The Storm Chapter 23

Chapter 23


He couldn’t breathe. Every time he struggled to bring in the much needed oxygen his chest burned. Outside of his struggle he could hear someone talking. It was his physician, Edmund, who was speaking to someone else. The words filtered passed the wheezing of his struggle, “He has severe pneumonia. I fear there is nothing to be done for him. I cannot cure this.”

A feminine voice asked, “How are we to save him? He is our king!” It sounded like Morgana, but Arthur had never heard her so stressed before. He tried to open his eyes, but his body was not cooperating with him. Just breathing continued to be the only thing he could do. He had never been so weak before.


His first knight spoke then, bringing the count of people in the room to four at least, “We sought out a physician within a group that was in the forest and they said that the only one who could possibly save the king’s life is a man named Emrys.” Arthur didn’t remember ever leaving Merlin, let alone coming across anyone in the forest on their way back. A lot of his memory is fog and he wondered whether he was dreaming now. He felt he must be back into the castle again. A sharp hit of thunder outside of his window also alerted to him that the storm was still raging as well.

They had failed and it sounded like he was dying. Their voices filtered in and out as they discussed finding this man who could save him. Leon must have ran out to follow an order of something by Morgana. The physician then gave his own leave.

He struggled some more with opening his eyes when he heard another shift of fabric. Morgana must have still been in the room with him. He couldn’t even groan to let her know he was awake. Then she started to talk as if to herself, “Oh Arthur. What have you gotten yourself into this time? I wonder if you had been lying to me all of this time. Did you know that the peasant had the use of magic to his ability? How could he have stand to hear every one of his kind being burned, beheaded and hanged outside of his window time and time again? I wept, you know? I wept with every death your father cast down from on his balcony. You stood there like a good child and watched each one later. I even begged for their lives at times, too. He would have nothing of it, though. I had hoped you would have been different, but I know you are not. You are just like your father before you.” She sighed and they were in silence so long he had come to think she had left again. “Emrys…” she said suddenly in a way that brought him to think she was contemplating something horrible. “I wonder if he is the one who could stop this storm, as well? I need to go, my dear king, and find this man. He sounds awfully powerful.” Her skirts rustled and her heels clicked against the stone flooring as she left the chamber.

Arthur was once again alone struggling to breath. Inside, though, he wondered why he felt horror at Morgana finding this Emrys. If she found the great sorcerer quick enough then he would survive… right?

~*~*~ Tzuzuku~*~*~



The Storm Chapter 22

Disclaimer: I do not own BBC Merlin nor Disney’s Frozen. I am making no money off of this story.

Chapter 22

It was cold. The air was damp and chilly against his skin. He felt his body shiver before his left hand dropped from where it had been draped against his chest. The splash and sudden plunge of his arm into icy cold water jolted him awake. He gasped as he brought the dripping appendage back up and against him.

Slowly he sat up on what he found to be a stone slab bed. It had hay, wet and cold, to make it softer to lay on. Above him was a small window, too small to climb out of. It was dripping down the wall and onto the stone floor below. All around him was a good depth of water gathered. Across from him were bars. He was in dungeons.

‘Camelot’s?’, he wondered. Probably. Arthur must have come back or sent his knights to take him.

He wondered and worried for his dragon. He hoped the beast was alright. He wondered how many of the knights were also injured during the fight. He was sure there would be many casualties.

He needed to get out; he needed to escape again. He gathered courage and put his boots into the water. It sloshed and soaked over the top to his toes inside. He bit his lower lip to stop himself from screaming out. It was like a frozen lake had broke free and surrounded his legs. He started to slowly breathe in and out again. His breath having hitched in his attempt to not yell.

Now that the shock of the cold water was done, he scooted over to the bars. The water was deep even there. It seemed the castle was flooding. He noticed that he was in the upper dungeons. His memory of the layout of the castle served him, still. The lower levels must have been completely under the water. He was hoping someone had had the forethought to pull the prisoners from those depths before the water had drowned them. He pushed away those thoughts as they caused him to tremble more.

He brought his hands up to grasp the freezing cold bars of his cell. His long sleeves moved up on his arms and he saw something odd around his wrists. He hadn’t noticed them before. Two, one for each side, shackles were locked around him. ‘Probably to chain me later,’ he reasoned.

He pushed out slightly with his magic hoping to unlock the dungeon door. Nothing happened. He shook his head and concentrated again. Inside he tried to find that sense to use that always just was his magic. This time, instead of nothing happening, a jolt of pain shot from his wrists to his chest. He let go of the bars to stumble back and grab the front of his shirt.

He decided to shuffle back to the bench and pull his soaked feet from the water. Breathing was difficult at first for him, but soon everything subsided. The pain ceased and his vision once again cleared.

The shackles. They weren’t there to chain him up. They were enchanted to suppress his magic. The chaotic magic had never been controlled like this before. His blue eyes glared at them in anger.

As he fumed at being trapped again, he heard a noise coming down the halls. Someone was entering the dungeons and sloshing through the flood. Two red cloaked guards shown and opened the cell door. It didn’t take them much to pull the struggling warlock from his new cage.

“Let me go!” Merlin yelled. His demands fell on deaf ears.

He was dragged up the stairs to the throne room. Inside the large room where he had been first sentenced to his solitary years with the court physician sat Arthur’s uncle and Morgana. Beside the dark haired woman was a boy in knights clothes who glared back at Merlin with hostility.

“Sorcerer,” Agrevaine ground out, “stop this storm immediately.”

Merlin glared back, but inside he trembled, “I can’t. I don’t know how I started it.”

Morgana pleaded with him, “You must stop it. People are dying. Don’t you care about people?”

Merlin nodded, “I do care, but I don’t know how!”

