A/N: So, here we go again. It's late, and I'm tired, so I'm going to keep this short tonight.

Title: Beyond the Vale
Author: BeyondTheStorm
Rating: T for violence and some bloodshed and maybe some language.
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.

I'm sorry I didn't get around to writing the responses for the last chapter. I'll try to make time for it this week, though the odds aren't good since I'll be out of town for most of it. Hurray for anime conventions! I'm really looking forward to it :)

So I didn't cover quite as much as I had wanted to with this chapter (this shouldn't surprise anyone anymore). This fic will likely be just 2 more chapters now. That's what I'm aiming for anyway :)

Onward!

CHAPTER 26

…Mer…-lin…Mer-lin…Merlin…

The warlock very slowly opened his eyes—he didn't remember closing them—and found that the world was apparently still bathed in white. He groaned and did his best to turn away from it even if all he could really do was shift his head at the moment. Everything was just too bright, so he quickly shut his eyes again and welcomed the darkness, hoping it would be better the next time he opened him.

Merlin…

For the life of him, he couldn't seem to recall what had happened. He remembered getting to the courtyard and reaching for the staff, his fingers just barely grazing the wood before one of Eiwyn's creatures had found him. He had desperately thrown himself onto the platform to grab the staff, but he couldn't seem to recall anything after that other than a sharp pain in his side and a blinding white light. Everything had fallen silent after that.

…Merlin.

With, of course, the exception of that voice that kept saying his name. Someone was calling him…or shouting at him. Same thing, really. Nothing he wasn't already used to.

Merlin!

He knew that voice—well, sort of, anyway. It had been a while since he had heard it like that. He had grown used to hearing it in tones and volumes instead of thoughts and emotions. It was echoing in his head, not his ears, and he could tell that he was being called to rather frantically. It would probably be best to answer. He didn't want to make him worry, after all.

…Rhoshad?

There was a sense of relief that suddenly filled him, an emotion not quite his own, and even though he couldn't see the ghost, he was pretty sure that he had just heaved a very relieved sigh.

Merlin…thank the gods, you're alright.

What happened?

I was rather hoping you could tell me.

The warlock thought about it for a moment, but he still couldn't grasp exactly what was going on. It felt a lot like he was floating at the moment, but there was one thing he could feel—one thing he knew with absolute certainty: he had reached the staff. The very moment he had wrapped his hand around it, the chains that had been holding it up had shattered in that flash of light, releasing it into his care. He was clutching it in both hands, cradling it close like a lifeline, and for all he knew that's exactly what it was. There was power there, flowing through it and into him, protecting him just like Rhoshad had said it would, but there was something else there as well, something he hadn't been expecting.

Memories.

Contained within the magic were thoughts and feelings, memories, desires, wishes…everything that made Rhoshad who he was. His magic was a reflection of himself, warm and comforting, determined, hopeful, with a desire to protect. He had learned long ago when he had faced Nimueh that magic could often take on the characteristics of the one commanding it, that it was possible to read a person through their magic and judge their intent, their heart. Hers had been powerful but selfish, cruel and vengeful, and through their brief encounters he had been able to see just what kind of person she had allowed herself to become.

He prayed he would never reach that point, that his magic would never become so twisted. No matter what he was forced to do while protecting Arthur, he would never let his magic be tainted in such a way. That being said, he couldn't help but wonder what his own magic felt like to other sorcerers, if it was as clear a reflection of his heart as Rhoshad's was, because through that staff he could feel everything. All the realizations he had made before setting off became that much clearer, and the one question he still had, that Rhoshad never gave him an answer to, was no longer an issue. He finally understood.

Merlin, what is it?

…There's something I need you to tell me. It's about Eiwyn.

There was no point beating around the bush. It had been bothering him ever since Rhoshad had told them his story, and now that he knew the answer, he wanted an explanation, to know why.

She doesn't know, does she…that she could break the enchantment. It wasn't a question, because he already knew the truth, but nonetheless he wanted to hear it for himself, to be told. Through their connection, he could feel the melancholy coming from Rhoshad, could practically see the sad, wistful smile on the man's face as he spoke.

No, although I'm certain there have been times where she was tempted to try.

