A/N: It's late, I'm tired, and I've gotta be to work early tomorrow, so I'm going to keep this short today :)

Title: Beyond the Vale
Author: BeyondTheStorm
Rating: T for violence and some bloodshed and maybe some language.f
Characters/pairings: Only friendship here, though you can read it however you want :) Lots of Merlin and Arthur as well as Gwaine, Lancelot, and Elyan.
Spoilers: Season 3, including the finale. This is a post S3 fic.
Warnings: Nothing, as far as I know. Feel free to let me know if you see something.

Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.

So...there is actually a lot less of the overall plot in this chapter than I originally intended. I got a bit too ambitious. However, I did introduce something that is part of the plot and shall be important, so yay!

Massive portions of this chapter haven't properly been proofread, so if you do see anything glaringly obvious, please point it out. It will definitely help me out in the long run :)

CHAPTER 14

In all honesty, he hadn't really expected to actually be able to convince Gwaine to leave Merlin's side. They had both been trying to comfort him in some way but to no avail since the warlock had seemed adamant that there wasn't anything they could do. However, Gwaine had made it perfectly clear that he intended to stay just in case, and Lancelot had learned early on that despite his almost careless personality, the knight was nothing if not fiercely loyal. Gwaine had seemed pretty resolute and unyielding in his decision, even going so far as to actually glare at the prince as Arthur had made his way over.

However, he had known that whatever Arthur intended to say was probably something that Merlin needed to hear, and the two of them would only be in the way if they stayed. Therefore he had had to convince the other man to leave their friend alone with Arthur for a while, and although he had been reluctant to do so, Gwaine had agreed in the end (it seemed that despite his still simmering anger towards the royal, he was wise enough to know that this was something that both Arthur and Merlin needed).

He wasn't entirely sure how he had managed to do it, really, but he was certainly grateful that he had, because from where the two of them were standing, they could watch the interaction between prince and servant without either one knowing that they were being observed. They were too far away to hear what was being said—that had been the point, after all—but the context was easy enough to understand to a certain extent. As inadequate as Arthur could be at times when it came to matters of the heart and of simply interacting with the people he cared about, he was obviously doing something right. Merlin was actually talking to him.

That was leaps and bounds ahead of what he and Gwaine had managed. Merlin hadn't told them anything, and not once had he raised his head to look at them. He was doing both for Arthur, and the prince, well…it certainly wasn't often that they got to see a look like that on Arthur's face. It was true that he was a bit more open around their small group, the people who had fought with him to reclaim Camelot, but it was still a rare thing to see him so unguarded and vulnerable. He looked sad and guilty, but there was a great deal of concern there as well, and the knight found himself smiling just a bit in spite of it.

Sometimes it was easy to forget that even though Arthur was a prince, the future king of Camelot, the acting regent, and above all their leader…he was still only human, and when it came to dealing with people, especially the ones closest to him, he could sometimes be a bit clumsy with his interactions. He made a lot of mistakes, and sometimes he was a bit too harsh, and yes, he really could be incredibly oblivious and ignorant at times, but he was a good man with a good heart who genuinely did care about the people in his life even if he wasn't always good at showing it.

In the end, he was only human just like the rest of them. Everyone made mistakes, and it would be unfair to hold all his shortcomings against him when they had so many of their own. He was learning, slowly but surely, and that's what mattered.

While Merlin and Arthur continued to converse, Lancelot continued to observe them silently (and one look at Gwaine showed that he was doing much the same). It wasn't long before they were joined by Elyan, and like them, he seemed perfectly content to just stay quiet and watch. It wasn't until Arthur positioned himself against the wall and sat down next to Merlin that they finally turned their eyes away.

Lancelot half expected Gwaine to head right back over there, as stubborn as he was, but the knight seemed to have other ideas. Instead that steady gaze honed in on him, and he would have been lying if he didn't admit to being just a little unnerved by it. That was the look of someone who had a lot of questions and didn't intend to rest until he got some answers.

