It's short! I know it's short! Please forgive me, but it's the build up to the next chapter, that WILL be posted on Saturday night.
Hope some questions about Merlin are answered in this chapter. A bit of angst on poor Merlin's part, but that's too be expected.
Enjoy!
XxX
The Long Road Home
Merlin trudged slowly down the path, barely able to find the strength to put one foot in front of the other.
He'd been walking for three days straight, barely stopping to eat or sleep, desperate to get away from Camelot as quickly as he could. There was no doubt in his mind that, should Camelot's patrol catch-up with him, he wouldn't make it out alive.
Merlin shivered slightly against the bitter wind, and pulled his thin cloak tighter around his slight frame. The worst of the winter had passed, but there was still a deep chill in the air as he made his way steadily north. By his calculations, he would reach the border of Mercia by noon tomorrow. Although not a close ally of Camelot, Mercia wasn't an enemy either. Arthur and his Knights would have no reason to pass through the Kingdom; Merlin would be safe.
Well, as safe as an all-powerful Warlock could be in a world that was rather against magic.
As he looked up, he felt the first drops of water begin to trickle down his face. For a moment, he closed his eyes, and pretended that it was tears trickling down his face. Pretended, for a moment, that he still had some left to shed. But then the strength of the rain began to increase, and Merlin was forced to stop and take shelter in a maze of overgrown roots that shielded him, mostly, from the elements.
The space was larger than it looked from the outside, and he managed to shrug off his drenched cloak, instead choosing to curl up under his thin blanket, watching the rain pounding into the ground in front of him. He was going nowhere tonight, so he may as well get as much rest as possible and make for the boarder first thing tomorrow.
With the sky growing ever darker, Merlin's mind began to drift back to the previous few days, his brain still attempting to process everything that had happened since Arthur had discovered him in the tunnels that night.
How could he have been so stupid? Of course the whole thing had been a trick; he had known that when he went down there. And yet, he had still underestimated Morded. He had been expecting to find some clever, hidden, magical trap, set to bring the foundations crumbling down around them when he began to investigate. He hadn't seen how simple the whole affair had been. Because, really, it had been simple.
Mordred told him the place to be, and had waited for him to enter the siege tunnels. The Knight had then informed the King that there was a sorcerer beneath the foundations, tampering with the citadel's structure. All he had to do was wait; Merlin and Arthur had done the rest of it themselves.
And now Merlin had been driven from Camelot, by his own loyalty and his own stupidity.
He'd barely been in the cells an hour when Arthur had summoned him before the court, and delivered his sentence without waiting to hear an explanation. Afterwards, he'd returned with Gaius to their chambers, and he'd collected all his stuff together, before carefully placing a spell on his staff and hidden it beneath the floor boards. The spell would allow his staff to help Camelot withstand magical attacks. It wouldn't keep Morgana out indefinitely, but it would certainly help.
Unless, of course, Arthur found it and had it destroyed.
Then there really would be nothing else he could do for Camelot. He just had to hope that, one day, the King would open his eyes to the truth about magic and maybe, one day, he would be allowed to return home. But until then, he would just have to wait.
He seemed to do a lot of that.
Waiting...
XxX
The first rays of sunlight danced across his face as his eyes blinked open. He hadn't even realised he'd fallen asleep.
At least it had stopped raining.
As Merlin extracted himself from the hole beneath the tree, he looked around himself. The forest seemed quieter this morning; almost peaceful. Sort of ironic, really, Merlin thought as he retrieved his bag and cloak from the cave. The cloak was still damp, but he didn't care as he swung it over his shoulders, the material drying instantly with a flash of his eyes.
He ate quickly, just enough to keep him going throughout the rest of the day; he wasn't sure he could manage anything else.
As he trudged down the path, his thoughts once again returned to Camelot.
How was everyone fairing? Was Gaius alright after covering for him for eight years? Could Gwaine or Elyan, or even Leon and Percival begun to forgive him for what he'd done? Had Arthur even begun to realise how much truth he had told him that night? And what of dear, sweet Gwen? How would she been handling the revelation of his magic?
So wrapped up in his own thoughts, Merlin barely noticed when he crossed the border into Mercia several hours later.
And he didn't hear the footsteps drawing ever closer behind him.
A hand grasped his face, whilst another secured his chest. A second set of hands clasped cold metal to his skin, metal that immediately drained all the energy from him, leaving him feeling cold and heavy.
The hands let go of his body, and Merlin pitched forward, unconscious before he even hit the ground.
XxX
Dun dun dunnn!
Why are we so mean to poor Merlin? Oh well, the actual plot begins in the next chapter!
As always, please leave a review! What you liked, what you disliked, theories or requests for the next chapters... I'm always open to new ideas!
See you Saturday!
TTFN
Valkyriexx
