Chapter 6 - Second Breath
Merlin stared at the treetops for a long time. There was nothing more fascinating than the silhouettes of the branches flying in the wind, creaking as they hooked into each other, and the leaves quivering in the light breeze. He felt light-headed. The beating of his heart matched the beating in the earth for a while and Merlin almost enjoyed the harmony of it. He might have a fever again, but he couldn't make himself care. He forced himself to close his eyes for a while, surprised that they suddenly filled with tears.
He had no idea where Arthur was or whether he was planning to come back. He understood Arthur's reaction - he almost wished he didn't, because it didn't ease his own feeling of betrayal, but Arthur had suffered at the hands of his family and friends more than he ever suffered from his greatest enemies. And Merlin had a great part in that, too.
He didn't want to think about that now. He knew that things would clear once they had time for a proper talk, but now he couldn't do more than wait till Arthur calmed down, even if it was only a temporary solution.
He opened his eyes again, trying to distract himself from his thoughts by staring at the hypnotic waving of the branches.
Hearing a distant swirling in the leaves, Merlin lifted his head, awaiting Arthur. His vision blurred for a moment, but after a few quick blinks, Merlin knew that whatever was moving in the shrubs was certainly not Arthur, maybe not even a human being.
He leaned on his left elbow, holding his breath as the world around him turned black for a moment. His eyes scanned his surroundings. Nothing happened and Merlin started to think that it was his own mind playing tricks on him. The hum from the ground grew louder, turning into a distinctive sound of horses stomping the ground. White mist emerged between the trees and at the moment Merlin thought he saw a silhouette of a horse on his back legs, a voice came from the opposite direction.
He turned his head. It was Arthur.
Merlin's eyes immediately shifted back to the place where the movement appeared, but there was no trace of whatever had been there before. Not sure what he'd just seen, he breathed out and leaned his back on the tree again, slightly shaken.
Arthur seemed to notice Merlin's insecurity and looked in the same direction, but when he was sure there was nothing to fear, he decided not to mention it. He knelt down to the servant, smiling.
"I brought you this," he said proudly, holding out strawberries lying on a few layers of maple leafs.
Merlin frowned and averted his face slightly. "I'm not hungry."
"Good. Because if you were, this won't be much of a help," Arthur brought his hand closer to the warlock's face. Merlin shook his head and closed his mouth tightly as if afraid Arthur would force the strawberries down his throat.
"Come on," Arthur encouraged him, "you need to eat something. Or do you want me to chew them for you?"
Merlin's frown deepened. "You're... gross," he growled after a while and looked at the handful in Arthur's palm. Eventually, he decided that though he had no appetite whatsoever, tasting them wouldn't harm him.
"What I said to you..." Arthur started, watching Merlin eating one strawberry after another. "I made a promise and I'm going to keep it."
Merlin's eyes dropped, but he didn't say anything and Arthur sighed silently. Time and again he'd lost somebody he was not prepared to let go of. The fact that magic was involved put all his senses on alert. It was almost like his prejudice was so deep inside him, that a mere decision, no matter how sincere, couldn't be enough to make a real change. But he knew it didn't justify his childish behavior. He shouldn't have left Merlin alone.
"And I do trust you, Merlin," he looked at his friend with uncertainty, scanning his face. "I trust you with my life... it's just..."
Merlin suddenly met his gaze.
"I may find it a bit difficult to trust you with yours," Arthur smiled nervously after the words, wondering if they made the slightest bit of sense.
The warlock understood that Arthur had taken a shortcut when he accepted him with his magic. But though Merlin felt a huge relief, he had to admit that it wasn't fair to Arthur. He had been dying. He'd been under pressure from his own conscience and he'd had to make peace with Merlin before he died.
"It's all right," Merlin said eventually. "If you want to keep the ban on magic, I won't stand in your way."
Arthur frowned. "What? That's not what I mean, Merlin. Why would you say that?"
Merlin was confused.
Arthur's eyes shifted somewhere between the trees. Looking into Merlin's eyes made it suddenly difficult to speak. "If anything happens to you, there is no way I would be able to make things right."
"I'm not the only sorcerer in the land, you know?" Merlin smiled mockingly.
"Maybe," Arthur paid the smile back, "but you're the only one I can trust."
Merlin looked at him for a while. Arthur's words made him wonder whether he should tell him about the strange shaking of the ground he felt. It suddenly made him realise that trust was still a question for him, too.
"There's something...," he gasped, propping himself on one elbow. "I can hear something under the earth," he confessed a little faster than he was intending.
"What?" Arthur asked.
"Some noise...," Merlin added, almost wishing to take the words back. He was right. It sounded much crazier when said aloud. "These dreams I have about Camlann and the sounds are somehow connected..." he paused for a while, not able to pick up the right words.
"It's common, you know... experiencing nightmares after a battle," Arthur stated, trying to offer an explanation that was less mysterious than what Merlin suggested.
But Merlin knew it wasn't that. The look on Arthur's face was more worried than amused, but there was of both.
