This chapter was fun to write, I really got to let my imagination run wild so I hope you like it!
Once again thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed, favorited, followed, and even just read my story, I'm indebted to you all!
By the time the sun set Arthur had reached an ancient, evil-looking field of thorns, they were taller than he was on horseback but in the distance he could faintly see a pure ivory tower rising out of the tangled mess. He quickly made camp deciding to rest for the night and attack the thicket in the morning. Gaius had said that it would take more than physical strength to reach the tower and he couldn't afford to rush into things without preparing himself. He would only get one chance at this and, with any luck, he would reach the tower by nightfall tomorrow.
Arthur awoke to the sound of birdsong, an ironic accompaniment to the challenge he would face. Turning to look at the thicket in the light of day he cringed thinking about fighting his way through the web of tangled branches studded with three-foot thorns that protruded at every angle, but after a quick breakfast he unsheathed his sword and doggedly started hacking his way through the impenetrable mass before him.
It was slow going and Arthur lost his patience quite a few times, screaming in frustration as a particularly difficult branch refused to break before the weight of his sword. No matter how many times he cleared the path ahead, hoping for some sign of an end to the interminable field, there was always another even denser jumble of branches blocking his way.
He wiped the sweat off his forehead, wishing he'd had the foresight to bring more water; he'd finished what little he'd had in his water skin hours ago and his throat was so parched that he was reminded of the time when Camelot's water store had turned to sand. The air was thick with dust and it coated everything with a light brown film that was making it increasingly difficult to breath.
He turned around, trying to judge how far he had come, and immediately had to swallow down a wave of panic that sent his heart leaping into his throat. Instead of the ragged trail of broken thorns he'd expected to see there was a wall identical to the one in front of him. Chopping experimentally at one of the branches he waited, heart thudding wildly in his chest, as it remained detached for a few moments, then grew back, stronger and more gnarled than before.
Pushing down his fear he faced forward again and resumed his attack on the thicket. He would have to keep going, no matter how tired or thirsty he became because going back was obviously not an option. He hadn't fully realized the implications of Gaius' cautionary words before but now he understood how incredibly easy it would be to get lost in the mass of thorns and never find his way out.
He had no way of knowing how much time had passed because the twisted canopy of branches over his head blocked out most of the light but the weary king finally sensed that he was making progress. He couldn't see the tower from within his cocoon of thorns but the branches seemed to be getting marginally thinner and flashes of brilliant color began to appear through the gaps in the thorns. With a mighty heave Arthur sliced through the last barrier and stumbled out into a beautiful meadow carpeted with wildflowers of every color. The tower stood in the middle of the field, it's pure white stone almost blinding in the sunlight.
Blinking as his eyes adjusted Arthur stared around in wonder; the valley was gorgeous, by far the most beautiful place he'd ever seen; it was bordered on three sides by mountains so tall their snow-capped peaks almost disappeared into the flawless azure sky. A sparkling lake with water so clear he could see every pebble that lined the bottom lay on the far side of the valley and, as he watched, a hawk dropped out of the sky, diving towards the water to catch a fish with its sharp talons. A gentle breeze brushed past the king, ruffling his hair, and he closed his eyes, breathing in the fresh scent of the cool air.
"Beautiful, isn't it." Came a voice from behind him.
Starting Arthur whirled around. "Father?"
"Arthur." Uther replied, striding towards his son with open arms. "I have missed you."
Slightly wary Arthur accepted his father's embrace, then pulled back, "I've missed you as well but how is it that you are here?"
"This is the Valley of Shadows," Uther explained, looping an arm around Arthur's shoulders, unable to resist the opportunity for physical contact with the son he'd thought he would never see again, "here the veil between worlds is the thinnest and the spirits of the dead are able to move freely between them. Tell me, how are you? How has Camelot faired in my absence?"
"I am well," Arthur replied, "and Camelot has prospered almost beyond belief. It is my greatest hope that one day the lands of Albion will be united in peace and I strive towards that goal with everything I do."
"A worthy ambition." Uther said, taking his son's hand in his own and pulling him towards a small hut that had escaped Arthur's notice until now. "Come, we have so much to catch up on."