How come you never told her?

Because at first I didn't know. I wasn't aware that my magic would grant her that ability, and by the time I finally understood, I was already dead.

But why didn't you explain it to her from the beginning? You should have told her what you were planning to do instead of just doing it. More than anything else, that's what was bothering him about the whole thing. If Rhoshad had only told Eiwyn that he could lift the enchantment, that everything would be okay, then he wouldn't have ended up dead and Haulden would have been set free. None of this would be happening. All he had needed to do was tell her, but he hadn't.

There was a moment of hesitation before Rhoshad began speaking again, and in it Merlin could feel every ounce of regret, but there was something else there as well, something that felt a lot like belief.

Even though he regretted the outcome, he didn't regret his decision.

…I couldn't. I couldn't take that risk. By the time I finally figured it out, I was old. My magic had been fading gradually over the years, and my body wasn't that strong anymore. I had thought about telling her before I tried, because I wasn't sure if I'd be able to do it with what little I had left…but it was because of that that I couldn't.

What do you mean?

Think about it. If I had died while trying to lift the enchantment and if Eiwyn had known what was required to properly lift it without knowing that she herself could do it, what do you think she would have done? My spell gave her an extraordinary amount of power, both in here and out there—that's why those who can sense it tend to stay away—and she could have used that power to lure people in who possessed magic. Her desire to save her people, to protect everyone, was what ultimately made my enchantment possible. It was enough to drive the curse deep into the earth and seal Haulden off, and I wasn't about to let that same desire drive her to murder hundreds of people in a search to find someone capable of lifting the enchantment. I couldn't let her destroy herself like that, to taint her heart with such desperation and insanity. You may call me selfish if you want, but I don't regret it.

…No. I don't think I would either.

Eiwyn didn't know. She didn't know that she could end the enchantment, that there was a way to set everything right. So much had been kept from her in order to protect her, and it had been done out of love. Had he not done the same, sometimes for even far less noble reasons? He had no right to fault Rhoshad for his actions, because they weren't any different than his own, and to do so would make him nothing more than a hypocrite. There was enough hypocrisy in his life already, and he had no desire to create any more.

He knew what it was like to regret the outcome of a choice without regretting the choice itself. No matter the heartache, he would always choose to protect the people he loved, to protect Arthur, even if it meant leaving a trail of destruction in his wake—broken promises, shattered trust, friendships, betrayal, lies… He could withstand it all as long as Arthur lived to become the king he was meant to be, as long as his friends remained safe and protected.

He would do anything and everything in his power to keep them all safe.

Merlin?

No matter what the cost, he would save them. He would save as many people as he could, because what purpose was there in having power if he couldn't use it for the right reasons? His friends needed him. Rhoshad, Eiwyn, and the people of Haulden all needed him, and he wasn't about to let any of them down. The enchantment would be lifted, and all of them would be set free.

I've got the staff. I'm heading back to the tower. I'll be there soon.

He had once heard a long time ago that waiting was an act of trust. He doesn't remember where or when he had been told that or even by whom, but he does remember the fact that he hadn't really believed it or spared much thought for the meaning behind that statement. He could also recall being told that waiting is a battle in itself, that the people left behind sometimes suffer more or fight harder than the ones they're waiting for. Needless to say he hadn't really believed that one either.

However, as he stood there with his fellow knights and watched them as they paced back and forth with their eyes continuously wandering towards the door, Elyan was forced to admit that perhaps there was some truth to those statements after all.

After speaking to Rhoshad, all four of them had resolved themselves to waiting once again. As much as they all wished they could head out there and find Merlin, they knew that it wouldn't do any good to try. Eiwyn would find them, and there was no way she'd allow them to get away again. Looking for Merlin would only get them all killed. They were all aware of that, but it still didn't seem to change the fact that they couldn't bring themselves to just sit around and do nothing. Knights weren't meant to stand around and wait while someone important to them was off risking their life. It should have been the other way around.

Still, no matter how badly they wanted to, they couldn't leave, and it wasn't just because Rhoshad wouldn't let them. If they truly believed in Merlin, trusted him, then they had to wait. They needed to stay there and believe that he would come back. It was hard though, because they had no idea what was happening out there and no way of finding out. It left them all feeling anxious and worried, helpless, knowing the danger but being unable to do anything about it. There truly was no condition more painful than that.