In hindsight, he should have known this would be coming. After all, Gwaine was a lot more observant than people gave him credit for, and it didn't take a genius to realize that Lancelot spent a lot of time with Merlin. There were things he knew about the warlock that no one else did. Unfortunately for Gwaine, he had no intentions of revealing anything that wasn't his right to share. Many of Merlin's secrets belonged only to Merlin, and he had no intention of betraying the trust that had been placed in him.

In a world full of people who could very well turn against his friend if they ever discovered what he was, Lancelot had vowed to be someone that Merlin could rely on. If he could relieve even the slightest bit of the warlock's heavy burden, then he would do so gladly, no matter the cost.

When the silence was finally broken, he was taken a bit by surprise to find that it wasn't Gwaine who chose to shatter it but Elyan. He had been observing Arthur and Merlin like they had, but unlike the look Gwaine was giving him—a mixture of curiosity and accusation—Elyan just looked concerned.

"Do you think he'll be alright?" he asked, and it didn't take a genius to figure out who he was talking about.

"Eventually," Lancelot answered, glancing back at the warlock who was still huddled against the wall though he seemed far less tense than before. "He just needs some time is all."

"Do you know what she did to him?"

No, he didn't—not for sure, anyway. Merlin hadn't told him anything, but he had a pretty good idea given the state he was in.

"…No, not really." He immediately found himself wishing that he had sounded a bit more sure of himself, because Gwaine very quickly picked up on the fact that he wasn't.

"But you have an idea," the man said, and although it should have been a question, it wasn't. Gwaine was entirely sure of himself, and in the end there really wasn't much that could be done about it, because when he put his mind to it, Gwaine could be very persistent, and until Lancelot answered, he wasn't likely to be left alone.

Besides, telling them this much wouldn't do any harm.

"Yes, though I can't be certain," he said. "I think that when she was reading him, she made him relive it—every painful memory, every loss, all his mistakes and regrets. It would explain why he's like this now."

He didn't miss the concern that flashed across their faces or the contemplating looks that crossed a moment later as they glanced over at the warlock. Lancelot couldn't help but wonder if they were coming to the same conclusion he had a long time ago, one he had stumbled across more than once in all his interactions with Merlin.

What he had said two months ago at the round table, about Arthur showing him what it meant to be a knight, to live his life and fight for what is right and just, was nothing more or less than the honest truth…but it was Merlin who had shown him through his loyalty, selflessness, and humility, what it meant to truly be strong. To watch him every day serving Arthur and running around for Gaius, taking the time to greet people and talk to Gwen, offering a helping hand and a smile to anyone and everyone, and all the while knowing that he had power at his disposal that most could scarcely imagine… It was so very humbling and astounding, and it made him wonder if he could ever achieve the kind of strength that came to Merlin so easily.

He truly was braver than anyone Lancelot had ever met, and it wasn't fair that no one else could see it, but for now that was how things had to be. It was for the best.

Of course, that didn't mean he had to like it.

"…It's kind of hard to believe, isn't it," said Elyan softly, drawing Lancelot away from his thoughts and back to the conversation at hand. "I've watched him a few times with Arthur and with Gwen, and the way he acts… You'd never think he was hiding something like this."

"We all have our burdens and regrets," said Gwaine in what could be called a rare moment of wisdom. "But I'm starting to think he has more than most."

That last part was said while looking directly at him, and Lancelot immediately knew that he wasn't about to get out of this conversation so easily. Gwaine knew that he knew more than he was letting on, and he was apparently determined to get his answers. Those eyes narrowed a bit, fixing him with a stern stare.

"You know, don't you," he said.

It wasn't a question.

"…Yes, but only some of it." There was no point in lying when Gwaine already knew the answer.

"Care to enlighten us?"

"I can't. They aren't my stories to tell."

It looked like Gwaine was about to protest, to demand that he be told something so that he could help Merlin, but Lancelot knew exactly what to say to silence all further protests, because if there was one thing the two of them had in common, it was their mutual desire to protect their friend.

