Author's note
This story comprises of nine chapters and an epilogue. Updates will be weekly.

The story's been written primarily for the pleasure of exploring the ideas, and, of course, it won't appeal to all readers (a lot of it is paced quite slowly, for example, and the characters don't always behave and speak as the TV series might suggest). This is the longest piece of fiction I've written, and the second in- well, a very long time, so please forgive the inadequacies you find.

I owe enormous thanks to wryter501, both for reading this and giving me feedback, and for being a sounding board to bounce ideas off. Thank you!

And now, sit down, and welcome to the home by the sea.

Chapter One: Eldward's Tale
'I don't even know why we're going on this stupid quest,' Merlin grumbled as he tightened the straps of Arthur's saddle. 'Surely, as king, you have better things to do than go chasing after some supposed treasure which probably doesn't even exist.'

'Only you, Merlin, could both acknowledge my kingship and be thoroughly insubordinate at the same time,' came Arthur's reply from the other side of the horse.

'You'd be surprised,' Merlin muttered as he checked the saddle bags.

'What was that?'

'I said cook was all out of pies, so I haven't packed any. Will that be a problem?'

'No- no, that's fine,' came the slightly hesitant reply. Arthur had a sneaking suspicion that he had just been insulted.

'And of course, as if it wasn't enough that we're off on a wild-goose chase, the story his majesty has picked up on has it that this pile of gold awaits in a cliff-face somewhere. Even if it did exist-'

'It does!'

'-which it doesn't, how would we get it out?'

'If people can get treasure into a hole in a cliff, they can get it out as well.'

'If that was the case, then there'd be little point in our going to look for it.'

'What?'

'If these miraculous people who fly about putting treasure in cliffs could take treasure out of cliffs, they probably would have done it, wouldn't they? There's not much point in just leaving treasure somewhere. The whole point of treasure is that it's valuable when you can get to it, not when you can't.'

'Shut up, Merlin.'

Merlin grinned to himself as he watched his king head across the courtyard to speak with a council member. He was partly complaining out of habit. It would be good for all of them to get out of the castle. Arthur did have other things to do. The trouble was that he had had other things to do for months on end now, and it was beginning to manifest itself in occasional bouts of considerable grumpiness. How Gwen put up with it, he couldn't imagine. Hopefully this little jaunt would resolve the matter.

Little did Merlin know that Gwen didn't put up with it. She didn't have to. Arthur just took out most of his ill temper on Merlin.

The origins of this particular adventure lay in a rather unexpected occurrence one month earlier: Arthur had taken a hitherto unknown interest in the library. He had previously appeared to take after his father, who had recognized the importance of knowledge in a general way but only took an interest in it if it furthered Camelot's position, preferring therefore to leave the library to Geoffrey of Monmouth as court librarian and historian, and a handful of others. On those rare occasions when he had required something from it, Geoffrey had supplied it.

Geoffrey knew, however, just how deceptive appearances can be, recalling as he did a winter's day long ago when a certain little blond-haired, blue-eyed boy had peered around the corner of the doorway with wide eyes to stare at the rows and rows of shelves.

Catching sight of some movement in the corner of his eye, Geoffrey had put down his quill and turned to face the newcomer.

'Why, who're you?' he asked, smiling.

'Ar- Arfur,' said the little boy shyly as he inched forward, then self-consciously scratched his left calf with his right foot.

'That's a good name,' said Geoffrey gravely. 'That's the name of our prince, you know.'

The little boy giggled and nodded.

'And what brings you here, Arthur?'

Big blue eyes looked up at him. Arthur swallowed, and then it came out in a tumble of words.

'Please, Mr Geoffrey, Ellie the maid says that you've got books and books of stories here. She sometimes tells me stories.'

'And you would like to hear some more?'

The little boy nodded enthusiastically.

Geoffrey hummed, as if thinking it over.

'Well,' he said slowly, 'since you have the same name as our prince… Come here, then, and let's see what we can find.'

And so they had gone hand in hand among the shelves to find Arthur stories about dragons and princes and princesses and great heroes. The little prince had been absolutely thrilled, and would sneak off to visit Geoffrey in the library whenever he could for some years. Geoffrey never spoke of this to anyone. Uther would not have approved of their literary excursions. He was fairly sure that Arthur knew that, too. It was their secret to share, and no one else's.

The prince's visits grew increasingly rare in later years as he found himself with more duties, and in any event, he had an uncomfortable feeling that he was meant to be beyond this kind of thing. Once a certain annoying manservant joined his household, he was even more careful to make sure that he kept his very few trips to the library to himself.