The king’s uncle stood from his throne, “Then I have no choice. I sentence you to hang in the morning. May your death end this plague on Albion.”

The guards took a now frightened and screaming Merlin away from the acting monarch, “Please! No! I didn’t mean to do it! Please!!” His screams could be heard for ten minutes until they had securely brought him back to the upper dungeons.


Outside of the outer walls of Camelot stood Gwen, the men, and Arthur in Percival’s arms. They scrambled for the sanctuary of the city inside. Leon took the king from the burly man and rushed for the inner castle. They needed to find Emrys and soon.


The Storm Chapter Twenty-One

Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin BBC. I don’t own Frozen, either.

Chapter Twenty-One

Gwaine, with a bit of drink now coursing through him, was more amiable than before. They sat the night away underneath Gwen’s coverings, but they wouldn’t be able to stay longer. The sun would come up and they would need to move forward to somewhere else. One thing they all knew, though, was that they hadn’t been able to stop the sorcerer. Arthur wasn’t able to convince the boy to cease the torrent raging around them. Flashes of lightning happened during the night and through its light they could all see that the king was very severely injured.

They took turns watching over their small camp during the night, though no one truly slept much. The wind began at some point before dawn and it shoved the rain further into drenching them. Guinevere shivered against the storm and also her own dark thoughts. The king had been gasping for each breath since the beginning of the side-ways rain. It seemed to have been entering into each intake and she feared it had entered his lungs. They had all seen pneumonia before and they had all seen what happens when it cannot be treated.

It was Gwaine, surprisingly, who came up with the solutions as soon as they saw that dawn had reached them. “The druids could probably heal him,” he muttered. He still seemed sore that he had been helping the king, but he was also not going to grudgingly allow the man to die a horrible death such as this illness was giving him. “They will probably do it,” he sighed, “even if they know he would kill them for their ways.”

Everyone didn’t comment on the last bit. They all knew that Arthur was the king of a kingdom that banned sorcery of all types and that the Druids were the most known to practice the rites. Instead Leon asked, “Will we be able to find them?” The part left unsaid was could they find one of the peaceful nomadic tribes before Arthur succumbed to the fluid building in his lungs?

Gwaine shrugged, “Dunno, but it wouldn’t hurt to at least walk until we hope to?” It wasn’t a suggestion as much as a question. He wasn’t a leader. That had been Arthur even if they all didn’t want to admit that. At first they all thought they followed him because he knew who had started the storm, but now the group knew that he had just given off the aura of a leader.

They packed up their crude camp and had started walking south away from the clearing where the sorcerer had been and back toward a path they had known existed. Their feet carried them, once again taking turns to carry the very hurt king, and their way didn’t last long before something shifted in the trees among them. The rain still pelted down as four green robed people melted from the protection of the forest.

The sudden appearance of the group of strangers had everyone on instant alert. It was as if the people had used magic to come from the trunks of the trees and the ferns themselves. Lancelot and Gwaine were the first to stop being tense as they all slowly came to the realization that it was Druids that now surrounded them. The same people who they had hoped to find were the ones to find them first.

One of the men, for that is what these robed people were, walked forward and lowered his hood. His eyes were a light blue and his hair had gone into the deep dark gray of an elder. “My name is Isalder,” he told them. “We mean you no harm.”

“We, as well, do not mean to wish any harm onto your people,” Lancelot told the man as he bowed slightly in a friendly greeting. “We need help. Our friend was hurt in a fight with someone and we think his lungs have filled with sickness.”

Isalder waved to one of the other men who walked forward as Elyan helped to bring Arthur down from Leon’s back. The king’s breath shuddered as the new Druid began to examine his patient laying on the forest mud. The physician, because that is what they assumed he must be, looked up into his leaders eyes for a bit and then back down to the blond.

“We cannot help King Arthur,” Isalder declared to the group.

They gasped as they heard that they hadn’t deceived the Druids. They had thought that if they had kept the man’s true name and status hidden than maybe the nomadic magical people would be more willing to help.

“Please?” Guinevere begged. Tears formed in her eyes as she watched the man next to Arthur shake his head and walk back toward his original tree.

“It isn’t that we are not willing,” Isalder informed them. “We do not have the ability to clear this illness from the Once and Future King.” The group became confused from the use of the odd title as he continued, “This storm is powerful and only Emrys can force it to end. He is the one who is destined to walk with Arthur and he is the only one who can end Arthur’s torment. If he does not, then all will be lost to the darkness that looms in the edges of the future.”

“Who is this Emrys? Where can we find him?” Leon demanded. The Druids stood still. When they didn’t seem to want to divulge any more information Elyan tried, “How can we save Arthur if we cannot find this person you’re speaking of?”

“Emrys is a powerful sorcerer. Go to Camelot and he will be there,” Isalder and the rest of the Druids melted back into the forest as fast as they had emerged.

They didn’t stay long as Leon bent down to allow Lancelot and Elyan to put the king onto his back. They had a long journey and they could now only wish to the gods they made it in time to find this Emrys. ‘But why is a powerful sorcerer in Camelot?’ They all thought to themselves as their feet once again pushed into the mud.


The Storm Chapter Twenty

Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin BBC. I don’t own Frozen, either.

Chapter Twenty

She couldn’t stop worrying as they took turns carrying the golden haired knight, no king is what the sorcerer called him, out of the bundle of underbrush. No matter how gentle they tried to get him to safety they could all see that he was struggling. His pain had to have been high as he slightly coughed and groaned through their journey. As soon as they made it out of the sorcerer’s protective gathering of trees she hurried over to create something that would block the downpour. Using vines and weaving techniques she usually reserved for making baskets and feet mats, she tied together branches of trees and ferns. It wasn’t going to be a perfect covering, but she needed something to lay the man under.

