Author's Note: Was anyone else pissed about the last Merlin? I was! My boyfriend asked me why I was so grumpy and when I told him why he laughed at me and called me ridiculous. I sort of see his point…haha. Anyways, where are my reviews? Please, I need them or else nobody will read it! Thank you for all those who did review…I am very excited for this story! I have decided to stay home one more day because it is still difficult to get into Manhattan without waiting for freaking ever. So, here is the next chapter! PLEASE REVIEW!
Merlin remembered dying. He remembered the feel of Arthur's tunic against his cheek as his king frantically carried him down from the roof of the tavern. He remembered Kilgarrah's grieving roar as his mind slowly slipped into the embrace of eternal darkness and he remembered the feel of his last breath hitching in his lungs and slipping through his lips with a gasping finality. Most of all, though, he remembered the peace that settled over him when his heart finally stopped beating; no more pain, no more grief, no more endless worry. He had proudly given his life for a man he knew would bring peace to the land and could pass on to the spirit world knowing he had kept Arthur safe.
When his world went black for the final time he had never expected to open his eyes again. Yet, open them he did and in the last place he had ever thought to find himself in. He had awoken in Avalon, a land so unlike anything he'd ever seen that Merlin was rendered speechless.
He could feel the vibrations of magic and power against his skin like crackling lightning and each time his body so much as shifted it sent a delicious thrum through his body. He was breathing heavily and his muscles were tight beneath his skin, as if he'd been running for hours, but he felt more alive than he ever had before.
He was laying in a field of grass, the rich smell of clover and meadowsweet thick in the air. The night sky shone high above him, littered with bright golden stars and giant, whirling vortexes of pinks, greens, blues and purples. He could hear a soft ringing nearby, as if the air were filled with tiny bells, and it took him a long moment to figure out that the sound was not, in fact, bells but the babble of a small waterfall into a giant pond a few yards beyond him. A slight summer breeze caressed his cheeks and Merlin shivered with the pleasures it promised. His skin shone softly with an unearthly light and he stared at his hands as, with every beat of his heart, the veins beneath his flesh flashed silver.
Finally, and with more reluctance than he cared to admit, Merlin rose up from his spot in the grass, his movements sending shimmering motes of golden light dancing within the air. He watched them dip and sway for a long moment, transfixed by the simple elegance of their beauty and when one touched upon his face he could feel the energy of it sinking into his skin like a tiny flame.
He laughed with the thrill of it all and sprinted through the tall stalks of grass, golden dust exploding around him with every powerful stride of his legs. His body felt strong and capable and no matter how fast he ran his lungs never tired. He sprinted, whooping and shouting, to the banks of the tinkling pond.
The water shone a clear blue with the same light that hovered across his skin and within its depths swam fish as large as horses, their giant fins swirling the water with slow, luxurious strokes. They had eyes the color of moonlight and came in every hue, from yellow to pink, with tiny patches of glowing silver all along the undersides of their bellies, the top sides of their fins, and over the giant hump of their back.
A waterfall rippled down the sides of a giant rock wall, tiny strands of ivy winding its way down on either side of the falling water. Orange and red flowers the size of Merlin's head decorated the ivy in bright splashes of color and wherever the flowers touched the rock beneath pulsed with energy. The pool seemed to call to him, begging him to dive deep within its depths and take strength from the feel of it against his skin.
Merlin hurriedly stripped off his shirt and boots, managing to maintain his balance even as he hopped on one foot to remove his shoe. Oh, if only Arthur could see him now. He would never be called clumsy again.
He dipped his toes in to test the temperature and found the water warm and soothing. A faint scent of crisp apples and fall leaves filled his nose and Merlin breathed deep, his lips curling into a lazy grin. He took a step back, preparing to dive into the pool's welcoming arms, but was stopped by a gentle tug of magic on his shoulder. He looked behind him, saw nothing, and rolled his eyes at his own foolishness. Jumping at shadows like a fearful guppy, he scoffed. Except there, in the afterlife, there were no shadows to fear.
He turned back to the water and prepared to dive once more, heedless to the fish's sudden rapt attention upon him or the sudden fangs that had sprouted from puckered lips. The pool called to him once more and he closed his eyes, relishing in its sweet whisper in his mind. Even as he tensed his muscles to jump he felt another tug of gentle power, but this time the pull was more insistent than the last.