Nonetheless they endured it, because as difficult as it was to do nothing, it was equally as important in order to prove that they trusted their friend. Merlin would return. He had promised them that he would, and they wouldn't accept anything less than that.

Between the sound of Arthur pacing, Gwaine rocking his chair back and forth—he was going to tip over if he wasn't careful—and Lancelot tapping his foot, they almost didn't hear the wooden door creak as it began to open. All four of them froze, their attention fixed on the entrance in anticipation as the door that hadn't moved for any of them was pushed open easily.

There honestly weren't words to describe the sheer relief that washed over them all when they saw the very tired but very much alive servant standing in the doorway, a weary smile on his face and a staff clutched in his hands.

He had done it. Against all odds, he had actually done it.

"Merlin!" Gwaine called with a smile as he got up from his chair and made his way over, barely giving Merlin enough time to close the door before pulling him into a hug. The warlock couldn't help but wince a little—he was a bit sore, after all—but he broke into a smile soon after. "Welcome back!"

"Thanks," he said as Gwaine released him, still grinning. By now Arthur, Lancelot, and Elyan had all made their way over as well, crowding around him, looking both relieved and—dare he even think it—proud.

Elyan clapped him on the back with a gleeful and heartfelt, "You did it, Merlin!" The warlock only smiled more, feeling warm with even just that little bit of praise. He wasn't used to it, and it's not like it was necessary, but it certainly felt good to be acknowledged for a change.

Merlin turned to Lancelot for a moment, the knight offering him a nod and a grin, and he knew without needing to be told that his friend was proud of him and was happy to see that he was getting some of the appreciation he deserved. Lancelot had never been very happy about how little thanks the warlock got despite all his efforts and all he did for Camelot even though Merlin always assured him that it was fine, that he didn't mind (he was certain that Lancelot knew he was lying about that even if only a little, but the man never called him on it). The knight seemed more than satisfied with this development, and Merlin couldn't help but admit that he was as well. Perhaps telling them where he was going instead of sneaking off really had been the better choice.

Despite all the praise and the grins he was receiving from his friends, it all seemed to pale in comparison to the look he found on Arthur's face. He was pretty sure that he could count the number of times that he had seen that look on just one hand, and probably only half of those times had it been directed at him. There was relief there as well as joy even though he seemed to be trying to dampen it (that was Arthur, always trying to keep up the pretense of the proud, arrogant prince to some extent regardless of how he was actually feeling). He also looked a bit unsure, as if he didn't quite know what to do now, and Merlin wished that he would just let himself do what he wanted to instead of always worrying about how it would look to others. Why not just hug him like Gwaine had?

That thought was enough to have the warlock grinning from ear to ear despite knowing that it wasn't likely to happen. However, what did happen was just as good and equally as unexpected. Arthur gave him a real smile, unguarded and full of pride as he clapped a hand on Merlin's shoulder.

"Well done, Merlin," he said with complete sincerity, squeezing his shoulder just a bit as a sign of both relief and affection. "I'm glad you're alright."

"Thanks." He wasn't sure what else to say, because nothing seemed adequate enough, but something told him that it wasn't necessary, that what he wanted to convey was already known.

Arthur pulled his hand away but that look remained for a moment more, and Merlin had every intention of burning it into his memory, of holding onto it for as long as he lived as proof that the prince really did care and did appreciate him no matter how ungrateful or angry he sometimes was. It would help to remind him of exactly what it was he always fought for—not Arthur Pendragon, prince and future king of Camelot, but Arthur, his best friend. He could use destiny as a reason and an excuse for his actions, but it was because he genuinely believed in the kind of person that Arthur was that he stayed by his side, and nothing would ever change that.

It would always be the people he loved that spurred his actions.

Being the only one who hadn't approached him yet, Lancelot walked up to the warlock and without hesitation, pulled him into a brief hug much like Gwaine had.

"We knew you could do it, Merlin," he told him, and even though Merlin had his doubts about that, he wasn't about to say anything. There was no need. The fact that they had trusted him enough to let him leave in the first place was more then enough for him.