Arthur’s breathing had started to come in short bursts by the time they could hide him under her small roof. Leon looked to her in fear for the man’s life and hope that maybe she could do something.

“I can’t,” she whispered back. The others were in varying states of shock, wonder, and even anger. Elyan was worried for his sister mostly, but worried what would happen if she couldn’t save the king’s life. Percival was tired, since he did most of the carrying of the man, and Lancelot was still in a bit of shock of discovering who this man really was. The ire was coming off of Gwaine, who was now pacing in the pouring rain and stomping into the mud fiercely.

“Bloody king, of all things,” he muttered loudly after a large crack of thunder split the now darkening day. “Had to be helping a blasted noble!”

Leon went to stand up and confront the rogue, but Lancelot placed a well-meaning hand onto the knight’s bicep. He shook his head and stood for the Camelotian.

Lancelot wasn’t afraid of the dark haired man, but he certainly wasn’t stupid. The drunk had thrown himself into a state. “Need a drink?” he asked as he approached like coming upon a wild animal. Gwaine stopped pacing and eyed him suspiciously.

“We have been together on this journey for about two weeks now, and suddenly you have a pint?” The man’s anger was thrown into his words. It spoke volumes of warning and Lancelot understood the threat. Out of the corner of both of their eyes they saw Percival shift slightly. He was getting ready to break up the fight.

“I’ve been keeping it for special occasions. I had thought we would all like a bit after we stopped the storm, but now I think you need it now,” he kept his voice level.

The men all eyed each other as the storm continued to fall down. The only break to their silence was a wheezing cough emitted by the king who still hadn’t regained consciousness.


When the dragon awoke a bit later to the dry sun baking against his scales, he felt peace inside. Merlin opened his eyes as well and they both just enjoyed the peace away from the storm in silence. The sun was dropping beyond the far off gray clouds and they both knew night would be on them soon. Merlin wanted to sleep in his fern bed inside and not on the now dry ground, but he didn’t want to leave yet.

“How do you know me?” he asked suddenly to the dragon. He shifted as the dragon carefully raised his head to regard the small sorcerer beside him. Well, the young man was small to the enormous dragon, at least.

“Your father before you was a Dragon Lord and since his death has come it was passed to you. I have been waiting for you to call me,” a toothy grin was given, “Though I didn’t think it would take you going against the king to do so.”

“I’m sorry. He wants to kill me because I caused this storm,” Merlin stood up and then looked away as the dragon tilted his head in confusion.

“I do not think he would kill you, Merlin. The king needs you,” the dragon felt through the small bond they have that the black haired boy wasn’t ready for this conversation quite yet.

Kilgharrah saw the boy shake his head suddenly as he imagined the thoughts running through it were immense. The child did not understand that his purpose was to be near the king. The dragon held his thoughts to himself, though. “Young warlock,” he called out to gain the dragon lord’s attention.

“What is a warlock?” Merlin asked suddenly. He still didn’t look up. A shiver caught suddenly and he wrapped his arms around himself. He was unsure and scared.

The little bit of advice that Kilgharrah was going to bestow onto the young man was drowned even further back into the dragon’s brain. This boy wasn’t the knowledgeable young man that Gaius had promised would be there to call him when he was able to. This was a terrified child hidden within the confines of an adult body. This boy had the magic only others could dream of, but without the teacher to show how to use it.

Merlin never found out the answer to his innocent question as the trees burst suddenly spewing out fifty soldiers. The dragon reared up to defend his master as Merlin went to hide inside the house. The warlock never made it into the confines of the tree fort. The dragon was so distracted by the swords, spears, and arrows that he didn’t even notice when the young magic user snuck upon the dragon lord. Merlin only saw a sudden sight of green to gold before his own world turned black.


The Storm Chapter Nineteen

Chapter 19

A rhythmic thunder sounded through the sky as Mordred looked up. He saw a black shape fly high above him and he wondered if he had hallucinated. A dragon or something else? He thought hard to remember some of the books Morgana had given him about the creatures in the area.

It had to have been a dragon. He called for the knights to hurry and quickly they rushed their steeds into the driving rain. The wind soaked through their chain mail, but Mordred feared they wouldn’t be in time.


Merlin rushed to his feet as a creatures of great size barreled toward them. Arthur yelled out, “Dragon!” Merlin didn’t stay long where he had been pushed. His feet carried him into his home as the king’s companions drew their weapons.

The maw of the beast opened and hot flame spewed forth. It created a barrier between the sorcerer and the travelers. His scales gleamed a dark red against the bright sun. The clouds came into the clearing for the first time in days as Merlin felt the fear trap into his heart again. He knew the dragon wouldn’t harm him, for he also knew he had someone called the thing to that place, but he feared that Arthur would defeat it. If the king took out the dragon, then he could easily capture and kill Merlin. The other slight fear was that the dragon would kill the king. Even deep down inside of the brunette he felt the friendship was still there. He couldn’t deny that Arthur had been there for him all of those years during his captivity.

The sounds of the battle were harsh against his ears as he snuck a peak through the vines. The men were holding well against the dragon. He could see that even the beast knew Merlin’s heart, because he kept them at bay but did not go in for any serious injury. He hoped they would just tire and give up. He wanted to just be left alone.

If he had known how to stop the storm, he would have done it. He knew that people were dying. He was aware that people were going to die for possibly years to come even after the storm stopped. Homes were gone, fields were flooded, and food stores would be rotten or looted within the next few months. He wasn’t the idiot the king called him. He knew the implications of having such a curse on the land. The problem was that he was also being truthful. He didn’t know how to stop it. He didn’t even know how he had cursed the land in the first place. He knew he had sent out some powerful magic during the celebrations, but he didn’t know that it would cause such suffering. His magic could be unpredictable, but it had never been this full of malice before. He didn’t understand it.

