Through the Trees Chapter 4: A Treaty and an Alliance, a merlin fanfic

*sidhe- pronounced 'shee'- old gaelic for the fairy people, from which the Druids were believed to be descended

Chapter Four: A Treaty and an Alliance

In this world full of fear, full of rage and lies
I can see the truth so clear in your eyes
If I never knew you I'd be safe but half as real
All they'd leave us were these whispers in the night
And still my heart is saying we were right
'If I never Knew You' - Pocahontas OST

"You don't like my plan, do you?"

Lifting her chin from her knees, folded neatly against her chest, Aven tore her gaze away from the heat of the fire and into Merlin's cool, blue eyes. He didn't seem offened, just a little sad, as though he only wished he could do more. Unsure how to react, she offered a shrug before turning back to the flames.

"It does not matter what I think." She grumbled, her unaffected words a poor attempt to try and brush the matter away. The boy beside her only chuckled softly.

"I know you were looking forward to hurting a few of us…you can hit me if you like." He offered, spreading his arms out and turning to her, as though fashioning himself into a target. Reluctantly, Aven gave up a soft laugh, shaking her head as she turned away from him again to stoke the fire. Beside her, Merlin wondered if his rapidly beating heart could be felt in the air by her kind. Not that he could help it. Making her laugh had sent him soaring.

"I might, if it weren't your last night among us."

He'd been so focused on ensuring success for the Dryads, on saying the right things to the King (or more likely Arthur, as his father was too afraid to ever leave his castle walls) to convince him that warfare could be avoided, Merlin had not stopped to think what lay after the fact. Surely, he would be carried away by the King's men, swept up in a parade of war stallions and clanking armor, never to set eyes on Aven again. The sudden realization jerked at the peace he'd found amongst her people, threatening its foundations.

"It's alright," She offered, getting up from their place by the great fire that continuously burned at the center of the village. "We were fine before you, I'm sure we'll be just as well after."

With a soft smile that really could have passed for genuine, she ran a hand through his thick, dark hair as he looked up at her from the ground. He wasn't sure what to say or how to say it. Nothing could change the fact that he was leaving and to be honest, he hadn't even known she cared either way. As she made her quiet way back to the hut, he hesitated for a moment, knowing he was going to screw this up somehow (he'd never been very good with women). But as she disappeared behind the thick bearskin that served as a door, he realized making a fool of himself had to be better than not going after her at all.

"Aven!" He called, jogging to her house and bursting in with his usual lack of grace. "Aven, you have to understand"-

"You think I don't understand?" She laughed darkly from behind the changing screen and his shoulders sunk at the cynical tone of her voice. "The part that hurts the most is how much I do understand."

"But…I don't." He grappled around for the right words, entirely lost as to how he was supposed to express the jumbled mass of emotions floating around between his ears. "I mean, there are men coming tomorrow. Lots of them, weapons ready and minds bent towards destroying you and your home. All we can do is pray that they will listen and I…I'm terrified. I'm really not sure I can do this and the thought of what might happen if I don't…and you're angry with me because I'm leaving?"

"I'm not angry with you." She grumbled, strutting past him on her way to the chest that held her clothes so she could fold and put away the tunic and breeches she had worn that day. Around her figure now fell a loose night shift the color of eggshells, bringing out the amber in her hair, the green in her eyes. For a glimmer of a moment, he was sure she could have passed for a birch tree in autumn. "I'm just not thrilled about the fact that in exchange for threatening our life, your King gets both the food of our forest as well as you."

The words surprised him into silence at first he studied her, wondering if he'd even heard her right. Finally, he began to feel capable of words again.

"And…of what value am I to this realm?" Even as he spoke, it was a struggle to keep his voice even. But for all his curiosity and even hope, he managed it in the end. Turning from the chest, she rose and regarded him for a moment before sighing and taking a seat atop the wooden trunk.

"I've never met a human who appreciates our land so much. Who not only understands, but wants to understand. I wish you could see the wonder in your eyes when I explain the slightest things, things everyone I know takes for granted, even the trees. To see that look on your face, to feel the passion for everything I love emanating from your skin…that is worth a thousand wars."

Taking a seat beside her, he held her hands in his as he folded his legs and turned to face her.

"All of that should assure you that I don't want to leave. Maybe I can work something out with Arthur; maybe I can convince him to let me stay."

