1001 NE, Spring
Merlin saw Guin about the camp more often after his visit with Morgana Sedai. She was cheerful, and would talk to almost anyone, only growing quiet around lords and Asha'man. He'd never seen any Sea Folk behave that way, and supposed it was due to her time with the Seanchan. He didn't know why she was that way around Asha'man. Merlin smiled at her as he went past, to put her at ease.
Guin only smiled at him shyly when he attempted to talk to her, saying "Morgana Sedai" and being on an errand and then left. One afternoon her doing so reminded him of his time as a manservant, of those days when his only concern was keeping Arthur in clean clothes and, towards the end, finding dark corners to trip Arthur up.
He went to the edge of camp and stared hard off into the distance as he held saidin and wove Spirit, over and over, looking at his flows to see which called to him. After a few days of this, one looked promising. He carefully laid it upon the presence of Arthur in his head, and felt it go strange. He fell to the ground, his head aching and eyes unfocussed.
Minutes later he heard footsteps pounding up to him, and then Arthur was there, shouting. More running steps, voices, and then he heard the others leave.
A hand under his elbow hoisted him up until he was in a sitting position, with a hand on the ground to keep himself stable. Arthur paced around him then crouched down. "Are you mad?" he said, voice deep with anger. "If you must do this thing, and do recall my saying I wish that you would not, you could perhaps confine yourself until such time I'm not speaking to my men!"
Merlin groaned and touched the heel of his palm to his forehead, and blinked a few times until there were no longer three Arthurs. He felt rough all over, and saidin was a shivery memory, escaping his touch. He moistened his lips. "Nutir is the next strongest in saidin after me; he will have to do any Gateways for a day or so, I think."
Arthur cursed. He helped Merlin the rest of the way up, then aided him back to his tent. He pushed him down to the pallet and, much to Merlin's shock, removed his boots. "Rest."
Nutir wove the Gateway that afternoon. His Gateway wasn't as large as Merlin's usually were; the men had to lead horses through by their reins, rather than go through mounted. It took much longer. By the time Merlin came through with the last numbers, the camp had been set up and the sun was setting low into the sky. He found his tent eventually; it was right next to Arthur's now, instead of at the edge of the officer's circle.
"Why is this here?" he asked one of the camp servants tying a line off down to a stake. "This tent is supposed to be over there." He waved at where it had been approximately at the last camp.
The servant ducked his head, a quick bow. "High Lord Pendragon directed us, Asha'man, not half hour ago."
"I see. My thanks," he said, and thrust his bag in through the flap and moved off to find the other Asha'man.
Kullyn was a short way off a fire, watching the camp bustle about him and eating his meal. Merlin grabbed a wooden bowl from the teetering stack and had the cook ladle some stew into it. He'd learned over the years not to pay too close attention to what went into meals, and the unidentifiable lumps of sinewy meat suggested he not look too close at it now.
He sat down near Kullyn and Nutir appeared shortly after, grey-faced from the effort of using saidin all afternoon. Merlin thrust his bowl at the man. "Here," he said, and went about to fetch himself another. They sat about and ate in the cooling evening air. A few soldiers nodded at them, but none stopped to speak. Most Asha'man grew out of the habit of talking while in the Black Tower. One would never know who would go mad and have to be killed, even though this was no longer true the silence was companionable.
"Next time we're Travelling I'll do the Gateways," Merlin said to Nutir when he'd finished his meal. "This was too difficult for you today." Nutir still looked strained.
Kullyn looked over at him. "What was that weave yesterday? Spirit? I couldn't see what it would do."
"A bonding weave," he said, standing hastily. "Not something you need to know, as yet."
That got Nutir's attention. "Will you be bonding someone, then? That Aes Sedai? The High Lord will have your guts for a belt if you bonded with his sister."
"No, I've no intention of bonding with anyone," said Merlin, and quickly dumped his bowl on the mound of its used fellows, nodding a farewell to them both.
He was aware of Nutir gazing after him. He'd not continue that line of interest now, and thought that Nutir knew it. Arthur had begun to show Merlin too much attention for it to remain unnoticed, and as none knew of the bond, they would only follow it to its logical conclusion. Merlin had recognised some of Arthur's men from when he was Arthur's manservant, and the soldiers would not have forgotten that Arthur and Merlin's once shared a bed. Considering the proximity of the tents, they had probably already imagined it was happening again. As it was.