Honestly, even before he had only done damage by breaking vials or exploding candles when he had tried to suppress his magic. He had never done anything such as cursing an entire place. He wondered how his magic could have gotten to the point bring down the heavens on everyone in Albion.

The dragon roared suddenly. It reared up onto its back legs suddenly. Merlin saw a sword embedded deep into its hide of the front. Maneuvering the large body it struck out with the massive tail. The appendage collided with the blond king in a sickening crunch. Throwing the monarch far from the battle and into the tree line. Merlin thought for sure the man had been killed. The others saw their leader tossed and backed away from the fight. The woman, Merlin just really noticed her, ran for Arthur to prop him up and check on him. The rain came down harshly and drowned out the sounds.

Merlin almost ran to join the group to find out if his friend had been killed. They quickly gathered him up. One of the knights, a man with long wild hair, turned sad eyes toward the sorcerer and dragon. Then they rushed out of the now soaked clearing with the body of his king between them.

The dragon groaned and lay down onto the mud beneath. The boy ran out to him and quickly grabbed onto the hilt of the sword. “I have to remove it so I can heal it,” he informed the beat. The dragon nodded in consent, but still screamed out when the blade was pulled from between his tough scales.

“It missed my heart, young warlock,” the dragon spoke to him. He only glanced barely to the new friend as he pushed against the bleeding wound. He shoved his magic into the slash and tried to direct it to help. It didn’t do much and the dragon chuckled, “You are not made to heal me, Merlin.”

He stepped back, “How do you know my name?”

“You called me here. Shouldn’t it be obvious that I would know who you are?” the dragon gave an odd toothy grin even as he settled down farther into the earth. “I am Kilgharrah. I am the last of my kind and you are the only of your kind,” with that said the great golden eyes shut and he lay his large red scaled head down onto the ground. Deep breaths came through with a rumble and Merlin realized the dragon had fallen asleep.

Gathering his magic he forced the sky to open above his clearing once again and bring down sun. The little rain that had come through now was quickly soaking into the ground. The animals were weary of the massive magical creature laying outside of the tree house, but they still came out from hiding.

The sorcerer had a lot to think about. How did he call the dragon to him? It had been an instinct in him to do so and it had felt different than his chaotic magic. Why did Arthur have a woman among his knights? He knew his king wouldn’t bring a woman along on a quest, so how did they end up with one in their group? He looked up to where the sun was shining in the blue sky above. The swirling of grey clouds could be seen on the edges of the tree tops. If he could clear away his little area, could he clear away the storm from all of Albion? No, probably not. He couldn’t even heal his dragon of a sword wound. He wasn’t powerful enough to save Albion from a curse. Even a curse he had someone put onto the land himself.

He leaned against the side of the dragon, being mindful of the wound that was still there but had stopped bleeding. He looked over at where Arthur had landed against the tree on the edge of the forest. Was the king dead? If he wasn’t, would he just leave Merlin alone? Probably not. His blue eyes clouded over and he yawned before falling asleep against the warmth of the scaly hide.


The Storm Chapter Eighteen

Chapter 18

Arthur saw Guinevere yawning next to her brother as they struggled further into the now dense brush. Lancelot stumbled into the back of Gwaine for the fifth time since they had entered the forest. Gwaine mumbled something, but they all knew it would be hazardous if any of them went further apart. It was hard enough on them trying to walk through the ferns and stay in each other’s sights. The king sighed as they once again stumbled past a large tree. They came out the other side and he looked up to search for the bright sun again. In front of him were dark clouds and over to the left of his vision was the bright golden light they sought. “Gwaine!” he called out.

The rogue stopped and everyone turned to where Arthur pointed. Looking back down at the monarch from his outstretched hand the rogue said, “Trust?”

Leon looked over to the light beams that his king pointed to and then over to the darkened sky the drunk was leading them toward, “Arthur, we promised.” The golden-haired man nodded and waved his hand in a gesture for them to continue.

Gwaine grumbled again and they marched on. Far in the distance the sky grumbled along with them. They were sure the clouds would open again and down pour onto them all. They shivered with the thought.

As the sky gave a large burst of light and the resounding crack, they burst through the foliage. Behind them they heard the sound of the large droplets falling, but where they stood was dry. It was like they had walked through the curtain at a waterfall. It caused a few to stumble.

There standing in front of them was a few deer, a unicorn, and a bear all drinking from a stream caused by the rain falling on one side of the clearing to the other. They all stared for a second before Guinevere giggled at the feeling of finally being dry. The men all smiled as well and congradulated Gwaine for getting them in. They all felt elation at their freedom from the storm.

Arthus broke away from the small celebration and looked farther into the clear. He noticed a large tree, or rather three trees twined together almost unnaturally, to create a structure. It looked like a house almost. The others followed as he stumbled slowly toward the abode. hearing their feet crunch against the dry green grass made him realize he had company. His body turned quickly and blue eyes gazed at the crowd. “Uh,” he started and gathered his thoughts quickly, “I don’t think you all should be with me when I confront him.”

“Why not?” Gwaine demanded to know while he folded his arms. “I got you here!”

“And I sent him here with his fear by throwing him into a crowd in the first place,” Arthur admitted. He looked at Guinevere who nodded. She turned to everyone and with her own scowl everyone else nodded too. They didn’t know the story like Elyan, Leon and she did, but they could see that Arthur really did need to go in on his own.

“We will only wait for a bit, Arthur. If you don’t return soon we will come for you. Remember, he is a sorcerer. He is dangerous,” Leon said as he clasped a comforting hand onto the monarch’s shoulder. Arthur gave a quick nod of his golden head and turned back to the tree.

