AN: Ok, so the only thing you need to know here is that Arthur found out about Merlin's magic about two days before the events in italic. Please enjoy!
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It began with the whispers.
Quiet, at first. Skeptical, but hopeful at the same time. Eventually, reverent. Awe-inspired.
Anyone who visited the Forest of Balor (though there were few) said the same thing.
There was something about the forest. Something different. A feeling that got stronger the further they went in.
It was a feeling of wonder.
A feeling of peace.
A feeling of magic.
The souls of those who visited were lighter upon leaving, and they felt stronger. The forest and the mountains before it didn't claim as many lives as they had before. Arthur even heard tell of people who went there specifically to experience the wonder, the joy that the woods imparted onto them.
It seemed that danger had gotten bored and decided to move on to a different forest.
Arthur wasn't so sure.
How could something so horrible have happened in a place so wonderful?
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She came at him out of nowhere, appearing as a ghost in the night. She knocked him to the ground, laughing.
He stood, but he was shrouded in darkness. She had created this fog, this blindness for him. He heard her laughing at him, taunting him.
He clenched his fists.
She was so sure she would win.
He was not.
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It didn't take long before the whispers were whispers no longer. The peasants in the town spoke wistfully of the forest, hoping to journey to it. It was said to bring good fortune to those who passed through. Some even said it had healed their ailments.
The king was suspicious. He hoped this didn't turn out to be some sort of trick to draw people to the forest. He didn't want to have to deal with any more rogue sorcerers.
Considering what had happened there, he was surprised the forest wasn't dying. After the incident, he himself had felt the despair of the place.
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She launched herself at him, but he felt her coming this time. He stepped away and sent a curse after her.
She deflected it easily.
"Is that the best you can do?" She was laughing still. "I didn't want this fight to be boring."
He let her bask in her own arrogance for a moment. He was going to wipe that grin straight off her face.
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It had been many months since he had last seen Merlin.
Some said he was gone forever, and urged Arthur to let him go. He had a kingdom to run, after all.
Arthur was not inclined to take such advice. He did in fact have a kingdom to run, and Merlin was going to help him run it.
Logically, he knew they were right. That there was little hope, if any.
Well, it was a good thing his manservant was an expert at defying logic.
It had been many months, but he knew better than anyone that Merlin was strong. If there were a way to survive, Merlin would find it.
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He mounted the attack his time, sending sharp blades of pure magic sailing straight for her.
She threw up a shield. It saved her, but it had also tired her.
He smirked. She scowled. She drew herself up and starting incanting a spell, quietly so he could not hear. He got ready to defend himself.
She opened her eyes.
Nothing happened.
He was not stupid. He did not drop his guard.
She smiled knowingly and shouted a spell. This one he understood very well.
Kill.
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Even Gaius was starting to lose faith.
Arthur watched, as one by one, his closest friends began to grieve. The hope was nearly gone from their eyes, and Arthur couldn't bear it.
Merlin was not gone.
He wondered if denial counted as grief.
Then he pushed that thought away, feeling sick.
Perhaps a trip to that forest would do him good.
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She had enchanted the very trees to kill him.
He could not move, could not step anywhere without the roots wrapping around his ankles, up his legs, dragging him down to the earth. He fought them off, snapped them with his magic, but there were so many. He did not wish to kill the entire forest.
She stalked towards him, moving unhindered over the murderous earth. "Say your final goodbyes, Emrys." She sighed. "It's a pity. I expected more from you." She turned away.
"You want a fight?" He was angry. "I'll give you one."
She stilled.
He stood, tearing through the roots holding him down through sheer force of will. He immobilized the trees with a thought. She sensed it and turned to face him.
For the first time, she looked scared. Then her face hardened.
The fight began.
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A druid came to him, not long after the whispers had become common conversation.
He was surprised. He'd thought they would hate him for what he'd done. Or rather, what he hadn't done.
They didn't.
The druid had come with a plea. Save Emrys. Just two words. Save Emrys.
Arthur fought hard not to jump at the hope that had ignited in his chest.
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He tried to drown her on dry land. She tried to burn him alive. He tried to suffocate her. She created monsters out of the earth.
He fought them off, dissolving them with water. It had become a battle of the elements.
He grinned.
She didn't realize her mistake.
She encased him in a ball of fire, but the flames did him no harm. They were a warm tickle on his arms.
He dissipated the fire with a wave of his hand.
She gaped at him.
She had forgotten that magic was the fifth element.
Merlin was magic. Morgana Pendragon, unfortunately, was not.
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He did not know where to start.
Several more druids came to him. All said the same thing.
Save Emrys.
He wanted to, but he did not know where to look. He told them as much.
One druid regarded him oddly, as if wondering how Arthur could have overlooked something so obvious.
He is where you left him.
Something clicked into place in his brain.
Arthur started paying more attention to the whispers.
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He bombarded her with all that he had. Four elements, working together with him, their brother.
She was not as weak as she seemed.
But she was not strong enough, either.
She was pulling deep from the well of dark magic to protect herself.
He had all of nature on his side.
She sent her magic at him, dark tendrils meant to creep into his heart, into his mind, and to drive him insane.
He put up a wall inside his head, magic thrumming through his veins, light so bright behind his eyes it threatened to blind him. He pushed it outward, knowing she would suffer for the feel of the light magic.
But it seemed she had set up defenses of her own.
The magic hung in the air between them, swirling. He could feel it fighting, a tug-of-war between light and dark.