"I made a promise that I would not breathe a word of what Merlin told me to anyone. It's not my right, and I have no intention of betraying him. I would give up my knighthood before ever breaking my word. Surely you can understand that?"

It was both a testament and a challenge, and although he could see that Gwaine wasn't entirely happy with not getting the answers he wanted, he also knew what his choice would be. He watched as that intense stare softened, the tension leaking out of the other knight as he heaved a somewhat defeated sigh. In a few short moments he had reverted back to the carefree tavern loafer that Lancelot had gotten to know rather well the last two months.

"I certainly can, my friend," he said good-naturedly, offering a slight grin that Lancelot had no problem returning. Gwaine's attention soon strayed off again to where Arthur and Merlin were, his grin widening just a bit. "Guess we should probably join them. It's starting to get dark in here, and I could use something to eat. It's been a long day."

"I couldn't agree more," said Elyan. "We could all do with some rest, and maybe tomorrow we'll be able to figure something out."

"Let's hope so. I don't like the idea of staying here for too long."

As the three of them began to head over to where Arthur and Merlin were, Lancelot kept his silence and watched his fellow knights converse. He knew what they were doing or at least what they were trying to do, but despite the levity of their conversation, he knew that they were still worried. It was a way of coping with the situation, because everything was so far out of their control that it was better to just not think about it sometimes. Dwelling on it would do them no good, and in all honesty, the best way for them to help Merlin right now was to try and act like everything was the same as before. The warlock didn't like being coddled, and badgering him with questions would probably do more harm than good. He could be extremely obstinate when he felt like it.

However…sooner or later he would have to tell them, because there were some questions they needed the answers to. Merlin knew more about the vale than the rest of them. He understood some of what was going on, and even the smallest bit of information could prove useful. He was able to sense the air around them, air that was filled with magic and with all the lives that had been lost. Somehow Merlin was able to feel them, and they needed to figure out if there was a way they could use that to help them escape. If anyone could find a way out of this mess, it would be Merlin, and no matter what that entailed, he would be there to help him every step of the way.

They would get through this—all of them, together.

They had to.

Why won't you all just go away? It was something he desperately wanted to shout out as loud as he could in hopes that it would actually push all the voices away that insisted on screaming at him, but he got the feeling that his companions would either take it the wrong way or think he was losing his mind. The latter probably wasn't too far off, actually. It was hard to concentrate on anything let alone think when it felt like someone was prodding at him to try and get his attention, screaming and whispering and crying all at the same time and from every direction only for them to pull away the moment he tried to find them.

It was annoying, and it definitely wasn't helping him any. He still felt awful, and the constant distraction wasn't doing him any good. There were just too many voices…although that wasn't really what they were. He just couldn't think of a better word for them, because even though he couldn't actually hear anyone, it still felt like they were trying to say something to him, to reach him in some way, but he couldn't connect with any of them, couldn't talk back or reach out, and he was far too afraid to simply let them in. He would surely be overwhelmed if he did.

It was practically impossible for him to differentiate between all the different voices, all the emotions being thrown at him and pushing at the back of his mind, but there was one where if he listened, he could almost hear it. He wasn't entirely sure if it belonged to one of them or if it resided somewhere within his own head, but there was a presence that almost seemed to be talking to him, the words echoing in his mind in a way that wasn't at all like he had experienced before. There was no tone, no sound, nothing at all to indicate that someone was speaking…and yet he could feel it.

It was almost calming.

Breathe deep. Relax.

It'll be alright.

Breathe deep.

Merlin was determined to at least try to do what it said, because the advice seemed sound enough, and he was tired of feeling like the world was crashing down around him. He had managed to work through his grief before, and he would do it again, because if he didn't, he'd never be able to move forward. It was still painful, and it probably always would be, but he could handle it. In the end, he always did.

Breathe deep. It'll be alright.