"Emrys," a melodious voice called. "Heed my power, Emrys and do not jump."
Merlin turned in surprise and gasped. A woman, no older than Guinevere sat in a throne of twisted wood that Merlin had not noticed before. She was shrouded in a simple dress the color of twilight and a shining, silver cloak lay across her bare shoulders. Her eyes were golden like his own, but were slanted in catlike slits and when she smiled fangs brushed against blood-red lips. Auburn curls cascaded down her back and she idly twirled one around her finger as she studied him. A small circlet crowned her head and a torc of silver spiraled around her throat, matching those that curled up her arms. Her flesh, pale and milky, shone with an even greater intensity than his and Merlin had to squint his eyes in order to adjust to her brilliance.
"Who are you," Merlin asked quietly, staring at her uncertainly.
"I am Ceridwen," the woman answered softly, rising from her throne and padding across the grass to him with bare feet. "I am the Mother of Life and Magic, Emrys. And you…you are my most precious son."
"My Lady," Merlin gasped in awe, falling to his knees before her. "Forgive me. I did not know."
"There is nothing to forgive," Ceridwen said with a small shake of her head. "Rise, Emrys, and hear what I say."
Merlin got to his feet, but kept his head bowed. He understood now and felt like a fool for not realizing it earlier. He was not in the Underworld and he doubted very much whether the afterlife would be as peaceful as he first believed. For reasons he did not understand Merlin was in Avalon, the lands of the gods and the birthplace of magic.
"You have done well," Ceridwen whispered, placing her fingertips beneath his chin and lifting his head to meet her golden eyes. "There were those of us who believed you would fail in your destiny, but I never doubted. You have earned your place in Avalon, Emrys, if you will take it."
"Avalon," Merlin repeated. "But…mortals have no place among the gods…everyone knows that."
"You are not a mortal man," Ceridwen replied kindly. "You are a son of magic, Emrys. My son and your place is with those who share your power."
"I'm not a god," Merlin insisted. "I'm just a man, my lady. A servant of my power, but nothing more."
"A god among men," Ceridwen replied with a small smile. "You were conceived upon the planes of Avalon, my son. A child created by the gods to lead humanity upon the path destined for greatness. This is your home and, when the time is right, this is where you shall return."
"I don't understand," Merlin whispered. "What are you saying?"
"You are mine," Ceridwen announced proudly. "The human woman whom you call mother may have birthed you, but it was I who gave you breath, gave you form. You are a child of Avalon, Emrys. A prince of the gods and one day you will return to take your place among us."
"One day," Merlin repeated. "But, not now?"
"Your work is not yet finished," Ceridwen answered. "Without your guiding light, King Arthur's path is shadowed and I cannot foresee where it will lead him. Even now the demon's curse begins to fray the edges of his mind."
"Demon curse," Merlin blanched. "What demon curse?"
"You were right to fear for your friend's life tonight, Emrys. A demon's magic is not meant to kill, but to strike fear in the minds of men. He will fall into darkness if you do not save him."
"How? How do I save him? What can I do?"
"Do not fret, my child. I will give you what you need to save your precious Arthur and the lands of Camelot."
"Thank you," Merlin gasped, closing his eyes in relief. "Thank you, my lady. I don't know how I can ever repay your kindne—"
"Do not be so quick to thank," Ceridwen whispered darkly. "You have not heard my price, son of magic."
"Price," Merlin uttered, dumbstruck. "I thought you said you would help me."
"And so I shall…once you have helped me."
"How can I possibly help you?"
"You will act as my emissary, Emrys."
"Acting how?"
"I seek a dagger of great power that lies within the far reaches of Avalon. You shall retrieve it for me and your request to save King Arthur will be granted."
Merlin felt unease flutter through him and he studied the goddesses face for a long time. Could he trust her? After all, the gods were notorious for being less than truthful when it came to their human emissaries and cared very little for the lives they chose to undertake their quests. How was he any different from any other mortal Ceridwen had sent to fulfill her boons? Then again, if Ceridwen were to be believed he was not, in fact, a mortal man though he did not entirely understand what she meant by being a prince of Avalon.
