TITLE: The Amulet of Ailill
CATEGORY: (Canon) Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Adventure CHARACTERS: Merlin, Arthur, Gaius, OC
RATING: T
SEASON: Right after episode 3.3, Goblin's Gold
CONTENT WARNINGS: Angst, violence, WIP
SYNOPSIS: There is something wrong with Arthur, Merlin can feel it. Can the young Warlock stop a dark sorceress from taking over Arthur's mind, before she uses the Prince for her own personal quest to find a dangerous amulet?

AUTHOR'S NOTES: My second longer Merlin fanfic. A huge thank you to Jo for her Beta, and to Beth for encouragements. Also a thank you for the feedback I received while this was still a work in progress fic. It really encouraged me to finish it, so thanks Merlin fans from the forum; The Heart of Camelot. More stories of mine can be found there as well. On: /


Chapter 1

It was a bright, sunny day, the first day of summer; not too hot, not too wet, no it was just right. The citadel lay glistening in the afternoon sunshine and all was peaceful and serene in Camelot. The lower town market was packed with people selling their goods, or buying provisions. Children were running and playing and there were busy discussions all around. The smell of herbs and spices filled the air as well as the sweet smoke from incense burning. And there was music and laughter and people telling each other stories over a good cup of mead.

Prince Arthur felt full of energy today. He had not felt this good in weeks. Morgana was home safe and sound, they had won the battle against Cenred and that pesky Goblin was under lock and key in the vaults where it could do no more harm. Arthur wanted to forget about it as soon as possible. No one was ever going to mention donkey ears again, or he would have them hanged.

Walking around the lower town and the market always made the Prince feel humble and full of gratitude and even love for his people. His Camelot. It grounded him in a way that made him happy. He loved strolling around after the afternoon training sessions, just for the fun of it. He knew his father would probably disapprove, but that didn't mean he would stop doing it.

Merlin was walking beside him, the young man's deep blue eyes shining in mirth and a wide smile on his face while he chattered along about Gaius, music and herbs and God knows what else because Arthur wasn't really paying very close attention to his servant. The chattering would sometimes get on his nerves, but not today. Today it felt just right, like Merlin was an extension of this busy market, making Arthur feel even more at home there.

The younger man suddenly stopped and pulled Arthur's sleeve. "Arthur, wait. I need to get some henbane, hemlock and coriander for Gaius from this stand. I'll catch up with you."

"Aren't you working for me this afternoon instead of doing chores for Gaius, Merlin?" Arthur asked, his voice probably betraying his good humour, but he didn't care. Not today.

"Yes, of course, Sire," Merlin mockingly said and all but bounced up and down like the bumbling idiot he was at times, his eyes shining in subtle amusement. "This will only take a second, though."

"Just one second?"

"You know what I mean."

"Do I?" Arthur tried not to smile but couldn't help doing so anyway. It was too good of a day for serious banter with Merlin. He pushed the other man's shoulder as a friendly gesture. "You better hurry up then."

He watched Merlin leave to buy those precious herbs before he walked on. The blacksmith's house was just around the corner. Arthur used to go there as a young boy, to see the craft of sword making. The smell always dragged him back to his childhood, to the place his father had forbidden him to go to, so he would sneak out of the castle to go see Tom, the blacksmith.

This also brought home some painful memories on this sunny day, and he stopped before he turned the corner. This was not a good day to dwell on these memories, so it was time to turn around and return to the castle. Arthur was intent on not letting anything ruin his mood, or anyone, for that matter. Was Merlin still at the herb stand? He better go see so they could return home together.

Arthur turned and bumped into an old woman, wearing a dark grey cloak. Dark blond hair mixed with large streaks of grey fell loosely from under her hood onto her forehead while she looked up at him, a half smile hovering on her thin lips. Before he could apologize to her, she suddenly grabbed his hand and held it firmly in hers while gazing into his eyes.

At first he was amazed by the strength of her hand holding his and then even more amazed and surprised to see her pale grey eyes shine with gold. Before he could actually register deep inside of him why this was of some major significance, he all but forgot and smiled at her.

Shaking himself mentally, he sluggishly remembered that this was somehow important, these golden eyes that had turned a pale grey once more. It should alert him to something that for the life of him he couldn't remember. He just stood there gaping at her.

The annoying feeling that he was overlooking something important disappeared when she mumbled a 'thank you' and turned around, disappearing into the crowd while Arthur's hand fell to his side, a slight burning sensation going through his palm and up into his arm, neck and head.

All he could do was stand there, not able to follow her, not even able to move. Where was he again and where was he heading? He tried to remember, but his head felt so heavy that all he could do was wonder what was going on and what he needed to do next.


Finally finished buying the herbs Gaius needed, Merlin made his way to join Arthur once more. It had been very busy at the herbs stand, and as he had waited impatiently in line, bouncing up and down on one foot, a slight vibration had moved down through his arms, leaving a tingling feeling in his fingertips.

It was really of no great concern, as magic was deeply imbedded in Merlin's very soul and sometimes if he was too impatient, excited, angry, it would show itself through these vibrations. He had learned to ignore them most of the time, and sometimes to use them if Arthur or he himself were in any danger.

But this one had surprised him, and while he walked back to Arthur through the crowded market, he could still feel it in his hands, like they were heavy and non-cooperative all of a sudden. And even on a sunny day like this, Merlin was very much aware of something dark, something not right. He broadened his vision and pushed out all of his senses on instinct. If something was not right he would be ready for it, whatever it was.

With a faint feeling of dread in his heart he intensified his pace to reach the Prince of Camelot, meanwhile shaking his arms a couple of times, wondering what had set this off. Not really watching where he was going because he was so intent on looking out for any threats, Merlin slipped on some horse dung, stumbled and to his relief, bumped straight into Arthur.

The Prince stood there in the middle of the dirt street, frozen like a statue, not even telling him off from bumping into him. Merlin quickly detected a dopey grin on the other man's face, but that look was so unnatural that his feeling of dread returned and he scanned the area to see if something was out of the ordinary.

"Sire?" Merlin grabbed Arthur's arm in a not so gentle manner to get his attention.

"Yes?" Arthur frowned at him and with a scowl he pulled his arm out of Merlin's grip. "What are you doing grabbing me like that? I was just, uh..."

"Admiring the view?"

"Don't be ridiculous."

"Are you all right?"

"Why shouldn't I be?"

"You were grinning."

"I was not."

"Widely."

"Saw yourself in a mirror, did you?" Arthur turned away from him and stamped off towards the East Gate, and Merlin had to hurry to keep up. When they reached the courtyard, Merlin being slightly out of breath, Arthur stopped and looked at him.

"Why are you following me?"

Now it was Merlin's turn to frown in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"You are following me."

"Yes, I am your servant, and that's what servants do, remember?"

"My servant?" It seemed like Arthur was genuinely taken aback by that comment, and Merlin wondered if he was joking around. Arthur did that a lot, and usually there was a subtle difference between him actually being serious or not. Merlin had known the Prince long enough to recognize it, and the look on Arthur's face was serious. How very strange.

"You don't want me to bring you your evening meal, then?" Merlin asked, lifting a brow.

"I don't need your assistance. Go home."

"But—" It wasn't that Merlin didn't want the night off, but these nights off were a very rare occasion and Arthur hadn't said anything about it before now. Yes, definitely very strange.

"Go."

"Are you sure?"

"Just go and do whatever you do when you are not being my servant."

Now that almost made Merlin snort. As if he had enough time to himself, as if Arthur didn't know he was always working for him, for Gaius, for everyone except himself. The Prince had to be joking, waiting for his reaction, no doubt.

"I can always visit the tavern."

"Yes," Arthur said in a dreamy voice while he started to walk away from him. "You do that. I'm busy."

"Busy?"

"Leave me alone, servant."

"Servant?"

Arthur didn't answer, but instead he ran off towards the castle entrance, leaving Merlin standing there in the courtyard, his hands raised in confusion and a stunned look on his face.


Merlin slammed the door of Gaius' chambers behind him, feeling annoyed. "You know what, Gaius? Arthur is so thick at times, I wonder how he's able to defend Camelot in times of danger."

"What happened?" Gaius looked up from mixing some kind of potion, his voice one of subtle interest.

Merlin threw off his jacket, washed his hands in a bucket of water and was ready to set the table for their evening meal while he smirked."We were in the market this afternoon and suddenly he freezes then rushes towards the citadel, and starts talking all kinds of gibberish to me, like he's lost what's left of those two brain cells and then he tells me to go home because he's busy. Busy with what, exactly?"

"Maybe he wants to prepare a speech?"

"What speech, Gaius? He always lets me write them, so why would he want to do that on his own all of a sudden? And why does he want me to take the evening off? I even told him I was going to the tavern, and guess what? No reaction at all. No, this is something else and I can't put my finger on it."

"I am sure you will find out soon enough."

"Yes, maybe." Merlin sat down at the table, breaking a round bread into smaller pieces while Gaius came his way and put a small cooking pot full of turnip stew on the table. "But there was something not right when we were walking around the market place. I felt it, something was off but I didn't see anything odd or dangerous, it was just a feeling."

"Arthur giving you the evening off is certainly very odd."

"He never does that," Merlin mused. "Ever."

"Maybe he has a good reason, maybe he just needs some time alone?"

"Arthur never needs time alone."

Gaius let out a sigh and pointed at the stew on Merlin's plate. "Enjoy your time off while it lasts, I'd say, and eat your turnip stew before it gets cold. Oh, and did you buy those herbs I asked for?"

"Yes, of course." Merlin suddenly remembered the herbs, and stood up to get his leather herb collection bag, forgetting all about the incident on the market place. He handed the bag over to Gaius while he sat back down and started eating.

"Thank you, Merlin."

"Yowelcome," he replied around a mouth full of stew.


Chapter 2

Arthur somehow felt disconnected from his own body. It was like he was going through motions he should not be going through, having thoughts he should not be having at this time of night.

Was he dreaming? It certainly felt like he was floating on a gentle breeze that infiltrated his mind and left him without any specific thought. He couldn't really remember going to his chamber or to bed, although it was clear he was lying in bed. Last thing he remembered was walking around in the lower town and there had been a market, the smells still clear to his senses.

The dream suddenly found him walking into fog that was so dark and thick that Arthur felt like he was going to suffocate. Waving the fog away with both hands appeared to be of no use, on the contrary, it only got thicker and now seemed to cling to him like it was alive.

Arthur was proud of the fact that he never panicked. Whatever the situation, he was always ready to fight. It was his second nature. But this was a dream, and even though he consciously told himself to wake up, nothing happened.

Images came out of the dark fog, his mother crying, his father being torn apart by guilt and Camelot in flames. Fear gripped at Arthur's heart and a deep sadness accompanied this fear, leaving him gasping. Frantically trying to shake it off he stepped backwards, only to feel the dark fog getting thicker, draping over him like a cold clammy blanket. He couldn't push it away, he couldn't escape while voices out of the darkness screamed at him. Piercing screams of madness.

Arthur could feel himself drowning and no one could save him, as he would be lost forever. Desperately trying to pull away, the emotions and thoughts about his mother were too intense to bear. All Arthur wanted was to bolt from them, to run like crazy and hide.

No, he berated himself sternly. He was a Prince, he would never run and hide. He would face his deepest fears, and face whatever this was. Whatever was happening to him.

The thought had not even fully escaped his mind yet, but suddenly there came a soft voice from out of nowhere, a voice that was sweet and warm. A woman's voice. He didn't recognise her voice, but it penetrated his very soul. This woman was his saviour, a beacon in the darkness and he would listen to her gladly. He would not deny her.

"Arthur," the voice whispered. "My brave Prince, warrior and knight. I can help you."

It felt like she was actually standing next to him, but when Arthur turned around he couldn't see her. She was just out of reach, somewhere in the dark fog. What was she doing there all on her own?

"But you have to help me, also, Arthur Pendragon." The voice was further away now, which felt like a loss. "You must go retrieve what once was mine. You must not speak of this quest to any living soul. Leave Camelot tomorrow at first light, and I will guide you."

Arthur reached out but there was nothing to touch. The dark fog was slowly turning grey now, like a smoke screen. The screams he'd heard were slowly fading away with the intense darkness. But the suffocating feeling remained. Like he was walking inside a nightmare, and he couldn't escape. The only escape would be to follow the woman's orders.

Breathing in and out a couple of times, he wondered when he would wake up and come to the conclusion this was just a nightmare after all. Because no way would he go on some odd quest for a woman he didn't even know. She could be a witch, for all he knew. He wasn't going to fall for this, he would be strong enough to resist her. He was the Prince of Camelot.

Then why did he feel like he had no choice but to obey?


Merlin startled awake by a powerful surge inside but the moment he sat up, it passed through him like a shock wave of emotions. Mostly sadness, hate and darkness which had him gasping for air, feeling slightly disoriented. Raising his hands to cup his head, he choked. Somehow he knew someone else was going through these emotions while he was feeling them as clearly as if they belonged to him.

Feeling nauseated, he tried to get a grip on what he was feeling, to disconnect himself from the pain and sadness. He'd gotten better at doing so in a couple of years time but it definitely wasn't good enough tonight, and Merlin lost control for a moment. He was totally and utterly lost.

Scrambling out of bed, his bare feet made contact with the cold floor, and the shock helped him regain some control over whatever this was. The intense sadness lingered inside him while he desperately tried to shake it off as he headed for the door to reach Gaius.

"Gaius?" He could hear his voice croak, barely a whisper, his hand outstretched to push the door open, desperate for human contact. But before he could reach the door, his legs gave way and he fell to his knees. "Gaius..." Gaius could sleep through a thunderstorm, so there was no way would he hear him, unless...

While a terrible screaming voice pierced Merlin's mind, he concentrated with all his might and magic on his guardian on the other side of the door. It took so much energy and effort that he wasn't sure it was going to work. Gaius' name magically wavered on air, slowly pushed away from him and slipped through the door in the right direction.

Letting out a gasp, he could still hear screams and feel dread and darkness all around him. He vaguely noticed the door in front of him opening and Gaius rushing in.

"Merlin?" Gaius' worried voice reached him from far away. "What's wrong? Talk to me." The voice got clearer, warming him with the intensity of a roaring fire, and he held on to it, slowly crawling out of the intense sad thoughts that had somehow paralysed him. He felt cold, so cold.

Arms were embracing him, hands rubbing his back slowly. Gaius' voice was very clear now, guiding him. He lifted his arms, hugging the old man tightly while tears of relief welled up in his eyes and he found his voice, which sounded hoarse.

"Gaius."

