I hope this divergence from the series is interesting. If you guys don't like it, I can always bring the story back more in line (and please let me know if anyone seems out of character or if I mess something up - I don't want you to lose interest). Thanks for reading! :) Happy New Year!
...
Merlin returned.
Arthur was not quite sure what Gwen had said, but he was in her debt.
Merlin scuffed his boot against the ground.
"Are you going to just stand there? An attack could happen at any moment," Arthur reminded him, "and I would rather not be burnt to a crisp by fae."
Merlin glared. "This is hard enough as it is. Do you have to be such a prat and a clotpole on top of it?"
Since Merlin radiated tense, Arthur kept silent.
"This place feels familiar." Merlin waved a hand around. "I don't know how - I didn't know how, but when I went on that walk, I ran into a farm near here."
Although half a dozen questions flew to Arthur's mind, he opted to not ask them. Yet.
"I remembered something."
He had Arthur's attention now. "What?"
As he stared down at the ground, Merlin fiddled with the edge of his neckerchief. "My...my mother. She used to be here, I think. But not anymore." He rubbed his forehead as though a headache were coming on.
What was Arthur supposed to do? Comfort Merlin? Ask him more about it?
He was as refined in the art of offering emotional support as his father. "That's…" He searched for the right word.
Gwen or Lancelot would have known what to say, but Arthur was hardly competent at offering emotional support.
Merlin must have sensed that Arthur was flailing around. "Anyway-" he began.
Suddenly, he stiffened.
Arthur's hand went to his sword. "What's wrong?" he hissed.
"I sense magic."
Arthur turned to wake the others, but Merlin put a hand on his arm to stop him. "Wait, don't. You can warn the others, but let me take care of it."
"All right," Arthur agreed. "If you know what you're getting into. But please don't...explode or burn anything." He had seen and heard of the wreckage that had come from fights with fae.
Merlin nodded before dashing off, moving along as though the moonlight were easing his movements and blending him into the sides of the houses.
To clear his thoughts, Arthur shook his head before moving to wake them up.
…
It was still quiet when Arthur knocked on Brennan's door.
Sleepily, the man opened it, drowsiness crusting his eyes and making him appear far less worn than when he was awake. "What's going on?"
"There's going to be an attack," Arthur informed him shortly. As the knights knocked on the doors of adjoining houses, other noises began springing up.
"Was there an alarm?"
Without answering, Arthur moved on. He did not have the time to spare to come up with an excuse to explain his knowledge, and the more quickly they prepared, the better. Merlin could have been struggling with the unknown fae, and Merlin against one was hardly a fight in their favor.
"Arthur!"
At the sound of Gwen's voice, Arthur turned around.
Gwen was running towards him, lifting her skirts with one hand and clutching a cloak around herself with the other.
"Are you cold?" was the first thing out of Arthur's mouth whenever she reached him. Mentally, he slapped himself. Of all the stupid, Merlin-like things to say-
"No. What's going on?"
"There's going to be an attack. I think."
Confusion filled her expression. "You think?"
Whenever they reconvened, Arthur was going to have a serious chat with Merlin about how they could better hide his heritage.
"Yes. I think. Someone heard something." Inwardly, Arthur winced at the poor excuse, but Gwen didn't bother questioning it.
"Where did Merlin go? I haven't seen him all evening after I spoke with him, and I thought he was with you, sire."
"You may call me Arthur." Metnally, Arthur slapped himself on the forehead. Really, of everything happening, that was what he was most concerned about?
Gwen blushed.
"I don't know where Merlin went."
It was the truth. For all he knew, Merlin could be on the back of the horse, riding for Camelot, at that moment.
"Maybe Elyan's seen him." Gwen moved past him.
"Wait." Arthur caught her by the arm. "You can't be out. It's too dangerous for you. Find somewhere safe."
"I'm capable of taking care of myself, Arthur."
No, she wasn't. Or maybe she was, but Arthur didn't want her to be. He wanted to make sure that Gwen was as far from whatever mess Merlin had found as possible.
"Please, Gwen," he said instead of making a fool of himself. "I know you can take care of yourself, but please find shelter somewhere."
Gwen pursed her lips like she was going to argue with him.
"Hello!"