Merlin heard the tent entrance move as he took off his coat. He turned, ready to tell the servant to leave, and fell silent at the liquid gaze. A hypnotising crooning took hold of him and his arms fell to his side as the great wings enveloped him. His attempted grab at saidin slid away, and he was aware only of the song and the milky face hovering above his own. His eyes closed and he smiled.
There was a roar, a high shriek, and he was free. Merlin saw Arthur swinging his sword, cutting the Draghkar in two. Merlin stumbled back, nearly falling over his pallet, fumbling for saidin again. He sat down with a thump, looking at the two parts of the slain corpse, and the slice in the tent where Arthur had come through. A couple of soldiers stood behind him, swords drawn, and a shadowed form lay on the ground. The soldier Arthur had set to guarding his tent.
"Merlin!" Arthur stepped over the body and crouched before him. Merlin blinked. "Are you hurt?"
Merlin' shook his head. His head was spinning, and shaking it made it worse, so he closed his eyes for a moment.
When he came to, he could hear someone moving about. The shift of fabric suggested someone getting dressed. He opened his eyes and found Arthur pulling a jacket on. Merlin watched sleepily as Arthur tugged his shirtsleeves into place and righted his collar, then looked around.
"I'm in your tent," he said finally.
Arthur turned back to him. "You're awake." He poked his head out the tent for a moment, and spoke quietly to someone. "You'll have food and drink in a moment. You'll need them; you've been asleep for a day."
"A day!" Merlin sat up, only then noticing his lack of clothing. Arthur nodded over at Merlin's pack on the floor
"The Draghkar was warded," said Merlin as he retrieved his clothes. "I didn't sense its taint. How did you know it was there?"
Arthur watched Merlin as he dressed. "You were fading. I could sense something was ... off. I heard its song at your tent." A hand drifted down to his sword hilt. "Morgana told me of ... why would a Draghkar come for you?"
Merlin buttoned up the collar on his coat. "The day with the Seanchan," he said. "My ability in the One Power became stronger, almost to that of the Dragon Reborn. There are few as strong as he." Who would have known he'd stepped up that day? It suggested there was someone lying low amongst the armies with the ability. Merlin tried not to think of Nutir or Kullyn as a Darkfriend.
Arthur held the tent open, an invitation to join him. Merlin stepped through into the early morning and halted. "My tent?" It was gone. He could fuzzily recall it being destroyed.
A servant came hurrying up and passed him a hunk of bread and cheese, and he nodded his thanks.
Colour was high in Arthur's cheeks. "If you are going to be my guard after all, you'll do better with a pallet in my tent. Although it seems to me, that I shall have to guard you."
Merlin stopped chewing and stared at Arthur as they walked along. "I'd rather a tent of my own." Watching him get undressed every day was a test he wasn't certain he could withstand. He'd loved Arthur when he was a servant. Years away had faded those feelings, but he could see himself falling for Arthur all over again, especially if they picked up where they'd left off. He saw Nutir watching them, and nodded at him. Nutir gave him a slow nod in reply.
"Is that right? Is there some reason you want a tent to yourself?" Arthur's voice was cool. "Nutir, is it?"
"What? Uh, it would be better if you could hold private council with your generals without my presence. Then men aren't comfortable with Asha'man," said Merlin, thinking fast. Arthur couldn't have seen Nutir's interest; he'd not been around for training or near the shared tent.
"My men will do as I say. The Lord Dragon's foreseer said you were to save my life, somehow. You'll be in a pallet in my tent," he said firmly. A soldier came up with a sheaf of paper and handed it to him. "I will see you later this evening. In my tent."
Merlin found the other Asha'man quickly, and heard that word had gotten around of the Draghkar. Nutir looked him over carefully, and seemed to hold himself in check.
"Asha'man, I have some skill with healing," said Kullyn, and came closer, holding saidin. Merlin nodded and Kullyn passed a hand in the air down the front of him, slowly, and then returned to his head. Merlin shivered at the flows of spirit Delving him. "Nothing. It didn't touch you," he said. "By the Light! I saw what happened with Cendred, what was left." His face was blank with the horror of it. He turned away.