"Merlin, please say something."

"I'm…" He swallowed hard, shivering, but feeling much better already. "I'm fine."

"You're shivering, come sit by the fire and tell me what happened." Warm hands were lifting him up, guiding him down the steps into the other room where Gaius always kept a low fire burning, even during summer nights. With the comfort of the room's light and warmth, the last remnants of the cold, the sadness and the dark disappeared at once.

They both sat down on a low bench, and Merlin felt Gaius' intent gaze fall on him as he swallowed hard, trying to push away the fear that threatened to bubble up inside of him. He gazed at the floor, his eyes fixed on a dark stain. "I'm sorry, Gaius, I..."

"What happened?"

"I'm not sure," he started, still staring at the dark stain. "Someone was using dark powerful magic, right here in Camelot. I couldn't stop it from reaching into every part of my body, almost like I was experiencing someone else's grief and despair, and it paralyzed me completely."

"Are you certain it wasn't directed at you?"

"No, this darkness seemed to be overpowering someone else. It shouldn't have been able to feel it."

"Morgana?" Gaius asked softly, placing a warm hand on his back that comforted him some more.

"I don't think so, Gaius. This was darker, intense, much more power than she possesses." Merlin finally felt he should look Gaius in the eye, and as he did, a thought occurred that made him gasp. "Arthur!"

"What about him?"

"We have to see if he's all right." He was about to jump off the bench, his stomach in a knot, but a hand pushed him back down and a stern look from his guardian told him he wasn't going anywhere at the moment. But what if this had something to do with Arthur? He had to...

"I will go check up on Arthur," Gaius said, standing up. "You stay here, physicians orders."

"But—"

"Stay."

As soon as Gaius left the room, Merlin jumped up and started pacing. Now that the shock of what had happened was wearing off, his body couldn't keep still. His fingers were twitching and he was nervously glancing at the door every minute or so. What if something was really wrong with Arthur? He should have gone with Gaius. What if they were too late already? Frantic thoughts raced through Merlin's mind.

He was about to go after the old man when the physician walked in, a calm expression on his face which made Merlin release a large gulp of air as he'd been holding his breath. The unanswered question was clearly visible on Gaius' face. Arthur was all right.

"All is well, Merlin. Arthur is fast asleep and nothing seems out of the ordinary."

"Ah, thank you, Gaius." Merlin sank back down on the bench, thinking it over. Maybe this had been something else, a warning of some kind? Morgana was not the only danger to Camelot, of course, and who knew what Morgause was up to these days.

"There's nothing more we can do right now, Merlin," Gaius said. "I suggest we both get some sleep."

Making his way back to bed all Merlin knew was that he'd better be on guard for whatever was going to happen. Of course he always was, but this time a little warning bell was ringing in his head, and he knew he'd better take it seriously.


"Good morning, Sire." Merlin faked a bit of cheerfulness while he opened the door to Arthur's chamber. Work almost always made him forget the more pressing issues of his life for just a little while. He would do his chores without thinking too much, the motions of it being soothing after the emotional sleepless night.

The nagging feeling of danger and dread of last night was stowed away in his subconscious, ready to wake up if the need arose. But right now he wanted to concentrate on the moment, not worrying about what might be.

He stomped into the room with a platter of food balanced in one hand, intent on serving the sleepy Prince the breakfast of a King. And also determined to wake him up with a loud rustling of curtains and rattling cups and plates.

It startled him more then he wanted to admit that Arthur was already up and even more surprising, fully dressed and ransacking through his cabinet, throwing things on the floor behind him swearing under his breath while doing so.

"Arthur?"

There was no answer and Merlin wasn't sure the Prince had even heard him. He kept on throwing clothes on the floor and finally turned around, a long thin brown coat in his hands and a satisfied smirk on his face. Fully awake and ready to go.

Merlin decided to cough aloud to get the other man's attention, while he placed his plate of food on the nearby table. He wondered if he had missed something the other evening. Maybe a meeting or some other appointment that Arthur needed to go to? Normally Merlin didn't miss these things. He was proud to think that if he wouldn't be around, Arthur would forget half the time. "Your breakfast, Sire."

Arthur blinked as he stared at him, his furrowed brows questioning and his blue eyes suddenly hard as stone while he observed Merlin while he stood near the cabinet only a couple of steps away.

An involuntary shiver went through Merlin straight away. He could always read Arthur's mood in his eyes pretty well, and this was eerie. The way the Prince stared at him not saying a word, not making jokes as he always did early in the morning.

"You dressed yourself, that's amazing." Merlin struggled to pull his gaze away from Arthur, who still hadn't moved or spoken. "You're in a hurry today, what's going on?"

"That." Arthur took two large steps, raised his hands and pushed him back from the table, harder than he would be doing if he was just teasing. Hard enough to make Merlin lose his balance and stumble. Shock and surprise started to register in his mind while he stepped back to get out of Arthur's personal space as he gazed into the man's eyes once more.

What he saw there made him swallow, hard. He could see more than anger in those normally good humoured blue eyes. Anger and something else he couldn't put his finger on. This was something serious, something dreadfully wrong, and fear leaped into Merlin's stomach as the Prince advanced on him again while he backed away as quickly as he could, thinking about options to find out what the hell was going on and how to stop Arthur.

But was this Arthur in the first place? Merlin had dealt with many strange occurrences over the years and this felt like magic. His mind could almost sense it when Arthur forcefully pushed him against a wall, rendering him breathless and in a slight panic. Magic would effectively stop Arthur, no doubt about that. But he couldn't use it in front of the Prince. Not now.

Arthur was in his face, eyes ablaze and lifting a finger in warning. "... Is none of your business, Merlin." He finished his sentence.

Merlin struggled to remain calm, to handle this effectively before it got out of hand. He had seen his share of enchantments and this was definitely it. But how on Earth had Arthur gotten enchanted and by whom? They had gone to the market, he'd already had a strange sense of dread there. Arthur had behaved strangely and sent him home. Had sent him home. That was it!

Merlin berated himself for not digging deeper last night. The magical darkness he'd felt then couldn't have been a coincidence. Even though Gaius had checked on Arthur and all had seemed fine, he should have checked it out himself. He should have.

This must have happened while they were visiting the market, while he'd been buying herbs for Gaius. This definitely explained what he'd felt last night, the dreadful cold darkness, confusion and sadness. Had he been connected to Arthur's thoughts and feelings?

"I was just—"

"Shut up, Merlin."

"I think you are—" Merlin started but never had the chance to finish when he saw Arthur's fist coming his way and before he could duck out of the way, said fist connected with the side of his head, vibrating with a dull sort of sound mixed with extreme dizziness and then nothing.


Chapter 3

Arthur felt really annoyed looking down at the unconscious body of his servant sprawled against the wall in front of him. Why was that idiot always getting in the way of important quests? Why was he always getting in his way, period?

That he had to go on this important quest immediately was very clear in his mind. In fact it was all he thought about, and when Merlin had walked in and disturbed him, he had become furious. Still was.

His quest would be a no go if Merlin woke up and alerted his father. And his father would no doubt send a group of knights after him to bring him back. It had not been Arthur's intention to bring someone along with him but it seemed there was no other choice. Merlin would have to come, even if both of them didn't like it. This quest was too important to abandon now.

Looking around, he wondered how to get both of them out of Camelot without someone asking questions, but hey, he was the Prince. If someone asked questions he would be able to ignore them or tell them to mind their own business.

A sudden thought made him stop. More a feeling actually. This wasn't right. He froze for a second. It sort of felt like he wasn't himself, like he was two people. One was bending over Merlin with this quest in mind, the other stood watching, mouth open in an unheard scream, stuck in a blanket of fog and not being able to escape from it.

A little voice inside his head said that he shouldn't give in to orders from an unknown female about a quest he knew nothing about. But that voice also knew if he didn't, she would keep him prisoner in her eternal fog forever. This quest was his escape.

Shaking off the feeling, he grabbed his favourite sword, stuck it in his belt and grabbed Merlin's arm. With one swift movement he pulled the younger man's body over his shoulder. Merlin wasn't that heavy, thank goodness.

Arthur had made up his mind. This quest was a go, no matter what it was and for whom. All he had to do right now was get out of the castle, get himself a horse, some supplies and make his way through the Darkling woods. The young man hanging loosely over his shoulder was just a minor nuisance, he decided while he made his way to the door and into the corridor.

Lucky for him they encountered no one on their way to the stables. That wasn't surprising as Arthur had taken an alternate route that wasn't well known. He'd grown up in this castle so he knew every inch of it, which had come in handy multiple times. He even took care of supplies making a short stop in the storage room under the kitchens. He wouldn't last long without food and water. Carrying the pack and Merlin had proven to be a challenge, but he'd managed. All he needed still was a cooking pot and some utensils.

There was a stable hand present when he reached his horse. Arthur had known him for years, his name was Tyr and he was a gullible young guy, nice but way too trusting. The young man's eyes were getting larger when Arthur walked in, still carrying Merlin over his shoulder.

"Sire, is everything all right?"

"Yes, Tyr, thank you." Arthur forced himself to give the boy a cheerful smile. "Merlin here is a little drunk, so I thought a ride in the woods would sober him up, if you know what I mean?"

"Drunk, Sire?" Tyr looked baffled, suddenly making Arthur wonder if this had been the right thing to say. But with Merlin's trips to the tavern it was a great excuse, and no one would question it. At least he hoped no one would, as Tyr was still staring at him like he'd lost his mind.

"Just get my horse ready, Tyr."

"You'll only take one horse, Sire?"

"Yes. I don't want Merlin to tumble off his horse while he's so out of it."

"Of course, Sire."

Finally the boy had stopped asking questions, got him the cooking pot and utensils he wanted and did his job, so not before long Arthur was on his way. With some combined efforts they had pulled Merlin up on the horse, and the unconscious man was now sitting slumped in front of Arthur, who was holding the reins as well as steadying the swaying body in front of him.

Not daring to make his horse go into a gallop just yet, he reached the Darkling woods in a steady trot, knowing exactly what road he had to take. It was like someone whispered directions inside his head, and he was obeying it on instinct rather than thinking it over.

Now and again Merlin's slack head would fall backwards and black hair blocked Arthur's view, making him cranky, wondering why he had taken his servant along in the first place. He could have locked him inside the dungeon, and would have been long gone before someone missed either him or the servant. He should have thought out his plan more carefully, as he could not return back to Camelot now, he had to move onwards only.

Making his way further into the forest, he turned a corner and then he saw her. An elderly woman wearing a dark grey cloak was standing in the middle of the road. Both her hands lifted in a gesture for him to stop. She somehow seemed familiar when Arthur pulled the reins of his horse and slowly came to a halt.

"Prince Arthur of Camelot. My name is Maeveen and I am the one who orders you to go on your quest. You have to find the amulet of Ailill. You are the only one who can get my amulet back. I have searched for many years to find its location and find a suitable candidate. Only one honourable, noble and brave of heart can claim it."

"Surely there are many more of these men out there."

"It is you, Arthur Pendragon, who is destined to help me reclaim the amulet. If you do not comply with my wishes, you will never leave my created world of your worst fears and dreams."

A feeling of hopelessness and fear crawled up into Arthur's heart. Closing his eyes for a moment, he could see the fog he was trapped in so clearly that a lump rose inside his throat. Then the feeling was gone and he felt sure of himself again, somehow leaving his other self behind in the fog.

And this Arthur was not intimidated by the woman in front of him, at all. "You already know I am willing to go on your quest, or I would not have come to this place."

"You must leave your servant behind."

"Merlin?" Arthur could hear himself bark in sarcastic mirth. "If I let him go he will run straight to Camelot and this quest will end before it has even begun. You want that, Maeveen?"

"Then you must kill him."

"Kill Merlin?" Arthur stared at the back of the young man's raven hair and instinctively placed a protective arm around him, doubt coming to the surface. "I cannot kill Merlin, he is..."

"He is what?"

Arthur didn't know the answer, he just felt deep within himself again that it was wrong. That this was not who he was and no one could persuade him otherwise. The urge to obey Maeveen was so strong that he couldn't resist, but holding his arm around Merlin's body, it felt like he was suddenly anchored to what was right, what was good. And he wouldn't let go. He was becoming slowly aware that this was probably the reason Merlin had to be here. He had to let Maeveen see that Merlin was coming along, whether she liked it or not.

"He is my servant and I need his help," he mumbled.

"Very well." Maeveen raised her brows, exhibiting a slightly surprised look on her face that disappeared within a moment, making Arthur wonder if it ever had been there at all. "I want you to travel on to the forest of Balor. There I will tell you what to do next."

"Balor, that is where the Cockatrice live."

"They are of no concern to you, I will make sure of that."

"It is a long ride, many days."

"You better make haste then."


Merlin slowly woke to the movements of rocking back and forward, his head seemingly unattached to his body as it swayed on his neck like the only thing holding it this way was a piece of string. His arms were slack, hanging to his side, and his body seemed to be bobbing up and down like a ship on waves.

Opening his eyes he felt a piercing headache reaching to claim him, and slightly disorientated, he slowly lifted his uncooperative head and looked around to take in his surroundings. A familiar smell exploded in his nose while he tried to find out what was going on. The smell of a horse and Arthur, mixed together like it was after he'd cleaned the Prince's clothes after a long hard day's ride.

"Arthur?" Merlin could hear the croak in his own voice and he coughed to get rid of it.

"Ah, you're finally awake. Took you a while."

Arthur's voice came from near his right ear and his eyes flew open, ignoring the pain in his head, while he felt his body tense in memory of what had happened in Arthur's chamber. But what had happened exactly? All he remembered was the Prince having this angry and distant look in his eyes and him thinking Arthur could be enchanted. Arthur pushing him against a wall, and after that? Nothing.

"Stop wiggling so much or you can walk." Arthur's voice sounded different, harsh, bitter and sad and it made Merlin swallow deeply, wishing he knew an instant spell that would lift this enchantment from the Prince before he would do something he regretted later, or even worse, do harm to himself.

Merlin suddenly realised he was sitting on a horse, Arthur behind him holding on to him with one strong arm preventing him from falling, while his other hand held the reins in check as they slowly made their way through a forest. The trees were whispering in the summer breeze and the sun was shining brightly.

Taking in his surroundings, Merlin had no idea how far away they were from Camelot already, but he did know they had to return. Camelot was the only place where he could try and lift this enchantment or whatever it was, and he needed Gaius' help with that.

"You're still wiggling, stop it!" Arthur barked from behind him.