He passed by the animals and watched as they closely eyed him, but they never moved to flee. They felt very safe in this haven from the storm. His body gave tingles as he approached the house of his friend. The magic was thick in the air. He reached the vines covering the entrance to the small tower. he reached forward and parted them to enter inside. “Merlin?” he called into the dim lighten main area.

A gasp was heard and he looked up the spiral wooden stairs that followed the path of the spiral walls. A landing was about ten feet above where the king stood and there stood the sorcerer. Merlin’s eyes were wide in shock and a bit of fear. “What are you doing here?” the dark haired man asked.

“Idiot. I am here to rescue a maiden it seems. Nice tower you made for yourself,” Arthur said as he crossed his arms on his chest.

Merlin scowled as he rushed down the steps to the main floor, “Really Arthur, how did you find me?”

Arthur rolled his eyes, “The bright sun. You have the only clearing in all of Albion! It doesn’t take a genius to find you.”

“Good thing you’re not one, then,” Merlin muttered. Arthur glared a bit at him as he continued, “How did you get in here? I portected this space.” Both men stood threatening to each other and Arthur realized this wasn’t how he had meant this meeting to go.

“Merin, I need you to return with me,” he told the other man without answering his question.

The warlock shook his head and pushed passed the royal toward the vine covered door. He pushed through while talking, “I’m not going to return to just be put on a pyre! I refuse to be executed. Here… here I am finally free. I don’t want to live in solitude within the confines of walls anymore. This is beautiful, free, and I don’t want to return to my imprisonment!” Arthur followed out fast behind him.

“You have to come back! The storm is killing people,” he grabbed onto the younger man’s peasant shirt and forced him to stop. He didn’t want him to leave the place until he could tell him about his companions, but he realized too late that they had left the home.

Merlin’s eyes widened as he spotted the men and woman waiting on the other side of the clearing. From the distance he couldn’t be certain, but he still rounded onto his old friend, “You brought your knights with you to kill me?!”

“No…” Arthur started, but Merlin continued.

“I can’t stop the storm! I don’t even know how I started it! I have never done magic like that before! What you see here is the only deliberate magic I have done in years! I cannot help you! Are you going to kill me now?” he screamed.

Arthur went to stop the magic user from returning to the house. “You need to stop it!” he yelled.

“I can’t! I won’t!” Merlin yelled back. Arthur didn’t know what to do, so he did the only thing he could think at that moment – he pushed Merlin to the ground, straight onto his backside. It was a childish thing, he knew, but he was angry that his friend didn’t care about the people dying across the land.

He was wrong. Merlin did care, but he really didn’t know how to stop something that he didn’t even know how he started. His rear end shot pain through up his back, but his pride hurt more. His chest ached suddenly from feeling betrayed by the only voice he had heard for years. Arthus yelled at him some more, “I don’t care if I have to kill you! Stop this storm! Stop being a sorcerer!” Both of their eyes widened as the king had said something he couldn’t take back. He didn’t mean it, but Merlin was certain he did deep inside.

Both sets of blue eyes were shocked at such harsh words. Quickly Arthur went to apologize as he heard his companions come running to them throuigh the clearing. Merlin’s eyes, though, went dark. “Get out,” he grounded out. Slowly he stood from the ground and didn’t take his eyes away from his enemy. “Get out, Arthur!” he yelled.

“Merlin…” the king started.

The warlock felt another stirring deep inside of him. Feeling trapped as he feared the knights would reach them soon and arrest him, he shouted into the bright sky above, “O drakon, e maia soi ftengometh tes’hup anankes!”


The Storm Chapter Seventeen

Chapter 17

The sound of knocking echoed in the chamber and the candles flickered suddenly on the table in front of her. She sighed and called out to enter. As the door opened the flames stilled once again and she went back to her writing. A young man of about 16 entered the room in a full chain mail and a flowing red banner cloak. He bowed his head, “My lady?”

She looked up at the black hair and smiled as she stood, “Mordred, my dear! No need to be so proper! We’re friends, right?”

He nodded and smiled. His green eyes flowed with adoration for the woman in front of him. “Morgana, what did you need me for?” his voice belied his age to maybe even that of a younger child.

Morgana pitied the boy, she really did. He had been orphaned so young, but she was lucky enough to have hid him during most of the purge and then convince Agravaine to train him into the knighthood. Without her help and the love the former king had had for his ward, she would have never been able to keep the child safe. Then again, in light of the newest developments with the boy Merlin, maybe she should have just went to Uther with the child in front of her. Shaking away her thoughts she smiled brighter and took the knights hands into her own. “I need him found, Mordred. I can trust no one else with this task. Please, tell only a handful of knights and search him out yourself,” her eyes brimmed with unshed tears. “He needs to be found alive. Bring him back here alive.”

The boy nodded his head, let go of her hands and with on last smile and short bow, he swept from the room to complete his task.

As the door shut behind with a resounding thud her smile dropped. Turning angrily toward the servant’s door she snapped, “Agravaine, I told you before that spying was a despicable act. One not becoming of a noble.”

THe man came out from the shadow of the door and bowed his head, “My lady. I did not mean to cause injustice.”

“Then what is it?” Morgana sighed as she huffed back into her chair to continue writing.

“Why send the boy to get him?” Agravaine asked as he walked over into the candle light.

“We need to stop this storm. You know the people cannot continue this way any longer. Without him we are not able to continue any longer, either…” she paused and looked up at him. “Why did you argue with me in the conference?”

“I did so to keep the council men contained… My lady, why did you burst in like that? We could have discussed this at a later date and still you could have sent Mordred without my consent. You needn’t have had to take my pride like that in front of the men,” Agravaine stopped suddenly and looked terrified. “I apologize. I didn’t…”

“You did,” she said. They stayed in silence for a minute. The candles again flickered as she looked up at the regent, “You may leave now. I’ll discuss things with you again later.”