"So," began Gwaine after Lancelot had pulled away and they had all lapsed into a bout of content silence, "now all we have to do is take that staff to the other tower, right?"

"That's right."

"Then what are we waiting for? Let's go." The rest of the knights seemed to be of a similar mind as they began to approach the door, ready to finally put an end to their quest, but Merlin was quick to stop them. He couldn't let them go out there, not yet. There was something he needed to do first, something he needed them to do.

"Wait," he called, halting them just as Gwaine was reaching for the door. They all turned to look at him, confused.

"What is it?" Arthur asked, waiting for an explanation, but when one wasn't forthcoming, his brow furrowed in slight concern. "Merlin?"

Ever since he had set out to claim the staff, Merlin had known what he would have to do—what all of them would have to do, but that didn't make it any easier. It's not that he doubted the knights' capabilities or his own in this matter, but there was just so much that could go wrong, and he had no way of knowing if his plan would really work or not. He would be taking a huge chance with this, but he still had to try, because if they simply chose to do nothing, then all of them would die anyway.

The only problem would be getting his friends to do what he asked, to trust him just one more time.

With a deep breath and a lot of courage, he walked up to Arthur and held the staff out to him. Needless to say the prince was startled, his wide eyes flicking uncertainly between his servant and the staff being presented to him.

"Merlin…?"

"Take it." When Arthur only continued to stare at it in apprehension, Merlin held it out a bit more firmly, urging him to take it. "It's alright. It won't hurt you. It no longer matters who holds it."

With apprehension and trust warring in his gaze, the prince hesitantly reached out and took the staff from Merlin. It was obvious that all of them were curious now about why he was handing it over, but he didn't bother giving them a reason. Instead he merely told them what needed to be done.

"Bring it to the tower and end the enchantment. Just make sure you don't let go of the staff. As long as you're holding it, Eiwyn won't be able to find you, but you need to be careful. Those creatures from before are still out there."

The four of them were silent for a moment, just staring at him as if they couldn't quite understand what he had just said. It was Elyan who finally broke it, his words soft and questioning.

"You're not…coming with us?"

Merlin shook his head, and he knew that if he didn't give them some kind of reason that they'd only grow suspicious. It would only be natural. After all, he was hiding something, but he couldn't afford for them to find out what. If they did, he knew what would happen.

"No. There's something I have to do, something that Rhoshad told me about, but I need to talk to him first. It's important."

He was expecting them to disagree, to challenge him or ask what it was he needed to do, because he knew his explanation was shoddy at best. He hadn't really told them anything, but that was only because he knew for a fact that this time they really wouldn't let him go alone if they knew the truth, and he needed to. He wanted the four of them to stay together, because they stood a better chance of making it to the tower that way. It would be impossible for them not to be noticed—Eiwyn had to know that the staff was gone, so there were likely far more of those creatures wandering around, which meant that sending out just one of them wouldn't do any good. Even if they couldn't kill those beasts, they could still delay them a bit and defend themselves. It was their best chance.

He needed them to go and lift the enchantment, and he needed to make sure that they succeeded.

Strangely enough, none of them said anything at first. Unlike when he had come to them before about going to get the staff, they were all remaining quiet. There was no protective anger, no shouting, no questions of any kind whatsoever, and when something finally was said, it was only one word and not the one he had been expecting.

"…Alright."

Merlin looked to Arthur, hardly believing what he had just heard. He was waiting for someone to say something else, to contradict the prince, but no one disagreed. Not even Gwaine was arguing, and the warlock couldn't help but smile a bit at the four knights in front of him. Even though they didn't know what it was he needed to do, what it was they were entrusting to him, they still chose to trust him, to have faith in him.

He was tempted to thank them, but he knew that that would only raise questions. Besides, there was no reason to. He was pretty sure his gratitude was obvious anyway.

"We'll come back," Lancelot assured him.

"I know. Just be careful."

With one final nod in acknowledgement, they pulled open the door, each one of them placing a hand on the staff before stepping into the vale. It wouldn't keep them safe for long, but any protection was better than nothing, and they needed whatever advantage they could get.

