Chapter Ten.
The ground was cold and solid under his stomach, and Merlin was fairly certain a rock was buried just a few inches beneath the dirt upon which he lay. He blinked awake, and his eyes burnt slightly against the light of the crackling fire next to him. It was kept small so that they had warmth but Odin's men wouldn't find them, and the flames looked weak as they licked up towards the severely overcast sky.
Merlin looked across the fire to where Arthur had lain, and surreptitiously watched him as he drifted off, the night before. He was no longer there, and Merlin felt his stomach drop at Arthur's absence. He lifted his head up from his folded arms, which he'd used as a pillow, and scanned the small area quickly. Arthur was nowhere in sight.
Merlin supposed he should have expected that.
Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement. He craned his neck in that direction swiftly to find Arthur returning to the fire from between two trees. He stopped walking when he realized he's startled Merlin, and flashed him almost apologetic eyes.
"You look like a hunted deer, Merlin," Arthur droned and began walking again. Dangling from his fist were two short, black adder snakes. They were dead, their heads cut off. In his other fist, he held two long sticks.
"You stayed," Merlin said. He hadn't meant to do so aloud, but he was too surprised to hold it in.
Arthur merely glanced at him before taking a seat across the fire. "I considered leaving. Twice, actually." He used his sword to cut a slit in one of the snake's skin before working on pulling it off.
"I'm glad you didn't," Merlin admitted. He rolled over and sat up, instantly feeling the muscles in his neck tighten and protest. He tried stretching to loosen up but eventually gave it up as a bad job. He focused instead on Arthur, watching him struggle to separate this skin from the meat.
"What's that?" Merlin asked, his face already crumpling in disgust. He thought he knew the answer.
"Breakfast," Arthur answered tersely.
Merlin had been afraid of that. "Snakes?"
Arthur sighed, becoming frustrated when his gloved fingers slipped. "You're the one who was complaining about being hungry last night. These were all I could find."
It was true. Merlin's stomach had long ago given up on growling, and he was pretty sure it had started digesting itself instead.
Arthur's fingers slipped again, and he emitted an aggravated groan and rubbed at his eyes.
"Give it here," Merlin said, reaching over the small fire to put Arthur out of his misery.
"I've got it!" Arthur snipped, holding the snake further out of Merlin's reach.
Merlin exhaled patiently through his nose and redoubled his offer. "At the rate you're going, we'll be here until nightfall."
"Then, you do your own," Arthur told him, picking up the other headless snake from beside him and tossing it at Merlin's face. Merlin scrambled to catch it as it fell into his lap. "You're not my servant anymore, Merlin."
"I'm always going to be your servant, Arthur."
He held out his palm again.
Arthur stopped what he was doing to regard Merlin, and his face was much softer than it had been a moment ago. After a pause, his eyes flickered away and he nodded. He dropped the snake in Merlin's hand, and Merlin immediately started peeling. Arthur huffed at how easy he made it look.
After he'd skinned and gutted the meat, Merlin wrapped it around the two sticks and roasted them over the flames. As he watched it sizzle, he realized that he wasn't looking forward to eating it at all. He didn't know if he could psychologically stomach it, even though his actual stomach was rumbling again from the wafting scent and the promise of being fed. He wondered how snake would taste. He imagined it would be essentially like eating an oversized worm, except with a tough and stringy consistency. It made him think back to the time he tried to feed Arthur stew made from a rat, and Arthur having him eat it instead.
His lips twisted as he tried not to grin. He wondered if this would just be another moment they'd laugh about one day.
He hoped so.
When the meat looked prepared enough, he passed one of the sticks to Arthur, who immediately began chomping. Merlin, however, looked down at the meat with his nose wrinkled. He brought it to his lips, but hesitated. Mentally pepping himself, he succeeded in taking a bite on his second try.
It tasted exactly as he thought it might, which wasn't entirely awful; it might have been the notion of eating a snake that put him off. He tried not to gag as he chewed around it, and he must have been making a sourly unhappy face because Arthur was chuckling.
