as a child, which was more comfortable for him.

"My Lord," she replied, her voice restrained as she followed him into the ante-chamber once reserved for the Queen's maid. Not that Hunith had used it as such. It seemed her son had begun to position the room for his use. Considering what the room contained, it only made sense.

"You know of the door," she asked quietly, as she followed his gaze to the oak slab in the center of the room.

"Don't ask me questions you know the answer to," he sighed, still fuming she knew of the door at all, a circumstance he'd already given Ector a piece of his mind over.

"If you're hoping I can open it, I assure you, I cannot. And even if I could, which, again, I cannot, I wouldn't do so without Merlin's permission."

"Your son is trapped on the other side of that wall."

"My son is a grown man who can more than handle himself, and so is Merlin for that matter. You're certain Arthur knows of the door?" He looked toward Galahad, who appeared almost as annoyed by this impromptu meeting as he was.

"I never said that. I only repeated what I saw."

"Care to do it again?"

"There was a minor skirmish, Cador waved me back before Arthur stepped onto the landing, and he shook his head at me through the shimmer while they argued. Then Arthur slammed it closed." Galahad shrugged.

"Did it look like they were arguing about the door, itself?"

"I didn't get that sense, no."

"I thought you said Cador had his sword to Arthur's throat." Niviane huffed.

"He did."

"And you call that a minor skirmish?"

"Men with swords, when startled, pull them, my lady. They stood down as soon as Arthur realized who was opposite him."

"Sounds to me like Arthur has no idea what that door is. He slammed a closet door shut as he and my son exchanged words, nothing more." Constans reasserted himself, irritated by the interrogation from someone this did not even concern.

"Yes." Galahad agreed.

"How could you come to such a far-fetched conclusion," Niviane asked, crossing her arms across her light blue bodice sternly.

"Because I know my son. Cador motioned Galahad to retreat which means he wanted to preserve the status quo."

"That doesn't explain why Merlin has yet to re-open it."

"It's not yet been three hours, and the sun just rose; This is not a crisis, Merlin will open it when he can, until then we'll just wait."

"You don't think he should travel by regular means?

"And how would he explain his arrival when to Arthur's knowledge he never departed, Niviane?"

"When did we start caring what Arthur thinks?"

"I can no longer tell if you're trying too hard to prove yourself, or just being obstinate," the elder Pendragon snapped, raising his voice and his brow in exasperation. "If you don't understand why that matters, you only strengthen my position."

"He's hunting the dragon, that alone merits a response." Niviane snapped back.

"You forget yourself, child. If Merlin feels a response is appropriate, he'll damn well do it himself."

"The Duke is right, my lady. Merlin has this well in hand and will not appreciate interference. We wait."

"So be it, we shall wait then," Niviane replied, vexed she'd been countered but determined the last word would be hers. He didn't give a damn. It changed nothing. She was out of line and had been ever since Merlin arrived through the blasted door, and she'd realized her influence had significantly diminished as a result.

Nodding at Galahad to follow him, Constans departed the large chambers, not bothering with pleasantries. No longer would he entertain her fantasy, and if their relationship suffered the result, so be it.

"What of the boy?"

"Don't let him hear you call him that, my lord. He's a good man, but a grown one and not shy with his opinion."

"That runs in the family," Constans chuckled, eliciting a snort from the younger knight.

"Cador has spent more time with him than I, he'd be able to tell you more personal details, but I've seen enough to know I'll recognize no regent."

"Aye," Constans grunted his agreement, still infuriated by the gall of the young woman they'd just departed. "And what of Arthur?"

"He's an enigma. Their relationship is odd. I think there is some genuine care there, but only to a point. When it comes to Uther, all bets are off between them. Arthur has great reverence for his father and follows his beliefs."

"Well, we knew that," Constans nodded, not for the first time regretting his departure from Camelot's courted prevented any attempt to shield the child. What's done was done, he shook himself out of the thought, pushing past the familiar sting of regret he'd battled to silence for decades.

Stepping out into the early morning sun, he shielded his eyes, nodding in greeting to Lady Murdoch, and Lady Tennor, both out on their morning stroll in the square. Filling his lungs with the clear, crisp air, still dampened by the dew he watched as the people began their day, setting up their stalls along the inner bailey, many displaying the colors or crest of their King whose return they still celebrated. Within moments the first tuft of black smoke rose into the air as the forge, and thus, the kingdom opened for business.

"My Lord, the dragon's approach," Galahad nodded toward the rapidly moving creature in the northern sky, inching closer by the second. Soon the entire inner ward turned to whispers and then cheering as the people turned their gaze upward — tales of the dragon's fantastic display and Merlin's arrival escaping their lips. The mark of loyalty in their skies had stunned him, prompting his, and every other member of the peerage to return to the grand castle. Lords and citizens, alike, from the further settlements, still arrived by the day.