When the door closed behind them, Merlin didn't move. There was no point. He knew what was coming. After all, even though he hadn't acknowledged him yet, he was completely aware that Rhoshad was watching him. He had been ever since Merlin had entered the room, and the warlock knew why. It had been made perfectly clear over the last few days that he couldn't hide anything from him.

"…You lied to them."

He turned around to face the sorcerer, but he didn't need to see his face to know that he was disappointed as well as a bit worried. In all honesty, he had every right to be.

"I know," Merlin began, "but I had to. There's something I have to do."

"I know that…but you should at least heal yourself."

"…I really can't hide anything from you, can I." The warlock flashed him a sad smile before glancing down to his right side. It was impossible to see it now thanks to a few spells, but he knew that Rhoshad had no need to see it to know what was there.

He had been careless. Just before he had reached the staff, one of the creatures had found him. He hadn't been fast enough, and its claws had ripped into his side just above his hip at the same moment that he had touched the staff. There had been a blinding light, and when it had cleared, he had been lying alone on the platform with Rhoshad's staff held tightly to his chest and blood running down his side.

He was ashamed to admit that he had panicked a bit at the sight of it, but in the end he had managed to use his magic to slow the bleeding (which was a much more effective method than his hands or a makeshift bandage). He had also used a few spells to clean himself up and make it look like his tunic wasn't ripped and soaked in blood before he had made his way back to the tower (they were simple enough spells, ones that could easily come undone if someone were to notice, but they had worked well enough). Even now his side still ached, but there wasn't anything he could do about it. Nothing he had tried had worked.

He had never been very good at healing injuries, after all. Aside from when he had healed Morgana, he couldn't think of a single time where he had successfully been able to heal a wound.

"Merlin, you need to heal it."

"I already tried," he said with a shrug. "Afraid I'm not very good at it. I was able to slow the bleeding, but I can't close it." He looked up at Rhoshad, at the concern that was crystal clear on his face, and offered a reassuring grin. "I'll be alright."

The ghost didn't look convinced, but in the end he merely shook his head with a soft sigh and a wistful grin of his own.

"You truly are stubborn, aren't you…"

Rhoshad knew that there was no way he'd be able to convince Merlin to rest or to take the time to treat his wound properly, and with how little magic the spirit had at his disposal, there was no way he'd be able to heal it himself. He had never been very good at it to begin with. Besides, the warlock wasn't the type of person who would sit around when there was something he needed to do to save his friends. Even if he wanted to, there was no way Rhoshad would be able to keep him locked in the tower. The boy had a strong will. In some ways it was even more impressive than the overwhelming well of magic he had at his disposal, a power that flowed as naturally through him as blood and was as essential to his life as breathing. Even without that strength though, he was truly a strong person.

The warlock was about to start speaking, a question on the tip of his tongue, but Rhoshad quickly cut him off, knowing that they didn't have much time to do this. He already knew what he was going to say anyway.

"I know what you want to ask me," he began, "and I'm afraid there isn't an easy answer. There's no spell, no ritual—nothing with any sort of guarantee that what you're thinking will actually work, but…the magic here is about will and intent. My enchantment was possible because of a strong desire to protect. You have to approach it with an equally strong desire. Your magic is instinctual, so you should have no problem getting it to react to your will. I have every faith in you."

"Alright."

Rhoshad watched as the warlock turned around and made his way to the door, but before Merlin could grab the handle, he called out one last time. When he knew he had the boy's attention, he said the only thing he could think of, something that he didn't need to say at all but that he wanted to nonetheless. Words weren't always necessary, but sometimes it was better just to say them anyway.

In case this was the last time they ever saw each other face to face, he didn't want to have any regrets.

"Thank you, Merlin. For everything you've done and for what you intend to do…thank you."

Merlin glanced back at him as he grabbed the handle on the door, his expression set in determination and resolution. There was no hesitation, no fear—his mind had been made up long ago, and despite being injured, exhausted, and weary in so many ways, in that moment he looked every inch the powerful, benevolent warlock he would one day become. He was destined to be the most powerful practitioner of magic that the world had ever known—of that there was no doubt—but something told him that it wouldn't just be his magic that he was admired for.