"That is disgusting," he complained after forcing himself to swallow.
"Most people would say it tastes like chicken," Arthur said before taking another bite. Merlin pulled another disgusted face just at the sight of it.
"It does not!" he argued. "That's just something people say when something tastes awful but they have to eat it anyway! This—," he brandished the stick, "—tastes nothing like chicken."
Arthur shook his head, still laughing. "Well, you haven't changed a bit," he said, raising his brows in incredulity as he noshed some more.
"No, I told you so. Same old Merlin."
"That's a shame."
Merlin puckered his lips to the side to show he wasn't amused, but he recovered quickly and focused on preparing himself to take another bite.
When he did, he decided to speak around it in hopes that it would delude the taste. It didn't.
"Who's my replacement, anyway?"
Now, Arthur looked like he'd tasted something sour. He rolled his eyes. "George," he said, somehow able to relay every negative emotion he felt towards the man in a single syllable.
Merlin gritted his teeth, half in empathy and half in mocking. "Still dull as ever?" he asked.
"More so, if that's possible," said Arthur, "but, I'll admit, he's good at what he does. He never deviates from his schedule. He does everything I ask—"
Merlin opened his mouth to fight that point, and Arthur quickly added, "without complaint."
Merlin settled.
Arthur pursed his lips in thought. "He's predictable."
Merlin tsked, shaking his head. "See, that's boring. You must hate him."
"I think he hates me, actually, he just won't say. But, no, no one could ever accuse you of being predictable, Merlin." He said it like it was a bad thing, and maybe it was because he averted his eyes and whispered, "A little too unpredictable, I'd say."
Merlin looked down at his lap, not knowing what to say to that, and Arthur cleared his throat. It was best to change the subject, and Merlin pondered what to say to break the tension as he chewed.
"You know," he mused, "it's not so bad once you get passed the fact that you're eating a snake."
Arthur snorted loudly, one corner of his lips curving upwards again. Merlin felt the weight in his chest lift, but he wouldn't let it show.
Light rain had been falling for quite some time now, causing a thin layer of fog, and there were no leaves left on the trees to shroud them as they hiked through the forest, careful to stay off the path. The drops clunked rhythmically as they hit the plate armor on Arthur's shoulders. It seeped through his padding and compressed his hair, leaving him chilled to the bone.
He wished he had his cloak to keep warm, but he supposed not having it was a small blessing in it's own way. If it rained for much longer, the cloak would have become a sopping weight around his neck.
He decided to get his mind off the chill through sheer willpower. He imagined warm things: horseback riding in the summer, a steaming bath, a belly full of ale and drunk laughter, or rosy cheeks after a long day of training. He thought of a fire roaring in his chambers. He thought of the blankets and furs on his bed.
That led to other thoughts as his imagination ran away from him. He pictured Merlin, under the covers, too, with the firelight outlining his features. He was wrapped around Arthur, all long limbs and a dipping neck that Arthur could line with kisses. The skin on his shoulders was balmy as Arthur danced his fingers across the constellation of freckles—
Arthur shook his head, knocking himself out of the daydream. He couldn't think such things.
He looked over his shoulder to make sure Merlin was still there, or at least that was the excuse he gave himself. He was walking quietly again; Arthur didn't even hear his boots sloshing in the mud. However, he was trailing along with his eyes cast downward. His arms were crossed tightly across his chest as he huddled in on himself. The moisture had caused the waves in his hair to flatten and his jacket to turn a darker brown.
He must have felt Arthur's eyes, because he glanced up to meet them. Realizing he was caught, Arthur immediately faced front.
"Keep up, Merlin," he said over his shoulder.
"I can hardly feel my legs," Merlin said, sniffling.
"That's because you're stick thin," Arthur told him. "I can hear your teeth chattering from here."