It was agonizing.
He was being ripped apart on the inside, even as he watched the battle unfolding in front of him. The darkness was inside him just as the light was, but he had always refused to tap into that power. He could feel it twisting within him now.
He tried to focus on calming the opposing forces. A balance was necessary.
She took her advantage. She flung the darkness into the earth.
The trees came alive once more.
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They spoke of the Forest of Balor, on the southeastern border of the kingdom.
Arthur had been there once, a long time ago.
He'd been saving Merlin.
But Merlin hadn't drunk poison for him this time. This time, he had done something far greater. Arthur knew that as surely as the druids did.
But it had come at a cost. And Arthur had failed to save him. To stop him. Arthur had allowed him to walk to his end.
A feeling of wonder. A feeling of peace. A feeling of magic.
Magic had saved Arthur in that forest once.
He is where you left him.
They had only found traces of his sister. Arthur doubted he'd ever see her again.
There had been no sign of Merlin.
Arthur figured this wasn't so surprising. He had, after all, been oblivious to a good deal of Merlin's activities for many, many years.
There was nothing left to do now but to find him.
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He stumbled away from her, but the roots tugged at his legs, trapping him.
The earth was no longer his friend.
He sent a column of flame down on her. When it lifted, she was unharmed. She came towards him.
He could feel the darkness leaching off her, a twisted abomination of magic that made his stomach squirm and sent shivers down his spine.
The roots were coming up his legs, thickening and solidifying into solid tree bark as they went. Soon his legs were completely encased.
"You cannot sustain this, Morgana," he pleaded with her. "The darkness will only destroy you."
"No, Merlin, it will not. Today, it has saved me. Perhaps you could have understood one day, if you had not been so keen to betray your own kind."
"Magic should not used like this, Morgana. You have purged the light magic from yourself almost entirely. There must be a balance."
"There is no room in this world for goodness, Emrys. Not any longer."
She turned away. The roots were covering his chest now, and he was having trouble breathing.
There was only one thing left to do.
He was going to try and save her.
He directed his light magic at her. He pushed it on her, around her, wanting her to feel the beauty of it, the wonder, to accept it.
She resisted, turning to glare at him. Her will was strong.
He pushed harder. The light tore at the darkness surrounding her, but it could not penetrate her defenses. Her eyes began to glow, and the darkness manifested physically around her, a shield. So much darkness. Too much for one person to handle. The light was stabbing holes in it, trying in vain to reach her. To save her from herself.
She began to scream.
He felt it as she did. Righting the scales had never been so excruciating.
He could not force the light onto her if she did not want it. He knew that. But he didn't know what else to do.
The roots had reached his neck, now.
He pushed harder, praying for her to understand what he was trying to do. Praying for her to give him a chance.
She didn't.
The light couldn't reach her.
And suddenly, there was nothing.
He had enough time to see the remains of a tattered black cloak, ashes drifting in the wind around it, before the roots covered his head, and he knew no more.
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They arrived at the forest's edge after two days of hard riding. The whispers-turned-legends had been right. It did feel different.
When Arthur had come here to find the Mortaeus flower, he'd felt foreboding.
When Arthur had come here to find his sister and his manservant, he'd felt despair.
Now he felt… hope.
They urged their horses forward.
The calm and peace settled over them the deeper they went in. Arthur found himself feeling happier and more optimistic than he had in a long time.
It felt as if the forest itself was healing.
It wasn't hard to find their destination. All they had to do was follow the sense of safety and security.
Arthur recognized the place they had found Morgana's ash-covered cloak. There was no trace of it now.
They came upon an enormous hawthorn tree that towered above them. It appeared to be hundreds, if not thousands, of years old.
Arthur remembered feeling uneasiness around that tree.
Now he felt calm.
The forest felt more alive here than it had anywhere else. The trees seemed to breathe with the wind, and the sunlight gave the woods a golden tint. It was quiet, but sounds of life permeated the air.
Arthur was drawn towards the tree.
In fact, it seemed to be the source of the good will spread throughout the forest.
He put a palm to it.
Instantly, his mind was filled with memories of laughter, joy, friendship, and loyalty. The laughter sounded suspiciously like Merlin.
Arthur looked up at the tree. Its branches waved lazily above him, as if in greeting.
"Merlin," he whispered. "Are you here?"
The branches continued to sway in the breeze.
"I'm sorry I didn't come earlier. I didn't know… I didn't know what had happened. The druids helped me figure it out."
The leaves rustled as the wind picked up slightly. Arthur took it as a good sign.
"Come back to me, Merlin. Please."
He hadn't realized how much hope he'd allowed to grow in his chest, how much he didn't want to be let down. If Merlin was already long gone, if the atmosphere of the forest was just a residual trace of him, Arthur didn't know what he'd do.
But the energy of the place was changing. The magic was churning around them. Arthur could feel it thrumming inside him, passing through him as a friendly tickle. He felt his own love for his friends swell, and knew, instinctively, that this friendship was a special kind of magic. The last push of light needed to even the scales.
The wind was getting much stronger now. It whipped at the surrounding trees, leaves flying everywhere. The light shining through the leaves seemed to become even more golden.
Arthur took a step back from the tree.
And then there he was. Sitting against the hawthorn. Looking calm, peaceful. Fast asleep.
Arthur surged forward.
Put a hand on Merlin's shoulder.
Merlin opened his eyes.
The balance had been restored.
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Thank you for reading and please review!