He bowed low and quickly strode out of the room before he could feel her wrath.


The king was soaked and in a sour mood when they were walking once again over another hill. They had just crossed a newly formed stream and the rain was once again large drops. They were heavy with the water and exhausted from the quest. Gwaine’s voice rang through the sound of the downpour, “One more hill and we’ll see it!” Arthur felt his shoulders sag a bit with the good news. They were almost there and soon Merlin would just stop this horrible storm.

At the top of the crest they saw the most glorious sight ever. A large hole in the clouds shone down golden light into the tree line just beyond them. It really didn’t seem that difficult to reach, either. A few of the guys smiled at the sight and Guinevere giggled from the sadle. They were almost there.

They walked faster as they rushed to meet the new tree line. As they stopped in front of the large trunks Gwaine turned to look at everyone. “One thing before we enter,” he said. “You need to trust me to lead the way. No matter which way you think I’m taking you,” the last bit was said while staring into Arthur’s eyes. The king narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

Leon didn’t wait for the monarch to protest, “Remember everyone that Gwaine is the only person we know who has been able to enter the clearing where the sorcerer lives.” Arthur still didn’t break eye contact with the rogue drunk as he nodded his consent.

Guinevere dismounted from the sadle and tied the horse to a limb. As one they followed into the thick brush.


The Storm Chapter Sixteen

Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin BBC. I don’t own Frozen, either.

Chapter Sixteen

To diffuse the situation quickly Percival took action, “Where are you headed?”

Leon looked at the Arthur, who gave a slight nod, and answered, “We are searching for the sorcerer who caused the storm.”

Gwaine dropped his smile, “In the clearing that is dry?” Arthur nodded. “I know where it is…”

“Tell us, please?” Guinevere interrupted. Her brown eyes pleaded with the gambler.

Gwaine became guarded, “I can show you, but I don’t like the thought of someone being executed. If he can stop this without his death…”

“I never said the sorcerer was a man,” Leon said as he crossed his arms.

“You didn’t have to. I saw him. I wanted to be dry for a bit and sat in some bushes near the house he is in. Didn’t seem that he wanted company, though, so I left him be.”

“You have been in the clearing? I heard no one can get into it. They try as hard as they might, but become lost and tangled in the over growth.” Lancelot also looked suspiciously at the rogue.

Gwaine shrugged but didn’t give an answer. The steady beat of the rain began to increase as the drops became larger. They stood soaked looking at one another before the new comers to the group started to pull out rations and cloaks.

Lancelot and Elyan worked together with little voice as they tied the cloaks over branches. Percival saw they were creating a tent and went to grab two large logs for them to sit on underneath. Gwaine took the reins of the horse to tie her to a branch on a tree close by as Guinevere was shuffled into the more comfortable new tent by Arthur. Leon collected money from everyone and set back to the village to buy more rations for their group.

Once everyone was settled away from the loud patter of the falling water, Arthur spoke, “We won’t hurt Merlin.” Gwaine looked up from where he had been dumping water from his boots. “He was my friend before, and I don’t think I could ever see him executed.” Gwaine nodded and they all decided to get comfortable. Leon returned shortly with a pack full of more food rations and a thicker cloak for Guinevere.

“The clearing is a full day’s walk from here toward the east. I hope he is a good friend because this storm had to have been created by some powerful magic,” Gwaine said as he leaned against a tree trunk and slid to the soggy mud to shut his eyes.

“How powerful does a sorcerer need to be to do this?” Elyan asked.

Lancelot answered him, “Before the purge, according to stories I had heard growing up, the high priestesses could conjure weather for an hour or so. A group of them could bring a significant storm. For one man to do this would mean he is more powerful than they were in the height of their day.”

The silence pushed against them as they mulled over this. Arthur remembered the journals and the struggle he had read in them. He didn’t realize, though, that Merlin could ever be that strong. The skinny and pale physicians helper was more powerful than the king of Camelot. It sent chills down Arthur’s spine, and he fought the urge to panic. He chanted in his head over and over, ‘Merlin is my friend.’

~*~ Ma ~*~

The courtyard was amass with people of all ages. The screams of children and weeping mothers assaulted her ears as she rushed from them all toward the main doors. She heard people say, “My lady,” as they bowed but she hadn’t the time to greet them. She needed to find out what was happening quickly.

Her pace was determined as she strode into the council room where Lord Aggrevaine was bellowing, “I know what his Majesty’s request was, but we are running out of supplies!” A few of the lords were still nodding as Morgana made her way to the man’s side. The lords all looked at her and bowed their heads as she turned onto the leader.

“Why are there children dying outside on the streets of Camelot?” She waved towards the towering windows that chimed with each drop of rain.

“My lady, you needn’t concern…”

“I obviously do!” she pointed to the men with her finger in a sweeping motion as she continued, “When Arthur returns he will not be pleased to find we have forced a mutiny of the masses by starvation of their youth!” She tossed her long dark hair aside as she came to stand next to the Lord, “Fix it Aggravaine!” Her glare sent fear into the pit of all of the men. With her piece said she once again stormed through the castle.

Outside the weather fumed with her. As she flowed down the stairs to the court yard, a clatter of shouts and hooves parted the sea of peasants. Two horses without riders came barreling toward the royal stables. Morgana brought her hands to her chest and her eyes widened in shock as a guard yelled out, “It’s the kings mount!”

~*~ Tsuzuku~*~

The Storm Chapter Fifteen

Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin BBC. I don’t own Frozen, either.

Chapter Fifteen

Arthur Pendragon felt the chill of the night as he tried to shiver off the cold wet rain coming down hard onto his chain mail. It seeped through to the tunic below and he was sure now that they would never be dry again. He felt despair running through him suddenly. The wishing for a fire wasn’t working and sleep was eluding the king of Camelot. His companions still were all awake as well drowning in their own soggy clothing and thoughts.