Merlin let out a strong breath, as though expecting to see it fog in front of his face. However, it wasn't that cold just yet.
"I suppose it's better than freezing in a cage," he said, apparently trying to look on the bright side. "At least we can keep warm by walking."
Arthur skidded slightly on a wet leaf. He had his qualms with walking, no matter what Merlin said.
"Arthur?" Merlin then asked, and Arthur eyed him from over his shoulder. "Do you really think Odin would have sentenced us to death?"
Arthur would have liked to say no. If it were any other sovereign, perhaps Arthur would have been released and threatened with war and Merlin would have been executed. However, he knew that wasn't the case this time.
"Most likely," he answered.
He wasn't sure if the sound Merlin made was a laugh or because he was cold. "That's the second time I would have been sentenced to death this month. I'm starting to make a habit of it."
"Yes, but the only difference is, Odin would have wanted to kill you," Arthur told him without really thinking. "He probably would have even enjoyed it."
It took him a moment to realize Merlin had stopped walking.
"And you didn't?" Merlin asked, sputtering slightly in the rain. "Want to kill me?"
Arthur dropped his shoulders and turned around to face him. Merlin was staring at him intently as Arthur considered his question. He thought he had wanted to kill Merlin at first. His anger made it seem like the right thing to do. But then there were those weeks without Merlin, when Arthur didn't know what he'd do if he never saw him again.
He shook his head in honesty.
Merlin did not smile. He did not nod. His eyes didn't light up. He just simply accepted it.
"That must have been hard for you," he said, and he continued walking, passing Arthur on his way.
"Me?" Arthur scoffed. He never understood Merlin when he talked like this. "You were the one condemned to die."
Merlin looked back around, his brows furrowed as though that point had never occurred to him.
"But I wasn't the one who had to make that decision," he said, and he really meant it.
Arthur blinked at him, at a loss for words. He suddenly felt a lot warmer.
Merlin nodded in the direction they'd been walking. "Come on, we'd better keep moving."
But Arthur couldn't will himself forward. He kept watching Merlin. His mind spun, but he couldn't latch onto a thought. Soon, Merlin disappeared through the trees, and Arthur hastened to follow, if only to keep him in his line of sight.
Arthur trailed after him for quite some time, until he realized the rain had stopped and they had walked at least another two miles. He peered around at his new surroundings, which looked generally the same as they had throughout: trees and rocks and rotting leaves.
Merlin stopped walking abruptly and held up his hand to quietly signal they should stop immediately. Arthur didn't see him at first and nearly knocked into him, but as soon as he had his senses went on high alert. He looked around with new purpose, searching for any movement and listening for the shuffling of leaves.
He heard voices. They were coming closer.
He quickly scouted out a large enough boulder for them to hide behind, and he started for it. He grabbed the front of Merlin's shirt as he hustled, dragging him along with his momentum until he was certain Merlin would follow. They crouched behind the rock, and Arthur dared to peer over the top as two soldiers in maroon armor came into view.
"You don't s'pose we could just find some other blonde twat and cut him up real nice so Odin won't recognize it's not him?" one of them asked the other.
"Yeah, and what happens when Pendragon gets back to Camelot and keeps on ruling?" the other reasoned. "Odin'll guess he's not dead then."
"Sir Joseph'll take care of him if he ever reaches the city, won't he?" said the first. "He ain't got his army behind him."
"He has the magician."
"You think Pendragon would fight side-by-side with a sorcerer?" The man snorted a laugh. "One of them probably killed the other after they escaped us."
Arthur looked at Merlin out of the corner of his eyes, but Merlin didn't look back. It was hard to judge his expression from the angle. Arthur collected himself and refocused on the conversation.
"Plus, I'm sure we could wrangle up a few sorcerers. Hey, we should find his sister, ay? She's been lookin' to have a go at him."
"You find Morgana Pendragon, and I'll let you have a go at me wife, how 'bout that?"
"You've got yourself a deal."
