A/N: Hola mi amigos!
Ooh, Spanish.
So this is a new chapter, and I'm not entirely certain what to say about it because to be totally honest I feel like my new character is a bit way too unconventional and improper for this time period. I apologize for any OOCness, both here and in any past chapters, because I realize I've probably forgot to say that a lot.
I don't own Merlin.
I'm listening to Fun. right now. Some Nights. You know, I love this band, but this song just makes absolutely no sense to me. Just had to get that out there.
The first problem was deciding which way to go.
Gwaine thought they should jump right into the jaws of danger and journey east, through Cenred's bandit and mercenary-infested lands. Needless to say, Lancelot, Leon and Arthur all thought this was incredibly stupid.
Lancelot and Leon agreed that they should go back to the site of the attack and attempt to track Merlin to the site of his capture, and from there track his captors to the mysterious citadel of Caelon. All four of the men in the rescue party acknowledged that this was by far the most logical suggestion, but Arthur couldn't shake the nagging feeling out of his head that this was just too easy. His visitor had made it cryptically clear that he had to choose the hardest path, and tracking wasn't very hard.
But it was all that they had to go on, so Arthur agreed, promising in his mind that as soon as he had a choice between two paths he would choose the harder one. They set out before dawn the next day, with a fierce, determined fire in their hearts. Arthur rode in the front, dark circles under his eyes and blonde hair messy. He hadn't been able to sleep at all that night, even with the help of one of Gaius' sleeping drafts.
His mind swam with the pressure put on him. All of his advisors were more displeased than usual with him running off to save Merlin yet again, and the fact that they all knew he was chasing after a sorceress living in a magical castle did nothing to improve the atmosphere in Camelot. Gwen was worried sick, and it almost seemed as if she honestly didn't know whether or not Arthur should go after Merlin. The servant had been one of her best friends since the day he had arrived in Camelot, but Arthur was… Arthur.
As a result, the king was torn. Part of him knew he should be staying, ruling Camelot like he was meant to, but the part of him that was much more loud and annoying in his head insisted that he save Merlin.
And honestly, Arthur couldn't blame himself. For the longest time he had grown up alone but never lonely, surrounded by people and yet still isolated, without any real friends until Morgana had shown up. But even that hadn't lasted, for Morgana, knowingly or unknowingly, had come to value Gwen's companionship a lot more than Arthur's. Sure, they were still close, but that intense bond forged by coming together in times of grief and disappear wasn't quite the same anymore.
Arthur had been left alone again, until that idiot had shown up. Merlin. There was no denying the fact that Merlin was rude, useless, incompetent and an all around idiot, but he was, and had been, the best friend Arthur had ever had from the moment they were assigned to each other. It had taken both of them a long time to realize how much they needed the other, but that easy companionship between them, Arthur's unceasing exasperation and Merlin's irritatingly lovable insolence, that was something that they had both been missing for a long time in their lives, and something they had found with each other.
Both men were more than aware of how amazingly inappropriate their relationship was. But neither of them cared. Sometimes it seemed to Arthur as if there was something beyond either of their control that had brought them together, because from the start it had seemed like Merlin had been much more than a servant. The rare times when he actually seemed wise were a startling insight into what went on in his servant's mind, and they gave Arthur the eerie feeling that their entire relationship had a great deal to do with this goddamn destiny that Merlin was always going on about.
Leon's voice cut through Arthur's troubled thoughts. "Sire!" he called, a scrap of blue cloth in his hand. "Sire, they must have gone this way. It's Merlin's."
Arthur dismounted and strode across the clearing to where Leon stood. He took the cloth in his hand, his resolve hardening. "Gwaine! Lancelot! This way," he ordered, setting off.
From there things just got easier. And that was the most disturbing part. He hadn't shared the riddles with any of his nights, but Arthur knew that the whole point of this quest was to test him, to test who he was and how strong he was and how far he was willing to go. But there was no denying that Merlin had gone this way, and as uncomfortable as it was, Arthur wasn't going to let a good solid lead go to try and compensate for an obscure riddle given to him by a weird girl in a dream.
In fact, it even seemed to be going quite well until they reached a dead end.
It wasn't so much of an end, more of an abrupt 50-foot ravine. Arthur's heart leapt into his mouth as he gazed down over the edge. The bottom was swathed in an thin layer of fog, but even so it was clear that there were no bodies down there, Merlin's or otherwise. He gazed down the steep sides, picking out a path before clearing his mind and climbing down.
"Sire!"
It was Leon's voice again, pinched with worry. "Sire, you shouldn't do that," he chided, his voice sharp.