Merlin shook the residual feeling from the Delving off, and waited until Kullyn had himself in hand. They began work to arrange for wards to be placed around the camp every day. He reached out for saidin and wove the requisite wards, with no way of telling if they'd warn for warded Shadowspawn. They'd all learned the flows for warnings of Shadowspawn, but they'd not managed to capture any to test the wards, or shield them against detection. Even if they'd been warding the camp every night the chances were that the Draghkar would have gotten through anyway.
The song was a fading memory, but it raised a shiver in him all the same. Was it Mordred? He'd sworn Merlin would regret standing against him, and it was strange that someone would send Shadowspawn against an Asha'man instead of the general leading the armies. The generals who'd died, torn apart by gholam or by the Draghkar's kiss, had had Aes Sedai and Asha'man near them, none of whom had been targeted.
As he set weavings into place he thought of Arthur's change towards him. He'd noticed that he was now using his first name instead of his title, ever since they'd had the strike against the Seanchan. First moving him to the tent near Arthur's own, and now having him stay within his personal tent? He wondered for a moment if perhaps the bond was affecting Arthur with his proximity, but knew he'd not added the extra bit the other Asha'man had discovered to make Arthur tractable to his wishes. Not that Merlin had wished to take up residence in the tent with him.
Gaius found him soon into the morning and all but bullied him into the healer's tent to see if the Draghkar had affected him any. He'd hardly sat down when Morgana swept into the tent, Guin a quiet shadow close behind.
She grabbed his head in her hands and he shivered with the second Delving that day. He pulled away and put up a hand to push hers away.
"Dedicated Kullyn Delved me this morning, Morgana," he said. Gaius shot him a sharp look; for leaving off the "Sedai", most likely. "Nothing. Arthur arrived in time." This time they both shot him looks.
"You have to be more careful. You know what's at stake," said Morgana. "A Draghkar came for you; the Dark One agrees with me, I think." She looked over at Gauis, clearly choosing her words carefully.
Merlin looked at Gaius. He was putting away his salves and herbs now that Morgana had pronounced him free of harm, giving them a measure of privacy. "You can speak freely with Healer Gaius, Morgana Sedai. I trust him and place great value in his judgement."
"I see that you do." She took the seat Guin cleared for her, and then bent toward him. "It has come to my attention that you are now staying in the High Lord's tent."
"If the Shadowspawn wards fail to detect any others, it's best he has a channeller nearby to protect him," said Merlin, a little awkwardly. "We can both sense their wrongness, but what if next time it's a gholam?"
"Gholam?" asked Morgana.
"A creature created by the Forsaken. It can squeeze its body through small gaps, and the Lord Dragon says it moves swiftly. channelling doesn't affect it, but a Gateway would take myself, and the High Lord, away from it should one appear." It sometimes slipped from Merlin's mind that Aes Sedai didn't know everything, that the Dragon Reborn's madness gave him information the White Tower had long forgotten.
"From where are you getting your information? I have never heard of such a thing." Her scepticism was obvious.
"The last army I was with had a gholam kill a general, Morgana. It's not something one would want to see twice." The bloodied walls and dismembered limbs were something he'd not forget quickly, and for a while whenever he'd closed his eyes he'd find the carnage in the tent waiting for him. "Lord General Cauthon described his meeting one to me, and I've seen its handiwork. I have no doubt they exist, and should you come across one, I suggest you Travel out of there before you die."
Morgana nodded slowly. "You were pillow-friends, once." She looked at him expectantly.
Merlin stood. "Morgana Sedai. Thank you for your concern." He walked out, her gaze boring into his back.
Late that evening found him back at Arthur's tent. He hesitated at moment at the flaps, aware of the young man guarding its entrance. The soldier made no move to stop his unannounced entry, and he stepped in.
Arthur was eating a meal of roasted fowl, making Merlin aware of having missed the communal meal that night, however unpalatable he would have found it. There was a pallet already made up for him in the corner, partially hidden by a thin, hastily pegged curtain.
"I was wondering if I'd have to send young Otain after you," said Arthur. "Come, eat."