Arthur noticed that Merlin was holding up his palm in the soldiers' general direction. He waited for Merlin to reveal whatever trick he had up his sleeve to ward off their former captors.
"Bene læg gesweore," he muttered, and the light of his eyes glowed against the boulder in the close proximity.
Arthur watched him with curiosity when nothing immediately happened, but Merlin kept his palm raised. Then, the fog around them suddenly thickened. It rolled in from all sides, slowly, floating like a specter and causing the trees to look like eerie, bottomless phantoms in the gloom. It covered the ground until it became too thick and rose upward.
"What the hell's all this?" one of the soldiers said, but Arthur couldn't tell which. He could barely see them anymore. All he could make out were faint silhouettes, and the fog became as dense as clouds. It was as though Merlin had commanded all the mist in the forest to congregate on that one spot.
Merlin nudged Arthur's shoulder with his own. He was shrouded somewhat by the haze between them, but Arthur saw him nod away from where the soldiers were. Quietly, he lifted himself up from the dirt, careful to remain low, and wandered off in the direction he'd indicated. Arthur followed his lead.
And he wondered when he'd begun to trust Merlin's magic—or perhaps he was just starting to get used to the idea of it. Maybe it was even starting to make sense.
As they moved further away, the fog began to taper off, and soon there wasn't any at all. The air remained chilled and humid, but proof of it never came to fruition.
"I swear," Arthur avowed through his teeth when they were far enough away. He looked over his shoulder and glared as if the two men were on their backs. "When I reclaim Camelot, Odin will pay for this."
Merlin clicked his tongue and shook his head. "Don't be so rash," he advised.
"Rash?" Arthur shouted before remembering to keep his voice low. "He sacked my city! He kidnapped me!"
"And a fight is what he wants. You need to find a more diplomatic option," Merlin said sagely.
Arthur rolled his eyes. "He'd never go for that."
"You must make him. How will war bring about the peace you're trying to achieve?"
Arthur didn't have a good answer to that. He fell silent and let his anger pass. He knew Merlin was right, like he always was on these matters. Arthur always knew exactly what to do after talking it out with Merlin.
He shook the thoughts away, knowing he couldn't consider such things anymore. He tried not to miss Merlin too much.
Eventually, their surroundings became more familiar, and Merlin knew they'd returned to a world they recognized. However, that familiarity brought threats beyond running into Odin's men again. More perilous dangers lurked in the Valley of the Fallen Kings.
And then there was magic.
As they walked, the forest slowly became greener, full of life and leaves and grass and moss, like summer had overslept. Honeysuckle grew from the brush. The world around them was humming, and Merlin felt his magic bubbling inside of him like it wanted to leap out of his skin and mix with the forest, return to the earth. He lost sight of himself, imagining he was every crawling bug or soft fern.
He kept one eye on Arthur, who kept commenting on how peculiar such vivaciousness was, as they strode closer to the epicenter. Merlin's heart beat a little faster with each step.
When he caught sight of the source, the sun was fading in the sky, and Merlin's magic was thumping and hammering against his ribcage, desperate to be let loose.
"It's getting late. It'll be dark soon," Arthur voiced suddenly. He stopped a few feet in front a cave, whose opening was covered in bracken. Merlin stopped, too, feeling a lump in his throat, as Arthur seemed to make up his mind about something. Merlin thought he knew what it was.
Arthur started towards the mouth of the cave. "Come on," he said. "We'll make camp in here for the night."
Merlin stammered, not knowing what to say to steer Arthur away from the cave.
"Why do we need a cave?" Merlin called after him.
Arthur sighed and turned around halfway. "We're in the Valley of the Fallen Kings, Merlin," he said, gesturing around with his upturned palms. "It's not safe to sleep in the open—not to mention, it's autumn, though it doesn't look it. We need shelter. Come on."
He started walking again and Merlin had no choice but to follow.