"I…" Arthur began, staring back and forth between his father and the tower rising in the distance, indecision evident in his clear blue eyes. In his youth there had been nothing he'd sought more fervently than his father's love, acceptance, and approval; over the years that desire had faded but it sparked to life again, burning as brightly as it ever had and he was loath to pass up this chance to reconnect with the man. On the other hand, Merlin needed help and the answer to finding his missing manservant lay in the tower. Somehow he knew that he would not be able to have both, he was being forced to choose between the two so, making up his mind, he tried to pull his hand free of his father's grasp.
Uther tightened his grip on his son, "You would choose a simple servant over me, your own father?" he thundered, eyes burning with anger. "I thought you would have listened to at least some of what I taught you! I have never been more disappointed to call you my son."
"Father…" Arthur pleaded, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes as his father's words cut him to the quick.
"No Arthur, I'll not listen to any of your pathetic excuses, it's obvious you find this Merlin more important than me, I should have disposed of him long ago."
"What?!" Arthur cried in disbelief, stunned by his father's callousness.
"I knew," Uther said, eyes brimming with disgust, "when you defied my orders to save that pitiful wretch after he drank the poison, I knew that he would be nothing but trouble. Look what he has done to you, it's almost as if you've been enchanted, you're a king and yet you are willing to risk your life for that of one who is worth less than the dirt on the bottom of your boots!"
"Merlin is worth far more than you could ever dream, father!" Arthur shot back, finally finding his voice, "He continues to prove himself loyal to a fault and has been invaluable to me these last few years; he has show incredible insight in a number of situations and holds my complete trust, I could not ask for a better advisor or friend."
"Ha." Uther replied dryly, laughing without mirth. "So this is what the kingdom I worked so hard to build has come to. My son has taken a serving girl for his queen and my once proud realm is governed on the thoughts and opinions of a base-born peasant rather than the wisdom and experience of the council. Under your guidance Camelot has become the laughingstock of Albion!"
"ENOUGH!" Arthur shouted as he wrenched his hand free of his father's now painful grip. He couldn't take it any more, couldn't stand there and listen to Uther demean his wife, his friends, or his reign any longer. "There was a time when I would have given anything for your approval but that time is past. I have no desire to strike fear into the hearts of the people as you did, I rule with benevolence and integrity and they have served me well. I choose Merlin over you and, given another chance, I would choose him again, without hesitation, because he is like a brother to me, I have more respect and affection for him than I ever held for you. I am happy to risk my life for him because his life is worth a thousand of mine. Value does not come from birthright or social status but rather, a man's thoughts, his actions, and most of all, his heart; you would do well to remember that!"
Then, without another glance, Arthur turned and sprinted across the field to the base of the tower. As he drew closer he was awed by the sheer size of the stone structure; such a magnificent building could never have been constructed by mere mortals and he felt miniscule in comparison. He walked around the bottom of the tower until he found a small door set deep into the masonry and threw it open to reveal a spiral staircase that clung to the inner wall of the tower, winding so far into the air that Arthur felt dizzy just looking at it.
Sucking in a deep breath Arthur started jogging up the steps, concentrating on regulating his breathing. He pretended that he was in training to occupy his mind as he ran, going over all the battle formations and training exercises he knew one by one until he'd exhausted all the possibilities, then he started in on the knights, listing each one by rank and classifying them by heritage until that too was exhausted. He still didn't seem any closer to the top than he had been when he started and, panting heavily, he was finally forced to slow to a walk. The muscles in his calves and thighs protested his ascent, burning with the effort of lifting one foot after another but he kept going, pushing through the pain, he wasn't going to let anything, especially a little physical discomfort stop him from saving his best friend.
Just when he was about to sit down and take a break, Arthur spotted a deep purple door inscribed with gilded symbols that shimmered and danced in the sunlight streaming down from a small window set high in the tower wall. Leaning against the door with his arms folded over his chest and his ankles crossed was the Keeper. Arthur sprinted up the last few steps and bowed his head slightly in deference, swallowing his pride because he couldn't afford to offend the man this time; Merlin's life depended on it.
"Well done, Pendragon." The man said, voice rumbling from deep within his chest. "You have shown great endurance, determination, and humility, you have proved your worth and will be granted the answers that you seek."
Turning to the door the Keeper spoke a few unintelligible words, running his fingers lightly between the symbols; as he spoke they began to glow, emitting a pure golden light so dazzling that Arthur had to close his eyes against its brightness. When he opened them again the Keeper was motioning him through the empty doorway.
"This is as far as I go, my daughter, Isolade, holds the knowledge you have journeyed so far to receive."