The sky started to creep into a light pattern that suggested a day breaking beyond the clouds above them all. It had been a long night without any comfort or rest for the weary travelers. Standing up onto sore feet they all moved at once and started on their way in silence through the dense woods. They had no food left, no supplies but what they had had on their bodies, and they could feel that their spirit for their mission had also fallen into the ravine. Guinevere climbed onto the mare’s back and Elyan took what was left of the bridle to guide the horse. Leon sighed against his own depression and they all started off toward the rumored place that Merlin was.

They had been walking for most of the day when they came to the top of a large hill and looked down into a valley. The sight did nothing to help their melancholy. The woman on the horse gasped as she brought her hands to her lips to stop from bursting into tears. Down below the houses were submerged to their roofs in rushing water as the rain had created a small lake where people had once lived.

“We’ll get no help here,” Arthur said sadly as he turned and they walked further into the trees. The rest of them took one last look with little hope that the people had escaped before the flood happened, and they followed the monarch onto the next village.

~*~ Ma ~*~

The next village was faring better than the sunken one they had seen the day before. Leon led them onto the muddy street and onward to the first building with signs of life. The sky above them crashed with bright white light and a large rumble shook the wood planks of the walls around them. Elyan helped his sister down from the horse and she nodded to them as the men went into the tavern where noise was gathered.

As soon as they opened the door silence greeted them with stares of men all around. A tavern woman nodded to them kindly as they found a small table in the corner beside a game of dice. Noise started up again as mugs drained down throats and men yelled with slurred tongues. A maiden took their orders for mead and left to gather them all their own pints.

“How do we do this, Arthur?” Leon asked. “We can’t just out right ask these people if they’ve seen him.” He smiled brightly to the serving woman as she gave them their drink and left quickly with her pay the blond knight had put onto the wood before her.

“It’s probably guaranteed that they’ve heard of the clearing, though,” Elyan supplied before taking a small sip of his alcohol. They didn’t want to get drunk, but it would have been suspicious if they hadn’t ordered.

A man with long brown and wavy hair suddenly leaned back in his chair from the table next to them. The back hit their table hard shaking their pints to spill in front of them. Arthur went to yell at him before he saw that the man hadn’t even realized he had done anything to their area.

“I do not cheat! You are just not as good as I!” he yelled at his companions as he gathered coins into his purse hanging around his belt. The other men all stood from the table and the travelers realized this rude rogue was certainly smaller than his gambling companions. He was picking a fight with men he couldn’t possibly win against.

Arthur couldn’t really allow someone else to be harmed so he stood as well and tried to defuse the situation, “Men, I’m sure you will get your chance to win against him later this evening.” They only glanced at the blond before a large meaty fist came against the wavy haired man.

The brawl was messy. That was the only way to describe what happened in the five minute span it took for the three gamblers to be out done and the rest of the tavern to be demolished by almost thirty drunks. The three travelers had fought hard against the gamblers with the rogue smashing just as many chairs and tankards alongside them. A man who hadn’t even been part of the gambling fiasco went to smash a piece of wood into Arthur’s back when a large table was tossed onto the poor man by a guy who was three times larger than any knight Arthur had fought with in his ranks. Brought out of his shock as another man joined the giant in helping their fight was when the entire tavern had got into the mass quarrel.

By the end of it the tavern keep was in tears as he saw the damage and the women were in shock. The travelers and the three who had fought alongside them, including the one who had started the fight, all ran out into the storm to escape from the anger of the owner. Leon gave a shrill whistle as they ran quickly from the town and the sound of the hooves from their horse came behind them as Guinevere rode out to meet them. “We need to leave quickly,” Arthur said as they rushed to the cover of the forests under brush.

Panting as night started to encroach on them all they stopped in a small clearing. The man with the long wavy hair laughed suddenly into the sound of the pouring rain. “That was the best fight I have ever been in,” he announced jovially.

“This happens often?” the man with like hair, but shorter cut, asked incredulously to the rogue. The giant started to laugh as he collapsed to the ground. Soon everyone was laughing except for a very confused Guinevere.

The trouble maker nodded his head after finally being able to catch his breath as he introduced himself to everyone, “The name is Gwaine. Thank you for helping me back there.”

The man who had saved Arthur spoke, “I am Percival. This is Lancelot.”

Lancelot nodded his head and finally caught the gaze of the woman in their group before turning suddenly to the gambler, “You are very welcome.”

Arthur took lead of the travelers as he introduced everyone. After the lady’s introduction Lancelot took her hand and gave it a light kiss, “Pleasure is mine, my lady.”

Gwaine laughed and nudged the noble man, “Ah, she seems the type to want men who have style.” He took her hand from Lancelot and kissed the back the same, “and I am one who has style.”

Guinevere blushed as she saw her brother, and surprisingly Arthur, both bristle to how the men were unashamedly flirting with her. She took her hand back as Gwaine smirked and Lancelot frowned at the man who had moved him.


The Storm Chapter Fourteen

Disclaimer: I don’t own BBC Merlin or Disney’s Frozen

Chapter Fourteen

They decided to take turns in the wagon’s chair during their adventure. Leon was walking in front of the chestnut mare trying to keep her walking and pulling through the treacherous mud. Elyan was behind the wagon to push her a bit at points to keep her going over rocks and deep holes. Arthur had the reigns as Guinevere relaxed next to him.

“Do you know the sorcerer who started this?” Guinevere asked the man beside her. Leon and Arthur had kept with them just being knights and didn’t think it would be wise to let them know Arthur was royalty.

“Yes, I did know him,” the blond said over the patter of rain drops.