There had been a great deal of debate between himself and Gaius over whether or not Merlin was entirely human. Gaius asserted that the warlock was far too powerful to be a simple human, but Merlin was so loathe to think of himself as anything else that he argued relentlessly in favor of his mortality. He and Arthur had even discussed the topic at length, but his king was still too new the idea of magic to really understand how a man could be anything other than human and had dismissed the idea of his friend's possible immortality as nothing more than wishful thinking, refusing to believe Merlin did not wish to be anything but human.
Regardless of whether he was immortal or not, the fact remained that Ceridwen could be attempting to trick him. She seemed honest enough, but when it came to the gods one could never be entirely certain. Their beauty and power often hid their deceit, but the deities were just as greedy and corrupt as their human emissaries and felt little loyalty to the world they ruled over.
Ceridwen's cat-like slits narrowed and her golden eyes shone down on him with all the intensity of a hawk on a mouse. Her fangs were bared in a feral grin and Merlin shrunk away from her, fear gnawing at his belly. He had not meant to show his terror, but she had changed from a beautiful silver queen to a powerful huntress so quickly that he could not help himself.
"You question my honesty," Ceridwen hissed. "I have shone you nothing but kindness in my home, yet you cringe away from me as if I have raised my hand against you. Why, Emrys? What reason do you have to distrust me so?"
Merlin felt his tongue stick to the roof of his mouth and when he tried to answer his words caught in his throat. He felt her gaze hot upon his skin and he trembled, closing his eyes so that he did not have to look upon her face.
"Answer me," Ceridwen ordered, shoving so much power into her words that Merlin was forced to his knees.
Merlin shook his head, unable to speak. Ceridwen hissed in fury and Merlin groaned as the goddess's anger burned in his veins. Didn't she understand? Didn't she see? How could he trust something that acted with such rage? With such power?
His blood boiled and Merlin cried out, trying to form the words that would make her stop. Why couldn't he die and be left in peace like everyone else? Why did he always have to give more than he had to give? His own anger and pain rose within him and before Merlin knew what he was doing he had regained his feet, straining against the power that threatened to slam him down again.
"Stop," Merlin shouted, magic pulsing from him in a giant wave.
Flame erupted across the sky in a wave of heat and Merlin felt his heart lurch as the power left him. The magic pressing against him instantly eased and the heat within his veins died down to a soft warmth. Ceridwen stared at him, head cocked to the side, and smiled.
"Your power is great," she said simply. "You will be perfect for the task I have in mind."
"You can forget it," Merlin snarled. "Find another human puppet because it isn't me. Not after that little display."
"You would be wise to reconsider," Ceridwen frowned. "I will not offer again, Emrys."
"Good," Merlin growled. "That means I won't have to refuse you again."
"You would let Camelot and its king fall?"
"What?"
"Heed my words, Emrys. If you refuse my quest then all you hold dear will be destroyed. Everything you have worked for, everyone you have come to love will burn in the light of Arthur's insanity."
"No," Merlin replied, shaking his head. "You don't know Arthur like I do. He won't let that happen."
"He is a mortal man," Ceridwen said softly. "He is weak and will fall without your help. You will see."
"You don't know him," Merlin repeated. "Arthur is not weak. He's the strongest man I know and would never hurt his people. He'd die before allowing that."
"And you would let him it seems," Ceridwen whispered. "If Arthur falls then so to will Camelot. They are one and the same, you see. The destruction of one will inevitably bring about the destruction of the other."
"What can I do," Merlin demanded. "I'm no longer part of that world. How can I save him?"
"Fulfill my quest," Ceridwen said. "Give your word to me and I shall send you back among mortal men, my child. And when you have returned the dagger to me I shall give you a vial of my tears. I have not given such a gift to a mortal man since the beginning of time, Emrys. You would do well to take it."
"The tears will save him?"
"And the witch if that is what you desire."
"Morgana," Merlin whispered, only now remembering the woman that had sacrificed herself for him. "She's dead?"
"Not dead," Ceridwen replied. "Lost within her nightmares. A fate more terrible than death."
"And these tears will bring her back as well?"
"Aye."
"What's the catch?"
"The catch?"
"Yes, the catch. You make this sound too easy, my lady. All I have to do is fetch a dagger? No, there is more to this than what you are telling me. What are you going to use the dagger for? Where is it hidden? Whom does it belong to?"
"Curiosity is a fool's trait, Emrys. Do not stick your nose in places it does not belong."
