Amid Crystals and Visions
Just a fluffy oneshot that came to mind after I subconsciously connected Of Monsters and Men's Crystals to Merlin and the Crystal Cave.
The story is set after 5x13, where Arthur survives and learns all about Merlin's previously secret adventures, and visits the Cave.
For those of you who have read my other post 5x13 stories, this can be linked as part of the same AU.
Side note: To all of my readers who are wondering, I am working on a sequel to Of Enemies and Allies, I swear. Moving into an apartment and starting a job for the summer has taken up most of my time the past few weeks, but I can hopefully get more writing done now that I'm somewhat settled. Thank you for all the love you've given me, and for your patience.
So, without further ado... Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin.
"Cover your crystal eyes
And feel the tones that tremble down your spine
Cover your crystal eyes
And let your colors bleed and blend with mine."
"Crystals" –Of Monsters and Men
"Are you sure you want to do this?" Arthur Pendragon asked quietly, the sounds of the forest blending into the background as his attention focused firmly on the man beside him, "I know how much this place means to you."
The warlock nodded, though his gaze never left the rocky hill sloping upward in front of them. Finally, he turned to look at his king, "I'm sure; it's because you know how important this place is that I asked you to come with me."
Arthur's lips pulled into a slightly affectionate smile as Merlin closed his eyes for a brief second, taking a deep breath as though he could taste the magic in the air—and he probably could, if the king had to venture a guess.
When Merlin's kaleidoscopic gaze was visible once more, the two started towards the cave's entrance; Arthur paused by the opening for a second, taking Excalibur from the sheath at his waist, and laying it gently against the stone wall.
The warlock silently looked on, and smiled at his king's thoughtfulness, though the action sent a somber memory brushing through his mind, remembering the time in which he'd chastised the Pendragon for neglecting the Old Religion's sacred spaces—a time where Camlann was set in motion.
How long ago that seemed, now.
Merlin took up the lead, and walked across the threshold, lifting a hand before him and conjuring a ball of light in his palm.
He could feel the magic buzzing in the corridor's air, trembling in the very rocks of the cave. The pleasant and warm vibrations filling Merlin's mind hurried him further into the heart of the rocky cavern, while Arthur followed behind, his soft footfalls and clinking chainmail adding to the familiar peace of the moment.
As they kept walking, sometimes climbing over larger boulders and other rubble that marred their path, the warlock and king remained silent—allowing each other to be alone with their thoughts.
Arthur couldn't feel the magic in the cave, but the relaxed posture Merlin had slowly adopted during their journey told him all he needed to know: there was definitely magic present.
Finally, a dim light could be seen ahead, alerting the two young men to the opening before them.
Merlin took a deep breath, and Arthur felt his curiosity bubble at the warlock's continued reaction to the cave; he was bouncy (perhaps even nervous), but there was a calmness exuding from him, a calm Arthur had missed in his warlock.
The stressful situation of revising the laws against magic had the Court Sorcerer stretched thin, and while Arthur had tried to cheer his friend up on multiple occasions, Gaius had finally suggested the king take his former manservant on a hunt, if only to get Merlin away from politics, law, and the councilors of Camelot for a time.
However, when Arthur had mentioned the idea of a hunt, Merlin had scrunched his nose, entirely not thrilled with the prospect of tracking innocent game.
At that point, the Pendragon had been ready to pull his hair out at the warlock's refusal, until, surprisingly, Merlin had offered his own suggestion: A trip to the Crystal Cave.
Arthur had heard the stories, his warlock's own lips spilling the tales of purplish crystals, a deceased Dragonlord's voice, visions of the future, and a blue butterfly. The prospect of visiting this sacred place had excited the king; and now, as he drew nearer to the heart of magic, he couldn't help but feel the need to move faster—anxiously awaiting a sight of the crystalline cavern almost as much as Merlin was.
Arthur slowed to a stop, nearly bumping into his now stationary Court Sorcerer. He would have said something about Merlin's clumsiness, but catching a glimpse of what lay beyond the form of his brother, the words all but died on his lips.
The Crystal Cave.
Calm, pulsing lights cast warm shadows across the vaulted cavern, emanating from the beautiful crystals littered throughout the space; they were everywhere. While subjected to the deepest part of the cave, the air around the king felt alive—not at all stale. His gaze moved across the Birthplace of Magic, taking in each glowing gemstone. Then, Arthur shuffled a step forward, shoulder-to-shoulder with Merlin so that he could watch his sorcerer's reaction; however, the warlock wasn't looking at the cave.