"Here," Merlin laid his palm on the leaf-covered ground and beckoned Arthur to do the same. Arthur's eyebrows rose in surprise at Merlin's suggestion, but he hesitantly put his hand next to Merlin's and waited.
After a few moments, it was clear that Arthur couldn't feel or hear anything unusual. "What does it sound like?" he asked eventually, trying not to take it lightly when Merlin was obviously worried.
"Horses, running... hooves stomping the ground," Merlin answered. "I'm not sure if it's a memory or a vision. Or if it's happening now."
"Now?"
"I know it doesn't make sense," Merlin admitted, "but the sound is here with us now. I can hear it as I can hear you."
The warlock closed his eyes for a while, his hand still lying in the leaves. His face showed deep focus and he was breathing shallowly and calmly, as if the breathing itself was interfering with the strange sound coming from the earth.
"Ever since I woke up, it's always the same. Just more... real," he said slowly, without opening his eyes. "Before you came, I saw them here. Horses."
Arthur frowned, the new information awakening his interest. Merlin certainly hadn't been asleep when he returned and he was more than sure he would have noticed if a group of horses came by their camp. "What do you mean by here?"
Merlin opened his eyes. "I told you I can't explain it. It's just I thought I should tell you," he said quietly. He didn't want to put more weight on Arthur's shoulders, but knowing he wasn't in a state to trust his own judgement and interpret his instincts adequately, sharing it with Arthur was the least he could do. He didn't know what was happening, and something was telling him that he was missing something gravely important.
"We'll get to Camelot soon. If it your dreams haven't stopped haunting you by then, I'm sure Gaius will figure out something," Arthur finished, sounding more confident than he actually felt.
...
Arthur walked around the camp, not far from Merlin, but far enough to make himself believe that he was alone. It was only now, when their return to Camelot became critical, that he realised he was subconsciously trying to make their journey longer, stopping every few hours and resting a little more than was necessary. Of course, Merlin needed to rest, but Arthur knew that the warlock was eager to get back and willing to give up his comfort in exchange for an early reunion with Gaius.
The truth was, he knew very little of what was happening in the castle. Both he and Merlin could have easily been presumed dead or at least missing after such a long time, no matter if Gaius managed to inform Guinevere about their whereabouts or not. His enemies were undoubtedly awaiting the result of the battle at Camlann and even though they had won, Camelot was seriously weakened after the exhausting fight. On top of that, Arthur had only a vague idea of the casualties and knew very little about the condition of his knights.
"Arthur-"
The sudden rustling in the scrubs made him jump. He turned around, his sword ready for defence, panic washing over him when he thought the mercenaries had changed their minds.
"Percival!" Arthur exclaimed.
"Sire," the knight bowed his head slightly as Arthur shook his hand and patted his shoulder.
"What are you doing here? Where are the rest of you?" Arthur asked, frowning in concern.
Percival remained silent for a while, avoiding the king's gaze as his words filled him with a sadness of another kind. The rest of them - who was that anymore? He swallowed hard a few times, his eyes resting on Merlin's prone body not far from their position. It was a reaction Arthur would never expect from any of his knights, especially not Percival. He was always self-composed and straightforward. Arthur couldn't help but notice after a few moments, that his knight was barely holding himself together.
"What happened?" Arthur asked.
"Gwaine," it was barely a whisper but it cut through Arthur's chest like a dagger. Percival still refused to look into his eyes, but the silence that followed spoke for itself. Gwaine was dead.
...
Merlin was asleep when Arthur and Percival returned to their camp and sat down by the fire. They talked quietly; Percival seemed exhausted and they were trying to protect Merlin from the cruel truth as well. Arthur could hardly stay composed when Percival told him about Eira's betrayal and the circumstances of Gwaine's death. He was shocked how deeply Morgana's evil reached. Even though they'd uncovered Eira's treachery in time, the wheel of Morgana's devious plan was still turning.
When Arthur told Percival about Merlin's sacrifice and the death or the Great Dragon, the knight seemed unmoved, as if he was too tired to feel the true weight of the words. Even mentioning Merlin's magic couldn't force a reaction from him, apart from a slight nod.
"She carried a Nathair," Percival said eventually, his voice solemn. "We dispatched her men, but Gwaine-"
Arthur froze when he realised what was Percival trying to say. That was how Morgana had known their location.
"I will accept any punishment, my lord," Percival said resolutely.
"What are you talking about?"
"We acted behind the queen's back, my lord. We didn't ask for her permission and we recklessly endangered your life... and the lives of our friends. We... I committed treason," he said monotonously as if he already sentenced himself many times in his mind.
"Treason is plotting against the Crown. Your aim was to... " Arthur broke off for a moment.
"Was revenge," Percival said carefully. "Not justice, but revenge."
Arthur knew what led Percival to such way of thinking. It was guilt. He also knew that it wasn't in Percival's nature to seek out such danger, that it had been Gwaine's idea and Percival felt responsible for him and so had accompanied him on his suicide mission to destroy Morgana.