"Why didn't you bring two horses instead, you blockhead?" Merlin couldn't help himself but react the way he always did. It normally helped lift the tension in dangerous situations, although this time Arthur might well be the danger here, even though Merlin knew his friend couldn't help it. Someone had done this to him for a reason and he was definitely going to find out who, when, why and how.

"All right, that's it. Get off!" Arthur, of course, didn't respond like he normally did, and Merlin wasn't so sure he should have spoken in the first place. Seeing his friend act the way he did in a way that was so unreal and far from who he was, made Merlin already even more determined to find a cure.

He was all but pushed off the horse and almost landed on his knees. A shockwave of fear went through his body and it had nothing to do with being pushed off the horse. It was almost like Arthur was some unknown entity that moved in a huge cloud of fog, and all Merlin could do was step back from the Prince who had jumped off the horse, his breath catching in his throat.

Then it was gone and Arthur himself stood there gaping at him. Well, not himself, but at least the fog was gone and Merlin understood in that instant that this was what held his friend captive. That he was still there inside that thick grey fog. And that whoever put it there in his head, his mind, was a powerful sorcerer. This wasn't of Morgana or Morgause's doing, this was different. Maybe Gaius knew what it was. It felt more than ever his duty to bring Arthur safely back to Camelot.

"Put your hands together."

"Wha, what?" Merlin had been lost in thought, and the harsh voice of the man he considered his friend pulled him out of it.

"You'll walk, but I don't want you to run away." Arthur had pulled a piece of rope out of one of his saddle bags and was coming his way.

"Ah, wait." Merlin took a step backwards, away from Arthur. "What if I tell you that you should really come back with me to Camelot because you have been enchanted, and we need to find Gaius to come up with a way to lift this spell."

"Are you barking mad?" Arthur's eyes had turned to dangerous looking slits and he didn't stop advancing towards Merlin. "If I were enchanted, I would know."

"Not necessarily."

"I am not going to listen to this nonsense, we are on a quest."

"Yes, but why and for whom?"

"That is none of your business."

"If I am coming along, I would like to know."

"Hands!" Arthur moved quickly and grabbed his wrists, pulling them together and not looking up at him. It was like he was acting on some other person's orders. Merlin guessed he actually was. The someone who conjured the dark magic he had felt that night in his room, it was very powerful indeed.

"You would never tie up my hands like this, if you weren't enchanted," Merlin countered but didn't resist when Arthur bound his wrists together with the coarse rope. "Listen to me, Arthur."

"Shut up."

Arthur mounted his horse, holding the other end of the rope while he gave his horse a nudge to move. The rope was pulled taut, cutting into Merlin's wrists, so he had no choice but to follow.

If this powerful sorcerer actually thought he could get away with this, he had it coming. Merlin's headache was getting worse, and he started to feel irritated more than worried about the Prince. Arthur was going to come back with him to Camelot, willingly or not.

"Onsleape nu," Merlin silently whispered and to his satisfaction as well as relief, Arthur reacted perfectly normal to the sleeping spell. His body relaxed and he fell sideways, hanging there for a precarious moment before landing on the soft mossy forest floor with an audible thud.

Merlin quickly moved around the horse to grab its reins. Turning towards Arthur, he could hear a small snore coming from the Prince, who had turned on his side like he was sleeping in his own bed. The sight of that made Merlin snigger and if the situation hadn't been so grave he would probably have laughed about it as well.

When another spell quickly loosened the ropes holding his wrists together, he suddenly felt it. A dark presence behind him, a disturbance in magic, almost like he had felt that night when he'd already thought something had to be wrong with Arthur.

Merlin had met his share of dark sorcerers, but this was different. It was almost like a wave of air that sickened him, that made him choke, that almost suffocated him. He turned towards the threat, his hands automatically lifted up in defence.

There stood a woman, she looked old but it was hard to guess her age. The hood of her cloak had been pushed back and her hair showed traces of grey and blond, mixed together. But the most disturbing thing about her was this touch of grey fog clinging onto her. Just like he'd seen with Arthur when he had dismounted.

"You are only a servant, how is this possible?" the woman demanded, her eyes not leaving him, studying him with interest and a mixture of hatred but also fear, it seemed. This definitely strengthened Merlin and he raised himself, head held high and his best defiant glare pointed at the sorceress in front of him. She had seen him using magic, good. He would show her some more.

"You have done this to Arthur, undo what you have done!" Merlin demanded.

"You have magic it seems." She stood there, unmoving, watching him intently.

"Arthur will return to Camelot with me, and you will lift this enchantment immediately." Merlin almost didn't recognize the dark edge to his voice as his own. In situations like this, dealing with dark sorcerers or threats of a different kind, his magical instinct always took control. He took control. No longer the bumbling idiot servant, the powerful warlock came to the surface.

The woman let out an eerie bark of laughter and raised her hands towards him, probably to cast some dark spell. "I will destroy you with one wave of my finger, boy!"

"I don't think so." He slowly lifted one hand higher, magic already sizzling through his fingertips.

But before Merlin could gather his will and utter a spell, a strong arm suddenly sneaked from behind around his neck, taking him by surprise as he'd been so focused on the sorceress in front of him, and the arm pulled hard enough to make him choke. It was Arthur.

"Arthur, stop." It was all Merlin could whisper before the edge of his vision turned blurry and his mind screamed at him to use magic to get loose, but he also knew he couldn't. He was totally helpless to overtake the Prince without it, and it wasn't the time for Arthur to discover the truth about him.

Fear gripped Merlin's heart when the arm pulled harder and his air supply was effectively cut off. He should use his magic, he should. The thought played itself over and over in Merlin's mind. Lights danced in front of his eyes and he didn't even try to resist anymore when darkness welcomed him once more.


Chapter 4

Arthur's head was spinning in so many directions that he didn't know what to do, what to think, and he didn't even know what just happened. It was clear that he was standing in a forest clearing, and that he was trying to hold Merlin's body up straight, but he wasn't actually succeeding as his fingers felt numb, his arms, too. When he let go, the young man fell in a heap at his feet.

Severing the connection between them seemed to snap Arthur back to his quest. He gazed at Merlin for a moment wondering what had happened, when he heard Maeveen's voice in front of him. A voice that penetrated his mind, his thoughts, his free self. He wanted, needed to defy her, but he had no idea how to.

"He is dangerous, you have to kill him. Now!" Maeveen all but barked at him, pointing down at Merlin, her voice piercing through the fog that swirled like a storm around Arthur's body and mind.

"Kill him?" Hadn't she ordered something like this before? He couldn't really remember.

"Yes, do it now or I will."

Arthur drew his sword, pointing it at the body on the ground. While he did so, his hand began to tremble violently and drops of perspiration slid down his face. Kill him, he had to kill him because this servant was a threat to the quest, a threat to Maeveen. They couldn't have that, the quest had to be uninterrupted and Arthur would do anything to make sure of that.

Taking his sword in both hands, his breath coming in short gasps, he lifted it. It swayed in the air for a second, and just when he was ready to do what must be done, a soft whisper penetrated his mind and the fog. Merlin's voice, whispering his name, but it came from so far away he wasn't sure it could actually be Merlin. The young man still lying unconscious at his feet, so it really couldn't be him.

"NO!" Maeveen yelled at him. Her hand lifted as if she was about to perform a magical spell that would end Merlin's life herself. "Kill him, Pendragon, kill him."

"I... I can't." Arthur grinded out between clenched teeth, lowering his sword, "I can't, I'm so sorry Maeveen, I can't do it."

"Then I will."

Not being able to move, Arthur gaped at her while she made her way over to Merlin's body. She kneeled and put her bony right hand on the young man's chest, over his heart. Before Arthur could even think of stopping her because it seemed he was literally frozen to the ground, she started to chant a spell.

There was a dark red glow slowly coming from her hand. The light wasn't solid, but looked like it had small tentacles, reaching like claws into Merlin's chest, making his frail looking body squirm beneath her hand. There was no sound coming from Merlin's mouth, but Arthur gasped in shock as if the glow had hit him instead.

Suddenly, without warning, Maeveen let out a high pitched scream and fell backwards onto the ground, her right hand still glowing, but the glow had turned golden instead of black and red. She grabbed her hand, distress visible in her eyes while she muttered some ancient words that Arthur couldn't understand.

With surprising ease and quickness she turned away from them. A heavy gust of wind tossed debris into the air, and when Arthur finally opened his eyes to see what had happened, she was gone. All that was left was a pile of leaves that had almost covered up Merlin entirely.

Arthur let out a shaky sigh while his head started spinning once more. He wasn't sure what had happened, or why he felt so drained all of a sudden. Wasn't there something he should do? Wasn't there some quest he was on? Everything in his head was a giant blur, and this suddenly irritated him to no end. If he was on a quest, it would come to him soon. It had to.

Perhaps some rest would do the trick. It was getting late in the afternoon, and he'd have to make camp before it got dark. To his relief he spotted his horse while he scanned the area. The small clearing he was in would be ideal to spend the night.

Walking across the clearing to get the horse, he stopped dead in his tracks. A soft insistent familiar voice penetrated his mind once more, and it felt like some clammy hand was touching his face and arm. He spun around, ready to defend himself from danger. All his senses were struggling to gain full alert of the situation, which was surprisingly hard.

There was nothing there. The clearing looked peaceful, serene even, but as he let out a deep breath, his tense muscles relaxing, a sharp sting went through his head. Sharp enough to make him gasp for air. In fact, it felt like he couldn't breathe at all. He was drowning on dry land.

His fingers automatically reached for his throat, but somewhere in their movement up they became too heavy and Arthur barely registered them falling to his side. Everything became a blur, while that familiar voice screamed in his mind, demanding he would listen. And he knew he had no other choice but to obey. Or else all would be lost.

Arthur didn't know how long he'd been standing there, but as the feeling of drowning passed, he quickly shook his head in annoyance. He had to prepare for the night, and what had he been doing? It was ridiculous really. He was on a mission after all, he should behave like a knight. Be ready for more orders from Maeveen, because she was lingering in his mind, no longer screaming, but making it clear that he was needed. That this was important, for both of them.

There was something still missing here though, something he'd overlooked. Maybe it wasn't anything important, or Maeveen would probably have told him already?

"Merlin."

"What?" Arthur asked, startled by the whisper in his mind. This time it wasn't Maeveen's familiar voice though, it was a man's voice. And as suddenly as it came, it was gone, leaving the idea of Merlin right inside his head. Merlin, where was he again?

He crossed the clearing once more, stopping at a big pile of leaves where a face and a lank body became visible. The young man was lying so still, it crossed Arthur's mind that he might be dead if it weren't for his chest rising and falling in a slow but steady rhythm. The irritation grew again, and this time it was with his servant. Merlin could be such a pain in the neck, and he still wondered why he had taken him along in the first place. If Maeveen wanted him dead, maybe Arthur should have obeyed her? I mean, there must have been a good reason for her to want him dead, right?

Gazing down at Merlin he shook his head. Every time he as much as looked or thought about the man, his orders from the woman that had sent him on his quest became doubtful, and he wasn't sure why. All he knew was that when he looked down at Merlin, he not only felt irritated, but something else, something that was connecting him to the part in his mind that was his. He just had to reach out and grab on to it.

With a sigh he pulled Merlin from under the pile of leaves that had covered him, brushed some dirt and leaves from his pale face, and carefully propped up the man's body against a nearby tree.

Time to build a fire and prepare some food. The thought of food made his stomach growl in agreement. He hadn't eaten for a while, and Arthur wasn't even sure why he had skipped breakfast that morning, just that he did. Wasn't Merlin supposed to take care of his food?

Ransacking the pack on the horse, Arthur found what he was looking for. Some parsnips, parsley, he had even taken some clotted butter in a sack. He could make a stew, he was totally confident that he could. He had seen Merlin make a stew before, no big deal. As long as he didn't have to cook a chicken, it was going to turn out fine. Either that, or he would have to eat the old bread he'd taken along as well. It wasn't very inviting, so stew it was. He had taken a cooking pot and utensils as well after all. Maybe Merlin thought he was totally useless in this area, but he would show his servant the best stew ever. Time to gather some firewood.

Gazing at Merlin, who was still unconscious, he let out a deep sigh. If he left his servant behind in the morning, would he survive, far from Camelot and without food? It would definitely make his mission less complicated.

Arthur decided that it needed some serious thought.


Merlin hated waking up after being knocked out, again. Usually it was Arthur getting knocked out, not him. Not so much anyway, and he wasn't planning on making it a habit either. His headache had intensified, his chest hurt like someone had jumped up and down on it, and he felt sick and cold. Slowly the blurred forest sharpened and he started to look around.

It was already dark and he was sitting with his back against a large tree. This tree was at the edge of a small clearing, and not far from him a fire was burning. Carefully he pulled up his knees and raised his hands to cup his pounding head, and he was actually surprised his hands weren't tied together again.

Then he noticed Arthur, sitting on a log near the fire. The Prince seemed to be gazing into the flames, not noticing his surroundings or Merlin waking up. All looked normal, and peaceful. There was no sign of that dark sorceress anywhere, and Merlin let out a deep breath, wondering who she was exactly and how powerful, or where she was right now. He also wondered why he was still alive.

The idea of being watched by her gave him goose bumps all over, his stomach clenching painfully. He had been willing and even eager to take on her magical challenge, but he didn't know what would have happened if Arthur hadn't intervened when he did. Would he have lost this magical battle against her? Could he even defeat her? A desperate shiver ran through his body.

Merlin could of course easily put Arthur to sleep again without him even realising it, but a little nagging voice inside of him started to insist he shouldn't and it told him to stay calm and observe.

There was a different kind of energy coming from the Prince who was fervently poking a long twig into the fire at the moment, the flames dancing and spreading a peaceful vibe towards Merlin, making him feel less desperate for some reason. Even less desperate to bring his friend back to Camelot and safety right away. Also, the smell of food came his way. Arthur had actually cooked?

"You are such an idiot, Merlin," said a familiar voice.

Arthur's gaze was turned towards him and he all but smiled for an instant before the smile was replaced with a confused glare and a tense posture. Merlin could clearly see that Arthur was fighting this enchantment, hard. He couldn't stop a knowing look of sympathy and felt he should push some more against the boundaries of this spell placed on his friend. Maybe together they would be able to break that sorceress and he wouldn't need Gaius after all?

"And if you weren't such a prat you would allow me to have some stew."

"What?" Arthur asked in an absentmindedly way.

Merlin let out a small exasperated sigh and pointed at his stomach. "Hungry, food, please?"