"Welcome to the Heart of Magic, Arthur," Merlin tilted his head, a position the man often took when communicating telepathically. The warlock's lips parted, and then formed a smile, "the cave is welcoming you—it's as though the magic here is…" he searched for the right word, "singing."
The Pendragon, surprised, felt his eyes widen. His gaze searching beyond his friend, Arthur tried to find what Merlin was talking about—any patterns in the flickering lights, an ethereal shape—something that would let him understand.
Merlin watched him for a second, his shining eyes studying his soul-brother.
Then, "Can you feel anything?" the warlock sounded curious.
Arthur hid his disappointment at not hearing what Merlin was listening to, and raised an eyebrow in a classic Gaius move, "Am I supposed to?"
Merlin's face screwed into a pouting, somewhat exasperated expression, "I don't know, I was just asking. I've never brought anyone non-magical down here before," he shrugged, "I was wondering what it felt like to you."
Arthur focused on his feelings, trying again to find some different sensation he could relate to Merlin… but nothing.
Wait.
There was a slight tingling traveling through his veins, as though thrumming with a life not his own—but it was so light, the king felt as though he was imagining it.
"I… I don't know. I feel something, but I can't pinpoint it," Arthur's pride stopped him from making any guesses as to what the tingling meant.
A grin spread across Merlin's features, and then he stepped further into the cave, his hands loose at his sides, and facing out towards the crystals.
Arthur too, walked to the middle of the cavern, still puzzled by the sensations pulling at his soul—the place he'd narrowed down where he felt the electrifying buzz.
Merlin reached out and gingerly ran a finger across the nearest gemstone, sucking in a breath when the power of the rock sparked through him.
The warlock's eyes were distant as he blew air through his nose, and the joyful expression on his face made Arthur curious.
Was the crystal showing him a vision of the future?
What would that be like? Seeing something that awaited you in the future, and yet not knowing when or how that event would even come to be?
The mind jumbling questions weighed down the king's thoughts, so much so, that when he blinked, he found Merlin only a few feet away, staring at him with his elfin smile.
Arthur opened his mouth, ready to defend his overloaded brain, but a simple cock of the warlock's head had him scowling, and waving off any comment he might have made with a mock expression of anger.
Merlin released a fond "tsk, tsk" under his breath before turning to stare up at the glowing ceiling, an opening at the top revealing what could be a smaller gem-covered cavern beyond.
The warlock bounced on his toes, spinning to face his king with an expression of anticipation written across his features, his lips moving—forming words?—although no real sound came to Arthur's ears.
The king leaned forward slightly, straining his hearing to understand his brother; the strange phrase of "he's here," being the only discernable words he could identify.
"Close your eyes."
Merlin's voice, suddenly loud in the echoing chamber, startled Arthur, and forced his gaze to the young sorcerer.
"What?" the king was thoroughly confused by the request, after all, why would he close his eyes, when vision seemed to be the most important sense to a cave revealing scenes from the future?
"Just… close your eyes, prat," Merlin breathed, a soft chuckle underlying the command with fondness.
Arthur sighed, fixing the warlock with an unsure, though slightly curious gaze, before conceding and hiding his slate blue eyes beneath their lids.
"Thank you."
The crunching of pebbles beneath Merlin's boots sounded in the king's ear, and then the familiar essence of the warlock's magic surrounded Arthur, the warmth and purity of it never ceasing to make the king smile.
Words sounded in his ear—lilting accents of the Old Religion bouncing off the stone walls of the Crystal Cave.
Then, Merlin's voice quieted, leaving the space in perfect silence, except for the cave's soft sounds of water dripping to the rocky floor.
"Ok, you can open your eyes now."
The warlock was smiling as he said the words, Arthur knew, and so, with a contagious, small smile on his own lips, the king opened his eyes.
What greeted him, though, was definitely not what he expected.
In front of Arthur, was Merlin and someone the king—although aware of his soul-brother's encounters with said ghost—knew was long dead: Balinor the Dragonlord. His smile turned more into a stunned expression of shock. Still clothed in the coarse linens and leather that Arthur had first seen him in, Balinor stood tall, no longer weighed down by the burdens of life. Despite the beard and long hair, now that the king was looking for it, he king could clearly see the resemblance between Merlin and the Dragonlord.