Arthur stumbled forward and swore.
Gwen clutched her heart. "Oh, Merlin, you scared us!"
Arthur wasn't scared.
"Sorry about that." Merlin scratched the back of his neck. "So, Arthur-"
"What in the blue blazes are you doing?" Arthur hissed.
It was his understanding (and with Merlin, that was sometimes very shallow) that Merlin was off doing...whatever it was that fae did with whoever the other fae was. Not frolicking about in the dark while Arthur woke everyone up.
"If you had me raise the whole blasted town-"
"Language, Arthur. There's a lady present."
Gwen laughed and then cleared her throat. "Sorry."
"It was nice seeing you, Gwen." Abandoning her, Arthur grabbed Merlin by the shoulder and dragged him into the nearest alleyway. As soon as they were in its shadows, he growled, "What in fae is going on?"
"'It was nice seeing you, Gwen'?" Merlin parroted. "Come on, Arthur, you can do better than that."
The more Merlin spoke, the more Arthur felt like knocking him out, dealing with whatever threat was facing the village, and picking him up on their return to Camelot.
"Focus, Merlin," he snapped.
"All right. So." Merlin rubbed his hands together. "I feel magic growing in the air."
"And?" Arthur looked around, but the air didn't appear any different.
Merlin rolled his eyes. "You can't see it. Moving on - I want everyone to be prepared."
Arthur waited, but Merlin didn't finish his instructions. "And?" he prompted.
Confused, Merlin frowned. "Is everyone already prepared?"
One blow. One blow, and all of his problems would be-
If being prince had taught Arthur anything, it was that he would be forced to deal with difficult people. "They are preparing as we speak, Merlin. I am inquiring as to your plan of action, you imbecile."
"I'm going to confront the other fae," Merlin said, "and then, whenever he-"
This.
This was it.
This was the perfect example of why Arthur was never going to trust Merlin with anything ever again.
"Right." Arthur turned. "Find Leon and Percival and the others."
"What? What for? You didn't even let me finish telling you about it!"
"I don't need to."
As he took a step to find the knights. Arthur's mind raced as he scrambled to come up with a plan. Perhaps if they all stood their ground together-
"Stop it," Merlin said. "I can hear you thinking, and whatever you're coming up with isn't going to work."
Halting, Arthur wheezed. "You can hear me thinking?"
Fie, had Merlin actually heard everything he'd ever thought about Gwen? About Merlin's "personality"? About-
"No. Just stop." Merlin's voice was tired, frustrated. Laced with a slight trace with anger as though it were pushing to escape but Merlin was powerful enough to quell it.
"Why?" Arthur demanded, turning to him. "You've acted sick for days, worried like a squirrel in a bear's den, you disappeared without telling anyone where you were going or when you would be back, and now you're putting the lives of not only this entire village but also my men on the line because you are too idiodic to come up with a decent plan and too prideful to admit it."
The corner of Merlin's mouth twitched as though he found some aspect of Arthur's short speech amusing. A flash of rage at the fae blinded Arthur for a second.
Merlin said nothing.
In the darkness of the street, Arthur clenched his fists and breathed in and out. If he were going to face a fae, he needed to be in control.
"Are you calm?" Merlin asked.
"Yes."
Wisely, Merlin did not point out that Arthur was clenching his jaw. "The reason I am not telling you any 'plan' is because it boils down to this. I am going to go fight whoever is waiting, and you are going to sit and wait in case that does work.
"But-" Arthur began.
"No," Merlin stopped him. "This is magic. You cannot work here. You are as foreign to Ealdor as the stars in the middle of the sunlit sky. You are a dove in a fir tree."
A dove? What in fae?
"Magic isn't-"
"Trust me, Arthur. You are going to have to. I would prefer to not knock you out because there's only so much head trauma you can take and your resources are limited enough already. Please, Arthur."
For the love of fae, Arthur could not understand Merlin sometimes.
Merlin's facial expression turned snarky. "If not for me, do it for Gwen. You can't protect her unconscious."
"Excuse me?" Arthur demanded.
Although Arthur didn't know how, Merlin deemed Arthur's words as acceptance. "Good. I'll deal with the magic user," he said. "Just be ready with everyone. You won't have to fight."