Merlin sat heavily onto the rugs, and reached over for a wing. His stomach growled at the smell, the air thick with roasted fat and hot, fresh bread. He eyed the bread as he stripped off some flesh. The last time he'd eaten a soft bread was when he had served Arthur; he'd sneak himself an extra hunk on the way through the kitchens. He picked up a piece and dipped it in the fat on the plate below the fowl, waiting for it to soak up through. It was as good as he remembered.
As he ate his fill he noticed a silence and looked over at Arthur. He was sitting back, watching Merlin, a calmness about him. He'd discarded his overcoat and was only in thin shirtsleeves, a cup of watered wine in hand. "I'd not realised the men's rations were so dismal," he said, smiling faintly.
"It's adequate," said Merlin. "Nothing could compare to when the Dark One's touch turned all the food bad and everything was half-rotting by the time you could eat it, or the bread crunchy with weevils."
Arthur grimaced. "The cook had a difficult time presenting edible food, the steward told me."
"For you, yes." Merlin pushed himself away from the food, licking at his fingers, and looked about for a serving cloth. Arthur had stopped with his cup half-way to his mouth, watching him. "High Lord. I bid you sleep well; my thanks for sharing of the meal." He turned to his pallet, and as he went he reached out for saidin and the Void, testing the wards around the tent and the larger net around the camp. They were strong.
The Void sharpened his senses. Every sound in the tent was magnified. He could hear Arthur's breathing behind him, the rasp of his breeches as he moved, the small snick as Merlin removed the pins from his collar, the dragon and sword, his badges of rank. He was going to have to launder in the morning; even the trick of not sweating only kept one's clothing from developing a stench for a couple of days, a good trick considering the Asha'man coats. He toed off his boots and loosened his breeches, thinking of teaching Arthur the sweating trick. He tried to avoid knowledge of Arthur only a short distance away, but trying not to think of it brought his nearness to mind. He let go the Void, and then felt Arthur come up behind him.
Arthur pressed himself up against Merlin's back, trapping his hands against his breeches, then unlaced them slowly. Arthur pushed his hands in, cupping Merlin, and he thrust back helplessly against the growing cock he could feel against his back. His reasons for why this was a bad idea disappeared. Arthur bit his neck lightly, and with a rush the bond came back to him. He could feel Arthur's arousal, and under it something else.
Merlin found himself pulled back and went along until he found himself on his back on Arthur's bed.
"Take your clothes off," said Arthur, taking his own off unhurriedly. He dropped them where he stood, and when Merlin didn't move fast enough, bent over him. "Take them off."
Merlin pulled his undershirt over his head quickly and pushed his breeches down. Arthur pulled them over his feet and threw them to the ground. Arthur stood over him, the bond communicating a satisfaction. He shivered. Arthur took his own cock in hand and stroked it, making Merlin gasp at the feeling coming through the bond of heat pooling in his groin. Arthur's mouth came down on him and he twisted on the sheets, grabbing a fistful and arching his back. He could feel the feedback again, his own desire fuelling Arthur's, and soon it was a raging torrent.
"Say my name."
He opened his eyes to find Arthur above him, eyes blazing. His skin grew oversensitised and Arthur's every breath over him made him anticipate a touch until he writhed with a need for it. Arthur's hand shone slick with oil and the bottle fell onto the sheets unheeded, Arthur's fingers sliding up into him, back and forth.
"Say it."
"Arthur," he gasped out, "please."
Arthur pressed him down, pushing Merlin's thighs apart and up over his shoulders, fucking him with a hard thrust. He jerked back and pushed forward again, looking down at his cock move in Merlin, a darkly possessive feeling coming through the bond with every movement. His hands were hard on Merlin's thighs, pulling him into every thrust. Merlin felt about for the bottle of oil, and found it spilled on the sheets, slippery on his hand. He took hold of his cock and stroked with every thrust, Arthur adjusting his angle until he hit the spot. He felt Arthur's control disappear, all his focus on the sensation on his skin, caressed by the silks and air, Arthur's sweat dripping down onto him as he twisted Merlin onto his front and pulled him back, again and again.
Merlin's other hand gripped the silk sheets, Arthur's fist pumping him in time to his fucking. He was on the verge of coming. He could feel Arthur almost there too, and that tipped him over the edge. Arthur came with a loud groan, mine, mine echoing through the bond, and Arthur sagged over him. He fell into the sheets, sated and never wanting to move again.