Gwaine's death must have been the worst punishment of all. Despite the fact Percival had lost his best friend, he had enough sense of justice that he willingly gave himself up to Arthur's judgement. It was an action worthy of the knight of Camelot.
"I'm not punishing you, Sir Percival," Arthur said. "That is my final decision. Let us not speak of it again."
Percival's eyes dropped, and he nodded slightly.
"You don't have a horse," Arthur wanted to change the subject. He couldn't hide the hint of hope in his voice; a horse would certainly help them now. At least Percival carried his sword and he could see a knife in his boot and a water skin behind his belt. It wasn't much, but it was something.
"I rode fast... without pause," Percival's voice was broken. With his ashen face and sunken shoulders, he didn't look much like himself anymore. His head was bent and whenever he looked at Arthur, his eyes reflected the deep sorrow of his heart. "The horse couldn't hold such pace... became exhausted... I had to leave it... run a few miles, until I found you."
Arthur was watching his knight closely, trying to read between the lines. It was hard to accept the state Percival found himself in. He would never have believed, that a man of such composure and strength could come so close to breaking. Percival was one of his toughest knights, and not only in terms of his physical strength. All the members of his family had been killed by Cenred. Arthur believed that after such a blow, there was nothing in this world that could bring Percival down.
"I knew I couldn't be in time," the knight added and Arthur noticed a single tear that fell into the grass. He understood that Percival felt personally responsible for Gwaine and that he would have done anything to stop Morgana from reaching them.
By the time they'd both told their stories, it was obvious the knight was completely exhausted, both physically and emotionally. They both needed time to process all that had been said, and neither Percival nor Merlin was in a state to move on.
"Take some rest," Arthur said, knowing that above all else, his knight needed some time alone. "I'm gonna try to catch us some food."
The knight only nodded without looking at Arthur. He wiped away the tears in a mechanical gesture and leaned his back against a tree, next to Merlin's restless body. He fell asleep immediately.
...
"I've seen at least four troops of bandits and a few Saxons," Percival stated, sitting by the fire to enjoy the meal Arthur prepared for them. The warlock was still asleep, though he was restless and clearly haunted by his dreams. Arthur understood by now that it was best to put a hand on his shoulder and let him sleep. Merlin always managed to calm down like that, though the peace was usually short-lived.
"I'm not sure it is wise to stay in one place for too long," the knight said, after a generous bite of the roasted rabbit.
Arthur nodded when he returned to Percival. "We've met one group too. They seemed a little too friendly."
Percival stopped eating for a moment, not understanding the king.
"They were wounded and starving... wanted to join me," Arthur explained.
"Wonders never cease," the knight noted, resting his sight on the warlock for a while. "You think the troops are fighting against each other?"
"It wouldn't surprise me," Arthur confirmed. "They are like wild dogs unleashed, sniffing around to find a new master."
"We should tell him," Percival nodded towards Merlin.
Arthur swallowed the bite. He knew how fond Merlin was of Gwaine. They were better friends that Arthur could ever be with his knights.
"I'll tell him," he said eventually, "at the right moment."
"Merlin's lucky to have you," Percival said. He couldn't help but notice that Arthur's approach toward his servant hadn't changed. He understood that Merlin saved his life and did more than was ever required from a servant, but still, Arthur was a proud man and Merlin's secret must have hurt him badly.
"We are all lucky to have him," Arthur corrected. He didn't miss the unspoken question that hung over them, Percival's look gave him away.
"You don't seem-" the knight noted carefully.
"I'm not," Arthur cut him off.
"Apologies, my lord," the knight said humbly, "It's none of my business."
"No need to apologize. Merlin's your friend. I understand," Arthur said, thinking how to explain the attitude that Percival found confusing. "In the face of death, some issues, once overwhelming, seem small. I cannot be cross with him. Not after what he's done for Camelot."
"He saved your life," Percival said.
"Far more than that. And yet," Arthur smiled, "Merlin would never use his magic against me."
The knight nodded.
"You're right. We should move," Arthur said after a while. "If nothing surprises us, we can get home by tomorrow noon."
But before Arthur could get his legs under him, Merlin suddenly shifted with a pained gasp. Arthur and Percival jumped to his side in an instant, looking in the confused eyes of their friend. Drops of sweat sparkled on his forehead and his eyes were unfocused under heavy eye-lids, almost as if he was still trapped in the dream.
"Come on," Arthur said, gently squeezing his shoulders, but when it was clear Merlin had managed a firmer grasp of reality, he helped him to sit up. The warlock obeyed with a silent grunt, briefly noticing Percival standing behind the king.
"It was just a nightmare," Arthur repeated, presuming Merlin's dream was about Camlann. He was shaking all over, hands convulsively clenching the sleeves on Arthur's upper arms and breathing so harshly, that Arthur found himself attempting to breathe in Merlin's stead or at least show him how to do it.
"It's not a dream," Merlin disagreed, turning his head quickly as if he was trying to shake off the nightmare.
"What do you mean?" Percival asked.
Merlin's breathing quickened. "It's an army," he stuttered through his clattering teeth. "I saw a crest. It's Essetir."