Before Arthur could put up any more protest, Merlin disappeared into the shadows of the street.
…
Merlin was wrong.
Even though it was hardly the time to be smug, Arthur took pleasure in the fact.
Merlin was wrong, he thought gleefully as he blocked the swordstroke of another barbarian just in time to turn around and deliver a powerful punch to the jaw of another.
When Merlin returned, Arthur was going to tell him about each and every action he took.
"Duck, sire!"
Instantly, Arthur squatted down, and an arrow whizzed over his head.
Or Arthur assumed it was an arrow. He was too busy rising to meet his next opponent to care to confirm his guess.
Kenan and his bandits were stupid.
More slow-witted than Merlin, in fact. As he faced off each new opponent, Arthur was incredulous that the villages of Essetir were struggling against such talentless buffoons.
In the midst of the skirmish, Gwaine sidled up to Arthur, twirling his sword around in fancy showboating arcs. "Did you say Merlin was taking care of it?" he asked.
"Yes."
"When? Haven't seen any trace of anything."
That was the one snag in the perfect fabric of it all. Despite Merlin's investigation of the village and new disappearance, no magic had erupted into the air, and no one had caught a whiff of the wind of the fae.
"I know." Arthur couldn't give Gwaine anything else, so the knight drifted away to deal with one of the stragglers of Kanan's men.
It was the sort of quick operation that both Uther and Arthur liked. Arthur would root out the leader and haul him back to Camelot's prison, and the people of Essetir could return to sleeping soundly at night.
It would have been a nicely wrapped present for everyone involved.
Except for the random factor of fae.
Arthur's once-banished headache was returning full force.
Brennan was approaching him, and in expectation of whatever thanks or information he would receive, Arthur straightened his posture and slid his sword back into his sheath. "What-"
On the edges of the night-blacked horizon, fire exploded.
As Brennan ducked, relief flooded Arthur. Merlin.
It must have been created by magic, for even from a distance, he could feel the heat of its flames and see them reflecting off Brennan's wrinkled skin.
Wait a second.
If the fire was caused by magic, the other fae, not Merlin, could have been responsible for it. And Merlin could have been in the middle of it.
At that very moment, Merlin could be burning to a crisp.
Ignoring the puzzled exclamations around him, Arthur took off.
…
The world was a swirling mass of smoke and smog around Merlin, and he coughed through the quagmire. In Camelot, he thought the amount of particles in the air was tolerable, and the forest contained the cleanest air he had ever breathed.
This, however, was ridiculous.
Sputtering, he tried to expel the smoke from his lungs, but it was worse than the clouds mushrooms sent up in the spring.
Racing through lesser-used vocabulary in his mind, Merlin found the perfect words (he loved perfect words - all fae did - round and smooth) and choked them out.
The smoke abated but did not disappear completely.
Hmm. Perhaps the words were not as perfect as he had thought them. After being asleep for so long, Merlin found that the rest of the world had shifted slightly.
It was annoying.
Almost as annoying as Arthur, but the prince still took the pot.
He was getting distracted by his own thoughts and the smoke. Focusing on magic, he tugged at it.
In a flash, the smoke disappeared.
That left the fire that was licking high towards the sky and fanning itself to an inferno.
"I see you."
Merlin stiffened and scanned the flames, looking for a trace of another fae. Normally, he would have been able to sense the presence of another fae, but the magic in the fire was truly deflecting.
"I would be most delighted if you extended me the same courtesy," Merlin replied sarcastically, turning around.
Oh, the grass was getting burnt. All of the poor grasshoppers and fireflies and-
"You aren't looking."
Really, Merlin thought that other fae were ridiculous. Invisibility. Eerie, disconnected voices. No wonder Uther thought magic users were slightly deranged sometimes.
Merlin shook his head. "Listen, I'm getting a little tired of all of you fae showing up and having a little talk with me before you go away."
"You speak as though you are not one of us even though the same blood runs through your veins...Merlin."
Merlin let himself smile a little at this. It had been so long since another fae had called him by his name that it was a little weird, but he wasn't going to let himself be thrown off the trial by that. "Listen, are you here for Arthur? Because you can't have him."
Might as well make everything clear before they got down to brass tacks.