After a while Arthur moved and slid sideways off him, onto the discarded bottle of oil. He swore, and the bed moved uncomfortably as Arthur reached out of the bed. Merlin didn't look, presuming that he was cleaning up, even if it would have been a novel thing to see.
He was suddenly aware of the satisfied hum coming through the bond and masked it. It was too late for him to avoid repercussions, falling for Arthur again, and because of the bond he knew Arthur considered Merlin his. Arthur always had, but never knew of Merlin's feelings for him; he was going to have to keep the bond masked, or it would slip. Merlin groaned a little into the mattress, all too aware that every time Arthur touched him he could no longer control to mask and the bond became wide open. All it would take was another couple of tumbles and Arthur would know.
He flinched a little at Arthur's hand sliding up his back and into his hair. Arthur was beside him again, propped up on an elbow, a shirt covering the oily sheet. Merlin's shirt.
"You muffled the bond again." Arthur tightened his hand in Merlin's hair briefly, and resumed his caress. "We'll start moving the camp in the morning. The Lord Dragon wanted us at Tarwin's Gap as soon as possible."
Merlin shook off his languor with difficulty. "I can take us almost to Tarwin's Gap once we are close to the Borderlands."
"This One Power is limited," said Arthur thoughtfully. "Aes Sedai always make it seem they can do anything--even Morgana does this--but there are things you can't do. You and the Asha'man make this clear. You have to know a place to Travel? You know the Borderlands."
"Yes." He said no more, although Arthur clearly waited for him to elaborate.
"You spent time in the Borderlands? Where?"
Merlin turned over and lifted himself a little, making for the edge of the bed. Arthur pulled him back and pressed him down onto the bed with his body. They stayed like that for a moment, Arthur breathing onto his neck until Merlin shivered from it. He nipped at Merlin's shoulder painfully, and let him go. Merlin scrambled off the bed and cupped a hand over the offended spot, scowling down at Arthur.
"Kullyn, he's from Illian," said Arthur, a hint of question. "Nutir, by his name, from Saldaea?"
Merlin nodded. Nutir looked like a Saldaean Borderlander to Merlin, at least; unless an Asha'man volunteered where he'd come from, those at the Black Tower had learned not to ask. He looked over at the pallet he'd started off with.
"You won't need that tonight," said Arthur, and grabbed Merlin's arm to pull him back down. He prodded Merlin until he lay down stiffly, and draped a heavy arm over his midriff. "Sleep."
Merlin woke to the sensation of slow rubbing up against him, and sleepily reached for the hard cock pressing into his side. He stroked Arthur off sleepily, waking slowly, and slid down Arthur to take his cock into his mouth. Merlin licked his way up his shaft, Arthur's hand tangling in his hair, and flicked his tongue over the slit. His hand slipped on the oily silk as he steadied himself, and he brought his oiled finger up to Arthur's arse, touching at the entrance, pushing. Merlin sucked him in deep and thrust in, fucking Arthur with his fingers and sucking him off, keeping a firm grip on the shaft with his other hand.
Arthur was making loud incoherent noises above him, and Merlin fuzzily noted the bond was staying masked this time. He rubbed himself against the sheets as he brought Arthur up to the brink, twisting his fingers inside to touch Arthur just there, and then his mouth was filled with a salty taste. He spat it into his hand and lay back down on the bed, sliding his hand over his cock, close to the edge. Arthur was there suddenly, biting at his nipple.
"I'm going to fuck you this evening, right over the edge of the bed, and won't let you come until you beg me, loud, so they can hear you right across the camp," he said into Merlin's ear lazily, and then bit it. "First I'll watch you fuck yourself on your fingers, until you ask for my cock. I won't let you come until I say you can. Come. Now."
Merlin shuddered his release and lay there in his own stickiness, Arthur flicking at his nipple gently. A noise came from outside the tent and Arthur was up, grabbing at the sheets and wiping himself down. He looked at the smears over himself and flung the sheet away from him.
A loud cough came from outside the tent entrance. "Lord General."
"A moment, Lance," said Arthur, finding the previous evening's discarded damp washcloth with a grimace. Merlin went over to his satchel to find a new set of clothes and dressed as Arthur did, finding the sword and dragon pins on the empty pallet and pinning them to his clean black coat. Arthur smiled at him in a distracted fashion, ducked through the tent, and was gone.
