Merlin: Special Story

The Curse of the Fallen Kings

Chapter 1: Where the story starts…

The night was dark – perhaps the darkest in months. The normally glowing midnight skies were now concealed by the misty black clouds that suffocated the twinkling stars. The full moon drifted aimlessly across yet, the light that normally illuminated the forest canopy never reached the leaves.

It was a silent night, save for the occasional fearful hoot that resounded from the wide-eyed owl, hiding deep inside the tree trunk. The entire forest swayed eerily as if it were in a silent trance. Truly, it was a silent night.

And it would have remained that way, if it weren't for the steady clip-clop of several nervous horses treading through the muddy forest floor. Arthur Pendragon sat on his pale white horse as he led the Knights of the Round Table, his pathetic excuse for a manservant, and his beloved Queen to no particular destination.

It was earlier this morning when Arthur and Gwen decided to go for a picnic - a nice romantic break just for themselves. Obviously, Merlin was counted in (Arthur sure as hell wasn't going to carry all of the baskets). The word spread, however, and (thanks to a certain manservant that Arthur was definitely going to throw in the stocks as soon as they return) the knights invited themselves over, and before they knew it, all eight members rode out of Camelot.

And if it weren't for Gwaine, they would be back in Camelot, sleeping snugly in their warm beds by now instead of wandering in the woods in the cold and the dark. Arthur sighed exasperated.

"Seriously, Gwaine! Where is this 'perfect location for a picnic'?" Percival asked, a tinge of annoyance reflecting in his voice. And it took a lot to annoy the mostly-reasonable Knight.

"It was somewhere here, I'm sure…" Gwaine muttered to himself.

Merlin looked at the rogue Knight angrily. "Forget 'perfect location for a picnic', Gwaine. Do you know what a 'perfect time for a picnic is'?! Definitely not at midnight!" The knights had it easy: they didn't have to deal with the fuming King, who looked ready to burst any second.

Gwaine smiled good naturedly at Merlin. "Sorry, mate. Normally, I would remember that location, but I think I was drunk when I last went there…" He scratched his head sheepishly. When he was greeted by angry glares, Gwaine (quite sensibly, for the first time) decided to change the subject. "How about we set up camp for the night?"

Lancelot looked at the group, nodding. "I don't think we're too far away from the Valley of the Fallen Kings –"

"NO!" three voices shrieked in perfect sync.

The knights turned, stunned at the reactions they received from the King, his manservant and the Queen. At Lancelot's baffled expression, Merlin quickly covered it up. "Nothing good ever comes from the Valley of the Fallen Kings." Merlin nodded determinedly. And yet, Lancelot observed, his eyes had widened comically as they darted around the surroundings.

Lancelot shook his head. "That's not true," he started. "Remember the time when the Dorocha attacked. I was taking you through the Valley of the Fallen Kings. The vilia there had healed you."

"That was one time," Merlin argued. "But I have a thousand more times where more bad happened than good in that valley. Believe me when I say it. That land was definitely cursed."

Percival narrowed his eyes. Was? He thought to himself. Merlin said that the land was cursed…

"Enough," Arthur said, with a hint of finality in his voice. "Although Merlin here is, quite possibly, the greatest coward in all five Kingdoms, I agree with him." Gwen glanced at the King disapprovingly. "We'll set camp elsewhere."

Arthur pulled on the reigns, gently coaxing his steed in the opposite direction. The knights followed, unwilling to disobey their King. But still, the reaction they received from the trio… Leon stared at the King riding ahead of him. Arthur sat stiffly on his horse, flinching at every sound that disrupted the rhythm of the horses. And Merlin behind him was no different. The mere fact that he hadn't retorted to the half-hearted insult aimed towards him was more than enough proof.

They definitely needed to talk about what happened the last time the King and his manservant ended up in the Valley.

The horses trudged down the dark path. Their preoccupied masters sat atop the weary mounts, lost in thought.