She only shook her head, but (though she tried) seemed unable to tear her hands away from his own.

"How can you? Your people are so superstitious and afraid, they must think we have you held captive under some spell. They'll never believe you want to stay of your own free will."

"But you do have me captive." Merlin smiled his soft, boyish smile and, as she understood his meaning, Aven was helpless to stave off a smirk of her own.

"Is that so?" She lifted an eyebrow, pretending to be unconvinced.

"You've had me captive since the moment I met you." He murmured, knuckles coming up to brush her cheek. Neither of them were conscious of leaning forward until Aven's eyes flickered down to his mouth and realized that he was close enough to…

Warmth flooded through her and she felt as though it were spring and everything in the forest was opening up, waking and alive again, blossoming in her. As their mouths molded together, exploring and feeling each other out, Merlin had never felt so deeply in tune with the energy of the woods, of the starry sky that lay above them like scattered diamonds, of the fire in the middle of the village, of the wet mists that blanketed the grass and leaves. It was like, when he touched her, they sank into the entire world around them, the magic that flowed through them giving off sparks every time it brushed together.

"I don't want you to leave." She pleaded between kisses and swollen lips, all resolve to deny the truth having crumbled away.

"I'll come back." He breathed, "I swear it."

Not having the heart to reply with her doubts, she only nodded, trying to believe that she could trust him as their lips met again.

The morning was cold and as they entered the forest, Arthur's hands begining to feel stiff and numb around the hilt of his sword. But he barely even noticed, every ounce of concentration fixed to the trees around them. Before long he spotted the tracks of his soldiers, only a few days old and easily distinguishable from Merlin's, owing to his lack of armor. Trying to ignore the pang of guilt that gripped his stomach, he led the knights on in silence.

Ordering his men to fan out along the line of tracks so that a surprise attack would be less likely, Arthur stayed dutifully along the trail of his manservant. It was slow going, clad in heavy chain mail and carrying his sword, but his resolve never wavered. The sharpness of his senses, however, were another story. Every step deeper into the forest seemed to confuse him. He would hear sounds and turn to see nothing, notice a shadow leaping between the branches and look to see only sunshine pouring through the leaves. His men insisted it was only fatigue, tricks of his mind.

But Arthur had trouble believing them. His mind didn't play tricks, not in the woods anyway. He was a born hunter and not even the King himself could cause him to doubt it. Perhaps his senses were just heightened from adrenaline, perhaps the men weren't quick enough to catch what he could, perhaps-

Suddenly, a strange sort of outline began to take shape along the crest of a nearby ridge. Narrowing his eyes, Arthur was sure at first that it was a solid line of trees. But that couldn't be right, how would their roots dig in beside each other, how would they get enough sunlight or water or….

"Merlin?" Just as the shapes came into focus as real people, he noticed one among them who had stood out from the beginning. Mostly because, well, he didn't look like a tree at all. Though, dressed in fine, clean clothes and standing up straight (almost proudly), he had been difficult to recognize at first. Arthur's sword fell to his side as he stared in confusion. His manservant certainly didn't look as though he needed saving. The little brute had him worried for nothing. "What on God's green earth are you doing?"

"The right thing." Merlin called back, his voice clear and unmistakable as it carried through the frigid morning air. "As I'm sure you will too, sire."

Looking around, Arthur sized up his manservant's companions with a warrior's mind. Tall, not much muscle, but fierce. Though he could see bows and quivers peeking out from behind many of their shoulders, none were poised to shoot and very few were carrying swords. Clearly, their formation in the middle of the wood indicated that they had known his men were coming…had they no intention of defending themselves?

"Tell your friends there that we cannot fight unarmed men, but that we will take this forest by any means necessary." He called back, already beginning to feel the dread of disappointing Uther churning in the depths of his stomach. His father would kill him if he came back with nothing to show for their efforts but Merlin.

"They are not men." The young boy assured him, as Arthur watched him from the bottom of the sloping hill, "And this is not your forest to take."

Now he was just testing Arthur's patience. Who did he think he was talking to? Had a few days spent in the woods rotted his mind?

"I assure you it is." He bit back, lips curling angrily, "The king owns whatever property falls within his realm and he shall do with it as he sees fit."