A tuft of smoke billowed up, and a dark figure emerged from the grey haze.
Although Merlin's first instinct was to send a blast of magic towards the unknown fae, he let his hands hang limply by his side.
"Hullo," he said instead.
The other fae smiled thinly, out of politeness. It was as fake was Lady Mosley's wig back in the court of Camelot. "I am not here for gold or rings or goblets," she stated. "They are of little to use for me as adornments."
Merlin's eyebrows hiked up. This was a surprise. "What are you looking for, then?" he asked. "Swords and shields?"
The fae took another step towards him, causing his fingers to twitch and his magic to rear up. With every step, her long, slightly curled blonde hair bounced lightly around her face, but there was nothing girlish about her sharp face or her smooth tresses.
He squashed his magic down.
When she smiled, her blood-red lips curled evilly. "Oh, I'm looking for what I've already found."
Merlin took one step back. "Excuse me?" Merlin was used to speaking in metaphors, but he wasn't quite sure what the other fae was implying and wanted to ensure he fully comprehended her intentions before he did something that he would regret.
Disappointed, she pouted. "Really?"
Merlin took another step back and mentally scrambled for the words to rectify the situation before it careened out of control. "I do apologize for my lack of insight, but everything is hazy with smoke at the moment."
She accepted it. "I'm looking for what I've already found," she repeated.
"Are you satisfied?" Merlin asked.
He knew the answer would be no but put it forth to push her in the direction of explaining herself. He wanted to be especially careful around her.
"No." The fae glided forward, causing Merlin to backpedal even more until he felt the flames raging hot at his back. Pausing, her predatorial smile deepened. "Do you know where we are?"
At the abrupt line of questioning, Merlin blinked. "Of course." It was unnatural for fae to lose themselves when the world was so distinct, so sharp, so different at every corner and turn.
"Tell me," she demanded, her magic flaring around her.
"Essetir. Ealdor?"
"And what is special about Ealdor in Essetir, Merlin?"
He did not like the way she said his name. He would have preferred the trees calling him Emrys over her tone. Well, if she was going to be blunt, it would only be polite for him to return the favor. "That's none of your business."
The fae gasped.
Merlin smirked. Served her right. If she was going to be as condescending as Arthur, he was going to be as rude as he liked.
"You tiny-" she began before catching herself.
Merlin tugged at the fire a little with his magic, and it lessened slightly. The other fae was so caught up in his slight against her that she failed to notice for the moment.
"You," she spat, "you, Merlin, are from the ground. This earth. These spots."
Although Merlin wanted to argue that these spots were hardly the appropriate words, he felt a flash of anger that this nameless fae knew why Ealdor meant something to him.
How?
He remembered a few things. The land had pulled him to an abandoned cottage on an empty farm overgrown with wild shrubs and thorns. If he closed his eyes, he could feel the loving touch of a mother's land, the laughter in her eyes, and her practicality.
It stung, seeing so much but still being able to reconstruct so little about his own mother.
"And what's that to you?" He raised his head high and stared her down. As best as he could.
From her reaction, it did not intimidate her. She was standing two feet away from him now, and he could see the slight flare of her nostrils with every intake of breath.
There were too many unknown factors. Why she was there, how much she knew about him, why she felt the need to burn the land to a crisp to talk to him, whether or not she would turn after Arthur.
In a flash, she lashed out.
Merlin threw up a flash of magic to block her attack, but it wasn't also magic.
Her cold fingers latched around his arm.
Instinctively, he jerked back, but he hadn't been expecting the move. Before he could blink or push her back, she snapped her second arm across in front of her body.
Merlin's palm burned and stung.
Shocked, he stared at it as a thin trail of red blood seeped out of the slash on his palm.
The knife now resting at the fae's side (carefully held suspended because of its metal) glistened with his blood.
Instinctively, he squeezed his hand shut to stop the flow, but it caused a flat glob of his blood to trickle along his skin and fall onto the black and ashen ground.
The stench of it hit his nose, and he stumbled backwards, fighting the urge to vomit.
He hated blood.
Fascinated, the fae watched his reaction.
"What-" He gagged, straightening up. "What was that for?"
The small drop of blood was quickly overwhelming the scent of smoke.