At first, the cave was dark and the ground was slick. Merlin heard scurrying creatures all around him, mixed with an echoing drip of rainwater falling. They walked in complete darkness for a few feet until the sunlight was a pinprick behind them and Merlin saw a faint bluish glow bouncing off the rock walls far ahead.
"Do you see that?" Arthur whispered, and Merlin heard his sword unsheathed.
Merlin nodded before realizing Arthur probably couldn't see him that well in the lowlight. "Yes."
"Someone's up there," Arthur guessed. He took a step forward. Merlin grabbed his arm and pulled him back.
"No one's there," he said. "This is no ordinary cave, Arthur."
"What are you talking about?"
"It's the Crystal Cave," Merlin explained, and he saw Arthur's outline tense slightly. "We're in the birthplace of magic."
Silence fell around them, making the water drops sound louder, and finally Arthur shook his head.
"That's impossible," he decided. "My father searched for this place. He never found it."
"That's because he'd destroy it," said Merlin, not sure why he was still whispering. "Do you really think it would reveal itself to him?"
"Then why has it revealed itself to me?" Arthur countered, and Merlin didn't have a very good answer.
"You're different," was all he could come up with.
Arthur huffed. He looked back in the direction of the light. "Well, if it wants me to see it so much, I might as well."
He held out his sword, still untrusting, and Merlin took his wrist and slowly pushed it downward. Arthur looked at him in confusion, but he eventually got the message and put the sword away.
Merlin led the way. With every step, the blue glow enhanced and soon they were standing in its light. Merlin clamored up the fallen boulders into the entranceway with Arthur behind him. They stood up when they reached the top, staring off at the chasm that stretched before them.
White crystals looked like stalagmites as they protruded from the rock, each of them producing its own soft light. On the other end of the chasm, the illumination became more intense, so that nothing beyond it could be seen. It wasn't a blinding or harmful light; it was simply there.
Merlin felt his magic buzzing in his skin, like static on his fingertips. He thought he might burst.
He turned towards Arthur, whose features were tinted blue by the crystals. Merlin watched silently for quite some time. He was searching the space in awe, and Merlin couldn't stop himself from smiling softly.
Wordlessly, Merlin jumped off the boulders and into the chasm. He heard Arthur land on his feet behind him, but he was too busy walking through the array of crystals to look back again.
"Why are these here?" Arthur asked once his voice returned to him. He leaned in to inspect one of the crystals as though it might try to bite him. "What do they do?"
"Probably more than I know," Merlin told him. "But they let you see things—past, present, future." An idea struck him: "We can find out what's happening in Camelot."
He held out his palm at one of the nearby crystals and let his magic flow. He saw flashes of his life: him arriving Camelot and meeting Arthur all the way to Arthur discovering his magic. Finally, the image became steadier. It showed his friends—Gwaine, Elyan, Percival, Leon—along with more soldiers, guards, and servants in Camelot's dungeons, which were filled to the brim. He saw Gaius, confined to his chambers, as were a number of noblemen. They were all prisoners.
In another crystal, Merlin saw Gwen. She was in her chambers with two guards in maroon uniforms posted by the doors. A dark-haired man was with her, standing too close to her, and she seemed appalled by him. Merlin stepped closer to the crystal to get a better look.
"Don't look so worried, my lady," the dark-haired knight said. He dragged his knuckles across Gwen's cheek lovingly and she shot him a hateful glare before stepping back.
"I am not a lady," she told him curtly. "I am a queen, and I demand you tell me where my husband is."
The knight smirked. "He's most likely rotting in Odin's jail by now, awaiting execution."
A flicker of fear came to Gwen's eyes, but she didn't show it. "You kidnapped a king? If you think for a moment Camelot won't retaliate, you are mistaken."
"Camelot isn't Camelot anymore, my lady," he said pointedly. "It's part of Odin's territory now."
Gwen squared her shoulders. "And I suppose that makes you its new lord?" She scoffed. "If I'm to be your captive, the least you could do is tell me your name."