"But this is not his realm." A tall, rather intimidating woman with long golden hair stepped forward. Her hazel eyes bored into the Prince, holding him in place from over fifty yards away. It was almost as though she could see beyond his eyes and into his mind. As though he were raw and bare before her, unable to hide. And yet, though she frightened him, there was something mesmerizing about her presence as well. When she spoke, something feral within him seemed to awaken. "We do not wish to fight you. Come and rest in our village. So long as you do not harm our trees, no harm will come to you either."

As she turned her back, the rest of her people began to follow her down over the other side of the hill. Looking to his men, who were more frightened than he had ever seen them, Arthur sheathed his sword and began to follow as well. In later years, when he thought back on the moment, he couldn't be sure why or what exactly had compelled him. He just knew that his entire being had longed to go with them and he had been helpless to resist.

In the village, the people (if they could be called that) stared at him and his troops. Some looked angry, a few even scared, but most were just in awe. He could tell that they didn't trust him or his men and to be honest, he couldn't really blame them. However, it wasn't the expressions they were wearing that confused him. Arthur had little experience dealing with Druids but he knew they typically kept themselves clean, their robes long, dark and thick. They were known for their trademark tattoos, pale skin and dark hair- clues to their ancient past as descendents of the sidhe*.

But these people had no tattoos, their olive skin covered in dirt, hair colored red and yellow like the trees in autumn, bodies decorated with leaves, branches and wildflowers. Their clothes were light and pale, almost as though woven from the essence of ghosts. Their eyes as well, shone brightly all around him in contrast to the pitch blacks and muddy browns of the Druid people. But if these were not pagans…then what were they?

Following the woman who had spoken before into a hut that was larger than the others (though not by much), Arthur bid his men to stay outside and keep watch. They were not to so much as speak to these people, let alone fight them. Impressing upon them that he expected to return to as peaceful a scene as he had left behind him, the Prince left them to their duties.

Inside, the air was warm and thick with the smell of smoke from the fire that burned close to its entrance. Though the heat was a welcomed change from the unforgiving morning chill, it was also a bit stifling under all his armor. For a second, Arthur's eyes went immediately to Merlin, his first instinct to order that the servant help him out of his metal plates and chain mail. However, the boy was standing to the left of the woman who had bid him follow her here and she seemed almost protective of him. To the woman's right stood a girl, much like herself in feature and color, but far younger and (if he knew anything about women) (which he was proud to say he rather did) probably a bit feistier to boot.

"I am Estaea. Come, join us." The elder told him, her long, graceful hand urging him to take a seat across the table from where she stood. Not entirely thrilled about being bossed around by a woman (and certainly not accustomed to it), Arthur found himself unable to resist her hospitality. As he sat, so too did they. "I understand you are the son of a King."

"You mean your King?" Arthur cocked an eyebrow. Who the hell did this woman think she was? As he crossed his arms defensively, she offered only an amused smile in return.

"We do not recognize kings and queens here. But if you seek the leader of my people, you have found her. I am Estaea, High Priestess of our tribe."

"High Priestess?" He chuckled, unable to believe such ridiculousness. Who had ever heard of a female priest? "Come now, where is your husband? Should I not be speaking to the head of this house hold?"

"I am married to no one but the Earth, as the traditions of the Priestess command."

Arthur could only grimace in return. These people had chosen a nun as their fearless leader? This had to be a joke. Or perhaps, he had not even woken from sleep yet and this was all just a fantastical dream.

"This is no dream." The girl to Estaea's right told him, her green eyes digging into him with much less charm than her Lady's. Her beauty seemed diminished by her apparent ability to delve into his mind, extracting whatever thoughts she found there. These people may not have been Druids, but he was beginning to suspect they too practiced witchcraft and possibly even plotted against his father. How else had they charmed Merlin over to their side?

"Listen, I'm not sure what you're playing at, but I think it's time you returned my servant to me."

"I want to stay." The boy insisted, speaking up for the first time. Now that the trees and hills of the forest no longer separated them, Arthur could see it, could hear it in his voice. Something about Merlin had changed. The same eerie quality that clung to these people hovered around him as well.

"Here?" Arthur nearly choked, eyes growing wide. "In the forest? Are you mad? You have quarters in the King's castle!"

"And I have enjoyed my time there, but I belong here."

The young Prince could scarcely believe what he was hearing and, in his desperation, all of his father's warnings against magic came flooding back to him.