On this particular day, then, Arthur had required something from the library - the treaty drawn up with Mercia, there being talk of renegotiating it - but Geoffrey had been ill and Merlin had been on some errand or other that Gaius had allegedly sent him on. Arthur was fairly sure that 'on an errand for Gaius' was code for 'getting blind drunk in the tavern', but - somewhat uncharacteristically - he had left it at that and ventured into the library himself.

When Merlin had gone looking for him five hours later and had scoured the whole of the castle in vain, he had been so astonished by the news that his majesty had last been seen heading for the library that he had initially refused to believe the young serving boy who had told him.

'To the library?'

'Yes, sir.'

'Don't call me 'sir'. Do you actually know what a library is, Albert?'

'Yes, s- yes.'

'What is a library?'

'It's where all the books are.'

'And you're telling me that the king - that's King Arthur, ruler of Camelot, not some visiting dignitary - has gone there?'

The poor boy nodded miserably. He had not asked for this. He considered himself lucky to have the position - a very lowly one - in the castle at all. His family barely got by as it was, and he lived in daily terror of being found wanting, in case their meagre income should drop still further.

Merlin sighed. 'Alright, Albert. I believe you. Run along.'

The boy disappeared and Merlin resigned himself to the fact that he was, after all, going to have to look in the library. When he walked through the door, he saw no sign of anyone.

'Of course not. The very idea was ridiculous,' he thought to himself, but at a loss to know where else his master might be, and not unhappy at the prospect of having some time to himself in what Geoffrey otherwise treated as the most sacred of spaces into which no manservant should dare set foot, he ventured further onto that hallowed ground. Imagine his surprise, then, when he turned a corner and found Arthur sitting at a table, surrounded by books, fully absorbed and oblivious to his surroundings. Imagine how much greater that surprise was when Merlin leaned over his shoulder and found that he was reading a collection of myths. The king was reading stories.

Merlin coughed loudly, and Arthur shot up with a guilty expression on his face, almost banging his head on his manservant's chin.

'Merlin! Why are you creeping up behind me? Where have you been, anyway?'

'I was running errands for Gaius. What are you reading?'

'I'm- what business is it of yours?'

'None, my lord. None at all.'

'That's right.'

'I just thought that if I knew what you liked, I could perhaps find some more of it for you.'

Arthur's expression slowly changed as he thought this through. If he confessed to wanting to read stories - worse, told him about his secret past - then Merlin would never let him live it down. However, Merlin probably knew the library better than him now, and might be able to find more of these wonderfully enticing books. Then, the last piece of the puzzle fell into place: Merlin had been looking over his shoulder. He already knew what the king had been reading, so if he didn't confess, then he would get the taunts and no additional books.

'They're books of myths, Merlin. They're amazing! This one's about the quests of a man they called Bruta's archer. He's just escaped from an underground maze. Have you read any of this stuff?'

Merlin grinned. 'Some of it, yes. I don't get as much time as I would like to for that kind of thing' - he coughed meaningfully - 'but there are some truly remarkable works down here.'

'You could find me more?'

'Certainly, so long as Geoffrey isn't available. He doesn't like me coming in here. He says I mess things up.'

'How do you know where to find things if Geoffrey doesn't let you come in here?'

'Just because he doesn't want me in here doesn't mean I don't come in here.'

So began a regular routine, in which king and manservant would spend an hour or two in the library, whenever the king's schedule permitted it. Merlin would find Arthur more books, and Arthur would devour them. Merlin made solemn promises that he would not tell anyone what Arthur was reading. He only told Gwaine, who only told everyone else.

Somewhat to Arthur's surprise, Merlin's teasing over Arthur's newfound interest was minimal. The truth was that Merlin was pleased for him, though he certainly was not going to tell him that.
Then, one morning, Arthur had come into Gaius' chambers where he found the old man and his protégé working and placed a book on the table in front of them.

'Gaius, this book that Merlin found me in the library the other day - it's not like the others. I thought at first that it was a book of myths, but it seems to be history. The strange thing is that I'm pretty sure that not all of it's right. There's some stuff in here about the days of my grandfather, and I'm certain that my father told some of it differently.'

Gaius adjusted his glasses and inspected the book. 'Ah, Eldward. Yes. I'm afraid he was notoriously unreliable, sire. He wrote history, but when he didn't know something, or didn't like what he did know, he simply made up new facts.'

'So you're saying that some of this is true, and some of it isn't?'

'Indeed, sire. It makes for entertaining reading, but it isn't very helpful to the true scholar.'

'How do you determine which bits are true?'