Merlin looked around at the ruined interior of the tent, clothes and sheets strewn everywhere, things knocked over from the night before. Just as well they were Travelling that day.
He pushed through the tent and saw another young guard, not the same one as the night before. His ears were red as he avoided looking at Merlin, determinedly staring off down the street of tents. The single slash on his coat proclaimed him a lord of the lower houses of Cairhien, likely a second or third son. Being Cairhienin explained all the blushes; they were notoriously reticent in public.
Merlin followed Arthur through to the generals' meeting, last into the command tent. He noticed almost right away the small, speculative glances thrown his way from the retainers. There was nothing for him to contribute; it was the usual sort of grinding detail of the army's supplies, discipline, and further suggestion of improvement of morale, and how far they could move each day with minimal camp break-up time.
"Asha'man Emrys," came a call after him when the meeting had broken up and he'd left the tent. He turned to find a lord of the lower houses addressing him. "I would be interested in hearing your thoughts on how the Dragon Reborn would have us, once at Tarwin Gap. You are friend of Lord General Pendragon?"
"My Lord," said Merlin in acknowledgement. "The Dragon Reborn is not in the habit of taking me into his confidence, and if you have questions of High Lord Pendragon, I am certain he will answer them himself." He nodded towards Arthur, heading their way.
The man saw Arthur approaching and whitened a little, quickly murmuring of an important meeting with a small stammer and moving away.
"This march will weary the men," said Arthur as he came closer. He watched the lord walk away. "Lord Vaedel. You would do best to stay away from the lords, Merlin; speak too long to one and any other lord will think you are plotting against them. Vaedel's mother was Cairhienin, to make things worse. She had her fingers in every plot the House had in Tear."
"You lords can keep your scheming." The Black Tower had its own intrigue to deal with, and he still wasn't certain of Kullyn or Nutir as it was, although he was certain they weren't Darkfriends. Almost certain. Most of those had gone with Taim, or were dead. The last thing he needed was being tangled in some lord's web while being on the lookout for Shadowspawn.
"How long do you need to spend familiarising yourself with a place before you can make a Gateway from it?" asked Arthur.
Merlin shot him a sharp look. "Morgana tells you much, it appears." He looked back at Almoth Plain, then over to the Mountains of Mist, a wall of mountains around which the road to the Borderlands around. There was no way over it except smuggler's passages. "It depends. A day, two days. We would need to know the destination, although we don't need to know the destination of Travel as well as we do the originating Gateway. The more we channel somewhere, the more we know the location and can Travel from it. We are all using saidin as much as possible; I could Travel from here in the afternoon, if need be."
Arthur watched the camp packing up. "We could do with a few days on the road. We'll steer close to Bandar Eban--it may be that we'll pick up more recruits as we march to make up for those lost against the Seanchan. Blood and ashes! They couldn't have come to the Dragon Reborn days earlier? We'd not have lost so many men!" He drummed his hand on a thigh. "Bloody waste."
"Dedicated Nutir can weave a Gateway once we grow close to Maradon. He's from the south of Saldaea and he tells me his sister married a Kandori. That should take a few days off the march, and once we're there I can take us to Fal Dara."
"Nutir," said Arthur. "The Dragon Reborn wanted one of you to scout on ahead. He should find the next camp in Saldaea he recognises, and make certain he knows the area well when we arrive.
As the rest of the camp was packed into carts, Merlin sought out Nutir to inform him of the latest development.
"You could take a few hours with your family, if they are still in the south of Saldaea," said Merlin.
Nutir shook his head. "No. My brother tells me everyone has left for the Shadowmount. They fight for the Light, as do I." Nutir looked Merlin over for a moment. "This plan to have me familiar with the new ground for Travelling, it is High Lord Pendragon's?"
"Yes. He wants the army in Shienar as soon as possible."
"Ah, I see." He nodded to himself, and then brought out his hand to clasp Merlin's in a formal farewell. "Asha'man Emrys, as you command."
Merlin watched him leave for the farrier's. Nutir had heard of what had happened that morning, too, he supposed, and felt relieved that he wouldn't need to explain things to him. Nutir was the best man to go, whatever he clearly supposed of Arthur's logic.