He knew that it was extremely foolish and probably more than a little naïve to believe in the words of a voice he couldn't hear that belonged to someone he didn't know who may or may not even exist…but then again, he wasn't exactly known for being rational. Why start now? Besides, it was almost soothing in a way, a calming presence amidst a sea of chaos. Focusing on those words actually helped, and the more he took in, the easier it became to bury all of his excess feelings, all the pain that Eiwyn had pulled to the surface.

After a few more moments, he found that only a dull ache remained, and even that too faded in the end until he felt much the way he had before. Not a huge improvement, mind you, because he still felt quite ill, but it was a start.

With another deep breath, Merlin finally began to move, loosening the tight hold he had had on himself and allowing all his limbs to relax. He lifted his head and opened his eyes while allowing his arms to fall from around his knees as he moved his legs. Everything felt stiff, and he couldn't help but wonder just how long he had been sitting there like that.

Too long, apparently.

The last time he had looked up, Arthur had been sitting next to him, but now the prince was across the room, rifling through his pack. Lancelot and Elyan were just a little ways away going through some of the other bags, pulling out what looked like every scrap of food they had brought with them, and it was Gwaine who was now sitting next to him against the wall. When he noticed that the warlock was no longer hiding away and ignoring the world, he broke into a grin and put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Hey," he greeted. "Feeling any better?"

"A little." His voice came out sounding soft and a bit thick—he hadn't used it much in the last however many hours it had been. It was starting to get kind of dark in the room, so he figured that at least a few had to have gone by.

"Glad to hear it. You had me worried there."

Despite the churning in his stomach and the overall unpleasant feeling that was still washing over him, he couldn't help but grin at the knight. It was kind of nice to have a friend around who wasn't afraid or ashamed to admit to such a thing as being worried. Gwaine had never really had a problem with acknowledging the fact that they were friends, unlike a certain prince…

But Arthur was trying, wasn't he? He had apologized—twice, even—without being sarcastic or taking it back or using it in some way to insult in. He had actually meant it, and this time around he had allowed Merlin to know he meant it. Arthur had tried to help, and that alone was enough to make him smile, because even though it wasn't likely that he'd ever say the words, his actions meant that he cared. It's not that Merlin had ever doubted that (he knew Arthur well enough to know that the prince had his own ways of expressing care and affection) but it was nice every once in a while to have proof that Arthur really did care about him beyond what their stations required.

Maybe one day he'd even be able to get Arthur to admit it.

"Come on," said Gwaine with a light pat on his shoulder to get his attention. "It's been a long day, and we haven't eaten since breakfast. Lancelot and Elyan are dividing up our rations. Wouldn't want to run out too soon—don't know how long we might be here—but I'm sure they'll give us all a fair share."

At the very thought of food, his stomach protested rather violently, and the nausea was enough to wipe the smile off his face.

"I'm not hungry," he said softly, lowering his head so that he was staring down at his hands in his lap as they played with a frayed edge of his jacket. He didn't see the way Gwaine's grin slipped off his face nor did he see the way Elyan and Lancelot looked up from their task or how Arthur had begun to make his way over only to stop upon hearing those words. He missed all four of the looks being directed towards him, but he knew they were there. He really didn't want to make them worry—he hated it—and yet he couldn't seem to do anything but.

"Are you sure?" Gwaine asked. "It might help you feel better."

"Trust me, it won't," he told them, even though he knew that sooner or later he was going to have to eat something no matter how ill he felt, but he just wasn't up to it. Maybe in the morning, but not now. "…I probably won't be able to keep it down."

The hand on his shoulder tightened a bit—not enough to hurt, but enough to let him know what his friend was feeling.

He wanted to tell him—to tell all of them—that they didn't need to worry, that he was alright, but there was no point. It was a complete lie, and they'd all see through it anyway, but the temptation was still there nonetheless. He was just too used to it, to hiding things for one reason or another. He had so many secrets to keep, so many lies to protect, and sometimes it was hard to differentiate between all of them. Some secrets were to protect his life and some were to protect the lives of others, but there were also the ones he kept in order to keep the people around him happy, to keep them from being burdened with problems that weren't theirs to carry.