So, when five pale fingers curled around a black tree branch, no one noticed. There was a small glint in the darkness as two pairs of bright green eyes followed the group out of its line of sight. The gray fingers uncurled, abandoning its death grip on the branch to shadow the oblivious assemblage.


Leon leaned back against the tree as he watched the rest of the group settle in. Yet, despite the relaxed air amongst the Knights, Leon couldn't help but note the nervous air around Merlin, Arthur and Gwen. Unfortunately, Gwaine seemed to notice it too.

Merlin had just returned from gathering the dry wood for the fire when Gwaine decided to sneak up on the servant. It was just a slight push from the back and a whispered name that prompted Merlin to leap ten feet into the air, squeaking in obvious fear as soon as he landed. The knights burst out laughing as Merlin glared at Gwaine indignantly.

"What the hell was that for?" He asked, his voice shaking (whether from fear or anger, no one could tell).

"Relax, mate," Gwaine said, lifting his hands to placate the raging warlock. Merlin just huffed in frustration and moved to the nearest tree, settling down at the base.

Lancelot attempted to smile towards the warlock, but the concern he felt for Merlin was evident in his eyes. "Everything alright, Merlin?"

Merlin nodded slowly in confirmation, even as he muttered to himself. "I just think we're too close to the valley for my liking." Interestingly, both Arthur and Gwen nodded, agreeing with the servant.

Leon leaned forward. "What happened in the valley?" When the three turned to look amongst themselves, Leon continued. "I understand if you are uncomfortable with sharing…"

"No, no. It's fine, Leon," Arthur said. "It was bound to come out soon. Besides it was all Merlin's fault."

"What was?" Elyan asked. He was still surprised that his sister seemingly kept a secret from him.

"How is it my fault? You're the prat that decided to slash open the locked chambers," Merlin argued, completely ignoring Elyan's question.

"Right. And who was the idiot that found the chambers?"

"And who's the dollophead who decided (just to torture his manservant) to go on a hunting trip in the middle of a storm?"

"I didn't know there was going to be a storm!"

"Right."

"Boys!" Gwen interrupted the duo. She turned towards the confused knights. "It's a really long story. But it starts in the Valley of the Fallen Kings."

The fire cackled in the center of the camp as all the knights leaned in, eager to learn about what it was in the Valley of the Fallen Kings that created such a large amount of fear in Camelot's strongest. Hell, this was the trio that faced a dragon and other undefeatable magical creatures. And they were now trembling in fear at the mere mention of the Valley.

Gwen took a deep breath in before she continued. "The Valley of the Fallen Kings is feared and avoided by many for a reason. Centuries ago, five Kings of the five largest kingdoms met together in the Valley in an effort to create peace amongst the kingdoms. Days passed and soon the days turned to months. Still the kings never returned. Of course, tales began to spur out from there – there was a great battle that resulted in the kings' death, the Kings were murdered by magical creatures… on and on.

There was one thing that was certain: it was in this valley that the kings fell. And the valley was said to be cursed, haunted by the five kings. The only question that remained unanswered was how."

Gwen looked around the group and smiled as the members shuddered.

"Our story starts around two years ago and, unfortunately, with another poorly timed hunting trip with Merlin and Arthur…

A/N: Well, that's the beginning. I tried my hand at humor and horror. They should really have other genres call 'attempted humor' and 'attempted horror'. I think my story fits those better. :D

This narration takes place after season 4 where Lancelot doesn't die. I don't know if it's going to be after my series story or just an AU of the original tv show. The story that Gwen narrates takes place between season 3 and season 4, where Morgause is too weak for any attack plans, and Morgana is still attacking (but at a less than frequent rate). Uther is mentally instable, so Arthur is pretty much the King.

Well, tell me what you think about it! I really don't know where to take this story, so we'll see where it goes.

Also, I know I usually have really long author's notes, but for this story I'm going to try limiting myself to the only two lines – no long boring writer's opinions unless absolutely necessary. So max of 15 words for a/n! :D

As always, don't forget to review!

Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.