That seemed to wake Arthur from his daze, although not in a way Merlin was hoping for. "That's just pathetic, you know." The Prince's voice sounded cold and told Merlin that the moment where he'd almost reached the real Arthur was gone now. Replaced by someone he didn't know and it frightened him more than he could say.

"Arthur, please, I'm starving."

"I don't care."

"Please?"

"Shut up."

It really took all of Merlin's patience and self control not to leap up, put Arthur to sleep again and get himself something to eat. His stomach was growling in agony and the smell of the stew made his mouth water, even though he didn't particularly like stew.

The nagging feeling inside him was still there though, the one telling him he should wait and play nice. Pins and needles in the back of his neck set his hair on end as he turned his head abruptly to follow the direction of something he sensed out there in the darkness of the forest. It wasn't a dark kind of presence he felt and he released the shaky breath he had been holding. This definitely wasn't the sorceress coming back.

"Emrys."

The soft voice in his mind startled him a little even though this had happened before. It was always a strange experience, like someone was invading his inner core and private thoughts. Only the druids would be able to call upon him like this, and to call him Emrys. That name always made him feel uncomfortable, but tonight it sounded like a beacon of light in the darkness, a clear sign that he was not alone.

"Yes?" Merlin answered in his mind while keeping a wary eye on Arthur who had returned to poke the fire in silence, totally ignoring him again.

The voice was so close now that Merlin started to look around carefully to see if he could find its source. It felt like a group of druids, not just one, but he couldn't see them.

"You must go on this quest with the Once and Future King of Camelot" the voice said.

"Why?"

"Maeveen the warrior Queen of Connacht needs to be stopped."

"What does she want?" Merlin had never heard of the name before, not even from Gaius or his many books. He still wondered if he would be able to stand up against her. The druids might know.

"Her husband, Lord Ailill, banished her many years ago. He was a powerful but benevolent sorcerer who lived in the lands of Connacht. You know this now as the forest of Balor. He ruled there from a bronze pillared palace that stood in a valley where life was magical, and where druids gathered to listen to his teachings.

He owned an object known as the amulet of Ailill. He made this amulet to protect his land and his people. The amulet has the gift of enhancing magical powers, good or bad. It is made of pure gold with a green jewel imbedded into it.

Maeveen's powers were not as strong as her husband's, but she used his amulet without his consent, and her powers grew, and she nearly succeeded in overthrowing her husband's rule.

The druids stopped her before she destroyed the newly forged five kingdoms. They conjured a spell that forced her into a twilight world of eternal fog, banned from the land of Connacht forever. Then the druids and Lord Ailill hid the amulet in a place where only a person good and brave of heart would be able to reach it.

However, not long ago our people awoke with the knowledge that something extremely powerful and dark had managed to find a way to elude our spell and leave the twilight world of fog for short periods of time. It was Maeveen. She is as real as any person when she walks the Earth, but she cannot sustain in our world for long.

And now, Emrys, the amulet of Ailill is all she wants. She knows its location, but knows she cannot reach it because of a powerful protective magic the druids of earlier days have put on it."

"But what's that got to do with Arthur?" Merlin knew it was a dumb question the moment it had popped up in his mind. He was still a bit shaken after everything that had happened, and all this information made his head swim.

"Maeveen doesn't have the power to get the amulet. All her power is needed to be able to escape the twilight world for what seem only moments to her. She needed a vessel to help her."

"Arthur."

"Arthur is brave of heart and the Once and Future King, the destiny of Albion lies in his hands. Maeveen knows about the legend and concluded he is the one who is destined to get it for her. With a strong enchantment, she has lured him into the twilight world to do her bidding and to end his life when his quest is done. As she is still partially trapped in that world, it wasn't difficult for her to trap Arthur as well."

"So, he's a threat to her, but she thinks she needs him for this?"

"Yes, and she is right about that." The voice was silent for a moment before continuing softly, "You are now a threat to her as well."

"Why hasn't she killed me, then?"

"Because something about your magic prevented her. We do not know for certain, but we think your unique powers cause her excruciating pain. Like it pushes her back into the twilight world, the place she fought so hard for to be able to leave. We felt her pain when she tried to kill you. This is how we found you. It is also why she wanted the Prince of Camelot to do her bidding and kill you himself."

"She asked Arthur to kill me?"

"Yes. We think she already sensed something in your magic, but of course it was also to reassure her grip on the Prince."

Merlin felt confused, as he had no idea how his magic could have achieved such a thing without him consciously knowing about it. That was just… odd. His magic acting out without him? "So, my magic stopped her?"

"Yes."

"And what stopped Arthur from killing me?"

"We do not believe her grip on the young Pendragon will hold. There might be a chance that he will escape the twilight world she has trapped him in."

"How?"

"A part of him isn't trapped, like Maeveen herself has been. Arthur is a strong willed person."

"Thanks for clearing that up, I'm feeling much better now." Merlin snorted, blinked a couple of times, checking if Arthur was still sitting near the fire. Talking inside his mind like this drained him, and his stomach growled so hard it was almost getting embarrassing. "How do I stop her?"

"Maeveen's power can be destroyed together with the amulet."

"Yes, but how? And is there a way to help Arthur escape her enchantment?"

"Once Maeveen is no more, Arthur will be himself again."

"Can we even destroy the amulet?"

"Only with your combined talents will you be able to destroy the green jewel within the amulet." The druid's voice got softer, like it was moving away from him. "It is a combination of physical strength and magic. She will do everything within her powers to get the amulet from the two of you, but she fears your magic, so she will probably use Arthur to make you comply. If she can not kill you, she will try and kill him instead after you have gained it."

"But if I use my magic, Arthur will know." Merlin desperately forced the words out, the last bit of energy he had flowing from his body with the effort. "Please, you have to help me."

"You will find a way, Emrys."

"Wait."

The presence of the group of druids he'd felt was gone. The only noise left were the sounds of the forest around him, and the crackling fire where Arthur finally looked up again staring at him like he'd seen him for the first time today, a look of concentration on his face.

"Arthur?" Merlin inquired, his mind still going over what he'd been told, "are you all right?"

"Why shouldn't I be?"

"You look, uh— distracted?"

"I'm on an important quest, Merlin."

"I know."

"How could you possibly know, you're just a servant."

"I am coming with you."

"You were already."

"Willingly."

Arthur didn't actually seem to acknowledge the fact, while Merlin had thought it might at least raise some suspicion, the look of concentration returning while he muttered something that sounded a lot like; 'Well, that certainly makes a difference', before he lay down in front of the fire, settling there for the night.

"As long as you know where's were heading, that is," Merlin tried, keeping his voice upbeat in an attempt to get Arthur to react. How would he ever know how to break this spell, if he didn't know exactly how it affected his friend?

"Get some sleep."

"I'm hungry, can't sleep while I'm hungry."

There was a deep sigh from the prince who turned around, his back towards the fire and Merlin. It was so abnormal to see Arthur reacting the way he did, or in fact, didn't. Merlin clenched his teeth in frustration. He knew there wasn't much he could do right now, but he also felt like the old Arthur was somewhere in there, waiting for a chance to surface. Merlin would be there if this happened, and he would not let go of his friend. Ever.

Carefully Merlin stood up, stretching painful muscles. It felt like a horse had been trampling on top of him while he let out a low groan. There was a large bag lying on the leafy ground near the fire. Arthur, thank goodness had taken along some supplies, but did he dare take some?

His stomach made the decision for him, so he slowly eased his way over to the fire, keeping one eye on Arthur. The man always slept with one eye open it seemed. Maybe that was something that these knights learned during their basic training? Merlin wondered. But there was no movement from the prince, even though Merlin was certain that Arthur would have heard him.

His arm disappearing inside the supply bag, Merlin grabbed hold of the piece of bread like his life depended on it. Well, it actually did, he concluded with a grim smile, pulling back his arm and breaking off a big piece, quickly shoving it in his mouth. Dry bread or not, it tasted like heaven.

Arthur didn't mind him eating, and didn't mind him tagging along. It was a start, a good sign. At least that was what Merlin hoped for when he settled down for the night.


Chapter 5

They reached a fast flowing river and an unsteady looking bridge at the end of the next morning. Merlin knew this place, and feared it. The forest of Balor was on the other side of this river stretching towards the south, its trees dark and looming, casting a shade so high and wide that sunlight couldn't reach the water. There were dangerous creatures living in those forests, Merlin had heard the tales.

He was exhausted from having to walk beside the horse, while Arthur had been riding, but he hadn't dared to start a fight over it, afraid that the Prince would leave him behind or attack him in some way. Arthur was unpredictable now, and Merlin knew he had to tread carefully if this mission was to succeed.

The bridge spanning the wide, swirling river was made of wooden planks tied together horizontally with thick rope between four huge trees. The lower part of the bridge almost touched the fast-flowing water, and the rush of it was so loud they would have to speak loudly to understand each other.

Were they really going in the right direction? Merlin wondered for the tenth time. A quick gaze at Arthur up on his horse, and he knew for certain this was the only path to take. The Prince didn't look worried at all.

Merlin could handle Arthur's outbursts while enchanted, but what he hated was the dream-like state his friend was drifting in and out. Even some exceptionally snarky remarks thrown at Arthur were not enough to break that state. This worried Merlin very much because they needed their wits. This wasn't an easy quest, and he still wasn't sure about the best course of action.

This amulet would not be easy to obtain, and with Maeveen breathing down their necks and an enchanted Arthur, Merlin felt insecure to say the least. The druids seem to have faith in his abilities, but he needed to find that faith within himself as well. Arthur's life depended on him. No pressure.

"We will cross the bridge." Arthur stated the obvious while dismounting. Merlin didn't get the time to object because his friend had already started to inspect the ropes around the trees on their side of the shore. There had to be a better way to cross this dangerous river and besides, they had to leave the horse behind.

"What about the supplies?" Merlin asked, doing his best to make himself heard. This river was definitely loud.

"You can carry them," Arthur shouted back at him.

"What, all of it?"

"Is there a problem?" The Prince took a step towards him, his face showing signs of both fatigue and resentment. "You are the servant, I am the Prince, you will carry the supplies, Merlin."

"What if I slip and fall and all the supplies end up in the river?"

The Prince ignored him and grabbed a piece of rope from their supplies, making Merlin swallow while his mind raced back to when Arthur had tied his hands together. He quickly stepped back, but he shouldn't have worried. Arthur used it to tie his sword to his belt with a double loop and knots that required ingenuity at best.

"Ah, so if the supplies end up in the river, no problem, but your precious sword needs to be protected at all cost?" Merlin released a deep sigh. "You can't eat a sword, you know."

"Shut up, Merlin."

With careful steps, Arthur moved onto the bridge. He stayed near the shore at first, moving his whole weight up and down to make sure the planks were sturdy enough to hold him. Merlin was holding his breath, not sure that bouncing up and down was such a great idea in the first place.

Arthur made slow progress, his feet sliding over the wooden planks now. Merlin couldn't see his friend's face, but his whole body stance was a mixture of the utmost concentration but instability as well. This was so not a good idea.

Merlin bit his lower lip, grabbing the supplies while keeping one eye on the Prince, whose feet were almost touching the water where the bridge reached its lowest point. The planks would be wet and slippery and Arthur wasn't slowing down, probably overconfident. Merlin didn't even want to think about the fact that he had to cross, weighed down with all the supplies.

Just when he'd decided that he was overreacting and all was going well, there was a loud yell and he turned just as Arthur lost his balance, the bridge swaying while the Prince grabbed onto the ropes, trying to steady himself.

Things got worse when Arthur actually slipped, and landed with his upper body on the wet planks with his legs sideways in the water. The sheer force of the water almost pulled him off. With a desperate cry he barely managed to grab hold of the ropes with one hand and hung there.

"Arthur!" Merlin had dropped the sack of supplies the instant he noticed things were going desperately wrong. "Hang on, I'll get you."

"Then hurry up!"

Merlin hesitated for a moment. Normally Arthur would have shouted at him to stay where he was, to keep himself safe. But of course this was not the Arthur he knew, the spell made him appear uncaring, only focused on one thing, completing his mission. What if there wasn't a way out of this? What if he, they, failed? It wasn't an option. They would find the amulet, destroy it and with that Maeveen would be no more.

"Merlin!"

The frantic voice made him jump into action. "Coming, Sire."

Would this bridge be strong enough to hold two people? Merlin wasn't convinced, at all, but there was no other way to reach Arthur. It would have been easy using his magic, but that was, of course, out of the question, making this much more frustrating.

The process of actually reaching Arthur seemed to last forever. It wouldn't do them any good if they both fell in the river. Merlin was trying to keep his breathing under control, but his heart was racing and cold sweat was creeping down his back, while he made his way across with painstaking care, the bridge bending and creaking with every step. Foam and water drenched him while he finally had the chance to reach out to Arthur.

"I can't, anymore, Merlin..." Arthur's left hand lost its hold, and Merlin knew his friend wouldn't be able to hang on much longer. The pull of the water was too strong, too cold. Hands were going numb, while he was almost there, almost.

"Hang on, Arthur, hang on."

Holding on to a rope with one hand, he bent and grabbed at Arthur's arm, missing it just as Arthur slid backwards, his head disappearing under the foaming surface of the water, while his body was sucked away under the bridge at high speed.

"No!"

His magic seemed to react instinctively, a warm glow already spreading through his body and mind, totally focused on one thing... Saving Arthur. With one hand extended, he muttered the spell that would gain him speed and stamina while he made his way to the other side of the bridge. He started running as soon as his feet hit the grassy shore in the direction where he could just see Arthur's head above the water.

It felt like flying rather than running, magic coursing through him in a way he had only felt a couple of times before. It felt uncontained, out of control almost, and under normal circumstances Merlin would have been able to stop the one thing that came as normal to him as breathing.

It overwhelmed his senses, only fixed on the Prince, his friend Arthur down there in the river. If he couldn't get to him in time he would surely drown. That was 'not' going to happen. Another fiery push of magic sent Merlin literally flying, and in what could probably be seen as a gigantic leap, he landed in the foaming water, right next to Arthur.

It was a surprise to him that he didn't actually feel the cold water, or the speedy current. It didn't cost him any effort at all, staying with his head above the water. Like his magic was a protective barrier and was one with its environment. It gave him a sense of exhilaration while he quickly extended his hand towards Arthur, knowing that pulling the Prince onto the shore wouldn't cost him much energy.


The cold water of the river instantly woke Arthur up, like it had dispersed some of the heavy fog and there was an opening he could push himself through and be free. He had no idea where he was or how he had ended up in the fast streaming water that pushed and pulled him around like a log out of control, but he knew instinctively that he had to swim to reach the shore.