But this approach was much different from the previous. Kilgharrah was flying lower, faster, and with purpose, one of its giant legs extended unnaturally. Pushing past the fear that slithered up his spine, he turned toward the people, now gathering in the center of the square for a glimpse.

"He means to land, disperse," He yelled over the volume of their excited voices, physically pushing several people back, with hopes the mass would follow. The dragons had only ever landed in the courtyard as a matter of emergency, so even as a child, it had been rare. Still, more than a generation had passed since the event had occurred, leaving so many here, now, with no idea what was about to happen.

Soon the battlements were full as the castle emptied, each drawn to the mighty roar leaving the great dragon's maw as it banked toward them. Finally realizing the dragon's intentions people began to scream, running to the edges of the outer wall, looking over their shoulders in disbelief. Constans breathe hitched, gasping to fill his now emptied lungs with air, as his eyes locked on the dragon's foot, and the limp form clutched within it. Constans heart plummeted.

"Ector!" He screamed, tearing towards the castle steps, scanning the battlements for the physician while barking orders to any knight or guard within earshot to bring a stretcher and the physician. The warning bells, now clanging in the background startled the crowd into silence in front of him. Niviane finally appeared next to him, watching the dragon curiously as it heaved its giant wings, preparing to land. A horrified silence fell over the castle, as they began to comprehend what, or rather, who, the dragon carried. The silence broke as Galahad rushed forward screaming the King's name.

"Pendragon," Kilgharrah spoke, as three of its legs contacted the ground, carefully opening the fourth, revealing the broken body of Balinor's son. To his great relief, Ector and several members of the knight's highest ranks surged forward, assisting Galahad by gently lifting Merlin onto a stretcher. Within seconds they were gone, disappearing into the castle.

"What happened?" He finally found his voice, visibly shaken by the sight of the young man, whose muddy, blood-soaked clothing hung shredded from his body, revealing wounds no man had any right to survive.

"Dire wolves roam these lands. I've healed the young warlock of the poisonous bite and restored the flesh and tissue, but I cannot reset the bones."

"A pack attacked him?"

"Nearly a hundred swarmed them, and I sense many more lying in wait, even as we speak."

"What of the coasts?" Constans paled, trying to imagine that horror, knowing his son and heir would have been in the fray by Merlin's side.

"An embarrassment and affront to your ancestors. Vigilance must be restored."

"In short order, I assure you."

"Let us hope that is true. I will join Aithusa and do what I can."

"I appreciate that." Constans nodded, embarrassed and infuriated once again over the state of affairs since Balinor's death.

"What of Camelot?" Constans asked, his mind reeling as he'd recognized the threat. Merlin had indicated Saxon's interest in the mount, though he was pretty sure a patrol had yet to be dispatched. Something he would rectify immediately.

"Significantly damaged." The great dragon replied, the deep timbre of his voice suddenly lined with amusement,

"From dire wolves?"

"From Merlin," Kilgharrah chuckled. "But I fear his display of temper will not be without consequences."

"They rarely are," Constans agreed, wondering at the details. The Ravens would fly soon enough, and they would learn more. Whatever the consequences he hoped it would stay the ambition of those who thought to test him, including Arthur.

"And the others?" His heart clenched at the thought of his son's unknown status.

"Young Cador was uninjured when I left him, but his situation now, I do not know."

Nodding, his understanding, he fought down the panic that threatened to overwhelm him. Stepping back as he unfurled his wings, the Kilgharrah looked around the courtyard, and bellowed, "The King Lives. Long Live the King," before departing into the sun.

Taking in the dragon's warnings, he clenched his hands into a fist, finding himself anxious for the first time in years. Balinor had worried about the coasts when the enchantment eventually fell. After his death, the court had considered it less of a priority than their internal squabbling as they positioned themselves in a bid for more power. As a parent, he understood why Hunith hadn't returned then, but as the Queen Mother and rightful regent for her son, she could have passed through the rock, and it was her duty to do so.

"What did he say?" Startled from his thoughts, the elder Pendragon turned to find Niviane watching him as Kilgharrah's parting phrase was repeated in chorus by the now hundreds of people around them.

"You didn't hear him?" He rushed past her interested by that development. If a dragon didn't want to be heard by an audience, he could magically create a barrier to prevent others from hearing. But Niv had ties to the creature through her heritage. He'd assumed she would have been immune. He almost lamented the fact she hadn't heard Kilgharrah's reprimand. Then again, preventing her participation was an insult in its own right — a large one at that.

"Outside of that last bit, no. Whatever Kilgharrah said to you, he made sure others could not listen."