"You said I'm one of you," Merlin insisted. "If that is true then what do you have to lose by telling me? You asked why I distrust you, but you give me no reason to do otherwise. You hedge around my questions and attempt to use my fear of you to control me. That is not the actions of someone with nothing to hide."
"You fear me," Ceridwen asked, studying him intently.
"I fear your power," Merlin said humbly. "And I fear your words."
"My words?"
"Camelot's fate…and my own."
"Your fate is here, boy."
"And that is what scares me."
"Why?"
"I have never wished to be more than I am, my lady. My whole life I have been content with the powers I was given, with the path I had chosen. How can I be anything different than what I was?"
"You were born with a mortal body, Emrys, but your soul is not mortal. Your soul was born within Avalon and it is the soul that makes up the man, not the body he resides in."
"I don't understand."
"Understanding comes with time and time is one thing you lack."
"Then tell me. Why do you need the dagger?"
"Very well," Ceridwen sighed. "The dagger belongs to Arawn and lies within his realm of Annwfn."
"Let me see if I understand you correctly," Merlin blurted. "You want me to steal a dagger from a war god? How exactly am I supposed to accomplish that?"
"With the gifts we have given you," Ceridwen replied. "Emrys, you were created to be warrior prince, weaker than the gods, but free to act of your own volition. Your power may not be as strong as Arawn's, but you have something he never will."
"What's that?"
"A heart," Ceridwen whispered. "A soul. Such gifts grant you a strength Arawn could never hope to destroy."
"Why do you want it? What good would it do you?"
"Arawn seeks war," Ceridwen answered. "He wishes to command the powers of Avalon and rule on his own. If he continues on his path to dominance there will be a great war upon the Plains of the Gods. I wish to stop this from happening."
"Why?"
"Long ago, when mankind was just beginning, there was another war among the gods. We squabbled and fought, killed and maimed and all the while the mortals we had created paid the price for our petty battles. Earthquakes consumed the earth, droughts and famine swept through the cities, plagues left thousands dying in the streets. After the war was over we made a pact to never battle against one another again. We have all done our part to keep this truce, but Arawn threatens all in his lust for power."
"And stealing his dagger will prevent this from happening?"
"His power lies within the blade. With it gone he will become mortal and we can manage him from there."
"So, I travel through Avalon, into the Underworld and just snatch the dagger from his hands? Somehow I don't see this going down as smoothly as it sounds."
"Arawn keeps the dagger by his side at all times," Ceridwen explained. "In order to retrieve it from him you will have to do battle against him."
"Me," Merlin croaked. "Battle a god? No, you've obviously got the wrong man. How can I possibly defeat a god of war?"
"The power of your soul," Ceridwen said gently. "And with the help of the man you call king."
"Arthur," Merlin asked. "What can Arthur do?"
"The mortal man will lend you the strength you need to do what must be done," Ceridwen replied. "He will keep you on your path and remind you of who you are when times are at their darkest."
"I can't fight a god," Merlin repeated.
"Do not underestimate your gifts," Ceridwen warned. "You are far more powerful than even you realize."
"What happens after? When I bring the dagger back to you?"
"I give you what I have promised you, Emrys. A vial of my tears and the cure to Arthur's curse."
"And Morgana as well?"
"If that is what you wish."
"And what about me?"
"You?"
"What happens to me?"
"You will take your place among the gods of Avalon," Ceridwen replied.
"You mean…my time with Arthur will be done?"
"Yes, my child. Your time among mortal men will be complete."
"Oh."
"Does this not please you?"
"I—don't…things were just beginning to go well."
"All things come to an end, Emrys. You knew that you and Arthur would not be joined forever."
"Yes, but…"
"But?"
"I expected to have more time," Merlin whispered. "How can I leave him? How can I say goodbye?"
"Do not fret on it, Emrys. That time has not yet come…you will see him again."
Merlin frowned and closed his eyes against the growing sense of panic in his chest. He couldn't leave Arthur, he just couldn't. The very idea of being without the man left a hole in his heart and stole the breath from his lungs. Regardless of whatever he may be within the world of Avalon he would give it all up to spend his days on earth at his king's side.
"Time grows short," Ceridwen said. "Have you made your choice, Emrys?"
"I will do as you ask," Merlin rasped. "I will fulfill your quest."