Grateful that he wasn't wearing any armour and only his sword, he fought to keep his head above the foaming water to see where he was going. Swallowing mouthfuls of the cold liquid, he could hardly breathe, panic coming close to the surface while he struggled to reach land.

"Arthur, grab my hand."

Merlin's voice sounded very clear and nearby. But how could Merlin sound so clear if they were no doubt both caught up in the river's wild water? He trusted his servant, though, always had, even when the idiot came to him with the strangest ideas or explanations for things occurring. And with Merlin you never knew what surprises came next.

Not questioning the voice, Arthur struggled to raise his hand in the general direction of where it was coming from, and immediately it was grabbed in a firm grip that pulled him not only up out of the water, but also completely out of the fog he'd been in.

He could swear he heard someone scream, a female voice that almost pulled him back down, but Merlin's hand held onto his wrist and arm and there was a strange, warm glow coming from that touch. Strong and comforting, full of hope for what seemed to be Arthur himself. His only lifeline.

Gasping, he finally raised himself up on the shore next to Merlin, spitting out water. The shore of what seemed a wide fast flowing river. A river that looked familiar to him in a way. He'd been here before, near the edges of the dangerous forest of Balor. What the hell were they doing here, the two of them?

"Merlin," he spluttered, still out of breath, turning around on his back, water dripping from his face, hair and clothes. "What happened? Why are we, how did we..."

"Don't try to speak, catch your breath first."

"Catch my... Merlin!" Getting up on one elbow, he directed his view to his friend who was sitting next to him, water also dripping from the man's nose, hair and ears. Merlin had definitely been in the river as well, but how had he saved them both? Arthur blinked a couple of times, not being able to grasp what just happened. "What in the world are we doing here, Merlin?"

Merlin grinned at him, that idiotic dopey grin that made Arthur sometimes want to smack some sense into his servant. They were both wet and he was getting cold, they were in the middle of nowhere near a fast flowing river, and he had no recollection how they even got here and why. He needed some answers and quickly.

"You're all right," Merlin stated, as if that explained everything.

"What?" Arthur shook his head, water from his hair dripping over his face. "Why shouldn't I be?" Raising a suspicious eye brow he bent forward to scrutinise Merlin's joyful expression. "Tell me what happened, and make it quick."

"Or else?"

"I'll figure something out. Get on with it."

"So, you don't remember anything?"

"Merlin." Arthur tried to sound as exasperated as he felt, which wasn't really that difficult.

"We're on a quest." Merlin suddenly looked all serious, making Arthur frown. If they would be on a quest, why couldn't he remember it? This was totally ridiculous. He would have known if they were so far away from Camelot, and near the forest of Balor of all places.

"You father wants you to get hold of the Amulet of Ailill, a dangerous magical object."

"And why don't I remember such an important quest?" Arthur raised his brow and gave Merlin his most stern and unrelenting look, which he knew would make his servant at least a little nervous. "Be honest with me, Merlin. You couldn't keep a lie from me, even if you wanted to."

"Ah, all right, you got me," Merlin didn't seem to be affected by 'the look' this time around, a smile still stuck on his face, which was kind of infuriating to be honest. "But I don't think you will actually believe what I have to say."

"Try me."

"If you insist."

"I do."

Merlin stood up and offered him a hand up. Arthur didn't need a hand, he was perfectly capable of standing up himself, so he ignored the gesture and tried not to show his discomfort when he raised his tired body. His muscles were stiff and painful, so he stretched a couple of times.

"Well," Merlin started, his voice a little apprehensive and Arthur knew he wasn't going to like this story. "A sorceress called Maeveen has enchanted you, and you are, or were, under her spell. She's the one who wants that Amulet of Ailill. That part is actually true, and also the part where we have to get a hold of it. We have to destroy it to lift the spell."

"I would know if I was under a witch's spell, Merlin, what do you take me for?"

"A clotpole?"

"Seriously..."

"I am serious. You fell into the river, I saved your neck and it seems that something has 'woken you up', if you want to call it that."

"Maybe it was the cold water?" Arthur asked, then scolded himself for asking. This story sounded so, so; well it sounded bizarre and absurd. It made him wonder if there was some truth in it, because a story like this could not have been made up. And definitely not by Merlin. It just bothered him immensely that he couldn't remember a thing. He was a man who always felt in control, and this scared him. But how on Earth had someone, a witch, managed to enchant him? It wasn't possible, not him, although deep down in his heart he knew that Merlin was telling the truth. He could read it rather easily in the other man's eyes.

"That could be it, yes. The water." Merlin didn't sound convinced though, and Arthur wondered if there was something else he needed to know right away. There were, of course, lots of questions to ask, but he knew he had to stick to the problem at hand.

"How was I enchanted?" He closed his eyes when the question left his lips. As much as he liked to ignore the question, it somehow escaped him before he could stop himself. Because asking would mean acknowledging something he hated. The use of magic, dangerous magic.

Merlin was opening his mouth, Arthur could see it clearly, but it seemed like no sound was coming out. It felt like the whole world was suddenly enveloped in a thick fog, the kind that would stick to you while you walked. It had a suffocating effect, and Arthur's legs started shaking, while he almost fell to his knees. A female voice softly whispered unrecognisable words in his mind.

Imagines were coming to him so fast, he gasped. In one of them he could see himself hit Merlin, and in another he strangled his servant, while an unknown woman in a cloak was urging him on. Urging him to kill his friend. This couldn't be, he would never ever hurt Merlin, he...

A strong hand on his shoulder abruptly pulled him back towards an imaginary shore. Feeling dazed and disorientated, he peered blearily at the blue eyes hovering in front of his face, looking concerned. And how did he end up on his knees?

"Merlin?"

"What happened?"

"I'm, I was, I am so sorry." Arthur struggled to keep his body from shaking, his emotions from surfacing. He had hurt Merlin, his best friend, his loyal idiot servant. He felt devastated.

"Arthur?"

"I hurt you."

"Ah." Merlin face scrunched up for a second, as if he was reliving the memory as well, but it only took him a moment to recover and put his face back into an understanding smile. "You were enchanted, it's not your fault. You didn't know what you were doing."

"I should have fought it more."

"You are now."

"Do you think…" Arthur barely managed to keep his voice steady and strong. "Do you think I am still enchanted, and this is just a temporary thing? I don't, I..."

"I honestly don't know." Merlin let out a deep sigh, and from the look on his face it was clearly noticeable that he could see Arthur still struggled to come to terms with his earlier actions, the ones he couldn't control. Of course he knew that Merlin didn't hold him responsible for what he did, but this could happen again, which was unacceptable. "But we've got to work with what we do know."

"What if this Maeveen suddenly decides to visit us again, because she wants to strengthen her grip on me?" Arthur found the strength to stand up and did so with a certain force, almost toppling over again. He couldn't care less, he needed to fight that witch, needed control again. His body wasn't going to betray him.

He automatically found the hilt of his sword and let out a deep, shuddering sigh, relieved it was still attached to his belt. Although he wondered why it was tied with a piece of rope. Magic couldn't be fought with the sword, though, he realised all too well. "We'll be totally helpless against her magic, won't we?"

"We need to focus on finding and destroying that Amulet she's after. It will destroy her and lift the enchantment forever."

"How do you know all these things?"

"Gaius told me."

"And did he tell you where to find this amulet?"

"I thought you knew?"

"And why would I know, Merlin, I don't even know how I got here. All I know is that this is the forest of Balor." Arthur waved one hand towards the tall dark trees behind him, "and we have no horse and no supplies and we're in major trouble."

"Maeveen must have showed you the way." Merlin didn't ask, but muttered it under his breath, his face so seriously that it almost made Arthur laugh. "Maybe if you..."

"What?"

"Close your eyes and concentrate?"

"Merlin, that's ridiculous."

"Any other suggestions then, Sire?"

Arthur let out another deep sigh. He wasn't very keen on the suggestion, but if those images and feelings he'd just had were something to go by, maybe something inside would also make it clear to him which way to go next? He had to admit that it was worth a try. If his father wanted this Amulet to be destroyed, if it was the only way to lift the enchantment, Arthur would try anything.

A thought crossed his mind and he hesitated. "What if by doing this, the witch gets a better grip on my mind?"

"I won't let that happen." Merlin sounded perfectly confident and certain. It was strange to see this side to his servant. Like he was suddenly a totally different person. He thought he knew Merlin, but sometimes he wasn't so sure. He must have stared at Merlin for a long time, because this one lifted his eyebrows in question. "Something wrong?"

"No, it's just... There's something about you."

"I'm a loyal servant?"

"And an idiot."

"Thanks, now will you concentrate so we can get out of here?"

"Are you certain we're on the right side of the river?"

"Yes."


Chapter 6

Merlin didn't actually want Arthur to concentrate, but there was no other option. If the Prince fell into Maeveen's enchantment again, he would blame himself for it. Thinking about it, the only explanation for Arthur being himself at the moment, perhaps temporary, was the cold water. Or did it also have something to do with him? With his magic?

He hadn't been entirely sure, but when Arthur had suddenly fallen to his knees, getting deathly pale and gasping for air, his instinct had been to touch his friend, to lay a hand on his shoulder. The moment he had done this, Arthur seemed to have 'woken' again. Was it that simple? Was this why Maeveen was actually so scared of him? The druid had said that his magic had caused her pain, maybe that was just a part of it?

If he had pulled Arthur back out of that twilight world using his magic, could he do it again? Kilgharrah always told him that they were two sides of the same coin, maybe this connection was essential for their success? Both their talents were needed to complete this quest, so it made sense.

Arthur seemed to surrender to the suggestion of trying to concentrate, even though he had questioned it. There was barely concealed fear in the man's eyes, which made Merlin swallow. He had to be the confident one here, even though Arthur would need the feeling that he was in control.

They sat down on a particularly long grassy spot near the edge of the river, the shade of those tall trees of the forest falling over them like a shadow of doom. What if Maeveen tried to reclaim Arthur again? Would she even dare? Would he be strong enough to fight her?

"So, what do I do?" Arthur asked next to him, his voice carrying over the loud rushing sound of the river.

"Close your eyes. Try and think of this quest and which way you need to go." Without too much thought he automatically put his hand on Arthur's arm. He needed the connection to keep a grip on the situation. To be ready if he needed to pull Arthur back.

"What are you doing?" Arthur asked in a suspicious tone.

"Don't mind me."

"That's hard when your hand is gripping my arm like you're afraid I'll walk away." Arthur suddenly snorted. "I swear, Merlin, I'll won't leave you behind, there's nothing to be afraid of."

"Very funny."

Finally silence fell between them, and all that was heard was the wild river. Merlin turned to gaze at the Prince, to keep a really close eye on what was going on. Arthur had closed his eyes, his breathing seemed slow and deep, although with the noise of the river it was hard to hear. The man's face wasn't as pale as before, it actually looked relaxed and in control. Merlin's hand tightened his grip on Arthur's arm, to make sure this time that his friend knew he was nearby.

Only moments had passed, it seemed, when Arthur let out a sharp breath and opened his eyes, a look of awe on his face, as well as a mixture of surprise and slight fear, which quickly turned into the ' Arthur's look of control.' He blinked a couple of times and met Merlin's gaze.

"And?" Merlin couldn't help but ask straight away.

"You were right. I know where we're heading."

"You saw it?"

"Like a clear map in my head, yes."

Before Merlin could enquire more information, the Prince jumped to his feet and turned to face the dark trees behind them. His stance seemed very sure for a moment, even taking couple of steps towards the edge of the forest. Before entering he froze.

"This does mean the enchantment is still in effect, right?"

"Yes." It was no use lying about it. This spell could only be broken if Maeveen was no more. And Merlin had a feeling she wouldn't turn up before they actually had the amulet in their possession. They were going to find it, that had been her goal in the first place. But there would come a moment where she would use her full power to gain control over Arthur once more, of that he was certain. But would he be ready to face her? The druids seemed to think so.

Arthur pulled out his sword, a determined look in his eyes. "Let's go find that Amulet, and put an end to this witch and her magic." Without waiting for Merlin he took off, his sword held firmly in his hand, and with steady steps he entered the forest of Balor.


The sun had an extremely hard task, reaching through the thick canopy of the forest. Arthur had been here many times before, and a feeling of unease had always accompanied his trips. Rays of sunshine filtered through the leaves, but it didn't warm their surroundings. It was cool and moist and way too quiet. High ferns were growing on hills and over slippery rocks, and it was difficult to pick a good path, because there wasn't one.

Walking became increasingly difficult, as the ferns had to be cut down by his sword. Merlin was right on his heels, and a nervous silence had fallen over them. Even breathing too loud might cause some kind of disaster to fall upon them, so talking was definitely out of the question.

A low branch hit Arthur straight in the face and he cursed. He hated this place, with all his heart. After the incident where Merlin had been poisoned, he'd hoped to never have to come here again. And to be here now, hungry, cold and on a quest against a dangerous witch, well, this just wasn't his day. Correction, it wasn't their day.

They had been walking uphill for a while, when Merlin pulled his sleeve, a look of apprehension clearly on his face. "Are you certain this is the right direction?" It came out in a whisper.

"We need to find the valley." It was all Arthur could think of, some kind of valley.

Merlin didn't answer, but instead his face lightened up in awe of something. Arthur turned to follow that gaze, but all he saw were ferns. Not entirely certain what was so interesting he snapped two fingers in front of his servant's face to pull Merlin out of what suspiciously looked like some kind of happy trance. There was nothing here to be so happy about, they could be lost for all he knew.

"Arthur?" The young man mumbled, not losing his dopey grin.

"Merlin, what?" Arthur tried to keep the annoyance he felt out of his voice when Merlin gazed at him as if he'd seen him for the first time in days. What in the world was wrong with him?

"We've found it." Merlin finally answered.

"Found what?"

"The valley."

"We did?"

"You can't feel it?"

"Feel what?" What was he on about?

"Life," Merlin replied smiling brightly, and making his way forward through the vegetation, his long arms pushing the ferns aside. All too soon Arthur could only see his black hair bobbing, as if the rest of him was swallowed by a sea of plants.

"Wait, Merlin." Arthur quickly followed the man, clearly feeling that they were making their way downhill, the ground feeling soggy under his feet, his sword swaying as he cut ferns out of his way. Why didn't Merlin wait for him, damn it. It could be dangerous down there.

The thought only just left his mind, making him speed up, when the wall of ferns stopped abruptly, almost spitting him out, and he bumped into Merlin who was standing in a secluded valley.