All of them had their own worries, their own fears, their own burdens. They didn't need his as well. It was just better if they didn't know.

…But he was just so tired, and the lie would be too obvious. If his appearance wasn't enough to give him away, then Eiwyn's words certainly were. They all knew something was wrong with him even if they didn't actually understand it.

Merlin was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he hadn't noticed the rest of his friends coming over to sit around him. It wasn't until the hand on his shoulder retreated that he became aware of everyone else, although he merely glanced up for a short moment before lowering his head again. It was rather uncomfortable to be the center of everyone's attention. He would almost prefer to be ignored.

Almost.

"Merlin," he heard Elyan say, but he didn't raise his head or acknowledge him in the slightest. Apparently that wasn't enough to deter him. He asked his question anyway, with both care and caution. "Does this have something to do with what Eiwyn said…about you having 'awareness?'"

…Well, there it was. The one question he really didn't want to answer. He wasn't even sure if he could answer it, because how was he supposed to explain it to them without sounding completely mad? How was he supposed to tell them that he could feel the air as if it were an actual presence, thick and heavy, with magic and life and thousands upon thousands of souls crying out in despair and retribution, begging for an end that would never come? He barely understood it himself, so how could he possibly put it into words for people who didn't know what it felt like?

How could he possibly explain it to them without condemning himself, one way or another?

"…Merlin."

This time when his name was called, he looked up and found Arthur sitting before him much like he had been before with an expression that was earnest and unguarded. If he didn't know any better, he would have called it pleading.

"I know you don't want to talk about this," the prince began, his voice soft and cautious much like Elyan's had been, "and we won't force you to, but we can't help you if you don't tell us what's going on."

He didn't want to. He really didn't want to, but they were all looking at him, anxious and concerned, waiting patiently for his answer. These were his friends, and they wanted to help, and of all people, it was Arthur asking him. Arthur, who almost never asks him to do something—who orders it or demands it, yes, but never asks. It wasn't a command but a request. He wanted to know, but he was giving Merlin a choice, and there would be no penalty for choosing not to answer.

Not knowing what to do, the warlock began to worry at his bottom lip while he weighed his choices. Neither option was pleasant. He'd be risking something either way, but the truth of the matter was that he wanted to tell them, all of them, to give them just the tiniest piece of himself if only to see what they would do with it.

He wanted to…but could he trust them with this?

…Tell them.

He did his absolute best not to give any sort of outward reaction as the words resounded through his mind, cutting through his thoughts and drawing his attention. It was that same presence from before, tugging at his thoughts and pulling him away.

Relax. Tell them.

Breathe deep.

It'll be alright.

Merlin closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

Okay, he said back. Okay, I'll tell them.

He knew it was foolish to put his trust into something he knew nothing about. It was silly and naïve to take advice from a voice that could very well just be in his own head. It certainly wasn't normal, but then again, nothing about this was normal, and he wasn't exactly a conventional person. Besides, it was telling him that he could trust them, that even if he chose to let them see a part of himself that he would normally keep hidden, everything would still be alright. He didn't have to lie or pretend.

He could trust them.

Breathe deep. It'll be alright.

And he desperately wanted to.

"…Alright," he said, the word breathed out on a sigh. "Alright, I'll tell you."

A/N: I'm sorry, I had to. I got to that line, and even though I had originally planned to do a lot more, the chapter was already 8 pages and I ran out of time, so I figured "why not?"
Feel free to hate me for it :) It does mean that there will be massive amounts of conversations in the next chapter though.

As always, thank you to everyone reading this :) I hope you're enjoying my fic. Please feel free to drop a review, although I won't ask for them being the terrible reviewer that I am. I do love hearing from everyone though. Reviews give me something to look forward to when I get home from work :)

Happy new year, and I'll see you all next week!