Arthur shook his head. No, he wouldn't let it get away. The others believed that they had reached a dead end, but Arthur saw it as something different. He saw it as an opening, a chance to finally delve into the quest he had undertaken. "It's fine, Leon," he called back, hoping that his voice didn't betray the nervous excitement that rattled his bones and made his legs feel like jelly with every step closer to the bottom of the ravine.
The same nervous excitement that made his heart weaken at the stains of blood on the ground, washed out, but still clearly visible. Smears of crimson, wiped across the muddy rocks. Arthur could picture it in his head, Merlin's broken body lying at an awkward angle on the bottom of the ravine, his head gushing blood and his neck snapped, his whole essence whisked away with a fall that couldn't have been more than ten seconds and a sickening thud.
The image took Arthur's breath away, and gasped for a second, shocked at the vehemence of his reaction. He knew that he and Merlin had always been close, but this… The thought of Merlin being actually, truly dead… The horror and the boiling anger in his soul, that almost scared Arthur. It made him want to tear something apart, the knowledge that there would be bandits and sorcerers evil enough to do this to someone as trusting, loyal, innocent and unfailingly good as Merlin.
But the nightmarish vision that had consumed Arthur's mind for a moment was not real. There was no broken body lying on the rocks, only a few faint splashes of blood.
Merlin had been moved, taken away. Of course, Arthur already knew this fact. He had been told in no uncertain terms exactly where Merlin was, and that he was alive, but that gave him no reassurance. All of the evidence pointed to the idea that although Merlin was alive, he was dying and injured.
And Arthur couldn't let that happen.
He had tried for a long time to believe that Merlin meant nothing to him, but now that he faced the very real possibility that he would never see his ever-faithful servant again, the feelings would not be ignored. Arthur was always stressed enough as it was, and Merlin's arrival had meant the beginning of a friendship that went much deeper than a normal friendship, and defied basically every traditional boundary.
He couldn't abandon Merlin now.
It didn't matter if he was already dead.
He wouldn't leave Merlin in whatever awful, twisted place he was in.
A voice startled him from his thoughts, and his consuming rage concerning the lost servant.
"Arthur Pendragon."
It wasn't a question. It was a statement, and the voice that said it was sultry and silky, and it made Arthur want to drop to his knees and start worshipping the ground its owner walked on. He turned around slowly, uncertain of what to expect.
It was a woman, tall and beautiful. She had hair the color of the night, a deep, rich black that shimmered with blue in the light of the day. Her eyes were the same, pools of darkness and wisdom that reflected unseen stars, seeing more than everyone. She seemed to radiate a fierce, violently compassionate golden light, and the fog gathered around them as she walked towards him.
"Arthur Pendragon," she repeated. "I have a test for you."
Arthur struggled to form a reasonably logical response in his mind, but nothing was coming. She smiled slightly. "I apologize." Her eyes blinked, and suddenly the world seemed to right itself. She was just a woman, a beautiful one, no doubt, but nothing more. "The residual magic of my mistress needs controlling at times."
The king considered this piece of information. The residual magic of her mistress. The puzzle pieces slid into place inside his head, and he smiled. This was what he had been waiting for, the tests prophesied by the dream-girl. "Very well then. What of this test?" Arthur's voice was much more eager than he had intended it to be, and he could feel the excitement bubbling up inside him.
She smiled. "My name is Rhiann. My mistress has instructed me to give you three tests, one a test of loyalty, one a test of mental strength, and the last a test of physical strength. Do you accept the challenges put before him?" The woman's voice changed to a very brisk, businesslike tone.
Arthur nodded confidently. "Of course I do. When I complete the third test, I will get Merlin back, right?" he asked, attempting to confirm it.
Rhiann hesitated. "No. The tests will grant you entry into the place where your friend is held. You must find the place and rescue him yourself," she countered, her voice thick with apologies. "I am sorry, but I can do nothing to change my mistress' decision." She gazed at Arthur with those deep black eyes. "Shall we continue?"
The news did nothing more than annoy Arthur. No amount of challenges or tests could discourage him from his goal, but there was always something, something keeping him one step away from Merlin. He nodded, his eyes dark and his expression grim. It didn't matter. Whatever it took, he would get back to Merlin.
He had promised.
"Very well. In accepting the challenges put before you, you enter into a covenant with my mistress. The terms are stated as following: You will not attempt to back away from the challenges, no matter what you may feel. Any attempts to do so will result in the immediate loss of your friend," Rhiann began.