'I don't think you really can, except by comparing it with other works. Why do you ask?'

'Well, some of what this Eldward has written is fascinating. I was wondering what to make of it. Look at this passage.' He opened up the book, and passed it over to Gaius, who read it out, squinting to make out the words on the marked page.

'In the twelfth year since Dunwallo's ascension, there grew in him a curiosity to know the length and breadth of his kingdom, its mountains and valleys, rivers, lakes, islands and all the bounteous wonder therein. And there came to him one by name of Alder, from whom he heard tell of a cavern of wondrous proportion. For its opening lay high in the cliffs of Merethor, yet its inner length reached to realms unknown, opening even unto the silent lands beyond this earth. Overcome with awe, Dunwallo sent forth Eorlric and Hanfell that they should find the whereabouts of the cavern, and bring back news of whether it truly extended beyond the earth. Eorlric alone returned, and would speak only these words:

In high cliff-face, above the firth,
Shadow doth meet the careless soul;
Passage there beyond the earth
Doth not await, and there a toll
Is laid upon each man of worth.

Yet gloom conceals the greatest treasure
And there one day he who is bold
Shall find bounty for life, beyond all measure,
And in the darkness, shining gold.

'This is fairly typical fare, sire. Eldward's accounts are full of these kinds of tales.'

'But is it true?'

'Well, it seems exceedingly unlikely that Eldward would have known this kind of detail about what happened in Dunwallo's day, although it's unusual for him to quote any kind of verse at all, so I suppose it's possible that it was handed down to him by others - but even that doesn't mean that it's true.'

Arthur fell silent for a moment. Merlin looked at Gaius, who shrugged.

'Well, thank you, Gaius. I'd better be getting back to looking at this treaty. Merlin, don't forget that I am expecting you at mid-day.' With that, Arthur picked up Eldward's account and swept out of the chambers.

Two days later, he informed Merlin that he should prepare for a two-week journey to the Seas of Meredor.

And so it was that on a cold, grey spring morning, the king's manservant found himself in the courtyard of the castle next to a small contingent of guardsmen, checking over Arthur's horse one last time and making sure that he had packed everything.

'All done!' he said cheerfully to no one in particular.

At that moment, Elyan, Gwaine and Percival walked around the corner leading their horses. Gwaine sauntered over to Merlin.

'Another hare-brained expedition with Camelot's finest,' he muttered to the younger man with a wink. Turning to look at Arthur as he approached from the far side of the courtyard, he continued, 'Best thing about working for this king: you're never short of opportunities to do ridiculous things.'

'You'd be off trying to find trouble of your own if it was any different,' Merlin replied dryly.

'You know me too well,' laughed the knight.

'If you two ladies are quite done chatting, I think we're ready to leave,' said Arthur.

Merlin turned in his saddle as they rode slowly up the path out of the valley. In the distance, the towers of Camelot rose out of a sea of dark greens and greys. The sight of the forest surrounding the castle usually lifted his heart, for where the Forest of Ascetir was dark and heavy, Camelot's was home to oaks, beeches and hornbeams, and full of shifting patterns of light. But a mist now drifted between the trees, and the castle was partially shrouded, white stonework muted to grey. He shivered, and urged his horse on after the last of the men who had already disappeared over the lip of the valley.

Riding up the line, he was soon side by side with the king. They had long ago abandoned any pretence that Merlin would show deference by keeping behind him. Even if he had, no one would have believed that it was down to deference - it would simply have been assumed that one of them was in a mood.

Merlin eyed the king, trying to work out how to ask what was on his mind.

'Arthur, do you think it's sensible to look for this cave?'

The king sighed. 'In case you hadn't noticed, Merlin, fifteen of us have just set out with provisions for a two week journey. I have spent several days making extensive preparations to ensure that Camelot is well looked after during our absence. Gwen and the council have been fully briefed. The army is in excellent shape. Leon has remained because he's an able commander and tactician. We have brought birds with us to allow us to communicate with anyone we need to. The effort involved in getting this far has not been insubstantial. Whatever you are trying to ask, I have committed to this expedition and you should have asked it before.'

'You don't need any more gold.'

'Merlin, you know that last year's harvest-'

'Was poor, yes, and you did the right thing in not requiring as much in tax from the farmers, but we've got enough to keep us going until the next harvest, so-'

'Sorry, who put you in charge of the treasury?'

'Arthur, you're the one who told me only last week that we had enough.'

Arthur paused.

'You know what?' he snapped. 'You're right. And it doesn't matter. We're going anyway, because I'm sick and tired of being cooped up in that wretched castle.'