The woman shifted a bit so that her hood wouldn’t hide the profile of the monarch. “Do you know why he did this curse?” she asked slowly. She really didn’t know whether she should be prying or not, but her curiosity was peaked. “I mean, not that I think you had anything to do with it…” she said hurryingly to reassure the man that she didn’t mean to place blame.

“I am to blame,” he muttered just loud enough for her to hear. The wagon jerked a bit over a rock that hadn’t been sunk into the soil yet. “I… I didn’t know he was a sorcerer,” he continued, “We used to be very close as friends, but I didn’t know he could do magic. He was locked away when King Uther started his purge against magic, so I probably should have guessed something at the time. I was just a kid, though.”

He was rambling a bit, she knew, but she let him continue. She could tell these thoughts had probably been beating into his head for the past week or longer. He cleared his throat, “I dragged him out for… for the king’s coronation. I thought maybe he needed to not be locked away anymore.”

“How long was he locked away for?” Guinevere asked as she tried to do the math into her own head. “Oh God… that is a long time! Did he not have any company during his imprisonment?”

He couldn’t look at her as he studied his boots against the board. She gasped and he elaborated whatever she had been thinking, “I visited him, but I never saw him out of his bed chambers. His uncle was part of the court, but he wouldn’t let me in farther than the main room. That was if he even let me in at all, really. Merlin, that is the sorcerer’s name, only saw his uncle during all of those years.”

Silence fell on them all as the panting of Leon, Elyan and the horse rang through the chilled air. The hoofs beat down in a steady pattern against the chiming of the drops of rain into puddles. There hadn’t been any lightning or thunder for almost the whole day now, but that wasn’t very promising for what kind of night lay ahead.

The woman brought a hand to stroke back a stray black ringlette of hair, “You brought a hermit into a party full of people who would kill him for him being a sorcerer?” She was astounded and shocked.

“I didn’t know he was a sorcerer. I thought he was sick while growing up and then maybe just shy now,” Arthur defended himself. Guinevere looked over at him with incredulous eyes. He sighed, “I know it sounds stupid now, but it’s the truth. I didn’t know.”

“I agree you didn’t know about him being a sorcerer, but why would you drag a hermit into a party filled with knights, nobles, and royalty?” With her saying it that way he held his breath as he thought back to the incident. She was right, really; just as Morgana had been right at the party to tell him to leave the younger boy alone. “What set him off?” she asked.

He breathed in deeply and shook his head. He knew what had done it, of course, “I did. I tried to get him to participate in the fun. I didn’t know he would…” he gestured to the area around them with one large sweep of his arm.

They sat in uncomfortable silence as they both digested their conversation. He really felt stupid and guilty as she tried to figure out the story. Both of their minds swirled in the information.

In front of them the horse gave a soft neigh and her ears started to swivel around frantically. Her flank twitched. Her rear end seemed to want to go faster than her front legs. Arthur gripped the reigns tighter through his soaked gloves as Leon looked up into the whites of the eyes of the beast. Something was wrong and the horse was giving her warning.

Elyan jumped onto the back of the wagon flap and locked his legs around the hinges. Leon grabbed onto the front of the horse’s bit as their eyes all scanned the forest around them to find the sudden danger. The horse bucked a bit, but Leon slowed her to a pace that allowed them to hear better through the dripping.

They soon wished they hadn’t even slowed down. Coming fast behind them was a swarm of creatures larger than the horse in front of their carriage. They ran on six spindly legs and had large crab like claws as their eighth appendage. They seemed to scurry with their body close to the ground, but their tail came up curled behind them. On the end of the tail was a large bulb and a sharp point.

The four travelers didn’t need to see more to know these were dangerous creatures. Quickly Arthur slapped the reigns as Leon jumped onto the back of the horse. They took off in a flash down the decrepit road. Elyan yelled something as he grabbed a sword from his stash and the metal clang against a stinger from one of the creatures.

“Arthur!” Leon yelled out as he pointed the best he could to in front of them. A drop was seen and Arthur knew that their wagon wouldn’t be able to turn fast enough at their break neck speed. There was another side to the sudden gully and there was only one thing left to do.

“Leon, come here!” Arthur commanded. Leon scrambled to the wagon as Arthur picked up Guinevere who had been struggling to fight against her own monster with a sword from the black smith wagon. With all of his strength, the king tossed the woman onto the back of the horse. With a large swoop of his right arm her unsheathed his own sword and through the ropes that bound the horse to the transport. The men felt the wagon lurch without its guide and Guinevere called out to her brother as the horse jumped into the air. The men rushed to the front of the wagon and all leapt as it fell from beneath their feet into a rushing river below. Grabbing onto vines and roots they held fast against the side of the muddy ravine. Using every bit of muscle they had in their arms they shimmied up to the lip and heaved themselves to safety.

Panting with the rain starting to rush down they watched as the eight legged creatures fell to their own doom below. Arthur was glad that the beasts couldn’t jump. He really didn’t know what they would have done if they had been able to make the leap like the horse had.

He fell his head back against the soggy soil and shut his eyes. He would have nightmares for weeks after this, he was sure.

“All of my hard work,” Elyan moaned as he peered down over the side to look at the pieces of wood rushing down the swollen river. His sister jumped down from the back of their horse to lay a comforting hand against his shoulder. “Now how am I to make a living?”

“I’ll replace it,” Arthur said with his eyes still closed. The siblings looked over at the knight and then each other in despair. Even a knight wouldn’t be able to afford a wagon filled with all of the merchandise they had just lost. The weeks of work the two had put into each weapon, cook ware, and metal trinket was now making its way into free hands.

Leon nodded to them that the other knight would be good on his promise. They decided without speaking that they would rest for a while right where they all were.