Arthur noted how she said loss, not death. He wondered what it meant.
"Attempting to take advantage or cheat on any of the tests will have the same consequences. Do you accept these terms?" Rhiann asked, her eyes wide with anticipation.
There was nothing else he could. The choice had always been made for him. Just thinking of letting Merlin down made Arthur want to crawl in a hole and die, to never have to face the light of day and the truth that he had abandoned the first true friend he had ever had. Of course he accepted. No matter what the consequences were, Merlin had always been there for Arthur. When every other light in his life had been snuffed out by some cruel trick of fate, Merlin had been there. Always there, ever faithful. Although it pained Arthur to admit it, Merlin was his rock, his confidant, his most trusted advisor. The king couldn't count the times his friend had warned him against something, been scorned for his attempts to aid Arthur and turned out to be right.
But no more.
No more.
This time would be different.
Arthur would be there for him. Arthur would be the light in the dark, he would repay some of the irreplaceable kindnesses that Merlin had always given to him without ever asking for anything in return.
It was time to be the friend that Merlin had always been for him.
"Of course," Arthur consented, his throat dry and his voice raspy. "Of course I do." He shot a cautious glance up at the top of the ravine. "But what of the knights?"
Rhiann smiled. "My mistress' magic is very powerful. All of Albion is held in a stasis while you attempt the tests," she explained, practically radiating pride for her mysterious mistress. "Shall we begin?"
Arthur swallowed his pride and his fear. For Merlin, he reminded himself. He nodded, trying desperately to push down the rising sense of panic in his throat. He had to be strong, he needed to be strong, how could he do anything if this scared him half to death?
"Very well. This first test is a test of loyalty and knowledge, and it will entail a few questions. Answer them truthfully, Arthur Pendragon, and to the best of your ability," Rhiann instructed, her eyes glinting with anticipation. "The first question is, do you know Merlin?"
The question took Arthur by surprise. Truthfully, he had been expecting a game of wit and smarts, and this question had him drawing a blank. After a moment of silent astonishment, a painful anger began to boil up inside of him. How dare this impudent sorceress think he didn't know Merlin! The servant was the best friend Arthur had, and Arthur knew absolutely everything about Merlin. There was nothing he didn't kno—
Arthur's angry thoughts faltered. Did he know Merlin? They spent almost all their time together, but did he actually know his friend? There was no way of getting around the fact that Merlin knew Arthur better than Arthur knew himself, but Arthur…
Arthur didn't know Merlin.
At least not as well as he believed he did. The foolish servant had put the king's life ahead of his own so many times, but at the end of the day Arthur had absolutely no idea what Merlin's life was like outside of Arthur. He didn't even know if the boy had a life outside of his work. Arthur shared everything with Merlin, and he felt a slight pang of regret that he had never tried to get Merlin to reciprocate, to attempt to know his best friend as well as said friend knew him.
There was nothing for him to say except the truth. Arthur would love to be able to say that he knew Merlin inside out, that there were things that never needed saying because of the bond that they shared. And it was true, they did share a bond, but despite their strong relationship there was nothing truly personal about Merlin that Arthur knew.
"No."
That one word held so much force behind it, so much anger and regret and such a deep, burning sadness and disappointment with himself that Arthur had never so much as attempted to get to know Merlin a bit better.
Rhiann smiled, and even without the bewitching, magnetic glow that she had called the residual magic of her mistress, the misty ravine seemed to light up. "You told the truth, Arthur Pendragon. I did not expect that from you." She paused, studying him with a piercing gaze that made Arthur feel very uncomfortable. "There is one more question I must ask you, and this one, you must answer truthfully, to the best of your ability. I may not be able to discern the truth from the lies as they might be very similar in this case, but be warned, Arthur Pendragon, my mistress knows all." The whole world seemed to hold its breath as she hesitated again.
"How far are you willing to go?"
A/N:
…
Blargh.
Alsuehvlkhkrhkrmaljvhr in my opinion that could have gone quite a bit better. I know I said it at the beginning but Rhiann is just…
I can't figure out a way to get her to do this while still being cryptic but friendly and she's the enemy but Arthur just thinks she's the kind of person to be trusted and she's being all mysterious concerning her mistress (who I'm pretty sure you know who it is) and I just can't get my mind to work in a way that fits the enigmatic air of the situation surrounding Rhiann and her mistress and this whole test business and Arthur's thoughts and it's making me really frustrated.
Because in my mind it's just not coming out right.
Reviews, positive and negatory (negatory?), are love, as is anything else.
Until next time, my lovelies!