It wasn't a valley in a sense that you could actually see its surrounding hills, as this huge open space in the middle of the forest was surrounded by mountains of seemingly impenetrable green. It was too large to be called a clearing though, it was definitely a valley. It was strange to see and hear that it was teeming with life.

The sun was shining brightly, as the trees seemed to have pulled back from this place. All kinds of flowers, some he'd never seen before, were growing in radiating colours. Birds and butterflies, also a variety of different tints and sizes were flying over their heads, bees were buzzing, there was even a slight breeze of wind, warm and inviting. A lovely summer's day.

Arthur felt his mouth fall open as he took in this unexpected spectacle. And Merlin had felt it before they even reached this place? Maybe the man's hearing was a lot sharper than his? Maybe he had heard the birds sing? That was the only explanation Arthur could come up with.

Merlin was standing next to him, a ridiculously happy smile still plastered on his face. The man's whole stance was one of relaxation and contentment. The eerie silence of walking through the forest was gone, but Arthur knew he had to stay on his guard. He knew they weren't far away from their actual destination. And finding their destination would mean facing Maeveen, because he had no doubt that she would let him go this easily.

He closed his eyes for a moment, breathing in the warm sweet air, knowing they had to move on, the image of a cave clearly in his mind. It had been like that ever since he'd concentrated, to find out where they had to do. He had told Merlin it was like a map, drawn out in his head. But it was actually more like images popping up, pointing him in the direction they needed to go. He'd had an image of this valley, minus all the beautiful flowers and birds, and now he saw the image of a cave.

Trying to get rid of that sensation of drowning he was still experiencing after getting these flashes of images, he shook his head, took in one giant gulp of air and gave Merlin a slap on the back. "Let's go, before you get all emotional about this place."

"Hey, you didn't have to hit me," Merlin complained, "and I am not emotional."

"You were about to be, and that wasn't hitting, now let's go."

Walking through the valley wasn't unpleasant if you could ignore your growling stomach. As if waiting for that cue, Merlin's stomach made a very loud rumbling noise. Arthur frowned while he lifted his finger to stop Merlin from talking. "Don't say it, Merlin, just don't."

"But I'm hungry."

"So am I."

"We could try and find some food and water," Merlin said, gazing around. "Maybe there are edible plants in this valley, berries perhaps?"

Arthur knew he was right. If they were going to face a real threat and he couldn't stand on his legs, they were in huge trouble. If Maeveen didn't finish them off, starving was a very real option.

"All right, let's spread out a bit, but make sure you don't wander out of sight."

"Yes, Sire," came the mocking response. Arthur sighed, while they both started to scrutinise their surroundings to find something edible. And hadn't he heard the water of a small brook nearby?

Not long after, and it wasn't something Arthur had been expecting, Merlin came back with two hands full of blueberries, while he found some hazelnuts. It was a meagre meal, but at least it gave him some energy, while they comfortably walked on through the patches of flowers, following a clearly made trail, making him feel like they didn't have a worry in the world.

The trail they followed ended when they faced a giant rock wall with vegetation, climbing up like dark green vines finding their way to the sun. Not that there was a lot of sunshine left, Arthur noticed. It was going to be dark soon, and they had no tools to make a fire.

Arthur tried to push it to the back of his mind as he scanned the high rock wall in front of them, trying to find a way in. That was all he knew, there had to be a way in, and he was going to find it. In fact, he already did.

"There, that cave over there, that's it." Arthur pointed to his right, where a large, dark, uneven opening had caught his attention. Something, or rather, someone had pulled his thoughts towards this cave. There was a beckoning whisper in his mind, and he shook his head to get rid of it. It was getting harder to keep a clear mind, to focus, and it made him feel weary.

Before they entered he turned back towards his servant, who was eagerly trying to look over his shoulder into the darkness of the cave. Arthur really didn't want to risk his friend's life in there. He felt guilty about what had happened already. He was not about to let anything happen to him, even though he wouldn't admit any of that to Merlin. "I want you to stay right here."

"Arthur, no."

"If something happens in there, if Maeveen gets her grip back on me, then it's not safe for you." Arthur flinched, but knew he had to be honest if he wanted to stand a chance of changing Merlin's stubborn mind. "I might unintentionally, hurt you again."

"It takes two people to get and destroy that amulet."

"How do you know that, and don't tell me Gaius told you?"

"He did." Merlin had a fierce look in his eyes which made Arthur step back in surprise. "And I'm not as useless as you think I am. I can take care of myself. If something does happen to you, you might need me."

"Merlin."

"We're wasting time."

The slender man pushed him aside, confidently striding into the gaping mouth of the cave and instantly disappeared into the darkness. Arthur cursed, loudly this time, following him inside when he heard Merlin's voice muttering nearby. "It's too dark in here. We won't see a thing."

"We need to let our eyes get used to the darkness."

"If you say so."

"And it's not entirely dark." Arthur was slowly getting accustomed to the darkness, clearly seeing a dull, greenish light radiating from the walls of the narrow tunnel they had walked into. The tunnel was high enough for them to stand up straight, and the floor seemed to be sandy, no rocks. It wasn't moist inside, at all, and that surprised him even more than the green glow. This was no ordinary cave and no ordinary tunnel either. This was magic, so they were definitely on the right track. "Just wait a moment."

"If you say so."

"Merlin, stop saying that, it's annoying."

"Sorry."

"And let me pass."

"You want to walk up front?"

"Are you going to continue to ask stupid questions?"

In the dimness he saw Merlin close his mouth with a snap, which made Arthur hide a grin, while the young man was pressing himself against the wall of the tunnel and gave him an overly exaggerated gesture. When Arthur pushed past his servant they almost got stuck, his elbow landing in something soft which evoked a loud gasp.

"Will you watch where you stick your arms?"

"Then hold in your belly." It was a ridiculous thing to say, of course, as Merlin was so skinny that Arthur sometimes wondered if Gaius fed him enough.

Merlin's reply was swift and easy. "You shouldn't have eaten those berries. You could definitely do with losing a few pounds."

"Are you saying I'm fat?" Arthur couldn't help but grin, as they'd had this conversation many times in the past. Of course he was fit and all muscles, which made him broad as well. With a loud grunt he pulled himself from their embarrassing situation and was already scanning the tunnel in front of him. "Let's go."

They followed the tunnel slowly, and Arthur had taken out his sword once more. In the valley it hadn't felt necessary, but in here it was stuffy, silent, way too narrow and probably very dangerous. This tunnel could have all kinds of traps. A shiver went through him when Merlin's hand on his sleeve stopped him instantly.

"Wait, Arthur. Listen."

"One of your funny feelings, Merlin?"

"Get out, that way, now!"

Merlin pushed Arthur forward with more force than he had thought was possible for someone as fragile-looking as his servant, and the moment he stumbled over a rock and into the entrance of another tunnel, half the roof came down behind him.

"Merlin!"


Chapter 7

"Merlin!"

He could hear Arthur's frantic shout while he covered his head with his arms, trying to shield himself from the falling rocks . Everything came down in one big roar as Merlin tripped and fell onto his back while trying to avoid the bigger boulders falling between him and the way into the tunnel he'd pushed Arthur into.

He instinctively uttered a spell that created a shield to protect himself. Lying there on his back, he caught a glimpse of several large rocks falling straight down on him but bounced away from the shield. Merlin gasped in terror. Even though the shield kept him safe, it was still a terrifying experience.

Then it was quiet, dust swirling through the air, rocks piled up all around him while he lay there trying to catch his breath, his body shivering violently.

"Merlin?" It was Arthur's voice, but he couldn't concentrate. It didn't seem too far away though, but for a moment he couldn't come up with a coherent thought about what to do next. He just lay there between a pile of rocks, not being able to move, while his magic still kept up the shield.

At least hearing Arthur's voice meant that the Prince was all right, or had he imagined his voice because he wanted him to be all right? Merlin wasn't so sure. Everything felt so unreal, like one of his many nightmares, where he would either be burned at the stake, of beheaded, or buried under a pile of dirt, almost like what just happened.

His breathing eased as did his nerves when he started to realise how lucky he'd been all his life, being able to use magic. An ordinary man would have died in this downfall of rocks and sand. It might be a burden to keep it a secret in everyday life, but he would be totally lost without it. Arthur as well for that matter, although he would never see it like that, unfortunately.

The name awoke a spark of energy from deep within, and Merlin looked around to see if it was possible to lower his shield. He had to get out of here and find out if the Prince was all right. If it had been his voice he'd heard, or if it had been a figure of his imagination and hope after all.

Merlin always tried to see the positive side of things, but sometimes it was hard. This destiny thing he seemed to be living for never wanted to give him a break. And if he so much as breathed about having a bad day, Arthur would tease him and call him a pessimist, just to gain a reaction. The man could be such a pompous ass at times. But losing him was somehow unimaginable. It would be like losing a part of himself.

The pile of rocks around him shifted a little when he lowered his shield, while his heightened senses focused on his surroundings and the huge pile of rocks that separated him from Arthur. The green glow visible all around him somehow eased the feeling of dread.

Of course he could try and blow that pile out of the way, but using uncontrolled magic like that was a huge risk. Arthur might be right behind that pile, and it was possible he would hurt him, if he wasn't hurt already. Blowing up a pile of rocks while Arthur was watching was definitely a bad idea, of course, so these rocks would have to be moved by hand. There was no other way. But even by hand it meant that he could use magic to make that task a little easier.


Arthur coughed and spluttered in an attempt to get sand out of his mouth and throat, meanwhile shaking his head to get rid of some more sand from his hair. As soon as rocks had come down behind him, he'd stumbled backwards, landing on his backside. The tunnel had looked steady and safe, and there had been no reason to suspect a sudden rock fall like this. This had to be the work of magic, of Maeveen trying to separate the two of them. Maybe she thought he would leave Merlin behind? Well, Arthur would never do that. He would never leave anyone behind, servant or not. He would do his utmost to disappoint the witch.

When the dust settled and Arthur found some more control over his breathing without having to cough every second, he grabbed his sword from the floor where it had fallen when Merlin had pushed him, and put it under his belt. Then he peered up at the large pile of rocks, most of these not looking overly large, between him and Merlin. He should be able to make a small opening in that pile somehow, maybe at the top near the ceiling? The greenish light from the tunnel illuminated the rocks as well as the walls, which was fortunate, or he would have had to crawl around in total darkness.

Arthur started crawling up the pile, carefully, making sure the rock pile didn't slither down while he made his way to the top, his head bumping against the ceiling within only moments.

"Merlin?"

He listened if there was any noise coming from the other side, but unsure of how much had actually fallen, he felt in his heart that shouting and listening wouldn't do them any good. Merlin may have been hit by these rocks, and maybe he was unconscious. Arthur felt a stone drop in his stomach thinking about it, but he quickly dismissed the feeling. There was no evidence, and all he could do was make that opening to the other side. The only thing he should be focussing on, for both their sakes.

Getting a grip on the top rocks wasn't that hard, but going too fast and pulling them all out at once could be dangerous. Arthur certainly didn't want to slide back down with the whole pile falling on top of him. He had to pull these out, one by one.

It seemed to take ages, and Arthur was sweating like a pig. Dirt was clinging to every part of him and his clothes and he was getting impatient. He had pulled out rocks, rolled them down and piled them up at the foot of this rocky hill. Giving up wasn't an option, so he kept on going.

He quickly moved his head out of the way when a couple of rocks started to fall, taking more rocks and sand with them, tumbling down right alongside his body. When he looked up, he saw, to his relief, a small opening near the ceiling, just as he thought it would. The hole wasn't big enough to crawl through himself, but maybe Merlin could? He stuck his head in it.

"Merlin?"

There was no answer, and Arthur's initial fear returned. What if Merlin was wounded and couldn't move, couldn't free himself, and he couldn't reach him? He swallowed a lump from his throat and was about to call out again when a familiar voice nearby almost made him jump out of his skin.

"Arthur!" Merlin's voice yelled in his ear from the other side. "You're all right, I'm so glad to hear your voice. I thought you might be hurt, how did you—"

"Merlin?"

"Yes?"

"Stop shouting in my ear."

"Oh."

Inwardly Arthur was thrilled that Merlin seemed to be just fine, and even a very talkative Merlin had its merits, but they weren't out of danger yet and he was the one who had to keep a clear head. He was the one responsible for them both. At least that was how Arthur felt. He needed to keep his people, and his servant safe. Merlin appeared to be fine by the sound of his voice, but he hadn't seen him yet. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask his friend how he was, but he changed his mind. No need for Merlin to know how worried he was.

"Can you push yourself through this opening I created?" he asked instead, reaching in through the hole, "I'll pull you through to this side."

"It's very narrow."

"So are you."

A loud snort reached his ears and he couldn't help but grin. "Put your arms through first, so I can grab your wrists."

Merlin was already complying before he even finished the sentence. Arthur's fingertips brushed against his servant's outstretched hand. He knew they would need both hands for this task, so he pressed his whole body as firmly as possible against the rock pile. Sharp edges of rocks were poking his ribs and abdomen, while he moved his other arm into the narrow opening.

Firm long fingers travelled up his arms, getting a tight grip around his wrists, while he mimicked the movement, grasping Merlin's slender wrists. Wrists that felt like they would break if he held on to them too hard. Arthur quickly let go of that thought.

"Are you ready?"

"As I'll ever be."

Trying to pull Merlin into and through the opening had been great in theory. Actually doing it was turning out to be more of a challenge. Arthur couldn't find a solid surface for his feet. His boots kept slipping, and rocks and sand sliding down didn't help either. Sand from the ceiling also got into his face, and he started to cough again, losing the strength to pull steadily. If he couldn't get his feet to stop dangling in mid air, he would never be able to pull with all he had. He had to pause for a moment.

"Don't tell me I'm stuck," Merlin's muffled voice groaned.

"Just, just let me find a grip for my feet."

"I... Arthur, I can't breathe, hurry up."

"Honestly, Merlin." Arthur panted, irritated about the whole situation and a whining Merlin driving him to the edge of anger. Why couldn't he just shut up for a moment, just one moment?

"Hon...estly." Merlin's breath was coming in short gasps which almost immediately made Arthur regret his thoughts. The situation suddenly turned deathly serious, making it very clear to him that if he didn't pull Merlin through this opening soon, he might suffocate.

Frustrated with himself he searched for a good hold with his feet, while pulling on Merlin's wrists again, eliciting a low moan from his friend. Damn, he was hurting him, but he couldn't stop again, he was going to do this. Holding in a deep breath of air, his feet finally found a small bolder, and he pulled.