This was why he detested hunting.
"Look, please."
Merlin felt like...doing something very non-half-pacifist to her, but his curiosity won. He looked at the ground.
His blood shimmered slightly - any human would have missed the slight change in color, but Merlin loved colors and everything about them - before it seeped into the cracks of the dried-out ground.
Merlin turned his gaze back on her.
Pleased with herself, the fae smiled as more of his blood dropped from his hand and the knife to the ground. "I knew it."
"Please enlighten me," Merlin snapped.
"You are Merlin."
Despite the wound in his hand and his confusion, Merlin laughed. "Really? I had no idea! I'm so glad we've cleared that up. I'll let Arthur know that he can drop the idiot and buffoon nonsense now that we've discovered my name."
As she stooped down, the fae snarled. "Is the Court a game to you?" she asked as she scooped up a bit of earth soaked through with Merlin's blood.
His nose twitched. He didn't want her touching her blood. It meant a bit more to fae than it did to humans, and she thought he was the rude one.
Before him, she made a fist and uttered a few words, causing the dirt to harden into a single precious stone streaked with gold and the barest touch of silver.
"This is proof," she said. "This is the scratch in the door, the call of the bird, and the track of the doe."
She dropped her voice to a whisper. "The king has his eye on the sparrow, and when he hears it, he is...most interested."
"Why?" Merlin asked.
It was the fae's turn to laugh. "Oh, Merlin," was all she cackled before the flames burst up higher than before.
When Merlin cleared the smoke again, she was gone.
She hadn't even given him her name.
Rude.
…
"Merlin!" Arthur yelled, instantly choking on smoke as it took the opportunity to seep into his mouth.
The countryside was on fire, but it was the remnants of a blaze instead of the beginnings. That, however, did not make it any easier to locate the idiot in question.
"Merlin!" he tried again, pulling up the front of his shirt to block his nose and mouth. With his other, he batted at the rest of the smoke swirling around his head.
For not the first (or the last) time, he cursed fae and their blasted magic.
Couldn't they use it for more constructive purposes besides burning down the entire area?
"Arthur!"
Through the haze, he spotted movement - a waving arm.
A second later, the majority of the smoke disappeared, and Merlin (standing, as though he were lost) became visible.
Arthur picked his way through the charred remains of stumps and thistles to reach him. "What in fae-"
"Do you mind if I borrow the hem of your shirt?" Merlin interrupted, crossing one arm and holding the other as far away from his body as possible.
"Of course I do," Arthur snapped. "What happened? Where is the other fae? Why aren't you dead?"
"I'm glad to see you, too," Merlin drawled before he sniffed in the direction of his hand and puked on Arthur's boots.
"Hey!" Too late, Arthur jumped back. The white and green liquid spattered on his boots, making Arthur consider throwing up, too.
"Sorry." Merlin wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
"What happened?"
If Merlin refused to give him a straight answer this time, Arthur was going to lose it.
"I met the fae. She's gone now. I don't think she'll be back." Merlin frowned. "I never did speak with her about what she did to your father."
"My father?"
"Yes," Merlin confirmed. "Your father. Congratulations, we walked into a plot. Your hem?"
"No." If he ripped it, it would take Merlin two weeks to fix the hem, and it was one of his most comfortable shirtss for patrolling. "My father?"
"Enchanted. Definitely." Merlin's eyes were focused off in the distance as though he were thinking.
It was disturbing.
"Merlin, what in fae is going on?"
Merlin sighed. "I have no idea and every idea, Arthur. I feel like I've just walked into a mess."
"That's nothing new," Arthur quipped grimly, "but you have an unusual knack for getting out of them." At least, he hoped Merlin would be able to get out of whatever this one was.
Fae and their blasted magic.
Finally realizing that Arthur wasn't going to sacrifice his shirt, Merlin dropped his hand, scowling. "Fine. I'll tell you on the way back to the village and after I fix some of this burntness."
"Are you sure the fae left?" It would be in their best interest to not be ambushed before they returned to Camelot.
"Positive. She needed to be somewhere else."
Arthur couldn't imagine where and what that was, but the answer would have to work for the moment. "Good. I'm all ears, then."
Looking back over his shoulder, Merlin shot him a scathing look.