"I promise that I will do everything in my power to save Haulden. I will end this, no matter what."

As he opened the door and left the sanctuary for the last time, Rhoshad couldn't help but smile at the thought that had crossed his mind in that moment.

The world would remember Merlin for his magic, but it was his loyalty and compassion, his heart, that would make him truly worth revering.

"So…what now, princess?"

"Will you just shut up for one second and let me think?" Arthur hissed at the knight, trying his best to keep his voice down so that he wouldn't be overheard by the pack—yes, pack, as in more than one—of beasts roaming the corridor.

Needless to say things weren't going that well, not that he had really been expecting anything different. As if it wasn't hard enough to maneuver through the hallways as a group of four knights who couldn't move too far away from each other less one of them lose their grip on the staff; now they had those creatures to deal with as well.

"Does anyone have a plan?" Elyan whispered.

"We could try going another way," Lancelot suggested.

"Is there another way?"

"…I don't know."

Arthur was tempted to let his head fall back against the wall, but with his luck that would be the sound that would give them all away, and he really wasn't in the mood for that type of sick irony. He was starting to understand why Merlin had wanted to go alone earlier. It would be far easier to walk the corridors and evade the monsters as a single person instead of a group of five. He had made the right choice in asking them to stay behind, but he also got the feeling that there hadn't been quite this many creatures around when he had been trying to reach the staff. Their numbers were likely a result of it being taken. After all, there was no way that Eiwyn wouldn't have noticed.

"We can't just sit here like this," Gwaine said. "Merlin's counting on us to reach the tower. He risked his life to get this thing. I don't know about you, but I don't plan on doing anything less."

"We can't just run out there," Elyan told him. "We won't be able to fight them like this, with only one hand…or at all, really."

"If they see us, it won't matter if we're holding the staff or not, and even if we can't kill them, we could probably fend them off long enough to reach the tower."

"You don't know that. If we're not careful, we'll all end up getting killed."

"Well, it's a better plan than staying here."

Between all the quiet bickering and the growling noises coming from the beasts just beyond their hiding place, Arthur was having a hard time concentrating on a plan. It was true that they couldn't keep hiding, that sooner or later they were going to have to take a chance, but they had to time it. They couldn't just run out there and hope for the best. There was far too much riding on this. They couldn't afford to be that reckless.

"Will you all just be quiet for a moment?" he hissed. "I'm trying to think."

"Just don't hurt yourself, princess."

"Gwaine…"

"…Do any of you hear that?"

Arthur turned to look at Lancelot along with Elyan and Gwaine, all of them falling quiet for a moment as they listened, but he couldn't hear anything other than what he had already been hearing.

"Hear what?" he asked.

"That."

He was about to ask the knight to be a bit more specific when the sound of something scraping against stone echoed through the room they had ducked into. It was followed by a low growl, predatory and dangerous, and all four of them froze in place before slowly glancing behind them.

Apparently there had been another entrance to the room, and in the doorway stood one of the beasts, its teeth and claws bared as it crouched into an attacking position.

They had been discovered.

As the four of them quickly got to their feet, Arthur found himself being put in charge of the staff while his three knights all released their hold on it to draw their swords (the protection it offered no longer mattered. The creatures would be able to find them now anyway). When the beast suddenly came bounding towards them, they really had no other choice but to make a run for it. It seemed that Gwaine would get his way after all, whether he had truly wanted to or not.

However, no matter what happened, they weren't about to lose. They had someone waiting for them, and they couldn't let him down. Despite the risk he had taken, Merlin had returned to them safe and sound, and they owed it to him to do the same.

After everything the five of them had gone through together on this ridiculous, impossible journey, how could they possibly do anything less?

A/N: Well, I hope you enjoyed it :) We're going into the final stretch where the last few questions shall finally be answered. I can't wait! Hopefully I'll find the time to work on the chapter while I'm at the hotel this week.

Thank you to everyone who is reading this fic, and thanks to all who have favorited, alerted, and reviewed :) I'm very grateful. I know I've said it before, but it always makes my day to see all those email alerts and to hear what everyone thinks, so thank you!

Until next week!