Arthur pulled hard, all his strength and determination flowing into his arms. He groaned loudly, echoing Merlin's grunt, when finally the man's body popped out of the hole like a cork from a wine bottle. The speed surprised him, and he tried to keep his balance and failing miserably when Merlin slid down the pile, head first, pulling Arthur down with him.

They landed in a tangled mess of arms and legs at the bottom of the rock pile. Arthur felt dizzy and disorientated, even slightly nauseated while he tried to get his bearings. Something heavy was pressing down on his chest, and trying to breathe was a task all in itself.

"Merlin?" he gasped, blinking a couple of times.

"I'm all right," came the answer from very nearby. "You?"

Realising it was Merlin who had fallen on top of his chest, and who wasn't moving, he frowned up at his servant. What was he, some kind of cushion to rest on? They had broken each other's decent, but that didn't mean he was getting all touchy feely about that now. In fact, seeing with his own eyes that Merlin looked all right, he felt relieved and irritated at the same time.

"Fine," Arthur muttered, trying to push himself up on two elbows, hoping the movement would make Merlin realise he was lying on top of him.

Instead, Merlin grinned down at him. "Well, at least we're together again."

"Will you get OFF me!"

"Oh, sorry, Sire." Merlin quickly pushed himself to his feet, dusting off his jacket and neckerchief. His grin was still there, but when he turned to Arthur, who had also jumped to his feet, his face fell and there was an intense look in his eyes. One that no doubt portrayed that he was serious. "Thank you."

Arthur never really knew how to react to situations like this. Never had. He often wondered if this was just a product of his upbringing. He cared for people, a lot actually, but receiving gratitude for doing his job right, it somehow felt strange and it certainly wasn't needed. He awkwardly patted Merlin on the back though but avoided his glance. "Let's go."

"As I'm in front now," Merlin's grin was back, "I better lead us on?"

"Merlin."

"No, you're not going to push yourself in the lead this time."

"This quest is my responsibility, I'm leading."

"Nope."

"That's an order."

"Don't be such a prat."


Merlin went first this time, knowing that Arthur still wasn't happy about that, and he vowed to himself that he would lead them in the right direction. Arthur was giving him his opinion about that every other step anyway, so it wasn't really that difficult. He didn't have any inkling about day and night anymore. This tunnel felt like it was going on forever. Every time they came to the opening of a new tunnel, he turned to Arthur, confirming with the Prince if they were still going in the right direction. Arthur would give a shrug and either choose to go on, or take the turn.

The further they went, the more he started to feel it. It was a deep humming sound in his head at first, like someone singing from far away. It was a pleasant emotion that touched his heart, not the darkness he'd felt within Maeveen or even Arthur while under her spell. This almost felt like what he'd felt in the valley. Picking up the pace a bit, he smiled to himself. This had to be it.

Before him the stuffy semi-dark tunnel suddenly opened up widely into what was best described as an enormous cave, big enough to harbour an entire city. It was an amazing beautiful sight, and Merlin was struck with awe. The whole place was illuminated with the same strange, greenish light that radiated from its walls, but much brighter than it was in the tunnels. And in the centre stood two huge bronze coloured pillars as if they were holding up an imaginary roof that had disappeared ages ago.

This definitely had to be it, yes. This was the palace of Ailill, with the bronze pillars that had once stood in the valley, but was now underground, as if time had covered it up and preserved it. In this palace, this huge cave, they would find the amulet, Merlin was certain about that. He could feel the magic of the place radiate, like it pulsed with his heart and the very Earth. It gave him energy, and it made him feel alive.

Arthur let out a whistle gazing over his shoulder, bringing his thoughts back to the here and now. "Who knew this place even existed. If my father would have known, he would have had it destroyed many years ago. And rightly so."

The reign of Uther Pendragon came crushing down on him in those two sentences. The idea that magic was totally evil and had to be crushed and destroyed was so far from reality standing in this amazing place. Magic wasn't evil, the people wielding it for the wrong purpose were. One day he would make Arthur see, make him understand. Now wasn't the time.

Merlin could feel it, the humming vibrating sound, a feeling of a thousand bees fluttering right under his skin. The amulet of Ailill was calling to him from afar, like it knew he was there, like it was alive and pushing out an extreme joy to have found someone with magic. It was a little disconcerting to say the least. The valley had breathed magic, but this was so intense that Merlin couldn't help but feel all kinds of emotions rushing through him. He felt like laughing and crying all at the same time.

Without question, the amulet was showing him its exact location. Gazing around what was left of this city he knew right away which path they should follow, and without any further thought on that he walked into the cave, not waiting for Arthur to give the order.

"Merlin?"

Turning around, feeling a little dazed, he saw the Prince raise his eyebrows at him, question marks written all over his face.

"Sire?"

"You better let me show you the way, or you might stumble and fall on the way down."

Of course, Arthur, still being enchanted, would know his way to the amulet as well. Merlin chastised himself for getting careless, as this might be the most important part of the quest. And Maeveen might have something in mind for either of them. Arthur might be Arthur at this moment, but there was no telling how long that would last. He really had to wake up from this magical stupor he seemed to be falling into, and concentrate.

It wasn't easy though, as the amulet was singing his name, sending so many vibes of pleasure his way, that he had to shake his head for a moment, hitting the side of it with the palm of his hand.

"What in the world are you doing?" Arthur enquired, grabbing the hilt of his sword in a firm, confident way, while he made his way down a steep rocky path leading right into the heart of the former city. "Merlin?"

"Yes, coming..."

Making their way down wasn't easy. The path itself was cut out of rocks and smooth, but the magical pull became so strong that Merlin had to stop a couple of times to catch his breath and control his feelings. Arthur didn't seem to notice, and if he did, he didn't comment on it. The Prince probably thought he was being an emotional wrack or something.

"This way." Arthur waited a moment for him to catch up, and then he walked with firm steps towards the bronze pillars. He looked focused and alert, and Merlin hoped it would last, as he wasn't so alert himself at the moment. Not that they would be that lucky, as Maeveen would definitely try and get that amulet in any way she could. An involuntary shiver ran up his spine.

The pillar they walked past was huge, and Merlin couldn't resist touching its surface. It was warm and smooth as silk. Like it was a living entity, which was absolutely impossible, of course. Maybe it was just his magic's reaction to it?

"There..." While they rounded the pillar Arthur pointed with his sword in front of them, his mouth open in astonishment.

Merlin saw a dome shaped building, about as large as Camelot's tavern, only perfectly round. It seemed to be almost entirely made of large, deep green gems. He had never seen the likes of it ever before. He wasn't even sure that people today would be able to build such a structure. Thinking back of what the druid had told him, this sorcerer, Ailill, must have had extraordinary magical abilities. It looked absolutely stunning, as if the gems were shining by themselves and not because of the green glow from the cave.

"I think we need to go in there," Arthur whispered, which almost made him jump. It was so overwhelming, that it was hard to imagine anything dangerous would be waiting for them. All Merlin wanted to do, really, was explore everything still standing in this lost city, and soak it all in.

"Yes, I think so too." Merlin breathed in deeply a couple of times, trying to push the vibrations of the amulet singing to him from inside to the back of his mind. They needed their wits, this wasn't a time to dream.

When they walked around the building they found a large, totally round shaped, opening. There was no door, and when Arthur carefully stuck his sword into the entrance, it was clear that there was no invisible field that would keep them out either.

"I was thinking the place would be booby trapped, at least," Arthur mumbled to no one in particular, but also voicing Merlin's thoughts. "Let me go in first, and keep an eye out for any suspicious movements."

They walked in through the entrance, side by side, slowly.

There was a bright golden light circling the ceiling of the dome. It was mixed with hues of green, and it swirled around like small groups of fireflies dancing. The ceiling itself also contained the same green gems as the outside, only these were shaped in the form of figures and had dark and light green tints. Gazing up and around, Merlin could see the shape of dragons, unicorns and other magical creatures he didn't recognise. But then his gaze was drawn to the centre of the ceiling, and he recognised it instantly. A round golden amulet with a green stone imbedded in the middle.

"There, that must be what we came here for." Arthur had seen it as well, and pointed up in the air to the centre of the dome, where the pull of magic was at its highest. "But how do we get to it?"

The Amulet was suspended in mid-air, swirling around crazily in one spot. Like an invisible force field was keeping it there. Merlin could still feel the powerful magic radiating from the jewel. The vibrating and joyful feelings were subdued in the background, but it felt like his own magic was pulled to the surface much easier, which meant he had to concentrate to keep it inside, keep it hidden from Arthur. It made him feel apprehensive to say the least.

They both gazed at it for what felt like forever. They couldn't just reach out and grab it, as it was too high. At least as high as both of them together, including stretched out arms. Both of them... Merlin pondered on it for a moment.

"If I stand on your shoulders, and reach for it, I might be able to grab it."

"Are you crazy?"

"Do you have a better plan?"

"No, but..." Arthur's sentence suddenly broke off, his face became very pale while he choked and almost dropped his sword, trying hard not to fall to his knees. Sweat was rapidly appearing on his forehead, and his eyes were glazing over.

"Arthur!"

In the entrance behind them, a thick greyish fog was building up. Merlin all but pulled Arthur back from it and further into the room. The Prince let him, as if he was in a deep trance, and Merlin's touch wasn't enough to pull him out of it this time.

"No more games..." It was Maeveen's high-pitched voice, coming out of the fog.

She was standing in the entrance but not coming in, and probably wasn't able to. She started to softly chant something that Merlin didn't understand, but felt very clearly penetrating his mind. A darkness that was trying to break the good vibes of the place, of the amulet. She was definitely trying to reinforce her grip on Arthur, and by the looks of it, it was working. Holding onto Arthur's arm, Merlin could sense it clearly, almost like that night in his chambers.

The heavy fog started building up inside the dome, it was radiating from her as it floated and whirled into the room, coming closer and closer to where they were standing. Arthur was frozen on the spot, his face mangled in a grotesque mask of desperation and terror. Merlin would lose him if he didn't stop this. He felt it clearly, like a gnawing pain in his mind.

There was only one thing he could do. Staring at the fog, back at Arthur and up to the amulet, he knew he had to try. He had to grab hold of the amulet of Ailill, and make certain that it was destroyed, or all would be lost forever...


Chapter 8

Merlin tried to focus on the amulet, its power to enhance his magic. It started vibrating again, pushing away the darkness of the fog, of Maeveen's powers. He knew she would need them to bring her the amulet, but Merlin would see it destroyed before that, even though it might be more easily said than done.

"I may not be able to enter this room, but that is of no concern." Her voice sounded menacing and confident as her focus was totally on Arthur. "You will bring me the amulet, Arthur Pendragon."

Merlin's magical instinct took over at that point. He could feel it flow out of him, like an invisible wave crashing on the shore. It came to him at once, a daring plan, but worth a try. If he could create a major diversion, without Arthur noticing, there was a chance he could both grab that amulet and try and pull Arthur out of Maeveen's claws.

Stepping back so that Arthur's back was turned to him, he whispered the complicated spell. Normally it would take him a lot of practice to master a spell like the one he had in mind, but this place was such an enhancement to his powers, it instantly worked.

The air in the circular room began to swirl, as if a heavy wind was blowing in from outside, which wasn't possible of course. This wind was made from nothing but still air. The fog seemed to get thinner, but didn't quite disappear. The wind blowing it away from them was created from magic, his magic. The look of anger and slight panic on Maeveen's face was enough for Merlin to gesture into the air, willing the wind to take on the proportions of a full blown storm.

"Kill him, kill him!" Maeveen started yelling at Arthur at that point, a screeching sound that was carried on the wind, while she was constantly pushed back from the entrance she tried to enter. "Kill him, get me the amulet!"

Merlin saw Arthur turn, his sword raised, his face blank of emotion but focused, on him. He shivered as he faced Arthur's enchanted side that he'd hoped wouldn't come to the surface ever again. It almost made him lose his concentration on the magical storm.

Maeveen seemed to feel it also, and let out a victorious cackle. "You cannot win this, servant!"

Arthur's sword came down at him, and he rolled out of its way, trying to gather the strength to keep up the storm that was at least keeping the fog at bay, and also concealed all his mumbled magical spells to Arthur. There was another slash of the sword, and it nicked his left arm, drawing blood, causing him to hesitate for a moment.

But before the sword came down again, he jumped, a spell on his lips that couldn't be heard over the noise of the storm. With magical enhancement, he landed with one foot on Arthur's right shoulder, grabbing high in the air. The amulet lay heavy in his hand as he landed behind the Prince, whose movements weren't fast enough to get a hold of him. The sword was raised once more, swaying over his head while he ducked and got a tight hold of Arthur's sword arm, not intent on letting go.

The intense power of the amulet surged through Merlin's body, and the combination of the storm and all that magic had him falling to his knees, pulling Arthur's body right along with him in the process.

"NO!" Maeveen's scream was loud enough to make the walls of the dome shake and his ears pop. "You will not succeed, you will not... If you do not stop this and give me the amulet, your Prince will die!"

"Arthur..." The man's sword fell on the floor when Arthur's arms went slack, and his breathing became irregular and way too deep. His face was contorted in pain, while he doubled over and fell forward against Merlin, fog clinging to his face and body. Maeveen was killing him.

"No, stop it!" Someone was desperately screaming, when he realised in surprise that it was his own voice. He was trying to hold up Arthur, willing him to keep breathing, to live. He couldn't lose him, he just couldn't. But if he didn't give her the amulet, she would... No...

He was about to give in when he became aware of the amulet still tightly gripped in his hand, and a whisper full of joy reached his senses. Gazing down at the jewel in wonder he also became aware of its warmth. The amulet was connecting with him, with his magic, like it had done the moment he stepped into this underground world. And it whispered to him of hope and life, of everything good.

Merlin felt their magic connect. Flowing through his arms and hands, connecting both the green jewel in the amulet in one, and Arthur's arm in the other. It wasn't a visible flow, but Merlin could definitely feel the intense warmth spreading into Arthur's body.

The amulet was actually helping him to reclaim Arthur from the twilight world, although Merlin knew it wasn't enough. The druids had made it clear that the only way to free Arthur permanently was to destroy it, and he wasn't so certain now if he could.


As soon as the fog had appeared, Arthur had felt ready to face the witch. He was not going to be defeated by some enchantment while he had anything to say about it. It was a matter of principle, and backing down wasn't an option. His sword held high he'd turned around to face her.

Then the fog world around him seemed to swallow him whole. The actual world ceased to exist, and replaced by the grey fog where he was suffocating, helplessly drowning without hope. It felt like walking into a quiet, eerie darkness, where the witch was waiting. Waiting for him to do her bidding, and enjoying every moment of his suffering.