"Sir Joseph," he said. "Lord Joseph now."
The image faded, and Merlin immediately turned to Arthur. He wasn't sure if Arthur had seen the same thing.
But Merlin forgot the urgency of the news when he saw Arthur staring hard into one of the crystals. Merlin could not see any image swirling in it, but Arthur looked captivated and far away, like he was dreaming. His eyes were big and red rimmed and his lips parted as he let out a shaky sigh.
"Arthur?" Merlin asked gently. He stepped forward and touched Arthur's arm, rousing him from the trance. Arthur swallowed hard and looked at Merlin like he'd never seen him before.
"What is it?" Merlin asked. His stomach squirmed. "What did you see?"
For a moment, Arthur continued to only stare at him, until he said in a voice so low it might have been a breath, "You."
Merlin looked at him in mystification, but Arthur didn't elaborate. Shaking the thought away, Merlin strengthened his grip on Arthur and led him towards the exit.
"Let's get out of there," Merlin comforted. "It can be overwhelming if you don't know how to control the crystals."
Arthur nodded in agreement as they headed towards the fallen boulders.
Merlin scratched the rocks together again, and this time he lost control of the movement and scraped his knuckle. No sparks came of it, and Merlin grunted in frustration down at the kindling.
Dropping the rocks, he held his palm over the twigs and said, "Forbearnan." His eyes glowed, but the fire did not. The kindling only smoked in weak puffs before even they died away. Merlin tried the spell again, aware of Arthur watching him, but he didn't care. He was wet and freezing.
"It's no use, Merlin," Arthur groaned upon Merlin's third try. "The kindling is too damp. It would be too smoky, anyway. We don't want bandits to find us."
Arthur looked around to make sure no said bandits were in the vicinity. When he was satisfied, he looked back to Merlin.
"Well, it's cold," Merlin complained. "And we don't have a cave to give us shelter."
He thought it was best to take Arthur as far from the Crystal Cave as possible, and Arthur didn't speak a word against it. However, he did freeze slightly at the mention of the cave. He began inspecting Merlin with narrowed eyes.
"Did you really do all those things?" Arthur asked suddenly. "For me?"
Merlin shook his head, not knowing what Arthur meant.
"In the cave," Arthur explained, "I saw . . . everything. Was it all true?"
Merlin shrugged and looked down at the twigs, suddenly coy. "Some of them, I've done already," he said, and he summoned enough courage to look at Arthur through his lashes and smirk. "Maybe some things, I have yet to do."
Arthur didn't return his smile, but his expression was soft.
"Then, you might be the best servant I've ever had," Arthur said, sounding light.
Merlin snorted. "Oh, I'm your servant again, am I?"
Arthur raised both brows, and Merlin took the rocks in his hands again and struck them together, just to have something to do.
Yawning, Arthur laid down on the damp moss, both hands folded under his cheek. He watched Merlin play with the rocks for about a minute before saying, "Would you stop that? We can keep warm in other ways."
Merlin wasn't sure why, but his stomach did a flop. He looked at Arthur tentatively.
"Come here," Arthur said, holding one arm out to invite Merlin in.
"Arthur—," Merlin began sternly, but Arthur interrupted him.
"Do you want to freeze to death in your sleep? No? Well, I don't either, so come on."
Merlin bit his bottom lip in trepidation. Part of him thought this was some kind of joke or test. He looked around to make sure no one was about to pop out and yell surprise, or kill him. When he was sure there was no one, he steeled himself and stepped over the kindling to where Arthur was laying. A little awkwardly, he fit himself into Arthur, Merlin's back pressed against his chest, and Arthur folded his arm over Merlin's waist.
Arthur's heart was beating a little faster than normal. Merlin felt it pulsing against his spine. It made him have to bite back a smile in how right it all felt. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine that he was in Arthur's bed, lying under the sheets in the early hours before dawn.
Arthur's boot snaked between Merlin's, and he wrapped their ankles together.