'You could just have gone on a hunt.'

'You have no sense of adventure, do you, Merlin?'

'I don't mind adventures. It's bandits and near-death that I mind.'

'Oh, pull yourself together. We're not turning back.'

They rode on in silence for almost a full minute and a half, before Merlin tried again.
'But we have almost no information at all about where this cave is. How are we going to find it?'

'I know the lands around the Seas of Meredor. They're largely flat, except in one place: at the castle of Fyrien. I know that the cavern can't be in the cliff-face beneath the castle itself; my father scouted that area extensively in his battle against Caerleon and kept maps of all that he found. I've studied them, and there's nothing there beyond the tunnels we've already been in. But I know that he went no further than the peninsula the castle was built upon. The hilly country around it wasn't strategically important - but where it backs on to the Sea, it forms great cliffs that follow the shoreline for a few miles. If the cavern is anywhere, it has to be there.'
'But the verse said that the opening is high in the cliff-face. How are we going to find it?'

'Bruta's men can't have spent all their time climbing up and down the cliffs. It would have been too dangerous, given the winds, and it would have taken too long. It must be possible to see the mouth of the cave from the ground. We'll have to wait for the tide to go out in some places, but even you can probably manage that.'

'Alright, but...'

'Do you know any words besides "but"?'

'Let's just set aside the fact that you're the king,' said Merlin, ignoring the king's complaint, 'with all that that means, and that we're probably wasting our time because from what Gaius said, Eldward was an accomplished liar, or at least a dubious source, and that if the cave is as easily found as you suggest, someone probably lifted the treasure years ago - don't you think that even if the cave does exist, Eorlric's words might have been a warning?'

'A warning to cowards, Merlin. You would do well to bear that in mind. He says that the bold shall find treasure. Besides, what's the worst that can happen? He just says that it's dark in the cave.'

'He says that a toll is laid upon each man of worth.'

'Then there's nothing for you to be scared of, is there.'

'Arthur, can you just take this seriously for a minute?'

Arthur looked at his manservant, and, reading concern in his eyes, he softened.

'Look, you're the king. I don't want anything to happen to you. I'm not worried for myself. You are a man of worth, Arthur. I'm worried for you.'

'I know, Merlin,' the king replied gently, 'and I'm not ungrateful. I have thought about Eorlric's words. But I'm sure we'll be fine. We've come through everything else, haven't we? And the best knights in the five kingdoms are coming with us. If we can't succeed, who can?'
'I just- I don't know, I have a-'

'Go on, say it, Merlin!' Gwaine, who, unbeknownst to the two men, had quietly ridden up behind them and had been listening in, was suddenly by their side. Merlin looked confused.

'Say what?'

'Ignore him, Merlin,' instructed the king.

'No, don't ignore him, Merlin,' the knight said with a roguish smile and the beginnings of a laugh on his lips. 'What were you going to say?'

'I was going to say- well, I was going to say that I have a funny feeling-'

Gwaine burst out laughing and waved his hand in Arthur's face. 'Told you! I told you it'd be just after we left the valley. You, my lord, owe me five gold pieces!'

Arthur looked distinctly annoyed. 'Honestly, Merlin, how is it that you can spend the best part of ten years with me, and on the one occasion when it actually matters when you announce your funny feeling, you don't do it when you normally would?'

Merlin looked even more confused.

'I'm afraid we had a little bet at your expense,' Gwaine confided, still laughing. 'His majesty and two other knights owe me a nice little sum of money.'

Merlin scowled and dropped behind Arthur, who had the grace to look slightly embarrassed.

That night, after they had set up camp, eaten and Merlin had done the washing up - not entirely without complaint about others profiting from his labours - the company lay around the fire. Sitting on his own, Arthur watched them. The creation of the Round Table was changing Camelot. Although the king had proclaimed parity between the knights and himself, that sense of togetherness had spread far beyond the throne room: there sat Elyan, talking with Haldred, Erbin and Eudaf; there sat Gwaine, roaring with laughter over some story that Geraint, tears rolling down his cheeks as he barely managed to get the words out between gasps, was telling him; and if the other soldiers sat in little groups of their own, it was not because of any divide between them and the knights.

In his father's day, nobility was lorded over the peasantry, and the customs of the court required strict separation. Now, word was that throughout the kingdom there was a sense of a new beginning, and a greater respect and care for each other than Arthur could have hoped for. For all the doubts that Arthur sometimes felt about his kingship, he felt no doubts about the Round Table.

As his gaze wandered around the company, it finally landed on Percival and Merlin. The two men were lying on their backs, looking up at the sky, and Percival was pointing at something. Arthur's eyes followed the direction of theirs.