"If you're done looking like a hooked fish, oh Once and Future King, I'd like to properly introduce you to my father," Merlin jibbed, adding a soft seriousness to the end of his comment.
Arthur cleared his throat, and gave his head a quick shake, "Yes, of course," he reached out a hand, "Balinor, it is an honor to meet you again, and even more so, now that I know of your relation to Merlin."
To Arthur's chagrin, a flashback of his own father's ghost's ethereal appearance came to mind, and he had to forcefully shove it away.
"As it is mine, to be a witness to the fulfillment of centuries old prophecies." The bluish specter of Merlin's father smiled, and merely nodded in greeting; Arthur realized rather late, that an incorporeal figure would not be able to touch his extended hand, and so, he dropped his arm back to his side, face tinged pink.
"You are indeed the Once and Future King, Arthur Pendragon," the Dragonlord's confident voice gave off the wisdom of ages.
Arthur dipped his head in acknowledgement of the man's praise, and then turned his gaze to Merlin, watching his former manservant's reaction.
He was smiling, his eyes crinkled from the large grin spread across his features. The joy radiating off Merlin was enough to make Arthur's own lips pull upward.
"Now, my son, why have you returned to the Crystals?" Balinor's voice was inquisitive, but warm; he was pleased to see the warlock again.
The young Dragonlord opened his mouth, before quickly closing it, and then opening it again, finally prepared to answer. "I came back to thank you," Merlin started, his voice thick with emotion, "your help the last time I was here… it was invaluable."
The warlock brushed a quick hand over his eyes, ridding his lashes of sparkling tears.
"No Merlin," the proud father shook his head slowly, "I only guided you to what you already knew. Such a task needs no credit, for I did nothing."
Merlin nodded, but Arthur could tell by the set of his eyes, that the young man was still offering his heartfelt thanks to the specter before him. Then, the warlock, as if weighed down by the memories replaying behind his eyes, sank to the cave floor, dropping to his knees. His teary gaze was still focused on his father, but Merlin remained silent.
Arthur stood only a few feet from the warlock, but the urge to comfort the young man—who was no doubt reliving nightmares from Camlann—slowly brought the king directly to Merlin's side, where he crouched and placed a hand on his brother's shoulder. The warlock's gaze shifted to Arthur, a small, thankful smile spread across his tear-stained face.
"It seems you have gained much since Camlann, Emrys," the voice of Balinor floated through the cave like a breeze, his ethereal shape watching over the brotherly moment with a smile, "take care of your victory."
Merlin nodded, but this time with more vigor; he had no intention of ever letting defeat come that close again. His couldn't voice the protectiveness he felt for Arthur—the sheer will of Destiny overwhelming the warlock—but Merlin knew that his expression was all Arthur needed to see. He'd understand.
Balinor's attention shifted to the man beside his son, his eyes taking on a more serious set.
"Arthur, just as you have won the favor of Destiny, your continued victory rests on your actions; do not fall back on the past," the Dragonlord motioned around him, "Magic is free, singing across the plains and forests of Camelot once more—but the dark storm clouds lie in wait. Do not let fear stand in your way when the darkness falls. Albion will stand, as long as her leader remembers his promise."
The piercing gaze of the ghost crawled across Arthur's skin. But he knew what promise the man spoke of. While he'd made many in the past few weeks, there was one reason that founded them all.
Merlin.
He had vowed to protect the warlock, and never again let the young man be alone in his secrets.
Arthur swallowed hard, noting that Balinor's emphasis on his promise and the dark storm clouds only meant trouble for Merlin.
"You have my word, Balinor, I will remember my oath." The kingly determination ringing through Arthur's response had Merlin turning his head to look at his brother, confusion furrowing his brow. He couldn't understand the obviously meaningful conversation—not without realizing Arthur's promise rested on him.
The Pendragon gave a curt nod, and then squeezed Merlin's shoulder as he stood.
He reached out a hand to pull his brother to his feet, and Merlin took it, only to misjudge his strength, and find himself swaying, and then tipping back towards the ground. He flung out the hand closest to the floor, and as Arthur gave a quick shout in surprise, it was then the warlock immediately realized his mistake. The hand had met the solid stone, only, it wasn't the normal rock of the cavern… it was a crystal.