"Thank you." Arthur responded, surprising himself with the amount of sincerity that rang in his tone. "For everything."
Despite the magical attacks that Camelot had suffered over the years and his father's endless proclamations that all magic users were evil, Arthur found that he was truly grateful for the Keeper's help. In his young life he'd only ever seen magic used for evil, to harm others but he was beginning to realize that it could also be used as a force for good, to save people.
He stepped through the doorway, all weariness forgotten, drowned out by anticipation because he had done it, completed the challenges set before him and now he was finally going to get some answers. "Don't worry Merlin," he whispered, "I'm coming."
He ascended a short staircase and stopped, breath catching in his throat, on the threshold of a small circular room. There, in the middle of the floor sat a beautiful woman with flowers woven into her long blonde hair, it was the girl from his dream! She sat with her eyes closed, face lifted to the sunlight, humming softly as she swayed back and forth. A smile graced her full lips and her high cheekbones were tinted a rosy hue. Every feature on her delicate face bespoke an ancient race of nobility that had long since ceased to exist in Albion.
Unwilling to interrupt her trance he leaned against the wall with his hands on his knees, allowing himself to relax for the first time since he'd begun the quest. He waited politely for her to finish with far more patience than he usually showed and was rewarded when, after a few minutes, she stilled and turned to face him.
"Arthur Pendragon." she said, opening her lashes slowly to reveal startling lavender irises. It wasn't a question, but rather a statement full of quiet confidence, as if she knew, and had always known, that this day would come.
"I need your help." Arthur replied breathlessly, enthralled by her beauty, unable to tear his eyes from her hypnotic gaze.
"Your friend, he's in danger, right?" the woman asked.
Arthur nodded slowly wondering briefly how she could possibly know so much but he cast the thought aside as her soft lilting voice filled the room once again.
"You and Merlin are like two sides of a coin." she began as Arthur sank down to sit against the wall, "One without the other is of little value. Your destinies are irrevocably intertwined and, if you wish to become the king you are meant to be, you must save him."
"I tried," Arthur complained, defensiveness creeping into his tone as he heard the silent accusation that accompanied her words. "I have no idea where to look, my knights and I have searched every village in the kingdom!"
"And yet it is not enough" she replied narrowing her almond-shaped eyes as she ran her calculating gaze over him. "You and Merlin have a deep connection, the bond is very strong and it will help you find him."
"How?" Arthur asked suspiciously.
"I will enhance it so that you are able to feel his thoughts." she replied decisively, "As you travel closer to him the bond will become stronger, follow his thoughts and you will surely find him"
Rising with amazing grace she seemed to glide across the floor towards Arthur and, reaching out, she placed her hand on his forehead. It was warm and at her touch something in Arthur's mind came to life, as if she had woken a part of him that normally lay dormant. "Good luck young Pendragon" she whispered musically "the fate of the world rests in your hands now."
Arthur clambered to his feet wanting to ask her what she meant and how Merlin could possibly have anything to do with the fate of the world but as he stood the tower dissolved around him, sliding out of his vision until he stood in complete darkness, unsure what to do he called out "Hello? Is anyone there?"
"Arthur?" answered an incredulous voice that sounded suspiciously like Merlin.
Hope flooded through him and he confidently took a step in the direction of Merlin's voice only to find himself falling through the infinite emptiness. Jerking awake he sat up, breathing heavily; he was tangled in his blankets back at the campsite he had left the day before. His heart dropped to his stomach and he allowed despair to wash over him, it had only been a dream and he was no closer to finding Merlin than he had been since the boy had been taken.
Arthur began to collect his supplies, storming furiously around the camp; he'd been so close, so close to finding Merlin but it had all been for naught. He was going to have to go back to Camelot empty-handed again! It had all been some sort of cruel joke, another magical plot to destroy him, he swiped angrily at the tears threatening to slip down his cheeks then stopped dead, shaking his head in disbelief. It couldn't be! Then he heard it again, this time with more urgency, a voice that he would know anywhere.
"Arthur help! She's coming!"
"MERLIN!" he shouted but there was no answer other than the birds singing joyfully from the tree behind him.
Sorry there wasn't any Merlin in this chapter but he'll be in the next bit. Speaking of which I'm not sure when I'll have time to get the next chapter up but if you review I can guarantee it will be sooner than if you don't! ;)