Spring had been slow in coming to Camelot, and the mists of that morning had accompanied them all day, finding their counterpart in the dull flint of an overcast sky; so when the sun had set, a complete darkness had descended, unbroken except by the light of the fire. Now, however, a miracle was occurring above them: a great clearing had been rent in the heavens, and where earlier the world had felt small and enclosed, Arthur could now see far, far out of his world and into a strange place of both darkest darkness and brightest light.

The moon was waxing gibbous and shone down brightly on them, a brilliant, pure light unlike any on earth. The stars, too, were brighter than usual as the Plough swung above them, furrowing the sky. On either side of the celestial clearing, the clouds marched silently past at great pace, and as the moonlight caught their edges, their bodies turned dark underneath and they became ghostly apparitions heading relentlessly out, as if to some great battle. He shivered. It was very wonderful, but very otherworldly.

It was said that the ancients saw in the night sky a realm very different from the one that they lived in: that it was the home of perfection, where no wrong was done and where nature itself behaved differently, as the spheres of the planets and the stars trod their stately paths, never veering from them, while on earth all nature was unpredictable, and men fickle and prone to ill deeds. Some of the books Arthur had stumbled across had hinted at a King who ruled that realm, and whose love for his creation gave it life and motion. Arthur had not understood much of this, and the writers were vague, but he was struck by the idea that a king might love his kingdom and the kingdom come to life because of that love. It was a far cry from what Uther had taught him of kingship.

As he watched and thought, he became aware of a quiet conversation.

'...three of them.'

'Which ones?'

'They're almost in line with each other.'

'Oh, yes - yes, I can see them!'

'Orion's belt. You see there are two brighter-'

'Who's Orion?'

'Who's Orion, Merlin? Who's mighty Orion, greatest among hunters?'

'Tell me about him!'

Arthur smiled. There was a time when he would have rolled his eyes at Merlin's simple, eager curiosity, but perhaps his little stint in the library showed that he was not so different. More than that, though - and he wasn't at all sure how it had happened - Merlin had somehow managed to make a place for himself in Arthur's heart, and Arthur couldn't help but take pleasure in his friend.

He would have rolled his eyes if he had thought anyone was watching. Sometimes, he wished that their relationship worked a little differently. That business in the tunnels beneath the White Mountains told the whole story: a declaration of friendship, promptly retracted in order to save face. Their incapacity to speak their care and concern for each other more directly was probably the result of how they had met - he, an arrogant, self-indulgent noble; Merlin, a rude peasant with no real sense of propriety. Granted, that had allowed their unlikely friendship to form in the first place, but Arthur knew that neither of them had ever quite got over the need to prove something to each other. He needed to prove that he had what it took, whatever that meant. Merlin - well, he wasn't sure what Merlin needed to prove, but the banter was partly protective. There were things Merlin wasn't telling him.

Yet in these little unguarded moments, Merlin's guileless, almost childlike curiosity revealed the gentle and enthusiastic nature that was so firmly part of who he was - the true Merlin, as Arthur thought of him.

At that moment, and without warning, the man in question sat up a little, turned and looked straight at him, and their eyes met. Surprise registered briefly on his manservant's face, and then a smile spread slowly across it, broadening into a full grin. He held his master's gaze like that for a moment, and then lay back down and carried on listening to Percival.

What on earth had that been about? There were things Arthur would never understand about Merlin.

It wasn't until much later, as Arthur was nodding off, that he realized that he had been smiling when Merlin had turned to look at him. Merlin had turned to find his king smiling at him.

Perhaps things could be different in future.

That night, Merlin dreamt. It was the same dream he had had since coming to Camelot. He was running up a hill, running as hard as he could. The ground underfoot was soft, green, springy turf. Wildflowers grew as far as the eye could see, their scent filling the air delightfully. Somewhere off to his left a stream ran downhill and sang merrily in the golden glow of the morning.

As he looked up, he beheld a sight that made him gasp, and he almost stopped running. It was the source of the dawn light: not the sun, but a great tree whose boughs spread wide over the summit of the hill. Its leaves were a deep green, and golden fruit hung from its branches, and from it came a gentle radiance, as if light itself had embraced form and now shone forth across the land, illuminating it and giving it fresh life.

Merlin picked up his pace. His body knew no tiredness; his legs rejoiced in the motion, his lungs breathing the life of the tree, his heart filled with hope, a giddy delight rising up in him, and he sped towards it.

It was not far off now.

He awoke the following morning with a smile on his face.