"I had hoped you would," Ceridwen smiled. "You will not regret this day, son of magic."
"How do I get back to Avalon once I'm in the mortal world?"
"There is a gate," Ceridwen answered. "In the far reaches of Albion. You must travel there and unlock it."
"Unlock it," Merlin repeated. "With what?"
"This," Ceridwen whispered.
She held out her slim hand and Merlin cautiously slipped his own hand into hers. She gripped it tightly and brought her lips to his wrist, smiling as he tensed against her.
"Do not be afraid," she whispered, even as her lips brushed against his skin.
Something burned harshly for a long moment and Merlin tried to pull away, but Ceridwen held him tight. Her mouth was still against his flesh and Merlin caught the bright flash of teeth an instant before her fangs sunk into his wrist. He screamed as blinding pain bit into him and wrenched away from her, but Ceridwen wrapped an arm around his waist even as his knees buckled.
"Please," he groaned. "Stop…please."
The burning in his wrist eased as she released him and he crumpled to the grass, holding his aching hand to his chest. She wiped his blood from her lips and sunk to her knees beside him, smiling as he jerked away from her.
"I have given you the key," Ceridwen whispered. "Look, Emrys."
Merlin glanced down at his wrist and watched in amazement as the blood and puncture wounds disappeared, leaving a glowing silver rune etched into his skin. He touched it and the rune pulsed with power, leaving him gasping and lightheaded with the thrill of it.
"What did you do," Merlin gasped.
"I have marked you as my emissary," Ceridwen explained. "You will be allowed passage through the gates of Avalon."
"And Arthur?"
"He would never survive such a branding," Ceridwen whispered solemnly. "He is not of this world, Emrys, and such magic would kill him. He must remain at your side or else he will be lost."
"Right," Merlin said. "By my side…no problem."
"And Emrys?"
"Yes?"
"Do not fall victim to the beauty of this land."
"What do you mean?"
"This world is a deceiving place, child. There is great danger lurking for those who do not belong here."
"But…I thought…I do belong here."
"You will, in time. Your power, while in this realm, is far greater than it could ever be upon the mortal plain, but until you have ascended among us you will still be in danger."
"Then why don't I ascend now?"
"You cannot," Ceridwen snapped. "Once you have taken your place among us you will no longer be free to act as emissary. You would be bound to the same laws that keep me from stealing the dagger myself. By doing so I would begin the very war I seek to stop."
"Everything is always so damn complicated," Merlin huffed.
"Remember," Ceridwen warned again. "Do not be fooled by our beauty. There is danger lurking even within the most beautiful of places."
"I'll remember," Merlin said quietly.
"Then go," Ceridwen whispered. "Return to the mortal world, Emrys and fulfill your promise to me."
Merlin attempted to open his mouth to ask her more questions, but he suddenly felt as if a great weight sat upon his chest and he could not draw in air. The weight grew and Merlin collapsed, darkness eating away at his vision. He felt his magic flare brightly before receding again, weakening as he was forced through the barrier between the mortal and supernatural worlds.
The next thing he knew he was waking to a desperate kiss from Awen, her tears upon his cheeks and her hands cradling his head against her own. He woke to a world he'd thought he left behind and a king who he would be forced to leave once their task was complete. He thought, perhaps, that his time with Ceridwen had been a dream, but a quick glance at the glowing rune on his wrist dashed the thought away.
How was he supposed to leave that which he held most dear? It would be the same as losing them forever, wouldn't it? He would save Arthur and Camelot, but what good would it do him if he couldn't be there to see it? Further more, how was he supposed to tell the king?
Even now, as they prepared for their journey into a world Merlin barely understood but was somehow a part of, he could not bring himself to tell his friend about his inevitable fate. He tried to convince himself that he was not hiding from his king, but sparing the man from heartache in his already weakened mental state. What do you say to a man who has stood by you and gone to hell and back to keep you safe? What do you say to a friend who sacrificed everything they knew to make your life better?
How do you say goodbye to a friend? A brother?
Well, the answer was easy enough for Merlin. There would be no goodbye. No farewell. Merlin would find a way to make sure of that. How? He did not know, but he would do anything he had to remain at Arthur's side. He had given too much of himself to not see Arthur through to the end. Regardless of when that end would come and regardless of what it would cost him to do so.