"Interesting. Then it was not meant for your ears." Constans grunted, taking the steps to the citadel two at a time, cursing time and the extra weight he'd put on since he'd retired with slowing down his stride.

"I know you no longer support me as regent, why I'll never understand, and maybe someday I can forgive you for it. But as of now I still retain that title, and this Kingdom remains my responsibility, so I'm asking you to report."

"Did you send a patrol to the mount as Merlin asked?" He spun on her, his hold on his temper tenuous.

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Did you or not?"

"Mark suggested I bring it to the council this morning and I agreed."

"You fool," Constans spat, turning from her before he gave her a piece of his mind.

"I answered your question; now I'll have my question answered."

Ignoring her query, he dodged the rush of foot traffic that now filled the corridors as people departed the main square.

"My Lord, Duke," she followed behind him, I gave you an order, and I'll see it obeyed."

"My Lady," he turned to face her, struggling to control his temper. "You are in no position to give me an order. You ignored a request from our king and endangered him, and this kingdom as a result. I've had enough of this sense of entitlement your fool family has instilled in you, and it ends now. Your participation in these events just ceased. That, my lady, is an order. Now if you'll excuse me." Constans huffed leaving the chastised young woman in his wake; he turned into the winding staircase to Ector's chambers, once again cursing age and pastries for the increased time it took him to reach his destination.

"What news?" He called out, breathlessly, as he entered the room, noticing several members of the King's Guard in the corner, watching on somberly.

"Thankfully nothing was shattered." Ector looked up from his table and nodded toward his patient. "There were two fractures in the spine, I've set the bones and fused them back together, the breaks were clean, so they'll heal and won't have any lasting impact — several cracked ribs, but none broken. I've wrapped them and the broken leg for now. Timbia has gone to get the herbs I need to mend those more delicate areas. Both of his arms were out of their sockets, I've put them back, but he'll hate life when he wakes up."

"Good Goddess. Will he live?"

"Hard to believe by the looks of him. But yes. He doesn't seem to have any internal injuries, owed I'm guessing to his dragon. I'm most concerned about the blood on the back of his head, but I can't find any abrasion or fracture. Either the blood isn't his, or Kilgharrah healed his skull, too. These though," Ector pointed to the several healing puncture wounds on the man's arm, leg, and stomach, "there's more on his back. It looks like something tried to take a giant bite out of him. What the hell happened?"

"They were swarmed by Dire Wolves. Kilgharrah said he healed the poison and restored his flesh and tissue."

"Dire wolves? In this land, now? With as powerful as he's said to be, he's lucky he's not dead."

"If he didn't have a dragon right there to heal him, he probably would be."

Ector grunted in agreement, "It's been a relatively quiet twenty-years, I suppose that's over now, isn't it."

"Count on it. Is there any way to wake him, or any reason he'd still be out?"

"I was worried of a head injury, but if the dragon healed his tissue, then that can't be it."

"He expended an awful lot of magic. Would that matter?"

"I suppose it would depend, he's unique even amongst his kind, but I wouldn't think it likely unless he expended a lot of it while the poison ran through his veins. Then, perhaps. How much magic did he do?"

"He razed part of Camelot to the ground. They have extensive damage."

"He did what?" Constans turned toward the door slack-jawed, his movement mirrored by the physician and every one of Merlin's King's Guard loitering in the room.

"He flattened the forest," Galahad shook his head and handed him the rolled piece of parchment.

"For leagues, they haven't been able to access all the damage yet, but the draw-bridge is damaged, part of the outer curtain as well."

"Long Live the King." Lamorak, third in command after Galahad, chuckled, followed by snorts and murmurs of agreement from his counterparts.

Biting his lip, Galahad toward his knight and shook his head. "As impressive as that is, Cador, Lady Hunith, and Lucan have been arrested. Manafort believes he's about to be, and they're conducting a manhunt for me."

"His father's son, then," Constans gripped the parchment tightly in his fist. "He says Arthur has significant injuries and the court is in chaos. And no, you shouldn't go," the elder commander raised his brow at the boy, knowing what he was considering. "You'll be arrested on sight and used as leverage against us. We need you here. As much as I hate to say it, our best course of action is to wait. Arthur is not stupid enough to harm a hair on their heads, especially after seeing what Merlin is capable. Merlin knows these people and what they're capable of far better than any of us. He is King. This is his call."

"We're just to leave them in the cells, prisoner?"

"Do you think he's going to leave his Mother in a cell to be used as leverage against him?"

"Not a chance."

"What's the quickest way into Camelot that you know of at the moment?"

"Ah." Galahad nodded turning to bark orders at the group of knights before turning to face the physician. "Ector, I need him awake and coherent and moved to his chambers. The sooner, the better."

WELP