He hadn't prepared himself for the magic of the gem, and so, he gasped as a bright light sprang into his vision, the cave disappearing as his mind's eye adjusted to what the crystal was showing him. Merlin watched from the edge of the forest, the towering citadel of Camelot in the distance. In the clearing, the long grasses swayed in the breeze, accompanied by the hands of a small child. A young golden-haired boy was running amongst the weeds, laughing and holding… a wooden dragon? Behind him, the louder voice of a grown male responded to the playful child,
"Amhar!" The happiness Merlin felt at the word bubbled in his chest. The blond head of his king bounced as the rest of his body emerged from the grasses, his hands reaching out to swoop down and grab the child.
A smile of elation found its way onto the warlock's face as he watched the interaction between an older Arthur Pendragon, and a young child whom Merlin had no doubt was the future heir to the Camelot throne.
This was what awaited Arthur in the Golden Age of Albion.
Beyond the two Pendragons, Merlin spotted a group of individuals, lying out in the summer sun. Without needing to get a closer look, the warlock knew who would be there. Gwen, a slightly older version of himself, and some of the knights lounged on the spread-out blanket, chuckles and muffled conversation floating to Merlin's ears.
A weight of worry disappeared from his chest—one Merlin hadn't noticed was there until the joy of the vision had swept it away—and he couldn't help but release a sigh of relief.
Everything that had happened in the last few months was paving the way for such a future; a future of golden happiness, as bright as the brilliant red of Camelot's colors.
All the council meetings, ill-hidden looks of disdain… he'd endure them all tenfold if only to arrive as the joyous time he was witnessing through the crystal.
It was like heaven on earth.
As soon as Merlin thought it, the clearing disappeared in a flash of white, blurring and dulling until he was once more looking at the blue-purple pulse of the Crystal Cave.
"Merlin!"
A hand gripped onto his shoulder, and lifted him to his feet—this time remaining on his person, steadying Merlin.
He opened his mouth to assure his king, but the words wouldn't come; instead, his lips pulled into a bright smile.
"Merlin, are you alright?" the soothing voice brushed close to his ear. The warlock finally regained the clarity of his vision, and found himself blinking up at his soul-brother.
"I'm fine," the words were released almost breathlessly, "better than fine," he amended with a beaming grin.
Arthur looked back at him with a fond, amused smile playing on his lips. A hand came up and ruffled Merlin's raven locks, and the warlock ducked away from the king's antics.
Balinor's response to the pair's actions—a soft chuckle—echoed in the chamber. He then held his son's bright gaze, a knowing look passing between them, for both knew of the time Merlin saw.
Albion.
The idea had the warlock grinning all over again, and while Arthur's expression only increased its confusion, the king remained silent. The Pendragon knew Merlin would share the vision if necessary. He also knew he hadn't seen his brother this relaxed and happy in weeks, and so, he'd let Merlin enjoy whatever the crystals had shown him.
After a few more seconds, the Dragonlord shifted backwards, breaking the connection with his son.
"Now, I think it is time you returned to the world of men, Emrys." The suggestion was voiced with a touch of disappointment, but the wisdom in the tone held out, "the king is not yet accustomed to such magic to be exposed to the Cave for too long." The last part was tacked on, as though Balinor knew it would get Merlin to leave sooner.
Anything to protect his Destiny, after all.
Arthur merely remained silent, unsure whether to interrupt what would soon be a parting of father and son. He slowly stepped back, inching his way back towards the entrance of the chamber. Merlin caught the movement, and sent back a grateful smile, but then, the emotion changed into something more solemn.
It was then that Arthur realized, while the young man was standing before his father, there was something otherworldly about the shade; this might be part of Balinor the great Dragonlord, but this man was clearly an essence of magic. He was a mixture of Merlin's father, and Emrys' guiding figure.
This would not be the type of goodbye that called for heartfelt tears, or privacy from Arthur.
The king's point was proven, then, when Merlin gave a nod to his father's suggestion, and then clasped his hands behind his back. Bowing slightly in respect to his elder, he said,
"Until next time, father."
"Goodbye, Merlin," the Dragonlord repeated the head gesture, and then, slowly, his body dispersed—the light particles pulled into the two nearest crystals.
The warlock spent a moment staring at the empty space, and then, turned back to his king.
"Ready?" He breathed out.
Arthur's lips pulled into a soft smile, and while not quite sure what he was supposed to be ready for, he motioned a hand towards the exit.
"Ready," he replied, because with Merlin by his side, he was ready for just about anything.