After two grueling exams and a pop quiz, this author crashed and slept waaaay longer that expected. Enjoy another foray into the weirdness that is my brain!
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Avalon Forest was a constantly growing mass of tangled thorns and shadows.
Really, it was all Gwaine's fault. He was the one who went and got drunk at Morgana's college party - which they weren't supposed to be at, he might add. They were both sophomores in high school and well on their way to being a nationally ranked team, so long as Coach didn't catch them out. Bedevere was a stick in the mud and would bench them for the rest of the season if he knew Gwaine had dragged Arthur and Lancelot to what basically amounted to a rave in Morgana and her housemate's place.
Well, they were there and Morgause, his creepy not-sister from the woman his dad had an affair with, told them some ghost story about the Demons in the Woods. And of course Gwaine wanted to see if it was true, but Arthur refused to let the idiot go alone, so he stomped after him with a huff and told Lance to go home. Lance only laughed and clapped him on the shoulder.
"You forget, Arthur. I grew up in one of the Swallows. If you two venture into the Woods, you'll need a guide."
Right. He had forgotten.
Arthur was only four when Avalon Forrest, after centuries of silence, began creeping into the human lands once more, eating away at fields and roads. The towns that once served as a border were Swallowed, and most folks didn't trust the people that came from those places - said they were wrong, spoiled by the Woods like everything else in it.
Not Lance, though. He was the best mate a guy could ask for, and probably the best person Arthur'd ever meet. And he came from the Swallows.
"R-right. C'mon. We'd better catch up to Gwaine before he gets himself killed."
Avalon was thick with vegetation, a fog hanging over everything so that the ground was hard to make out. Trees reached up to scrape the sky. But that's not what made folks scared of the Woods. No, it was the strange, twinkling lights, the faint echoes of childish giggles, ever the occasional roar. And always, always, the eyes shining like gold coins in the darkness.
His father detested the Woods, though Morgana was oddly intrigued by them, which probably explained her major in botany. Arthur… well, he didn't really care for them one way or another. It's not like it was hurting anyone, just growing to envelop border towns.
"Gwaine! Don't touch that!" Lance shouted, startling Arthur from his thoughts.
Said teen was squatting down, reaching for a viciously red flower with a smattering of what looked like gold. He could see the allure.
"He's right, ya'know," a young voice chirped. A little boy, no older than ten, hopped down from where he had sat in a near-by tree, blue cape fluttering. Wide, innocent blue eyes looked at Gwaine in amusement. "Don't go touchin' the King's Rose unless you're the King. The King Gifted it to the Woods, and she's mighty picky 'bout who can touch it. You're pretty smart for a Reg, even a Reborn."
Lance gave the kid a fond(?) grin. "I had a good guide as a child. Merlin never steered me wrong."
"Oh!" His eyes lit up as he practically vibrated with excitement. "You've met Merlin? How wonderful! He so rarely leaves the Heart."
Arthur cleared his throat. "Sorry. But who are you, exactly?"
"I am Mordred, knight to the King," Mordred said with a flourish. "Always a pleasure to meet friends of Merlin."
This was Morgause's demon? He wanted to scoff.
"Well? Come along!" Mordred started skipping off, waving for them to follow. "I'm sure King Emrys would love to meet Merlin's friends too!"