"You belong amongst your own kind!" Standing, Arthur laid his palms on the table, leaning forward into Estaea's unwavering face. "Whatever spell or enchantment of witchcraft you have placed upon him, I order you now: take it off, or so help me God"-

"He is under no spell." The High Priestess assured him. "Check our homes, our shelves and baskets. You will find no books of any kind here, let alone those needed for enchantment."

"Nonsense! The Merlin I know is devoted to me and my crown. He may be a sodding idiot, but he is nothing if not loyal."

"Why should he want to go back with you when you offer nothing but servitude and insults? At least here he is appreciated." The young girl snapped, her eyes burning with anger. Arthur nearly laughed, knowing the look well. It was the same look Morgana wore when arguing with Uther over his own well-being. A look filled equally with defensive fury and passion for another. If he didn't know any better, he would have guessed this girl had taken a rather personal interest in Merlin. However, before he could ask, Estaea raised her hands, signaling them both to end their quarreling.

"We invited you here so as to avoid conflict." She reminded them, the tone of her voice warning of the consequences that would follow should they forget again. Though there was little Arthur hated more than being patronized, he conceded a rough nod and took his seat once more. "Now, Merlin if you please?"

The boy stood and went to a nearby cabinet, pulling from the shelves a small plate of…were those berries?

"Er, I'm not hungry." Arthur lied as his manservant pushed the plate in front of him.

"Just try one." Merlin insisted, unable to resist grabbing a handful for himself before sitting back down. "I'm telling you Arthur, this is the best fruit you'll ever try."

Staring at the plate for a moment, the Crown Prince tried not to grimace. Those things didn't look normal. They were the biggest berries he'd ever seen, dyed an unnaturally attractive shade of red. How could he be sure these weren't full of whatever potion had clearly been fed to Merlin. But as the rest of the table stared at him in expectation, he realized he didn't have much of a choice. Reminding himself that he had faced far scarier and fearsome things in his time than a plate full of berries, Arthur recited a silent prayer for his soul and dove in.

"Good God! You found these in Atrum Forest?" Uther exclaimed, shocked that no one had ever told him of the berries before.

"Indeed," Arthur nodded proudly, giving Merlin a secretive glance as his father continued to stuff his face. "That was all we found."

"No Druids?" The King asked absently, studying the berries closely, trying to make sense of them. He was sure he'd never tried anything so delicious in his life. Just wait until the other Kings heard about these. Camelot would be more prosperous than ever.

"I can honestly report having met no Druids." He assured his father.

"It's odd though, the injuries to our knights and your servant having gone missing. You're absolutely sure there is no threat in the woods?"

"After careful investigation, the other knights and I have come to believe it was simply a boundary patrol of King Orrin's having wandered too far west. The trees can begin to look the same after a while, who knows what one might see after hours of wandering around?" This time, Arthur's smug smile fell to the King's left, landing on a rather amused Morgana.

She had been regaled with the true tale in hushed tones as Arthur changed in the armory just an hour before his audience with the King. Hearing that there had been no bloodshed, a new alternative to burning down the forest and best of all, the recovery of her favorite manservant, she had been ecstatic. Never in her life had she been more proud of the man she loved, or more eager to prove it to him. As he tossed the occasional glance her way, even in the courtroom, he could already tell that she was going to make getting ready for the feast that evening very difficult.

"Mmm," Uther nodded, still distracted by the berries. "Excellent, excellent. We shall have to invite him to court to make amends, in case he should think we were trying to execute a secret attack. In the mean time, I want a very specific strategy drawn up on the harvesting of these incredible berries."

"Yes father." Arthur nodded, turning to leave. He still had to talk with Merlin about how they would be gathering the berries without drawing attention to the Dryads, but there would be plenty of time for that later. He needed a hot bath and at least an hour's rest before the feast, preferably with comp-

"Oh, and Arthur?" For the first time since tasting his new favorite delicacy, the King looked up, meeting his son's eyes head on.

"Yes, father?"

"I'm very impressed with the work that you've done." Uther smiled.

"Thank you, father." He barely got the words out before turning for the door once more, a toothy grin stretching across his face.

Aww lol Stay tuned for the epilogue that'll be up in about 24-36 hours (depending on your time zone lol) Please try and leave some feedback, esp if this is on your favorites/alerts list (because I'd be inclined to believe you have feelings about the story one way or another if you want to keep up with it). Thanks to everyone who's been reading and reviewing!! I love you all :)