He couldn't resist, she was too strong, her grip on his mind made him want to surrender, and do everything she was asking of him. He was on a quest for her, for her alone. And all she wanted was the amulet, was for him to get it and to kill Merlin. It wasn't that hard, or was it?

He felt himself move, his sword steady in his hand. He wanted to stop and scream denial, but there wasn't anything he could do to stop his enchanted being. Not him, no, someone else wielding his sword, and slashing at his friend. It couldn't be him.

Merlin was faster than he gave him credit for, moving around with agility. Maeveen was whispering in his ear, encouragement as well as hatred radiated from those words. He slashed again, this time drawing blood and he relished it. Not much longer and this quest would come to an end.

When Merlin jumped up, he was a fraction too slow and slashed into air instead. Why in the world was he jumping up and down like that? What in the world was he doing? Couldn't he see that it was hopeless to resist him and this great sorceress?

He felt himself being pulled down with force. A steady grip on his arm almost lost him his sword while he landed on his knees on the hard ground. A heavy gust of air passed through him, and he sluggishly wondered what in the world he was doing?

But all thought left his mind when his air supply was cut off. Like the fog that surrounded him pushed in on him, and stuffed itself into his open mouth while he gasped for air. Clawing at the floor, all strength left his body and he fell, fell into the deep world of nothingness...

The first thing he noticed was a hand on his arm. Radiating warmth into his whole body, making the fog melt away from him, and Arthur felt himself drift out of it, like it had been when he had fallen into the cold river. But this time it was an intense warmth that made him crawl out and gave him much needed air. The warmth of it was turning into a blazing fire though, and he instinctively lashed out with one arm to push it away. His palm connected with something, or someone, in front of him.

A terrible wind crushed into him, like a roaring wave that covered him instantly. The sound was deafening, and he wondered why he hadn't felt or heard it before now. The witch really wanted that amulet, and now she was desperate enough to create a storm?

He staggered to his feet, grabbed his sword from the floor and confronted the fog in front of him. It was getting thicker now that the storm was quickly reduced to nothing more than a breath of wind. And the white mist was coming his way, fast.

A giant hand appeared from it, consistent of the fog it came out of, it seemed. It moved to grab Arthur's feet, but he had woken up enough to see it coming. His body was still moving rather sluggishly, but in a giant effort he jumped over it, his sword raised, while he dived and slashed at nothing but air and water. The witch's voice screamed in his ears like a howling wolf.

Where in the world was Merlin? If they didn't grab that amulet, he wasn't certain how much longer he would be able to keep her at a distance. Keep the fog away from him, from them.

"Merlin?"

There came a soft groan from nearby, but Arthur didn't dare to let his gaze wander for too long. His servant, it seemed, was somewhere on the floor to his right. Quickly taking a peek he noticed instantly the dazed look in Merlin's eyes, like he was about to pass out. Was he hurt? Had Maeveen hurt him? Had he himself hurt him? He couldn't remember.

"Arthur!" Merlin's voice was full of pain but solid determination as he threw something in the air. Something that Arthur recognised the instant it left his friend's hand. The amulet of Ailill. He followed it with his eyes, like it was slowing down for him to see, and he knew immediately what needed to be done.

The grey fog's hand grabbed at them both, and at the amulet. It touched Merlin's body with its foggy finger, and his friend let out a sharp gasp, folding in on himself as if in intense pain.

But it missed the amulet and Arthur felt a fury building up inside of him. No one had the right to hurt his servant, his friend. And the one who did would regret it. He was sick and tired of evil magic, witches and enchantments. This was going to end, right here, right now.

Totally focused on the thrown amulet, he raised his sword. He shouted angrily as he landed a heavy blow on the amulet in mid air...

Maeveen's piercing scream racked Arthur's brain, and it felt like his whole head was about to burst into several pieces. A mix of agony, but only for a moment, and liberating freedom crashed into him. It was a rush, like riding a horse at the melee at full speed. Dizziness captured his senses, but he stayed steady on his feet.

The fog hand, together with Maeveen, were pulled back into the retreating mist. Her face, a mixture of dread and hate was imbedded in Arthur's mind when finally the fog turned to a swirling grey tornado. It pulled her up, making her cloak fall back from her head, her dark blond and grey hair dancing in the wind like crazy, and it sucked her out of the entrance into the cave city.

Before Arthur could so much as follow to see what happened, another loud and desperate wail reached his ears, and the dome around them began rising upwards, already several inches from the ground. He'd never seen a real tornado in his life, but he'd read books about them. They were rare and dangerous. And this one was the product of magic, that much was certain.

He dashed back to the centre of the dome, kneeling beside Merlin, who didn't react to what was happening around them. He protectively bent his body over that of his friend, and when the roaring sound of the tornado seemed to explode high above them, he closed his eyes and deeply wished for their survival now that the amulet was destroyed.

It felt like forever, the dreadful noise, the storm and Maeveen's screams of hatred and anguish. Arthur didn't dare look up, desperately trying to hold on to something while there was nothing. To shield them both from further harm, with nothing. They had come this far, they had outwitted a powerful witch. His father would be proud.


The storm had eased, the screams had died and Merlin let out a soft groan beneath him, making Arthur aware of the silence that had fallen over them. When he finally dared to open his eyes, taking in his surroundings, he let out a gasp in surprise. What he saw wasn't possible, and although he'd seen a lot of unexplainable things the last couple of days, this certainly topped it all.

The dome, the cave and everything in it were gone. He was back in the fern secluded valley once more, the sun just coming up, illuminating the place with a radiant glow. It felt warm, inviting, just like it had done the first time. Merlin had asked him if he could feel it, could feel life. Arthur had to admit to himself, this was the closest he'd ever come to being one with his surroundings. It filled his heart with a certain joy and excitement. He wondered if this was what Merlin had felt.

He shielded his eyes for a moment, looking down at his idiot servant. A man he considered to be more than a servant, actually. He was his friend. Someone who would travel to the ends of the Earth with him, and sometimes, but just sometimes, he wondered why Merlin was so loyal to him all the time. It wasn't as if he deserved that much loyalty. And after what he'd done, even without it being his fault, the man didn't back down. He knew he should give Merlin credit for this, but he also knew that he couldn't. The young man was way too overconfident as it was, no need to rub his ego.

Thinking about the man in question made his heart skip a beat in fear. Merlin had been hurt, what if he was severely injured and Arthur hadn't noticed it? The fog hand had touched him after all and something could be seriously wrong.

"Merlin?" He anxiously touched the man's shoulder, holding his breath.

To his relief Merlin muttered something, turned around on his side and Arthur could hear a soft snoring sound. Merlin was asleep, sound asleep it seemed. What the... They went through hell and back and Merlin fell asleep? How could anyone fall asleep during a tornado?

As far as Arthur could see there was no injury of any kind, which made him frown. He could have sworn that Merlin had been hurt, lying there in the dome on the floor, throwing him the amulet. But how had he gotten his hands on that amulet in the first place? Arthur couldn't remember. It had been the same when he'd woken up in the river, there seemed to be a huge piece missing.

The feeling of excitement slowly left his body, and he started to feel drowsy. The sun warming him made his cheeks glow, and his eyes heavy. Taking a nap here in this valley seemed like a very good idea all of a sudden. Arthur yawned and stretched, not quite willing to close his eyes. This was still an unknown place, and anything could happen. It was his responsibility to see them home safely. It was his solemn duty and he would not forsake. Maybe lowering himself down onto his back for a moment would relieve the sleepiness?

Arthur gazed up at the morning sky, his eyes focused on a funny shaped cloud. That cloud looked a lot like a horse, he decided, and with a shrug he wondered why he was so interested in the shape of a cloud. It wasn't important, getting them home was. What was he, some kid whose playful mind was easily distracted? He was the crown Prince of Camelot, for heaven's sake.

Slowly his eyelids drooped. It was so peaceful and warm here. The last days had been such a strain that he couldn't blame Merlin for falling asleep instantly. He wasn't used to the sort of fighting that Arthur was. Always moving with stealth, always ready for danger. No, he wouldn't blame his goofy servant, but that didn't mean he wouldn't let him forget this. All in good fun of course.

A soft voice came drifting to him on the warm wind. It was a man's voice, full of compassion and care. It whispered to him about having made the right choice, of him being a great hope for the future, and it startled Arthur a little that he didn't instantly feel the need to jump up and question what was happening. Maybe he was already asleep and this was a dream? It felt like a comfortable one, unlike what Maeveen had done to him. This voice sounded fair and just.

"Who are you?" he heard himself whisper inside his head.

"A long time ago, the druids called me the great sorcerer Ailill. I am the life in this valley, a place that I once called home. Sleep deeply, Arthur Pendragon, and let the wind carry you and your friend home."

"He's my servant."

"If you say so..."

Now, when did the voice begin to resemble Merlin's so perfectly? And was he, a true Pendragon, actually conversing with a sorcerer in a dream? Arthur wanted to object, wanted to tell this man that he dealt with magic in his own way, that he wasn't going to listen to anything said to him from inside his head. Never again. But all he could feel was warmth, intense, enveloping him like a light breeze.

All he had to do was let go and let it happen. He could already feel himself drift away.


Merlin felt slightly annoyed when sounds penetrated his sleepy brain. Why couldn't they let him sleep, just for once? It wasn't that much to ask now, was it? But no, he was the one who had to get up at dawn, grab a hasty breakfast and be fully awake by the time he reached Arthur's chambers.

He stubbornly decided to keep his eyes closed and pretend that he was still asleep, but an insistent voice was nagging at the edge of his mind. It was a voice full of humour, and it reminded Merlin of something while he tried to keep his breathing slow and steady. He also kept his body totally still, while he started to concentrate on the whispers of his name. It felt a little like the druids, talking to him inside his head. Only these were not only words, it was a vibration of magic. This voice had the same intensity and tone as when the amulet of Ailill had started to sing his name, full of hope and joy.

"Merlin," it softly whispered, like the wind. "Merlin, wake up, you're home, young Warlock."

"I'm awake," he whispered back, the feeling of annoyance had totally left his body and there was only peace and relaxation. "You are Ailill." He didn't know why he knew, he just did.

"Yes. You need to wake up. You and Arthur Pendragon are both safe."

"Merlin!"

"Wha, what?" Merlin jumped out of his skin by the familiar cranky voice near his left ear. Opening his eyes, trying to get his bearings, he stared up into Arthur's stormy blue eyes. It made him crawl up on his elbows in haste, his eyes not leaving Arthur, who was standing there with his hands folded over his chest, a scowl on his face. "Sire..."

"We're in Camelot."

"Uh, so?"

"How did we get back to Camelot?" Arthur pulled him up roughly by the hem of his jacket, and Merlin realised he had been sleeping in a haystack in a building that was very similar to the stables of the citadel. Looking around more carefully, rubbing the sleep from his eyes he frowned in confusion. These were Arthur's stables, to be precise, but how did they gotten here?

Events of the past days came rushing back to him, and he had to steady himself for a moment against a large wooden beam nearby. He'd grabbed the amulet, and he had thrown it to Arthur. He also vividly remembered that large fog hand, the fingers touching him and it had felt like a cold clammy hand had settled around his heart. Then, nothing.

Arthur must have destroyed the amulet, or they wouldn't have been standing here. Alive and well. Merlin wondered if he'd been out of it this long that he couldn't even remember their return journey? No, that was weird, as he would have woken up in his bed for sure, not in an itchy haystack with sounds of the busy market place in the lower town reaching his ears. Had the Prince also woken up in the same haystack? Was he back to normal? It certainly looked like he was, apparent from the annoyed glances he was giving him.

"I can't explain it, Sire." Merlin tried moving around, feeling a little unsteady on his feet, but he felt that there was nothing wrong with him otherwise. No painful bruise from where Arthur had hit him on the chin, no blood on his arm from where Arthur's sword had grazed it. And no problems breathing, either. He didn't even feel tired anymore. It was strange, to say the least.

A slight breeze touched his cheeks, and a whisper of joy reminded him of the amulet again. But also of the man who had made the object and had been willing to part with it, forever. Ailill. It was Ailill who had sent them back, somehow. Was it even possible to have so much power after death? Merlin sometimes had the overwhelming feeling that he didn't know half there was to know about magic. But he also made a vow to himself that he would try and find out as much as possible.

"You can certainly give it a try." Arthur lifted his brows, and raised a finger as if it was he, Merlin, who was to blame for everything that had happened to them.

"I..."

"Go on then."

"I fell asleep." Merlin sucked in an enormous breath of air. "Did you fall asleep as well? I guess you did, right? Well, I thought about it and it was Ailill, he did this, he spoke to me, didn't you hear him?"

"I don't make a habit of listening to sorcerers' voices, Merlin."

Merlin suggestively raised his brow, not wanting to drop the subject of Arthur actually having listened to a dangerous witch before. That hadn't been his fault after all, and it wasn't nice to rub it in, even though it was on the tip of his tongue. "But he must have sent us back home."

"Not possible."

"But you did hear him?"

"Maybe." Arthur shrugged. "But a dead sorcerer did not just send us back to Camelot."

"Oh, so you have a better explanation?"

"We travelled back to Camelot on our own after destroying a dangerous magical item and a maniacal witch. Father will be proud."

"But..."

Arthur took a step towards him, and while the Prince was trying for a stern look, wiggling a warning finger in front of Merlin's face, he could see that Arthur had a relaxed and amused look in his eyes. "You will not speak about the enchantment, Merlin, or..."

"Or what?" Merlin put his hands to his side, raising his head in defiance.

"It's been a while since people threw rotten fruit at you, right?" Arthur said in triumph, a grin now spreading on his face while he slapped Merlin on the back, hard enough to make him gasp.

Not waiting for an answer, Arthur walked away from him, heading for the stable doors. The smells of the market place were penetrating Merlin's senses and he couldn't help but smile at that while he followed the Prince. It was good to be home, no matter how they got here. He would look into these things later, and maybe Gaius knew the answer to Merlin's many questions about Ailill. Gaius always knew these sort of things.

Gaius must have been really worried about them. He wondered if they had been searching for Arthur and him. He didn't exactly know how long it had taken them to come back to Camelot. Merlin guessed he would find out soon enough when they walked into the open air, the sun shining brightly.

"But, Merlin?" Arthur suddenly turned around, his face solemn.

"Yes?"

"It was good to have you by my side."

"It was?"

"No, you idiot." Arthur let out a scowl, and walked away from him, leaving him standing there with a huge dopey grin on his face. Some things would never change, and Merlin didn't want it any other way...

The End